#You’re Divine lives in my head rent fucking free

[amethyst-crowns]

still thinking of @azrielgreen ‘s Eddie / Little Bit

WIP

#WIP #i draw things #You’re Divine lives in my head rent fucking free #like really might reread her soon #for as much as i love this fic i have drawn a criminally low percentage of fanart dedicated to it #you’re divine eddie #Little Bit my precious little monster #i want to cradle you in my hands so gentle #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson

[ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds]

Y’all this idea has lived rent free in my brain for so fucking long and it’s about damn time I did something with it. My boy Gabriel has a mouth and a tongue and teeth and fingers. What more do you need? This one is short and sweet but I think it’s enough.

Hope y’all enjoy <3

~

Angel Eyes

AO3 link: Here

Pairing: Gabriel May x AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Word count: 610

Content warnings: Cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, praise kink, hair-pulling, begging, mild religious themes, accidental denial? I guess?, service top Gabriel, reader is AFAB but gender-neutral

What Gabriel lacked in refined skill, he more than made up for with sheer enthusiasm.

A moan slipped out of your mouth. You buried your burning face into a pillow, even as the action made it harder to catch your shallow, ragged breath. And did little to muffle your next moan. The head between your legs just about purred in response, and the vibration of his voice so close to your cunt had you clenching.

“Fuck, Gabriel.” Your voice came out muffled. “Fuck, you’re good. You’re so fucking good.” You rolled your hips at the same time he placed the flat of his tongue against you. Pleasure surged through your veins. Your fingers twisted into the pillow. “F-fucking hell, God. Fuck.”

Gabriel was shaking almost as much as you were. Shivering and squirming as he ate you out like you were his last fucking meal. Sure, his lack of lips made precision harder. Made it messier, wetter. And his lack of skill only added to that. But God, you were already soaked. And his inexperience just drenched you more, made his eagerness and neediness to prove himself and pleasure you so much better. His tongue lavished your clit, dipped between your lips to drink up your leaking wetness. He spread you out between his fingers to better access you, dipping one in to thrust deep inside as he took your clit between his teeth. You writhed, moaned and chanted his name as if it was something holy, bucked your hips as heat pulsed through your gut. It was delicious, it was wet and sloppy and unskilled and fucking hot. Enough to sustain the pleasure but not enough to get you over the edge.

You don’t think he realized how fucking good that felt, too. The accidental tease, the completely unwitting denial. How the desperation tangled in the arousal heightened it all.

He pulled away, breath ghosting over your cunt. The sight of him between your legs, long hair tangled, eyes wide and glazed over, his other arm curled around your thigh, was enough to send another wave of heat tingling through you. You dropped your head back onto the pillow and sighed. “Please, Gabriel. Please.” Just please. He felt so sinfully good, and you’d gladly burn in hell for the burn of pleasure.

You must’ve spoken some part of that thought – at this point, your brain was practically melting out of your ears, and you couldn’t keep track of what you said out loud and what you didn’t. Because Gabriel pressed his teeth against the inside of your thigh, parted them to lick the skin. His equivalent of a kiss. And his voice rumbled out from the nearby speaker, “But you taste divine.”

God, it was such a saccharine, melodramatic thing to say. It made you want to ride him till you saw stars.

And as if he’d thought the same, his tongue was back on you, both arms wrapped around your thighs and leveraging you for better access. You gasped out as he circled your clit and played with the sensitive nub. Teasing, teasing, teasing. You could cry from how good it was, how good he was. You plunged your fingers into his hair and tugged. Desperately rode his tongue and chased your just-out-of-reach release. Didn’t bother to stop the moans and praise flowing out unbidden. His needy whimpers just made it sweeter, made you grow wetter and burn hotter.

His voice crackled out from the speaker again. “You look–” A broken moan that nearly had you seeing white, “–f-fucking angelic.”

And maybe he was right. How could something that felt this good be considered so sinful?

#ace writes #gabriel may #gabriel may x reader #malignant #malignant 2021 #notsft #congratulations to gabriel for being the first slasher i've written more than one fic for and who isn't freddy lmao

[yermes]

PAC: 🦪 

Some small confidence reminders

No because if someone has the balls to order and slurp down 48 oysters on a first date you can have the balls to make it through the day.

Pick a meme

The cards

Queen of cups (Reversed) 🪤

Binah, Heh, Queen of the Thrones of Waters, Watery part of Water, 20° Gemini to 20° Cancer

Possible immortal compass and odd code of honor. What a vibe. Honestly in practice and in life most people adhere to their own personal code of ethics rather than a confined set of ethics. Yeah the society we are in, how we are brought up, and our psychological nature all dictates it a little but honestly hey if your moral compass points south and everyone else's points north: if you walk long enough you will all end up in the same place.

The Devil 🦪

Saturn, Moon, Tiphareth to Hod, Earth

Find confidence doing something for you which satisfies you. Not anyone else. You were born to be free. You do not serve. Embrace your as above and so below and honor both your divine and primal aspect.

Five of Pents 💦

Geburah, Lord of Material Trouble, Mercury in Taurus, 1°–10°, Angels Mibahiah and Pooyal

Its okay to be a broke bitch we all have to start from somewhere. But honestly hard time materially means you can do things to fulfill yourself in other ways. Besides you’re on the mission to the top its okay to struggle a bit you have much more going for you just keep going.

Art 🦞

Virgo in Mercury, Sagittarius, Yesod to Tiphareth, Fire

You have the ability to turn something plain info something fucking amazing recognize that. Your power of creation is above all else. However, it has no fixed position. The balance is always changing and shifting but somehow? You still create a balance.

Extras: 🌦️

Story/vent: the chaote urge to make a working of some kind based on Oyster Lady, as you can tell shes been living in my head rent free.

TipJar

Socials

#suitlifeofgerm #askgerm #pick a card #daily card #pick a picture #magic #shadow work #pac #tarotoftheday #germ reads #tarot commissions #tarot community #tarot witch #free tarot #daily tarot #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #divination #cartomancy #Spotify

[catt030516]

Happy anniversary to two people who are about to be divorced and never followed ONE rule of marriage! You’re getting divorced. You’ve never felt more alone.

The money will fill you up for awhile initially Moms care costs go up another $1500 a month. You going to bring her home to your cheating ass wife? Umm…she might have dementia but she still has a soul. And that soul will prevent any happiness in that home between you two. She doesn’t want her in her home any more than I’d want Rene or my sister Liz in my home.

You will continue not wanting to go to Frontier. It will give you stomach upset and a deep sense of gloom. Mike will constantly tell you to go back to PA. In Dawns presence. Until you can barely pull up the street without wanting to vomit. All those men in your bed! Sickening. And yours was a marital bed.

Coward and gullible come to mind as words to describe you. May they haunt your head. You can’t comprehend love at all. Emotionally unattached. And that path your on is going to lead to problems at work, substance abuse, and health. Even your kids wil have enough of you! I accept, aside from Dad, I was the only divine feminine you’ll ever cross. And I’ll live rent free in that head until you correct it. You did us wrong and you’ll either atone or suffer. You’ll learn life without the umbrella of my protection is UNBEARABLE. Until you can be a man- fuck that a HUMAN BEING may you have no joyful emotions. May you feel tremendous guilt, may you look for humanity and find none. Love and light to your wife and whoever’s hitting her up. So mote it be.

[spainkitty]

Shout out to @sillyliterature for tagging me in things!! I love being tagged. Also, I really love and am obsessed with my Lanil (Surana) Lavellan oc. While about 80k of her as the Inquisitor has been written, I've gone down a rabbit hole of "What if Lanil had stayed in the Circles and joined the official Mage Rebellion instead?" so here we go 🤗 My amgry gorl~ living in my head rent free~ I might do this again from my handers/fenhanders fic because I know sillylit loves Anders as much as I do.

So basically this is like Find The Word, but with a phrase instead, or if you don’t have it, something with a similar vibe. The phrase is: This can't be real.

My phase: I don't quite have that in this fic, but I did have "You can't seriously [...]"

.

“You can’t seriously be going without me?” Lanil demanded. Fiona’s mouth twitched, her dark eyes amused. Lanil immediately looked away, scowling as heat suffused her cheeks.

“I am more than capable of travelling to Val Royeaux alone, although I will be taking a few mages with me, if that will assuage your concern,” Fiona said at last. “I do not want to seem as if I’m bringing a fight with me. Pardon me for saying so, Lanil, but you walk into a room like you’re walking into a fight.

“Can you blame me after this year?” Lanil muttered. “So, the Herald… are they really a qunari?”

“She is. I suppose the term is Tal-Vashoth, if the reports are true and she is not of the Qun. It may be impertinent to ask in the same breath I ask for aid,” Fiona said dryly.

Lanil smirked and shrugged. “I doubt a real Qun-loving qunari would let themself be called the Herald of Andraste.”

“I’m still not sure if this is a good idea,” Fiona said with a quiet sigh. “We’ve already seen what little the Chantry is able to do for us." She waved in the vague direction of… out there, where, yes, rebels that refused to join Redcliffe tore up the countryside, but also where roving packs of violent Templars wandered and cut down any mage or mage sympathizer, violent or not, they happened to see. “And both the Right and Left Hand of the Divine are heading this Inquisition.”

“The late Divine. But... Connor did say Arl Teagan told him that a former Templar is their Commander, too,” Lanil said with a grimace. Fiona’s lips pursed slightly, eyes narrowing. “A Templar from Kirkwall.”

