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jobean12-blog · 4 years ago

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hello my love!!! I wondered if I could request something sexy and fun!! I was thinking of reader and Bucky being in a new relationship, they haven't had sex yet and he invites her to sleep over at the compound one night. Reader has like a boob sore so she can't wear a bra and sleeps in her tank top. morning after, Bucky wakes up first and sees her boob has fallen out of her top, he was trying to remain a gentleman but after seeing that he wants her? Hehe i love you and thank you for everything❤️

Morning Glory

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,412

Summary: Spending the night at Bucky’s for the first time has you very excited and a morning surprise really moves the relationship along...

Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting this love! I had fun writing it and hope it makes you happy! This is real life and happens to me all the time, even when I wear those CK bralette thingies. Never fails. Now if Bucky was in my bed....well. haha! Love you! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: sweet fluff, light teasing and flirting, lots of kissing, Steve and Sam being themselves, implied sexy times :)

Standing in your apartment you stare at your empty overnight bag, cursing your indecision. Bucky invited you to spend the night at his place, aka the Avengers compound, and you have no idea what to pack to wear for the night or bedtime or the next morning! You don’t normally sleep in a bra and you don’t want to just because you’re staying at his place. Rifling through your pajama drawer you find a cute blue tank top with matching boy shorts, deciding it works fine and will be comfy.

Stuffing it in the bag you search around for your toiletries, double checking you have everything you need before leaving. Bucky meets you outside and greets you with a searing kiss. It takes you a moment to catch your breath afterwards and you’re wondering how you’ll be able to control yourself when you share a bed tonight.

Bucky has been a gentleman from the moment you met and ever since you first starting dating, which wasn’t too long ago. It’s the first time you’ll be spending the whole night together and you’re feeling both excited and nervous. Of course, as soon as you’re in his presence you feel completely comfortable and happy.

The early part of your evening is spent cooking dinner together, Bucky suggesting you try to make a pizza. “Bucky, I’m not sure I can do the whole throw the dough in the air thing,” you say, staring down at the yeasty mixture. “Me neither but I’m gonna give it a try!” You giggle and step back watching as Bucky tries to pick up the sticky dough.

Once he has it in his hands, he gives you an apprehensive look before saying, “here goes nothin’!” He tries to throw it but fails when he doesn’t put enough force behind it. “Ok, here we really go,” he laughs. Bending his knees, he releases the dough. It flies just above his head, hovering for a split second before landing back on his hands and ripping.

Bucky stands in shocked silence and your hand flies over your mouth to stifle your laughter. He finally looks your way, his lips turning up into a smirk, “something you find funny, doll?” You can’t hold back any longer, bursting into a fit of giggles and pointing at him. “Oh my gosh, you should see your face!”

Bucky tries to wipe off his hands as best he can before he stalks over to you, caging you against the island with his arms. Your breath hitches at the closeness of his body and your hands instinctively reach out to smooth down his chest. “I wish I got that on camera,” you say, continuing to tease him, “and I think you have some dough in your hair.”

He leans his face close to yours, brushing the hair from your cheek, “hmmmm, I bet you do.” When his mouth meets yours you completely melt against him, a sigh falling from your lips as he parts them with his tongue. Running his thumb across your jaw he cradles your face in his hand, deepening the kiss just as a throat clears loudly behind you.

Bucky hesitantly pulls away, his eyes soft on you but then thunderous when they stare over your shoulder. “Rogers. You better have a good reason for interrupting us.” Steve raises his brows and chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest in a very Captain America way. “Hi y/n. Nice to see you again.” You give Steve a shy wave, “hi Steve, you too.”

“Actually, this time I do. I smelled something burning and figured I should check it out before the compound gets a shower.” Both you and Bucky spin to face the oven, the slight wisps of smoke starting to leak out the sides. “Oh shit,” Bucky shouts, quickly turning the oven off and alerting Friday that they have it under control. “THE COOKIES!” you yell in horror! “I can’t believe we forgot about them!”

Steve laughs first and you and Bucky can’t help but follow suit. “Well, if you didn’t have your tongues down each other throats you might have remembered,” Steve scolds before laughing again and walking off. “Ugh, I’m gonna kick him in his righteous ass,” Bucky mumbles.

Turning to you, he gathers you in his arms and says, “now, where were we,” pressing his lips to yours once again. You gently pull away just to ask, “what about dinner? And more importantly! Dessert!?” His nose scrunches as he smiles wide, “let’s just order a pizza and steal Sam’s Oreos. Yea?” You simply nod, leaning in to kiss him again.

“I heard you two were starting a fire in here!” Sam chimes from the doorway. Bucky groans, grabbing your hand and walking down the hallway without a word. “Hi y/n!” Sam says as he gives you his best smile. “Hey Sam! Good to see you!” you call out just before disappearing around the corner.

Bucky huffs as he shuts the door. “They can be such a pain in the ass sometimes!” You laugh and pull your phone from your pocket. “I’ll order the pizza; you snag the cookies and then we’ll have the rest of the night uninterrupted.” Bucky practically skips out the door when you start dialing for the pizza and only moments later you hear Sam yelling, “where the hell are you going with my Oreos?!?!”

Dinner is perfect and after eating a whole sleeve of Oreos dipped in milk you and Bucky settle in on the couch to watch a movie. Not even halfway through Bucky has you pinned to the couch, his lips devouring yours as his hands wander over your dips and curves. You moan into his mouth and he pulls away, breathing heavily when he speaks. “I want you so badly, but I want to do this the right way, you know.”

You’re barely able to manage the nod of your head, all your brain power gone with his strong body above you and his hands on your skin. You want to tell him you don’t care that you really like him and you’re ready to take the next step. But you don’t want to push him either, so you remain silent. He pulls you into his side, holding you close while you finish the movie.

It’s almost midnight and you stifle a yawn, snuggling closer into Bucky. “You ready for bed, doll?” You smile up at him, “yes, I think so.” You go into the bathroom to wash up and change. When you come out you watch as Bucky takes in your appearance, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes dark. “You’re not making this easy you know.” He plants a sweet kiss to your lips before he goes to change.

You get in bed and burrow under the covers, loving that you’re surrounded by his smell. He gets in soon after, pulling you against his chest and nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’m really glad you’re here baby girl. I love having you in my bed.” Throwing your leg over his you mumble into his chest, “me too, Buck.”

Morning arrives and you slowly wake up, the warmth of Bucky’s body still close as you stretch and yawn. You feel a slight chill at your chest, moving to pull the blanket further up your body but stopping short when you brush bare skin. Cracking open your eyes you look down and to your surprise see that your tank top did little to hold things in place while you were sleeping.

Bucky’s sharp intake of breath catches your attention and you look over to find him staring. “Morning beautiful,” he whispers, licking his lips. “Hi,” you say quietly, smirking at how hot and bothered he looks. “Sorry, I don’t usually wear a bra to sleep.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, he just keeps staring and you can see his internal struggle.

You slowly get up, fixing your shirt and running your hand over the hardness that is evident under his boxers. “Meet me in the shower in 2?” you ask sweetly, lightly brushing your lips to his. He practically falls out of the bed, the sheets tangled around his legs as he stumbles forward. “Fuck yes, doll. I can’t wait.” You saunter to the bathroom, knowing full well half your ass cheek is hanging out of your boy shorts. Bucky’s low growl carries across the room, your smile triumphant just as you turn on the shower.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @buckys-broody-muffin @book-dragon-13 @bugsbucky @bucky-on-my-mind @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @loricameback @jewels2876 @littleredstarfish @littledarlinhavefaithinme @mushyjellybeans @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky

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twokinkybeans · 5 years ago

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Tempio Di Pietro Chapter 3: Isola

A Jar Of Dirt Spin-Off Peter x Tony (x MJ)

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Chapter 3: Isola

Peter bounces along with the elevator music, switching his weight from one foot to the other. He spent a lovely weekend with May, but he can’t wait to feel Tony’s arms wrapped around him again. To come home. The elevator dings and the doors open. Peter swiftly slides out of the elevator and silently continues his little dance through the hallway to Tony’s study. When he’s about to knock on the door, he’s stopped by Tony’s voice.

“So, we’ve got the grapes for the patio- yes. Yeah, that’s lovely.” Peter frowns. Grapes? Patio? He can sense Tony pacing around the room, as he usually does when he’s making an important phone call. “As for the orchard… Any suggestions?” Peter sucks at his teeth. This doesn’t sound like a very science-y phone call. Grapes, patios, orchards? What does Tony need an orchard for? “How about pomegranates?” An unfamiliar voice says. “Perfect!” Tony exclaims, his voice muffled through the door. “Oh, by the way, I saw the pictures of how construction is progressing and I gotta say, I’m impressed.”

