#i love a half happy concept and ending

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

It's been some weeks but here I am now to respond to your response lol. So first of all, I'm definitely leaning towards nocorro but tbh I have like a few versions of this au in my head, all of which lead Spider down different paths depending on his love interest (or lack thereof) because I feel like each one would bring out something different in his ikran ambitions:

Spider/Neteyam - he fulfills his dream of becoming a racer.

Spider/Lo'ak - he eventually travels all over Pandora to learn everything he can about ikrans, becoming an expert in caring for, training, and riding them.

Spider/Kiri - he becomes an amazing ikran caretaker, focusing his energy on the health and well-being of them.

Spider/Rotxo - he realizes that the na'vi avoid riding the forest ikrans (which I imagine are what would dominate the forests of the Metkayina's islands) because of their size but he is just the right size. This leads to him being the first to utilize the smaller island ikrans with an interesting twist.

Spider/Ao'nung - he actually creates ilu racing in this one lol, it's all part of this storyline in my head where he manages to use his knowledge of both ikran training and human animal training methods to adapt to an ilu style and bond/train an ilu into helping him escape Quaritch. I'll tell you more info in another ask if you want it's a whole thing.

Spider/Tsireya - he paves the way for a new ikran sport: a mash between equestrian trick riding/vaulting, with quite a bit of acrobatics included.

Spider & the Sullies - he becomes their personal trainer, bonding with each individual family member and their ikrans and helping them to make their own marks on the ikran rider community all while helping to heal the distance within the family (among Jake and the boys specifically). I like to think that in this one he bonds with a forest ikran and carves out a place in ikran racing all his own.

And these are all very much active in my mind. I've always loved the idea that just one choice, one source of influence, could change your fate. I like the idea that there's a universe where Spider and Neteyam fall in love and become an ikran racing power couple and I like the idea that there's another universe where Kiri beat Neteyam to the punch and instead Spider focuses on all he can do to care for these amazing creatures, etc.. You can see what parts of him each path brings out.

On another note, some of your hc's will definitely be making an appearance because there were a few that I loved and thought fit so perfectly with what I pictured. I look forward to you seeing which ones stuck with me lol. And I love that others have their own interpretations that they want to write about! It'd be so fun to see what others come up with! Fun fact: I never intended for Spider to become a racer himself, I was vibing with the concept of him being this amazing ikran whisperer who brings a different perspective to the bond between person and animal, but because of the reaction that you and others have had I've added that into my thoughts!

Anyways, I know I work slowly but trust and believe I can't wait to get the next installment out so hang in there! Oh, and I can't believe I forgot to send you a link to my newest fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48596428

You totally don't have to read it, I'm still not even 100% sure if I like it myself, but idk I've sent you a link before so it'd just feel rude if I didn't now that I've started to? Does that make sense? Another update is that I will in fact be adding on to Follow Me Down to the Peach Tree, which I figured is something you might look forward to :)

~ CherryApollo

Hello icon CherryApollo. I'm so sorry this ask has taken me SO long to respond to, I wanted to read back on our old chats to refresh my memory but just like the nocorro accidentally mated post that an anon asked me to find the other day, I cannot find the posts even though I know it's tagged properly. I don't know if maybe it doesn't show up unless the tag is in the first few tags of the post? Someone send help.

BUT ANYWAYS, we will have to just focus on this. I agree that every Spider love interest just brings out a different side of Spider, which would result in different Spider ikran racing ambitions all around. I find it interesting that he travels in the locorro one, because I've always associated it with Kiri and Spiri. The yearning to explore more of Eywa's creations and to connect with her in different ways, and to meet more Na'vi and to see where and how they live. It's so Kiri to me, just wanting to be more a part of Pandora and see more of Pandora. I don't hate it for Lo'ak though, he's so restless and he is such a fast and adaptive learner when he's invested.

I am OBSESSED with the idea of Spider and a forest ikran, and I'm shocked no one has done it yet. They are! Spider sized!!! It's so perfect! He can fit into smaller spaces and make tighter and faster maneuvers and turns, and I bet him and Neytiri could spend hours seeing how traditional ikran racing could translate to this slightly different creature and style.

OBVIOUSLY I want more info on Spider escaping Quaritch via ilu bonding?? That's amazing, it shakes up the whole story! Would he find Awa'atlu right away or would he end up at a different village first? I have been drawn lately to the Spider escaping and finding the Sully's fic's I've seen around, although I've never seen one get past a few chapters. It's such an interesting concept!

I absolutely adore always when people are inspired by my thoughts, and I think it will be so so fun to see what sticks and what you liked and what you change!!! Please don't worry about working slow, I've been answering slow lately.

AND I SAW YOUR NEWEST FIC, I am so behind on my fic reading but I checked yours out before I posted this. I commented :) and please, it's not rude at all to send me a fic, sometimes I miss them in the shuffle so I appreciate it!

I ALSO HAVE BEEN SO OBSESSED WITH THAT FIC, I'M SO EXCITED THEY'LL BE AN UPDATE. I'll tell you, I have been so stuck on the idea of writing something original in its world. Loosely in its world, I guess, but just a soulmate world where if your soulmate is dead you can see their ghost, but also all the ghosts can all see each other as well. I've been stuck on this idea of a person whose soulmate is a ghost and as a result they're kind of an unattached loner. They are a private investigator who uses their ghost soulmate talking to other ghosts to help solve crimes. I'm thinking that they'll end up with another person whose soulmate is dead that they meet, a sort of vibe where they aren't the others supposed person but maybe things worked out the way it was supposed to in a fucked up way. It's just a weird concept I haven't been able to get rid of that I figured I'd let you know you inspired, lol.

[tigirl-and-co]

How Finite is Love?

This is a short little piece set in @shirecorn‘s super cool mlp AU! This is just a first pass at it, I’ll definitely refine it if I post it to a fic site. I just HAD to get this out though, the au hits all my sweet spots!

Shining Armor considers the ponies he loves, and how a mortal pony can love goddesses.

Shining Armor held no resentment towards his two favourite mares. It wasn't their fault. They had no choice. Shining wasn't certain he believed in destiny, but whatever happened to his wife and baby sister sure was close.

First it was his wife, and that he could handle. She was an adult. They had fallen in love in highschool, they had grown together, Shining knew how strong Cadance was. If anypony deserved ascension, it was her.

If anypony could weather this, it was them.

He loved his wife with every bone in his body, every fiber of his being, every ounce of magic he could channel. And he knew she felt the same. If she didn't... this never would have happened.

Can love be a curse? Can loving somepony too much damn your soul? Can it save it?

About a month after Cadance gained her horn, Shining Armor decided dwelling on these questions wasn't helpful, and the answers didn't matter. He loved Cadance, and Cadance loved him. He couldn't change the past, wasn't sure if he even would -- but he was dead set on building a happy future.

At least as happy as he could give her. He couldn't guarantee that the love his mortal body held would last into her infinity, but he was determined to try.

He hoped it wouldn't destroy her to leave him behind, when the time came.

He loved her too much for that.

===

He had celebrated when The Sun took notice of Twilight.

The young stallion was oblivious to the looks of quiet worry on his parents' faces, the body language that said they were resigned to a cautious optimism. How could the attention of the source of Equestrian life bring anything but fortune?

He wasn't yet old enough to have heard the whispers. The old fables weren't circulated in school for fear of divine retribution, and Shining Armor was not as studious as his sibling.

Now?

Had he the power, he would have torn The Sun from the sky.

His baby sister, the sweetest and most sensitive mare he had ever known, damned to an eternity of watching her friends die.

She was a child (she was older than Cadance had been) she needed protection (she had brought down false gods) she wasn't ready (The Sun had learned from its mistakes, this new goddess was more than prepared).

She needed him.

Didn't she?

(She did, once.)

He was proud of her, of course. And if he had been watching for the signs, he wouldn't have been surprised.

Twilight Sparkle had always had an innate love for those around her. Before she had locked herself away in that tower amongst the tomes, she had been a kind filly. And even then, she had never quite managed to harden her heart.

She was still openly affectionate with him, with Cadance, with Twilight Velvet and Night Light. She shared her knowledge with them because it was how she said 'I love you.'

Leave it to a goddess to exploit that trait.

When Shining managed to find time to talk with his Twily after she had earned her wings, she had said her job as goddess was 'to spread the knowledge of friendship' and to teach others what friendship truly meant. She sounded excited, happy. She had found a purpose for her research.

Shining Armor wasn't sure if his baby sister hadn't yet considered the consequences of eternal life, or if it simply didn't bother her. He didn't ask.

He realized that while she was still his Twily, and would be until the day he died, she was more. She was Ponyville's friend. She was Celestia's Twilight Sparkle.

She was Equestria's new goddess.

He renewed his vow to remain her BBBFF forever, to keep her safe from turmoil and danger.

He swallowed down his anger and despair that night, in favour of his inevitable role as protector. He had his cutie mark, and he knew what it meant.

===

Shining Armor loved the mares in his life, and he would go to the ends of Equestria to keep them safe and happy, whether they needed him or not.

He was glad, at least, that they would have each other.

[mossflower]

finished homestuck!! and adding it to my ever growing list of ‘media near-universally labelled as cringe that actually kinda slaps’

[volivolition]

Idk if you saw or not but a new chapter of the fury of a shattered mirror dropped last night! I haven’t read it yet but I thought I should let you know 😎👍

awughgh HELL YEAH!! ive been away from my laptop for a while so i didnt see, thank you birdy!! :] this is the best news ive had all day hkjgh <33 excited very excited going to read it now <33

[sysig]

Yandere Therapy (Patreon)

[kenobihater]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Cody is lost in thought when it happens.

The corpse draws a ragged breath.