Fiona pressed fingers to her temples. Lanil, as always, couldn’t help but be impressed by Fiona’s control. She herself would have at least cursed out loud by now. Lanil wondered if Fiona had always been able to do that, or was it something she made herself learn?

“Perhaps Linnea is right,” the Grand Enchanter whispered. Her eyes caught on the warrior statuette and she took it in hand again, rolling it between her palms. “How many more refugees have come this week?”

“About a dozen, and maybe three are actually capable of helping defend the keep. The only mages with any sort of combat skill are out in the fucking hills making it worse for everyone. We need to stick together or we’re all going to be hunted and cut down like nugs at this point,” Lanil snarled, lightning crackling at her fingertips.

“Or perhaps we’ll let you loose on the Templars and apostates alike so you might glower them into submission,” Fiona teased. Her voice was weary, quiet, but her dark eyes gleamed. Lanil glared at the nearest wall and crossed her arms over her chest. Her mouth was twitching, though, and her heart felt lighter. “The general opinion? Any increase in Tevinter sympathies?”

Lanil groaned and rolled her eyes upwards. She knew Fiona bringing up Linnea didn’t bode well. “Yes, all right, there are more people pushing for sending word to Tevinter, but it’s definitely not the majority. Linnea is two seconds away from running for the hills and going staff-happy on the countryside herself, don’t listen to her, Grand Enchanter. We don’t need them. They’re slavers.”

“And so many of us are elves…” Fiona frowned. “Our choices are a heretical Chantry organization and a mage-friendly slave nation. We’re not even sure either would help.”

“You need to get the Arl to contact the King,” Lanil said flatly. Fiona’s eyes flickered towards her and away. “He put us here. He promised us aid.”

“He promised us shelter. He did not promise us soldiers.”

“Then, ask for them! Fuck the Chantry, or Inquisition, whatever, and fuck the Vints, too. Do you think the King and Queen would give us Redcliffe just to let the Templars burst in and slaughter us!? The King obviously cares a little. Wynne was his advisor for years, Orzammar has its own Circle and the King and Queen refused to break the alliance with King Bhelen to support an Exalted March, and Anders…” Fiona raised a hand to stop her, but Lanil barrelled on anyway, “The Warden-Commander, King Alistair’s well-known friend and advisor, made Anders a Grey Warden. She protected him! Not only that, she’s an elf. They appointed an elf a Bann of the Denerim Alienage. They care about mages and elves both. The King is our best bet and you--”

“Surana, be silent.”

Lanil’s mouth snapped shut. It wasn’t often Fiona used that tone of voice, and it never failed to send prickles down Lanil’s spine. Instantaneous obedience. Silence fell hard between them and fire crackled in the fireplace. Fiona’s fingers curled around the statuette she held, enveloping it in her fist.

“Let us see how the Herald responds to my invitation first. I’ll return from Val Royeaux as swiftly as I am able,” Fiona said decisively. There was no arguing with that tone. Lanil inhaled and exhaled roughly through her nose. Fiona smiled and crossed the room. Gently, she cupped Lanil’s face in her hands, dark eyes tracing over Lanil’s features and meeting her stormy grey glare. “Mon petite tempête, you will take care of our people while I am away.”

“Of course,” she grumbled.

#orlesian #dao surana #lavellan dai #dragon age fiona #i let her speak orlesian you cant stop me #dont be so pretentious it's French #kitty writes a thing #What if Lavellan is Surana and What if Surana never became Lavellan #what me tangle myself into too many threads im drowning #writeblr #tag the phrase #Lanil My Precious #dragon age fanfiction #in the calling fiona had dark brown eyes #so fuck dai for changing that WHY did they change that ugh

[divine-mistake]

it's just a curve upon the lips (a kiss)

Summary: “Did it really look like I needed your help?”

“Yes. Horribly.”

Characters: TFATWS!Bucky Barnes/(f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (no smut), possible TFATWS SPOILERS, strong language, canon typical violence, fluff, humor, established relationship, idiots in love, is this a john walker hate fic?, totally not divine's normal bag of tricks

Word Count: 4500

A/N: Well, I have 0 patience so I am posting this fic this morning. This fic was written for @kitkatd7 and her 600 follower writing challenge! The prompts I used are bolded. Congrats again lovely 💖 hope you are doing swell and that you enjoy this! Thanks for hosting!!

main masterlist

Bucky’s going to kill you.

Or, more realistically, he’s going to kill John Walker. Not that it’s really Walker’s fault that you’re in the predicament you’re in. Well—okay—he’s not faultless. If anyone ruined this mission first, it was Walker. All you’re doing is trying to save it.

But being pressed up against the wall of some dirty nightclub in Madripoor, John Walker’s lips inhaling your own, his hand wandering dangerously close to your ass where he could easily slip his fingers up the hem of your dress and feel that you aren’t wearing panties, well, that’s gonna be a hard one to explain.

It all started when you were born—

But more seriously, it started in New York, when Sam Wilson showed up on your doorstep with a new mission.

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon, don’t make me beg!” Sam’s standing in front of you, hardly out of the entryway, giving you the big puppy dog eyes as if he’s asking for something simple, like taking you out for a milkshake. Or jetting you off to Italy for a long overdue vacation. Or, fuck, anything but whisking your boyfriend off to Madripoor for an off-the-books mission.

You stare at him, hard, for five seconds. Then you point to the ground beneath your feet.

“Beg,” you command.

He recoils in absolute shock, mouth falling open, and then his lips pull back to reveal a set of pearly teeth bared in a cheesy grin.

“Damn, Barnes,” he says with a whistle. “You better watch your back or I’ll snatch her up, quick as can be.”

Not even moving from the couch he’s lounging on, Bucky throws his hand up in the air, waving lazily at Sam.

“You couldn’t handle her.”

Your head falls to the side, eyebrows raised, as if you’re taunting him— waiting for him to say something. Sam’s mouth shuts with a click of teeth and he gulps. With a smile, you narrow your eyes into a glare.

“Fair point,” he says.

“I’m serious,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “If you want him, you better start begging, Wilson.”

Sam purses his lips, like he’s seriously thinking about it, and lets out a loud sigh. He’s folding. But just as he’s about to concede, you hear the squeak of your old couch crow and then two large hands, one warm and one cool, fall upon the sides of your jaw, tipping your head back.

Bucky looks down at you sternly. “Baby,” he warns.

You huff, pouting a little. “Really?”

The corner of his lips curl. You hate that he’s tall enough to tower over you like this, the bastard.

“Really,” he says, and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Your eyes flutter closed and you sigh, melting back into him. When you open them again, Sam has his gaze averted, almost embarrassed, like he knows he’s intruding on an intimate moment. As if he hasn’t seen you wrapped around Bucky like an octopus, making out with him as soon as he got home from Riga. It makes you snort.

Bucky’s hands fall from holding your face and wrap around your middle. “So what’s the plan?” he asks, squeezing you gently. “And why is it off record?”

“Got a lead on one of the Power Broker’s old friends,” Sam says, suddenly snapping from Goofy Sam into Captain America, face set stoically, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Why do we care?”

“‘Cause Walker’s already there.”

Bucky’s arms tighten around you until all the air is pushed out of your mouth in a wheeze. You’ve become a squeaky toy, and you’d take a minute to snark at him about it if you could breathe, but you manage to slap your hands against one of his wrists. He lets you go instantly, cursing.

“Shit, sorry doll. Sorry.” His hands soothe over your sore skin. “What do you mean Walker’s there? In Madripoor?”

Sam gives him a curt nod. “He’s gone rogue—not that anyone’s surprised. But we’ve got to intercept. Or at least go and clean up the mess he’s about to make.”

“No,” you interject. “Nuh uh. No fucking way, Samuel. No.”

He frowns at you. “We don’t have much of a choice.”

“The hell you don’t! Let Walker get himself in trouble, who cares? He isn’t your responsibility, and he sure as hell isn’t Bucky’s—who is on a strict pardon, might I remind you.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need him, girl.” For what it’s worth, Sam looks apologetic, and like he means that, but all you can feel is the frustration and anger at what Walker’s done rising up in your body. Stealing the mantle from Sam, calling the love of your life an asset, disrupting his therapy, being a smug asshole, the events of—of everything that happened in Riga.

Bucky and Sam share a look that you don’t really catch, and then Bucky is pulling you toward the living room and spinning you in his arms so you’re smushed to his chest. He takes your face in his hands again and forces you to look at him as you twine your arms around his waist.

“Hey,” he calls gently. “What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s Walker,” you stress. “And Madripoor. And the Power Broker and you’re gonna get in trouble, Bucky. You might be a free agent but you have to be responsible.”

“You know this is my job. And you know Sam’s not gonna let me get into trouble. So what’s really wrong, baby?”

Sighing, tears starting to sting the backs of your eyes, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest. The softness of his henley catches a stray tear that you blink away as you nestle there and he curves his hands around your back to pin you against him. He smells clean, a little like pine and something smoky.

“I don’t want you to go,” you whisper. “You just came home.”

“Baby.”

Bucky pulls you up to meet him, his lips pressed against your own, a little chapped and familiar. It’s gentle and slow, not all-consuming, but a reminder of how much he loves you. His thumb swipes over your cheek to snag a runaway tear and wipe it away. He kisses you like he’s saying, I’m home. You’re my home.

When he pulls away, he’s not smiling, but his brow is furrowed like he’s pained. There is so much fondness for you in the blue depths of his eyes, so much love in the way he caresses your skin with his calloused fingers.

“Come with us,” he says, softly and in love.

And in the background, Sam Wilson shouts: “What?”

