#suddenly got REALLY REALLY BADLY HIT WITH. PREVIOUS FEELINGS

[avpdgirlfriend]

having a . um.

[starryjake]

late nights | hyung line

in which your boyfriend gets horny in the middle of the night. *assume that the characters have given consent to sleep play in previous conversations.*

pairing: hyung line x fem!reader

includes: consensual sleep play, f receiving oral sex, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, handjob, thigh riding, dry humping (lmk if i missed anything).

heeseung ೃ࿐

his heart basically broke when he trudged into your shared bedroom in the middle of the night, finding you fast asleep in bed. he’d said he was almost done on his computer 3 hours ago. you wanted to wait up for him so you could go to bed together, but the time just kept passing and you were eventually too tired to even try.

heeseung sighed and pulled his shirt over his head before softly crawling into bed next to you, immediately pressing himself against your backside.

the minute he pressed himself against your warm, slack body, he got hard. he hadn’t realized how pent up he was, how badly he needed to fuck you until really feeling your body against his own.

he took a deep, shaky breath, wrapping his arm around your waist and sliding his hand under your shirt to feel your warm, smooth skin. feeling you bare made heeseung only that much harder, twitching against the fabric of his pajama pants.

he slid his hand down lower into your pajama bottoms, biting back a moan as he immediately started rubbing your clit, feeling the heat of your pussy around his fingers.

he needed you to get just as worked up as he was. he needed you to wake up and take care of his problem.

as he was rubbing your clit, he started pushing his hips into your ass, needing some kind of friction to help ease the ache just a little bit.

by that point, with heeseung practically dry humping you and fingering you at the same time, it was impossible to stay asleep.

“hee?” you mumbled out, turning your neck back to look at him.

“can i put it in, baby?” he asked you, placing his hand on your neck and kissing the corner of your lips. “be a good girl and let me fuck you back to sleep.”

you blinked up at him with wide, confused eyes that only made him want to fuck you even more.

“okay,” you agreed sleepily, turning your head back the other way comfortably on your pillow.

heeseung didn’t waste a second, hurriedly tugging your pants down, followed by his. he didn’t even bother taking them all the way off, just enough to expose your hole and for his cock to come out.

he spread his pre-cum around his shaft, jerking himself off for a minute before lining himself up with your hole, which had gotten wet while you were sleeping.

he pushed in and groaned in relief at the sensation of your tight, warm walls wrapped around his needy cock. you closed your eyes, you head still hazy from sleep, but heeseung’s constant sharp thrusts were slowly beginning to wake you up fully.

“i tried to wait for you,” you sighed out, intertwining your fingers with his in front of your stomach. “i wanted you to fuck me before sleep, not during.”

“i know, angel,” he grunted, his hips moving rapidly in and out of you. “i’m so sorry, my baby. i’m here now.”

you moaned softly, tilting your head back against his chest. the sound of his pelvis hitting your lower back constantly filled the room, mixed with the sounds of both your heavy breathing.

both of your sensations were heightened from the late hours of the night so it took no time at all for you to be cumming at the same time. <3

jay ೃ༄

you were just too tired.

you were so excited to have a chill night in with your boyfriend. you guys had a nice dinner together and were gonna end the night cuddled on the couch watching a movie. but, about 10 minutes into the movie, you fell asleep.

in your defense, you had a busy day. you had an early morning lecture followed by a 7 hour shift. of course you were tired. jay knew this, and that was why he was not surprised in the slightest to have suddenly felt your body relax and go slack in his arms, signifying that you’d fallen asleep.

you were laying between his legs, your back and head resting against his chest. he was playing with your hair, but stopped once you’d fallen asleep.

“baby?” he spoke, but no answer came.

he sighed, pondering what to do.

and then he realized, feeling your warm body asleep on him, he’d sprung an erection. he felt guilty immediately for getting turned on when you were so tired, so stressed from school and work.

he wanted to help you, to take away your stress.

he snuck his arm around your waist, resting his hand on your pelvis. his mind was still racing, debating whether or not he should do what he really wanted to do with you right now.

fuck it, he thought.

he slid his hand down into your sweatpants, rubbing your pussy over your panties. he could feel your little clit and he could feel as your panties got damp the more he rubbed it.

“my poor thing,” he gushed, moving your panties to the side so he could rub you bare. “you just need to feel good.”

you were completely asleep still, having no idea that jay was gathering your slick from your hole and spreading it between your folds and up to your clit. as sound asleep as you were, jay was surprised that you were so wet, practically leaking fluid and dripping down your legs.

he rubbed your clit in circles for a few minutes before he decided he wanted you awake to feel it. so, he slid his middle finger into your eager hole, knowing that it would wake you, and it did.

your eyes opened, and you looked down at jay’s hand in your pants, his single finger massaging your walls.

“mmm,” you moaned, leaning your head back on his hard chest. “fuck, jay.”

“i know, baby,” he cooed. “put your legs on my thighs.”

you did as you were told, spreading your legs and putting your feet on either one of his thighs. he helped you get your pants and underwear off, leaving your lower half bare in his lap, and he kept fingering you.

your pussy made a wet squelching sound every time he thrusted his fingers in and out, but you were too tired to be embarrassed. plus, it felt too good, so good that your stomach was warm and you could tell you already going to cum.

“jay,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tightly. “im gonna—”

you cut yourself as you began to cum, a little gush of fluid spurting around his fingers and splattering on his sweatpants. he fingered you through it, his cock harder than ever from how hard you’d cum.

“that’s it, baby,” he cooed. “keep squirting around my fingers.”

jake ੈ✩‧₊˚

jake cursed himself for still having the most vivid, dirty sex dreams at his grown age. he woke up in a cold sweat, finding that his room was pitch black dark and you were sleeping soundly beside him, which only made his problem worse.

you looked so pretty when you slept. your face was peaceful, your cheeks slightly pink, your shirt having risen up on its own, exposing a sliver of your stomach. that sliver was turning jake on a hell of a lot more than it should’ve been.

he tossed and turned for a few minutes, genuinely trying to fall back asleep while ignoring how hard he was, ignoring how tight his pants were and how a droplet of precum was trickling down the length of his cock.

he gave it five minutes before giving up and attaching himself to your body. he kissed your neck, hoping that alone would wake you up, but you truly were out like a light.

he laid on his stomach, softly gripping your calves to pull your legs apart. he tugged on the waistband of your sleep shorts and pulled them carefully down your legs, then spread your legs once more, revealing your pussy.

jake felt his cock pulsate just from looking at it, needing it in his mouth immediately or he might’ve just lost his mind.

he didn’t tease, didn’t take his time. he went straight in for it, firmly licking a stripe up from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit.

he moaned at the taste, desperately going back in for a second lick. you shifted a little, slowly beginning to wake up from the feeling of jake eagerly licking your pussy.

“jake,” you muttered, sitting up slightly to see what he was doing.

he barely could even comprehend that you’d woken up, now so entranced in eating your pussy and grinding his cock into the mattress.

you could’ve stopped him. you could’ve told him he could fuck you if that was what he needed, but it was too hot to watch. you were enjoying the sight of him between your legs, humping his cock into the bed, too much.

so you laid back down, shut your eyes, and enjoyed your boyfriend eating you out until you were cumming on his face and he was cumming in his pants.

sunghoon ༊*·˚

how? how were you fast asleep right now when the ac in your apartment was broken and your bedroom was a million degrees?

sunghoon stared at your sleeping form in dismay. he was sweating and unbelievably uncomfortable, stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers, but even then he was still too hot.

you also weren’t wearing much to sleep: a pair of panties and a thin tank top. sunghoon couldn’t help but stare because looking at you and how sexy you looked in your minimal clothing was a distraction from how hot he was.

and as he stared at where your cunt was beneath your panties and your breast that was on the verge of slipping out of your tank top, he got hard. really hard.

an idea came to his head: that if he just jerked off really quick, he’d get tired enough to be able to fall asleep.

so, he pulled his cock out from his boxers and started to stroke himself while staring at you. you’d probably be startled if you were to wake up and see him watching you, but he didn’t care. he wished you were awake to suffer through the heat with him.

a few minutes of jerking his cock off and it wasn’t doing the trick. he needed you, it was as simple as that.

“baby,” he muttered, rubbing your arm. “wake up.”

you shifted slightly and he grabbed your wrist, positioning your hand over his cock.

“please,” he begged, twitching in your limp hand. you couldn’t even wrap your fingers around him, still half asleep. “wake up, y/n. i need you.”

you opened your eyes, frowning when you were met with your own hand wrapped around sunghoon’s cock.

“what are you—”

“please make me cum,” he urged, fucking his hips up into your hand. “i’m gonna go crazy, y/n, please.”

you started to glide your hand up and down his cock, to which sunghoon sighed out in pleasure and relief. it was already feeling 10 times better than when he’d done it.

“fuck,” he moaned. “come here.”

he patted his bare thigh, urging you to sit on it. you moved slowly, still sluggish from sleep, but you straddled his thigh and started humping your pussy against him as your hand worked his cock.

“oh my god,” he groaned, putting his arms behind his head and watching you. “you’re so perfect, baby. so fuckin’ hot.”

you whimpered slightly, your clit rubbing against his thigh just right.

you took a second to let a string of spit trickle out of your mouth and land on the pink tip of his cock, using it as lubrication to easily glide your hand up and down.

squeezing his cock and pushing your cunt against his leg, you were both set up to cum quickly.

sunghoon’s load was big and splattered in ropes all over his warm stomach, while you shook and clenched around his thigh, pussy coming undone on him.

-

ok so im twitching! 💗

thanks for reading :3

[eowynstwin]

confessional offerings / neighbors

previous

On a cold winter's day in the early morning hours, you knock on your neighbor Captain John Price's door to make a noise complaint. - This is not where he meant for this call to go, but he couldn’t complain about the direction if he tried. - ao3

“Hi, love,” he replies. “Where are you? Still at dinner?”

“No, we left. I’m in my hotel room.”

“Good,” John says. He feels his own expression go soft at the sound of your voice, which is sweet and gentle even across miles and distorted by the phone. “I missed you this morning.”

He hears you shift—imagines you laying in bed, in your pajamas after a shower, skin warm and hair still a little damp. He can almost feel it if he imagines it; the rhythm of your breath with his mouth against your neck, his open hands across the soft expanse of your stomach.

He’s never seen your bed, so he has to supply his own in his mind. The idea starts up an ache that’s been building all day.

“Me too,” you say, at a near-whisper. You sound painfully shy.

John smiles. He likes that shyness, likes that you give him the chance to draw you out of it. “You know, if you want to know why I like you, love, all you have to do is ask. I’d tell you if you did.”

You don’t respond for a moment. He doesn’t press. You like that he does that, he’s found, that he gives you time to think. John has no qualms doing that for you; he wants you to feel comfortable with him. 

Finally, in a small voice, “Why do you like me, John?”

“What a question,” he says, unable regardless to keep from teasing. “Where do I even start? You’re putting me on the spot, here.”

“John!” you whinge, and he laughs.

“Hm,” he murmurs. “I like that you’re kind. You never have to spend time with me, but you do. And you’re smart, love, I like that a lot. You guessed I was bored without me saying anything, and did something to help me. I don’t think you know how much that means to me.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m forcing you to read my books. Just so I can have something to talk about with you.”

