#still trying to find the best way to draw him this one is like pointy

[raspberrydraws]

May I offer you a Zoro on this rainy day

[burningcheese-merchant]

I NEED MORE BURNED CHEESE CONTENT, could you please feed this poor hungry soul some burning cheese kids? Imagine the SUPER protective burn during Golden's pregnancy, or, or helping her with the children's dough (and already planning the next children)

The kids will be here soon, I promise :( they're at school right now, Spice and Golden have to go pick them up. It won't be too long. (I have something important to do irl and that takes priority. I'm hoping I have time at the end of this week to sit down and try to draw them. Everything else is ready, their characters sheets are done, got their whole lives on lock lol. All that's missing is to put them on paper. I only have about half a gram of artistic talent so I'll really be pushing myself here... but I want you all to see them really badly, so I'm happy to do it haha)

I don't have to imagine anything, I'm already there with you, buddy :') I hc them as already married by the time the kids come along, and yeah... Spice is SUPER overprotective lol. Very, very gentle and doting, but fiercely protective and downright hostile towards literally everyone else as a consequence of that protectiveness. He won't leave her side unless absolutely necessary, and he'll be snapping at whoever forced him to leave her and then rushing back to her as soon as he can. (She feels kind of claustrophobic at times, because he literally becomes her shadow during those 9 months lol.) But really, he's at her beck and call from beginning to end. She's craving something? He gets it for her. She's sore? Hugs and massages and nice baths. She's tired? He carries her to bed and doesn't allow anyone to bother her for any reason for the whole rest of the day. She can't sleep? He's up with her all night, talking to her and soothing her and doing whatever he can to lull her back to sleep because she needs all the rest she can get. He's Peak Husband during this time lol.

(He's just... beyond happy. I also hc this as being after Spice has redeemed himself and been accepted back into society, but still not having 100% let go of his dark past (which he never truly will, you can never fully forget something like that, unfortunately). So really, he takes this as one of the greatest rewards for his change of heart that he's ever gotten, and as a sign that he really has become better. The day Golden came to him and told him she was pregnant was the best day of his whole, entire life. He fell to his knees and cried when she told him. Not only has he managed to forsake his destructive nature and instead create something, but he's engaged in the most profound act of creation there is: he helped create a life. And he created this precious life with the woman he loves, who helped kickstart his journey to redemption in the first place. It just shows how far he's come, you know? From a cruel tyrant to a beloved king to two peoples... from a bloodthirsty psychopath destined to live and die alone to a much more even-tempered man who has atoned for his sins and learned to be a good friend and person again, as well as became a beloved husband and father... still a force for destruction, but now in a positive way, not a negative one. It's been a very long road, but it really feels like he reached the end, and this victory is sweeter than any he's had before.)

...And same thing if they're cookies, honestly lol. Peak Husband. Burning Sweetheart Cookie here, jumping for joy when Golden tells him she wants a child. He goes hunting for a Witch Oven of his own accord, going to quite literally every corner of the earth until he finds one, then they go to it and he's just like a kid on Christmas Day lol. They're making the batter together and he's just grinning that big, pointy grin he's got, beaming like the sun. How much of his dough should they mix in? How much of hers? What will happen, what sort of child will they create? Golden thinks he's so cute lol. He won't even sit still while the kid is baking in the oven; if he's not pacing back and forth in anticipation, he's picking Golden up and swinging her around and smothering her with kisses, and going on and on and on about how great the kid will be and how they'll be a fine warrior just like him and Golden. He's yanking the oven door open as soon as that timer goes off and they both hear crying... she has to tell him to slow down so they can both take the baby out together (he was so excited that he was just going to do it by himself lol)

TL;DR: The woobification of Burning Spice Cookie on this blog is complete, he is now Burning Sweetheart Cookie, reformed villain who loves his bird wife and their babies with all of his spicy heart

And to feed you a bit of extra content (and to keep everyone on the edge of their seats), I shall feed you a bit of information about the kiddies:

There are two of them, a son and a daughter. The son is the older one by a few years

I did research and took inspiration from both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for their design and some of their personality traits (I will explain this in detail soon. I actually really enjoyed learning about these religions, even if for a ridiculous reason, and I look forward to rambling about all the little bits and pieces of myths I cobbled together to make these two lol)

Each one resembles a parent quite a bit (but I will not specify which child looks like which parent yet)

One of them has wings like Golden Cheese does

Something really bad happens to the son in the future

Here are their soulstone descriptions, because yes, I really did go above and beyond creating these little guys lol

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. It feels warm and light, like a rare, refreshing breeze on a desert morning... But is that a single grain of self-doubt, nestled deep within its core?"

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. Though it burns very hot and bright, and feels difficult to handle at first, the kindness and unyielding strength resonating from within are nevertheless unmistakable."

[msfcatlover]

Shadow Jason (Reverse Robins)

(Jason has... too many costumes, I literally cannot find a single reference page that has even a majority of them, let alone all of them. Massive pain in the ass to research this.)

Jason started out with just Tim's costume (he inherited it on incredibly short notice, so he didn't have time to do any modifications before he first hit the streets in it,) but over time he makes it his own.

Which is like...90% tributes & callbacks to Steph, Jason's personal hero. Jason does keep Tim's predominantly black styling and switches his highlight colors from purple & gold to blue & silver, but the blue is very much a dark indigo (cutting the middle ground between Steph's dark purple & midnight blue, and allowing different artists to draw him either leaning more blue or purple depending on lighting & personal taste.)

(Guess who found an even better bat symbol chart? Anyway, Jason's is the "Batman: Hush" bat symbol, and he trades the ribbon-border for silver stitching. Because Cass is right, the stitched look is badass.)

Jason keeps the black cloak with "purple" (now indigo) lining, but he replaces the gold ribbon trim for a thick silver stitching. He also makes the cloak shorter, hanging just below his knees rather than around his ankles. The trim also now traces the entire hem of the cloak, rather than just the hood.

(Once again, thank you Stephanie Brown Costume History page!)

I will add that though all past Shadow hoods have had a pretty basic silhouette, Jason wanted a droopy-pointy one, because he's a dramatic nerd.

(Basic hood vs Jason's hood)

Jason keeps the headset, but he switches Tim's visor out for glowing goggles in tribute to Steph's original Spoiler costume. He also brings back Steph's full-face mask, if a touch more armored than her original mask probably was.

(Jason's goggles glow white, though.)

Jason's chest piece is a lot less bulletproof vest, instead going for a segmented/borderline laminar piece. Somewhere between Duke's "White Knight" armor & Jason's "Gotham Knights: Eternal" chest armor. The panels are all black, but the base underneath them is indigo.

(Keep in mind that this is pre-growth spurt Jason, so while both of these chest pieces are for pretty bulky dudes, Jason's still on the short & lean side side of things. He's not trying to look bulkier, these are just the best references I could find..)

The sleeves are dark blue & fitted, made of durable slash- & stab-resistant fabric. Jason wears basically his RHatO Robin gloves, but without the weird loops on the sides. The gloves are predominantly black, but the red highlights are now indigo. He also has polished metal caps on his knuckles, echoing Steph's costume & buffing his own punches.

(Once again, it is really really hard to get a good reference shot of these gloves, but I think these 2 pages together give you a pretty good turn-around of them.)

I have not been defining utility belt styles, but whatever the differences between them have been, Jason rolls back to Steph's design. His is black with silver clasps/buckles, for the record.

I do like Jason's big pockets & cargo pants from recent comics, but I think he'd want to take Shadow back to its sleeker look than Tim's padded up & kitted out design. (Jason also doesn't need to carry nearly as much gear himself, since the rest of the family kinda babies him a little, so there's almost always one within shouting distance if he needs them.) I'd say he goes back to the padded leggings, but adds pouches that hang from his belt & strap to his thighs, mimicking both the look of Steph & Dami's thigh armor, and his own big-pockets look in recent comics.

(So imagine if those pockets were actually hanging from his belt the way his holsters are here, with a second strap around the thigh to keep them from bouncing around or getting in the way.)

I actually realized while looking at that Gotham Knights article that I wanted to give Jason the boots/greaves from the "Year One" costume, and while hunting for a better image of them found this awesome piece, which not only gives an excellent view of that leg armor but also actually has fitted pants with thigh-strapped holsters, to give a better idea what that should look like.

(Pants & straps should be black, red armor should be indigo with silver edges, which you even kinda get with the grey backing in this piece. Seriously, huge shout out to Damián Navarro Méndez, though, this design & render both look awesome! I hope they paid you really well for this one, and you didn't have to crunch over it.)

And that wraps up Shadow Jason! Hopefully it's enough of his own style to feel unique from the three other designs I've already done for Shadow, and like something Jason would actually wear. It's still recognizable as a Shadow outfit, and makes it very clear who Jason's primary inspiration was without directly ripping Steph off (or even being too obvious at a glance that he's shouting her out.)

I hope there's also enough echo of Cass & Duke to show that Jason's having to serve as kinda both Moonbeam & Shadow simultaneously; the guiding light & grounding dark to Gotham's Batman. Because Jason (like Tim) doesn't have a partner in this, but (unlike Tim) Jason doesn't have to stand fully alone in his efforts.

Phew! Thanks for sticking with me, folks, but we're done with Shadow now! Now I just have to do... everyone's grown-up designs...

(Don't worry, I'm still having fun and it's not nearly as daunting at it seems at a glance. It's just a lot, and their independent identities are going to be a touch harder since I'm basically starting from scratch—just a stack of references & a half-concept/half-vibe—where the legacy costumes have iterated on eachother, allowing me to start from a base every time I make a new one.)

[spacehostilityy]

NNT Rewatch s2ep7-12 !!

(Still from my drafts! Just moved back to college yesterday and today and classes start tomorrow. Wish me luck! My schedule sucks this year so I'll need it lol)

man this is flying by!! but lucky me, the druids’ holy land arc is one of my favorites

King learning throughout this season that not only does he need the other Sins, but they need and love him is so sweet. I just love the character development they all go thru this season

draw him like one of your french girls ~~

I love that Matrona has purple eyes like Diane, the small details really make it

I actually NEED to know what Monspeet and Meliodas’s relationship was prior to his betrayal. “I can’t believe HE’S the one who sensed us” ?? Whats that about🤨 also zeldris and monspeet seem to have been in good terms, like were they all friends?

I don’t know how its possible, but Monspeet’s voice is even hotter in spanish

I love that despite galand not being able to lie, they still don’t believe his stories lol

KAJSDKWUDFL I forgot how shocked i was with the reveal that Merlin stole Mel’s power i just love the druid training arc sm

theyre so silly i love them

do we know why jenna and zaneri don’t have wings? are they just hidden with magic or something??

okie so apparently they’re just inhabiting human bodies and their real bodies had wings. found this on the wiki, do we know where the info comes from?

WAIT do jenna and zaneri know elizabeth?? Like KNOW her?

HAHAHA this part always destroys me

ngl the best thing seven deadly sins as an narrative does is portray the intense agony and trauma from mel and ellie’s curses

anyway... the fact that Meliodas and Zaratras were of equal rank when they met is kinda funny

the absolute horror on meliodas’s face when he hears liz is just PERFECT

liz is so slay she’s everything i want elizabeth liones to be

King: uhh hey jenna...🥺 what are you planning to have us do in there😓

Jenna: isnt it obvious??? 🤨 rigorous training 😤😤

the way they cut btwn scenes of meliodas abt to lose it and him and liz being happy is just so well done

I love that they were trying to get Meliodas to abandon his emotions to keep his rage in check and then when he actually has no emotions we find out that he’s straight up evil and much, MUCH worse than before lol

the tears pooling on their insanely pointy chins always gets me lol. but also mel just violently sobbing and then suddenly being fine. Mans has serious issues with repression that can def be drawn to his daddy issues

BAN/ZHIVAGO ARC😭😭😭 a few observations: Ban is very clearly influenced by Zhivago’s style, like the clothes are so similar, the fact that they sent Ban to Aberdeen prison and his favorite is Aberdeen ale makes me think he associates it with his dad, Zhivago was hot, Ban mirrors Zhivago’s words to him to Elaine, Zhivago tells Ban to never trust humans and the only humans he ends up trusting are Escanor and Jericho, zhivago has lived in misery about the deaths of his children for almost 40 years :(

idk why this is one of my fave arcs it’s literally just angst lol

gil and howzer as boyfriends. Discuss.

seeing gowther fight hand to hand is actually pretty cool, i had assumed he was weak like king but he can hold his own

how did king not clue in when galand literally opened with “Meliodas its been such a long time” like BABE CMON

BAN TELLING JERICHO SHE’S HIS WALLET 😭😭

meliodas just mocking king for his lack of wings is always funny. nothing like a dick joke to make you feel better after Zhivago’s death

I HAVE to do a meliodas self hatred/relationship to being a demon post, i have so many thots

I LOVE WHEN HE GOES TO SEE THE 10 COMMANDMENTS HES SO BADASS

monspeet shielding Derieri from the rocks with his cape🥺

melascula is so sassy i love her

estarossa is my deranged babygirl i love him. that fucking freak

I JUST KNOW TAIZOO AND THAT LITTLE TWINK ARE FUCKING

taizoo is a bottom.

meliodas somehow has 15 year old rizz. like the fucking blond boys.