That’s how you find yourself in Madripoor.

Now, how you got yourself in this slinky black dress and a pair of stilettos, about to infiltrate a seedy nightclub in the middle of Low Town with a certain rogue John Walker—that’s a whole different story.

It’s a short one, really. You touched down in Madripoor, Sam found Walker making a mess of things as per usual, and then they were left with one single lead: Matthias Crowley. And, unfortunately for you, Crowley knows everyone’s face who is sitting in this town car on their way to Vanish, the club he frequents.

Except for yours.

Bucky is sitting beside you in the back seat, trying to angle a comms device into your ear. But his hands are fumbly, nervous, and yet again he ends up missing his mark.

You hiss in pain as the unit is jammed against the cartilage of your ear and Bucky curses.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “Your ear is just so small.”

“Give it to me,” you snap, a little harsher than normal, but he’s been at it for a few minutes now and just won’t let you do it. With a sigh, Bucky drops the piece into your awaiting palm, and within the next few seconds you have the little black device squished into place. In the darkness of the club, it won’t be visible.

“Sorry,” he says again, looking at you like a kicked puppy. You lay your hand on the cut of his jaw, nails scraping over his skin in a manner that makes him suck in a breath. A preview of later.

“I’ll be fine, babe. I promise.” You curl your lips in a smile. “Don’t worry so much.”

Bucky’s hand falls upon your own, squeezing your fingers. “You’re my best girl,” he tells you.

“Onlygirl.”

“I can’t help but worry. If you get hurt—”

“You don’t have to worry, Bucky. She’ll be with me, after all,” Walker says from the front seat, glancing at the two of you in the rearview mirror. Sam just sighs.

“And now I’m even more worried,” Bucky says, loud enough for Walker to hear. He takes both of your hands in his and presses kisses to your knuckles. “Promise me you’ll be safe, doll. That you’ll listen to all our directions. And that you’ll call me if you need me.”

“It’s going to be fine,” you reassure him, but he squeezes your hands again. “I’m not going to risk ruining the mission.”

“Fuck the mission,” Bucky grits through his teeth. “Madripoor is dangerous. Promise to call me if you need me.”

“Bucky—”

“Promise,” he pleads, his blue eyes all big and wide and worried, and you can’t refuse him.

“I promise.”

He gives you one last, lingering kiss in the backseat of the town car, nearly pulling you atop his lap like he can’t fathom not feeling you against him, and then Sam’s pulling up to Vanish and Walker is calling your name.

The plan is fairly simple. God, isn’t that what they always say though?

You cause a distraction. Spill your fruity drink on Crowley’s lap, get a little teary, show a little cleavage (you left that part out when Bucky was listening), and hold his attention long enough that Walker can sneak up onto the top level and into Crowley’s rented room. There, he’ll knock out the guards and break into the room to get the hard drive that everyone’s ninety-five-percent sure has info on the elusive Power Broker.

And, spoiler alert, most of this does not end up happening.

“You little whore!”

One of Crowley’s bodyguards, or shooty-guys, whatever they are, jesus, has his hand threaded through your hair so tightly it burns. You’re on your knees in front of the man himself, the strap of your silken dress falling off your shoulder, as the bodyguard dude is pulling your head up by your hair to look Matthias in the eyes.

The man himself, blond and kind of thinner than you thought he would be, leans forward in his seat to get a closer look at you. He’s kind of got a stick bug vibe. Like, Bucky could probably crack this man’s spine over his knee.

You feel a giggle try to worm it’s way out of your mouth and you clench your teeth together so hard you draw blood from your tongue.

“Do you even know who I am?” Crowley seethes at you, eyes narrowed into slits.

“No,” you stammer out, pulling out the doe eyes and the wobbling lip—the innocent angel face you tend to use when Bucky’s pissed at you for something you definitely knew you shouldn’t be doing but you did anyway because you’re a brat sometimes.

Men in love are the weakest link, you swear.

Crowley looks over you, gaze roaming up and down your body, and you squeeze your thighs together because you are definitely not wearing panties under this dress and, well, you aren’t looking for anyone to get a glimpse of that except for a man with a metal arm.

But Crowley mistakes it for something else, and a smirk breaks through his lips.

“You’re pretty,” he regards you, “for a whore.” Ouch. “Take her upstairs and I’ll deal with her later.”

Oh fuck. You really, really hope that Walker is up there and has the hard drive already. But as the bodyguard drags you up off the ground and toward the stairs, the pounding of your heart gets faster and faster and you’re pretty sure you’re sweating and wow, no one said that missions were this scary.

But you’re not about to call Bucky yet. Walker can get you through this. Probably.

In complete silence, the shooty-guy who definitely has a gun in his hand forces you up two flights of stairs and into a long, dark hallway. The only light is a flickering row of yellowed-out bulbs hanging haphazardly from the ceiling.

And, maybe it’s all the horror movies that someone likes to watch on movie night or something, but you get this horrible sinking feeling that you’re going to die in this ominous hallway, so you decide to act before you get dragged off to Crowley’s room.

You jerk to a stop, digging your heels into the stained carpet. Shooty-dude was not expecting that. He falters just enough that you whip out your leg and aim for the backs of his knees. You reach for the gun. Wrist in hand, you point it up, up, up at the ceiling. Dude lets your hair go to grab you. You send your head back with the force of a thousand suns, hoping it breaks his nose. Too short—clips his chin. Now you’re dizzy and your vision is going black at the edges.

His wrist slips your grip because you don’t know how to fight. Bucky taught you about twenty things and you remember exactly three of them—backs of the knees, head butt, and, oh, right.

You take your palm and shove it straight up into his nose. He dodges.

Shit.

And then, very suddenly and out of nowhere, bodyguard shooty-dudey is literally ripped away from you and thrown onto the carpeted floor, and Walker is on him. A sickening crack of his neck is all you need to hear to know it’s over.

You slump against the wall of the hallway, panting, looking at him.

“Did it really look like I needed your help?”

“Yes. Horribly.” Walker wipes a bloodied hand on the bodyguard’s jacket, glancing back at you. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” you reply. “Did you get the drive?”

He swipes a black box out of his suit jacket, shaking it at you, and you nod.

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. You press the tiny button on your comms device. “On our way down.”

A voice crackles to life. “You okay?” Bucky sounds worried and it makes you smile.

“Yep.”

“Good. Take the back entrance out of the club. Sam’ll pick you up. You’re doing great, baby.”

“This mean I’ll get a reward, Barnes?”

He laughs into the comms. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, doll. Be safe. I love you.”

“Love you more,” you tell him, and then you and Walker are on the move, out of the dingy hallway and toward the exit.

“So,” Walker starts, his voice still kept to a low rumble. “You and Bucky, huh?”

“Don’t.”

“Okay then.”

Thankfully, the rest of your trip is silent, because not only do you want to punch Walker in his stupid face every time he opens his mouth, but also because you hear the sounds of footsteps approaching, along with a familiar voice.

“Hope he tied the little whore up for me. Easier to fuck ‘em and kill ‘em like that. She didn’t seem too feisty though. Maybe I can keep her.”

You curse, grabbing Walker. Think fast, think fast, think fast.

“I need you to cover me,” you hiss. “Need you—God, can you work with me here? I need you to—”

Walker is very heavy and very uncooperative, you realize, as you pull him to the shadowed corner of the stairwell and try to arrange his limbs around you. He’s not very quick on the draw, lumbering and looking down at the stairs where the voices are floating up from, and at this point, you need to find whoever tried to make him Captain America and slap them in the fucking mouth.

Finally, you duck down and slam your back against the wall, pull Walker atop you, and take his face and slam his lips to yours.

And boy, it doesn’t take him long to get into the swing of things.

So yeah, in hindsight, you probably should have thought more about how your broody boyfriend was going to react to this. But also, your life was kind of on the line, and you really really really did not want to screw this mission up. It was bad enough that it was off the books thanks to Walker—no one but Torres would know where you guys were if you happened to die—but ruining the mission might mean that Bucky would be back on the chopping block.

It’s his job, you know. He’s a free agent, you know. He’s Sam’s partner and Sam won’t let anything happen to him, you know.

But also you’re just a tiny girl in a big world who shelves library books for a living. The only reason you know any self-defense is because your boyfriend is a reformed assassin. It’s like you’re living a double life. And, for god’s sake, he’s out there saving the world and shit. The least you can do is not fuck up one mission. Just one mission.

But man, Walker’s lips kind of taste like flat beer.

It’s enough that Crowley and his men brush past the two of you with little but a sneer and a shove of Walker’s back, who stumbles right into you, but you keep moving your mouth against his because you still hear them walking, and walking, and walking, and you aren’t ready to die but Walker’s nose keeps bumping yours and you haven’t kissed anyone besides Bucky in like three years, so this is super unpleasant.

And, god, if Walker’s hand doesn’t quit moving up your thigh, under the hem of your slick black dress, you’re going to have Bucky break his fingers.

In warning, you nip his bottom lip, and Walker pushes harder into you, caging you against the wall. As his fingers approach your hip, where he definitely will realize you aren’t wearing underwear, you slap his hand down and send your knee into his junk. He grunts into your mouth, but takes the hint.

Sam’s voice comes alive in your ear. “Where are you two?”

You don’t hear Crowley’s footsteps anymore, but you count one, two, three more seconds and then shove Walker off of you. He falls back, catching himself on the stair railings, wiping his mouth with a dopey look on his face.

“Damn,” he says, grinning.

You press your comms unit. “Ran into trouble. On our way now.”