Cody flinches before staring at Obi-Wan’s corpse. The corpse that had been motionless for several minutes is now breathing. Cody scrambles forward and feels for a pulse. His hands shake so hard that it’s difficult to make out, but it’s there - weak but steady. Cody freezes up entirely, not trusting his own senses.

Then the corpse's brow wrinkles and its eyes flutter open, meeting Cody’s through his visor.

“Cody?” Obi-Wan asks, and Cody stares. Obi-Wan is pale, but not as pale as he was, and his eyes are searching Cody’s own. Cody snaps out of his trance and goes back to pressing on the wound.

“I’m- I’m here Obi-Wan,” he says, stuttering over his words. Obi-Wan looks past him. He says nothing for close to a minute.

“I… Cody, I died. I became one with the Force, but it… it spit me out,” Obi-Wan says, finally meeting his gaze again. Cody grits his teeth.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters,” Cody tells him with a confidence that he doesn’t feel.

“But-”

“Just focus on staying alive this time, alright? I’m not losing you again,” he says. Obi-Wan lapses into silence once more.

[tiredassmage]

can we hear more about in dreams, hopes to die... 👉👈 those lines are so tasty..

CHOMPING AT THE BIT, AYE AYE CAPTAIN!!!!

Would you believe me if I reveal that this snippet is from the same piece? It's obviously an overall not very good time kind of piece, so I felt a tiny bit bad about it for once and decided to throw Tyr a bone. Valkorian and Tyr's own conga line of bad times couldn't be the only thing in five years worth of dreams, I figured, lol.

Also, that very scene is where the banger In the dark, it’s easier to hide and easier to tell the truth came from, lol.

Don't get too excited though because that's... very short. And also it's mentally set to Eyelids by PVRIS, so uh. It still punches me in the face.

Eventually I'll hopefully throw him another bone and give him and Theron's time on Rishi or Yavin IV a little pass because I'd like to think Theron's at least a little right and something came up. And stars know Tyr needs a fuckin' break, good gods almighty anlkfdnafldsf. Says she who continues to put that man in Situation after Situation after Situa-

And it was very hard to stop at just the first line for that initial post because the three lines that follow it are the meat and potatoes of what is currently the opening sequence of what I hope will eventually be a coherent fic. Or at least kinda coherent. It's still a very nebulous piece and I kinda like that, so I might not really do much more setup because it seems fitting that there wouldn't be a lot of setup and transition in something like the carbonite dreams era.

And, perhaps unsurprisingly given the nature of the setup of that chapter, but a lot of these scenes flirt with the concept of death. Tyr's dangerous dedication to "finishing the job" isn't anything new to those of us who have been here a while, lol, but this is a good character study piece if you're newer to my favorite blorbo, though it's an undeniably heavy one and obviously a bit fucky and nebulous by nature.

Also, fair warning, yes I'm giving you lines, but also I am going to give you a ramble and a half about Tyr lore because this is the piece I'm stuffing some juicy tick-tock workings into because I realized it was good for that and I love my boy so much, he's so fucked up. I love him though.

Anyway, I teased, so the next three lines of that scene, as foretold beneath the cut:

At first, it’s a firing squad. Mud cakes their boots and the rain pelts heavy on worn, drawn faces.

Tyr pushes to his feet unsteadily. A flash of lighting breaks overhead, glancing off of leveled blasters and hollowed eyes.

It will end as it should: without a soul remembering his name. He’d prefer it that way.

Okay, so... this is also not necessarily a piece I intended to write, but I realized there is... almost no better place to do a deep dive into some of the things that tick inside of Tyr that maybe aren't best portrayed in dialogue alone. This also wasn't meant to be in present tense, but it didn't feel right in past, so I ended up caving and that's... been a theme of the week, I guess, lol.

This is also like. I always chuckle a bit in that scene from Visions in the Dark later where Valkorian threatens you to meet his challenge and grow stronger or die alone and unremembered because wouldn't that just be ideal for a former Cipher. Wasn't that how the story was supposed to end? He didn't ask for your bullshit, grandpa.

There's currently two other scenes I have - they're all relatively short as I try to keep with that sort of drifting feeling. But the other one that might [Large Eyes Emoji] be of... relevant interest...

What’s been done has already been done. It doesn’t matter what it was. Maybe it won’t matter to anyone else.

Because it’s going to end here and now. Such were the decrees of the Sith - of the Empire.

Absolutes.

It matters to him that he tried. This is one of the kinder ways this could go - quietly, without the fanfare of blood on his teeth and a fire in his eyes.

“For what it’s worth, sir?” Nine exhales long and slow as he closes his eyes. “I’ve always admired you… You did your best.”

Finally.

No.

More.

Running.

“But I’m not going back.” The old man’s one of the few he could ever hope to ask this final favor. “Finish this - what we started.”

The Minister of Intelligence pulls the trigger.

It’s over before Tyr feels the ground beneath him.

Also topical given the "are others concerned about their sleep schedule" tag post reblogged earlier today, lol, and the idea of chronic nightmares. That Tyr and I haven't talked about. To each other. Or the world. Possibly not with the people he cares about, either. I'm sure Theron knows nebulously that he can have some troubled sleep - you don't share a bed with someone and not notice how consistently they have trouble falling or staying asleep.

But I think the fuckiest part of the whole Castellan Restraints period for Tyr is how he doesn't want to let the old man down. The Minister is more a father figure in Tyr's eyes than his own father, quite honestly [Tyr has a... kind of non-existant relationship with his entire family, unfortunately - and it's not because he went into Intelligence], and there's absolutely a part of that dynamic that is mentor and protégé.

And it's important to me that he sees this scenario with the Minister and not Shara - at least in Chapter Two, where it first haunts his nightmares with some consistency. Because I made a conscious choice in Shara knowing as Keeper about his Restraints - not because that ever comes up in-game, but because it adds something very crunchy to their already doomed narrative. And the background to that decision is that I decided it's... the kind of silent acknowledgement that the Minister can afford to give of their more intimate relationship. It's damage control, mitigation. With a heavy heart I imagine he tells her this in private, off the record, because Nine was her Cipher. And both of them still hold him in high regard.

Nine's given a possibly unusually loose leash to pursue the SIS investigation because of the Minister and Keeper's word; Watcher Three mentions this in broad strokes when he questions you about the blackout in records.

Anyway, the point to me mentioning this is actually that Tyr makes a very conscious effort to not think about this in the midst of the Restraints causing problems. He's reluctant enough to cede that he should hold the Minister responsible for this gross violation of his privacy and trust, but he's even more reluctant to give that the woman he loves has any knowledge or hand in the process - unwittingly or, especially, wittingly. Ultimately, he stubbornly doesn't hold them responsible. It hurts less to place the blame elsewhere. And he never loses the inescapable nostalgic kick to go home in the sense of the old paradigm - him and Keeper and the Minister.

He gave them everything.

And there's something in here about his regret at not being able to say all of this respect in better words or more directly. There's that acknowledgement that there's one person he trusts to understand why this was his breaking point. And, ultimately, there's the acceptance of the likelihood that none of this is going to end well, that he's living on borrowed time stolen from fate or destiny, or hell, maybe the Force. Tyr doesn't give a whole lot to whatever higher powers might be out there - relying on them hasn't ever saved him and he doesn't expect it to.

It makes it very interesting to watch him knowingly and willingly lie about the Black Codex after he lets Ardun walk with it and promises to double for the SIS. In a way, he's committing the greatest failure and throwing away everything the Minister has fought so hard with him to maintain and keep, especially when both of them have spoken of ideals instead of goals, etc. But it's necessary. It's what's best for Tyr, mentally, at that point. And even one of the figures he loves and respects the most can't override that desperate intrinsic need to fight for himself. The old man is, after all, one of the largest advocates of it throughout his career as Nine.

And, I suppose speaking of the nostalgia for Intelligence, my favorite set of lines from the final scene so far:

She’s sobbing against his shoulder. Dust and blood stain an almost unfamiliar uniform - he hasn’t worn uniform on Dromund Kaas in months, maybe years…

Everything’s been such a blur since Intelligence was disbanded…

so YEAH. I uh. I have a lot of feelings and this is where I'm sniffling and sobbing and word vomiting them into one doc but in story format, I suppose, lol.

Also completely unrelated to this particular fic but I am. Still thinking so intently about Eight x Tyr thoughts. They're now living rent free in my head and all of this.... absolute devotion stuff... hrhrhghghghghghghghrhhg. Brain vibrates because this is obviously all related to it because of the few people who could ever possibly understand any part of this series of events and feelings, it'd be another Cipher.

Tyr really does mourn Intelligence like... ghhghg. I'm unwell about it. He gave everything to it and its success. He doesn't regret it. The SIS investigation and the following fall of Imperial Intelligence were some of the worst fucking years of his life and it's destroyed him, really. He's living in and with the ruins like a bombed out city. It destroyed his everything and he'd almost gladly let it finish the job and destroy him to finally get his retribution. And he'd just as gladly let love destroy it all and rebuild it from the rubble when he has the right person beside him. Something something doesn't realize that he doesn't want or need to continue that destruction, he just needs fucking... idk validation or something. Acceptance. Acknowledgement. And then they can work on what "okay" looks like in the aftermath. He needs to be just as responsible for someone else's "okay" to even begin figuring out what the hell it looks like for him. hOUgh anyway.

I'm fucking normal about Cipher Nine, obviously. Thanks for comin' to my TED Talk.

[deadrlngers]

no pairing in the world will ever serve as much cunt as a courier x benny one, i will die with this truth in my heart

[loudclan-clangen]

Loudclan - Moon 29: Part 3

Things are gonna get a bit darker than they have been in the second half of this moon. Be warned and check the tags! Happy Spooky Season!