“If that’s what you think forcing is, I’d like to see what happens when you really try to get something you want.”

You laugh, so he knows from that sound that you know your fear is a little ridiculous. Good—if you really thought that nonsense, you might leave him alone.  

“And I like the way you say my name,” he says, hearing the desire in his own voice. Will that sound scare you? He’s got to show it to you at some point. You need to know how easily you can get him going.

“How do you mean?” you ask. 

“Like it means something to you,” he says. “Not a lot of people call me by my first name, love. And no one says it the way you do.”

“Oh,” you say, small and soft.

“I want to hear you say it more often,” he continues.

“…John,” you say, and it hits him like a lightning strike. His cock throbs suddenly and near-painfully.

His voice lowers, roughens. “Just like that.”

You say it again, still shy, but on a breath that is clear in its arousal. “John.”

This is not where he meant for this call to go, but he couldn’t complain about the direction if he tried. He shifts his legs, tries to convince his growing erection to sit a little more comfortably against his thigh, but does not touch himself. He isn’t there with you, not yet. 

“I like that you give me that, love. You let me have so much. More than you know.”

“I always think that,” you say, passionately. “I never understand. I don’t know why things mean so much to you.”

“Because it’s you,” he says. “There isn’t a lot of…gentleness, or kindness, in my life. And you—that’s all you are. You give me more of it than I’ve ever had. I’m a man starved, and all you ever do is feed me.”

He wants to see your face so badly. He wants to see the little crease that shows up between your brows when you get emotional. He wants to hold you again, feel the weight of your body on his, learn your shape with his hands and mouth. He wants to say all of this, but he doesn’t want to scare you off.

“I haven’t fed you yet,” you say, with a little waver of humor. “You’d remember my cooking.”

John blinks, and then barks a laugh. “Oh, love. I want to devour you.”

You make a little noise, and yes, John is painfully hard now, able to feel the beat of his own blood in his cock against the tight crotch of his pants.

“Is…is that what you’d do?” you ask. “To me?”

“Yes,” he says, letting his voice sink deep into his chest. “For hours, if you’d let me. Sweet girl, I want to spoil you rotten.”

You make a humming sound, high and from the back of your throat. “I didn’t think men really liked that.”

“I’m going to find and kill whoever taught you that,” he promises. “There’s nothing I want more than to get my mouth on you, love.”

“Nothing?” you say, and he grins, recognizing a prompt when he hears one.

“You want me to tell you what else I’d like to do? How I’d like to have you on my cock, drag it out for as long as you can stand? I want you in my bedsheets, pretty girl, making a mess of them because I’m fucking you so good. I want you wrapped around me and holding on so tight, because that’s all you need to do. Because I’m taking care of everything, and all you need to do is take it.”

“John,” you say, shakily.

“Should I stop?”

“I—” you stammer, “I just don’t know how to respond, John. I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell me how that sounds to you,” he purrs. “Be nice to know if you like the idea.”

“…I do,” you say, “a lot, John.” 

And he has to grin at the breathless way you say it. He knows you now—he knows how hard that must have been for you to say. He’s so goddamn proud of you for saying it.

Then, you continue, tentatively, bravely. “What else…what else would you do?”

“Mm. I had some thoughts about that vibrator.”

“No!” you cry, groaning long and disconsolate as he laughs. “No, I thought I’d gotten it, oh, John…”

“It was bright pink,” he says, needling you further.

“You didn’t say anything!” you protest. “Oh, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, love. Were you thinking of me, that night?” he asks, breath shallow in his lungs. “Did you get off with that vibrator between your legs, imagining what I could be doing to you?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, John.”

“Except it wasn’t very good, was it, love?” he continues. “Because it wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted me there, wanted my hands and my mouth and my cock, isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you reply, and it sounds like a whine.

“You can have them,” he promises. “The moment you’re home, I’ll give you everything you want.”

You don’t respond immediately. He doesn’t think he’s pushed too far, this time; rather, he thinks with not a small amount of satisfaction, you might just be recognizing the scope of his offer. 

It’s a moment John always enjoys with potential partners—that quiet, trembling realization that yes, they can ask for anything from him, because he really will give it to them. Because they know that they can rely upon him, that they can trust him. That he wants nothing more than to be someone they can fall into, freed of worry or concern.

“I do want it, John,” you whisper into his ear. “All of it.”

Something uncoils in John’s chest. Appetite, yawning wide, swallowing your confession whole. His balls clench, hard. He wants to see the look on your face. Both when this finally happens—when you give in to him—and right now, as you’re realizing you can. 

John is not one to employ absolutes lightly; he wants to see you now more than he’s ever wanted to see anyone in his life.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he says, hearing a rasp in his voice. “Will you come to see me when you get home, then?”

“I—” you say, sounding breathless. “Yes. I will, John.”

“Good,” he says. “Now do something for me, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“I’m going to let you get back to your evening,” he says, adjusting his hips. “And when you lay down to sleep, I want you to think about me. Think about what I’ll do for you. Because I’ll be thinking about the exact same thing.”

“Yes, John,” you say. There’s a…floaty, far-off quality to your voice. It will not take John very long at all to finish tonight.

“Did you bring your vibrator along with you?” he asks.

“No.”

“Pity,” he says. “I guess we’ll both be using our hands, then.”

“Oh.”

He laughs. “Good night, love. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Good…good night, John.”

He says goodbye again, and ends the call. He lays his phone down and sits back, staring up at the ceiling. The football game is long over, some late night talk show playing now. He turns the TV off.

He’s not sure whether it’s going to be easier now to make it through the next two days—or much, much harder.

next

[purplesoulcollection]

Unnatural Love

Part 8 Synopsis : Name has being transmigrated into the world of I'm Not That Kind Of Talent without ever reading the novel. She's not being reincarnated as a human but as a devil as well. Hi There! I want to let you know that this fanfiction story isn't solely my creation. I borrowed the concept from @quqiwo2. I haven't actually read the novel either, just some spoiler to the end.

I hope you'll excuse my spelling and grammar mistake, because English not my first language.

As soon as Deon came back from his holiday trip I got this news.

Deon has not received the orders to return to the human world yet, so that means this screen gives me time to prepare and do the quest.

I'll have to apply for leave at this rate. There's no way I could just run away. I still have to work here to be with Deon. But the skill I can use to persuade Deon to let me go with him is just...

... I closed my eyes. Dizziness could really kill me right now. To get that skill I have to do it.

But that's for later, now is not the right time. Because now Deon is the referee for the fight. The useless fight for me…

Then Deon returned to his room with a pale face. He immediately lay down on his bed and cover his eyes with his hand. He looks tired.

"What's wrong with you, Deon. You’re not even fighting, right? Aren't you just to be a judge?" That's my reaction seeing the tired Deon eventhough he's not fighting.

"Earlier the impact of the attack almost hurt me, but Ed was the one who helped me."

Mr Ed?! Not surprising at all…

"He is loyal to you. Of course he will put up a body for you."

Silence fell over us before Deon finally started talking.

"You know Adele..." Deon started the conversation in a gloomy tone

"The commander of the 5th Army said that she and her boyfriend wanted to have child and that child were a blessing..."

There is already, his trauma, but this is also an opportunity for me.

I sat next to Deon, lay on top of him and started to bring my face closer to his face.

"Children are indeed a blessing for a couple. But not all couples know how to appreciate the blessings given to them."  I stroked his cheek and he looked at me with wry look, looks like he wanted to cry with all his burden.

"If Deon is willing, would you like one day if we make that blessing?"

After saying that, embarrassment and amusement immediately hit my heart.

'Why? Why do I have to do all this. Why do I have to take on all of this responsibility?  I'm embarrassed myself so badly.'

I bit my lip with my teeth to suppress my overflowing embarrassment and don’t look at him at all.

I quickly got up from my current position, I wanted to forget what happened to me just now. But Deon's hand pulled me until I returned to the previous position, even making my face closer than before and my hand was used as a foundation to support my weight, making my eyes shake and my body stiffen.

So I locked Deon in a lying position. His gaze pierced through me and I don’t really like that intense gaze intended to me…

"Are you sure? Even if you can't have children? Because you're a devil"

Huh, are the devils here infertile?

"No problem. Isn't there such a thing as adoption?"

It's true that I'm not mentally ready to have children now. But if it is possible and can actually happen to adopt, why not?

The plus is that I don't need to conceive and give birth. But I'm also quite curious about women who bear children. A woman who is 9 months pregnant will love her child with all her heart. Maybe I will never get that love.

Then Deon's hand suddenly pressed down on my neck. Made my hand fall and I fell too.

Fell to kiss Deon's lips.

Blank...

All my thoughts broke, for the blink of an eye, I forgot that I was human, the problem of Deon's tragedy, or transmigration. After I woke up from the emptiness, I could only feel a soft but also warm sensation on my lips. Then I started to be surprised, I didn't know whether I could let this go or not, or maybe i also want to indulge it.

But before I could start doing anything there was a knock on Deon's bedroom door.

"Master Demon, you were summoned by the demon king."

And I finally had the courage to break our kiss and I touch my lips that just been kissed, didn’t even believe that this is my moment of my first kiss.

Only then did Deon, with an annoyed face, wake up from his sleep. He scratched his hair with an annoyed and angry expression because he had disturbed this important moment. But I were actually grateful and grateful to have those kiss been disturbed.

I'm not ready to experience my first kiss, but it’s too late. I already got it.

"Let's do that again later! " As soon as he said so he left the room.

What?

What did he just say?

Will you do it again later?

I'm not mentally ready!?!

But even though I wasn't mentally ready, I still checked my Quest screen.

I can complete two Quests at once. Should I be happy or should I be sad?

Maybe it's better if I choose to be happy, yeah??

Yeayy... cried!

"I have to return to the human world." He said that after his meeting with Demon King.

Deon's adventure in the human world is a journey I definitely have to embark with him.

"Deon. Can I come with you?"

He was clearly surprised, because he knew I was a devil, not a human. Besides, why would I want to go with him to the human world which is clearly not my world.

“Why? Don't you want to separate?” He finally glances my way while he's preoccupied with swapping his shirt for a more covered one and his robe. He’s not exposing anything to me, you know?

I actually don't really want to join your adventure, it's just that I have to make sure to prevent any tragedy will happen.

And since I appreciate the reasons given, I'll go ahead and accept it.

“Y-yeah, we're just dating. Why do we have to be apart for that long?”

"But you were fine when I went on holiday, weren't you?"

"You're only going on holiday for a short time, but it's going to be a long one. Can I come along..."

I tried to persuade Deon who didn't quickly agree. Why he’s so slow to only say yes to me? My mission is to save you, you know?

"But you're a devil. How can you come with me without people knowing you're a devil?"

Hearing that question makes me grinning at him, "Don't worry, I already know the solution."

"What, is that new power again?"

"Yes, I got the power to disguise myself as a human." I show him the new ability I’ve retrieved. He looks so impressed with my changes. I haven't had the chance to see my human form yet, not even once.

But his amazement returned back to his dismay. "But your job..."

"I've already applied for leave so it's no problem."

He sighed, that's the sign of my victory.

"Which means we have to go more quietly than usual."