“You good?” Sam asks, and this time, Walker chimes in.

“Better than good,” he replies, still staring at you.

“Gross,” you spit, then you’re breezing past him and rushing down the stairs.

He trails behind you, too close, and part of your brain reminds you that he has to stick close to you because it’s a mission, but another part of your brain is screaming that he’s acting like a puppy dog and not like you kissed him to save both your asses.

“Why are you even with Bucky? I don’t get it,” he murmurs in your ear—the one without your comms device—and even under the loud music of Vanish you can hear him.

“You don’t have to,” you snap back at him. “Our relationship is between us. Get lost, Walker.”

The door is right there. You can see it now as you slip past sweaty, drunk, dancing bodies. You just have to get out that back door and Sam will be waiting to pick you up, just like Bucky said.

But Walker’s hand slides over the silky fabric of your dress and his arm winds around your waist.

“But that kiss,” he says, near dreamy. “And Barnes isn’t your type of man.”

You turn back to glare at him. “Didn’t your wife leave you or something?”

His eye twitches. “C’mon,” he says. “I think we’ve got real—”

Before he can finish, you reach the exit and burst through the door and out into the back alley, the smell of rotting garbage, old piss, and blood filling your nose. Frankly, you prefer this trash over the trash spilling from Walker’s mouth right now.

But Sam, unfortunately, is nowhere to be seen. Immediately, you go to press your comms unit to find out where he is, but then Walker’s hand falls on your shoulder.

The next thing you know, your back is on the brick wall of the alley and Walker’s hands are on either side of your head, trapping you there. It doesn’t scare you in the least bit, even though you know it should, what with the fact that he’s a super soldier too. But your super soldier will come kick Walker’s ass, you know for certain, so there isn’t even an ounce of fear in you. Only anger.

“Get the fuck off of me,” you grit through your teeth.

“Just listen to me for a second,” he says.

“No!” You move to duck under his arm, but Walker grabs you and holds you there.

“I’m not asking.” He takes your chin in his hand. “I just want to know why you’re all over Barnes. He’s barely a person. Probably not even a good partner, if I had to guess.”

“Fuck you.” You gather the saliva in your mouth and spit directly at Walker’s lips.

The way his face contorts into fury, shadowed by the darkness of the alley, his eyes lit up by the neon of Madripoor, makes him look like a feral animal. And now you’re scared.

You saw the videos from Riga. You know what he’s capable of.

His grip on your chin tightens considerably, fingers digging into your jaw, and try as you might to swallow it, you whimper in pain. Walker tilts his head to the side, watching you, a tight smile finding its way onto his mouth.

“Is he better than me?” Walker demands. “You’d rather a brainwashed, broken super soldier than a decorated one?”

You try and speak but you can’t open your mouth. God, you’d give anything to tell him how much of a piece of shit he is, in fucking gory detail.

Like he’s reading your mind, or maybe he just wants you to stroke his ego, Walker’s grasp loosens only slightly, the pain still searing through your bones. But it’s enough that you can move your mouth, if only a little. It’s enough.

“He’ll always be better than you,” you manage to say.

Oh god. This is going to hurt.

You shouldn’t, you know, but you close your eyes anyway. Maybe it’ll help the pain of it. With a deep breath in, you steady yourself and wait for whatever Walker’s about to throw at you.

But nothing comes, and then suddenly his pressure is gone and you hear the familiar—god, thank god—sound of a nearly-silent metal arm invades your ears and your eyes pop open just in time to watch Bucky kick a heavy boot straight into Walker’s middle, the force throwing the blond across the alleyway.

You scream his name at the very same time that Sam rounds the corner, shouting, “If you kill him, they are not gonna give a shit about your pardon!”

Sam stops, takes one look at you, and his eyes widen.

“Are you okay?” he asks, taking a step toward you.

You point your finger at your boyfriend who is currently lifting Walker up by the goddamn neck—with his flesh hand, just to make a fucking point—and about to smear the poor dude’s guts across the brick.

“Stop him!” you yell, and Sam jumps into action.

“You think you can just touch her like that?” Bucky roars, slamming Walker back into the alley’s wall. “You think you that’s fucking okay? You’re out of your goddamn mind.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Walker tries to defend himself, stumbling onto the ground as Sam pulls Bucky off of him.

“Pardon,” Sam keeps repeating. “Conditional pardon. A very conditional pardon, Buck.”

“Her comms were on, you moron!” Bucky yells back, but ultimately lets Sam drag him away.

Your fingernail scrapes over the device in your ear and—lo and behold—the button had gotten stuck.

“You touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you, Walker.” Bucky is downright seething, anger rolling off him in tangible waves. “Pardon or no pardon, I will fucking murder you if you even look at her ever again. You think the Raft is bad? I’ve had much worse.”

“James Barnes!”

In an instant, Bucky’s eyes snap to yours, and then he’s rushing toward you. In barely two long strides he’s scooping you up in his arms and off the brick you feel indented in your skin, and he’s rubbing and soothing your hair and your back and your face and—goddamnit, Bucky Barnes—your ass, too.

“Baby,” he breathes, as if he hasn’t breathed in a millenia. “You okay?”

“James fucking Bucky Barnes,” you huff. “Right now I don’t even know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge.”

Bucky peers down at you, looking over you like he’s trying to make sure you aren’t bruised or scraped anywhere and that you’re really okay, and once he’s satisfied with that, a charming grin breaks through his lips.

“Can I pick?"

“Fuck you.”

You grab onto the collar of his leather jacket and pull him down upon you, and as if his lips were made for yours, as if he was made for you, your mouths slot together in a perfect kiss.

He tastes faintly of smoke and a little like blood, something you’ve become used to at this point. And his nose never bumps yours. Bucky knows exactly how to angle his face to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips as you let out a quiet moan of perfection, and his hands don’t wander. They only press into the small of your back so he can feel you against him.

Nothing like Walker. Only Bucky.

You pull away, gasping for air, and Bucky finds the crook of your neck and shoulder. He plants kisses up and down your neck as he holds you, your knees going a little weak, and you turn to find Walker.

He’s standing at the end of the alleyway, staring at you with a look of pure disgust.

You mouth one word to him before Bucky is calling you baby, grabbing your face, and kissing you again.

Told you.

#kits600challenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #divine masterlist #thanks for supporting me

[wistfulrat]

a 4-part rec list of my fave drarry fics - the thrillers, dramas, soft bois, and wankbanks getting me through 2020′s shitstorm

[the soft boi list is here and truly i’m not surprised this rec is going to be the longest bc if there’s one thing a bitch is going to do, it’s yearn.

as always! if you love a fic, follow the authors, leave kudos & comments, send them nice msgs bc free art is still labor xoxo]

part 3: soft bois

mood: for when I need respite, a balm to the all-consuming shittiness of life

includes: fluff, comfort, low-stakes, slow-burn fics. a wistful look, a rainy morning, an unexpected grace, a stupidly disarming joke. i could live inside these fics. the smallness of human lives removed from the site of that which hurts & irreparably changes. the story-equivalent of a deep breath after a long day. pregnant silences & pensive mundanity & shy smiles. banter with bite but without the cruelty. the color lavender. weirdly whimsical. soft fics are not necessarily conflict-averse (no drarry fic rly can be, considering the context) but, they offer the reader a generous distance from the initial harm. they’re the quiet cleaning up after a storm. sometimes healing is an exacting surgical knife and other times it’s a slow scabbing. you read these fics to be reassured that the way forward is not always ruthless. and honestly?? they deserve a semblance of peace godDAMmit.

The Way Down by @letteredlettered - 65k - T “and I thought that if someone talked to you as though you were a human being you might—maybe you could act like one” --the way i think about this line daily. the characterization of draco in this fic is one my favorites bc he’s earnest and neurotic and tired of harry’s shit. which is to say, he cares so so much. and harry doesn’t know what to do with that bc he’s got a monster in his chest and lives as a recluse. but they both humanize each other in ways no one else can. “you’re just a person” has to be some kind of drarry ethics of belonging and it makes me CRY. -

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by @greaseonmymouth and dustmouth - 96k - T “Maybe it’s not about deserving it? Maybe you just get to have it anyway. . .I’m allowing myself to want something and to let myself have it and to fight for it.” --harry runs a daycare and also works at a library. draco spends a lot of time in said library. they bond over sci-fi books and therapy anecdotes and quiet philosophical conversations held over cafeteria soup. and harry’s struggling to understand his asexuality. draco’s learning how to live with anxiety and depression. they both want to be deserving of love. incredible fic with beautiful art by dustmouth. - 

Open for Repairs by @drarrytrash - 35k - T “A few leaves rustle in the gutter and the muggle world pays no mind to them, to two lost boys holding on for dear life.” --all of their fics feel exactly like this. like you’ve been allowed to look at something private, tender, unexpected. draco, known abba fan, is a repairman in the muggle world & harry can’t stop breaking thrifted things in order to see him? say less, i'm thERE. also “I think I have a crush on you” goddddd  - other faves by them: Counting Down By Ten - 2k - T: draco’s stepped outside of the party for a smoke. harry follows him bc of course he does. i could read this 100 times and not get tired of it. - Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon - 36k - E: FUCKING HILARIOUS I CACKLED THROUGH THE WHOLE THING. draco’s wolfy problem and harry helping him and harry being flustered by how much he likes draco and draco’s hot heroic moment. shutup it’s perfect. “He almost asks if Draco ever gets tired of being a miserable complaining shit all the time, but he knows that he, personally, never ever gets tired of being a miserable complaining shit.” and “It’s the traumas,” Harry says gravely” --lines that live rent free in my head -