(not so) fun fact: Elaine is my mom’s name so its a little weird

nakaba’s size kind seriously needs to be studied

ESCANORRRRRR

okie doke that’s it join us next time !!

[hummingbird-of-light]

I did it!!! I wrote the first part of a story based on the wonderful AU drawings of @simmeons

Don't know when I'll write another part, but let's start with the first one XD

How I met my Vampire (Part 1)

Montgomery Scott let out a deep sigh as he listened to his fellow trainees talk about the bat problem once again. They all acted so tough, but when a wee blood-sucking animal flew through the church, they didn't dare to go near the building.

Though the Scotsman had to admit that it was very strange. He had scared away the beasts at least three times, but everyday - or night in that case - a new bat had appeared.

Well, this time he was ready. He had sworn that he would find out where the bats kept coming from. And he had a plan.

"You're okay, Scotty?"

Scott looked over at the young man who had talked to him.

Leonard McCoy. Everyone who knew the brown-haired tall boy, had expected him to become a doctor just like his parents, but he had chosen the path of a priest.

"Aye, sure," Scotty replied with a shrug.

"Don't believe him, Bones. He's disappointed, because he can't solve the bat problem," another voice teased him.

It was Jim Kirk. The blonde boy was said to be a womanizer - which wasn't exactly the best prerequisite to become a priest - but his stepfather was the head of the church and Jim would follow in his steps.

"Well, at least I try to do something. Ye just don't want yer pretty face to get scratched," Scotty retorted and Leonard snorted at the comment.

"He's right about that. And stop calling me Bones! I'll be a priest, not a doctor!"

"Well, Bones," Jim emphasized the nickname, "my face is too pretty, after all, so I have a good reason. What's yours?"

McCoy rolled his eyes.

"I could give you a list of dozens of infectious diseases these monsters transmit, starting with rabbies. I don't have a death wish."

Scotty chuckled.

"Ye are all exaggerating. It's not that bad. And this time I'll get these bats to leave our church forever so that ye are all safe again."

"Yeah, well... we'll see about that."

Jim got up and clapped Scott on the shoulder.

The Scotsman knew that they didn't believe him, but he would prove it to them! For sure!

~

He was sitting in the warmest part of the cold church and waited for something to happen. His eyes were focused on the ceiling. There had to be a hole somewhere. He let his eyes wander, but couldn't find anything.

Maybe he shouldn't just sit and wait, but do something.

Scotty got up and started to walk through the hallways. He wasn't sure where to start looking.

Maybe inside the church tower? Scotty made his way over to the stairs, but before he could take a step, he heard a strange noise.

Startled, the young Scotsman whirled around.

It had come from the main hall! For sure!

Scotty started to sneak towards the big chancel. Step by step he moved forward and finally glanced around a corner.

What he saw made him stop and stare.

There, in front of the altar, was a person.

The bright fullmoon shone through the colorful windows, but still, Scotty could only make out the shape of a tall, male figure.

Black clothes, dark hair, pale skin.

The man made himself over the offerings, grabbing one piece after the other.

Bread, apples, pears.

Maybe it was a homeless man? Someone who needed the help of the church, but didn't dare to ask for help?

Scotty took another step forward, but when the man moved his head slightly, the Scotsman froze. His eyes widened in shock.

The ears of the man... looked different. They were pointed. But there was something even more shocking to Scott.

As the man took another bite of the bread, Scotty could see sharp white teeth.

His mind started to race.

Pointy ears, pale skin, sharp teeth.

"A vampire."

The hiss had left his mouth before he knew it and suddenly the black-haired man turned around.

Scotty yelped in shock, not knowing what to do.

He'd die! That monster would suck out his blood and kill him!

However, he was wrong. The vampire was apparently startled himself and quickly turned into a bat.

It was the bat Scotty had scared away so many times before! It... had always been the same!

Before Scotty could say or do anything, the bat attacked him. He quickly threw up his arms to defend himself, but when the bat flew away, there were already several wee scratches in the Scotsman's face.

Scotty fell onto his knees, breathing heavily. What the heck had happened just now?!

[mathemagiks]

To what extent does their appearance in game match your vision of them creatively? Are there things you wish you could change about them in this regard? Or possibly do, if you knew of a way to do so...

I did my best to try and get close when making all of the beans as alts in-game, but honestly if I had my druthers, all of their in-game models would have so many little tweaks and adjustments to match how I see them (especially since I'm awful at getting mods to work and they give me more headaches than I find worth wrestling with them for).

I got a little wordy in this and scrounged my travel laptop for some old doodles and pictures, so this is going under a cut for length.

For Ehn, I tend to picture him much lankier than the miqo'te in game; he's long limbed and gangly, and still gets mistaken for a teenager at a distance. He cuts no real imposing figure physically! I also tend to draw his ponytail a little scruffier, and the side-hair thingies longer in homage to his namesake. Kinda like this:

Orrin is pretty much accurate, but did you know that in character creator there's no option for actual red red as a hair color option? I managed to get the idea across with how highlights play with is particular hairstyle, but it still bugs me in certain lights how it still looks... well, pink.

Band... By now I've sort of resigned myself to her just having that horn style, but if I had my way, she'd have had the wing-like horns when I made her (I tried making the face they're linked to work, but it just didn't give that sharp, stern look that I felt was key to the Banadei Experience TM). If SE ever disconnects the horns from the faces, you bet I'm finding an in-character way to change them for her. But for now, pointy horns she keeps. Beyond that, she's a lot less.... curvy, I guess, from the raen models. Still feminine at a glance, but just more... average looking I guess? There's a word for this but it escapes me right now. I also like to think her scales have more of a coppery flash than the in-game gold one for Raen, and her limbal rings are more metallic than they are glow-y. She also has much bigger scale patches on her arms and legs than the dainty ones the in-game model has, as well as a large patch between her shoulders and down her sides (like the male models have. As to why the girls don't get them too I have no idea).

Not many differences on Scrap, really, besides him being kinda scrawny for a lalafell. The most I tend to deviate when I doodle him is more in the clothes than the rest of his features, namely his collar and sleeves and drawing his hat a little smaller but tbh that's just me thinking it looks better that way in my particular art style. (He's on the right in this picture, natch)

Uroko is, like, the one bean I made in CC first before building the character behind him so honestly, he's spot on as far as things go. Like Band, though, I picture him with more scales on his arms, legs, and torso than the in-game model gives him, but less "bigger patches" and more like the large patches being flanked by spots of smaller patches, like dappled sunlight.

[titanicfreija]

"So unrelated to everything else, I learned how to do wood-burning."

Sunny deliberately flickered at her guardian to express her question.

"Okay, well, you told me to find an art I liked. Sort of. You said find a thing to do and then suggested sculpting, anyway, and so I went to Thomas, 'cos he's the arty one, and I told him what you wanted for me and he took me down to the City, and he showed me these marketplaces where people who do the art shit all sell their things, and-- I didn't realize there were so many kinds of... Things, stuff you could do."

"Mediums," Sunny said, wishing she liked this conversation more. "Anything can be a medium."

~

"Yeah! And how you use it as one. But, Thomas took me around and... I don't like being all awe-striking most of the time, but everyone was real excited to let a guardian try their stuff, even before I paid them. I tried sculpting, and you were right, I liked it and found it natural, but it reminded me of my hammers and grenades, and I knew you didn't mean for that to be what I did with it."

Sunny chirped, but didn't say anything, so Freija continued.

"So we went to just about everything that looked interesting. There's a whole corner for the Eliksni. A weaver, two scrap-sculptors and one who dances out front when I went. Space for more. Crowd was thinner over there, so I made sure to stay longer, watch the dancer and weaver for a while. The weaver-- Eliksni and their manual dexterity. Got a scarf, you can just look yourself later.

"And I did try the scrap, and the dancer tried to teach but I don't have enough arms, and those were kinda important.

"And I tried painting, and I tried sculpting, like I said, I tried like six other ways of making pictures. Pencils, stencils, pastel... Stuff, there were like three things with that word about it. I did not try singing, we know I have fun but do not do well, and I have no intention of fixing that.

"I did try a couple of instruments. The bow-using string ones were my favorite, but I was best with a horn. Liked the drums but was constantly worried I was going to break them. Strum strings were my least favorite. The breath-- ah, I remember, the wind instruments were good but surprisingly hard sometimes? I remember coming away wondering about the ways people come up with to make noises. Lots of them had regional histories, but so many were alike, even from hot places."

Sunny glanced at Freija and felt her light flicker again. "Would you like to do that again?"

"Huh?"

"Go into the city? See... Normal? Mortal? Living people?"

"You're sounding more and more like me. I know what you mean. Non-guardians. I hadn't thought about it."

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah."

"Then why not do it again?"

Freija shrugged.

"We can visit the City again. Artist alley and all."

Freija seemed puzzled at the idea, for some reason. "Sounds good," she agreed. "Oh, but, so, we got to this one with wood-burning, which wasn't what it sounded like, but was still really neat. And I wanted to try it, but I ended up doing it my way. Which is basically finger painting with heat, but using different parts of my hands, and using Light. I drew my sun, first, and your flower on your main shell, cos that oblong shape is easy with my little finger, and I turned that into a drawing... Etching? of you. I could never draw your winter lotus, that wonky line of your petals and pointy end threw me off, but burning the shape with my fingers and fingernails worked really well. Singed a Hareball shell right next to it. Even got different shades of char going to look like the color transition. I'll show you when we get home."

Sunny chirped again.

"I kept a plank to practice on. Thomas thought it was funny. He asked if I'd use my hammer. I tried for my face after that, but the only feature I got right was my tattoo. Do you like doing art stuff? Have you ever tried?"

"I doodle with my shell points and I dance," she murmured. She hadn't done either in a very long time. Maybe since Freija.

"I've seen you dance sometimes, there's been music and you'll do that little throb bounce with your pieces, but I'm pretty sure that's not what you mean. How do you doodle with your shell?"

This definitely didn't happen since before Freija. "I would find flat or smooth places and impress on them, like in sand or dust. Murals of things I'd seen, mostly animals eating or hunting."

"Wanna do it again? We can get a tray for sand or paint or ink or something. And I know I don't dance and I remark on the moving all the time, but you wouldn't be you without it and I'd love to see you dance."

Sunny hadn't thought of it in a long time, and now understood Freija's confusion around visiting the market again.

"That sounds nice."

[schleckermaul]

—

THE WORLD BECOMES SMALL, in xerxes' arms. there's a body, now, on top of him, and xerxes realizes how much easier it is to see zhilan like this, when it's not just his own hands tracing a path across warm skin. each point where they meet, suddenly so very clear in his mind, even with the additional layer of fabric in between. a pointy elbow bumping him, the bone in zhilan's hip as he moves to settle between his legs, his hands on either side of xerxes' head, dipping the mattress with his weight.

   it's not by a lot. and yet, zhilan feels heavy, in the best way possible, a grounding presence, rather than a caging one. zhilan meets him halfway, allowing him to sink into the mattress entirely, let the pillow catch the back of his head.

   it's strange, to feel so heady, now that he's letting this type of want settle much like zhilan is settling in this new position. xerxes isn't used to that, so maybe that's why it's hard to decide where to put his hands, wandering restlessly, not resolute in their placement. sliding up zhilan's arms, back across his shoulders, over his cheeks. just to make sure the image in his head is accurate, that it hasn't changed too terribly much, now that he's seeing so much more.

   eventually, xerxes frames his jaw, thumb swiping just beneath his earlobe. zhilan's tongue draws a faint line across where his lips meet, and, after a moment of thinking, trying to figure out what he's supposed to do, xerxes merely draws them open, receiving zhilan, letting him do as he's asked, as he pleases, satisfying his own curiosity along the way.

   the first poke is very much tentative, shy, and xerxes can't help the sheepish giggle that escapes him, withdrawing for a moment. blinking up at zhilan, the second attempt goes much smoother. zhilan tastes like ... like something fresh, he concludes, when their tongues slide together slowly, exploring without much hurry. like taking a dip in the ponds by the rainsworth mansion on a summer day, rejuvenating, yet warm. he sighs, and as he does, realizes it's much easier to breathe through his nose.

   it's joyful. with nothing else clouding his mind, xerxes has the space to push where he wants, to find things out he'd normally deny himself. and zhilan— it's zhilan, that he wants, isn't it? zhilan, that he wants to figure out. a very simple thought. obvious, with their intertwined bodies. and yet, xerxes' breath comes a bit shorter, as he thinks it. hooking one leg over zhilan's, he pushes closer, still, one hand finding leverage in zhilan's hair, pulling the smallest bit.

   to want and to be wanted, with the time and the space to indulge. xerxes draws his tongue over the roof of zhilan's mouth, tilts into it as much as he can, without disturbing the body on top of him.