Okay, that’s it. Peter wants to know what’s going on. He doesn’t knock and barges in. “Heyyy!” He says loudly. Tony whips around, his eyes blown wide in a panic and he wildly flails his arm to have F.R.I.D.A.Y. get rid of some files Tony had opened and projected in the room. Peter couldn’t see what the files were about. All he saw was a rectangular… Floor plan? “You’re here!” Tony yelps, nearly tripping over his own feet. He makes his way to Peter and quickly says: “Marcello, I’ll call you back later.” “Alr-” Tony waves again to end the call, cutting off the man named Marcello. “Peter, hey,” Tony mumbles as he takes Peter’s hands in his to press a kiss on his palms. “What was all that about?” Tony sniffs once, and he both hates and loves the look on Peter’s face. There’s a glimmer in his eyes. Curiosity. Peter’s a nosy boy, indeed. “Nothing.” “Nothing?” Tony shakes his head and dramatically closes his mouth, pressing his lips inwards. “Mh-mh!” “Ah, come on, Mr. Stark, you always tell me about your projects, please, pretty, pretty please?” “No, kid, this one’s a secret. For now.” Tony playfully cocks one eyebrow and Peter’s eyes go wide.

“Argh, you know I’m bad with surprises,” Peter whines, tugging at Tony’s hands so he can kiss his in return. Tony just grins. “But, I’m not.” Peter scoffs a laugh. “No- you are too!” “I am not!” Tony leans in to press a kiss on Peter’s nose and the boy pulls back, flustered. “T-Tony!” The man smiles, his tongue poking out slightly through his toothy smile. “Okay, okay,” Tony rests their hands on top of his arc reactor and cocks his head. “It’s for your birthday, alright? So no more questions. Please?” Peter stares up into Tony’s warm brown eyes and huffs while shaking his head. There’s a tingle in his chest. Whatever Tony is planning, it’s big. “Fine- fine.” Tony grins triumphantly and pulls Peter in to push his face into the boy’s hair. “Good boy.”

Peter can’t help himself. The praise immediately has him wrap his arms around Tony as he slowly sinks to his knees. Tony’s hands still rest in his hair and the boy looks up expectantly, nuzzling his face into the man’s crotch slightly, waiting for permission to pull Tony’s pants down and ravage the man with his mouth. “Would you like me to make you some dinner?” Tony’s words are soft and they have Peter blink in confusion. The man’s made him dinner while Peter’s on his knees more often than not since they discovered the puppy play together- but the phrasing. It’s not the same. It’s not cooing, or degrading, or humiliating. It’s… Sweet. Genuinely sweet. Peter shakes his head slowly. He’s already had dinner. And he’s yearning for dessert. “May made meatloaf.” Tony pulls a disgusted face. “Oh, man-” the man chuckles. “Let’s get you something sweet then.” Tony’s hands let go of Peter’s hair and the boy is surprised to see Tony slowly sinking to his knees as well. There’s a small smile on the billionaire’s face and he curls his fingers around Peter’s elbows to help him stand up.

Of course, Tony brought out the tiramisu. Ever since their first kink exploration, he kept a container of it in the freezer. They didn’t bother to grab bowls. They just took off the lid, grabbed two spoons and started munching on the sweet dessert in silence, enjoying each other’s presence. Peter’s mind wandered, though. Tony’s been acting off lately. He’s… Softer. Especially in bed. It frustrated Peter slightly. It didn’t matter how bratty he acted, Tony would only pepper him in the gentlest kisses. Peter didn’t really mind; he loves feeling loved. But he can’t help but wonder why his daddy hasn’t thrown him over the side of the counter to fuck him deep and hard, whispering all kinds of filth in Peter’s ears, denying Peter his orgasm until he was certain the boy would break something out of frustration.

Peter eyes the new countertop they had installed three months ago. The week after their spa trip, Peter had crumbled part of it with his clenched fist when he came. His dick twitches at the mere memory. He wants to break it again. Maybe he should. Turn Tony on by making him spend his money on him. Peter glances at Tony, who’s still very much occupied with the tiramisu between them, and licks his lips. Is Tony playing some sort of game with him? How far does he want Peter to take it? What does Peter have to do to be pushed on all fours and be spanked until he sees stars? He sniffs once, conjuring up a plan. A plan that involves a certain collar.

“Wait here,” he whispers mischievously as he jumps off the barstool. He quickly makes his way to the bedroom, grinning at the obviously confused stare Tony sends after him. Oh, the man has no idea what he’s in for. Peter is going to make Tony want him so bad the man simply won’t be able to hold back anymore. He rummages through the nightstand a bit louder than necessary to make sure Tony hears what he’s doing. He smiles as he grabs the collar and slips it around his throat. The cool leather is so familiar and grounding the second it touches his skin. He buckles it up tightly and moans at pressure sending a thrill down his spine.

When he walks back into the living room, Tony’s eyes widen at the sight. Peter can hear how Tony’s heartbeat picks up and grins as the man grips his spoon tighter - the tiramisu long forgotten. “Peter…” Tony’s voice trails off. “What-” “Use me, daddy,” Peter mumbles seductively as he wraps his arms around Tony’s waist, nuzzling his face against Tony’s neck. “ Please. ” Tony gently presses his lips onto Peter’s playful curls and Peter lets out a frustrated groan. That’s it. He doesn’t know what got into his boyfriend lately but he’s done with the sugarcoating. Peter resolutely takes Tony’s hand into his own and brings it up to his neck, making him hook his fingers through the metal ring in front. Peter looks up at the man with his big brown puppy eyes. The exact gaze Tony won’t be able to resist. “Pull it.”

Peter gulps when Tony hesitantly obeys. Obeys. Oh, God. Peter suddenly realizes exactly what’s going on. Tony didn’t pull the collar to claim Peter as his little puppy. He pulled the collar because Peter told him to. Tony is just as submissive as he is. Fuck. It’s evident in Tony’s eyes that he knows that Peter figured it out and he casts his eyes down. “Pete, I-” Peter cuts him off by bridging the gap between them to kiss him. He won’t let Tony apologize for feeling like a sub. God. If only he’d told him… Peter knows why he didn’t, though. They’ve tried. Multiple times. Peter can’t dom at home. He wishes he could, but it just doesn’t work. He won’t be able to change that now. But maybe…

“Tony,” he whimpers and deepens their kiss, dragging his tongue across the slightly parted lips passionately. Tony’s breathy moan goes straight to his cock. “-tug on my hair.” Peter gasps out loud when Tony obliges right away, his fingers curling around Peter’s strands expertly. The tight grip has Peter’s hips buck, he’s yearning for a touch. Friction. Warmth. Tony takes the reaction as an invite to scoop Peter into his arms and carry him to their bedroom. His lips never leave him. Kissing his mouth, his cheek, his jaw as they walk. Once they reach their bed, Tony lowers him onto the soft, silky sheets. Crawling on top right away, sucking Peter’s bottom lip into his mouth. Peter can’t stop the embarrassingly high-pitched moan from escaping his throat at the feeling. A hot surge of arousal rushes down his spine. The soft suckling feels so good, so filthy and innocent at the same time. Tony moves his kiss down towards Peter’s neck, gasping and licking and grazing his teeth past the sensitive skin as he does so.

“So gorgeous,” Tony growls, devouring him. Peter’s hands lower down to grip onto Tony’s hips tightly to drag the man flush against his body, gasping as the man’s weight presses down on his cock. He rolls his hips up in a desperate attempt to chase the friction. “Oh, Peter, fuck, you’re so hard,” Tony chokes out and sucks Peter’s skin into his mouth so forcefully that Peter simply knows he’s marking him up with a lovebite. The soft, tickling sting feels so good. So fucking good. “Hmmmm ‘m so horny!” Peter exclaims and at this point, he doesn’t even care about his neediness. Doesn’t care he’s grinding into his boyfriend full force. Tony’s just as needy, they’re in this together. Peter has seen Tony lose it so often, but he’s not sure if he’s ever seen him this desperate before and it turns him on beyond limits.

“Tony, please, make me f-feel it! Be rough with me.” Peter orders him and Tony’s filthy moan rings in his ears. Tony’s hands move up and his fingers curl around Peter’s neck, pressing into his soft flesh just right. “This okay, Pete?” “Mh-mh! Very okay,” he gasps, “little more.” “Oh, yes baby, you like that uh? When I force you down like that?” Peter cries out in surprise when Tony actually listens to his pleas. His eyes flutter shut as the pressure on his neck intensifies. Little sparks of pleasure course through him with each soft thrum in his jugulars. He ruts against Tony’s leg harder and faster, his breaths raspy and erratic in Tony’s hold. “I-I do!” His lips part in a silent cry when Tony shifts his weight just a little, causing their clothed dicks to rub against each other. Actually feeling just how incredibly hard his lover is sends him into yet another pleasure-induced growl. “Fuck, I wanna feel you. Need to get our pants off.”