The sun is ever-present in the summer sky. It sits vigil alongside the clan. Soon after the bodies arrive at camp a patrol sets out to track the rogues, but finding that they have already crossed Shadedclan's territory, it is decided that the opportunity for revenge has passed. They'll double patrols and wait to see if the murders try to cross the territory on their way home. Many are upset, but few argue. As the sky begins to lose it's duskiness, the vigil is ended, the bodies buried, and the clan cats left to filter back into camp at their own pace. Wildfirecry excuses himself to clear his head, while Dancepaw attempts to bridge the gap with the only brother he has left.

Seeing Rosehiptree will be left alone in the burial place, Songpaw decides to stay for a while.

It takes Wildfirecry three days to find the farm cats.

There are Forestclan traditions that were never passed on to Loudclan. Rites that were deemed too dark to touch the newborn clan and thus were cast aside. But here, miles past the valley territories, they live on.

Wildfirecry returns to Loudclan's camp a week after the vigil having lost two lives. No one questions where he has been. The scent of rancid dried blood still lingers despite a fresh coat of oil, and his wounds, while closed, are unmistakably fresh. The clan returns to an uneasy normalcy.

[Whoo! I did it! This moon was INCREDIBLY hard for me. The first part relies so much on my dialogue skills, which, is the part of comic-making that comes least easily to me, and the second part is super experimental, which was so much fun, but also mentally tiring. (On that note please let me know if it's like impossible to see. I meant for it to be a bit difficult to make out, but it's hard to gage between my ipad and my laptop whether it will be readable for all of you. I can fiddle with the color grading tomorrow if necessary.) And finally, Rosehip's experience here is really, really close to my heart. That means that her scenes here are ones that I really wanted to write, but also that I had to take a couple of breaks to make sure that I wasn't wearing myself down too much, so sorry that it took longer than I thought and I haven't been able to answer as many asks as I had hoped to. Anyway, despite early difficulty I had a GREAT time finishing this moon up and I'm happy with how it turned out! Songpaw and Rosehiptree are keeping the trauma dump to best friends pipeline alive and I love them for it. Erminekit is kinda being a brat but he really just wants to be there for his best friend and everyone is getting in the way! He doesn't really get the concept of "giving someone space". As far as Moon 30 I have a science class that I'd like to get finished by the end of the month, so it will probably be a minute. Hope you guys enjoy!]

First Moon

Next Moon

[bakugoushotwife]

in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!

and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.

we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??

let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.

P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 19: Sex tape

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), spanking, p in v sex, dirty talk, implied pre/no breakout, if I missed anything please let me know!

You looked directly into the camera when Joel pushed into you.

It wasn’t about putting on a show; it was about creating a show with your naturally occurring responses to his actions.

And based on how easy it was for Joel to pull a reaction from you, it would be quite the display when all was said and done.

“Li’l old for that…” He had hesitated when you brought the idea to him. “Bad for business.”

“No press is bad press, Joel,” you waved off his reluctance with a laugh. “And it wouldn’t be—we wouldn’t put it anywhere. It’s just…a nice thing, for us. To look back at all the ways we make each other feel good.”

You’d never do anything to make him uncomfortable, and if he truly put his foot down, said it was a bad idea and that he wasn’t happy with the concept, you would have let the conversation end there and never brought it up again.

But maybe it was the cool summer air, the waning heat and the beer in his hand; maybe it was because he liked the idea of being able to pull up a clip of you moaning for him whenever he liked; maybe it was just because he loved you—in any event, he smirked, rubbing a calloused hand over his face.

“Alright, sweetheart. Convinced me,” he turned to you, holding eye contact as he sipped his beer. “But I get to decide what, uh—the positionin’.”

You had smiled up at him, cheeks warm.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Joel propped the camera up on the dresser so that it filmed everything that happened on the bed.

And it did film everything.

His fingers had explored every inch of your skin, groping and squeezing you in his characteristic, gently merciless way.  

He’d eaten you out for half an hour, pulling whines from you and soaking his face in your slick.

He made sure to pick the camera up when he used his hands, pointing the lens at your cunt when he slid two fingers into your soaked hole before panning up to your face—the way your eyes rolled back when he hit your tender spot was something he wanted to be able to replay as often as he pleased.

When you went down on him, he put the camera on the edge of the bed, making sure the video captured your lips wrapped around his cock as you knelt between his legs, and the way your tits looked when you let your drool dripped down your chin and over the pillowy flesh.

Joel couldn’t believe he had ever had doubts about this. The fact that he would be able to rewatch himself fucking your face could’ve been enough to make him cum down your throat right then and there.

But he held back until he had you on all fours, facing the camera that he had placed so purposefully back on the dresser.

You moaned lowly when he thrust into you, your body still reeling from the way he’d used his mouth and hands.

Joel tugged at your hips, pulling you onto his cock in slow, deep drags. The tip nestled against your cervix, and the dull pain blossomed into something irresistibly sinful.

You let your head drop, arms all but giving out beneath you as you pressed your face into the mattress.

“C’mon, princess—” Joel rumbled behind you, reaching down to tug you up by your hair, “Smile for the camera, sweetheart.”

You let him manipulate your body, bringing your head back up to force your face into the camera. The pace of his hips increased, and you whimpered through a lazy, desperate smile.

“’At’s it. Tell ‘em how much you love gettin’ fucked,” He tightened his grip on your hair, wrapping it around his fist and pulling. “Tell the camera how much you love this cock, princess.”

“Fuck,” you breathed, his words going straight to your core and working to emphasize the pressure of his thrusts. “It’s—I love it. I love getting fucked, I love it.”

“I said tell ‘em how much you love this cock,” his hand left your hips for a moment, coming down on your ass with a snap before he regained his grip on your side. “How much you love my cock—go’head and say it.”

“I love your cock, Joel, I fucking love it—feels so fucking good. Stretches me so good, I love your cock.” You were whining, rolling your hips in an attempt to match the way he rocked into you.

He laughed, squeezing your side and plunging his cock in and out of you at a ruthless pace.

“Yeah, you do,” he groaned behind you, “You fuckin’ love this cock, ain’t that right? Do anythin’ for a chance to have me fuck you real good.”

“Y—es,” your whimpers were broken, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock to form coherent sentences.

Joel let go of your hair, and you whined as your face fell forward onto the bed.

“Keep lookin’ at the camera, sweetheart,” he growled out, “Show the camera how pretty you look cummin’ f’me.” With his newly free hand, Joel wrapped his arm around you to knead your clit in quick circles.

You complied with an eager moan, craning your neck to press your cheek into the mattress, eyes gazing up towards the camera lens. Your pupils rolled back, the pressure from his fingers and the stretch of his cock as he continued to pound into you becoming too much for you to handle.

You came with a cry of his name, arching your back as you clenched around his cock.

“Shit—fuck, yeah,” Joel’s hips stuttered when you squeezed around him, so tight it was almost too much for him. “Show me how much you love my cock, princess, fuckin’—Christ, good girl.”

When you’d stopped trembling, your breath returning in small puffs rather than hectic gasps that carried his name, he pulled out of you.

He moved off the bed to grab the camera, and it was then you realized his depraved intentions.

“C’mere, on your knees,” he fisted his cock with his other hand, “Keep your mouth shut.”

With heavy limbs, you tried desperately to scramble to your knees. It was unceremonious, you looked as though you’d forgotten how to move your body, still hazy with lust, but you managed to position yourself on your knees in front of him.

Joel zoomed in on your face as he continued to fist his cock.

“Show me that smile, baby,” he groaned, gritting his teeth as he tried to stave off release for just a moment longer. “Ask nicely for my load.”

“Please, Joel,” you batted your lashes at the camera, adding showmanship to your degeneracy. “Want your cum. Want you to cum on my pretty face, please.”

Joel grunted, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut before spilling onto your face. He looked down at you to see his spend drip down your cheeks in thick trails, taking his cock and rubbing the tip against your stained skin.

You poked your tongue out, licking at whatever fell near your mouth, and Joel groaned at the sight.

“Pretty.” He breathed, giving the camera one last glimpse before he stopped the video. He threw it onto the bed, quickly returning his attention to you.

He put his hands beneath your arms, hauling you up until he could help you tilt yourself back onto the bed.

You laughed softly, reaching up to explore the gluey mess on your face. You swiped your finger through his spend, skin sticking to skin, and pushed it into your mouth.

Joel ogled you, watching as you played with his cum and eagerly lapped it up. He leaned over you, pressing a kiss to your sticky cheek and licking a stripe up your face to collect anything you missed.

“Told you,” you sighed, “Told you it would be fun.”

“Mmh,” he grunted against your jaw. “Never said it wouldn’t be.”  

You hummed in response, letting his tongue trace over your skin.

“Gimme the camera,” he murmured into you, “Watch it with me.”

You reached for the device, placing it onto your stomach where he could grab it.

“Right now?” You asked, intrigued by his impatience and urge to watch the video just as you had stopped filming.

“Right now,” he kissed your temple, grabbing the camera. “Then we’ll make another.”

[tomriddleslove]

Omg I have a THEODORE NOTT request for you

Super duper angst hurt comfort

Theo’s dad basically hurts the reader and sends her back to Theo as a warning to stay away from such mudbloods and its just heart wrenching guilt and hurt and tending to her wounds through treat

Song: Half a Man by dean lewis perhaps?

I already have.

✩Theodore Nott x Reader (request)

Summary: The one where Theo has the one person he loves the most hurt by his worst nightmare. Alternatively: He thinks he’d rather die than see you in pain.

A/N: I DID MANAGE TO DO IT BY TODAY!!! I’ll be responding to the next few requests soon. You said comfort but didn’t specify a happy ending 😺

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, blood.

Theodore Nott never expected to fall in love.

It seemed rather bleak for him, to be honest. He didn’t have the time to think about love when he was too busy wrapped up in navigating the life he had ahead of him.