Harry Potter and the Future He Doesn't Really Want, Thanks by seefin - 70k - E “That was the only logical thing to do here, wasn’t it? It was the next step, it was the end of hurting each other and the beginning of the exact opposite.” --harry lives with luna and neville and also he dreams about the future sometimes? and he keeps running into draco. draco thinks this is sus as hell, until he doesn’t. feat. taxi rides, museums, cinemas, rooftop conversations beneath a lunar eclipse, mid-sex innocuous banter, draco and harry discussing nicki minaj. this fic charmed my ass off. seefin writes the most effortlessly hilarious dialogues. i smiled at my phone like an idiot at least 7 times. -  other faves by them: Wild - 93k - E: “he liked feeling needed, for the things that he was needed for back at the house in Ireland. For cooking and gardening and driving. Easy things.” --this shit makes me cry it’s so good. harry lives in Ireland with these three brilliant, hilarious, wandless witches and draco’s a potions student who's come to study under one of the housemates and the boys have so much shit to work through but their love becomes so tender and honest. draco yells at harry a lot and harry lets him and they both keep each other grounded in something real and fuCK.  - Divination for Dickheads - 7k - G: “I’m terrible at having crushes. I’ve never played anything cool a day in my life.” -- oh harry, we knOW. a bus ride, a fortune teller, an aquarium birthday party. god i love this fic. -

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic​ - 61k - E “But we’ve worked so hard at this, haven’t we? Yeah, I know it’s a horror to have to talk about it, but fuck it. We’re friends now, but it took so long to get here. Have you ever had to work so hard at something before?" --the steady blossoming of their friendship in this fic is so goddamn beautiful i want to yell. it’s draco and harry learning to trust each other and the whole thing unfolds so slowly, in this whimsical mix of london streets, wizarding politics, church halls feat. a Hot vicar, and a magical antique shop owner who’s married to literal poseidon?? goD the environment of this fic. immaculate. [also there’s a tender shower scene that makes me cry every single fucking time so if you read this fic pls dm me so we can be embarrassing about it together tbh] -

Nice Things by aideomai - 22k - M “He kept waiting for the weird shock of touch to not knock him clean out of his head, leave him quiet and warm and happy.” --8th year. harry forms an unlikely friendship with draco that begins with smoking weed on a windowsill. harry is touch-starved and draco touches him like he touches all his close friends - like it’s easy. the quiet affection in this fic, the way harry burrows himself into touch bc he’s been without it for his entire life. reading this is like being held. -

Running On Air by @tinyhistory​ - 74k - T “do you remember when we were eleven?” --alexa play coldplay’s the scientist it’s sad girl hours and we’re about to fucking yearn. you’ve seen this fic rec on every drarry list under the sun and i'm here to be redundant. the hype is so goddamn real. this story is a lyrical masterpiece held together by lines that act as refrains that will rattle around your brain until you die, probably. draco’s been missing for 3yrs. harry goes to find him. it’s their odyssey of homecoming. -

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken - 12k - T “But Draco, Draco was everything but boring. Draco made sitting in the rain watching an empty house fun.” --auror partners pining and draco being eccentric and harry being very earnestly gay about draco’s eccentricities!! god this fic is so genuinely fun skskd feat. undercover missions, murderous faeries, a book heist, a stunning navy dress, harry’s eyelashes. -

How We Throw Our Shadows Down by @thistle-verse - 14k - T “Draco is about to say something else— to thank Potter for what he’d done, however poorly— but Harry is smiling at him again, and it’s so soft and perfect that Draco holds in any inadequate words, lest he spoil it.” --draco collects tea cozies and of course harry has the one he wants. the sad and tender gays are at it again feat. conversations in the rain at a train station, melancholy Blaise, muggle photos, wizarding e-bay, the Dursleys.  -

Helix by Saras_Girl - 92k - E “Draco sighs in his sleep and Harry clings on to consciousness, needing to hold on, to give this tiny, insignificant moment the attention it deserves” --I think maybe you can describe every soft Saras_Girl story as giving tiny, insignificant moments the attention they deserve. like, this is an 8th year fic about snails and it’s full of whimsy, grief, compassion, and easy humor. an absolute must-read author in this genre if you want languorous, episodic fics full of distinct OCs and affectionate creatures. - other faves by them: Light up the Night Sky - 98k - M “Draco, sometimes you make my head feel like soup” --the one where harry is a fireworks artist and has a pet chameleon named ken. draco is on the wizarding arts council. they both pine like hell. - Headlights in the Snow - 71k - M “they stare at each other in silence, Harry’s heart beating so loud in his chest that he thinks the biddies must be able to hear it over the sound of their card game.” --the one where draco drives the knight bus and carts around the biddy club, a group of rambunctious old ladies who knit and drink tea and gossip. harry can’t help but fall in love with the everything about this. -

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 - 38k - T “Harry’s heavy thoughts lift at the sight, like dark clouds blown away from the sun by the wind. The tent doesn’t feel so cramped and stifling now. It feels cozy. And safe. It’s the same feeling that Harry gets when he’s at the Burrow for Sunday roasts, when a group of people who care for each other deeply are crammed into too-small a space.” --harry wanders to the lovegood house on a sunday afternoon. he’s baffled to see that luna’s taken pansy, greg, and draco under her wing. what follows is a summer of forest walks, scavenger hunts, gardening, water fights, odd cakes, faerie rings, and picnics. so many picnics. i love the pace of this fic, the innocent return to childhood things, the way luna brings out the best in all her friends. reluctantly soft slytherins are just *chefs kiss*!! -

Going Postal (A 125pg comic) by dustmouth - T what. a. beautiful. ass. comic. the wizarding fashion, the textures, the character design!! harry travels a lot for his job as a resourcer. draco works in the regulations dept. they pine like a bunch of lovesick idiots via field report notes. god i love dustmouth’s art. -

All the Earnest Young Men by @tepre​ - 29k - E “Draco is twenty-seven layers of personality wrapped up in drama and humour, and a wit so sharp it still stings when he doesn’t see it coming. But there is something below that, too. Something that makes Harry ache just looking at him.” --the way i would lay down my little life for tepre’s characterization of draco, whom invented the word earnest. he’s a magical art theory expert and portraits are disappearing all over London and harry’s the auror assigned to this case. and well. they’re both so very avoidant about how gay they are for each other and it’s like!! shutup and kiss!! which they do in fact, shutup and kiss.  -

Trenches by sara_holmes - 3k - M “Somewhere in the distant part of his mind that hasn't frozen solid, he thinks that maybe he and Draco are about to become more than auror partners, smoking buddies, wine-mates and co-inhabitants of a snow filled trench somewhere in western Scotland.” --the plot line here is literally “it’s cold and i need a fucking cigarette” but let me tell you how I never tire of the shared loaded-silences of two emotionally repressed gays. -

The Years Before Love by lomonaaeren - 13k - M “That’s one of the meanings of peace, he thinks, as Hermione hugs him...That he can do things slowly, softly, without worrying that they won’t be there tomorrow.” --andromeda taking harry under her wing and harry finding solace in teddy. narcissa and draco showing up and the tentative relationships that slowly develop in the quiet calm of andromeda’s house. found families and kisses in the snow and special xmas gifts ugh what’s not to love -

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight by Omi_Ohmy - 35k - M “I want this to be a house where people are welcome, where they don’t have to be any one way or another” --in which harry collects lost things--owls, best friends, inept bakers, potions experimenters--and turns the mausoleum that is grimmauld place into a home. feat. your fave drarry tropes like shared-beds and reluctant waltzing partners. -

[part 1: thrillers | part 2: dramas | part 3: soft bois | part 4: wankbanks]

#drarry fic rec #drarry fic #soft drarry #OK FINE I RAMBLED BUT WHAT DID WE EXPECT #alexa play futile devices

[palbabor-writes]

I just wanna say I love you and your writing! ❤️ You are a blessing to me, I always start freaking out whenever I see you post a new thing. YOU DESERVE WAY MORE ATTENTION JFHDJEJHEHE but may I have a smudge of virgin! dabi or shiggy with a dom! reader? Handjobs, blowjobs, deepthroating , riding them, the whole SHABOOM SHABANG PLEASE AND THANK YOU

daw, my love! you’re amazing & tysm for your support, it means so, so much to me. like, i can’t even tell you how happy i am to hear that.

& of course you can! i opted to go with Dabi, since i haven’t explored this topic with him yet & ever since i saw this ask i cannot get the fumbling, blushing, asshole that he’d be outta my mind. seriously, the topic of this ask has lived there, rent free, for dayyyyys. 

warnings: SMUT/18+ only, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, hand jobs, blowjobs and general fuckery

Things between the two of you had never been slow, or usual, or sentimental. Actually, love hasn’t come into the equation at all. It’s more like, easing an itch. But if you scritched and scratched it just right, god, it was divine. 

Dabi never let things get too far. He’d always bat you away, or roll to his side of the bed, broad back shutting you out, keeping you firmly in your own lane. Oh he’d kiss you and cup at your curves, but he never let you return the favor, snapping and snarling a string of curses and threats when you got too close.

He was like some sort of feral dog.

You could place the food down and leave the blanket out, but if you got too near, too comfortable, then the teeth would inch forward, keen, ready to bite.

At first, you’d figured it was simply who he was. He was short tempered and brittle and this extended to all members of the league. Not even Shigaraki was spared his jabs. It’s a miracle he’d let you step within sniffing distance. 