SOME part of him still anticipates a fall. Zhilan half-expects to plummet in zero gravity, that Xerxes will think twice of all this and pull back because it is too much too fast, like the rides of Golden Ward's amusement park blinking their lights as a whirlwind in the night. To his relief, nothing of the sort happens. The press of their bodies merely remains, warm with the embers of physical touch, and the scholar—curious, seeking—presses himself closer like it's not enough. Xerxes follows where he is guided, meeting his brushings in earnest; Zhilan imagines them gliding across a ballroom floor for a fleeting moment, hand in hand and their steps in sync, as the experience is much the same. But Xerxes surprises him. A dip, maybe, in their dance, its form a tongue at his bottom lip. Zhilan gasps in reflex, fingers twitching in shyness as it briefly wisps into his mouth and he is held by the nape. The hairs there stand on end like static, tingling down the length of his spine. And his hands find purchase on a once-knight's shoulders, fisting light and fidgety with the linen laid over it.

Zhilan would remember to breathe, but the air feels stolen from him. Taken as Xerxes inhales it as his own, their mouths closed over one another's, for him to sharply draw in and feed his mending lungs with. But it feels right to let him have it, so he allows it to him—willingly appeasing his sudden greed, for it is a manner of his own. There's pressure he barely registers on the rear of his neck near the hairline, not until it moves him in full. Twisting them so that Xerxes lies on his back, legs situated on either side of him, Zhilan nestled in between. The flush that washes over his complexion is immediate. His skin is scarlet, his eyes wide as they pull apart and the reason behind the change in position is mumbled to him. Subconsciously, Zhilan holds his weight over him, perching himself up by the palms into the pillow below Xerxes' head, as if not yet sure whether his weight would be suitable for him to bear. ❝ Y-... ❞ He knows his timidity must be felt. It shakes his breathing in short, whispered puffs, heated against the face beneath him. ❝ You're sure...? ❞ Xerxes tells him that he is by chasing his lips again. Zhilan, easily convinced, lets them be caught without protest. So he lowers, gradually, carefully, into the shape under him. And turns his head so their fit is more secure, parting his mouth in invitation. Go on. Experimental and heedful, his tongue ghosts the seam of Xerxes' lip, hardly a touch at all. I'm curious, too.

[fatuismooches]

hi bae,, could i maybe request aftercare with dottore please 🤭<33

♡ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 ♡

synopsis: The best part after making love is the sweet aftercare, is it not? So how does the unconventional doctor treat you afterward?

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Hi bae~ Of course you can! I hope you like these! (Might be a bit OOC, but this is a fluff blog and how I personally perceive Dottore when he's genuinely in love with you. Also includes implied sexual activity but not much - I kept it as SFW as possible!)

Aftercare with this man is an experience for sure. How you managed to get his concrete walls down enough to get in his bedroom is already a mystery to Dottore, and now you want him to… take care of you after it? What? He knows how the human body works during such sexual deeds, but now you’re pouting at him for not partaking in “aftercare.” Confused and slightly annoyed at this because he probably thoroughly studied and analyzed diagrams of the human body which he thought would be enough to satisfy you. Prepare for a long conversation with Dottore trying to refute half of the things you explain. (Albeit complaining, he studies this activity a bit afterwards. Initially wants his clones to take of you. You have to explain to him why you don’t want multiple copies of him wiping you down and bringing you water right after.)

Cuddles can happen in various different ways. At first, Dottore is actually baffled that you want to hold him after the deed. He has other things to attend to - continue his research, new experiments, take notes - and you want to lay on his chest and lovingly draw random shapes on his skin? Disgusting. (Do it again.) Will probably leave you there and tell you to get dressed so you can continue being his assistant. After purposely ignoring him and being persistent, he will eventually begrudgingly give in. Adding in some scientific details (whether they’re real or not) about how helpful aftercare is to both people may help your case.

Surprisingly he is a bit nervous, which is a feeling he hasn’t felt in who knows how long. Yes, you have roped him into cuddling a few times before, but this was different after such an intimate and exposing experience. A part of him is still shocked that you want to hold the body of a man so despicable that he was driven out of two countries - but he has to keep his confident front up so he rolls with it anyway. 

I’m sorry, but you’ll have to be a bit productive during these aftercare cuddles. You’ll be laying on his chest with a clipboard above the two of you, reading out the results and data of the latest experiments while he squints and nods at it. Complicated things would be debated as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. (I can see the two of you play fighting during these informational cuddles. You kick his shin while he bites you because he has cute pointy shark teeth.) An easy way to extend basking in the afterglow is to bring up one of his experiments or ask him a scientific question - he’ll go on and on about it while subconsciously playing with your hair or tracing a finger down your body.

Another hypothetical scenario is that he actually falls asleep after. He tends to go for a long time without sleep and after such a rigorous time he might be out like a light, which provides you with easy cuddling access. I don’t know why but I think Dottore would be interested in studying you during these aftercare periods. Your heartbeat, temperature, how conscious you are - he probably wants to take these multiple times and see if they’re any changes based on what happens during the rather passionate moments. Whether you accept is up to you, you’re probably used to these tendencies by now though. He will still find a way if you decline though.

You might be able to get him to stay by reading a book though. This book will have to have some kind of scientific concepts to it though. (He would point to a diagram of the human body and explain to you where to strike to cause the most pain and knock them out.) It might be painfully boring for you but anything to get him to stay, right? But I think Dottore can read very fast so he will make fun of you for your slow reading. But hey! Still an opportunity to see his gorgeous red eyes, which still have that crazy glint in them but are still noticeably softer when positioned on you. I feel like he might get more possessive than usual after a couple of these. Now when you try to get up and leave, he will forcibly hold you down while he smirks. 

“You’re the one who begged me so persistently and earnestly for this. Now, I won’t let you leave.”

Dottore’s aftercare may be lackluster for now, but it’ll slowly get better and better, just for you <3.

taglist: @heyhazelnut101, @peepopeepopeperoni

[waitimcomingtoo]

Dummy

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is the only one of the Avengers who doesn’t tease you for being a little slow 

Masterlist

Now you weren’t exactly dumb.

You were just a little slow.

When you joined the Avengers last year, the team learned pretty quickly that your mind moved at a different pace than everyone else. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing and it didn’t keep you from doing your job, it just meant you were the butt of most of the jokes. Every time one of your blunders happened, your intelligence would be mocked in some way. You knew it was all in good fun, but it hurt to it feelings every now and then. The only person who never poked fun at you was Peter. And for that reason, he was your favorite on the team.

“How are there 23 minutes left in this movie and I still don’t know any of the characters names?” Steve wondered as you all sat in the couch in Stark Towers, watching a movie on a particularly rainy afternoon.

“I think the main kids name is Phoenix. That’s all I got though.” Sam shook his head, just as confused as Steve.

“The dogs name is Benson.” Bucky mumbled quietly.

“Who names their kid Phoenix?” Peter wondered out loud as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth. The two of you were tucked into the corner of the couch, sharing a blanket and bowl of popcorn. You looked at him like he was crazy when you heard his question.

“Ummm, Joaquin Phoenix’s parents.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You turned your attention back to the movie as a silence settled in the room. You felt everyone’s eyes on you after a minute and looked around to see everyone staring at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“What?” You asked shyly, shrinking down a little in your seat in discomfort.

“That’s his last name.” Sam stated, chuckling a little under his breath. You realized your mistake and felt your face heat up.

“Oh.” You mumbled, your voice getting drowned out as the rest of the Avengers laughed at your expense.

“Did she really just say that?” Nat looked at the group with a playful smile. Everyone, excluding Peter, nodded as their laughter died down.

“Oh my God.” Steve chuckled. “That’s so stupid.”

There was that word again.

He didn’t mean it maliciously. Steve was the kinda of guy who ushered spiders into a magazine so he could let them outside. And yet, it still stung when he said that word.

Stupid.

You smiled sheepishly and tried to focus on the movie, snuggling closer to Peters side until it ended. You were fully aware that he was the only one who didn’t laugh, and you loved him that.

And maybe you loved him for a few other reasons too.

~

“Alright. Who has money for the subway?” Sam asked the group as he patted his empty pockets. You were on another late night trip to get cookies from a specific shop in Times Square, leaving without Tony’s knowledge. Everyones hands went to their pockets and collectively made a face.

“Not me.” Rhodey shrugged.

“I don’t have any.” Bruce added.

“I don’t even have pockets.” Nat realized.

“I have gum.” Peter proudly produced a silver wrapper from his pocket. “Oh wait, it’s just a wrapper.”

“You’re telling me we’re earth’s mightiest heroes and we’re broke?” Sam shook his head is disdain.

“I gave my last dollar to a guy in the subway for playing music.” Peter defended himself.

“What was he playing?” You asked him as you tiredly leaned against his arm.

“A mandolin.” Peter answered, making your face scrunch up.

“That’s a language.” You laughed at him slightly, feeling empowered by having the upper hand. Everyone looked at you and a few of them snorted.

“Mandarin is a language.” Bruce said gently, not wanting to embarrass you further. “Not mandolin.” 

“What?” You blinked in confusion and looked to Peter for answers.

“A mandolin is an instrument, dummy.” Sam chortled. You smiled tightly as the group laughed at your mistake, looking down to hide your blush.

“Oh. Sorry. My bad.” You laughed shyly as you tucked your hair behind your ear and pretending to read a nearby sign.

“That’s okay.” Peter spoke up in your defense. “They sound really similar. Plus like, French, French Horn. Who knows what’s going on?”

“Yeah.” Bucky said softly. “Or like, bra’s aren’t pointy anymore.”

Bruce nodded like it made perfect sense and Sam just shook his head as he texted.

“What?” You whispered to Peter, not knowing what he meant.

“He’s from the 1920s. He’s still adjusting.” Peter whispered to you out of the corner of his mouth before looking at Bucky. “That’s the spirit. Kind of.”

“FRIDAY is sending a car.” Sam informed the group. “This is never happening again. The cookies aren’t that good.”

“They’re pretty good.” Rhodey shrugged, but wanting the late Nate tradition to end. Sam looked at him for a moment before breaking into a smile.

“Hell yeah they are. Let’s do this again tomorrow.”

~

Bruce found you in the lab the next day with a pin between your teeth and a pencil behind your ear. Papers with drawings of suits were scattered around the table as you measured a piece of black fabric.

“What are you doing?” Bruce wondered as he took a seat across from you. You glanced up at him before marking a dot on the fabric.

“Mr. Stark asked me to help him with the new suits. I’m trying to make a fabric template for Nat’s gloves.” You told him as you smoothed the fabric out.

“Is it hard?” He asked, watching you intently as you worked.

“Not really.” You shrugged and took a step back to examine your work. “Okay. How many holes do we need? 1,2,3,4,5.” You counted your fingers. “Okay. Five holes.”

You sat back down and put five dots where her fingers would be to mark where you had to cut. You heard a slight chuckle from Bruce and looked up at him curiously.

“Did you just count your fingers?” He asked slowly, wanting to make sure he saw what he thought he had. “To know how many fingers Nat has?”

Your face burned when you realized how dumb you looked, in front of a scientific genius no less.

“Oh, Uh, yeah.” You stammered, feeling very insecure with him watching you now. You moved slower than before and second guessed moves you’d already made a hundred times. Bruce sensed your discomfort and got out of his seat, tapping the table twice as he thought.

“Have you ever heard the expression “the lights are on but nobody’s home’?” He asked you and you were grateful he changed the subject.

“Yeah, I think I have.” You smiled, proud of yourself for knowing something.

“It reminds me of you.” Bruce said so politely that you didn’t realize it was an insult at first. He left the lab to find Tony, leaving you feeling embarrassed and a little hurt. Everyone knew Bruce could hurt you ten times worse with his words than the Hulk could with his fists, you’d just never been his target before. You slumped down in your seat and continued making the gloves, your mood significantly dampened from before he came in the room.

~

You walked into the kitchen the next morning, sleepily rubbing your eyes. You pressed a chaste kiss on Peters shoulder as you passed him, also more affectionate to your best friend when you were half asleep. You smiled at Rhodey, who was seated at the bar and skimming through a newspaper.

“Did you eat yet?” You asked him through a yawn as you got out yogurt and fruit for yourself.

“No. I needed my coffee first.” He smiled sleepily at you and held up his mug.

“Oh, you mean your sugar with a spoonful of coffee?” You teased him. “Yeah, it’s good you got that out of the way.”

“I prefer it this way. The sugar wakes me up.” Peter defended his drink as he took a sip.

“That’s what the caffeine is supposed to do, mi amor.” You laughed as you ruffled his bed head ridden hair. He was about to make a comeback when his stomach rumbles loudly.

“Someone’s hungry.” You remarked. “Do you want eggs?”

“No thanks.” Peter shook his head. “I can’t eat eggs alone.”

“Well I’m here. And Rhodey’s right there, so you’re not alone.” You told him. “And I can grab Steve and Bucky. They’re just in the other room.”

Rhodey looked up from his newspaper with raised eyebrows and looked at Peter. Peter set his mug down and made a face at Rhodey that told him not to say anything. You looked between the two of them in confusion as you wondered what was going on.

“I meant alone as in without toast, sweetness.” Peter said gently, not wanting you to feel dumb for misunderstanding. “But I am glad you’re here.”