One couldn't blame him though. With his family as the only example of what love could be, he certainly didn't have a good impression.

Theodore couldn’t recall a single time when he had seen his father treat his mother with kindness or respect.

Let alone love? A truly laughable notion.

Theodore's father had not shown a single ounce of love to his wife, or Theodore. Even on that godforsaken day when Theodore had witnessed his mother die, his father had simply delivered a swift strike to his face and told him to ‘man up.’

So to put it simply, The absence of love in his family cast a shadow over his perception of relationships, making it difficult for him to fathom the idea of falling in love himself.

Then you came.

You came, and god, Theodore doesn't remember how he lived without you. It wasn’t a whirlwind love, a sort of fell fast and hard, rather you entered his life like a slow and steady rain, seeping through the foundations of Theodore's life till you had consumed them completely, crumbling them down against his own will.

It rained, and you became the quiet storm, soft yet unyielding.

Love came like the easiest thing when he met you. It wasn't foreign, or a distant concept; instead, it felt like the most natural and effortless occurrence in Theodore's life. Love with you was as simple and uncomplicated as breathing, a seamless rhythm that he hadn't known was missing until you came along.

You were more than shocked when Theodore admitted he didn’t think he could ever fall in love. The boy, who loved you as though he was born to (he argues he was), who would so tenderly kiss your forehead and hold your hand, not capable of love? The one who would leave his coat for you during the winter months and bring a spare scarf because, he knew you were stubborn, and he was worried you'd get sick, not deserving of love?

You kissed him deeply and made him swear he'd never think of that ever again.

You reminisced on Theodore like some sort of lovesick fool separated by war from their lover, though it was merely only the summer holidays. Whilst Theodore would want nothing more than to come with you, his father demanded his presence back at home. You knew little about Theodore's mother, and even less about his father. Anything leading up to a conversation about them would simply result in Theodore immediately redirecting the conversation, becoming a tad more guarded for the next day or so.

It’s not that he didn’t trust you, because he wholeheartedly did. He would place his beating heart in your hands even if you had a knife in the other, for he trusted you that much.

No, in fact, it was the very opposite. Theodore knew you, and he refused to let you ever get involved in that part of his life. He swore he would never let his father even lay his eyes on you.

He would have loved for his mother to have met you. He doesn't remember her that well, but he's sure, some sort of instinctive feeling within him, that she would have loved you.

You had been back in Hogsmeade a mere 2 days before school had started, to stockpile on some supplies for school.

Students were permitted to start returning to Hogwarts three days before school began, and you would always go back early, valuing having the near-empty castle. It meant you could settle back into a school routine comfortably, and have some time alone before school resumes.

It also gave you time to do stuff for Theodore. You didn't know much about what went on at his house, but assuming from the way he’d come back absolutely exhausted with bags under his eyes, you figured it wasn't good.

It seemed to be the same routine almost every time you'd come back - he comes over to your dorm (luckily for you, all your dormmates essentially lived in their boyfriend's dorms, as they were all friends with one another, so you had it all to yourself 99% of the time). He’d kiss you hello and wordlessly take off his shoes and jacket. You’d lie on your bed and he’d come lie on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He would rest his head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat soothing him, as he listened to you talk about your holidays till he fell asleep, feeling safe for the first time, unburdened by his worries.

He’d sleep, and you'd trace the furrow of his brow. You ached for the ability to just, alivieate him of everything he carried so close to him. But you knew that healing was a long journey, and you'd be there for him on the way.

You wander around a little bookstore, finding a book for you and Theodore to read. You paid for the copy, turning to leave the shop when you bump into a man.

You quickly offered a polite apology, even though his cold gaze and disdainful demeanour sent a chill down your spine.

Those eyes. They were oh so familiar to the very striking eyes of the boy you so loved. Come to think of it, the hair was the same too. Was this…..

"Watch where you're going, girl," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain

You clenched your jaw, swallowing the anger that threatened to surface. Keeping your composure, you replied evenly, "I apologize if I inconvenienced you, sir."

His eyes then flickered to the books in your hands, a sceptical look crossing his face. "You are a student at Hogwarts? What year?" he sneered.

You took a deep breath before responding, "Final year, sir."

Seeing an opportunity to shift the dynamics, you gestured towards Theodore's family resemblance. "You must be Theodore's father. The resemblance is striking."

His eyes narrowed, and he asked with an air of suspicion, "How do you know Theodore?"

You hesitated for a moment but decided to be honest. "We're dating."

Theodore's father raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and derision on his face. "Dating, are you?" he scoffed. "Tell me, girl, who are your parents? Perhaps I've heard of them."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you shake your head, responding. "I doubt you would know them. They're Muggles."

His expression darkened, and a look of pure contempt appeared on his face. "Muggles? Muggles?" He snarls, taking a step closer to you.

Theodore's father's face contorted with disgust, and his voice dripped with venom as he continued, "You, a pathetic Muggle, dare to pollute my son's bloodline? You're nothing but filth, tarnishing the Nott family name with your presence."

You felt a surge of anger and fear. This is what Theodore was trying to keep from you. That his family were prejudiced against your very existence.

Without warning, he roughly grabbed your arm, his grip tightening painfully. The pain shot through you, and you winced.

"Listen closely, Mudblood," he hissed, tightening his hold. "You're nothing more than a passing fancy for my son. If you have any sense, you'll sever ties with him before you bring further shame upon yourself."

Without a second to let you answer, he releases his grip on you, spinning on his heel as he storms out of the store. It takes you a second to recuperate and process what the fuck had just gone on before you turn and quickly dash out of the store, trying to catch a glimpse of his father. Sure enough, you spot him disappearing down a narrow alley.

Before you can stop to think, you chase after him, shouting as you do.

“Hey!” You snap, closing in on the distance.

Theodore was correct in one thing. He knew you well. And he knew that if you ever knew of his father, you’d get involved.

His father’s long black cloak billowed behind him, disappearing down a narrow alleyway that seemed to swallow his wrath. Fueled by a mixture of hurt and anger, you hurried after him, determined to address the injustice he had just unleashed.

Desperation laced your anger-fuelled shouts as you closed the distance. His brisk pace showed no signs of slowing, and as you reached out to grab his arm, the narrowness of the alley made it easy for him to turn around swiftly.

"How dare you touch me, you wretched Mudblood!" he hissed, his eyes ablaze with hatred.

Before you could react, he unleashed a hex.

It hit you with an intensity that sent a shockwave of pain radiating through your body. The force of the curse flung you backwards, and you collided with the cold stone wall, gasping for breath. A searing pain radiates throughout your body, and you cough, looking down. It was akin to some sort of slash, as though he had hit you with an invisible thing, a clean cut on your thigh, and arm. You see a drop of blood drip down onto your skirt and, dazed, bring your hand up to your face. You feel something wet, and when you pull your hand back it has a crimson red glistening on your fingertips, and-

oh.

There was a cut on your face too.

As you steadied yourself, you felt the searing pain intensify, a burning sensation spreading from the point of impact on your arm. Theodore's father approached with a malevolent satisfaction etched across his face. He looms over you, glaring down at you.

"You'd do well to heed my warning, Mudblood," he sneers, his voice low and menacing. "Stay away from my son, or next time, the consequences will be even more severe."

He cast a disdainful glance at your injured form before straightening up, his dark cloak billowing as he walked away without a second thought.

You took a deep breath, shuddering as you braced your palms against the cobblestone floor of the alleyway. You push yourself up, wincing as you try to ignore the throbbing pain in your body as you gingerly get up.

You gather your scattered belongings and look around, seeing nothing but the near-empty village. Summoning every ounce of strength, you began to limp back towards the castle, the weight of humiliation pressing down on your shoulders.

You felt exposed. The idea that Theodore had hidden such a massive thing from you, made you feel all the more humiliated.

You keep your head down and soon enough appear at Hogwarts. It doesn't give you the happiness it usually does, rather you just want to go back to your room and change, and sleep.

It was at this moment that you were rather glad that you decided to come back early, for you can only imagine the looks you'd get if it was packed full of students.

Exhausted, and simply just over it, you make your way up to the dorm. There are only two other students you spotted on the way, but they were far too busy snogging the daylights out of one another to notice you.

It reminded you of…

Theodore.

How would you face Theodore? Did you want to face Theodore?

No, you resolved, you didn’t. You couldn't comprehend keeping such a key detail from someone, let alone the person you loved. Why he did that to you, you’d never understand.

You unlock your dorm room door, dropping your bag at the door, You look up and to your utter confusion, see Theodore sitting on your bed. He looks up at you, the smile on his face very quickly replaced with a deep frown.

He gets up, and-

oh.

Never mind.

You did want to be near him.

You really wanted to be near him.

It was stupid really. You didn’t feel like crying at all, but the second you saw Theodore, that feeling very quickly resolved into the urge to bury your face into your chest, and not stop.

So you did.

Theodore's arms envelop you, and he holds you impossibly tight. He swears every sob that comes from you chips away at his being and he soothes you, rubbing your back as he holds you.

Theodore can count the number of times he's felt pure anger on one hand. Sheer rage. The type that consumes you from the inside out. Once when he was 8, and his mother passed away. He remembers hearing his father disregard the whole thing with such cruel indifference he felt as though a fire was blazing him from the inside out. As with many young wizards his age, he did not know how to control this magic.

He ended up setting fire to the library that day.

The second time, in 1st year, when Alicia Thornsby had made a cruel remark about Theodore’s home life.

“Well, my mother said that Theodore must have a horrible holiday. What, with his father being-” She starts, but she didn’t get to finish.

The teachers couldn’t comprehend under what vindication a child learnt a stinging hex strong enough to permanently mar the skin of the girl, but it was the first and last time anyone dared utter a word against Theodore.

That was the 2nd, and last time Theodore had felt unbridled rage, in his 18 years of life.