Tony doesn’t waste another second. His free hand creeps down their bodies and hastily tries to shove both their pants down without letting go of Peter’s throat. He curses under his breath when it doesn’t quite work out, his impatience clearly shining through. Peter wants to feel Tony. Closer. Harder. Now. “Fuck, Tony pl-please,” he pleads and the man lets out a noise of dissatisfaction as he has to let go of Peter’s neck after all. It gets the job done, though, and soon enough, their pants are discarded somewhere on the floor. They don’t even bother with the rest of their clothes. Feeling Tony’s cock hard and throbbing against his own with only the thin layer of their underwear in between is more than enough for Peter to see stars. The touch is so intimate. So passionate. His hands slide up under Tony’s shirt only to drag his hands down, clawing at Tony’s skin. He can’t stop rutting into his boyfriend. “Oh, Pete, I-” “Yes, give me what I want, daddy!” Peter pants needily and the words, the name, have Tony collapse on top of Peter, only fuelling the man’s white-hot arousal. “Yeah, baby, gonna take care of ya.” Tony’s hips rolling down. Both their hips meet perfectly harmoniously with each thrust, guiding each other further and further towards the inevitable high. “Pete, ‘m so close!” “M-me too!” “Call me that again,” Tony grunts. “Show daddy what a needy little puppy you are.” “Yes, yes I am, daddy!” Peter gasps as Tony tugs on the collar again. He fucking loves this. Loves how neither of them is entirely in charge, and yet they lash their wildest imagination at one another. It’s highly indulgent and fuck, when Tony speaks again Peter knows it’s mere seconds away now. “Humping me like a good boy, so obscenely filthy,” the man spits at him and Peter nods furiously, the praise, the humiliation, enveloping him like a warm fuzzy blanket in his mind. “Such a fucking needy thing.” “L-Look who’s talking! You’re so obedient Tony it’s pa-” Tony doesn’t let him finish that sentence as he crashes his lips down. He’s at a loss for words when he feels yet another surge rushing through his body. Peter reaches up though, tangling his fingers in Tony’s hair harshly to hold him right where he’s at. He knows Tony won’t be able to make even the slightest movement if he wants to. They’re not even actually fucking and yet his entire body burns with desire.

Tony sucks Peter’s bottom lip into his mouth, groaning at the slight tug on his hair. His hips rut into Peter’s uncontrollably. He’s almost ashamed to admit how incredibly turned on he is. How the pleasure just builds and builds and builds. He’s so close. So close to coming in his fucking underwear like a hormonal teen and the thought alone makes him lose it even more. Never did he think he could ever feel like this again, but Peter- God, Peter makes him feel all the things he never thought he would. He loves him. He’s gorgeous, writhing underneath him. The needy sounds that he makes, ring in Tony’s ears like an echo. Like his favorite song on replay. He never grows tired of hearing Peter’s pleasure. “Daddy loves you,” he chokes out, “-so much. You’re perfect. Fuck, so hot. So good. So good for me.” “I love you too, daddy, aah! ” Peter whimpers as Tony tugs on his collar again. “I want you to come for me. Come all over your sweet puppy. Make a mess. Ruin me.”

Ruin me.

Tony couldn’t stop the hot surge from rushing down. Couldn’t stop himself from tipping over the edge. “Oh, amore, C-Cupido!” Tony cries out, his panting turning into uncontrolled grunts as he rocks his hips forward again. And again. He feels the wet, sticky patch in his underwear, but strangely enough, it only adds to riding out his high. He’s so out of it, breath stocking high in his throat as he can’t stop rutting into the boy. The sight must’ve tipped Peter over the edge too, Tony growls as he hears the boy’s whimpers, feeling how his hips buck wildly - nearly overstimulating Tony in the process - until he completely stills. His entire body slumping down into their now sweat-soaked sheets. Only then, Tony realizes what he just called his boyfriend and his eyes widen in sheer shock. Oh no. “Pe-” “My sweet slave aren’t you,” Peter breathes and Tony groans. A soft “yes” leaves his mouth as he too finally relaxes on top of his lover. His skin tingles with pleasure and satisfaction and a set of emotions he can’t quite place yet. He nuzzles into the crook of Peter’s neck as he catches his breath. He can feel Peter’s chest rise and fall rapidly too. “That was…” He starts and Peter huffs. “Intense?” “Yeah.”

Peter shifts slightly, rolling both of them on their sides to cradle Tony into his embrace. He moves one of his hands up. Gently dragging his fingers through Tony’s hair, his tips gently massaging his scalp in the process. Tony lets out a satisfied noise and Peter smiles. They’ve never experienced this before. Subbing - or switching maybe - at the same time. It might not have been what they’d been looking for but it was highly satisfying in a way too. Tony’s sweet, gentle touches as of late made a lot more sense now. The man simply feels more submissive. Peter wonders… “Do you want to go to the spa again, Tony?” Peter doesn’t miss Tony’s little shaky inhale. Yet, the man’s answer surprises him a little. “No… No. I’m good. I just needed this.”

A little later Tony’s snores fill his ears and Peter sighs happily, staring at the ceiling. One hand flush on Tony’s back, the other playing with the ring of his collar. The soft clanking sound grounds him. He wonders why Tony has been so submissive lately. Of course, there’s no need for an explanation, but it just doesn’t make sense. Tony’s never that submissive outside of Italy. Occasionally, maybe. Not this long. Not this intensely. Not this many days in a row. Peter thinks about the little encounter they had earlier in Tony’s study. Patio. Orchard. It does sound a bit Italian. Whatever Tony’s planning for Peter’s birthday; could it be the source of his submission? He drops his head to the side, staring at the contours of the man’s face and smiles.

He’ll find out soon enough. One month. One more month.

The day before Peter’s birthday was spent with the people Peter cared about most. He played video games with Ned for most of the afternoon. MJ would’ve joined them if she hadn’t left for her summer vacation with her parents a week earlier. “They pay, so I go,” she said. Peter had laughed at that, calling her out for being a broke college student to which she replied with a snarky remark about Peter being a sugar baby. MJ and her parents went to the south of Switzerland and rented a camper. They always went on vacations like that. Just book the flight and the camper and then see where they end up along the way. It seemed so freeing to Peter, but also incredibly terrifying. He couldn’t imagine going on an unplanned vacation...

When Ned had left with a slightly lousy excuse as to why he couldn’t meet up with Peter on his actual birthday- leading Peter to think that yes, Tony was actually up to something- Aunt May showed up. They had a lovely evening, cooking with the three of them and enjoying their meals. May was awfully giddy. She kept sneaking glances at Tony that Peter couldn’t quite place. Tony was really up to something. And everyone seemed to know about it. Everyone but Peter. Before she left, May gave Peter her gift: an album of pictures she recently found in her closet. It was filled with pictures of Peter with not just her and uncle Ben, but also of his parents. May told him to keep whichever he liked, but the young man couldn’t quite take the gift. He promised May he’d make copies and give her back the originals, which had both older adults chuckle. Peter’s too selfless to take any gifts with a lot of value. Be it monetary or emotional value. He’d rather spend time with the people he cares about. That’s what matters to him most.

Now, Tony and Peter are splayed on the couch. The TV plays The Empire Strikes Back, but they both stopped watching about ten minutes ago. Peter’s fast asleep on Tony’s chest and the man is completely entranced by the boy’s peaceful expression. Tony plays with the brown curls and can’t help himself when he softly hums their Italian song. He’s so ready to reveal his surprise to Peter. In the background, Han Solo pushes forward to passionately kiss Leia. He’s pulled back by the guards. “I love you,” Leia declares. Solo’s expression remains unmoved as he sinks into the floor, on his way to become frozen in carbonite. Tony absentmindedly mouths along with Han’s famous words as he keeps staring at Peter’s face. “I know.”

Tony eyes the digital clock on the wall and decides it’s time to wake up his boyfriend. It’s only a few minutes before midnight. A few minutes before Peter’s birthday. Tony’s thumb traces down Peter’s face, following the lines of his jaw and back up over his nose. Tony knows that tickles him and as expected, Peter shifts slightly, scrunching his face. He gently raises his arm to grab Tony’s hand. Instead of pushing it away, Peter holds it against his lips and tries to continue to sleep. “Pete?” Tony chuckles softly. Peter’s more interested in snoozing than actually replying, so Tony curls his foot, causing him to poke into Peter’s side. The boy jolts and giggles but ultimately doesn’t fight back. He just relaxes again, but he does reply, now. “Mm?” “What would you like for your birthday?” Tony smiles down at Peter’s soft features, his eyes are still closed and he takes in a breath through his nose. “Nothing, Tony, you’re all I need.” The sentence has Tony’s heart warm, but it’s not exactly what he’s going for. “Okay, but if I could give you anything?” “You can give me anything,” Peter speaks softly, his voice muffled against Tony’s fingers that he still holds against his mouth. He presses a kiss on the man’s knuckles and smiles slightly, only to relax again. “True, but what would you ask for- if I’m not one of the picks?” “Sleep,” Peter sighs. “Kid, please, indulge me for a second.” “Hm…” Peter frowns slightly, trying to think of a good answer. What would he want? What would he ask for, right this moment? “Mm-Italy.”