“Oh.” You faked a smile and shrugged like it was no big deal. Peter had handled the situation with ease and you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you normally would. That is until…

“You know, Y/n, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” Rhodey nodded before going back to his newspaper. You froze with your spoonful of yogurt midway to your mouth and looked at him. He didn’t actually call you dumb, but it was implied. You looked at Peter to see if he was thinking the same thing, but his face had nothing but kindness on it.

“You are pretty.” He agreed with Rhodey. “But you’re a lot of other things too.”

You cracked a smile and rubbed his back for a moment in appreciation.

“Thanks Peter.” You said softly and went back to your breakfast. Not wanting to worry him, you ignored the way Rhodey’s comment made you feel and tried to push it from your mind. But no hard you tried to focus on other things, you had one thought prodding at the back of your head.

You were dumb.

~

A week went by without anyone poking fun at your intelligence. You had a sneaking suspicion Peter had something to do with the lack of comments, but you said nothing. It was nice to have a break from all the teasing and it made hanging out with the team more enjoyable. You all lingered around the kitchen one day, eating all different kinds of lunch when Tony came in the room.

“Eat up, funky bunch.” He clapped his hands. “We have a mission in Alaska to train for and I need all hands on deck. Cap, do you think you can teach Peter that spinny thingy you do?”

“I can try.” Steve looked at Peter and nodded.

“Great. I’m getting a manicure. I’ll be back around noon.” Tony informed you all.

“Wait, I thought you said all hands on deck.” You tilted your head at him.

“I did. Which I why I have to make sure my hands look the best.” Tony waved flirtatiously, wiggling his fingers around like a teenage girl. He smirked as his action was met with some eye rolls and a few chuckles before leaving the room.

“I can’t believe we’re going to Alaska.” Peter nudged you excitedly and you smiled with glee.

“Is Alaska the same as the North Pole? Or am I thinking of Antarctica?” Sam wondered out loud.

“No. The North Pole is all the way at the top. Alaska is below California. Like by Texas.” You said confidently, proud that you knew information that someone else didn’t. Your pride quickly dissipated when you saw the teams faces twist in amusement.

“Wait a minute.” Steve looked at you like you were joking. You shrugged, letting him know you weren’t. Sam burst out laughing and clapped his hands as the rest of the team began to laugh.

“Absolutely not.” Sam grinned as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Yes it is.” You insisted. “Look at any US map. It’s on the bottom by Hawaii.”

You were getting angry now. You knew you were right this time and they were still teasing you.

“No.” Bucky shook his head is dismissal. “No.”

“Alaska is below California on every map I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me I’m wrong?” You our your hand on your hip and stared at them.

“100%. I am 100% telling you you’re wrong.” Sam said between his laughter. Peter came to your side and showed you a picture of a map on his phone.

“Alaska is US territory but it’s not connected to the rest of the states. They just put it below California on maps to show it’s a part of the US. Thats not actually where it’s located.” He said quietly. You looked at the map for a few seconds before you realized he was right. And if he was right…

You were wrong.

“Oh.” You smiled apologetically and averted your eyes. “Oops.”

You turned around and pretending to clean up the kitchen to hide your searing blush. Your fingers clenched around your sponge when you heard the teasing laughter from behind you.

“Sometimes I wonder how you made it out of high school.” Steve joked as he threw out the crusts of his sandwich. The comment stung you and you began to scrub the counter faster so you could leave the room sooner. Peter could see your shoulders tense and put a reassuring hand on your back. You gave him a tight lipped smiled before putting your dish in the sink.

“I’m still wondering how she made it out of first grade.” Nat teased you and she poked your side.

“I can’t believe she made it out of the womb in the first place with nobody telling her where to go.” Sam said, making everyone laugh loudly. You abruptly threw a dish in the sink, making everyone go silent. You tuned around slowly and faked a smile.

“Haha. Yeah.” You forced a laugh. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

You swiftly left the room before anyone could catch your tears. You felt stupid for even getting upset over it, but their words hurt. Feeling like you were always the dumbest person in the room was taking a toll on you, especially when you weren’t the only one who felt that way. Peter watched you leave with sympathetic eyes, feeling his own frustration bubble at the sound of the team laughing at you. He thought they had listened the first time he told them to stop making fun of you, but they clearly hadn’t. After seeing the pained look on your face, Peter made a decision.

It was never going to happen again.

~

“Ugh. I’m never gonna get this right.” Peter groaned as he messed up the move Steve was trying to teach him once again.

“You’re getting too much inside your head. Just let it happen naturally.” Steve instructed as he resumed his stance. Peter tried the move again, wiping out and landing on his side with a thud. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you spared with Nat.

“I can’t.” Peter got up and rubbed his arm. “I can’t do it.”

Steve nodded, like he was accepting Peters defeat. You stopped sparing and looked at Peter.

“Yes you can. Come on, Peter.” You encouraged him. “Everyone told Van Gogh that he couldn’t be an artist because he only had one ear but he did it anyway.”

The room feel silent, as it often did when you spoke, and everyone looked down.

“Oh dear Lord.” Rhodey sighed and hung his head and he snickered. You could see everyone else fighting back laughter or cracking a smile, yet saying nothing.

“What?” You crossed your arms in annoyance, looming to Peter for help.

“He chopped his ear off after becoming an artist.” Peter said kindly. “He wasn’t born without one.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Tony beat you to it.

“Speaking of ears, do you think of you shone a light in one of Y/n’s ears, it would come out the other ear?” Tony quipped, making everyone laugh. The tips of your ears burned as that feeling of stupidity sunk in again. You undid the Velcro on your boxing gloves and pretended to wipe sweat from your face as you rushed to the bin where the gloves went. You kept your back to the group and pretending to be putting your gloves away when you were really concealing your pained expression.

“Yes.” Nat jeered. “Yes I do.”

Your shoulders slumped with exhaustion as you turned around, making every effort to keep your face neutral. Your face didn’t give away any signs of sadness, but your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the bin gave your true feelings away. Peter noticed this and felt his jaw clench. If you weren’t gonna tell them to stop, he was.

“Leave her alone, guys.” He commanded the crowd before looking at you. “Thanks for the encouragement, Y/n. I’m gonna keep trying.”

“It’s fine.” You nodded curtly. “I’m gonna hit the showers. I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

You walked out of the gym, pausing in place when you heard Sams voice.

“Hit the showers?” He laughed. “We just started.”

“Shhh. Don’t confuse the poor girl any further.” Bruce joked back. You looked back at the gym with your eyebrows knit together, taking a quiet step closer to hear what they were saying about you without you there.

“She’s probably like, ‘whats this magic closet that makes rain?’” Rhodey imitated your voice, making you sound as dense as possible.

“Knock it off guys. It’s not funny.” Peter snapped, but the teasing continued.

“Or like, ‘this shampoo says it adds volume, but I used it and I can’t hear any louder than before’.” Tony mocked you, skipping around a little like a child. Your face contorted in misery as they made fun of you. You knew who they really were, and they were good people. They didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, they were only joking around like they did with everyone. Steve was teased all the time for his old fashioned dialect and no one lets Tony live down the kimono incident. Still, all their insults and mockery cut you like a knife.

“Ahh, I love that girl.” Nat shook her head with a smile. “She’s so dumb.”

“She may be slow, but she’s entertaining as hell.” Sam nodded in agreement.

“I said knock it off.” Peter repeated, getting a reaction this time.

“Aw. Peters mad because we’re teasing his girlfriend.” Nat pouted and pinched Peters cheek. She quickly realized how wholesome she was being and punched Bucky in the face to maintain her lethal assassin persona.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter grumbled. Now that you were out of the room, he was the next target.

“He’s right. Hey, maybe that’s why you guys haven’t gotten together yet.” Rhodey shrugged. “She’s too stupid to realize you’re in love with her.”

That was all you had to hear. You ran towards your with tears running down your face. Thanks to Peters advanced heating, he heard every heavy footstep.

“Okay. Maybe she is a little slow.” Peter shook his head in disdain at the team. “But you guys are idiots.”

~

You were quiet the entire way to Alaska, keeping to yourself and silently looking out the window. Peter attempted to talk to you once or twice, but he could tell you wanted to be alone. The Avengers completed the mission within a few hours with minor damage to the area. Peter focused on his job but found himself looking for you every now and then, being as you usually stayed together during missions. He didn’t see you anywhere and assumed you were doing your own thing on the other side of the field. He heart rest assured when he saw you boarding the jet, still looking reserved and aloof from the rest of the team. You took a seat by the window and rested your chin on your hand, looking out at the bleak landscape in front of you as the jet took off. Peter didn’t engage in small talk with the rest of the team and wistfully stared at you instead, silently willing you to cheer up.

“I think that went pretty well.” Rhodey nodded and the team agreed. “But where were you the whole time, Y/n? Picking daisies?”

Peter held his breath as you slowly turned around. You gave Rhodey a frigid smile and shook your head.

“We came during a blizzard so I used my powers to create a heated force field around the area we were in to prevent frostbite and give you guys and easier time seeing in the snow. We were also at a higher altitude than any of us are used to so I kept the air pressure to sea level standard.” You said simply. “And I assumed there would be smoke from the battle so I rounded up the nearby animals and made a separate for field around them to protect their lungs.”

The room went silent, something you were used to at this point. But instead of everyone falling silent because they were laughing at you, they were impressed.

“Oh.” Rhodey blinked in surprise, not expecting the answer he was given.

“I also picked this flower.” You smiled proudly as you produced a Forget Me Not from your lap. Peter couldn’t keep the grin from breaking through on his face. You were the center of attention once again, but in a good way this time. Everyone was pleasantly surprised with what you had done and it showed.

“I didn’t think about the altitude.” Nat realized.

“I had no idea there was a blizzard.” Steve added, looking dumbfounded.

“Because I kept you from knowing.” You shrugged. “I wanted you guys to focus on the mission.”

“I mean, I knew. I just didn’t tell you guys because I was so distracted by my buffed and polished nails.” Tony twiddled his fingers again, showing off his freshly manicured nails. You all laughed, breaking the tension in the jet.

“Well look at that.” Sam looked impressed. “Y/n knew something we didn’t.”

It was almost a compliment, but it still made you feel insecure. You didn’t want it to be this mind boggling every time you did something useful.

“Thanks, Y/n. That was really smart.” Peter said softly as he patted your knee. You put your hand over his and squeezed it. It was the first time someone called your smart, and it made you feel good.

“It was really smart.” Sam said skeptically. He stared at you for a moment before poking your side.

“What are you doing?” You swatted his hand away.

“Just making sure you’re still in there.” He eyed you suspiciously. Peter could sense the attention was making you uncomfortable and changed the subject.

“Are we almost home?” He asked Tony before peering out the window. The flight was a little over 7 hours on a normal plane, but the Stark jet was much quicker. The flight would only take a few hours, but Peter was not known for being patient.

“Yes, Peter. We are almost back at the tower. You can get your diaper changed and your bottle as soon as we get back.” Tony sassed him, making him shrink in his seat. Your body language had completely changed and your were now sitting straight, facing the group. Peter was glad you were feeling better and didn’t even mind Tony’s comment.

“Guys, let’s be civil. We’re all tired. We all want to get home.” You said calmly. “Let’s just focus on how pretty the sky looks tonight. Isn’t is pretty, Peter?”

He gazed at your profile as you looked out the window at the stars, admiring how pretty you looked from the side.

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.” He conceded without ever taking his eyes off you. You shot him a smile before looking straight ahead at the dashboard.

“Wow, the moon is huge!” You pointed time a large yellow crescent that could be seen through the window.

“That’s literally the reflection of my banana on the windshield.” Tony deadpanned. He may have been right, but it still looked pretty.

“Should we make a wish?” You asked Peter, ignoring Tony’s comment.

“On the banana?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded. “On the banana.”

“Why?” Rhodey asked. “It’s not like people wish on the moon.”

“It feels like we should.” You said with confidence.

“Yep. She’s still in there.” Sam chuckled. And just like that, your confidence receded.

“I hate it here.” Bucky sighed heavily and tuned out of the conversation.

“It must be so peaceful being you, Y/n.” Tony remarked.

“Why do you say that?” You wondered.

“Because instead of thinking about your problems and mistrials, you simply don’t think at all.” Tony said suavely. In only a better for minutes, you’d gone from being the hero to the laughing stock of the group. The sly comments and taunting laughter made you feel like you should stop opening your mouth entirely. You faked a smile and turned back towards the window, tuning out the rest of the way home. Peter chewed his lip as he stared at you, feeling useless to helping you out. The team just wouldn’t let up, no matter how many times he told them to stop. Knowing you weren’t in the mood to talk, he scooted closer to you and put a comforting hand on your back. You smiled warmly at him and rested your head on his shoulder, listening to him point out the constellations the whole way home.

~

The next day, you and Peter were sitting in the balcony, working on some new gadgets for Mr. Stark when Peter made a startling discovery.

“Where’s my right web shooter?” Peter stood up in a panic when he realized it was missing. “I left it right here.”

“Maybe a bird carried it off.” You shrugged as you twisted a tiny screw into Peters left web shooter.

“I’m being serious, Y/n.” Peter stated. “Mr. Stark is going to kill me and turn me into a decorative rug if I lost it.”