That was, until today.

Because, the sight of you, with blood on your cheek, sobbing into his chest, was enough to reignite that dormant flame of anger within Theodore.

“Who?” He manages to utter, voice strained.

You remain quiet, the silence punctuated by the occasional sniffle as you remain hidden in his chest.

He pulls back, lifting your chin. Your eyes are fixated on where the once-dried blood had washed onto his shirt, and he is fixated on you.

“Who?” He emphasises again, his eyes flickering down to the cut on your face. He runs his finger gently along the cut, and when he watches you wince he pauses, a flicker of pain crossing his face. The sight of you wincing, even at his gentle touch, shatters something within Theodore.

You hesitate before you speak, but ultimately, the words slip out of your mouth.

“Your father.”

The weight of those two words, "Your father," hung in the air, and for a moment, Theodore felt as if the very ground beneath him had crumbled.

His eyes widen momentarily, and he can't speak.

No, because there's a horrible feeling of fear, guilt, regret, perhaps a combination of all three, and it's lodged in his throat. It’s almost suffocating him, he can barely breathe, and it's constricting his airways.

The image of you, the person he held dearest, broken and bloodied, collided with the nightmare he had feared for years. He couldn't comprehend the cruelty his own flesh and blood had inflicted upon you, someone he cherished beyond measure. He speaks, and his voice is so heartbreakingly soft, a mere whisper weighed down by the burden of the truth that unfolded before him.

“I'm so, so sorry.” He utters, as though he prompted the hand that came down to hit you.

He believed he did. Because it was only by association, that you had been hurt by his father. That was why you were hurt, right?

His fault. All his fault. All his fault.

He has to take a deep breath and force himself to calm down and think.

Think.

His first priority was you. Always you. He leads you down to your bed and forces you to take a seat on the edge. You watch him as he disappears into the bathroom, reemerging with a damp washcloth in his hand. He kneels down in front of you, hesitating as he slowly lifts the hem of your skirt upwards slightly. He catches a glimpse of the gash on your thigh and that horrible feeling remerges again.

He gently wipes the cloth over the cut, leaning down to press a kiss on your skin. He mutters a few words, and with a small sharp pinch, the skin on your thigh begins to stitch up slightly. Not enough to fully heal, but to ensure it would in the future.

You don’t question how he knows exactly how to heal these wounds.

You know.

He does the same for your arm. Every second he stares at the cut, he feels his resolve shatter further and further, till he can tell whether he wants to cry or ensure the murder of his father with his own hands.

His hands come up to your face, and he lets out a shaky breath. He is ashamed to even look you in the face,

His own reflection of guilt and regret is etched into his features. He keeps his eyes focused on the task at hand, tending to the wounds inflicted upon you by the person who Theodore swore would never even set his gaze on you.

The room is filled with an anguished silence as Theodore continues his ministrations.

As he tends to your injuries, Theodore's mind is a battleground of self-recrimination. The echoes of your sobbing, the memory of your blood on his shirt, haunt him like a relentless ghost. "I'm so, so sorry," he whispers again, the words heavy with remorse as if he could somehow atone for the sins of his family.

With each stitch on your wounds, he feels the seams of his composure unravelling.

When he finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, the vulnerability in his eyes is palpable. The shame he feels is evident.

You muster a weak smile, a hand coming up to cup his face. Your thumb brushes against his cheek lovingly as you speak, your voice calm.

“It's not your fault,”

He wants to cry.

It is. It is his fault.

Theodore pulls you into an embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. The warmth of his embrace is both comforting and suffocating, a paradox of love and guilt; a conflict that threatens to tear him apart.

As Theodore lies down with you, the weight of his guilt still hangs in the air. He holds you as if trying to shield you from the world. He utters words of apology, repeating the words like a mantra.

“I love you.”

But amidst the soothing cadence of his voice, there's an undercurrent of resolution. The conflict within Theodore reaches its zenith, and a painful decision emerges. He knows he can't risk his father ever hurting you again. The love he feels for you clashes with the harsh reality of his future.

Theodore's grip tightens for a moment as if trying to hold onto the fleeting moments of solace. Yet, with a heavy heart, the decision he has to make is almost clear.

“It isn't your fault. Don't apologise.” You whisper, curled into his arms.

“It is. It's all my fault. I got you involved in this,” He utters, as though the admission is poison on his tongue.

“I’m not a good person. I have a horrible family, and he’ll want me to do horrible things, and I’ll have to do them.” He admits, voice breaking.

“No, you don’t. I’m here. I love you, Theodore. I won’t ever leave, and I swear you won’t deal with that alone.” You repeat, voice laced with conviction.

“I'm beyond help. Don’t give your heart to me.” He croaks.

You lift your head up from where it was resting, eyes gazing directly into his. You remain silent for a beat, then two, before you speak.

“I already have.” You respond.

Theodore should feel relief at those words, but he doesn't. Rather, he feels sick. Because he can’t, he won't risk you getting hurt again. He kisses you and pulls you back in, laying next to one another as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly, if only for one last night.

Because there was only one thing Theodore could do to make sure his father would never hurt you again.

He had to leave you.

[hederasgarden]

I can’t stop thinking about Scott x Tyler’s young sister! Reader. Like she’s all bubbly and sweet offering him food, and he starts to feel guilty over being so condescending towards their group. Maybe like he comes to her hotel room one day to apologize (kinda like Tyler bringing Kate that pizza) and they just start to bond. Anyways Scott has such a chokehold on me

Scott seems to have a chokehold on a lot of us. I’m not sure what it is about a mean, 6'4" engineer, but I feel like I could fix him (though I probably couldn’t).

Thank you so much for sharing your idea with me!

Since I strive to be as inclusive as possible, I usually avoid writing readers who are directly related to another character. That’s to ensure that everyone can insert themselves into my stories. However, it would certainly be hilarious to see Tyler come unglued when he finds out his little sister is shacking up with the resident asshole.

I do like this concept for a reader who Tyler and co adopt as their little sister so we get the same protective vibes.

Scott would be annoyed and confused by her, simply because being happy and positive all the time is not how he operates. I love the idea of him being really awful to the reader, only to realize—after he’s driven her away—that he actually liked having her around. (Please don't ask who hurt me in the past for this be a sexy plot point for me, okay?)

He’d be the most awkward apologizer, standing there rubbing the back of his neck and sort of half-insulting her in the process. He would likely bring a peace offering, something specific he’s seen her eating because, at the end of the day, he is a smart and observant guy.

The reader would just stand there, perplexed, until she finally asks, “Are you trying to apologize to me?”

“Yeah,” Scott replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh….you're like dumb smart, huh?" She says with a laugh. "Well, I forgive you."

Scott would stand there, looking surly, until she invites him to have some pizza and watch a movie.

[yeollie-plz]

Promises.

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Synopsis: In a world where gender roles have been reestablished, Joel continues to save you.

Genre: fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: no outbreak but different outbreak?, i can't explain it, established relationship, Y/N insert, p in v sex, unprotected sex, forced marriage, kissing, mentions of alcoholism and abusive relationships, explosions, pet names, kissing, orgasm denial, breeding kink?, rough sex, spanking, hair pulling

All gif credits to owners!

A/N: Once again writing from a dream I had, idk why I get such vivid dreams sometimes but its honestly so fun!

Also! I am so sorry that I haven't written something in so long, I had literally no motivation. But I hope you didn't miss me too much! And hey, I'm coming back with a bang! (literally, in a few aspects)

When the world almost ended 20 years ago, the government had to issue new laws. Laws that matched up women to men, in order to ensure the repopulation of the human race.

If you were of age, you were matched and married, the man basically owned you. It was very medieval in concept and for a lot also in practice. But for you, it brought you Joel who had slowly but surely became your whole world.

He was kind and took care of you. Nothing like the horror stories you would hear from the other women. He wanted to protect you and let you take your time to warm up to him.

When you finally admitted you liked him he was overjoyed. He had kissed you but took his time with everything else. He knew it was your first time and he wanted to make sure you felt safe and loved. Joel was good and you couldn't be more happy with who was chosen for you.

The world, although now different and strange was the world you had to live in. You had to stay home, unless accompanied by Joel. The goal to repopulate the earth after an alien race tried to take over and wiped out half the population was going well. But with less humans and more aliens taking up living here, it wasn't the safest anymore.

Everyone was assigned a job, a person to marry, and a home to live in. It was organized with the goal of integrating humans and the aliens. And it was working as well as it could be. In the beginning it was rough but after so many years people were getting used to the new world order.

There, of course, was still some rebel groups out there. Women who wanted freedom, aliens who didn't want to be a part of earth, and humans who didn't want them either. Riots would happen here and there because of these rebel groups. But you? You were safe with Joel, you knew that, and you trusted him fully.

You woke to the sun shining in through the large windows that lined your apartment. One good thing about being assigned housing was that most were very nice. Rolling over you were met with an empty bed, Joel was no where to be found. There was no sound coming from the connected bathroom, and just as you were about to get out of bed in search of him there was a crash in the kitchen.

Out of instinct you threw the seats off of you and ran into the kitchen. Only to be met with Joel bent down on the floor cleaning up a broken plate.

"Joel?" You questioned, the shock now leaving your voice and being replaced by amusement.

"Hi baby." He said sheepishly as he picked up the last few shards.

"You okay?"

"Yep, just trying to make you breakfast a failing miserably, the usual." He shrugs and throws the shards away before leaving his mess for a second to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"It's the thought the counts." You smile at him while watching while he finishes up his cleaning.

You sit at the counter, watching him intently. After he finishes cleaning he returns to the stove. You hum to yourself as you watch him. The way his back flexes as he moves his arms makes you bite your lip.