"Just use my abilities." I reminded him.

"Oh yeah, I just remembered you have that ability. Are your invisibility can applied to me?"

"I can manage what becomes transparent, not only my body alone" It's really convenient you know, can make other people transparent too.

"But what will your identity be when you arrive in the human world?"

OH

'Oh no! I really haven't thought about that. What's our relationship in there?, as friend, as a servant? As his whore who only leech his fortune? Or as a married couple even if we're really not? Or as an adopted eventhough I'm the grown woman?'

My messy thought really start thinking out of common sense because of a sudden panic. If i hear my thought when I'm in normal condition, I will expressed my frustration over my own foolishness.

But Deon has his own answer. "Do you want to be my fiancé?"

Fi-fiancé.... T-thats... (Hesitating&Embarassed)

Come On, don't to be so overthinking!!!

Come to my senses... I need a reason to be in the human world, being a friend or servant, or anything i said earlier isn't suitable enough reason to blend in humans world that match Deon as a noble.

The only bond that truly brings a woman and a man closer together is a romantic relationship, whether I like it or not.

In fact, it would be even stranger if we were married. We will being accused of lying.

So fiancé was still better than married. Not official yet but so in love.

So I just said yes in the end. No other option left.

To Be Continued

[pedrisbanana]

Omg maybe a smut where pedri makes reader squirt for the 1st time?

Pedri (and I) really pushed limits this time…

Enjoy 🍌

Oh Pedri…

You were sighing into the soft pillow as you felt your boyfriend remove his fingers from your still sensitive clit.

„Pedri, it's too much...please-„ you moaned, but were interrupted by Pedri's lips on your heated flesh. His tongue was teasing your folds slowly, lapping up the juices from your previous orgasm.

You tried to sit up on your elbows and grab his dark brown hair, pulling him from your middle.

Panting, you pleaded : „Pedri..." He interrupted you, eyes hooded, unbothered by your begging. „One more bonita. You will enjoy it."

Pedri pushed you down into the pillow by your neck, hand traveling down your chest to your waist. His mouth was on your centre again.

You knew he wouldn't give up, so you tried to keep your legs open for him. The sore feeling of his fingers rubbing your flesh, mixed pain into the pleasure he was giving you.

After the fourth round tonight, you stopped counting. Pedri just told you „one more" with every orgasm he gave you. You were definitely going to be sore for a few days after this.

Suddenly you felt him get off you, almost thinking he'd finally have enough of your body, you rolled to the side.

„Tsk. On your back mi hermosa. Now." Pedri didn't look at you. Instead he was focused on coating the tip of his again hard cock with lube.

You took a deep breath, repositioning yourself into the pillows. „Please be gentle will you? I'm already sore" Your voice was merely a whisper.

Pedri gave you a soft smile and traced your cheek with his fingers. You smiled back, leaning into the touch. There was your cute and loving boyfriend again.

„You will take what I will give you mi amor. And afterwards you will thank me like a grateful girlfriend would."

Pedri pulled your hips closer to the edge of the bed. It hurt when he thrust inside of you. Your body was exhausted and Pedri pushed the limits you gave him. And boy did he enjoy it.

His face nuzzled your neck, kissing, biting and licking the soft flesh, finding the already bruised spots from earlier tonight. You moaned his name over and over again, a certain pressure building up in your lower stomach.

But somehow it felt different this time. It didn't feel like the familiar bridge to an orgasm. You felt like you needed to pee, badly and Pedri's hand, which somehow sneaked its way to your clit again, made it worse.

Panicking, you called his name. „Pedri, stop. Pedri!"

Your boyfriend felt your instability and stopped moving. He looked at you. Suddenly the feeling washed away. How embarrassing.

„Pedri ... um.. I..um I think I need to use the bathroom" You couldn't look at him.

He raised his brow and smirked, continuing his earlier actions. You were confused, but soon the pleasure overtook your thoughts again.

A few moments later you felt the pressure again, but this time Pedri waved your pleading away by mumuring a „Just let it go" into your cheek.

You tried to fight the pressure, but Pedri started to thrust harder. Tears started to form in your eyes from the exhaustion. Moving your fingers from his back to his arms, he looked at you and kissed you softly.

Pedri's thrusts started to become sloppy. The pressure became unbearable. When he slipped out and rubbed over your clit with his tip,you couldn't hold it in anymore. You felt the sheets dampening under you.

At the same time your orgasm hit you. Pedri smiled against your lips. „That's it, carino. Squirt all over my cock"

He kissed you roughly, hitting his own peak.

After a few moments of lying next to each other he got up to get you a washcloth.

„You're gonna be sore. I'm sorry." Pedri soflty cleaned you up. „I‘ll change the bedsheet later“

„Are you apologizing for making me squirt? I rather expected something like „that was amazing, definitely gonna tell my teammates about this"" you laughed, post orgasm extasy hitting you.

Pedri kissed you. „Do I look like the type of guy who boasts himself with his sexual perfomance?“

You raised your brow at him.

„Okay. Maybe I‘ll tell Gavi about it, next time he brags about his performance“ Pedri winked.

A/N: Let me know if you liked this & keep the requests coming babes <3

[kachawo]

What if Wei Ying turned out different? What if he had gone through much worse as a homeless child?

Heaven knows what his life was like before Jiang Fengmian found him, but it surely wasn't friendly. What if that changed him so much? The trauma ingraining itself into his brain that it becomes his main source of survival?

Yiling was a badly managed town, even the children saw that. And among the cultivation sects, none were really keen on investing their time and materials on withered soil, especially the nearest jurisdictions of Qishan Wen and Yunmeng Jiang.

That's why in Yiling, everything tagged crime can be stashed away, hidden into, escaped out of. Sects turn a blind eye to it, hell, even the previous Baron of the land didn't bother reclaiming Yiling because of its high crime rate.

It built itself up by blood money and fear, and with the Burial Mounds so close in vicinity it was much worse.

Anything and everything illegal was practically spoiled culture there.

Especially,

Especially slave traders, especially human trafficking. There was no authority to call upon, no one strong enough of a will to stop it. And so whenever Yiling hears the heart-dropping sound of golden bells chiming, the heavy hooves of a bull that carries with it a large wooden cage. They do nothing.

They can do nothing.

And there goes A-Ying, freshly orphaned, still getting a hang of wandering around the streets he would have to call his new home.

The first time it happened, his face got too close to the torch while he panicked. The large men and their ropes scared him too much and he wanted them to let go let go let go-

They didn't like how he moved around too much and tightened the noose around his neck, A-Ying suddenly couldn't breathe. He felt the bones of his weak throat cave on itself and it hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurt so bad. It made him thrash around the cage widely, using his remaining air to scream so violently that would have guaranteed his broken throat.

In his panic attack he hit his head on the splintered pole used as a torch on the corner of the cage they threw him in.

A-Ying didn't think he had the strength to scream about it, but apparently he did. He realized later that the graining sound against his ears were his blood-curdling cries, and that he couldn't feel the left side of his head.

They never took him, in the end. The slave traders complained loudly that he damaged himself and would be of no value. The large man who tied him up, held him by his hair and threw him out of the cage.

After that it was black.

You'd think that after that experience, Wei Ying would have known how to escape people like these then.

He should have died. He should have died a long time ago. When the slave traders lured him in with promise of a meal, when a drunk man mistook him for someone else and beat him with shattered wine jars, when a cultivator feigned kindness and Wei Ying took his hand--

A-Ying should have died when he was 5 when-

Wei Ying should have died when he was 7 when-

When-

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Someone stop it STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPSTOPSTOP

He can't be blamed! He can't deal with it! The ringing in his head has made itself a home in his head a long time ago and at that point its been a part of his life.

He's half-blind, half-dying, half a body, full of scars.

Wei Ying can't be blamed.

So when a man comes to him, on a cold winter night calling his name-- he can't be blamed.

(That was used on him several times, several ways, at this point the whole world knows his name. Maybe they were never addressing him really? And it's just so his foolish brain responded to every call hoping it was a-niang or baba who came back to get him.--

Hoping. He was hoping. Such a silly thing to do these days.)

The man wore purple robes, was surrounded by many people with purple robes. One of them approached when he didn't respond.

Wei Ying was 11 by now, 12 almost, he couldn't be blamed.

The robes were different-- a dark royal hue, but it was the same color of the- the same- and the man was approaching him too quickly he-

A child was never supposed to go through this pain. Wei Ying wouldn't know this, but he couldn't be blamed. A small tooth-dagger was plunged into the cultivator's abdomen and the man shrieked--- he couldn't be blamed.

He ran and ran and ran, the man who called his name ran after. His feet didn't acquaint well with the cold solid ground, it burned his skin ironically, but he ran with only fear to power him.

The man grabbed him by the shoulder and said his name again-- Wei Ying couldn't hear anything amongst the rapid beating of his own heart. Couldn't see quite clearly, couldn't think quite straight, he feared.

Wei Ying couldn't have been blamed. When carriage wheels screeched to a halt but it was too late-- and the man in purple had to let go of him one way or another.

He didn't stay too long to see what happened to him. He just ran and ran and ran.

Until there was no ground to run on. Until Yiling was no longer seen. Until he felt the last of his breath stolen from him.

Wei Ying falls falls fall-

His eyes close on their own, they can't be blamed.

[spikedsoul]

maid's worst nightmare - ch 12

yup, already back with another chapter! this one was eating at my brain so here it is lmaoo y'all enjoy

previous chapters

"Gonna have to be more specific, little lady. Didn't ya like the pillow barrier?" Bowser grinned. It really rubbed you the wrong way that he was trying to play dumb given what you told him last night, but you kept your anger in check.

No sense getting angry if there wasn't a real need to. You could always get angry later.

"First, I thought you were just complaining about wanting to sleep more, but more importantly: I left you on the couch last night for a reason. Why the fuck didn't you just swap us if you wanted your bed so badly?" you hissed, jabbing him in the chest with an index finger.

He swatted your hand away idly while keeping eye contact with you. "You don't remember?" he asked; his grin fell a little, a more serious look entering his eye. You shook your head no, uneasiness settling deep in your stomach. He dragged a hand down his face and rolled onto his back with a deep, heavy sigh. After a moment of staring up at the ceiling, he looked at you; you practically shriveled under the weight of the pity in his eyes.

You once again averted your gaze from him. Uncomfortable feelings were starting to surface, remnants of your nightmare you'd forgotten.

"Lady, you were so deep in a night terror that you wouldn't shut up until I got in the bed with you. But you also wouldn't let me near you, so I compromised… you settled down once I had the pillows in place. Once I was here, but not too close. Kinda surprised your voice ain't shot, honestly." He spoke a little quieter than usual, like something bad would happen if he was too loud.

You hugged yourself tightly. Oh. He was with you because of you… yeah, you were glad you didn't get mad immediately.

"Sorry," you said quietly, "I didn't mean to wake you. Um… thanks for trying to help even if I don't remember." Or deserved it, but you kept that thought to yourself.

Bowser snorted quietly and rolled onto his other side, reaching for something on the bedside table. You glanced at him - it finally sunk in what seemed so different.