“I’m being serious too. We live in New York and I see birds around here all the time.” You told him as you continued your work. “And you know the pigeons here are feral. A bird probably stole it to pay for his child support.”

Peter usually entertained your antics and joined in with his own batch of sarcasm, but he wasn’t in the mood. His web shooter was missing and their were actual stakes involved. Without his web shooter, he couldn’t be Spiderman. And without Spider-Man, he couldn’t be an Avenger.

“Can you be serious for once?“ Peter whined, picking up everything on the table to look under it.

“I’m just saying it’s possible, Peter. You never know.” You insisted as you put your screw driver down to help him look. You began looking in the flower pots on the windowsill that you and Peter had planted. Peter stopped his search for a moment, growing angry with you for wasting time. He didn’t know if you were joking around or genuine believed his web shooter was in the flower pots, but it made him frustrated nonetheless. A combination of his lack of sleep and stress over losing the webshooter manifested into a moment of unchecked rage.

“No, it’s not possible.” He snapped. “A bird didn’t steal my web shooter. God, do you have to be so stupid?” 

 The word hung in the air for a moment, settling in to the both of you. Peters eyes immediately softened, feeling instant regret for what he had said. You stopped trifling through the plants and slowly turned around.

“What?” You asked quietly. Peter tightened his lips into a line and tried to justify what he had said.

“I try to defend you but you make it so hard. Can you help me out a little here and not be so…” He trailed off when he realized he had only made it worse. Your face hardened and you looked disappointed in Peter, which killed him. He would have preferred anger or even sadness, but the disappointment killed him.

“So what?” You shrugged. “Finish your sentence Peter.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“No, really, go ahead.” You stated coldly. “You got this far. So what, Peter?”

He looked at you for a moment, getting that feeling of wishing you could turn back time just a few seconds to fix a mistake.

“So dumb all the time.” He finished his sentence with an unsteady voice. Your face scrunched up in a pained expression as you sucked in and let out a shaky breath.

“You were the only one who never called me that.” You whimpered before moving past him and going inside. Peter watched you through the open balcony doors as you disappeared into the hallway with a heavy heart. His mouth was open to apologize, but you were long gone. He’d seen you being ridiculed so many times already, and now he was the one doing it. All that talk about it never happening again, only for him to be the reason it happened. Peter couldn’t live with himself for another minute without you knowing how sorry he was. He took a step towards the doorway until he heard a pigeon land on the table. He watched it curiously for a moment as it pecked at the screwdriver you had been using before picking it up with its beak. It flew over to the edge and began to walk along the railing, still keeping the screwdriver in his mouth. Peter followed the pigeon, walking all the way down the balcony to find a large nest in the corner. He watched as it dropped the screwdriver into its nest, right next to his web shooter.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter.” Peter said in disbelief. Peter watched as baby pigeons poked out from inside the web shooter to greet the other pigeon.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter for his kids.” Peters eyes widened even more than they already were. Realized struck him and his shoulders slumped.

“She was right.” He mumbled, angry at himself more than ever. “I yelled at her and she was right.”

Peter wasted no time in rescuing his web shooter from the birds, offering them a nice biodegradable coffee cup in its place, and ran to the kitchen to make you a peace offering. He knocked softly on your door and didn’t wait for an answer before going in.

“I made you this cup of tea as an apology.” Peter stiffly held out a mug with an awkward smile on his face. You looked at Peter from your bed, eyes puffy like you had been crying. You stared at each other for a long time, you with a death glare and Peter with his awkward smile. Neither of you said a word as Peter continued to hold out the mug. After two full minute of silence, a bead of sweat ran down Peters face as he looked around nervously, never breaking his smile. You let out an angry sigh and decided to throw him a bone, crossing the room to accept his mug. You looked into the cup for a moment before looking back at Peter.

“This is empty.” You deadpanned.

“I don’t know how to make tea.” Peter whispered, never breaking eye contact.

“I’ve seen you make it.” You snapped.

“I forgot how to do it.” Peters eyes shifted nervously to the side.

“Bucky was in the kitchen, wasn’t he?”

“I know he hates me.” Peter talked over you as you groaned. “I know he does.”

“Just go away.” You tried to close the door but he kept it open.

“No.” Peter said firmly. “I came in here to apologize.”

“You see this?” You held up the mug for a Peter to see. “It’s my cup of care. And look at that” ,you dumped the cup over, “it’s empty.”

Peter stared at your demonstration with raised eyebrows, surprised that you were still able to be sarcastic when he hurt you. Peter took the mug from your hands and set it on the ground before slowly looking up at your face.

“You’re not stupid.” He said softly with all the sincerity his heart could give. You scoffed and folded your arms, looking to the side when you felt tears sting your eyes.

“Yes I am.” You said like you fully believed it, which was Peters worse fear. “Everyone says so. Even you.”

It hit Peter like a sheet of glass when you looked at him like that.

Like he was someone you didn’t want around.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” Peter apologized. “That is not how I feel. At all.”

“Don’t act like you’ve never thought about saying that before.” You laughed sadly. “Everyone on the team calls me dumb. It was only a matter of time before you did it too.”

“I didn’t mean it.” Peter repeated. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Bullshit.” You snapped. “You’re so full of bullshit.”

“I’m not full of bullshit.” He whined like a child and gave you puppy dog eyes. “I’m full of regret.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as he gave you his best pout, willing you to forgive him. Finally, you caved and cracked a smile.

“I hate you.” You stamped your foot and hung your head, frustrated with yourself for not being able to stay mad at him. Peter opened his arms and you walked into them, arms still folded angrily. You bumped your forehead against his shoulder before moving to rest your chin on it as he wrapped his arms around you. Peter nestled against your hair and sighed, happy that you had forgiven him but still saddened that he had hurt you in the first place. He could see the pile of used tissues on your bed and it killed him to know he made you cry.

“I didn’t mean to call you that. I really didn’t.” He said softly. “I’m the one who’s been trying to stop people from saying that.”

“But they still do it.” You sniffled. “Everyday I get called dumb or stupid or scalene.”

“I think it’s obtuse, not scalene.” Peter reluctantly corrected you. You pulled away and little and let Peter wipe the tears from your face.

“Maybe they’re right.” You shrugged and looked Peter in the eyes. “Maybe I am dumb.”

Peter kept your face between his hands, staring at you for a moment before sighing.

“I once sneezed so many times in a row that I peed my pants.” Peter deadpanned. “I was 17.”

“What?” You chuckled as you wiped your nose.

“I saw Bucky try to take a piece of toast out of the toaster with his metal arm and electrocute himself.” He continued. “And I constantly see Tony bumping into glass doors.”

“I don’t understand.” You squinted your eyes, but sure what point he was trying to make.

“Steve still picks up the phone and asks for the operator. Nat leaves her curling iron plugged in all the time. I do not think Sam knows the address of where we live and I’m pretty sure Rhodey can’t do laundry. He gets all his stuff dry cleaned, even his socks.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You asked.

“Because were all dumb.” Peter concluded. “We all do and say dumb things. You don’t know where Alaska is and no one in this tower can read analog clocks. If we’re all dumb, then maybe none of us are dumb. Or we all are. Who cares?” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. “And you were right. A bird did carry off my web shooter. So no, you’re no dumb. Or stupid. Or obtuse. You’re, uh, you- you…” Peter looked down at he fumbled over his words.

“I’m what?” You raised an eyebrow. You could finish his sentence last time, but this time you were lost.

“You’re…” Peter tampered off again, staring at your confused expression for a moment before pulling you into a kiss. Your hands clenched into a fist and slowly uncurled as you relaxed into the kiss. Peter pulled away too soon and let his eyes flutter open. They met yours and you shared a moment of hesitation, not knowing what happened rest next.

“I’m gonna be honest lovey, I didn’t really have an ending to that sentence.” Peter chris joes softly, his breath fanning your face. “That was mainly improv.”

“You’re pretty good at improv, Parker.” You cracked a smile and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I did a little bit of theater in high school.” He shrugged smugly, making you giggle.

“Mmm. I severely don’t want to hear about that.” You teased before kissing him again.

“Oh, I think you do.” Peter remarked. “Because I once went to the bathroom during intermission with my mic still on and the entire audience heard me peeing.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

Tag List 🏷

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[maxwell-grant]

Having asked your thoughts on designing Frankenstein's daemon, might I now ask your thoughts on bringing Count Dracula from the written word into illustration? (I'm definitely in favour of the 'Hairy Old Mountain Man of Horror pretending he's people' look from the original novel; one of the small tests too many Draculas fail to pass is an absolutely tragic lack of the Evil Beard and/or Wicked Moustache explicitly described by Mr Stoker).

Unlike with Frankenstein, where I think the design needs to be painstakingly thought out in order to achieve the best balance of the creature's traits for horror and tragedy alike, I think with Dracula you can actually just take an approach of "whatever works". Because as I mentioned before, I think much of the appeal and longevity of Dracula is how the character's both a layered villain as well as a shapeshifting narrative force that can be tailored to whatever you want to do with. Granted, there are bad or dissappointing Dracula designs, of course there are, but in regards to the leeway you get for reinterpretation, you get a lot more of it with Dracula than with other literary icons.

Like with Frankenstein, I'm gonna bring up how I'd tackle a less grim, more comedy-centric Dracula first, one that's less a force of horror and more of a charismatic villain, and I think to that end I definitely agree that people are sleeping a lot on the hairy old man barely-passing-off-as-humanoid of the original story. Despite very much loving these performers, I'm actually not a fan of takes that mold Dracula too closely to people who've portrayed him, like Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee, partially because I think it's a waste of an opportunity to create your own Dracula design. Since I can't draw (yet), I'll do what I usually do and make a board of images to try and convey some of my thoughts on one way I'd design Dracula.

(Pictured: Kiwi's design for Dracula, Hotel Transylvania concept art, Nandor, Castlevania Dracula, Charles Dance in Dracula Untold, Vladislav, a Transylvanian rug)

I used the images in my other Dracula post and I’ll post it here again because I absolutely adore @kiwibyrd's designs for Dracula and it's main heroes, in particular I love the way it strikes a good balance at making sure Dracula looks distinctly separate from the humans, but not too much that he couldn't conceivably operate in society as just a harmless old man. I also adore the mustache and bushy eyebrows and pointy ears and I think these three are wonderful features to keep on any Dracula design. I'm also very partial to the Hotel Transylvania concept art, even if it makes me incredibly depressed to look at all the great designs they had for Dracula that they threw in the trash because they somehow decided making him look like Adam Sandler was the idea to go with.

I deeply adore What We Do In The Shadows, both the movie and the show, and Jemaine Clement's Vladislav is one of my favorite (maybe even my actual favorite) on-screen Draculas. But I also enjoy Nandor just as much, and I think it's really great that as a character he's completely different from Vlad while also being ostensibly a take on Dracula, and in particular I bring up his Jersey look because "Dracula in common clothing" is a criminally underrated concept for a joke.

As a character, I'm very partial to comedy takes on Dracula that play him up as a decadent aristocratic supervillain, the kind that can get away with talking in third person. I also have this idea for a version of Dracula who dresses ostentatiously in finely-broidered Romanian or Transylvanian patterns, maybe even wearing a rug as a cape, claiming that he's carrying the legacy of his people on his back. And of course he's lying, he's not Vlad Tepes and he's not even Romanian, he is just a parasite pretending to have a history to be proud of, but good luck getting him to admit that. And finally, I'd like this version to be played by Charles Dance, and I consider it a tremendous crime against humanity that he has yet to play Dracula proper even despite being in a film with the character's name on the title.

So that's kinda how I would design a take on Dracula for something more comedic or more based around him as this guest character and personality on-set. Now, if we're talking a more serious version, I think the possibilities increase, and I won't be getting into all of them because I may prefer to keep them to myself, but I'll elaborate a few ideas.

For example, the edition of Dracula I personally own comes with these really scratchy, really creepy B&W illustrations related to the story, that I can't find scanned online so I'm uploading them here so you can look at. They don't necessarily depict the scenes but rather some of the story's moments, like Van Helsing staking Lucy, Renfield in a straightjacket, Dracula as a coachman, and they are more focused on conveying the horror of the concepts at play.

Dracula never looks the same way in any of the illustrations, in fact you kinda have to piece him out of them by trying to find teeth or capes or eyes or bat-features to see where he's hiding this time. In the first, it's the half-man half-bat, in the 2nd, he's the shrieking bat silhouette next to Renfield, and in the latter, he's the gaping jaws and eerily humanoid eyes in the wolf. The effect to me almost feels like if you were to look at a bunch of tv static and then see a humanoid shape form for a split second before everything went back to normal, something like you'd get from Slender Man or other modern creepypastas, and I’ve argued before that Dracula’s form of horror is a very modern one. 

In terms of illustrations of Dracula that keep up the original traits while still pulling off horror, I definitely have to hand it to the one at the left of the image above, drawn by regourso on Deviantart (account deleted at present). Going back to Castlevania’s many takes on Dracula, two in particular that stick out to me would be Castlevania: Judgment’s armored dress Dracula, who’s got this great twisted heart/rose motif going on in his outfit, and Dracula’s final form in SOTN where he just sits in his throne and his cape twists into all these monsters, particularly how it’s depicted by witnesstheabsurd’s depiction. 