Joel turns as you basically eye fuck him, smirking as he notices the look on your face. Placing a plate in front of you, he smiles at you, and leans across the counter for a kiss. You give him one and utter a small thank you.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joel spoke up, "Got a lot of cleanup at work today, someone vandalized the train station." He said almost absentmindedly.

You nod in response not being able to hide the concerned look on your face.

"What?" He questions, quickly noticing.

"It's just-" You set down your fork, "-it was probably one of the rebels and I just don't want you to be put in danger."

He smiles lovingly at you, "I'm sure they won't be anywhere near it anymore, it was just some spray paint. Besides, you don't think I can protect myself?"

"No, I know you can protect yourself. But you'll just want to protect everyone else as well, then you'll get yourself in trouble."

Joel lets out a half scoff half laugh at your statement. He knows you are right, he is a protector by nature. He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him in an attempt to draw your eyes to his.

"The only person I want to protect is you. Sure, I will help the guys if they need it but my main goal is always to come home to you." Kissing your knuckles, he puts your hand down.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

It had been a few hours since Joel had left for work. You did what you did most days which included some cleaning with a lot of relaxing. As you were settling down on the couch after cleaning up the breakfast dishes, heavy knocking came from the front door.

The sound made you jump, the aggression of the pounds sent chills down your spine. You usually weren't one to open the door when Joel wasn't home but you did like to at least see who is was.

So, as another set of knocks sounded on the heavy wood door, you dragged your ice cold body towards it. Your feet felt like lead as you stood straight to see clearly out of the peep hole.

On the other side was your neighbor, Jill. Jill had always been nice to you, yet you didn't really like her husband. He was arrogant and rude to say the least. But as Jill stood on the other side of the door, you could see fear etching her face. She shook as she glanced back and forth down the hallway. It was almost like she thought someone was following her.

After a few seconds of debating what to do and watching Jill secretively, you decided that whatever was happening to her was important enough to help. Girls had to stick together, especially when your world had become what it was.

Just as Jill was about to pound on the door again, you opened it slowly revealing yourself to her. She seemed almost shocked that you had answered.

"Jill?" You questioned trying to snap her out of her trance enough for her to explain.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do." She looked at you with pleading eyes and you knew this was something serious.

"Come in, I'll get you something to drink. Maybe some tea?" You weren't sure what else to do but when you were anxious you liked a nice warm tea, maybe Jill did too. She nods at your suggestion and enters the house.

You close the door behind the two of you. Telling her to make herself comfortable while you made her tea.

When you returned to the living room with a nice cup of tea, Jill was still stood in the entrance of your apartment. Arms crossed like she was trying to protect herself.

Slowly you made your way over to her, holding out the mug to her. She took it after a beat or two of staring at it.

"Please, sit down. Take your time, you can tell me what happened." She looked up from the mug to you as you spoke and nodded tentatively, but did what you said anyway.

Silence washed over the two of you and stayed there for almost three whole minutes. You weren't sure what to do so you kept glancing around like something on walls would tell you what to do.

Suddenly she placed her mug down on the coffee table. Your head snapped towards her, you had almost forgotten why she was here. Something had clearly happened and you were curious what.

"I'm sorry for coming over here so abruptly, it's terrible of me to put you in this position." She said with a sigh.

"It's no problem. I can tell you aren't doing great so I'd like to be there for you if I can be." You offer a smile which she almost returns.

"Uh well how do I put this?" She sits and thinks for a second.

"My match...my match isn't such a good fit. He isn't a good person. Since the wedding day he has gotten drunk almost every night. He gets angry and yells and breaks things. He's just a bad person. Even not drunk he isn't a good person." You nod along to the things she's saying. you've heard of bad matches but nothing this bad.

"Well for a while I put up with it. I mean what else am I going to do? This is what had been chosen for me. He didn't always take it out on me too, he would yell at nothing or himself. But eventually it was turned towards me. Nothing I did was right and no matter how hard I worked to keep everything perfect he'd find something wrong with it." Tears are beginning to form in the corners of her eyes the longer she tells you about her husband.

All you can do is sit there and listen, unsure of how to respond. You've never seen Joel angry, let alone as angry as she is describing her husband.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Jill continues, "He would yell and call me names. Tell me how worthless I am and he would throw things, break things. He never got physical with me so I took it. I took the names, I took the insults, all of it. But I couldn't take it anymore, I tried to stand up for myself. And-and-" She chokes up not able to finish her sentence.

This is when you reach out your arm to touch her shoulder. An attempt at a reassuring gesture that just has her jumping back instead. She recovers and looks up at you with apologetic eyes. You give a small smile back.

"He hurt me, badly. I thought he wouldn't stop, it just kept happening. I think I blacked out because when I came to he was gone. I didn't know what else to do so I came over here. I think I should go to the hospital but I can't go without him. I just don't know what to do." She was fully crying now, her words almost indiscernible as she sobbed.

You offered her a tissue which she took and sobbed even more into. Unsure if you should try and comfort her again, you decided it was better to try and this time she didn't shy away. Instead she leaned into the touch and you stroked her shoulder slowly. The action seemed to calm her down remarkably and she eventually calmed down enough that you felt it was a good time to finally respond.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry we don't get choices or options. I'm so sorry we are forced to submit to insane ideals and insane people." She lets out another sob. "Listen, Joel doesn't work too far from here and if you think you are strong enough we can go to him and he can take you to the hospital. As long as we have a man with us, they should treat you."

"You mean...go out alone."

You debate what you had just suggested, I guess you had suggested going out alone but it wouldn't be too far of a journey.

"It's not too far and we aren't alone we have each other. We can wear disguises if it makes you feel better. I just want to be able to get you the help you need."

"Are you sure Joel will help me?"

You nod, "If I ask him, he will do it."

She frowns a bit at your statement, you didn't realize how perfect you were making your relationship seem after she just poured her heart out to you.

"Listen, he will help, I promise."

So, the two of you donned some hood and masks in an attempt to cover your hair and feminine features. You also gave Jill an ice pack to soothe her injuries for the time being.

"Ready?" You glanced at her trying to decipher what she was thinking. She stood there still looking very guarded. "Here, we can hold hands, make sure the other doesn't get lost." You offer your hand to her with a smile, she smiles back and takes it.

Leaving your apartment the two of you make your way to the ground floor. It wasn't often that you left the apartment but when you did it was obviously always accompanied by Joel. Something about leaving on your own felt freeing but very scary at the same time.

The train station was a short walk from your building, maybe half a block. Joel always told you exactly where he was working that day and what he was doing. You liked to hear his stories of the outside world and it made you feel safe to know he was safe.

As the two of you got closer to the bustling crowds trying to catch their trains, you felt Jill tense up next to you. You glance at her and squeeze her hand tighter. This draws her attention to you.

"Not far now, we'll be fine."

You didn't know how much you would regret this sentence because as soon as you caught sight of Joel's salt and pepper hair an explosion busted out the wall a mere hundred or so feet to the left of you.

Through the hole in the wall came a group of rebel aliens, screaming and yelling something. With how loud and close the explosion was you ears were ringing. You glanced around at the crowd who was now running around in fear. Trying to catch a glimpse of your husband in the mess, you felt a hand tug yours. Looking down you saw Jill on the ground, curled into herself. She was crying again.

You jumped into action trying to pull her up so no one stepped on her, but she wouldn't budge. "Jill please, get up we need to get somewhere safer!"

She still didn't move, you looked around desperately. Either you were going to find Joel or someone else that could help. That's when you caught a glimpse of him. There was no way he could hear you over the yells and chaos but you called his name anyway.

And it was almost like his ears were trained to hear your voice and your voice alone because not long after beginning to call out to him, he locked eyes with him. He took a double take, convincing himself it wasn't really you. Then his eyebrows furrowed realizing he wasn't imagining things and quickly pushed through the crowd towards you.

He was now stood in front of you, your face in his hands as he looked you over. "Baby what are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

The questions came quickly, too quickly to answer so you nodded instead.

"Joel, I'm fine. I came to get your help and then the explosion..." You trailed off not sure how to explain yourself now that you had put yourself in such danger.

"Tell me later, come on, I gotta get you out of here." He tries to drag you out but you pull him back, stopping him.

"I can't go, we need to get Jill."

"Jill? Our neighbor, Jill?" You nod and gesture to her still on the ground.

He looks confused but doesn't question it, instead he walks over to Jill.

"Jill? Can you walk?" She shakes her head no.

"Can I carry you, we really need to get somewhere safe." She takes minute and eyes him closely, trying to decide if he was trustworthy. Finally, she nods.

So he picks her up carefully and turns to you, "Hold onto my shirt and don't let go." You nod and grab ahold of the plaid shirt he was currently wearing.

That's how the three of you made your way out of the chaos. But Joel didn't stop until you were at least a block away from the danger before stopping and setting Jill carefully down onto her shaking legs.

You quickly made your way to her to help her stabilize herself and when she did you looked back at Joel. His back was turned to you and his hands were in his hair. He wasn't happy, you knew that, so you didn't speak just kept trying to calm down Jill.

Finally he turned back around, eyes filled with something you had never seen before. At least something you had never seen in Joel.

He breathed deeply, "I need to get you home." He said simply.

"Okay, but Jill needs to go to the hospital first."

"What?" The curtness of his voice had you reeling back a bit, was he angry? You had never really seen Joel angry before, not at you at least.

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself before he said something he would regret.

"We will take her to the hospital, make sure she is in safe hands, then we are going home."

"But what if she needs me?" The look on his face at your response should've had you stopping at 'but', so you just nodded.

And that's what you did. Made sure Jill was in safe hands and that her family was called to help her and you were dragged home. It was less than twenty minutes before Joel was pushing you back out the door and dragging you home.

You didn't protest but you also didn't know what to say to him. So as the two of you entered your apartment, you went to explain yourself. Instead your explanations were muffled by Joel's lips on yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was unsure you were really there. Maybe unsure you were really okay?