His fingers are always warm when they touched you, warm and calloused, whittled down to cinders and dark ash. He’s never gentle. Each caress is a challenge, some sort of task that needs to be dominated, beaten, acquired. It’s almost like he slips into some other mindset when he presses into you. He’s got to keep ahead, must win each pairing until there’s no question of who the victor is. 

Once, you’d managed to pin him under you. 

He’d relented the second your clothed center brushed against his burgeoning hardness, breath stolen, cerulean eyes wide. You’d never seen him like that before and you’d paused, hips lingering over his, head cocked to one side. 

“What?” you’d asked, voice soft in the darkness. He hadn’t answered, but his fingers trembled when they reached for you, urging you back into that age old shift and grind. When you passed over that bulge again he’d groaned, fire bright eyes slipping behind his quaking eyelids. 

Your hands cupped at his marred face, digits tracing over his too hot staples, awed at his unbidden reaction and the dusty stain of his blush. The rhythm you’d started began to deepen and he’d nearly arched under you when you rose up on your knees, but, unfortunately, you’d forgotten something vital as you let yourself be swept away by his ragged eagerness. 

It’s dangerous to let your guard down when you’re petting a wild thing.

As soon as your eyes winced closed, the world toppled to bits around you and Dabi shoved you from him, coiling away. “Get out,” he’d growled, eyes sharp as flint, arms wrapping around his bent knees. “Get the fuck outta here, before I...before I throw you out.”

So, you’d left; but you hadn’t forgotten. 

Days later, he’d stormed back into your room, eyes wild, skin blazingly hot to the touch. You’ve never seen him like this and you shift from your bed, pressing him to sit on the crumpled sheets. He looks like he’s seconds from shattering and his hands keep combing over his inky mop of hair, pricking the edges until they bristled from the static. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, hands patting over him, searching for the hurt. His skin feels damp and you splay your fingers over his heart, bewildered by the frantic pounding of the muscle. 

“Nothing,” he begins, voice tight, eyes refusing to meet your own.

Liar, you think, plucking at the white fabric of his shirt and shifting your touch to his back, praying your hand doesn’t come back red. He’s shit at taking care of himself and there’s always some fresh burn or loosened staple that’s etched across him each time he comes back to the hideout. It’s almost like he’s trying to mar and maim himself. 

“Dabi, you’re burning up...”

“It’s not...at least...I don’t think that...It’s not my quirk.”

“Okay, then what is wrong? This isn’t normal, so don’t tell me I’m overreacting. If you’ve pushed yourself too far you need to–”

“I just said it isn’t my quirk,” he snarls, and his eyes finally lift. The sight almost knocks you backwards. They’re vivid, despite the low light, but his pupils are blown and the black is eating away at the familiar shock of blue. He looks hungry.

“Dabi...Dabi what were you–”

“I tried to forget it,” his voice is dissonant, hollow, and you can feel your breathing kicking up as your heart starts to thrum against your breastbone. “I thought that I could...take care of it...but it’s not...it doesn’t work. I can’t...I can’t...look what you’ve done. Look at what you’ve fucking done!” 

Fingers curl under your bent arms and he hoists you onto his lap, slotting you over spread thighs, his mismatched lips dragging across your own. He’s sloppy and teeth clink as you settle, arms wrapping around his broad neck, digits coiling into his hair. He sucks and nips at your bottom lip, pressing until he’s lured a few moans from your throat, smirking as they vibrate into the chilled air. 

You know what he was doing now. 

How could you miss it, when it’s jutting against the swell of your ass, poorly concealed under the thin material of his sweatpants. Popping up on your knees forces him to break free of your kiss shined lips and you chuckle at his disgruntled scowl. 

“Want me to take care of that for you?” your voice is quiet, but he startles at the question, body quaking as a hiss leeches through his clenched teeth.

“Get on the bed.”

“I am on the bed,” you retort.

He clicks his tongue and you find yourself forfeiting your top position as he knocks you off of his lap, tumbling you onto your mattress. His lean body is bracing over you and he stills your protestations with another kiss. This time he’s smoother, tongue pressing past the barrier of your lips, twining and urgent. Warm fingertips tease along your dips and curves, pinching at your skin. He greedily swallows each gasp that you give him and keeps the pressure up, one hand cupping under your neck, tugging you closer. 

Distractedly, you start to pull at his tattered shirt but once you touch his rippled stomach, he yanks himself back. Not again, you inwardly groan, head flopping against the sheets. You can see him a little clearer from this angle and you study his abashed continence, unable to hide the smile that pulls at your lips. 

“Don’t...” he trails off, nose wrinkling as he looks away from you once more.

“It’s okay,” you bargain, fingertips tickling up his sides, delighted with the sheer heat of him. “We can just do this. I don’t–”

“I don’t want this,” he grits, jaw tense, hands fisting into the bedding.

“Alright,” you sigh, still toying with his shirt. “What do you want?”

“More.” 

It’s a simple demand, almost comically cliché, especially considering who’s uttering this from his scarred lips, but it still makes you shudder, a slick clench passing over your core. 

You bite your lip and he gives you a gleaming smirk, teeth shining in the moonlight. He’s tempting, but he’ll always be a danger; it’s too bad that’s part of his charm.

He moves with an agility that leaves you breathless and his fingers are unfastening the ties of your sleeping pants so quickly that you swear they blur. In an instant, cool air is lapping against your dampened curls and he’s already pressing a curious finger over you.

One arm is braced beside your head but his attention is wholly focused on the mysteries he’s finally revealed. You can hear his breath, hitching and panting as he blunders his way into your folds. His touch is rough, too rough, and you arch away, fingers knocking him from you.

Dabi sucks his teeth at your impudence, jerking you back to him as he slides closer to his prize. You can feel his exhales as they ghost over you, so close it makes you buck toward the tempting warmth. He notices and shifts downward, lining his inquisitive nose with your slit.

“You smell good,” he informs you, sucking in a heady lungful, a lazy grin stretching his staples. “Didn’t know that was a thing.”

That prodding index finger is back and it’s just as clumsy as it slips and skids across your flushed labia. He tries to slide it forward but he’s over estimated your entrance and it fumbles into nothing, a lone nail scratching as he passes. Your thighs instinctually clamp around him and he lets out another frustrated huff. “Stop that! How am I supposed to feel you up if you keep scooting away? Stop being such a bitch about it. It’s not–”

“It hurts you jackass. That’s why I’m moving. How would you like it if I just started pulling and clamping my fist on your dick? You’ve got to slow down. Here...” Your arms slip beside your ribs and you sit up, spreading your legs as your hand moves to your cunt, granting his wide eyes a good view. “It’s one thing to touch me, it’s something else entirely if you’re going to literally poke at me. Give me your hand.”

Dabi balks at your request, a dark glower breaking over his face. “I can do it on my own. I don’t need your help–”

“If you really think that, then you can fuck right back off to your own room. Go on. Gloomily masturbate yourself to sleep, hoping that the scent of me on your fingers will be enough to push you over the edge. But I don’t think you can, not when you know what you can have instead of your fist.”

His nostrils flare at the lewd bluntness of your words, but he doesn’t protest further, slipping his calloused and burned hand into your grip, submitting himself to your control.

You pry his index finger from the others and lower it to yourself, gliding him against you, showing him how you like to be touched. As you crest his finger tip over your clit he gasps at the shudder you give him, jaw askew and pupils blown. 

“Pay attention,” you scold, hips arching forward as you repeat the motion. “Use your thumb too. Yes, like that. Ah– very good. Think you’ve got it from here?”

He doesn’t give you any kind of verbal response, opting to swipe his pink tongue over his lips and scoot closer instead. As soon as your hand drops from his, he tests out his freedom, fingers inquisitive, almost gentle. He’s learned that it only takes a few swift tweaks to have you bowing under him and if he adds a circular pressure to the motion you’ll call out his name. 

When his tongue swipes up your budding arousal you keen for him, hands grabbing for the side of his head, fingers tugging against his hair. “Ouch! That’s not fucking fair,” he grumbles, the jagged texture of his lips sucking at you. “I can’t be rough but you get to do whatever the fuck you want, huh?”

“Shut up,” you gasp, marveling at the speed of his touches. He’s gained some confidence and each time you praise him the tips of his fingers heat up, applying a sinful warmth to your dripping pussy. “Oh, fuck, yes! Do that again, that felt so good. God, you’re perfect Dabi, so fucking perfect.” 

The groan that escapes him creates a marvelous vibration along your folds and your legs shake beside his broad shoulders. When he lets out another choked moan you belatedly notice that the edge of your bed is shaking. It’s a cadenced motion and you tilt your head to one side, searching for the source. 

Oh.

It’s Dabi. His legs are half propped against the bed and he’s worked his hips against the corner of the mattress, rutting himself in time with his slurps and pulls. When he yanks himself back you can see the spidery thread that’s attached itself to the sheets, strung from the deepening saturation that’s expanding across the front of his sweatpants. The sight of him, so lost in your taste and smell that he’s humping himself off, makes your cunt tighten, rings of muscle winking and closing against nothing.

“D-Dabi,” you eke out, eyes rolling back as he seals his lips around your clit again. “Use your...your fingers.”

“What?” he murmurs, voice disjointed and thin.

“Put your fingers in me.”

The demand has him shifting upward, slick chin and lips glistening in the moonlight. He gives you a few blinks, but then the full meaning hits him and he leers down at you. “I wanna put something else in you.”

You shake your head at him and his grin shifts to a scowl. “Why not?”