A smile creeps onto Tony’s face and he bites his lip. Yes. This is even better than he could’ve hoped for. “You wanna go to Italy?” Peter only nods in reply, eyes still shut and Tony glances at the digital clock again. At the exact moment, it jumps from 23:59 to 00:00. It’s officially Peter’s birthday now. “Well, then. Let’s go.” Peter’s eyes open wide and he jolts to sit upright. He stares at Tony in disbelief and the man uses his head to gesture at the clock. When Peter processes what time it is, he looks back at Tony, who already stood up. “Wait, Tony- Now?” Peter asks, his eyes round. Tony holds out his hand for Peter to take. The billionaire grins wide. “Now.” Peter takes Tony’s hand and gets up. Tony pulls him close and presses a tender kiss on Peter’s lips. “Happy birthday, Peter.”

Within two hours, they are packed up and at the airport. Not that there was much to pack. Tony told Peter to grab everything but clothes. Peter didn’t argue, knowing Tony had a plan, but still. Going on an unplanned vacation without anything to wear felt a little off. Tony’s private jet was already waiting for them and it had Peter a little suspicious. Then again, he knows Tony was up to something, so he figures it’s probably better to just let it all wash over him. They’re going to Italy. And shit, Peter’s excited. He’s never been this thrilled about it. Not even necessarily for the power switch, as lovely as that is too, but just… Italy. Just Tony and Peter and nobody else. No work, no responsibilities, no obligations. Just them.

“I can’t believe you arranged this so quickly!” Peter jumps four steps at the same time up the stairs to the jet. “Have you called the spa yet? How long are we going? Oh-!” Peter swivels and turns back to Tony. “Did you bring the hourglass?” Tony’s eye twitches at the last question. As does his dick. He walks up to Peter, who waits for him at the top and gives him a wide, closed-mouth smile. His hand rests on Peter’s lower back and he gently urges the boy into the airplane. “I think we should focus on sleeping for now,” he says with a nod. They enter the plane and Peter still bounces. He quickly greets the pilots and staff and shuffles after Tony. He drops himself into the chair opposite the billionaire and shakes his head. He can’t quite wrap his head around this yet. “I’m too excited, Mr. Stark, I don’t think I’m getting any sleep tonight!”

Peter was out within half an hour after take-off. He didn’t even bother to put back his seat. Tony stares at his boyfriend’s peaceful face much like he did before and his mind wanders. Of course, he’s thought about what Peter might think of the gift before. He’s given it a lot of thought, actually. He was always convinced Peter would be at a loss for words at first. He’d say he could never take a gift like this- which is what he answers to any gift no matter how big or small. Well, an entire island is a bit of a step up. But with Tony’s reassurance, he’d take it. And hopefully, he’d also take his role as Cupido. Now, however, Tony’s nerves are steering in the opposite direction. His previous excitement turns to fear. What if Peter hates it? What if he doesn’t like being Cupido as much as Tony assumes? What if he just did that for Tony? Then an entire island like this would make Peter feel guilty. Forced.

Tony knows it’s stupid. Knows Peter won’t hide or lie about anything like this. Their relationship is steady. Strong. They communicate everything. But still... Now that the staff is doing their job, the pilots are flying the plane and Peter’s asleep, Tony suddenly gets a lot more time to think. Which means he gets a lot more time to overthink. One of the things he’s not particularly good at. He hopes with all his heart that Peter will genuinely like it. With that thought, Tony falls into a dreamless sleep.

Four PM, local time. The sun is still scorching and Peter, who is surprisingly well rested after a night of sleep on an airplane chair, accidentally skips all steps of the stairs and simply jumps down in one go. His Spider powers make him land softly and gracefully. “We’re heeeeere!” He shouts, stretching his arms outward. He makes a turn and stares at Tony with a wide grin. The man is still at the top of the stairs, obviously tired. He cracks his back and groans. Though, when he sees Peter’s eyes, he relaxes and smiles. “Your energy really is neverending, isn’t it?” Tony laughs. Peter grins and runs back up the stairs to meet his boyfriend at the top. His arms wrap around Tony’s body and he pulls the man close. Tony answers by holding Peter’s face in his hands and their foreheads meet. Peter presses a quick kiss on Tony’s lips and smiles.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” he whispers. “Best birthday gift ever.” Tony laughs out loud at that, leaning his head back to cock his head. “We’re not even there yet.” “I know- I know,” Peter chuckles. “It’s just…” He looks up to meet Tony’s loving gaze and presses his lips into another smile. “I love you.” Tony’s heart squeezes in his chest and he pulls Peter in for a tight hug. He kisses the boy on his hair and pets the spot afterward. “I know.” Peter scoffs a laugh. “How romantic, Solo.” He pushes Tony slightly away from him, but the man doesn’t allow it and pulls Peter back in. “Alright- alright. I love you too, Pete,” he sighs. “Love you more than anything in the entire universe.” “More than yourself?” “Especially more than myself,” Tony laughs. “Now, shoo, get in the car, kid.” Tony gently slaps Peter on his ass to urge him down the stairs again. “We got places to be.”

Peter leans his cheek in his palm during the car ride, staring outside as the familiar roads pass them by. At least… “Shouldn’t we have taken a left turn there?” Peter asks with a frown, looking back at the road behind them. “Hm?” Tony replies nonchalantly, looking up from his phone with his eyebrows raised. He takes a glance outside and purses his lips. “No, no, this is good.” He sniffs once. Peter knows that sniff. Tony’s nervous. He’s hiding something. The man looks back down at his phone and scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. Peter can tell Tony’s not reading a single word on that screen. “We’ve both been here before, we both know we should’ve taken a left turn there. Where are we going?” A mischievous spark appears in Tony’s eyes for a split second and Peter’s chest starts burning with anticipation. Oh, God. Something’s going to happen. Something good. “Nah,” Tony denies again while trying and failing to hold back a grin. “We’re going the right way, trust me.” “Okay- but where are we going?” Peter repeats. Tony curls his lips inwards and sneaks a glance at Peter. “Just some place.” Peter groans and grabs the shirt covering Tony’s arm. He shakes it like a whiny child. “Tonyyy- I can’t stand this kind of stuff, you know that!” “I know that.” Peter groans when he figures out he’s never gonna get an answer. And it eats at him. His stomach flips and turns. His nervous excitement is evident in the way he compulsively taps his foot as he looks outside, trying to find any point of recognition. When they go over a hill, Peter gasps as he sees the shore. They’re at… A beach? The car stops right before the sand starts and Tony gives Peter an encouraging smile before getting out of the vehicle. They both take off their shoes to feel the warm sand between their toes.

The driver takes out all the luggage and carries it to a small but luxurious speed boat at the shore. Peter moves to help the man but Tony stops Peter by grabbing his upper arm and pulling him close. “From now on, sweetness,” he whispers in Peter’s ear. “Let yourself be pampered.” Peter stops breathing for a second, feeling his blood pump to his dick. He knows this side of Tony. “Can’t I help and be pampered at the same time?” He challenges, testing the waters even more. Tony smirks and presses a quick peck on Peter’s nose before letting go of the boy’s arm, only to gently take his hand between his fingers and tug. “No,” is all Tony says. Peter lets himself be guided to the speedboat, not breaking eye contact with Tony who keeps looking back. The man helps Peter into the speedboat- not that he needed help, but it’s the gesture that counts- and he hops in himself. Tony is already slipping into his submissive role and Peter smiles. He’s going to love this trip.

“Are you finally gonna tell me where we’re going?” Peter pleads as the driver tosses in the last bag. He makes a small bow and smiles at Tony before moving to push the small boat into the water. It looks rather funny, as he’s wearing a suit, but Peter figures Tony will cover the dry cleaner bills. Tony doesn’t look at Peter as he starts the speedboat with a grin. When they’re fully in the water, Tony slowly increases the boat’s speed and steals a glance at Peter - a near boyish smile on his face as he does so. “Buckle up.”

Peter stares at Tony’s back. The man is steering the speed boat with ease, while Peter lounges on one of the seats. Their hair is thrown in every single direction by the wind, which rumbles against Peter’s ears. A small dot appears in the distance and the boy perks up. “What is that…?” “An island,” Tony replies simply, causing Peter to huff. The man turns to Peter with a bright smile. “Just let it happen, kid. We’re almost there.”