I’m not particularly a fan of how Dracula’s “final form” in these games is usually just some big demon, and part of what I like about his final form in SOTN instead is that, while it’s not a particularly challenging final boss, I do find it interesting the idea of us never actually getting to see what Dracula’s true final form looks like, only an ever-shifting pitch-black torrent of teeth and claws and bloody veins pouring out because that’s ultimately what Dracula is and brings to the world.

On the flip-side of the rotten old monster, we have the charming seductor Dracula, and while I’m really not a fan of how various adaptations have convinced people that “the point” of Dracula is that he’s a seductive force and an allegory for Victorian xenophobia and I’m reeeally even less of a fan of adaptations that make Dracula some misunderstood tragic hero (and I think I’ve made rather violently clear my feelings on interpretations that play up a romance between him and Mina), that the seductive force part exists is impossible to deny, so conversely, while on one hand we can have Dracula as the gargantuan whirlwind of predatory violence, we can also go for Dracula as the tantalizing lover.

I’ve seen a lot of opinions proclaiming Frank Langella as the best Dracula because he was the best at actually being seductive while still playing Dracula, although I haven’t yet seen his performances. If I had to point at one picture I look at and do buy for a second the idea of Dracula as a romantic character, it would be that particular still of Raul Julia in the left of the above image. And it’s strange for me to think of Raul Julia as attractive because I mainly associate him with his brilliant comedy performance of M.Bison (I know it’s far from the highlight of his career but, look, I grew up with Street Fighter, I can’t help it) but those eyes are definitely looking pretty convincing to me, if nothing else. 

And I’ve included this still of Sebastian Stan in the right because, during a conversation between me, @krinsbez and @jcogginsa about who could be a good fit for Dracula, jcog suggested Sebastian Stan, partially because he’s Romanian, and I’ve learned recently that Stan was actually interested in playing the character in Blumhouse’s upcoming remake. And you’d think I’d hate this idea  considering how much I don’t care for tragic anti-hero Draculas, but who says that’s what he’d have to play? 

Do you have any idea how much actors, who are traditionally known for heroic or supporting roles, usually LOVE it when you give them a chance to cut loose as the main villain?

I’d want Sebastian Stan to put all of his charm, all of his talent, all of his good looks and etc, into playing the absolute most vicious, bloodthirsty and irredeemable Dracula put on screen. Someone who is exceedingly, eerily good at being a lovable protagonist, who’s all smiles and charming eyes and politeness mannerisms and maybe even a funny accent, and then it isn't as funny when he's flying through your window intent on kidnapping babies to feed to his brides, except he may take a moment or two to do so because he's feeling pretty hungry himself right now.

Now, admittedly this is kind of a lot to juggle in regards to a single character, which is why my answer for questions like these inevitably has to be “depends on what I’m going for”. That being said, if I was going to try and cast someone who I think could both look the part of Dracula, as well as respectively, play “cartoon aristocrat” Dracula, “mercurial embodiment of evil” Dracula, as well as realistically be an attractive, even seductive performer who can charm viewers even as the character descends into horrible villainy, and juggle these performances even?

I think I’d have to go with Mads Mikkelsen. Not specifically because of Hannibal (I actually haven’t watched it yet), although it’s definitely a factor, the thing that actually made me pick him specifically is, other than his looks, his voice, his reputation for playing sinister characters, the fact that he loves the role and wants to play it, or how many people are deeply in love with this man, or that people already joke that he looks like a vampire, was watching him in Another Round, and specifically that glorious final scene where he’s just dancing to his heart’s content and just, moving with such spring in his step and such joyful vitality even though he’s past his mid-fifties, and that was the moment where, in regards to how much you all love this man, I went

And now I am going to add “casting Mads Mikkelsen as a dancing Dracula” to The List of Reasons Why I Became a Filmmaker.

[westanthewaterman]

After the Hunt - Murdock x M!Reader

Rating: NSFW

Word count: 2400+

Contents: age difference, cmnm, knife play, blood play, unsafe sex, severely under-negotiated kink, Murdock and reader are serial killers

Summary: After another successful hunt, you and Murdock return to the safe house to regroup. Blood pumping, adrenaline in your veins, what else are you to do but fuck each other’s brains out?

AN: Please, please, please read all the tw’s before reading this. This is filthy and I have no excuses. Decided to make a M Reader version because everyone deserves to have fun with the pointy knife man.

AO3 - MASTERLIST - F!READER VERSION

You shut the door with a relieved sigh, dropping your bag on the bed. It’s late, the darkness outside the windows suggests that it’s past midnight. You draw the blinds swiftly and make your way into the bathroom. 

Leaning over the sink, you splash water onto your face before lathering your hands in soap, scrubbing at the blood stains on your fingers. It had been a messy kill, but you were learning quickly that Murdock had been right, those were the most fun.

Murdock Killinheim. You’re not really sure if that’s his real name or just an alias, but you think if your parents had given you a name like that you’d probably become a serial killer too. He’s an odd man, dangerous and secretive, but you’ve grown to really enjoy his company. 

You’re not sure why he chose you to take on as an apprentice of sorts. When you had asked him once, he told you that the day the two of you met, he saw a darkness in you, a bloodlust. You can’t disagree, of course, you know it’s always been there, just under the surface. Most of your life has been spent trying to be the perfect child, attempting to live up to your parents’ ridiculous expectations. Living like that can drive a person to do…bad things. 

And now here you are. The two of you have been on the run together for almost a year, like Bonnie and Clyde without the bank robbing and a lot more murdering. There’s something about Murdock that draws you to him. You’re not sure what but you know giving in to it is a bad idea. Not only is he almost ten years your senior, he’s a dangerous man, a man with a dark past, and that never bodes well. 

You’re not sure if it’s love or lust, but, honestly, you don’t really care either way. Seeing him just after a kill, adrenaline pumping, blood all over, makes you hot in all the right ways. 

The door to the motel room opens and Murdock steps in, shutting and locking it behind him. He peers through the blinds, scanning the darkness outside.

“You weren’t followed, were you?”

“Of course not.” You dry your hands and walk out into the main room. “I’m always careful.”

“I know you are.”

He’s wearing his usual get-up - a turtle neck, long peacoat, pair of leather gloves, and his signature dark glasses. Murdock slips the glasses and his coat off and sets them on the small coffee table. He’d cleaned up the best he could before fleeing the scene but there is still blood spattered across his cheeks. 

“Another successful hunt. You did well tonight.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“We’ll lay low here for a few days. When we pack up and hit the road, I’m thinking we drive west.”

“It’d be nice to see the coast.”

“My thoughts exactly. The ocean certainly makes for a good burial ground.”

A smirk spreads across his face and he gets a dark look in his eyes, the same one he gets whenever he talks about a potential kill. It sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. 

Murdock keeps talking about plans and ideas, new weapons he’d like to try, techniques he wants to teach you. You’re trying to listen but he pulls the knife out of its holster on his thigh, twirling it in his fingers, and you’re finding it very hard to focus. There’s still blood on the blade and seeing it makes your mouth dry. Murdock pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and beings to wipe it clean but stops when he notices your gaze. 

“Something the matter?”

You blink, flicking your eyes up to look at him but they quickly fall back to the knife. “N-No, nothing. What were you saying?”

He follows your gaze to the blade in his hand, running a fingertip over the sharp metal. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Small but deadly.”

“Yeah.”

“I suppose I could say the same about you.” Murdock takes a step forward, looking over you with dark eyes. “It’s truly something to watch you work. It’s…beautiful.”

You duck your head, feeling heat rising to your face. Slowly, with a practiced hand, he slides the knife down your jaw and under your chin, tilting your head up. Your eyes meet and he’s looking at you with such intensity you feel like you can’t breathe. You know this is a bad idea, that you should step away, tell him you’re going to bed, but you can’t make yourself move. 

“I have been captivated by you since the day we met, little flower. It’s been so much fun watching you bloom.”

One of his hands reaches out to cup the side of your face. The leather of his glove is cool against your heated skin. 

“Murdock,” you say softly. 

“We both know what you want, I want it too, so stop fighting yourself.”

A whimper escapes your throat and he smirks, putting his blade back in its holster. Murdock closes the distance between the two of you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. It’s everything you’d imagined and so much more. You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. One of his hands slips into your hair and the other gets a hold of your waist, fingers digging into your skin but not enough to bruise. 

Your body is on fire and you feel like you can’t get enough of him. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, slipping into your mouth, tasting you. You’re not sure what compels you to do it, but you bite down on his lower lip, just enough to draw blood. Murdock groans and pulls away, touching his lip.

“Bloodthirsty, aren’t you?”

You smirk. “You could say that.”

He gives you a devilish smile and pushes you onto your back on the bed, leaning over you. “This is how it’s going to go, little flower. You’re going to undress for me and I’m going to give you everything you want, call it a reward for a successful kill.”

“How do you know what I want?” You push yourself up onto your elbows. 

“Oh trust me, I know exactly what it is you want. I can see it in those beautiful eyes of yours. You want to be wrecked.”

Murdock whispers the last word in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but rub your thighs together in hope of getting some kind of relief for the ache that has started between your legs. 

“So you’re going to be good and do what I tell you, aren’t you?”

You nod, looking up at him with wide eyes. When you don’t move, however, he slaps your thigh lightly. 

“Go on. I’m waiting.”

You remember that he told you to undress and you swallow the lump in your throat, feeling suddenly shy. Slowly, you pull your shirt off over your head and drop it to the floor. He gestures for you to continue, his eyes roaming over your skin. You undo the button on your jeans and lift your hips, sliding them down your thighs and to the floor. 

Murdock’s hands, still clad in the leather gloves, plant themselves on your thighs, running up and down the length of them slowly. 

“God,” he groans, “such soft skin. I would love to mark it up.”

You’re not sure if he means with his mouth or with his knife and, honestly, you can’t decide which one you like more. The thought alone pulls a moan from your lips. 

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Having my mark all over you.” (I'd love to have a mark all over me wink wink wink)

“God yes.”

Murdock’s eyes are glued to your chest and the way it rises and falls with each heavy breath you take. He slides his hand up your sides until he can run his thumbs over your nipples. The simple touch sends a shock of pleasure through you and you fall back against the bed.

“Just one thing left, little flower. Would you like some help getting them off?”

You bite your lip and nod frantically. He chuckles and pulls out his knife once again. Carefully, he slips the blade under the waist of your underwear and yanks it towards himself, cutting the fabric and repeating the motion on the other side. He pulls them off you, balling them up and throwing them over his shoulder. 

Now fully bear under his gaze, the cool air hitting your heated skin, you squirm nervously as he looks over you.

“So beautiful. Let me look at you.”

Murdock runs his hands from your chest down to your thighs, spreading your legs open. You’re hard already, practically dripping for him, and he licks his lips. One of his hands leaves its spot on your thigh to slip between your legs. The cold leather of his gloves is a shock against your dick but it feels so good. His fingers wrap around you loosely, just barely applying pressure. 

“So hard already. Tell me what you want.”

You open your mouth to speak but all you can let out is a choked moan as he starts to slowly stroke the length of your cock.

“Go on.”

“I-I want you to fuck me.”

“Yes, I know that already. Tell me what you want.”

You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut, and speak before you can stop yourself. “I want you to wreck me. I want you to fuck me with your knife against my throat.”

He groans. “Oh little flower, what fun we’re going to have.”

Murdock slips off his shoes and climbs onto the bed. He pulls a small bottle of lube from the nightstand and you give him a curious look, to which he simply smirks. Murdock pours a generous amount into his hand, warming it between his gloved fingers before reaching down and pressing two fingers inside you. You moan, gripping the sheets and rolling your hips up into his touch. He uses his free hand to trace the tip of his knife up and down your thigh, leaving behind thin, red lines in its wake. 

“M-Murdock, please, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“Inpatient, are we? Well alright, I suppose we can speed things up. Turn over, hands and knees.”

You do as you’re told, flipping onto your stomach and raising up onto your hands and knees. Murdock looks over you for a moment, admiring the curve of your ass and the arch of your back. He uses the hand that was just touching you to undo his belt and pull out his cock. He gives it a few slow strokes, aided by the lube still on his fingers, before positioning himself behind you. He sets the knife on the bed, one hand grabbing your hip and the other guiding the head of his cock to your entrance. Slowly, so slowly, he slips inside you inch by inch until his hips are flush with yours. 

You both groan. He’s just the right size to stretch you open without causing too much pain. Murdock reaches around and presses a hand to your sternum, pushing you up against his chest. 

“How does it feel?” He whispers in your ear.

“F-Full.”

He pulls back slowly then rocks his hips forwards, forcing a moan from your lips. Murdock starts at a slow pace, rocking into you with languid but powerful thrusts, each one pressing his cock into that spot that makes you see stars. He trails kisses down the side of your neck, stopping at the crook of your neck where he sucks a dark mark into your skin. 