“You won’t last.”

“Bitch,” he grunts, wiping his mottled arm across his face, smearing your arousal off. “The fuck do you think you’re talking to? I’ll–”

“Stand up.”

“What?” His brows furrow and his lip sets into a tense pull.

“Stand up,” you repeat, already pulling your bare legs from under him.

“Why do you get to give all of the orders? You’re not the boss. I don’t have to listen to any of this bull–”

“Dabi, stand up and I’ll suck you off. It’ll make it easier, trust me.”

The words suck and off appear to leave him in the lurch, but he sways backwards all the same, hands already digging into his sopping pants. He rattles out a low whimper as he unsticks himself from the loose fabric, and you can’t help but smile at his renewed blush. Seconds later, they pool at his ankles with a quiet shush and you scoot forward, fingers itching to touch him. 

He’s an impressive specimen.

The length and girth of his swollen cock curves haughtily upward and you eye the rosy tip ravenously. That long string of precum has broken and it coils thickly against his velvety skin, so bright that it shines. You look up at him before your hand curls around his cockhead and he looks absolutely lost. In a matter of minutes this imposing man has gone from feral stray to placid pup and it’s all thanks to you. Awash in your own power, you wrap as much of him as you can in your grip, squeezing and pulling as you ease up to his sloppy cusp, gathering the cables of his want as you go.

When you start back down he lets out a very un-Dabi like yelp, eyes fading behind tensed eyelids. “Feel good?” you ask, adjusting your hold, repeating the upward slide.

He nods, clenched teeth bared as he tries his best to contain his wanton grunts and groans. “Dabi,” you taunt playfully, holding at his tip, dancing your finger pad over his bubbling slit. “I can’t hear you. I asked if if felt good?”

Cerulean eyes crack open and he fixes you with a blazing stare, but he ruts his hips forward all the same, his body oblivious to his outward need for control. Your fist clenches around him and the whine that leeches out of him is heavenly. 

“Answer me, now.”

“Ye-yeah,” he stumbles over the word, bottom lip quivering. “I want more though.”

“Oh? Think you deserve that? You couldn’t even focus enough to get me off a second ago.”

“What? You told me to stand up!”

“Mmm, yes. You’re right. You’re such a good boy, Dabi. So obedient and ready for praise.”

He tries to pull himself away, but another cant of your wrist has him stopping dead in his tracks, upper thighs shaking as you renew your tugs. “There we go,” you croon. “Look how big you get when I tell you how well you’re doing. You’re so hard baby, I know you wanna cum for me. You want me to swallow it all down? Think you can give me enough?”

Dabi flops forward at your last question, shoving himself into your tightening fist, doing his best to get close to the sinful temptation of your lips. When you surge onto your knees his hands snatch at your shoulders, blindly yanking you to his parted lips. 

His kiss is so distracted it can hardly be called a caress. Your lips merely rest against his and he breathes into you, sucking up your exhales with a frantic need. “Suck me off,” he gasps, eyes blearily meeting your own, the blue a glassy haze. “Suck me off, suck me off, suck me off.”

It’s like he can only ask for one thing now, hips pistoning forward as a long burst of precum oozes from him. The heat of this pre release is so hot it feels like it’s scalding the back of your hand, but you hardly notice the pain, too wrapped up in his trembling malleability. 

“Ask me nicely.” The request is whisper quiet and he instinctually shakes his head, forehead lowering to rest against the flat plane of your collarbone. “No? That’s too bad love. You were doing so well, being so good and so nice.”

When your hand starts to loosen that hard earned pressure he relents, own hands grabbing your upper arms as he holds you to him. “I want you...fucking damn it...I want you to let me fuck your mouth. I wanna fuck you. I want...I–”

“None of that came with a please.”

“Hnnnng,” he groans, lifting his head to sink his teeth into the dip of your shoulder, biting and nipping, vainly attempting to distract you.

“That won’t work,” you say melodically, listening to him slurp up some of his excess drool from your newly dampened skin. “It’s just one word. Say it and I’ll get down on my hands and knees. I’ll wrap my lips around this fucking perfect cock and suck on you until you can’t think. I want your cum. Fuck, I want it so bad. So be a good boy, hmm? Be my good boy, my only, and I’ll let you–”

“Please! Please, please, please, please! Fuck! Please suck on me, put your fucking slutty little mouth on me! Plea– oh...fuck!”

He tastes like the sea, all salt and brine. It lingers deliciously on the tip of your tongue. 

You dip yourself lower, mouth voraciously edging forward, sliding your seeking appendage under his length, tracing up the long sets of veins you find. Dabi curves himself over your head, fingers cupping behind your ears as he forces you into a quick rhythm. You’d dictated his movements earlier, so it’s only fair you give him a little leeway of his own, at least, for now. 

The mixture of suction and wet heat soon proves too much for him. His hips are already faltering, hesitating on each outward and inward lurch. It’s too much, but it’s also nowhere near enough. 

His voice is broken and his staples snag against your hair, but he refuses to let up, not until he’s gotten what he wants. He can feel your abused throat seizing around him and he’s intoxicated by the feeling. He wants you to choke on him, to gag on him, to run yourself raw. 

He might have said some of these wishes out loud. He’s not sure. Not when the world is so torrid and sloppy and searing with a lure that he can’t live without, not anymore.

Why had he waited so long?

This isn’t even your cunt. God, you’d smelled so fucking good and the taste, fuck, it’ll be years before he can wash that flavor from his lips, or his mind. Goddamn it, it’s not enough.

Dabi cums with a shout. The feeling of his release, as it singes the back of your throat, is abrupt and you sputter, hands doing their best to get you away from the otherworldly temperature of this man. He’s too blissed out to notice your lips slipping from him and some of his cum splatters over your bent knees, sizzling as it hits your unprotected skin. 

You wipe at the remainder of him and collapse backwards, head hitting the cool sheets with a dull flop. As you catch your breath you listen for him. He’s still perched at the end of your bed, but you can hear his breathing as it steadies. He’ll likely leave, you think, arms curling beside your head. He’ll grab his pants and go back to his room and that will be–

The grip of his hand startles a hiss from you and you soon find yourself blinking up at his leering grin. He’s jerked you downward again, but this time he’s slotting himself between your thighs, warm fingertips already teasing at your budded clit.

“I’m not done.”

tags: @libiraki - since i teased you with some of it earlier :3c                    

#asks #answered asks #pal muses #on dabi and his bad attitude #virgin dabi #eeeeeee #dabi #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #drabble #it's too long #again #whatever #:P

[giorno-plays-piano]

Blood in the water Part 2

Pairing: merman!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, non-consensual drug use, brief mention of breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 3496.

Part 1

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He started singing again, and you turned on Slipknot to the full volume, carefully slipping on your noise-canceling headphones you ordered not so long ago. They were really a blessing, but even with them and all the noise surrounding you Steve’s voice still rang inside your head. 

He had a beautiful voice, the one people would call heavenly, but his intentions were far from angelic: the first night you heard Steve singing to you, you had almost went to the beach where he was waiting his prey, charmed by his divine voice. Forgetting about the danger, you floated like a cloud to him, only half-awake and clearly unaware of your actions. The only thing that saved you that night was a sharp rock you stepped on, cutting your foot, blood coloring the cold ground as you broke free from Steve’s charms. When you ran home, covering your ears and singing loudly to yourself to silence his voice, the merman let out an unnatural, frightening growl behind your back.

Then Steve started doing it every night, serenading you by moonlight. It could be romantic if only the merman didn’t try drowning you in the sea, determined to make you “his mate”. Worse, with each passing day the mark he left on your neck was becoming more and more painful and itchy, and sometimes you were waking up with deep scratches left by your own nails. 

The villagers couldn’t do much about it, despite being deeply ashamed of their inability to tell you about the merfolk - you realized they had been under some curse as every time they tried talking to you about Steve they were simply losing their voices. Of course, it all made sense now. 

They helped you taking care of the wound, but from all the words they couldn’t say you understood you wouldn’t get rid of the mark easily. Thankfully, it stopped bleeding, but the nasty scar left by Steve’s sharp teeth had still been there. Well, you could live with it, you supposed, if only you leave this forsaken place.

When you got on the first bus, you had fainted in the middle of the trip for no damn reason. You looked so bad with you eyes rolling back into your skull, your body shaking uncontrollably, the driver decided not to risk it and returned to the town immediately, leaving you in a hospital again. Strangely, you woke up with no pain whatsoever, fresh as a daisy. It was the curse the merman gifted you - you couldn’t be too far from him now, dragged back by the mark on your neck, and your only chance to stay alive was either staying with him or taking him with you. 

Maybe you could get rid of the curse if you killed him, you weren’t sure. As far as you knew from locals, they didn’t manage to kill even one in the last several decades. You didn’t know whether you could, too. Even if you would get a chance to stab Steve, you hardly imagined murdering him. You just weren’t the type.

So, he kept singing in his attempt to draw you to the beach again, and you kept hiding in that little cottage you rented. Oh yes, you were also worried about the rent since the month you paid for was coming to an end, but locals just smiled at you sadly, shaking their heads. This was how merfolk was attracting new people to the town.

“But my friends and family will be searching for me.” You mumbled, covering your face with your hands. “I have a job, a life out there.”

“I’m sorry, sunny, but no one will be searching for you,” the doctor said, giving you a salve for your mark - it was easing the itchiness. “You don’t know the merfolk. They'd stop at nothing to keep their mates close.”

“But why, for God’s sake?” You growled helplessly, unable to face the man and staring at your shoes instead.