"You got some deep issues, huh. Yelling about death and not wantin' to be hit anymore…" he grumbled as you gawked at his back. "At any rate, Kamek brought something for your skin." He blinked when he turned back to hand you a tube of something. "Uh… you good, maid?"

"Didn't you have a shell?"

"Oh so now you wanna talk about that, huh." He pressed the tube at you more insistently, but you were too distracted to properly grab it despite bringing your hands up.

Your eyes swept past him to the far wall, where sure enough his green shell rested against the wall. So that's how he got clothes on… but wait, the shell was definitely missing the formidable spikes you knew you'd seen. Where were they? Surely not still on his back, or else he wouldn't be able to lay down, right? Or was that what the odd patterning was?

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted when something moving in your peripherals made you flinch; before even properly registering what it was, you ducked your head down and covered your face, and then peeked at Bowser. He had a hand reached out toward you, a finger outstretched with a suspicious pink substance on the tip of it.

"Shit," he whispered. Immediately, though, he cleared his throat and said more loudly, "It's just lotion, little lady. Gotta keep your cheeks and hands moisturized until your skin heals from the cold."

You slowly lowered your hands and willed your heart to calm down as you looked properly at the offered dollop of lotion. "Were you going to put that on my face yourself?" you mumbled, swiping it off his finger.

"Yeah, since you seemed so enthralled by my shell over there. Don't forget your hands." Bowser settled on his stomach but he kept his eyes on you - you could feel his burning gaze as your own eyes swept over his exposed back. You made sure to carefully rub the lotion in before he felt the need to try again on his own.

Curiously, the missing spikes from the shell were laying relatively flat on Bowser's beautiful back with rows of scutes running down between them. It sort of reminded you how a pufferfish's spines laid flat when it was relaxed but puffed out when it felt threatened. Was Bowser the same? Was he able to "puff" his spikes out at will?

You briefly caught his eye, and without a word he shifted more onto his side, arched his back toward you a little, and answered your unasked question: the spikes stuck out from his back when he flexed. Well, the ones close to the bed didn't quite stick out all the way because of the interference, but you got the idea. Your eyes flicked to his shell and your brain put it together that once his shell was on, the spikes remained in position and supported the shell with little effort. It was honestly rather fascinating.

"So - if I just grabbed only one of them-" With a totally new topic to think about besides the mortifying night terror incident, you practically jumped on this mystifying thought, grabbing an individual spike to carefully move it. At the same time, your free hand easily slipped between the large spines to feel his scutes.

Bowser jumped at the sudden touch and the spikes deflated (except for the one in your hand). "Hey!" he hissed, "A little warning next time!"

"Not so fun when the tables are turned, right?" You wiggled the one gently, smirking to yourself, definitely taking note that his back seemed to be sensitive.

As you reached for a second one, though, his tail came up and knocked your arms away. He was quick to sit up and face you, fangs bared in a snarl.

"Don't be a hypocrite, handmaid. I'm not teasing you anymore, physically, so I expect the same courtesy!" he snapped.

Immediately, your cheeks warmed and you looked down. The miserable feeling from waking up was quickly creeping back - he was right. You didn't trust your voice not to break, so you just nodded quietly. When you heard him shift, though, your head snapped back up.

To your dismay, he was getting closer to you, scowling. You didn't have any time to move before he'd hooked a finger into the pocket of the pants you were wearing, effectively pinning you in place. The only way you could get more space was laying back, but Bowser just leaned right over you to intentionally invade your space, forearm resting by your head and nose hovering just inches from yours to keep you from turning your head. Your heart started to beat quicker but not in a good way.

"Don't look away," he growled as he stared unblinkingly down at you. You nodded, staring back at him in total fear. "This shell thing is a secret only my family knows, so I expect it to stay that way, got it?" Again, you nodded, and curiously your initial fear began to subside. It was a struggle to keep eye contact still, but you did your best as he continued on, "Now, I'm sure you've been wondering why I stole you, huh?"

"Uh-huh." You couldn't help it - although your head was essentially held in place, your eyes flicked off to the side to see if his spines were sticking up.

Bowser lightly tugged upward on your pocket, forcing your eyes to snap back to his. "I said pay attention, lady. You're here because–"

The door suddenly slammed open, bouncing off the wall and shuddering on its hinges from the force. "DAD!" a voice bellowed.

Both you and Bowser whipped your heads around in total shock to see a blue-haired Koopaling standing in the doorway; he looked like a deer in headlights as he looked at the two of you. It only took you a fraction of a second to realize why: he'd caught you both in a rather compromising position, with Bowser over you and a finger in your pocket like he was a split second away from pulling your pants down.

Death. Death would be easier and less humiliating than this.

[woodsfae]

B5 s03e08 Messages From Earth table of contents • previous episode

We open on some morning military grousing, and a secret note and delivery from a chef! And it's real bacon and eggs from Marcus, because she helped him get an id card. And she said "Surprise me!" That's cute. What a rascal, casually able to arrange for highly perishable foods to be shipped out to B5 before they spoil. I wonder if he just liberated some senator or ambassador's expensive export shipment. Faked it spoiling or something.

And switch to Marcus, who is involved with shenanigans! Er, an actual fight through some narrow rooms and corridors! Hope he doesn't suddenly have a corpse on his hands. Disposing of a body on a space station isn't the easiest thing in the world.

Maybe we'll get G'Kar and Delenn back this episode? I would also like to see Na'Toth, if she hasn't died and I missed it, like I missed Ko'Dath's!

Last episode a Ranger or some sort of intelligence contact told Marcus things were up on earth and any Rangers in the area should move away from Earth for awhile, and now in this episode, there's speculation about President Clark having been involved with the deceased president's assassination.

Love seeing G'Kar! Boo prison. And good for Garibaldi for visiting him. I hope Garibaldi has been actually learning Narn. And he says he's trying although he wishes there was a translation! G'Kar says the Book of G'Quan cannot be translated and must be read in its mother tongue. Good for Garibaldi. He's been earning a lot of Conditional Brownie Points lately for good behavior. I appreciate the check-in with G'Kar. Hopefully he's making lots of progress in his telepathy while he's in the slammer.

G'Kar is using his prison sentence to meditate and write a book. Very productive! I bet the book will be a banger. Or perhaps is actually secret intelligence he's gathering with his new telepathy! Also, what a drama llama, fading back into the shadows when Garibaldi asks to read it. "When it is done…" *fades into shadow* I don't think it was meant to indicate a leaning towards The Shadows, though.

Garibaldi got a message about a package. The same one Marcus was expecting "in a week" last episode, perchance?

The package is, as I suspected, a person. Dr Mary Kirkish. She's on several hit lists. And I think Sinclair sent her? What a funny pan down the table at really awkward angles for every single one of their faces. The assembly of senior Rangers (?) plus Dr Kirkish the archaeologist.

Her team discovered an artifact at least a thousand years old buried on Mars. A Shadows' ship, in fact! And Earthdome says they've never seen ships like the one Sheridan released hyperspace footage of. Dr Kirkish says they must be lying, because she personally discovered one. Almost everyone who knew about the ship on Mars is dead or missing! The Shadows must have been building strength all over the galaxy for a long time. Someone touched the ship and he died instantly. Earthdome came and went, then a Shadows ship came and dug up the buried one. More confirmation that being in the physical presence of the Shadows feels wrongbad on an instinctual level, and triggers fear and loathing whether seen, heard, or in close physical proximity. It seems like even recordings of the shadows has that effect to some extent. I wonder how they shield their allies from it. Morden didn't seem to be badly effected by a fear/loathing aura when there were some in his holding cell with him.

Delenn is taking Dr Kirkish under her protection, it seems. Lennier swoops her away to safety. The Minbari probably do have better security than the humans can manage. So far it seems like they're probably less likely to work with the Shadows than humankind, too. Since they have historical and religious teachings of mortal enmity about the Shadows.

Zack Allen gets even more opportunities to be a collaborating bootlicker on screen! Joy.

Delenn going to John Sheridan quietly, alone, in the dark, asking if he's sure he wants to go through with something. With…?? I kinda wonder if they'll randomly get married like this, with very little on-screen buildup.

I must have missed some information earlier, because I didn't know Earthdome had any access to the crashed, 1,000 year old Shadow ship. But Sheridan and Delenn want to go through Earth's defense grid, go to the Shadow ship while evading all of Earth's defenses, and destroy the Shadow ship before President Clark can get his corrupt and fascist hands on it.

Dang, what an escalation! Acting directly against Earth, while trying to hide it! Dr Franklin will fake Sheridan, Delenn, and Lennier's deaths if they fail! Or they also might die! Damn. High stakes. I love how this show has huge leaps of plot when I'm least expecting it.

Delenn and John are being cute on the bridge of the White Star, as they should be.

Some Earthforce fascist is telling the Night Watch that Earth Dome is going to start making arrests of disloyal people within two months. He's demanding the Night's Watch start higher and more invasive levels of investigations into and volume of reporting people. Here's Zack Allen's latest moral checkpoint to fail! And they want to know if any of their informants know where the captain is! So they've already sussed him being perhaps away? Or they dislike that he frequently keeps his whereabouts confidential?

It's pretty cute that Sheridan is an argumentative person, until faced with Lennier's gentle logic. Lennier is right, Sheridan should get some rest. But I also don't know how the Minbari sleep SO vertically. There's comfortable slant, and then there's a whole forty-five degree angle!!

Cute little bedtime confidences being shared here! On smaller than twin-sized 45 degree angled meditation tables. Sheridan's adorable story of his dad standing outside in the wee hours of the morning spraying the hose on the roof so John could get some rest the night before a big test still seems more comfortable and sleepier than these Minbari beds.

Hah! He's so blown away by the idea that you can ask a smart speaker to play rain sounds. But also, what an intimate little hand hold across the void between their uncomfortable tables. Delenn is gonna love human beds once she adapts to the cultural difference. Or at least I hope she does! Get a comfy night's sleep, girl.

John has been sharing personal tidbits with Delenn, but she tends to share about herself but describing what Minbari in general do. I have my fingers crossed for her opening up about her past to some degree. She is open, and does share what she currently feels with those she trusts, but she really does not talk about her past at all. iirc, at this point we've only seen her past in flashbacks, and not through her own words at all.

This is a highly productive fight Susan and Marcus are having. Let's honestly say our feelings at each other at a relatively high volume, but not really shout!

Dang, that Shadows ship is not fucking around. It absorbed an EarthDome person, went insane, and started destroying everything around it. Is there another isolated jump gate they can destroy it with?

The bootleg videos of this are gonna spark so many conspiracy theories, lol.

Lennier's getting sassy in the face of near-certain death by Jupiter-crumpling! But Sheridan has a stressful MO of only winning unwinnable fights by barely surviving an overwhelmingly destructive force.

They're being accosted by Sheridan's old ship, the Agamemnon! Is the White Star large enough to carry its own jumpgate? Lol, I'm perfectly in time with the plot being revealed. They're gonna try to escape with only a little explosion caused by them activating the jump engine. Is the Agamemnon going to follow them through somehow? Seems…not?

I like that Delenn and John are both suggesting batshit insane and unhingedly dangerous plans now. And that they support each other in this highly risky behavior! I wanna see what they goad each other to do. They really seem to bring out "limits? What the fuck is that?" sort of attitudes in each other.