About ten minutes later, they’re on the wooden docks. At first glance, the island seems untouched by humans, but once you take a closer look, you can see that a lot of the vegetation was either neatly placed or very well taken care of. All of it is lush and green, save for a few statues. Peter scoffs softly when he sees a pedestal with an hourglass on it, but he’s quickly distracted by the absolute beauty of everything. It seems like nature has reclaimed most of the marble and sandstone structures on the island. Though… Something about it seems off. Like it wasn’t actually nature that took over, but that the ivy splayed over the bench was put there by someone. Peter sucks at his teeth and takes another glance around, settling his eye on the gigantic temple at the top of the hill, at the highest point of the island. He turns to Tony, who was simply watching Peter taking everything in with a loving look on his face and smiles. “Can we go there?” Tony grins and nods, stepping forward to tangle his and Peter’s fingers together as they start their stroll up the hill.

Peter doesn’t know where to look. There’s so much to see. Baths, pools, smaller temples spread everywhere. And greenery. So much greenery. Flowers and bushes and trees and more flowers. There’s a patio and in the distance… An orchard. Peter’s brain halts for a second. Didn’t Tony…? “We’re almost there, kid, is the hill too steep?” Tony quips at the boy slowing down his pace. “No!” Peter exclaims, picking it back up again and nearly dragging Tony along in his enthusiasm. The man laughs. “I was just thinking,” Peter adds quickly. “About what?” “All of this…” Peter mumbles. “Tony… It’s so beautiful? What even is this place?” Peter looks back and cocks his head, but doesn’t stop walking, still kind of dragging Tony along with him up the hill towards the big Roman temple. “Why are we here?” “Haven’t you caught on yet?” Tony laughs, which makes Peter shake his head. He knows there’s something here, something he’s not quite getting yet. Tony is still acting so mysterious and giddy - and a tad nervous? “There’s a lot going on right now, I don’t really know what to catch onto, to be honest,” he sighs, staring at a large tree, overflowing with bright pink flowers. He didn’t think there could be a place prettier than the spa, but this island right here easily tops it all. “You’ll see,” Tony says quietly. “You’ll see.”

This only makes Peter walk even faster. He hopes that the temple will give him some kind of answer. It’s obviously the centerpiece of this place. Surely it’ll make sense when he gets there. Is this some private spa, maybe? Peter knows how much Tony missed their privacy the last time they were in the country. The older man barely keeps up with Peter’s big strides at this point and he can’t help but scoff a laugh at Peter’s sudden eagerness.

The garden in front of the temple is so breathtakingly beautiful. There’s a large natural pool circled with fern and chaise longues made of dark wood. And there are statues. Everywhere. Peter barely dares to look at them, having seen the sizes of their dicks and how detailed they were. Don’t Roman and Greek statues have small genitalia? Peter isn’t sure anymore, overwhelmed as he is, but he sure as hell doesn’t want Tony to feel uncomfortable by staring at them, so he never takes a glance at the statues’ faces. His eyes are strained on the temple in front of them. Tall and powerful and magnificent. The pillars hold up the structure with ease and it’s a beautiful piece of architecture, with a depiction of Cupido on the tympan as a finishing touch. The tiny detail to their little roleplay world makes Peter smile, but it falters mere seconds later when he sees Cupido’s face. It’s… It’s Peter. That, right there, is Peter depicted on top of the building.

Peter’s heartbeat thumps loudly in his ears when everything suddenly falls into place. It all makes sense. Tony’s secrecy. The phone calls. The construction drawings Peter has snuck glances at. Tony’s growing submission to Peter at home and… Peter’s heart seems to stop when he spots the name plaque at the front door of the temple. All of this… The island, the abundance of hourglasses he’s spotted on the way up, the statues, the temple… It’s his. It’s Peter’s. Cupido’s.

Peter is frozen in place, staring at the plaque when Tony curls his fingers around Peter’s shoulders and leaning over him from the back, lips close to the boy’s ears. “I hope you like it,” the man says softly, a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Happy birthday, amore mio.” The boy sucks in a deep, shaky breath as his eyes flick across the letters on the plaque over and over and over, still not believing that this is real. But it is. The answer to all of Peter’s questions is right there in front of him. This is Cupido’s temple. His temple.

“Tempio Di Pietro.”

---

More: Next Chapter (yet to be posted) Masterpost

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razorblade180 · 5 years ago

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Lasting Embers pt13: Training Day

[Emerald Forest]

*crackling sparks appear as a boy in a pink hoodie and and green cargo pants passes through*

Tenzen:*bouncing off trees at blurring speeds, twisting and flipping off branches to propel forward until he lands in a clearing*

*Giant Ursa with a chess piece around his neck screams*

Tenzen:Guess you’re my next target! How mom put that on you I’ll never know. *dashes forward and aggressively side kicks the beast in the stomach*

Ursa:*stares down at him angrily*

Tenzen:Wait for it......

*ursa swells up and explodes*

Tenzen:*catches the chess piece and puts in his pocket with similar pieces* Okay.... now I need a rook, king, and finally a queen. Where am I gonna- *growling heard*

*a pack of beowluves surrounds him, An alpha looms in the back with a rook on his neck*

Tenzen:A rook being defended huh? I guess that essentially makes you guys pawns then; that must suck. Let’s see....I count eight of you.

*a beowulf lunges at him from behind, a swift crushing blow to the skull ends it’s life*

Tenzen:*twirling metal tonfas in each hand* Make that seven pawns.... *two more jump at him*

*leaps and kicks off both of them sending him flying into a third one. Flips over it and slams it into tree; the right tonfa smashed into its chest*

Tenzen:Six.....*vanishes*

*alpha knocked into the air by a kick from below. The chess piece flying into the air*

Tenzen:What? You thought I wasn’t gonna make it to; you have a sorry excuse for a pack.

*five beowulves rush to protect their leader*

Tenzen:At least they’re loyal...*slams left tonfa into the ground. A wave of aura knocks them to the sky*

*Bounces off every single one and catches the rook. Analyzing the beasts now below him*

Tenzen:Welp it’s been fun *connects tonfas, locking into place and both ends open up revealing a hollow chamber with bazooka rounds inside* fun for me anyway.....*fires an electrically charged round*

*five of the grimm and the Alpha vaporized instantly*

Tenzen:*lands on the charred ground* That was fun and....wait a second. Eight pawns, I smashed one in the head, caved another ones chest in, blew up five.... *looking at his fingers* that’s seven. Where is pawn number ei-

*a gaping wide jaw filled with teeth comes flying at him from his left*

Tenzen:There it is *a shockwave pushes it back. Aura overflowing like a geyser out the young boy; orange hair going pink and pink eyes going orange* I guess you still want to-

*grimm dead on impact*

Tenzen:*turns back to normal* Woops! Guess I don’t know my own strength hehe. Oh well, guess I should find the knight and queen. *climbs a tree for a vantage point* hmmmm huh?

*giant nevermore flying with something shiny on it’s neck*

Tenzen:......Mom you’re killing me. Let’s see, how did she say this worked again? *aura kicks himself high in the sky and throws bazooka over his shoulder*

*boom*

*tenzen flying across the sky*

Tenzen:Woohoo!!!! Yeah!!!!!!! *propells himself with another aura kick*

*Nevermore notices him and shoots feathers*

Tenzen:Thanks for the help! *runs up the spines of each feather closing distance* Hi!!!!

*Nevermore tries to eat him, but mouth gets lodged open by the weapon*

Tenzen:How about we don’t do that alright? *snateches of knight chess piece and swiftly flips on its head with his weapon intact*

*nevermore freaking out, flailing left in right*

Tenzen:Woah! Calm down? I’m just scanning the area for- *sees Nora in the distance on the launch pad cliff* The queen! *jumps in front of the Nevermore’s face* I hate to be a bother but can you....

*nevermore *shoots feathers at him again*

Tenzen:*rides on top of one* Perfect! Thanks dude.... *weights till the apex of the flight and darts off*

•

Nora:*in a dress similar to Ren’s mom. Rocking it in pink and orange; a lighting emblem on the back of it above a lotus. A timer next to her*

*a gentle wind blows as she sits at the edge of the cliff*

Nora:Hmmm he should be here any minute. *the sound of sparkles getting closer*

Tenzen:*running up the cliff* If I know my mom then this should get wild*

*grenades start flying down the cliff*

Tenzen:Called it! *open palms the space in front of him creating an aura wave that detonates the explosives*

*pink smoke everywhere*

Nora:*peeking of the ledge, a queen chess piece dangling off her neck*

Tenzen:*Shooting upward like a bullet, hand extended* Gotcha, Queen!

Nora:*grabs his wrist and lifts him to her face* Oooooo so close my little ninja, but you gotta do more than- *gasp*

Tenzen:*holding one of her grenades with a smirking* Boom.....*slames it at her feet causing the ledge to break off*

Nora:*free falling* Look at you thinking two steps ahead!? *pulls out her hammer*

Tenzen:*falling after her*You and dad taught me well! *pulls out tonfas*

*Both start clashing in midair. Nora unleashing volleys of smoke filled bombs while her son knocks them away by twirling his right tonfa*

Tenzen:Geez how many of those do you have!? *throws left one, lodging it into her chamber*

Nora:*trigger lodges* Crap...*Swings hammer at his exposed side*

Tenzen:*Slides down her hammer and snatches the piece off* Ha!!!! Looks like I-

*Both crash into the ground hard.......*

Tenzen:*Face down*Ow..........*chess piece falls down*

Nora:*Grabs it* I win. *timer goes off*

Tenzen:What!? I totally had that. *rubbing his face*

Nora:You did for a second. The entrance exam is gonna need more than that from you; especially if you’re trying to go a year sooner than expected. Yujin must be training harder since she’s even younger than you.