You don’t think it can get any better until one of his hands reaches down between your legs to stroke your cock and the other picks up the knife again, pressing the blade loosely against your throat. You gasp, terrified of moving but loving every second. 

Murdock picks up his pace, hips slamming into yours. He breathes heavily in your ear, letting you hear every grunt and moan that escapes his lips. 

“You’ve wanted this since the day we met, haven’t you? Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you look at me after a fresh kill. Filthy boy, it turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” you moan helplessly, grabbing his wrist in an effort to ground yourself. 

“And now here you are, helpless and completely at my mercy, my fucking knife against your throat. Just a little more pressure and I could sever your jugular, watch you bleed out all over the sheets. You’d look so good covered in crimson, the color draining from your face.”

You let out a high-pitched whine. His words should scare you, they should terrify you, but all you can feel is your climax inching closer and closer. 

“But no, no, this is so much more fun. Are you going to cum for me?”

You nod frantically. “Please, please, please!”

“So desperate for it and it’s so close, isn’t it? You can practically taste it, can’t you? Just a little more.”

He picks up his pace, pistoning his cock in and out of you. Murdock presses the knife into your neck with more pressure and you can feel your skin splitting beneath the blade, not enough to do any real damage, but enough to send rivulets of blood dripping down your neck and over your chest. 

“Fuck, look at you.” He groans, out of breath. “Little flower, I want you to cum for me. Cum all over my fucking cock.”

The sharp edge to his voice is all you need to throw you over the edge. You clamp down around him, cumming all over his hand and throwing your head back against his shoulder as you call out his name. He fucks you through it, not slowing down until he’s cumming inside you, filling you with warmth. 

He stills and the two of you fight to catch your breath. Slowly, Murdock pulls out of you with a groan and you flop down onto your back. You look up and watch as he licks your blood off his knife before slipping it back into his holster. 

“Fuck,” you sigh, closing your eyes. 

Murdock chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants and sitting down on the edge of the bed, finally slipping off his gloves. He traces his thumb over the cut on your neck gently. “Exquisite.”

“I need a shower and like a full day of sleep now.”

“Well, we are going to be here for a few days. I’m sure we’ll have time for…everything we want to do.”

[fanfic-wonderland]

Tom riddle x Assassin/reader

Reader showing Tom how to kill and teaching him about the body and how to use knifes so he doesn’t have to use a wand

Alright, so, I don't know much about this stuff, but I tried my best, so I hope you still enjoy it. 😅😭

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Assassin!Reader

Warnings: Basically the entire thing talks about how to kill someone with a knife, and then actually doing it.

Also, please don't kill anyone with a knife. Actually, don't kill anyone at all, thank you.

***

"I know what you're planning."

Tom unglued his gaze from the book he was reading to look up at the person who was now standing at the end of his table. Clearly, picking the most deserted table in the library, in order to avoid other students approaching him, was not working. "And what is it that, according to you, I am planning?" He asked you flatly.

You grinned wickedly. "I know that you're plotting to kill your muggle father."

Tom tried not to look taken aback at your words, but you managed to see right through him. He seemed to think that he was the only clever student around. "Is that so?" He raised an eyebrow at you. "And do you have any proof of this?"

"Well, no, but I have noticed that you've taken quite an interest in Horocruxes." You ran your fingers through the hard wood before taking the empty seat across from him. "I also know that you killed Myrtle Warren. And don't even try to deny it."

Biting the inside of his cheek, he shut the book closed and leaned against the table. "You can't prove it. No one is going to believe you."

"Oh relax, Riddle," you rolled your eyes at him. "I want to help you out."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Help me?"

"Yes."

"And who said I needed help?" He folded his arms.

You began to trace the edges of his book. "Well, It's not like you need it, but I just thought that It'd be fun to do it."

He eyed you with a blank stare. "Fun?"

"There are many ways to kill someone." You rested your head on your palm. "Sure, you have your wand and you're a very skilled wizard, but It’s not as... satisfying, you know?"

He leaned even closer. "Enlighten me, then."

You beamed, and you took his words as a cue to reach into your bag. You placed the buck knife you always carried around on the table, right in front of him. "My personal favorite weapon is this."

He stared at it for a few moments. "You can hold it if you'd like." You encouraged him.

Hesitantly, he did as you told him, eyeing it in different angles. "Why?"

"It works brilliantly if you want to give your victim a slow, painful death." You answered, running your index finger through the sharp side of the object. "You can enjoy every moment of the way that their soul leaves their body, how their pained expressions slowly turn lifeless."

Tom looked up at you, again. "So, you've done it before?"

"Oh, yes. Plenty of times," your hand rested on top of his, and you guided the knife to rest on the skin of your wrist. "I've made it look like a suicide-" you moved it towards your stomach area, and then to your chest. "I've stabbed them numerous times-" and finally, you pressed the pointy end to your throat. "And I've slit their throats, watching how they choke on their own blood. There's so many ways you can do it, really."

Tom was certainly amused by the way that you spoke about it all. It was like watching someone talk about their favorite book. He never thought he would meet someone so passionate about killing people at Hogwarts, let alone someone who seemingly had a lot of experience in doing so. Like you mentioned, he had killed that filthy mudblood Myrtle Warren, but not directly. His Basilisk did all the work, he simply gave the orders. But you certainly didn't seem afraid to kill someone with your own hands. "So, you want to help me kill my father?" He asked slowly.

You smiled, your hand releasing his and the knife. You also leaned into the table, so that your faces were now only inches away. "Only if you want. I can show many more things about this, if you're interested. You'll find that killing with a wand is simply not as entertaining."

His gaze went down to your lips, and almost automatically he raised the knife to caress your skin with it. "I think you've persuaded me enough."

You bit your lip. "Glad to know you're interested."

He ran the knife through your jaw tauntingly. You could already tell that he was going to be a natural.

***

You were right.

When you and Tom managed to sneak in to his father's home a few weeks later, you found him asleep in his bed. Both of you stood on each side of it, watching him before you gave Tom the signal. "Just like I taught you." You whispered.

Tom nodded. He took out his own knife, one that you had given him as a gift, and proceeded to draw it across his father's throat, deep. As soon as the blood started to come out in large amounts, his eyes popped wide open. His mouth hung in the shape of an 'O' and gurgling sounds were the only thing to come out of it.

Once he was hopeless, his father managed to turn his head to look at Tom. His eyes were full of despair. "Hello, father." Tom said, a calm look on his face.

His father tried to speak, but nothing coherent came out of his mouth. In the heat of the moment, it seemed, Tom stabbed him on the chest. And then he stabbed him a second time. And then a third time. And then he kept going until his face was splattered with blood, his breathing heavy, and his father not moving anymore. Even to you it was a shocking sight, but you couldn't deny that it was also very fascinating. Tom's eyes met yours. "That felt... exquisite."

And before you could speak, he walked towards you and grabbed you by the waist, his lips roughly meeting yours. It took you by surprise, but you managed to catch up to him and wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your hands in his hair as the kiss got hungrier by the second. There was a rush of adrenaline going through you, and you were certain that he was feeling it as well, and suddenly the taste of metal against your tongue wasn't too bad.

You pulled away, despite the fact that you wanted to keep kissing him until your lips were stinging. "I'm so proud of you." You said against his mouth.

"I owe it all to my teacher, after all." He smirked before kissing you, yet again.

None of you seemed bothered by the fact that there was a lifeless body lying next to you, and that the amount of blood that was on the scene could make anyone faint. On the contrary, you though it was beautiful.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Lan zhan was trasformed into a dog during a nighthunt and now wwx has to find a solution.

He's distraugh, terrorized, but that's Lan zhan, his husband, the love of his life, he would never hurt him, but even knowing all that his mind is still irrationally screaming at him to run, that it's not safe.

And he feels stupid, his husband is the one cursed, and he can't comfort him, he's so selfish for him to need comfort right now.

Other people don't understand this, they'd ask him why is he being so difficult, why couldn't he try to behave normally.

Just people realising how hard Is for him and not using It as a comic relief would be awesome.

Maybe an external pov? Whatever you'll do will be awesome anyway <3

sequel to this fic (LWJ turned into a puppy)

“Oh, fuck off,” Jiang Cheng shouted, and Wei Wuxian, sitting on his bed and still shaking, lifted his head like a dog that just caught an enticing scent.

Probably not the best metaphor to use at the moment. Or at all, really.

Either way, Jiang Cheng was angry at someone, and that was usually a pretty good distraction from, well, just about anything. At least, it had been when they were younger, but that was because Jiang Cheng being angry was usually the prelude to Jiang Cheng doing something stupid which was, in turn, the prelude for a whole bunch of trouble.

Wei Wuxian could use some trouble to distract himself with.

Though – now that he thought about it, he couldn’t quite figure out why Jiang Cheng was doing here, in the Cloud Recesses, much less why he was angry.

He inched towards to the door to try to hear the voices, that had dropped down to a murmur.

“It’s none of your fucking business, that’s what it is,” Jiang Cheng was saying, very rudely. “How long did Hanguang-jun manage without him? He’s not dead or even injured. Temporarily inconvenienced at best.”

Wei Wuxian flinched.

Right.

They were talking about – that.

It wasn’t Lan Wangji’s fault that the water had turned him into a dog. It wasn’t even his fault for getting into it at all; he’d been against it entirely, with Wei Wuxian pushing to try it out – he’d only been indulgent as he always was, loving and cherishing Wei Wuxian too much. If anything, it could be argued that it served Wei Wuxian right for what had come out of there.

(Large and covered in shaggy fur, with wickedly large teeth to bite and strong legs to give chase, pointed snout and ears to better uncover any place he might hide -)

He’d fled, of course. Right back to the jingshi, and as he’d expected Lan Wangji had been considerate enough not to follow him – except the effects of the pool apparently took some time to wear off, and it might be days before…

He’d promised Lan Wangji every day. He hadn’t meant to break his word so quickly.

But he just couldn’t.

Obviously that was what was being discussed outside: how Wei Wuxian ought to be comforting his husband, who’d had his very humanity snatched away from him, rather than huddling inside their shared home; how it was ridiculous for him to be afraid when it wasn’t even a real dog, it was Lan Wangji, who would never harm him.

How he was just being stupid –

“It’s not stupid!” Jiang Cheng bellowed, almost as if he’d heard Wei Wuxian’s thoughts. “Are you completely brainless? Has Teacher Lan decided to give up on teaching anything useful? It doesn’t have to make sense! Fear doesn’t make sense!”

“But –” Some very brave and very unfortunate person decided to try to speak. “To have courage is to overcome your fears –”

“You’re a grown man, what do you know?” Jiang Cheng sneered. “It’s easy to speak of courage when you’re tall and strong, and hard when you’re small and weak – the injuries of childhood are the deepest and most lasting, just as memories are the most visceral when they are from the days when you didn’t know how to hold yourself separate. Do you really think the Yiling Patriarch is a coward? Do you not remember what he did for you, for all of you, at the Burial Mounds, using his own life to draw away the threat?”

Silence.

“So what if he’s afraid of dogs?” Jiang Cheng continued. “That’s his business, not yours!”

A familiar crackle – Zidian being unfurled.

“Anyone who wants to make something of it can come consult with me first!”

Footsteps, retreating rapidly, and then a very familiar tread, heading his way – Wei Wuxian pulled away from the door just moments before Jiang Cheng yanked it open, face red with irritation.

“The people here are stupid,” he told Wei Wuxian without any greeting. “I don’t know how you put up with it.”

“Habit,” Wei Wuxian said on automatic, and then pasted on a grin, though judging from Jiang Cheng’s expression he wasn’t doing a good job of it. “Anyway, aren’t you being hypocritical? You were the one who used Fairy against me…”

“That was because I was trying to torture you!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, as if that was somehow a defense. “I wasn’t disrespecting you over it!”

…oddly enough, that did make Wei Wuxian feel better.

“Why are you here, anyway?” he asked, and Jiang Cheng shot him a look as if he was stupid. “For me?”

“Idiot,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Of course I’m here for you. Didn’t I say I’d protect you from them?”

He’d been very small at the time. Wei Wuxian hadn’t thought he’d remembered.

“Not that you care. I ought to have adopted a dozen dogs, it would’ve served you right…”

Jiang Cheng hadn’t adopted a single dog in the entire time Wei Wuxian had been dead. Even Fairy, Jin Ling’s beloved husky, had been a gift from Jin Guangyao, not Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian abruptly felt warm.

“You’re not here to bully me into seeing Lan Zhan, are you?” he asked.

“Of course not! Like I want to spend any more time with that ice block than I need to!”

“Xichen-da-ge says he’s very adorable right now. All fuzzy pointy ears and big waving tail,” Wei Wuxian said, because he might be mortally afraid of dogs but tormenting his shidi was always the number one priority. “Like a poof ball, he says. And soft!”

Jiang Cheng visibly wavered.

“Shut up,” he said.

“You’d probably try to stick your face into his belly –”

“Hanguang-jun? Never! Not even if he was the softest, fluffiest, warmest, cutest…what was I saying?”

Wei Wuxian started giggling uncontrollably.

Yes, he thought happily: Jiang Cheng’s trouble really was the best sort of distraction.