Zack Allen's wobbly moral backbone continues to be bendy as fuck. And the Night's Watch leaders really want to know why Sheridan's quarters haven't been accessed in four days. He and Delenn should just claim he was at her place if it ever comes up.

Zack Allen just kinda sorta took a moral stand! He refused to snoop on Sheridan, and got quite a scolding for it. It's so pathetic I can't even say well done Mr Allen. It's the most he's done, and it's so piddling. You gotta start somewhere, though. Choose to be better, then keep choosing. I'll applaud him if he keeps choosing to be better instead of diving headfirst down the fascism slide.

Of course Earth is using the Shadows ship getting away from them and the White Star's incursion as an excuse for more fascism. They would use absolutely anything that happened as an excuse. I really hope there's a ton of videos of the EarthDome and Shadows events and the destruction afterwards floating around on the 24th century thepiratebay equivalent.

Dang! A lot happened this episode! It was really a huge escalation for them to take the White Star up against Earth Dome directly. So far they've had huge successes when going out in the White Star to do stuff, and I wonder if that means they're going to start taking some losses and failing at some of their missions. Things have been going a little too well for them lately. And that concerns me!

next!

[thebiscuiteternal]

I posted ancient fanart, now time for an ancient fic. I wrote this one in... hell, I'm not even sure. Before 2008 at least.

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, internal ableism, the constant feeling of the sword hanging over your head

----------------

He'd always heard that the closer you were shoved to death, the sharper everything in that moment seemed, but he'd never really put any stock in it. But now, as he stared vacantly up at the ceiling of the hospital room, he was rethinking that disbelief.

The heat of the explosion shockwave, the wood and glass burrowing into his back as he hit the window, the sense of knowing he was going to die as he hit the ground and felt bone snap and muscle tear in a blinding flash of agony.

A sudden sharp twinge of pain between his shoulderblades made him want so badly to roll over onto his side, but the casts and bars around and through almost all of his body were having none of it.

He hadn't seen anyone but doctors and nurses since he'd woken up six hours previous, and, to his annoyance, they had no interest in telling him a damn thing other than it had been almost a month since he'd been brought in. It wasn't a bad thing for him to want to know how serious the damage was, especially since-

-no, he wasn't going to think about that. Or so he told himself. Despite his efforts at forcing down the voices that brushed his semi-conscious memories, they insisted on being heard again.

He's as good as dead. Just leave him.

Iscariot didn't believe in no man left behind. He'd known that since the day he took his vows to join the order. But still, the memory made something in his chest constrict, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled to keep his breathing even. The slower and more shallow, the less it hurt. Morphine could only do so much.

He'd just recovered control of his nerves when the click of the door opening made him glance over, expecting another nurse, and he blinked in surprise when Father Renaldo poked his head in. "Ah, you're still awake. They finally told me it was alright to come in. How are you feeling?"

Only the knowledge that it would cause unimaginable pain kept him from snorting at the obviousness of the question. "Have they given you any details?" he finally managed, voice more hollow and weak than he would have liked. And the uncomfortable fidget the older man made was a sign that he would like the answer even less.

"Well… it's quite the laundry list, my boy. Concussion, broken collarbone, four broken ribs… Right elbow's cracked, left forearm's broken. Various bruises and contusions, left leg broken in three places…"

There was something else, and they both knew he was skirting. "Anything more?"

Renaldo took a deep breath, and a wash of fear went through him. "I'm sorry, Enrico," the man mumbled, then quietly left.

---

Shattered vertebrae and a severed spinal cord. He stared silently as the doctor finally gave him the truth that Renaldo hadn't been able to bring himself to say.

"Meaning-?" he couldn't help asking after swallowing back the sudden dry feeling in his mouth.

"There are therapy options, of course, and we could try surgery if you wish, but it's very likely that you won't be able to use your legs for the rest of your life."

He felt his stomach drop as the doctor got up from his seat and left, and he suddenly wanted to throw up.

Paralysis.

God, was there ever any more obvious death sentence? Biting his lip and covering his eyes with his good hand, he tried to pretend he couldn't hear the familiar, if muffled, voices outside his door.

"Have you gone soft? He's a liability now, we can't keep him. Especially not in that position."

"I know that, Alex, but we have no choice at the moment. No one was expecting this, and we don't have anyone trained enough to replace him."

Now he really was going to throw up.

---

Everyone knew their days were numbered when they went into the order. After all, there was no such thing as demotion or resignation in Iscariot. You either lived, died, or someone else chose which one for you. And now the choice was up to everyone else and how long he was useful.

A painfully sobering thought when he'd spent the majority of his life trying to wrest control of it away from others.

Sighing, Enrico opened one of the many folders he'd been brought and started on yet another sheaf of paperwork.

When he thought about it, really, he probably had a few months at the most. For all Renaldo had talked about training, making assignments and filling out forms wasn't that hard.

He'd probably be dead within the year, and someone else would be doing this.

That didn't mean he had to give them additional reason to kill him sooner, though. Despite the protests of the therapists and his own body, he was getting to a point that he could be mostly self-sufficient. With any luck, he wouldn't have to ask for any special modifications at all, although making do would be considerably difficult.

Just the thought of having to sleep in his old bed alone made his spine –what he could feel of it- ache, and he inwardly swore about the common habit of higher beds before turning his attention back to the papers in his lap.

Right, time to stop thinking too much. Back to work.

As he was working on the last authorization notice –and trying desperately not to fall asleep in the middle of it- he glanced up as voices started up –as usual- outside the door. But this time, the conversation was a little more interesting than talk of medications.

“Well, Father, it looks like he’ll be ready to leave today. I have to admit, he’s been quite the surprise. It’s not often we get someone so gung-ho about therapy so soon after their accident.”

“He’s always been headstrong.”

He inwardly bristled at the tone and bit his tongue to keep from muttering something particularly insulting about Anderson’s heritage. Or at least more insulting than what people said about his own. Whether the man heard it or not, it wouldn’t exactly go far towards his inner resolution to earn temporary respite from his execution through good behavior.

Forcing himself to keep quiet, he went back to work, and was finishing the last page when the man came in.

“Ready to go?”

“Sure,” he replied, matching the lack of emotion as he closed the folder and put it on the stack, then swatted off the cursory attempt to help him as he wrestled himself into the wheelchair. It hurt, and he was exhausted by the effort, but he reminded himself that the less he asked for help, the less nuisance he’d be.

And was that the barest hint of approval he saw on his former mentor’s face?

Probably his imagination, but it made him feel better nonetheless.

---

“Are the itineraries ready, sir?”

“There aren’t any.”

Renaldo glanced up, a slight note of surprise in his expression. “Might I ask why?”

“Because they’re useless,” Enrico replied, tone a little more exasperated than the carefully cultivated vacancy that had been in place over the last months. “I can give them all the directions I want, and the papers will have been thrown away before they even leave the building. It’s less a waste of my time just to point them in the right direction, let them do what they please, and just clean up the mess afterwards, considering it seems that’s all I spend my time doing anyway.”

He briefly regretted the brief outburst when the man arched an eyebrow at him, but the only response was a slight pat to the shoulder. “I understand, sir. Do you want me to handle the debriefing today?”

“No… I’ll do it.”

So he’d said, but as he pushed himself down the hall, he felt physically and emotionally drained.

While forcing himself to stop thinking –as much as he could, anyway- about when the proverbial axe would fall had helped, other worries and realizations had risen up to take its place.

Enrico spent more time these days than he would have liked remembering the man he’d taken this position from in the traditional way. How he’d been smiling as he bled to death.

Was it because the old man had finally been burned out by the same lessons that were being learned now?

Like the fact that Iscariot neither needed, nor wanted a leader, just someone to handle the fallout.

Or the fact that agents only behaved once you’d broken down and did things their way.

He wished his mind hadn’t gone that route, because then it followed that line of thinking to Anderson. The man had been considerably less of a stubborn ass since he’d gotten out of the hospital.

Since he’d stopped trying to take control.

He couldn’t help a bitter little chuckle, but didn’t want to keep going on that train of thought. Shaking his head a little, he forced himself to continue on his way down the hall.

---

His nerves prickled just before he felt the blade at his throat, and he barely lifted his head. “I’m assuming you’ve found a replacement.”

They both knew it wasn’t a question, but an answer –question- came anyway in the form of a small nick of pain and Anderson’s familiar rumble. “You knew this was coming?”

Despite himself, Enrico laughed, the sound hollow in his own ears. “Don't act so surprised. I’ve known since you told the other agents to leave me behind at the church, so I suppose it’s fitting that they picked you to finish the job.”

There was a huff from behind him, and the blade vanished as he looked over his shoulder then turned the chair, unable to keep himself from inwardly being amused at the expression on his caretaker his mentor the other priest's face. “What’s wrong? Don’t want to kill me now that you know I’ve been preparing myself for it?”

“I don’t want to kill you at all.”

“Don’t lie to me now, Father. You were the one who was so eager to get rid of the liability to the organization.”

“It’s because you’re a liability that-“

“What?” he asked when Anderson cut himself off mid-snap and turned away.

As always.

A small spark of anger rose in his chest, and he couldn’t resist throwing the man’s words from months before back at him, goading him. “Have you gone soft? Can’t kill me now that I’m not screaming back at you at every opportunity? Now that I’ve learned to just give in?”

The look that got was mixed irritation and pity and something he couldn’t identify, and the older man crouched in front of him, touching his cheek with the same almost -not quite- affection that had been there when he was small and vanished as he got older. “Is that what you think I’ve been trying to teach you?”

His insides went cold for some reason he couldn’t explain, and he suddenly wished he could squirm away. “Isn’t it? You were always such a pain until I stopped fighting you and always talking about how I had no right to be angry at-“

“I never said you had no right to be angry at your parents,” Anderson chided, leaving him suddenly feeling uneasy and unbalanced and confused as though he were six again. “Anyone who was abandoned as you are would feel angry. I told you that you couldn’t stay angry at the-“

“It’s the same thing!”

There was a small ringing noise as the bayonet hit the floor, and hands squeezed his shoulders. “It’s not. Enrico, I wanted you to learn to grow past your rage. To be something that wouldn’t require it to sustain you.” He pulled away and straightened. “You never should have been in Iscariot in the first place, because you didn’t have the right reasons for it.”

“Then why let me get this far? If you never wanted to let me in this position, or be here at all, why didn’t you just kill me in the trials. It would have been easy for you.”

“Maybe physically.” There was that look again, the one that he wasn’t sure what it meant. “I never enjoy having to kill someone I raised. And I still hoped that one day, you would finally get it. That it wouldn’t come to the point that you would be a danger to the organization.”

“I wasn-“

“You were.” The certainty in Anderson's voice stung. “All that ambition and rage, eventually it would have caused more problems than you were worth. The signs were all there.”

And then the incident. And then he’d been broken. So many ‘and thens’ that set up what he was now, which was apparently what Anderson had wanted to be, even if not for the reasons he’d thought.

He swallowed past the knot that had formed in his throat. “But it doesn’t matter, because you’re going to kill me now anyway. There’s no such thing as resignation, remember?”

“I know.”

But Anderson didn’t pick up the bayonet he'd dropped, and Enrico made a noise of surprised confusion as he was lifted out of the wheelchair instead. “What are you-“

“Hush.”