Tenzen:I know, *gets up and helps get the dirt off of Nora* We both know I could’ve done this drill way faster though; I was just conserving my strength.

Nora:You could’ve used your semblance in full force on me; I’m your mother but I’m still a huntress with years of experience.

Tenzen:I know that *jazz hands* The one and only Lightning Empress of Anima, Nora Valkyrie. Dangerous huntress and outstanding mother.

Nora:Awwww *hugging him* my little man is so sweet!!! I love you so much!!!!!

Tenzen:*smiling and hugging her back* Not as sweet as dad’s pancakes!

*both start laughing*

[Menagerie Desert Oasis]

Jacquelyn:*shooting ice needles out her hand* You’re getting better at this.

Jael:*gracefully side stepping every one.* We run the same drills every day. Mind if we skip to the serious part?

Jacquelyn:Ha, I was giving you time to warm up but fine with me. *grabs hilt and creates a scythe*

*Rushes at her daughter at full speed*

Jael:Starting with that huh? *shoots her katana in the air and jumps after it to avoid the incoming slice *

*a thin sheet of ice covers the watering hole*

Jael:Mind the fish mom... *kicks her sword down at her*

Jacquelyn:Woah! *tilts her head quickly* Mind my face! *shoots fireballs at her*

*fire balls slowly change course and circle around Jael*

Jael:*twitches her and causes them to merge into on giant one* Surly you knew this was coming. *throws back at her*

Jacquelyn:*conjures water and blasts it*

*steam separating them*

Jacquelyn:(What’s gone be your next move? Retrieve your sword would be too-) *Jael flying right out the steam at her*

Jael:Checkmate....

Jacquelyn:*creating a shield* A little too straight forward don’t you-Agh! *sword rising behind her and slashed her back*

Jael:*Round house kicks her and grabs her sword* made you look.... *rushes at her in a lunge*

Jacquelyn:*Grabs her blade before it finds its mark, sapping her aura* Not bad but you still have a long way to-

Jael:Don’t move....*aim her sheath at her mother’s hand and shoots it to break free*

Jacquelyn:Agh! Son of a- *kicks her full force into the water* ......Oh geez, Jael are you okay? *shaking out her hand* I didn’t mean to lose it like that.

*sword flies into the water*

Jael:*rises from the water and floats above the surface*........you were actually upset just now weren’t you?

Jacquelyn:Don’t shoot my hands! Training or not that shit hurts!!! *covers her mouth* Don’t tell your father I cursed in front of you.

Jael:*shakes her head and smiles a little* How am I fifteen and have more control than you? It doesn’t matter, I’ll probably forget before he ever comes back again. *points her sword at her*

*a single grain of sand rolls to the tip and shoots off*

Jacquelyn:You gotta be less negative *jumps out the way*

*a giant crater forms where she stood*

Jacquelyn:*forms wilted rose* Your dad tries his best to be around; his job is important. *jumps with a overhead swing*

Jael:*knocks her back* Can’t anyone else protect that huntress’s brat? *goes on the offensive and starts with a flurry of slashes* just because she’s missing a parent doesn’t mean she can have mine....

Jacquelyn:*blocking every attack* Be fair, you don’t even really know this girl. Just things you know in a report that you weren’t supposed to read!

Jael:*sword glows purple* I know enough.... *shatters her mother’s construct, breath becomes ragged* She’s a selfish brat who doesn’t count her blessings!

Jacquelyn:.....*starts dodging every semblance charged swing*

Jael:Famous parents *swing* a world to see *slash* friends *thrust* I can’t even go into town without the higher ups looking down on me! *stabs her sword into ground and swings herself forward, kicking Jacquelyn back*

Jacquelyn:*sliding back.....but then forward* Jael you gotta calm down or- *sand and water starts to rise, anything and everything pulling towards Jael*

Jael:*sword sheathed and crouched low, taking the infamous stance her father his known for* Every advantaged given to her while I’m stuck here; not even allowed to acknowledge who my dad is..... Void str- *cough* stri- *coughing heavily* shit.... *drops to her knees, clenching her chest*

*everything stops moving towards her*

Jacquelyn:Jael!!! *rushing towards her* You know you shouldn’t get to worked up. *hands her a bottle of pills* take them.....

Jael:...... *pushes them away* I’m fine...

Jacquelyn:Jael Frost I will shove these down your throat if you don’t. You want me to tell Adam that his daughter his denying treatment that he works so hard to pay for?

Jael:.....*grabs the bottle and takes a pill* I only need one. *slowly unclenching her chest*

Jacquelyn:....Let’s take a break from-

Jael:No...*standing up* keep up the pressure. I can still fight. So let’s keep going.

Jacquelyn:Jael....

Jael:I have to get stronger *pounds the ground* it’s the only way I’m gonna beat his test. *tearing up* It’s the only way I can start trying to make a difference......I want to leave Menagerie; I want to prove them all wrong. *stands up*

Jael:*crying* I’m gonna show the world the name Taurus has more than just spite attached to it! *sniffling*

Jacquelyn:*Starring at her shivering and sad child. Her sword ready to continue for hours it takes*...... Beautiful and strong in a world where you’re barely seen; yet you bloom regardless.

Jael:*wipes her face* please, let me live up to that name.

Jacquelyn:*eyes glow* Promise me you’ll let me know when you need a breather. I have no intention of cutting down the desert rose your father and I hold so dear.

Jael:*calms her breathing and readies herself* Yes ma’am.....

[Jaune’s front yard]

Yang:*slightly sweaty and smiling, still in her PJ’s* You haven’t missed a step; I’m impressed.

Adam:*slightly sweaty* Same here, I think we should both stop here. Even if I still had one eye I could see how this would end in another tie.

Yang:Fine by me; it was a nice workout though.

Adam:Well for me it guess it’s a warm up. *looks by the house* I got a feeling someone wants to show me just how much she’s improved since last time.

Yujin:*swings her sword over her shoulder grinning* Gee what gave it away?

Yang:Knock em dead kiddo *walking to the sidelines *

Jaune:*walking out with cute fruit* Breakfast?

Yang:God I love you. *grabs the bowl*

Ruby:Hey Mr.Taurus

Adam:Ms. Rose; don’t tell me you’re up next after her?

Ruby:Don’t worry, I don’t feel like kicking your butt again. Just worry about the girl in front of you.

Yujin:*beaming with confidence* You ready sensei? (He doesn’t know I have my semblance!)

Adam:Show me what you got squirt. *smirks*

Jaune:Battle of master and student; begin!

#rwby #rwby lasting embers #nora valkryie #lie tenzen #jacquelyn frost #jael frost #adam taurus #yang xiao long #jaune arc #ruby rose #rwby dragonslayer #renora

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steele-city · 6 years ago

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Nightmares: The Evolution

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: PTSD-like scenarios, pretty sure there’s a swear word in here somewhere

Summary: You rise with moon and that means you hear him first. Four times Bucky Barnes has nightmare and four times you comfort him as your relationship evolves.

Author’s Note: So I’ve been on a Buck Barnes kick lately and this is what came out. I’ve never done a Reader piece before and welcome any constructive criticism :) Down for requests too!

It’s almost 3 am and you’re still awake, per usual. You rise with the moon, the silvery silence giving you a peace and focus you can just never seem to achieve during normal waking hours. Working is easy—mission reports flow freely and even Friday’s most temperamental glitches are always fixed long before the sun rises.

Thor had dubbed you ‘moon-child’ last time he was here and you smile at the thought over your cup of freshly brewed lavender tea. Inhaling the relaxing scent, you stare around the silvery blue compound, relishing I the fact you’re the only person awake.

You decide to plan out your day tomorrow before calling it night when you hear a bang coming from somewhere in the sleeping quarters. You set your mug down and quickly make your way towards the sound, guard up. You may be the tech geek, but Cap ensures you know how to spar. The noise seems to be getting louder, which makes you think it must be one of the Avengers. You turn the corner into a hallway and stop dead.

“Barnes?” You call out, confused. “Barnes what in the—”

“No!” He cries, tumbling into the wall. His footing’s gone and he crashes to the floor hands at his head. “No, no, no, no! Please no!”

You’re about to ask what in the world has gotten into the newest Avenger when you choke on the words. Barnes isn’t here. He’s a million miles away from you and the compound; back in a time and place you couldn’t even read all the way through when you hacked his file because it made your throat constrict and your eyes burn.