"Joel-" You mumble into his lips as he doesn't stop kissing yours. A grunt sounds from him as he hears you say his name.

He doesn't want to talk it seems because his lips stay on yours and his hands find the back of your thighs lifting you up into arms. You help him by jumping and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your arms find their place behind his neck.

Joel carries you through the apartment, lips never letting up. They only disconnect as he drops you onto your bed and quickly takes off his shirt. Leaning back over you his knee is placed between your legs and you gasp at how close he is, his body heat, making you feel even warmer than you already did.

"I thought I lost you." He says simply but you can see in his eyes he really means those words.

But you don't have a chance to respond because his lips are back on you. This time trailing down your jaw to your neck, only to be stopped by the fabric of your shirt. Joel lets out another grunt as he grabs the bottom of shirt and quickly whips it off of you like it had offended him.

As soon as the shirt is off of you his lips are back on your neck, now trailing to the places he really wanted to get to. Your bra is unclasped quicker than you can even process what is happening. His mouth instantly biting at the sensitive skin of your breast, biting at it only a bit before licking down to your nipple.

You gasp as his mouth latches onto the sensitive bud. You hadn't realized how turned you were until that moment. Sure you wanted this, you always wanted Joel but the danger of the day was catching up with you. Now you needed him, needed to feel protected, loved.

"Joel please, I-" Hearing you beg had him unlatching his mouth from your breast and looking up at you.

For almost the first time in an hour he finally addresses you, "What do you want baby?"

"You Joel, I need you. I-I'm sorry." The apology wasn't what he was asking for but it was what he needed to hear because as soon as those two words left your lips he was returning his attention to your chest.

He now attached himself to your other breast, giving that nipple what it had been missing. His hands worked at the button of your pants, undoing it and the zipper quickly. He shoved them down your legs with your help, lips never leaving your flushed skin.

As soon as your pants were down his hands were playing with the hem of your underwear. The thin fabric causing his touches to feel even more intense as he teased you just a bit. But he knew neither of you could wait much longer so he pushed them to the side and started stroking your clit.

Slow circles at first which had you arching your back, chest pushed even farther into his mouth as he continued to take care of both of your nipples. He stroked your clit a few more times before letting his fingers dip further down, teasing your slit.

You were wet, very wet, so they slid easily against you and you gasped. You could feel him smirk against your nipple. But this time he detached himself from it and returned his mouth to yours.

He worked a finger into you in time with your kissing. Then two, then three. They curved against your insides, you moaned into the kiss and bit down on his lip as he brushed the perfect spot inside of you.

Your head tossed back as you got closer to your peak the more he stroked you g spot. When you gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin enough to draw blood, he pulled his fingers out of you. Leaving you at the brink of an orgasm. You let out a whine as your head snapped back up to look at him.

"I don't like punishing you, doll, but tonight you're gonna need some discipline." You didn't argue just let your head drop slightly. He brought his down and caught your lips in his, forcing your head back up.

You didn't notice but he had unbuckled his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down just enough to let his member loose. He doesn't take your panties off either, instead he leaves them how they were when he was fingering you as his tip teases your entrance. You were still very sensitive from your denied orgasm so your hips jerked up at the contact.

He pretended not to notice and slapped his dick onto your clit, causing you to buck up once again. He pulled back, eyes searching yours. Joel had this look about him when the two of you had sex, something between dominance and love but right now it was a fire. One you hadn't seen before and it made you nervous but oh so excited. It had you gushing between your legs.

You bit your lip as his tip pushed past your entrance, sliding in easily with how wet you were, not to mention his thick fingers being there only minutes earlier.

"Always so tight." Joel grunts as he hilts himself fully inside of you. He stays like that reveling in the feeling before slowly pulling himself almost fully out of you just to snap his hips forward back into you.

He continues this and it is so aggressive that you need to grip onto his shoulders again for any form of support. He had never fucked you like this before. It had your brain fogging up with pleasure.

Your peak catches up with you quickly. You whimper, needing the release you have been waiting for. Joel notices and brings his thumb down to rub your clit a few times. Your heart swells thinking he is going to let you cum. But it is too good to be true because just as you begin to clench around him he is pulling away and out of you.

"Told you, you need to remember how to be a good girl first." The name has you swallowing a lump in your throat.

"I am Joel, please, I need you inside me." He stutters at your words, but recovers quickly, flipping you over onto your stomach.

"You don't just get to cum whenever you want, gonna have to work for it pretty girl." He kneads your ass as he speaks, clearly liking his new view.

"I'll do anything." You speak so quietly, Joel almost misses it. A dark chuckle leaves his lips.

"Want you to suck my dick so badly right now, you have no idea. But this-" His hand lands onto your round ass with a smack, "-this is too tempting right now."

Another smack and his member is returning between your legs as he pushes into you. You moan loudly at the intrusion, constantly getting more and more sensitive the more he denies you of what you need.

He thrusts in an out of you at the same speed as earlier. When his hips snap into yours, he lands a smack onto your ass. He relishes the feeling of you sucking him in each time he spanks you. The feeling causing you to clench onto his dick.

The hand not making your skin burn red is holding your hip so tightly the skin is turning white, you there will be bruises there tomorrow. Hell, at this rate you'll have all kinds of marks tomorrow.

"Want to fill you up, need to see you full of my cum." Although you knew what had gotten into Joel, you had never seen this side of him and it was almost jarring how much of a change it was. Was this the true him? Was he scared to show this side of himself? Scared you couldn't handle it? Fuck was he wrong.

"Please, I need your cum." And you decided to truly show him he was wrong. You liked this side of him and you wanted him to know that.

Joel grunted snapping his hips into yours so roughly it had you seeing stars. You could tell he was close and unsurprisingly so were you. You pushed your hips back into his and he was too far gone to deny you any longer.

"Joel, baby, please can I cum now?"

"Let go for me, I need you clench around this dick as I fill you with my seed. Want to see you all round and pregnant for me." His words send you over the edge with the orgasm you have been waiting for all night.

You clench like a vice onto his cock, the feeling sending him over his edge as well. The hand that was spanking you is sent up your spine to grip the back of your hair pulling your head back so he can attach his lips to yours.

You each moan into each other's mouths as he continues to pump you full of his seed. He works you both through your orgasms as your lips work against each other as well. Your breaths come out ragged as he finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes are closed as he speaks, "Did I hurt you baby?"

"No! I uh, I actually enjoyed it very much." He laughs at your response.

"I'm glad." He pauses. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Your brows furrow.

"For getting mad and getting rough with you, I never wanted to show you this side of me."

"Hey, look at me." He does. "I like every side of you. I should be the one apologizing right now. I got myself into danger by going against the rules."

Joel sighs and swallows the lump that was sitting in the back of his throat.

"I love you." Is all he can think to say.

"I love you." Is all you need to respond.

[vampiric-tempt]

Hello!! I love stories soooo muuchh >^<

Since it’s that time of year, how would Smoke, and other mk1 cast of your choice react to being in a haunted maze with the reader?? TYYY🎃🎃🎃

↳˳❝ mk1 cast in a haunted maze☾⋆｡° Pt. 1 🎃

✦ headcanons w/ liu kang, kung lao, raiden, lin kuei brothers, johnny cage, kenshi takahashi, shang tsung, havik, & syzoth

a/n: My brain was thinking really hard on how they'd actually be in a haunted maze and this is the best I came up for the first half! Part 2 will include the mk women too!!!

Liu Kang ➤ He finds the attraction somewhat amusing. However he does not find it scary. Being a god has trained him to become wise and undeterred to such things, but he does enjoy your company and how you push him from behind so he could lead. It even boost his ego a little, feeling your hands cling to him with a small smile on his face.

Kung Lao ➤ He talked a big game, claiming that he'd protect you and that you can cling to him. However, deep down inside he is actually afraid. Will he show it or admit it? Probably not, but his hand does clench whenever a scare actor jumps out. When you guys reach the end, he puffs out his chest. "See babe? Wasn't scary at all."

Liar.

Raiden ➤ He was pushed to the front and admitted he was a bit nervous. He does get scared, but is extremely nice about it. Saying things like "Woah, you really got me there!" or "That costume is really. . .realistic." And he's okay with people clinging to him, he feels better knowing that you can be safe around him. Raiden is a sweet boy so he really enjoys the concept of Halloween, he finds it very fun and a great way to hang out with others.

Bi-Han ➤ He is. . . unamused. His face is grumpy throughout the whole thing and when people try to scare him, he just kind of stares with a raised brow. He charges through the maze without an ounce of fear, dragging you behind him because he wants to get this whole thing over with.

"Did you have fun?" You ask him.

"No."

Kuai Liang ➤ Like a father who finds it fun, but isn't really scared by it. He'd laugh in amusement every time someone jumps out and he has an arm protectively around you. He's heard of Halloween before, but never really experienced it in his younger days, so truthfully, he liked it when you dragged him along to the event. Of course, you did it only to use him as a shield, but Kuai Liang was okay with it.

"Are these truly supposed to scare people?" He'd ask, grinning at you.

Tomas Vrbada ➤ Took some convincing to get him to even go in. He tried his best to make excuses because yes, he was afraid, but more of Bi-Han's opinion. However, Kuai Liang told him it was okay and to have fun. So it resulted in the two of you both clinging to each other throughout the whole thing, screams leaving your throats every time something happened. Even though Tomas was scared shitless, he enjoyed the absolute thrill it gave him. He never got the chance to enjoy the simple pleasures of just being scared and having fun so he loved it in the end.

Johnny Cage ➤ "You go in first." He says.

"No, you go in first."

"You're being a pussy."

"Says you."