[singswan-springswan]

Kanera Faerie AU because I think that would be really fun and my brain won’t shut up so here we go. 

Kanan first meets her at Okadiah’s place, where he runs the bar sometimes and ubers people around after hours. She is stunning when she walks in. Her long, mysterious cloak flutters in a heavy way, accentuating every motion with a regality that doesn’t belong in this part of town. Kanan does his best to keep his composure. he makes it a total of .3 seconds until he hears her speak and that’s it, he’s whipped. flirtatiously, he tells her that her glamour has slipped, and he thinks she must be fair folk because her voice is enchanting, and her beauty is a rich allure---but she pays him no mind, and Kanan can’t feel magic in her. she’s just an ordinary woman.

haHa uNleSs---

Her name is Hera, and she’s travelling on secret business. She can handle herself in a fight, thank you. She doesn’t require assistance of any kind. And kriff, Kanan knows she can’t be fae but she sure can act like one. Her words are clever, and everyone she meets is caught in her gravity, pulled in as though spellbound. 

Against his better judgement, Kanan finds himself involved in her secret affairs. He knows, instinctively, that Hera is a grand kind of woman. She will do things---great things, immense things, things that draw attention---and it won’t be a safe bet for Kanan to have any affiliation because ever since the Emperor rose and slandered the fae, Kanan’s people have been undergoing a slow, silent slaughter. 

He doesn’t want to be ousted and risk the hunt that’s sure to follow. it’s safe to pass as a man, to hide in plain sight, to construct a magic façade around his inhuman looks and devastating presence, to pretend that he can’t pour fire from his hands or heal fatalities with song. He’s lost count of fae who couldn’t pretend, who couldn’t hide. The horns of a fae sell for more money than jewels or silks; if carved out just right, they still hold magic. These days, many bounty hunters and the like spend their time sniffing out fae to kill. Fae weren’t beloved to begin with---more mythical than tangible anyway, feared for their power and rumors of abduction, entrapment, illusion, and other obscene acts---but the Emperor’s open enmity with them only seemed to justify the hatred now common throughout the land. it wasn’t safe to be fae.

The way Hera behaves, someone will find out Kanan’s secret; it’s only a matter of time. but he has nothing better to do. besides, Grandfather Windu didn’t approve of the uber hustle, so joining Hera on her secret adventure is a good way to give Okadiah the slip on that one.

This is the part where I get snagged on the worldbuilding because I want to parallel events from A New Dawn for this AU but like it’s hard in a fantasy setting lol. I just want Kanan to have dark, wiry horns and eyes that could literally drown a soul and pointy ears and serious kriffing cheekbones and force powers except he can bend light to his will and turn it to fire or sparkles and such and I want him to be this cocky gunslinger guy who’s trying to be a rebellious grandson and not hide way deep in the mystical woodland of the courts like the remainder of his family wants him to because he knows his people aren’t safe grouped together they’ve been massacred that way before and charming humans and toying with them and amusing himself by trolling them is part of who he is as a faerie so he’s gotta be near them not holed away and disconnected.

I want Hera to be doing some dramatic espionage work and I want her to be annoyed by Kanan tagging along and his uncanny ability to charm everyone they come across. I want her to be vicariously hyper fixated on her cause to the point that she shrugs off serious issues like the genocide of the fae and the way that this racism married to the irresponsible industrialism of the empire is poisoning their land and draining away its magic. I want her to ask Kanan how old he is and watch him flounder for a good response (he’s only 100 something-ish. baby boy). I want her to stare at him in utter bewilderment as he whistles (he’s bored) an eerie tune and proceeds to get escorted by a murder of crows for the next few km of their journey. I want her to bat her eyelashes sweetly and talk to him in low tones so she can con him into giving her that cool shiny thing the crows found (it’s the key she uses to access her lockbox with reports and intel exchanged between her and her contact kriff Kanan hand it over). I want her to toss him a weapon during a fight (a dagger? a gun? do they have guns in this time period?) and have him hiss like a feral cat and duck to the side to avoid touching it (iron). I want her to be flabbergasted when Kanan is revealed to be fae because it really catches her off guard.

The angstiest way to stage the reveal is to have the villain figure it out and expose Kanan in front of Hera and whatever other friends they’ve accumulated along their quest (ghost crew maybe? unless you want to keep this set in the A New Dawn stretch) since they got captured in all their spy osik and possibly threatening to torture him and mount his head on a wall or something or other classic medieval shenanigans. Hera is forced to watch while she’s still shocked and trying to process the fact that he’s not human.

Alternatively, Kanan reveals himself like he did in the book by using his powers to save Hera and it’s the spur of the moment so she’s shocked obviously, but there’s no time to sit around and chat about this new development so Kanan’s hauling her up by the arm, yelling at her to keep moving (I’m sure there are explosions in the background), and she trips a little doing as she’s told because his glamour has burned up like mist in the morning sun and he’s so... ethereal, and it’s hard to look away and her brain is short-circuiting. Kanan flashing a cocky grin and winking to hide how much he’s panicking internally 🤌Him reconstructing the glamour after the fact while also having a meltdown and trying not to hyperventilate because he wasn’t sure how Hera felt towards fae before and even though he’s sure she’s in love with him (he’s very hard to resist) there’s still a chance she can expose his identity.

But this whole thing has been a learning experience for Hera. She’s finally able to forage up some convictions about fae, despite being heavily wary of them in the past, like any sane person. and she already cares very deeply about Kanan so she’s willing to protect his secret.

hmm anyone please write this I would do it but I have too many other commitments lol send me the story I will drown you with kudos any takers?

[jobean12-blog]

Pitching a Tent

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,568

Summary: You and the team go on a camping trip together and you get stuck sharing a tent with Bucky. 

Author’s Note: This is for @aesthetical-bucky 1k challenge and the continuation of the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and the super fun prompt sent in below. For the challenge I had the prompt- enemies to friends/lovers: camping trip and you’re forced to share a tent with (Bucky) and then the smutty prompt- “are you wearing underwear?” Congratulations my beautiful love! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warning: Fun teasing, flirting, fluffy fun, implied sexy times ;)

The tent pole pops out of the fabric and nearly takes your eye out. Letting go a string of curses you flail around in a huff. “Having some trouble, doll?” Bucky taunts, standing over you with a smirk. With a frustrated groan you stand, poking him in the chest. “Are you offering to help or just enjoying my suffering.” He picks up one of the poles and bops you on the head, “nope, definitely not gonna help,” and walks off with a laugh.

You grit your teeth, ready to stab him with the pointy end but Clint’s boots block your way. “Hey kid, need some help.” Looking up you frown, but it quickly turns into a smile when he gives you his own goofy grin. “That would be great thanks! Bucky basically came over here to make fun of me then left.”

Clint’s grin only grew, his eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place. “What?” you ask, watching as he starts picking up the pieces of the tent. “Nothing. You two are oblivious is all. Hand me that pole, please.” You hand it over with a raised brow, blowing out a raspberry before saying, “if by oblivious you mean he’s an asshole then yea.”

With a shake of his head Clint continues building the tent, doing it far more quickly and efficiently than you ever could. “Wow,” you say, standing back and looking over the perfectly balanced tent. “Thanks, Clint! At least someone was nice enough to help me!” You shout the last words in Bucky’s direction, his head swinging your way. “Well it’s a good thing. You would have never been able to do it yourself.”

Clint can no longer contain his laughter as it rings out over the campground. “Oh man, so funny,” he mutters as he walks away. You narrow your eyes at Bucky, sticking out your tongue. He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and does the same back, your face scrunching up in shock. “UGH!” you say, not noticing when Steve leans over in Clint’s ear, whispering something that makes them both grin deviously.

The rest of the day goes by peacefully and you enjoy the beautiful sights and sounds of the woods. You manage to avoid Bucky for most of it. After dinner you head down to the lake to cool off with a swim. Ridding yourself of your clothes you walk into the refreshing water wearing only your underwear and bra, sighing at how good it feels.

You’re so caught up in the relaxation of your surroundings that you don’t hear Bucky quietly enter the water. It isn’t until he has his hands at your sides, tickling you and effectively scaring the life out of you that you know anyone is there. You scream loud enough to draw over Nat and Clint, the two of them going from terrified to annoyed. “I’m gonna drown the both of you if you don’t cut this shit out!” Nat yells over the water then stomps off, Clint hot on her heels.

“Nat’s not gonna be able to drown you because I’m gonna do it first,” you shout, trying your best to push Bucky under the water. It’s no use of course as he laughs and easily holds you back. “Nice try doll, but you might want to work on your take down a bit.” With that he dunks you one more time and strides out of the lake. You seethe, watching as the water drips down over his neck and chest. You don’t know if you’re angrier at the fact that he managed to scare you or that you’re staring because he looks so damn delicious.

Darkness finally descends on the campground and you and the rest of the team are huddled around the campfire, roasting marshmallows while Tony complains. “You should have let me buy a camper. Then we could have done this and gone to bed in style.” Steve throws a marshmallow at his head, tsking as he says, “that defeats the purpose Tony!” You laugh while trying to unstick your fingers from the marshmallow on your smore, finally deciding to just lick it off. You feel someone staring and look up to see Bucky’s eyes on you. His jaw is clenched, and he looks almost angry, so you just chalk it up to him being his usual jerky self. Throwing him a smirk you lick your lips.

It’s after midnight when everyone finally shuffles off to their tents. Nat and Clint, Tony and Pepper, Steve and Sam and then you and Bucky are left glaring at each other. “Oh, hell no, Barnes, you can sleep outside,” you say, going into the only empty tent left and starting to zip it closed. He barges through, “no way y/n. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

You look down at the sleeping bag and although it’s giant there is only one. “Then you have to sleep outside the sleeping bag!” You stomp your foot with authority, and he laughs. “We’ll see about that.” Huffing and puffing you get yourself ready for bed, all the while very aware of Bucky’s closeness.

Once you’re under the cover and comfortable you sneak a glance his way just as he’s taking off his shirt. He starts to take off his pants and you screech, “what are you doing Barnes?” Giving you a cocky smile, he replies, “what does it look like, baby, getting ready for bed.” His pants are off in a second and he’s now standing in his boxer briefs.

You swallow hard and try to look away but can’t seem to bring yourself to. He lays down next to you, above the covers as promised and grabs his book. “Sleep tight, doll.” You mumble goodnight and turn over with a sigh. You’re not sure how much time passes before you start shivering but you can’t seem to stop.

“Are you cold, y/n?” You were hoping he was asleep already. “No, I’m fine,” you lie, curling into yourself. The next thing you know he’s getting into the sleeping bag and pulling you into his chest. At first you protest, pushing away from him with a grunt. “No thanks, Buck.” He doesn’t listen, tightening his hold on you and whispering into your neck, “don’t fight me, doll. You can’t freeze all night. Your feet are like ice.”

Giving in you go limp in his arms, finding it hard to fall asleep now that his warm body is so close to yours. You wiggle around to get comfortable and you hear his breath hitch, the low rumble of a growl vibrating through his chest. Ignoring him you cuddle closer, the feel of his hardness against your ass making you stifle a moan. You finally relax, the comfort of his strong body lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

When you wake up the next morning, Bucky’s arms are still curled around you and your legs are tangled together. “Morning baby,” he murmurs, stretching his arms. You do the same, your oversized shirt riding up above your bum. Bucky immediately stills, his thigh brushing against your bare skin. “Are you wearing underwear?”

His question is barely audible over your heavy breathing, the air thick with tension as he runs his metal arm up your thigh. “Um. They were still wet last night after my swim in the lake, so I didn’t wear any to bed.” He rolls you over, caging you under him and between his arms. “Are you telling me you’ve been without underwear this whole time?”

You shake your head yes, unable to speak now that his thigh is nudging between your legs. “Fuck,” he growls before leaning down to kiss you. The very moment your lips brush to his you hear the zipper of your tent. Bucky jumps off you and throws the cover over your bodies. “Morning you two!” You hear Sam’s chipper voice before you see him poke his head into the tent. “Hurry and get up, Tony’s hungry and is already starting to yell about taking everyone out to eat. We have to get breakfast ready and we need all hands-on deck.”

He smiles, waiting for your reply. “Yea, yea, we’re coming Sam, get out!” Bucky throws a sock at his face which works better than expected as Sam wrinkles his nose in disgust and quickly leaves. “Fucking hell, he has the worst timing.” You giggle then blurt out, “but I thought you couldn’t stand me.” Bucky quickly moves back to you, taking you into his arms.

“Quite the opposite doll. I really like you a lot. It’s just easier for me to be a pain in your ass than actually tell you. I didn’t think you could ever feel the same way.” You straddle his waist, winding your arms around his neck. “Well, you’re wrong. I do like you. A lot.” His thumb brushes against your cheek and he leans in for another kiss only to be interrupted once again by Sam yelling outside your tent.

“Don’t make me come in there again! Hurry your asses up.” Bucky rests his forehead to yours and sighs, “I guess we have to go help with breakfast.” You tuck some hair behind his ear. “Yea, I guess,” you reply with a light laugh, then perk up, asking, “hey, so what are you doing later?” His grip on your waist tightens and he gives you a heated look. “You.”

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