“Barnes,” you say softly, sinking onto the balls of your feet swallowing the lump in your throat at the sight of the man shaking before you. “Bucky, come back. You’re alright, just come back.”

He’s whimpering now, and you tentatively reach and hand forward. Not for his head, never his head—you had gotten far enough in his file to know that would be idiotic—but hoping he would tolerate a shoulder. Most people can get away with that. “Bucky, please. Be here. Come back.” You’re fingers ghost the clammy skin of his shoulder and he flinches. You immediately press yourself against the opposite wall unsure how he’ll react. “Barnes, are you okay?”

“Y/N?” He shifts into a sitting position, looking at you, then at the surrounding area before curling his legs to his chest, eyes still darting to and frow.

You let out a breath and scoot closer. “Yeah, Barnes. It’s me. It’s Y/N. You’re alright. You’re here now.”

“I’m here?” His eyes have stopped darting and have now locked onto yours. They’re hurt and confused and a million other things that make you want to hug him.

“You’re here.”

“With you?” It’s like you're his lifeline.

“With me.” He lets out a breath and closes his eyes, head resting against the wall. But he’s shaking and stiff and you know it’s not enough. You pause for a moment unsure of how to help. If he were anyone else, you’d touch him. A hand on his knee, his face, his hand, anything to ground him to the now. But it’s Barnes and if there is one thing you’ve noticed about him over the last two months, it’s that subtle flinch whenever anyone touches him.

“Hang tight for a second,” you say, an idea popping into your head. You run to your abandoned mug of tea on the counter. The soft whisps of lavender steam help calm your racing heart as you wander back to the hallway. Crouching what you hope is a acceptable distance away from Bucky, you offer the warm beverage. “Here. It’ll help.”

He eyes the mug for a moment. After deeming it safe he reaches out, a soft clink mingling with his deep breaths as metal hits ceramic. He holds it close, taking in the scent and you can see his should drop ever so slightly. Smiling you sit back against the opposing wall, toes mere inches from his. Not touching. Never touching. Just close enough so he knows he’s more than welcome to share in your silvery solitude.

II. You just finished the ritual 3 am tea and are on your way to your room when you hear it. Ripping, groaning, frenzied movement.

Bucky! You don’t even register that now he’s become Bucky, not Barnes as you run towards his partially open door and into his private space. You can feel something chip off inside you as you see him withering on his bed. The moon bathes him and his torn sheets in silvers and blues, highlighting the way his eyes dart around beneath his lids.

“Bucky,” you call just as softly as the first time this happened over a month ago. “Bucky, come back. Come back to here. Come back to me.” You reach out, and apply gentle pressure to his shoulder. Just like you started doing when he gets back from missions. Gentle so he knows it won't hurt, a little pressure to remind him of the present.

“Come back, Buck.” His eyes snap open, his hand reflexively grabbing your wrist enough to hurt. You grunt at the pain and take an off balance step forward as Bucky bolts upright. He’s a sweaty mess, eyes and head moving so fast around the room that your surprised he’s not making himself dizzy.

“Hey.” It’s quiet but it brings his attention to you. Those haunting blue eyes are piercing right through you as his grip on your wrist slackens. “You’re okay. You’re here.”

“I’m here?”

“You’re here.”

“With you?”

“With me.”

You can feel his fingers, gentle now, run over your wrist. Feeling your pulse, feeling you, making sure he’s where you say he is. His thumb swipes against your arm to the ragged rhythm of his breathing as he tries to reel himself in. The two of you sit in silvery silence, and you focus on the gentle pressure flicking across your wrist. He breaks the silence when his breathing is less ragged.

“Y/N?” His thumb moves deliberate and slow.

“Yeah, Bucky?”

“Do you…do you think I could have more of that tea?”

You smile, flipping your hand to squeeze his.

III. You’re being shaken awake. It’s a weird combination of urgency but soft, vibrating hands.

“Y/N. Y/N, please.”

“Hmmmm…” You blink up, eyes slow and blurry trying to focus the room. Has it even been a REM cycle?

“Y/N.” It’s whispered with urgency.

“Bucky?” His name feels slow and stupid off your tongue but you shake your head, trying to bring yourself to full consciousness. He needs you.

“Please. Please. I…” You look up and your words are lost in your throat. He looks absolutely feral in the moonlight; wild hair, tangled clothes, ice blue eyes desperate for something, anything to ground him safely in your room and not a Hydra compound of years past. He’s heartbreakingly beautiful.

“You’re alright,” you say, sitting up in your bed. The covers pool around your waist as you lean towards him. Gentle pressure on his shoulder.

“I’m here?” His metal hand covers yours.

“You’re here.”

“With you?”

“With me.”

He surprises you then, sitting on your bed and pulling your hand to his face. Pain is written in his features as he closes his eyes, strong jaw nuzzling against your hand.

“They’ll never leave,” he rasps. “Not after escaping, not after meds, not after Wakanda. Those stupid fuckers will always be in my head. HE will always be in my head.”

You can feel your insides twist at his words; you wished you could be more, do more so you bring your other hand up to rest on his free cheek, scooching closer. “Maybe they won’t. And that’s okay. Because we’re here. We’ll never let you fall, Buck. I’ll catch you. I promise.”

He draws in a ragged breath and then his forehead is pressed against yours. It’s wildly intimate in a way you’ve never been with him, or anyone before: rubbed raw. “You’re here.”

You slam your eyes shut. “I’m here.”

“With me.” His nose brushes yours.

“With you.”

IV. Bucky is dead to the world just shy of midnight and you can’t help but laugh. You knew there was no way he was gunna make it through another Harry Potter movie the second he had laid down with his feet in your lap. You’ll taunt him for it tomorrow. But for you, the night is young and your favorite boy wizard is about to get into some shenanigans. So you continue on with the movie sneaking glances at the sleeping soldier. Ever since that fateful night you woke him up and gave him tea, you noticed a shift. The way he always takes the seat by you, the way he looks at you when he wants physical reassurance, the way he loudly wakes you up in the morning if it looks like you’ll sleep through noon, the way he shares his memories about his mother, his siblings, Steve. Sometime after that night you had sacrificed your lavender tea, Bucky Barnes wiggled his way into your heart. And honestly, you are all right with it.

Sirius Black just escaped on Buckbeak when you feel it. His feet twitch against you leg and a soft whine escapes his lips. The face that looked so peaceful only moments before is creased with fear.

“Bucky,” you call, grabbing his foot and shaking it lightly. “Bucky, wake up!” But he doesn’t wake. His whines only get louder.

You’re up from the couch in a flash, reaching for his shoulder with your hand. “Bucky! Bucky, come back! Please, wake up.” Bucky doesn’t respond to your light shoulder prod, so you grab a little harder, shake him a little more, trying to break him from the horrifying trance. “Bucky, please. Come back to me. Come back.”

You flinch when he sits up with a cry, still whining, breathing hard as his eyes dart around the room unseeing.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” His head is in his hands and shaking like a leaf.

“Hey,” you say softly, kneeling down in front of him. “It’s okay. Bucky, you’re safe. I’m here; right here.”

He doesn’t look up as he reaches for you. Flesh and metal grab your shoulders roughly pulling you to him. You instinctually open your arms, wrapping them tight around his shoulders, his hands finding their way to your waist. You’re unprepared when he pulls you closer still. You topple onto him, bent knees falling on either side of his waist, a warm and cool hand scrunching your ribbed tank top. The pricks of his beard and the steam from his uneven breath scald your skin as he buries his face into your chest.

“Shhhh,” you soothe, gently winding the fingers of your left hand into his hair. The right tries not to death grip his shoulder as moistness you know isn’t sweat seeps into your skin. “I’m here, Bucky. I’m right here. Stay with me. Stay here with me.”

You’re not sure how long you’re pretzel-ed on the couch with him but you don’t move. You ignore the tingling in your legs instead twirling his hair around your fingers and placing soft lips against his head. He’s calmer now; the vice of his arms slackened but you still don’t move. Not until he does.

It’s another few minutes until he breaks the silence.

“I’m here.” It’s not a question this time.

“You’re here.”

“With you.”

“With me.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #avengers #steele writes

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dtkrippene · 7 years ago

Text

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Imagine that’s me huddled in the rocks beneath an infinite sky with a story I’ve written cupped in my palms. Do I release it like a dove to the big wide world, or not. There’s no easy answer for a pantser writer like me.

It all starts well, but somewhere in the process I always get lost by straying from the story arc in search of a new trail. As a friend cautioned, I’m susceptible to the antics of the antihero, Captain Tangent, defined by Yogi Berra’s famous quip, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

I am the master of the side journey and story scenes that entice me toward a glimmer of light on a dark trail with promises of enhancing the story arc, only to lead to a dead end. I write with a story mindset easily seduced by a maze of infinite paths, unable to see the pitfalls around the next corner. You need to be more disciplined, make notes, follow a plan,” literary superheroes tell me. I do make notes. I just – tend not to use them much. Why is that, Captain Tangent? My story telling imagination is a twisted spaghetti junction of chaos. It’s where all the fun is, where the best story elements lie, waiting for me to grab on while riding a hundred-mile-per-hour carnival ride.