Startled into silence, he bit his lip, and wondered where they were going as Anderson carried him down the hall.

---

This hadn’t been planned, he reminded himself as he looked about the tiny bedroom apartment, and that fact somewhat impressed him.

In just a few short days, Renaldo had gotten him declared dead with no body or blood to prove it, and his replacement had been instated with no problems at all. In less than that, Heinkel had found this little apartment and arranged for its rent and utilities to be covered before Anderson had even brought him here.

He would be earning them, of course. Renaldo’s mind was still sharp, but his eyes were continually going, and who better to read important documents to him than someone who had experience and nothing better to do?

He wouldn’t be allowed to leave the apartment either, to keep his continued existence hidden, but what reason did he have to?

He could do this, he told himself. A quiet little life was better than no life at all, right? He’d been expecting to have his throat slit and his body to be left for the cleanup crew, so this wasn’t so bad… right?

Pushing himself over to the window, he peered out.

At least the view was nice…

A hand settled at the back of his neck, and he glanced up at Anderson before basking in the reassuring squeeze.

In a twisted sort of way, he’d finally gotten the two things he wanted the most, a family and the approval of his mentor.

He could be content with the way everything else had turned out.

Really.

He just had to keep reminding himself of that when the walls of the apartment seemed far too close.

[godsfavdarling]

august 2024 book wrap up

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer ☆☆☆☆☆

Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor ☆☆☆☆☆

People We Meet On Vacation by Emily Henry ☆☆☆☆

Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid ☆☆☆☆

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn ☆☆☆☆☆

Once Upon a Broken Heart by Stephanie Garber ☆☆☆☆

I'm actually extremely surprised by how much I've read this month, given it literally feels like it sipped away like a bottle of wine. How is it already over? Probably, it feels that way because of my internship, which made me almost end it all, and Taylor's concert that I didn't even have time to get depressed about. And then suddenly, summer's nearly done. I hate how it always ends so quickly.

Anyway...

First, I read Twilight. I was obsessed with it about 12-14 years ago, but that was before my huge reading phase. Back in junior high, I was obsessed with everything vampire-related except for books (though I did read The Vampire Diaries at some point). I vividly remember sitting in a school corridor with my friend, who was reading Twilight, and me just sitting next to her, occasionally glancing at the book (I hated reading back then). Before the final movies came out, my mom bought me Breaking Dawn, so I read that (yes, without reading the previous parts. I was 12, okay?). So, I had to catch up. After watching all the movies (while making friendship bracelets), I downloaded those bad boys to my eBook, and I am obsessed. I knew I would be. Is it kind of dumb? Yeah. Do I care? Not at all. 5/5. Bella is so real. I need Edward badly. That’s all I have to say.

Daughter of Smoke and Bone - I’ve had a copy since I was like 12. I read it back then, but all I remember is not understanding much and a scene towards the end that broke me as a young girl. For some reason, I never continued. I had to go back and reread it because I was curious about what affected me so much. Now I know. I will continue the series. It’s a solid YA novel. I’m not surprised I didn’t get it at the time; I don’t think I had the imagination or brain power to comprehend it, even though it’s YA. It seems very different and unique compared to other things in this genre. Also, I love Prague as a setting. It’s not far from me and has similar architecture to where I’m from, so it was easy for me to visualize everything. Love it.

People We Meet On Vacation isn’t my favorite Emily Henry book. Still good, just not my favorite. I think her books hit harder when you can relate, and I am nothing like the main girl. Alex, though, is very much like me. I love friends-to-lovers stories, and this one was very well done. Unfortunately, every time I read Emily Henry, I get extremely sad for a while because this will never be me. I will be alone forever. Not relatable content, unfortunately.

Malibu Rising was okay. So much drama. Taylor Jenkins Reid writes her books as if she has already signed a movie contract, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. Some things are meant to be books, and some are meant to be movies. This feels like it’s supposed to be a movie. If you’re writing a book, make it worth being a book. I don’t know if anyone understands what I mean. At the end of the day, it was solid. I liked it. (I started reading it on the 27th of August, which was really weird. I got scared. I didn’t know before.)

I finally finished Sharp Objects. I started reading it in July, and I just wasn’t in the mood, but I wanted to finish it before summer ended. I don’t have much to say. I liked it a lot. I watched the show when it first came out, but I don’t remember much, so I’m rewatching it now. I still kind of saw everything coming, but I didn’t mind. It’s a great weird-girl book classic. As a fellow woman with a complicated relationship with her mother, who feels depraved and disgusting and maybe has a drinking problem, I felt quite seen.

Once Upon a Broken Heart was cute! Was it the best thing I ever read? No, but I loved the vibes and Evangeline. I know people complain about her naivety, but I actually enjoyed it. I’m tired of all the fantasy female main characters being the same. It was a nice change to follow a character who is honestly just a girl who believes in fairy tales. I will be continuing the series.

this is my first time including a photo because I have more physical copies. I usually read on my ebook. Also, if you were wondering about those weird words, the titles are in Polish.

my other wrap-ups, my goodreads

[izayoichan]

He wandered around the room, only snapped out of the whirling thought pattern when one of their cups suddenly hit the ground and he saw them, the wings. The same wings he had given his avatar back then were actually a thing. He had to get out, he couldn’t stay, he was about to turn into a dragon, and then this entire house would be a mess. To not alert Flynn he grabbed his phone, sending him a very badly typed message that he was just taking a walk, and without waiting for an answer, he fled out the back door.

Arlene: What?

River shook his head, focusing back on what he was doing. It was such an odd sensation, a tug, like he needed to be somewhere, and he could sense, although lightly because of the distance, stress and fear from the heartlight.

River: Nothing, sorry, let's focus on this.

It was a bigger operation, both him and his mom were here to help with the horse, and as worried as he was about what he was feeling, he had to finish it before he checked it out. The big Ardenner was a three person job, without a doubt.

How he had got where he was, he wasn’t actually sure about, he was just here, at the park that River had shown him some weeks ago, maybe it was because he knew it was well hidden and River had said no one really ever came there. Sighing he started walking back and forth as anxiety and fear slowly took over. What would River think, he already had a son, and this would be a dragon, it was an egg! Wiping away some tears, he just kept walking, as his mind dwelled ever deeper into what mess this could be.

Beginning - Previous - Next

[mrcrowblargs]

Finished Astarion's personal quest and whoof. I need to lie down. It was so good. I wanna give him such a big hug. But I suppose asking for a kiss works.

Spoilers under the cut, but I will leave a protip: if you bring the Daylight spell into the big boss fight, DO NOT cast it as a sphere! Cast it on a weapon and stow the weapon after the fight. It'll save you some trouble.

So I definitely overprepared going into the Szarr Palace. I already had respecced Gale as a Knowledge Cleric and Shadowheart as a War Cleric so I brought them both along because of course you're going to encounter undead vampires in a fucking vampire den. I think entering the palace was supposed to feel a little too easy since Cazador wanted Astarion there anyway. But they wrecked everything.

Astarion, you are a fucking rogue... why are you running in for an unarmed attack... AND GETTING CAPTURED I was not happy about losing him for the first round but luckily getting Aylin out of drama meant I knew exactly what to do for Astarion.

The fight didn't go too badly, I cast Daylight smack in the middle of the area because I didn't want to fry the suspended spawn. But then the cutscenes after felt... abrupt and lacking. And I didn't get Cazador's staff needed to free the prisoners. Looked it up online and turned out having Daylight present makes the spawn flee as soon as they are freed oops. So I had to redo the fight.

And honestly, I was glad I redid it. It was a little more chaotic but the double cleric team worked GREAT. Turns out the spawn aren't affected by daylight while suspended so I was able to cover more of the field instead of giving Cazador corners to hide in. 2x Spirit Guardians to clear out the GODDAMN BATS. 2x Spiritual Weapon to camp on the ritual spots and deny Cazador his boons. Honestly having two clerics is just great. Casting the Heroic Feast or whatever beforehand was also a great move.

And best of all? Astarion got the finishing blow on Cazador with an absolutely epic sneak attack.

Admittedly struggled with dialogue options because the previous issue meant reloading and fucking around a lot and uh, accidentally letting Astarion ascend oops, but after doing things the right way I hit the sweet spot for dialogue and got him to stand down the ritual of his own accord instead of like "stop him" or "I won't help."

All of Astarion's acting is phenomenal??? like??? his VOICE his EXPRESSIONS just god there's so much here. really felt this howl.

Chose to free the spawn. 7000 predators suddenly released into the Underdark is sure to cause some ecological issues BUT it was so good seeing Astarion stand up for them and give them the chance to be saved and free. The chance he should have had long ago. Break that cycle, babey.

Oh man that whole post I made connecting the mirror scene to the entire person Astarion was being just gone, forgotten was so on the nose. AND FEY YOU WERE RIGHT He's gonna make himself his own person. Free. Even if that means living in the shadows... Aldrich will always be with him. And their githyanki child because I still have that egg hanging in my inventory and I don't think it's safe with any of the quest parties involved. Just gotta uh. beat the game and hope I can have that epilogue. I'm still nervous about having undergone partial ceremorphosis but uhhhhh maybe Astarion won't mind tentacles?

Astarion finally answers, "You're not a victim, not a target, so then... what are you?" I have another act 2 comic script sitting aside that touched on this and I kinda really wanna do it now haha. It's satisfying when things you speculate about a character fall into place.

but also, maybe a sillier doodle comic, of an earlier moment (after the spawn ambush you at night) when you can tell Astarion "if you open up and care about others, they will care about you" and he's like "no one cares, not like you do" and then like 10ft away is Karlach who is like I LOVE MY BITEY FRIEND I'LL TEAR DOWN THE WHOLE PALACE IF THEY TAKE HIM!!! And her reaction after just enforcing that. All the party gossip of being proud of Astarion was so nice.

Next I gotta rescue Lae'zel from Orin and hope that she's still alive because uuhhh it's been a few long rests oops. She's got all the anti-shapeshifter gear from Emperor's old pad it's cool it's fine she's probably already turned orin to mincemeat.

I intended to play all day today but i think I'm gonna leave off here. Digest. Bask in that I rehabilitated and socialised the feral kitten I plucked out of the gutter so long ago.

[greanbean88]

Chapter 5: Threats

Anakin continued to hurt himself, loosing the sense of time. Soon the whole arm became a canvas painted in red. It was done and completed so he went on to the next. Slashing more aggressively the more emotional he became. Completely disregarding if he would cut too hard.

In the distance a click was heard. Obi-Wan.

An akin quickly got himself together and washed the blood from his arms into the drain. Bacta was quickly pulled from the cabinet and smothered over his arms. It stung badly but it had to be done. Anakin then ran as quickly he could into his room and threw off his robes. Placing them over the red on the ground. While jumping into his new robes, a knock was heard at his door.

“Anakin? Is everything alright? Can I come in?” Obi-Wan asked in a concerned tone.

Anakin was scared if he knew. If Obi-Wan found out what he was doing. If Anakin would be reprimanded for his actions, letting his emotions get the better of him.

Anakin cleared his throat hoping to clear the fear out his throat. Only for it to sound weak and small. “I-I’m fine. Just putting my clothes on.”