You and him ended up going in at the same time faking confidence and ended up clinging to each other in fear. You guys screamed the loudest screams you've ever scrumpt (Ik this is not a real word) and even ended up trying to push open a pull door. The scare actors were very entertained by you two to say the least.

Kenshi Takahashi ➤ He can't see, but was happy to be there as you helped him walk through the maze. He did get spooked by the random sound effects and louds screams they did so being blind didn't make him miss out on the maze entirely.

In the beginning though, he thought it was childish, saying "Really? You want me of all people to go in with you?" But he had fun nonetheless. He didn't outright say it though because he did not want to seem soft.

Shang Tsung ➤ He thought it was a waste of time, childish, and stupid. Did he go in though? Reluctantly, he did. He would get scared, but would be irritated by it. Huffing like the sassy man he is and rolling his eyes every time they managed to spook him.

"That was ridiculous, but the contraptions in there did give me some great inspiration."

. . .yeah, please don't ever show him the "Saw" films.

Havik ➤ An absolute menace. He laughs every time they try and scare him and sometimes he screams back just to see if he can spook them too. Most of the time he does because he not only screams, but tears off his limbs to terrify them even more.

"Earthrealmers are scared so easily." He chuckles in the most villain way possible.

Loves it because all he can hear are the screams of people and the decorations were pure chaos. Although he is a little upset that they aren't real. Why can't you just use real human corpses and skeletons? They're easy to get. . . to him at least.

Syzoth ➤ He was always very aware of his surroundings so don't blame him if he's a bit defensive the entire time. You had to reassure him that they wouldn't actually attack him and even if did understand, he'd still remained cautious. Even so, the maze did manage to spook him several times. Eventually, he eased into the concept of the holiday and began to enjoy himself. It was also a perfect place for him to be in his natural form, everyone complimenting him on his "costume". It made the zaterran happy as he gazed at the decorations in curiosity and awe.

╰┈➤ masterlist

[littleredwolf]

The Sleepover

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 1,740

Summary: Bucky and Y/N have been dating for a while but he is yet to spend the night at her place. After breaking down barriers and allowing himself to drop his guard, Bucky soon decides it’s finally time to take the next step. 

Warnings: Mentions of Bucky’s PTSD/recovery 

A/N: This was inspired by the scene in TFATWS that shows Bucky waking up on his apartment floor. It’s such a visceral moment that sheds light on just how much trauma he carries with him, and I wanted to bring some lightness to that in the form of Y/N. Long story short, I just wanted our favourite super soldier to receive the comfort he so desperately needs and deserves.

--

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the unmistakable roar of Bucky’s motorcycle pulling up outside, and you launched yourself off the couch to greet him. The two of you had been dating for a little over four months now but tonight was the first time he was staying over and you were practically vibrating with excitement. 

You had met a year ago when you’d been paired together on a scouting mission in Bucharest, spending an intensive four weeks trailing a suspected arms dealer. After spending the better half of a month shacked up together in a dingy apartment, it was inevitable you'd open up to one another eventually. After months of skirting around your feelings and your friends encouraging you both to speak up, the two of you had eventually plucked up the courage to confess your feelings and the rest, as the saying goes, was history. 

Bucky had been a true gentleman from the very beginning and had confessed early on that he'd wanted to take things slow - it had been a long time since he'd courted a woman and thanks to his coloured past he'd all but given up on the prospect of love, so the concept of a relationship was one he still sometimes struggled to get his head around. 

You understood completely and had made every effort not to overwhelm him. You were fully aware of his trauma and the suffering he'd endured and endeavoured to provide him with a calm, safe space that allowed him to let his guard down in a way he was comfortable with.

Over the last few months he'd gotten much better with touch and now it was at a point where he practically craved it. Whether he was holding your hand, laying his head in your lap while you watched TV or wrapping his arms around you from behind while you were cooking dinner, Bucky loved touch and would always find an excuse to be near you or touching you in some way. You were more than happy to indulge his needs and fussed over him at every opportunity, joking that he was like an overgrown puppy when it came to affection.

You could have cried with how sweet he’d been when he’d kissed you for the first time - he was so careful as he’d tenderly pressed his lips to yours, as though expecting to break you, and in that moment it had dawned on you that he probably wasn’t used to being so gentle towards another human being. 

It was so fulfilling witnessing this once broken man rebuilding and flourishing in his new life, and you felt truly honoured that he wanted you to be a part of it. 

At the sound of a knock at the door your excitement grew to an almost immeasurable amount, and you took a moment to gather yourself before answering. 

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d gone to bed alone after spending an evening with Bucky, aching for him to be beside you, and although you understood and respected his reasons for not staying you couldn’t help the sting of loneliness that crawled in whenever he left at the end of an evening.

The sight of him standing in your doorway with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder was one you’d never dared to believe you’d witness, yet here he was, casually leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to answer the door. 

“Hey Buck,” you grinned, stepping forward to greet him with a kiss which he eagerly welcomed. Wrapping his arms around you, he guided you backwards into your apartment, dropping his bag and kicking the door to a close behind him. You were breathless when he pulled away, staring up at him in awe.  

“Wow, that was…just, wow,” you marvelled, completely lost for words. 

“I could hear your heartbeat so I thought I’d ease some of your nerves,” he smirked, and your cheeks reddened at his confession. 

“Dammit Barnes, I told you not to use your super hearing on me. What if I was in the bathroom!?”

“You think I haven’t heard you pee before?” His laughter - one of your favourite sounds - echoed around the room as you shot him a horrified glare, and he quickly pulled you into his embrace to ease your embarrassment. 

“I’m reconsidering this sleepover already,” you grumbled into his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist, breathing in his leathery scent. He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. 

“Come on doll, why don't you show me where I’ll be sleeping.”

You immediately perked up at his words - which you suspected was his plan - and with a grin you grabbed his bag and led him to the bedroom to unpack.

–

The evening passed like any other - you cooked dinner, played some board games, and ended the night cuddled up on the couch with a movie - but instead of falling asleep in Bucky's arms like you usually did, you felt wide awake. 

Bucky switched off the TV as you began to tidy away your empty glasses and snacks, and an awkward silence hovered over the room as you both pondered how to navigate the rest of the evening. 

"So, sweetheart…what do you usually do at this point?" Bucky broke the silence as he came to lean against the counter beside you.    

"Well, usually, once you've left I go to bed," you replied, realising that the suggestion of going to bed may be misinterpreted and quickly adding, "but we don't have to do that yet if you're not tired." 

Bucky's hand came to rest on your arm and you looked up to find him smiling reassuringly. 

"It's okay, doll. I'm happy to go to bed," he murmured, trailing his hand down to entwine his fingers with yours and leading you to your room. 

You were already in your pyjamas so you slipped straight under the covers while Bucky walked round to the other side of the bed and began undressing down to his boxers. You couldn't resist a sneaky peek while his back was turned, and as soon as you gave in to your temptation you regretted it immediately - Bucky's chiselled body was truly a sight to behold and one you were sad to have to tear your eyes away from. 

"Would you like me to strike a pose?" Your boyfriend's playful voice broke your train of thought and you snapped your eyes to his, finding him smirking at you with his hands on his hips. 

You'd been caught red handed, and red faced! Your cheeks were blazing and you pulled the covers up to hide your face as Bucky crawled in next to you. The embarrassment quickly dissolved once he was laying next to you, your mind suddenly too preoccupied to care, and you turned to face him with a grin. 

"You're here," you said gleefully, melting into his open arms. 

"I'm here," he echoed, his smile mirroring yours.

With a tender kiss he pulled you closer, tucking you under his chin in a firm but gentle embrace, and soon you found the tendrils of slumber pulling you into the sleepy abyss. 

– 

A few hours later you were awoken by a cold breeze at your back, and you reached your hand out in the darkness, heart sinking when an empty bed greeted you. 

Had Bucky left? Had he changed his mind about spending the night? Had you imagined the whole thing? 

Your thoughts teetered on a downward spiral as you sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, but your insecurity quickly turned to confusion when you looked to your side and found that not only was Bucky missing from your bed, but his pillow was too. 

Eyebrows knitting together, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up to try and solve the mystery, but you didn't get very far before your foot bumped into something solid. 

Bucky. 

The super soldier sat bolt upright at your touch, wide eyes staring straight ahead, and for a moment you feared he'd forgotten where he was altogether. He soon came to his senses, however, shaking off any remnants of sleep and looking up at you with a sheepish expression. 

"I, uh…sometimes find it hard to sleep," he offered, fidgeting with the blanket he must have grabbed from the couch. "Sorry, I'm still kinda getting used to the idea of a comfortable bed." 

He chuckled dryly and your chest tightened at his doleful expression - here was this brave, strong man who had been through hell, and he was apologising!? 

That just would not do. 

"Oh, Buck," you cooed, sinking to your knees in front of him and holding his face in your hands. "You don't need to apologise for anything." 

His eyes met yours and you hoped he could see the love and sincerity in them. The guards he worked so hard to keep up slipped just a tiny bit, and he gave you a tearful smile as he rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. Kissing the top of his head, you turned and reached up to grab your pillow off the bed, setting it on the floor beside his before reaching back again for the covers. 

"You don't have to do this, doll. You won't be comfortable," he protested once he realised you were intending to join him, but you simply waved a hand to quiet him.

"We're in this together now baby," you softly reassured, adjusting the blanket so it covered the both of you. "I'm right here with you every step of the way." 

You kissed him deeply and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down with him as he laid back on the hardwood floor. By no means was it comfortable and you knew in the morning your back would be aching, but none of that mattered while you were at Bucky's side. 

He'd been fighting his demons for so long, and he'd likely be fighting them for a long time to come, but there was no way you were going to let him continue fighting them alone. 

Tucked tightly into Bucky's side, your head on his chest and the sound of his heart beating in your ears, you fell back to sleep with surprising ease, and neither you, nor Bucky, woke again until morning.