It’s hard to describe what I go through in words. How ironic is that? I like visuals you can sense, and I’ll turn to the amazing photography of talented artists from Unsplash.com to help me.

**********

Like most writers, I get a story spark from an ocean of ideas, and nurture it to the seedling of a first chapter. It sprouts robust and green in the dung ball I planted it.

Kristopher Roller via Unsplash.com

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I have a sense for how I want the story to conclude. It’s that subtle glimmer on a distant mountain in the dead of winter, of which I must return the story back to the shores of where the spark arose and result in the sunset of a good ending.

Asoggetti via Unsplash.com

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A little studying to research best conditions for the seedling to grow, followed by rifling through the card catalog of genres to repot it in – science fiction (soft or hard), dystopian, alternate universe, contemporary or fantasy. Who decides where it fits? So many choices, just write the damned thing.

Sanwal Deen via Unsplash.com

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What must sprout first in the story’s first chapters? Characters of course. Some writers claim to have a clear visual of the protagonist, some prefer to obscure individual traits and leave it to the reader to decide. Me? Physical traits tend to change as I write, and often remain a featureless manikin until it’s decided how to dress it.

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Voice. I’ve learned the hard way how important it is for setting the tone. Important characters with a voice thinner than a sheet of paper will result in boring drivel.

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Will my characters navigate the journey within the noise of many?

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Annie Sprat via Unsplash.com

Or walk alone?

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Do one last setting check, like a director framing a movie.

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Okay. I’ve got a handle on the beginning and the end. My plotter superheroes staple notes to my forehead. Hey McFly, take the straight and narrow road. Use the bridges. And for God’s sake, don’t go off again on those hairpin roads to nowhere.” They want me to turn off the GPS in my head knowing all too well it rarely works in remote terrain.

Adrian via Unsplash.com

Leonard Von Bibra via Unsplash.com

Think I’m ready now. The trail is clearly marked, and though it’s a little foggy and the path covered in leaves, I’m ready to take the first step.

Derrick Cooper via Unsplash.com

Clem Onojeghuo via Unsplash.com

Chapter one. It was a dark and stormy night … read to the sounds of a phonograph needle scraping across a vinyl record. Yeah, I know, don’t start with the weather. Just checking to see if my ADD medication has kicked in yet. Oh, and no waking up from a dream either.

Jeremy Bishop via Unsplash.com

How about this for a start.

‘Historical archives painted a somber scene of the few humans still surviving before extraterrestrials showed up like benevolent gods to save us from ourselves. Not like humankind had a choice. Do as our alien saviors suggested, or they would leave with all their advanced technology and return the planet to the state they found it in, and oh-by-the-way, will the last human standing, please turn off the lights.’

Enter the protagonist, the human who will guide us in the tale, resolving from the mist of my imagination.

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‘Though I cemented my reputation as class gadfly with poly-metal-ceramic fiber, twenty-four hours from now, I will still join others in my age group, newly minted adult females in our so-called Utopian Matriarchy. We don’t fail these things. But gee whiz, Behr, think you could have spared Aunt Victoria major embarrassment? To dump fuel on a burning shuttlecraft, Aunt Vic is going to kill me when she learns I accidentally dropped off the balcony, a dress she selected for the Presentation Day Ball.’

Four chapters written, the path looks clear ahead. I need a reality check. Did each chapter hook ’em, and did I leave ’em hanging at chapter end?

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Ten chapters now completed, and it’s time to check the basics before continuing.

Showing versus telling – Roger Ground Control, we have a green light on all sensory detectors.

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Finally, the faces have resolved in my head.

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How’s that romance tension coming along?

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Reread last few scenes, check action sequences, and see if there’s any road bumps in the dialogue and narrative. Looking good.

Henry Hustava via Unsplash.com

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Time for a little mirth, give the reader a breather. Send in the clown.

Diana Feil via Unsplash.com

Doing great. I love where the story is going. Oh look, need to make a plot decision to go right or left.

Jens Lelie via Unsplash.com

Pantser check light just came on. Ah – we’re fine. I ignore the warning. Go left.

Wait a minute, where’d these guys come from? They’re blocking the path. Can’t see where I’m headed.

Yuki Eyre via Unsplash.com

Let’s turn around, see if we missed a road sign.

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Okaaaaayyyyyy – this doesn’t feel like the right direction, but maybe it ends up on the highway.

Simon Matzinger via Unsplash.com

Oh, shit. Now what?

Leio Mclaren via Unsplash.com

Hmmmm, I don’t remember this bridge, but hey, looks like a well traveled road. Onward.

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Sure getting dark in here. Maybe I should just go back and rewrite the last few scenes.

Ooh, look, pretty light. Must be the oasis of better story telling. Let’s check it out.

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Uh oh. I can’t believe I went down this tangent. One thing for sure – ain’t going down that hole.

Riccardo Pelati via Unsplash.com

Pantser light just winked off. It must be the battery, or it just gave up on me.

How do I write my way out of this?

Let’s try it this way. Little dark down there, but the cross-bridge looks intact. What could go wrong?

Antonio Ron via Unsplash.com

WTF. Where the hell am I? I should have listened to my friends. What part of ‘don’t go down tangents’ did I not understand?

I’m three-quarters through my word count budget, and I can’t see the horizon.

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Wait. Headlights up ahead. Yeah, always room for a new character. Hey buddy, you know how to get back on the story highway? You can’t get there from here, he says, but if you go back a few miles, look for a weather-beaten sign with “Pantser Exit – Turn Right”, keep going until you see an old billboard with “Carnival of Unfinished Stories — Fun for the Whole Family”. Turn left until you come to it ends in a T. Go right, you can’t miss it.

Son of a bitch. I turned right at the T like he told me. Was that bastard just messing with me? Now what? Flashlight of ideas is about to go out, and the story is colder than glacial ice.

Jonatan Pie via Unsplash.com

I give up. It was such a great story idea. Why do I always do this? Write 20K words, trash fifteen. Rinse, repeat. I can’t do this anymore. I plant my ass in the cave, and stare at nothing. I feel like my characters when they reach the end of their rope – drifting in endless woods of tangent side stories, my feet unable to find the way. Every time I reach out in the darkness, my hands find nothing.

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I sleep on it. Maybe something will pop up in the morning. Daylight arrives, and I get my first good look at the world I’ve created, piled in the cave of discarded tangents of the past. I call one of my writer friends. What’s up dude? He shakes his head when he enters the cave. Whoa, you need to clean this mess up.

I try a little levity to dull the sting. I tell him if I ever get out of this, I need to hang a sign above my desk. “Hi. I’ve lost my mind. I’ve gone to look for it. However, should it get back before I do, please ask it to wait.”

Like a good critique partner, he beckons me toward the cave entrance. I crawl out of the frigid waters of stories gone lost, wet and depressed.

Staring at a story that lost its wings, he reviews a checklist of parts that might get it air worthy.

The strangest thing happens. A shimmer of kaleidoscopic light appears over the wreckage. I say thanks for pulling my ass out of tangent hell, wave goodbye, and follow the inkling of an idea.

Well, I’ll be damned. My feet touch the asphalt of a well-written road several chapters back.

John Towner via Unsplash.com

The road widens beneath a canopy of trees in their autumn cloak when I approach the story’s ending. Why didn’t I see this before. Writing a story is a lot like the seasons. They change depending on the elements, but the tree roots of a plot line remain firmly affixed to the ground in which it sprouted.

Trevor Cole via Unsplash.com

OMG, is that who I think it is? My characters silhouetted by the setting sun, embracing in the end, just as I envisioned when I first started.

I dash toward them, heedless of undulating, ivy of tangent side stories reaching to ensnare me on the last page of the manuscript.

I’ve found it. The end.

The last page written, the little sprout that could, has become a full-grown story.

Johannes Plenio via Unsplash.com

**********

Thus completes my picture book, The Perils of Captain Tangent, a Pantser’s Writing Journey in Pictures. May you never be cursed with an addiction to a malaise known as “Going-off-on-a-tangent.”

**********

All photographs attributed to the individual artist have shared their amazing work free on the website, Unsplash.com. If you need that perfect photo graphic for a blog or article, they give you the right to use it without restrictions. It isn’t required, but a little thank you to the artists when it pops up, goes a long way. And don’t forget to sign up to their email list, so you stay current with the newest submissions.

The Perils of Captain Tangent, a Pantser’s Writing Journey in Pictures Imagine that's me huddled in the rocks beneath an infinite sky with a story I've written cupped in my palms.

#Editing #Pantser #Plotting Stories #Writing #Writing Distractions #Writing Science Fiction

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