“Really?… I can feel your heightened emotions in the force young one…” Obi-Wan then hesitated and with a careful voice said: “You don’t have a girl in there do you?…”

Suddenly the door was opened quickly and Anakin looked at Obi-Wan with a shocked expression. “W-What? No!”

Obi-Wan put his arms on his waist. Giving Anakin one of his infamous looks. “Really…You sure?”

Anakin’s face filled red with embarrassment. The only other time he has ever had this type of conversation with Obi-Wan was when he was young. “Yes I am sure!”

Obi-Wan sighed and relaxed his shoulder. Hands falling off his hips. He turned around and walked to his room. “Okay…” He mumbled.

Anakin stood there for a moment. Waiting until Obi-Wan closed his door. Who knows why he was in there. It’s not even late out.

He thought to himself. Then he closed backed into his room again. Closing the door and locking it. He pulled the robes off the bloodied spot. Water from the bathroom sink was brought over from a cup he had lying around. Water splattered onto the floor in a chaotic manner. Anakin then immediately got old towels, clothes, anything he could find beat up enough to scrub the floor. It would be too obvious if he went out into the kitchen and got a sponge. But Anakin’s work was not efficient. Nothing was changing on the ground. The blood stayed in its previous spot. Reminding him of his actions.

He had no other choice but to leave his room and hope his master would not walk in.

He made his way over to his master’s room and locked on his door. “Obi-Wan?” Anakin questioned. Some shuffling was heard behind the door but it soon was opened to a wet Obi-Wan in a towel. “Oh! Sorry I didn’t mean to bother your shower. I just wanted to say that I’m going to the training room.”

Obi-Wan nodded his head in understanding. “Alright no problem. I’ll come join you later.” He said.

—

When Anakin left their room he knew he messed up. His arms were incredibly sore even though the bacta was there. And he knew he shouldn’t have said he was going to the training room. Now Obi-Wan was going to join him!

As he was walking through the hallway these thoughts swelled in his mind. But the reached and end once he came upon his destination. The closet Padme pulled him in. He remembered it was a janitor’s closet and hit had sponges right on the shelf.

Once he went to turn on the lights, the door suddenly shut behind him. Panic flooded his sense immediately. He reached led for his lightsaber on his side, but cosme in contact with nothing. Where did he put his lightsaber?

“P-Padme… This isn’t funny. I’m not laughing.” Anakin stuttered out as he touched the wall next to him searching for the light switch. His hands grazed frantically over the smooth surface looking for what he wanted but came in contact with something else. A face. Not any face though. He knew this one. He knew who it was.

Then a a light was turned on which blinded him for a moment.

“Anakin my boy… Didn’t I tell you the jedi’s ways aren’t right? Why are you still trying to hold back your emotions. I see you walked down the hallway, wondering aimlessly half dead.” Palpatine said as he placed a hand on his shoulder. Anakin flinched violently and shook. Palpatine chuckled.

“W-What do you want?” Anakin said.

“I want you to join me. You know not to disobey me after your little lesson we had earlier right?” Palpatine said as he smiled wickedly.

Anakin started back in complete shock. He didn’t know what to do. Maybe he could scream for help. No. It wouldn’t work. He knew that.

“I… Uh…” Was all he could say. Frozen by the situation.

“Actually… “ Palpatine said as he lifted his hand from Anakin’s shoulder. Instead placing them on his head. Ruffling his hair like he was a dog. “I don’t care what you do. You will join me. Or else Padme dies.”

“Please! No! Don’t! I’m begging you!”

Suddenly a finger was put over his lips. “Shhh, not so loud. Don’t want the others to hear you, right?”

Anakin nodded his head. He knew he was over. Either join the dark side, saving Padme. Live and disobey killing Padme. Or die negatively affecting the war. He didn’t know what to do. What is the best option?

Anakin became bold and wrapped his hand over Palpatine’s skinny finger. Caressing it. “I’m sorry, I should know better.” He said. Looking at Palpatine with eyes he only used on Padme. “That’s right! Just listen to me and all will be fine.” The elder one said.

He eased off and put his hands on his hips. Smiling positively. “If only…” He said.

Anakin knew this was his chance to pretend and get on his good side. Somehow escape. “If only what?” Anakin said softly.

“If only you weren’t so stupid.” He said in a cold manner. “I know what you’re doing. Do you think I’m a fool?! Your emotions are so obvious in the force it’s embarrassing!” He exclaimed.

Anakin stood there in astonishment. He really thought his plan would work but he should have known it wouldn’t. He instantly felt self-conscious if he was this stupid when it came to coming up with battle strategies. If this was the reason nobody ever wanted to go along with his plans.

Palpatine slammed Anakin’s body against the wall which had the switch on it. The lights were switched off and Anakin’s breath hitched.

“Now why did you think… it was a good idea to lie to me?” Palpatine whispered into Anakin’s ear. “You…You know better than this.” He said as he put his hand on Anakin’s chest. The jedi turned his head away from the whisper’s in his ear in fear. “You’re going to face the consequences now.”

Suddenly Palpatine backed up and walked out the door. Surprising Anakin. He thought that was it for him and he would never see the ones he loves again. But then he realized what Palpatine just said was a threat. What was he going to do? Was he going to hurt Padme like he said he would?

He slowly opened the door and looked both ways into the hallway. Luckily no one was there. Then he went back into the room and closed the door. He let his emotions go and slid down the door sitting in the darkness. Uncontrollable fat tears fell down his cheeks and rolled onto his robes. He was so lost. He didn’t know what to do. Wheee to go. Who to tell.

His breath hitched violently trying to get air into his lungs. He placed his body on the ground and laid down. His hands balled into fists as he punched them into the ground. He had no one. Nothing. Padme as going to die and he can’t do a thing about it. He already had nightmares about her death in child birth but this might be it. This might be the end of her.

After a long while of lying down on the dirty ground. He picked himself up and opened the door. He walked with his head down back to this chambers. He couldn’t just randomly go to Padme with no explanation. He needed some sort of plan.

[lavendertales]

Did (not) kiss you back—Steve Harrington x gn!reader

summary: Steve swears he didn’t reciprocate your kiss from yesterday. or did he?

word count: 1.3k

A/N: no warnings, just some fluff and comedy with everyone’s favorite golden retriever boy. mutual pining, feelings and all that jazz.

gif: @emziess​ 

Steve was dissociating. Badly. He was up for most of the night, replaying that scene from the previous night on an impossible-to-interrupt loop. He tossed and turned, unable to move on from what had happened. How could he? It was… serene and comfortable, familiar, warm, despite its surprising upbringing.

What was worse, he was unable to remove the lingering taste of the lips that stole such magnificent kiss from him.

Was it stealing though? Could it be referred to as stealing if that’s what he’d always wanted, deep down?

No. He couldn’t say that it was.

He shouldn’t have questioned things quite like this, nor should he have questioned his intentions, either. He was supposed to be just… that. Steve Harrington, local pretty boy. Steve “The Hair” Harrington.

But there was so much more to him than that. He shared this almost heart-wrenching connection with you that was not meant to be understood, but felt.

He replayed the kiss in his mind over and over, dissecting it nearly till he bled, unable to stop himself from doing so. He finished his coffee without so much as fussing about anything, discreetly placing his index to his lips.

“Steve, can we talk?”

Out of everyone that could’ve entered the kitchen, of course it had to be you.

The thing is, with you being such close friend with Robin, you were around a lot. A whole lot. And being around brought out feeling for Steve that he isn’t sure he’d ever felt. But he couldn’t tell you. He was focused on his job, and since things were so wild in Hawkins overall—he couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you simply because you were with him.

But now, after that unprompted kiss, he had plenty of things to reconsider. That damned kiss had him craving more of you like he was some sort of madman.

Steve was visibly flustered by your presence as he fumbled around the table, eager to place the mug in the sink, and he made no attempt to hide it per se. He backed up several steps when he saw you approaching him just as timidly, avoiding your eyes.

“What, why? There’s nothing to talk about,” he blurted out.

“We should talk about the kiss, don’t you think?”

“Kiss, what—“

Steve hit the countertop as he backed into it, fearfully staring into your eyes. He felt the urge to quite literally run away from you, as far as possible, but instead he only kept moving around in random steps.

“It never happened,” he pushed. “It’s my word against yours.”

“You think I’ll be running around telling people about that? It’s—private.”

Steve’s eyes widened, panic spreading through him like wildfire.

“Then why talk about it?!” he whispered.

“I meant private between you and me.”

Out of nowhere, Steve burst out laughing. It was a manic laughter, tinted with nervousness and fear alike.

“Okay, you know what, this is getting out of hand. It did not happen.”

“I meant what I said. I do like you. A lot. I might be in l—“

“Bahhh!”

He couldn’t stand it anymore; flustered, he finally faced you with pestering, slightly terrified eyes.

“Stop saying that,” he whispered angrily. “Please.”

“Why are you whispering? Robin’s not here.”

“I—don’t know! You got me all confused, it’s—weird!”

“You’re weird.”

“Yeah, well – whose fault is it?”

You frowned. “Mine?”

“Exactly, yes! Don’t come in here with your ‘oh I really like you, I might L-word you’ things. And stop trying to say it!”

And then, you exploded as well.

“Yeah well, I can’t stop, Harrington! It’s been bottled up for too long and now that we’ve kissed—“

“Nuh uh, you kissed. You kissed me!”

“Fine! I kissed you because I am in love with you, you idiot! I can’t stop saying it. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you, I’m so in love with—“

“I said stop!”

Suddenly his hands were on your arms, pulling you in, though the look in his eyes did not match the tone of his voice. His eyes were… soft, pleading, and they made you so damn weak you could’ve easily passed out.

“I never thought this could be mutual,” you muttered. “Not even when I kissed you. I thought, ‘I’ll just shoot my shot’. But then you—kissed me back.”

Steve felt more annoyed.

“I did not kiss you back!” he claimed. “I was pushing you away! With… my lips.”

You stared at him, utterly unmoved by his silliness.

“You didn’t feel like someone who didn’t want to kiss me,” you murmured, somewhat sad, yet remaining hopeful on some fronts.

Steve’s eyes locked with yours, emanating one too many sensations to be verbalized. You sat there before him, drinking him in like a tall glass of lemonade on a hot day, barely breathing.

“I never said I didn’t… want to,” he seemingly excused himself.

How could he save himself the embarrassment of admitting that he was definitely not the smooth-talking ladies’ man everyone thought he was? How could he blurt out that the reason he was so clumsy and awkward around you was because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and he thought you were way too good for him?

“Why are you so worked up about this?” you asked, searching for his eyes.

“What—what do you mean why?!” Steve threw his hands in the air in frustration and despair. “Because you just marched in here all confident about it and I couldn’t get that kiss out of my head!”

You stared at him, utterly shattered. Your heart was racing, filled with a weird sense of happiness, as well as heartbreak for poor Steve Harrington who was struggling with his own emotions, a little too hard.

“What?” you asked after a while.

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought he enjoyed the kiss this much. I mean, yes, you did feel him reciprocate a little too enthusiastically, but to hear that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it… about you… oh boy.

“Obviously I am not made of stone,” Steve continued, approaching you. “And obviously I… got some feelings that I need to sort out.”

“Probably, yeah.”

“But you can’t just – go around walking all confident about it like it’s no big deal.”

You scoffed, unable to help yourself.

“It’s a big deal to me, too,” you explained, your eyes softening right under Steve’s. “I just figured if I act sure of myself… it wouldn’t be obvious just how much I like you.”

Steve frowned. “You sure about that? I’m kind of a mess.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

That made him chuckle, easing some of the previously felt tension.

“I’m a mess too,” you reassured him with a smile. “Who isn’t? But… I just wanted to let you know, if you’re interested… there are people who really care about you.”

“If I’m interested?”

He moved even closer to you, reaching for your hand. You noticed a playful smirk residing on his face; the expression bearing a striking resemblance to the Steve Harrington everyone else seemed to know.

The very same Steve Harrington you were guilty to have fallen for.

And then, unexpectedly, he pressed a kiss on your cheek, hesitant to inch away from you. He stayed there, brown eyes gazing into yours.

“So much for not reciprocating the kiss,” you teased him.

He threw you a mildly annoyed glare, which prompted laughter from you both.

“So if I were to ask you out…”

“If? Steve, come on, we just went over this.”

“Well, yeah, but I’d still like some verbal confirmation.”

You smiled, gently grazing his cheek. “I’d really like that.”

[whumpzone]

Lost Property - 22

(masterpost)

Previous - Next

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, noncon references

-

Lydia put down the phone on the table and the slight click of the metal hitting the wood sounded like a death knell in Colton’s ears. He was still in the bathroom, taking far longer than needed, cowardly hiding away as if it would change anything. He had lied to his Master. By omission, but a lie even so. He had conspired with another owner to keep a key fact - the fact that he had hurt a human - from his Master’s knowledge. 

It was a mortal sin if there ever was one. Master would be justified in stripping his hide from his flesh, in crushing every bone, in bleeding him dry. But perhaps he wouldn’t, perhaps he would just look at his sinful, false pet with profound disappointment in those dark eyes, and that would be a punishment that would cut equally deep into Col’s soul. 

I’ll tell him, Col promised himself. I’ll confess the moment I see him. I’ll say- I’ll say I wanted to wait, I wanted him to be able to punish me immediately.

No, I won’t. How can I think about lying again?

He heard Lydia moving about and suddenly he just wanted to scream. Couldn’t she just get it over with? Punish him or have her way with him or both at the same time, just get it done! He felt drained to the bone with dread, he couldn’t spend another night like this, in helpless anticipation. He couldn’t take it any more. 

She had been so, so kind to him earlier, so merciful and patient, and he just wanted to know why. He wanted her to finally show him why. 

He took one last look at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look at himself often, but he thought he might as well take the sight in, in case the next time he saw himself he was bruised and bloodied. 

He left the bathroom. He expected Lydia to make a comment about how long he’d been, but she was preoccupied with plugging her phone charger in and smoothing down her sheets.

“I’m ready for bed. I’m exhausted, in fact. How are you feeling, Col?”

His old master had never taught him the proper response to a question like that. “I’m… I’m always attentive, Ma’am, and open for your use.”

Lydia didn’t look satisfied. She just looked at him with a sad smile. “Okay, well I think we both need a good night’s sleep after today.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Will you-”

Fear stopped him in his tracks. He was getting far too bold. He wasn’t allowed to ask questions; he wasn’t meant to think so much. 

“Hm?”

But, perhaps, perhaps if he did provoke her, she might finally get it over with?

“Will you… still require the second bed, Ma’am? Or would you like me- me- uh…”

-

Lydia was often able to respond pretty quickly to whatever horrific pet language got thrown at her, by either Coriander or Colton. She was thankful for her quick thinking skills and level head, throughout it all. Colton’s question did make her pause, though. Was that why he thought she was looking after him?

“No, no not at all,” she said, and for all that Col was meant to take it as a definitive order from a human, Lydia felt like she was pleading with him instead. “I’d never do that to you. I don’t want to hurt you Col, I really don’t.”

How could she make him believe her? It was still taking months to get such an enormous concept through to Cory. There was no way she’d be able to do it in one night with this pet.

“Please, pl-please Ma’am, use me for stress relief. Anything you want to do to me, I will- will accept. Without hesitation.”

His words were more rehearsed than ever. Contrasting his spoken submission was his pose, the way he was leaving as much space between them as possible. To say nothing of the way he was clutching his hands against his chest, or how badly his bottom lip was trembling. 

“I don’t want to,” she said firmly. “I’ll never want to.”

“Please,” Col begged desperately. “I’ve- I’ve hurt a human, a-and been nothing but trouble for you, and I, I, I lied to my Master. Please, Ma’am, I need to be useful, and hurt, and, and-”

-

You can cry when you need to, Master had said. Col hadn’t cried one tear about the attack, yet. The shock had kept him numb. But now, with exhaustion ripping away all of his defences, and the never-ending terror of being so far from home, he knew he was about to collapse into his familiar patheticness all over again.

“Hey, come here, come here Col,” Lydia beckoned, and Col straightened his back reflexively. It was happening. It was finally happening and he had to be perfect, but he’d never been perfect, not once in his whole miserable life.

He frowned when Lydia lowered herself to the floor, like she had done earlier. She sat with her back against the bedframe and her legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles.

“No bed. I’m not going to hurt you. But why don’t we talk about what happened? And if you want… I can pet your head. Cory likes it, when he’s scared.”

Col almost, almost took a step back, then caught himself. “I don’t, I really d-don’t deserve it, please.”

“I’m offering. You’ve had one hell of a day, Col. Cory puts his head in my lap, but it’s your choice.”

This was her game, then. Col was too broken to play it properly. He couldn’t even get that right. 

-

Lydia watched patiently as Col submitted and sank to the floor next to her, laying his head hesitantly in her lap. Glancing up every few seconds to check that it was really alright. And then he just lay there, braced, tense. 

She tried to imagine how it looked to him. Probably similar to if the armed robber appeared and beckoned Lydia to come and lie next to him. Promising he wouldn’t hurt her while still clutching the knife. She’d be pretty reluctant too.

Her hands didn’t move; she wasn’t in any rush. Instead, she looked vaguely ahead, tracing the pattern in the curtains.

“You really did save me, Col. You saved the both of us. I was just frozen, I think, and it all happened so fast. I couldn’t do anything at all. I was properly scared, you know?”

Col stayed quiet, but that didn’t come as a surprise. Lydia knew he was listening, and that was enough.

“But you- you acted so fast! I know how scary it was for you, too. I think we were both equally surprised when you punched him,” she laughed softly. 

“I didn’t think, Ma’am. I’ve never done something like that before, I swear.”

His voice was low, and a little bit hoarse. 

“You just did what you thought was best. And it was.”

“Pets aren’t meant to think, I shouldn’t make decisions about anything, much less- much less something like that.”

“Well… would you do it again? If you were in a similar situation?”

She expected him to choke out no, I wouldn’t dare, I know my place.

But instead, he made eye contact, allowing her to see the cold sincerity on his face.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he whispered. “I would. I’m so sorry.”

-

Col couldn’t lie anymore. He hated it. He wasn’t meant for speaking, and he certainly wasn’t smart enough to lie. 

Besides, maybe Lydia would finally see a good enough reason to punish him. That was what he wanted, right? 

Lydia’s eyes widened and instantly a piercing dread plunged into him. How had he just said that?

“Wow,” she said, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “You are one tough cookie, aren’t you?”

Colton froze, even stiffer than before. What did that even mean? Was she mocking him? Was it a good thing that she was amused?

“You know…” Lydia said again, her voice warm and low, as if she was sharing a confidence. “If you hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t taken action, we could both have been seriously hurt.” Lydia reached up behind herself so that she could pull down the blanket from the foot of the bed behind her. With a flourish that made Col start in surprise, she spread it over them both.

After a while sitting in silence, she said. “People might have told you that you aren’t smart or that you can’t make decisions for yourself. They are wrong. You did a really good job today, Colton. You should know that.”

Perhaps it was the twilight in the room, the fragile safety of the blanket that Cory’s owner so generously had provided, the warmth of her skin through her clothes - or the honesty in Lydia’s voice. Perhaps it was nothing more than the stress and exhaustion of the past days, but Colton suddenly couldn’t keep the tears from his eyes. Don’t be stupid! She isn’t even hurting you! Get a grip! Nobody wants a snivelling pet. 

But it was too late. His green eyes overflowed with tears. Not even the panicked thought that he would wet Lydia’s clothes could make them stop. Be quiet! Don’t make too much noise. Colton tried to control his breathing, to cry as quietly as possible, but he couldn’t stop. The tears, and the shivers and the great, heaving sobs had flowed over him like the tide. 

After a moment, he felt Lydia’s hand in his hair. She raked away some of the locks falling into his eyes, and proceeded to pet her hand over his pale brown tresses, soothingly, again and again. “It’s all right, Colton,” she said very quietly, “you can cry as much as you want. It is all right.”

-

taglist part 1:

@cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[shurisneakers]

harmless (viii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He doesn’t expect to see you on TV. 

In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.

But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.

You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest. 

He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.

Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.

You better get your ass here, sarge

And so he does.

Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.

“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self. 

“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”

“What’s your dumb plan then?” 

“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”

“Where is it?” 

“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”

Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm. 

The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.

There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.

“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”

“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.

“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”

He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”

“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”

He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.

“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction. 

“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.” 

Bucky looks down.

“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”

“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”

“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”

“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”

“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”

Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.

"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.” 

“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.

“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”

He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.

“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”

“No. Stay there.”

“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.

“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.

“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked. 

When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome. 

“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.

“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.

He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went. 

“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence. 

Now that simply wouldn’t do. 

Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.

“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.

“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”

“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.

“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him. 

“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”

He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure. 

“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”

“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat. 

“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”

“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.

He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-

“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand. 

You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.

“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you. 

“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.  

“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.

“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately. 

If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.  

The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair. 

“What the fu-”

“Hello,” your voice comes from above him. 

“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.

“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”

He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.

“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.

There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.

“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.

“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.

“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.

“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate. 

“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.

“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.

“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him. 

He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.

“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”

He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.

“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help. 

He rolls his eyes.

You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand. 

He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory. 

He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.

The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.

“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”

He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.

“Right.” You clear your throat. 

He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance. 

“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”

“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.

“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”

He didn’t. 

“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”

Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?

“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”

“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?” 

He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back. 

“You go on missions a lot?” 

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.

He got that reference.

“What’s your favourite food then?”

He scrunches his eyebrows.

“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”

It’s not, he’s just never thought about it. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”

“Vague, but I’ll take it.”

He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own. 

It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side. 

“What do you do in your downtime?”

“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.

“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm. 

There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”

You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”

He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.

“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”

“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him. 

The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.

“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually. 

He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.

Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle. 

“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”

He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that. 

Frankly, he’s a little stunned.

You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”

At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.

A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.

You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there. 

“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”

“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”

“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.

“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage. 

He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets. 

Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-

“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”

Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”

He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.

The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints. 

You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.

“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job. 

“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”

Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.

Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.

He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.

Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.

You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.

You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.

“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”

He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder. 

“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.” 

He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.

“You wanted to talk to me.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh.

“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”

“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”

He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too. 

Next part