“Reproduction, sunny. Mermaids aren’t as fertile anymore, and they are facing extinction.” He shrugged.

“And how is it supposed to work? Human with a merman?”

The doctor patted your shoulder apologetically, shaking his head. ‘I can’t tell you, dear. I... I physically can’t.”

You knew what he was talking about and couldn’t be angry at him. These people couldn’t do much, forced to protect their loved ones and living in constant fear of being abducted by the vile creatures living deep in the sea. Most of the time merfolk didn’t come to the town openly, and that’s why those women were so upset you lived far away, completely defenseless. But they couldn’t open up to you, revealing merfolk’s secret, and now Steve kept you on the hook.

Groaning when the sunlight crept in through the curtains, you rubbed your eyes and slowly got up, taking the headphones away and touching your ears. God, it hurt so much, but it was the only way for you to sleep at least for a few hours while Steve kept singing outside.

Oddly, you couldn’t hear the sound of the music as if someone turned it off, and you immediately went to your laptop to check. Shit, you forgot to plug it in. Thank goodness Steve stopped singing before your laptop turned off.

Sighing, you went to the bathroom, opening the tap and splashing some water into your face to wake up. It was barely six, but the sun was shining brightly, giving you no chance to go to sleep - you had always been up with the sun regardless of your circumstances. Now it was one more of your curses, considering you barely slept. 

Watching your reflection in the mirror, you chuckled sarcastically, touching your bottom eyelid - you looked like you just came back from the dead. Would Steve be willing to let you go once he realized you’re no more the sweet beautiful lady he met? What a fucking bastard.

Feeling nauseated, you rubbed your face and went to the kitchen, reheating yesterday’s coffee. You had no strength to make yourself breakfast, even the simplest one. 

Next minute you were wrapping the blanket around yourself and heading out of the house with a mug in your hand, eager to watch the sunrise. You weren’t afraid of Steve since you had never even once spotted him on the beach in the daylight. Besides, you kept a little knife in a pocket of your pants in case you needed to cut yourself and become free from his charms.

You still questioned yourself what were going to do next. Even if your parents and friends would forget you because of the curse affecting them somehow, you still remembered them. You wanted your life back. You wanted to sleep at night, unafraid of being snatched away by someone hiding in the dark. You wanted to wake up, knowing you are safe, and go to work, have one more simple day, then returning back home. You didn’t ask for much.

Well, you would have to figure out how to live in this small town all by yourself, find a new source of income and pretend like no scary mythical creature lingered behind your back. Maybe you would have to ask doctor to make you deaf. It should help with the singing.

Suddenly, you saw a huge figure rising from behind a rock not very far from you. You froze on the spot, looking at Steve walking carefully on the beach. Despite wearing something reminding you of a torn human sweater, he was naked below the waistline, and you blinked, looking at his soft cock dangling in between his legs.

Legs. Steve had a pair of strong, muscled human legs. 

For a second you forgot how to breathe, watching him coming closer to you, his movements a bit unsteady and slow. You became rooted to the ground where you stood, unable to turn away and run from the monster too human to your liking. Was it his magic again? Was it you who couldn’t keep running anymore?

Biting your lips painfully, you felt tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Steve was wearing your sweater, albeit badly stretched out and torn in a few places - he was so much bigger than you it was a miracle he had somehow managed to put it on. You suddenly remembered how you were searching for this sweater a week or two ago, thinking you had forgot it somewhere in the cottage. How and where did Steve find it? Was he always able to walk? If so, why didn’t he take you away?

Well, maybe that’s what he was going to do now.

Finally finding some strength, you turned back to your cottage, eager to get away as far as possible from him, but then heard Steve’s angry, raspy voice, “Stay where you are!”

And you stood, moving back to face him and unable to do anything at all but watch. 

Steve looked as tired as you are: you saw the bags under his eyes, his full lips cracked, his expression exhausted as if your resistance was straining him. Wasn’t he supposed to be an invincible immortal being wandering the sea? He looked so much more human now you weren’t even sure anymore.

“You want my throat to bleed, don’t you?” He grunted in a hoarse voice, wincing when he spoke, and you realized he lost his voice after signing night after night to you. “I am doing my best for you, and you just turn on that horrible, distasteful music every night!”

You smirked - how dare was he to call Slipknot’s best songs “distasteful music”?

“This shouldn’t happen this way. You’re ruining it.” Steve continued to grumble as he kept coming closer and closer, and, oddly, you found out you weren’t as scared of him anymore as you were in that faithful night. 

“Ruining what?” You asked, sipping your still warm coffee when he approached you, wet and angry.

“The courtship!” The man exclaimed, breathing heavily - it seemed walking on his human legs was talking a toll on him. “You had to come to me, you stubborn woman! And what are you making me do? Come to you instead?”

He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut and touching his neck. It had to be really painful for him to talk.

Despite how wicked he was and how badly you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine, you almost felt pity for your merman, handing him your mug when he stopped close to you.

“What is this? Coffee?”

“With milk. Good for your throat.” You replied, acknowledging he knew of human drinks.

Gazing at you skeptically, Steve sniffed your mug and then took it in his arms, glancing at the liquid inside. “It’s hot.”

“It’s warm. You won’t burn your tongue.” You said, taking the blanket off your shoulder and wrapping it around his hips - seriously, you felt too awkward to stand near a man dressed in just a little stretched-out sweater.

“You and you fear of nudity, humans.” Steve grunted, but sipped the coffee, nonetheless, quickly getting used to it and finishing your mug. “Oh, this one isn’t bad. I tried espresso, but it was so bitter I couldn’t have the whole cup.”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around your own body and looking at the merman. What was he going to do now? He didn’t look vile, probably not as angry and upset as before, but who knew what he had in mind.

“So what? Are we going to stay here in the cold or you will bring me to your house?” Steve asked snappish while you snorted at him. 

“Really? I thought your plan was to drown me in the sea, not bask in the warmth of my bed.”

He grinned, pressing your mug to his impressive chest.

“Why would I drown you, silly woman? Come on, it’s cold out here in the morning. I want to stay at your place.”

He took your hand in his, and you finally moved from your spot as if Steve allowed you. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around him, you went to your house, thinking of the knife in a pocket of your pants. If he was planning to attack you, you could definitely stab him through your thin sweater or cut his throat. It would require some skill, though.

Entering the little hallway, Steve looked at the ceiling and winced from the mirror hanging on the wall, looking at his reflection. Shaking his head disapprovingly, he reached out to touch his swollen bottom eyelid. 

“I thought merfolk aren’t afraid of cold.” You said, entering the kitchen and emptying the coffee pot.

“Not in this pathetic human body.” Steve entered after you, rubbing his arm in your completely wet sweater.

“Then you have to take this off and-”

“What? NO!”

He jumped away from you and stayed in the corner like a kid hiding something from his mother. You rolled your eyes.

“Although this is MY sweater, I’m not going to take it from you. I just want to dry it, alright?” You ensured, coming closer. “You’re not going to get warm if you keep it on.”

“This is my sweater.” Steve grumbled, but took it off, regardless, and handed a miserable, partly discolored piece of fabric to you to let you hang it close to the heater, watching you intently - did he really think you’d ran away with your sweater?

When you turned to face him, your blanket wasn’t secured on his hips anymore, and you stared at his naked member again, your face growing terribly hot from the sight. What was that merman thinking? Was he flaunting his.. physique in front of you? You knew of some animals doing that to attract their mates.

“For goodness sake, cover yourself.” You huffed, taking a pack of milk from the fridge. “You don’t want this thing to freeze in the open, do you?”

“Wait, it can freeze if I don’t cover it?” His eyes shot open. “You mean I won’t be able to have children anymore?”

“Yes, this is exactly what I mean.” Oh damn, it was terribly hard not to laugh as you watched Steve looking at you in horror and hurriedly wrapping the blanket around himself as much as he could. It was hilarious. 

Putting two cups of milk into the microwave, you hit the button and pulled out some butter from the fridge to put into the cup once milk would be ready. You certainly didn’t need this hissing little mermaid who lost his voice because he sang too many serenades to you.

“So, what about the courtship?” You asked, stirring melted butter in Steve’s cup as he waited for you, sitting on a chair near the table. “How do you even imagine making babies with me?”

“You don’t know?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m a pro at that. I’m sure you will enjoy the process.”

“For God’s sake, Steve.” You groaned, placing a cup in front of him and taking yours. “Don’t play stupid here. I can’t live underwater. I can’t even fucking swim!”

“I’m not asking you to.” He shrugged and took his milk, ensuring it wasn’t burning hot before making a sip. “Though you won’t die underwater now. Believe it or not, you can actually breathe there because of my mark.”

You touched the scar, rubbing it with your fingers furiously and narrowing your eyes at the merman who, apparently, seemed very happy to see his mark on your skin. Once he reminded you of this thing, you were ready to snap at him.

“Do you even know how much this thing hurt?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“This is because you refused to come to me,” he cocked his head to the side, watching you growing angry. “I only need to kiss it to make you feel better. Don’t look at me like that! It’s true, let me show you.”

You stepped backwards immediately as he advanced upon you, caging you with his large body, pressing you to the kitchen counter, his skin cold. Pushing your hands against Steve, you tried to keep him away, but he was so much stronger than you that you almost ended up with your face buried in his chest.

“What the-”

He quickly lowered his head down and sniffed you, bringing his face to your neck. The next moment Steve was touching your scar with his lips, and you whimpered involuntarily, expecting it to hurt like hell. But it didn’t. He simply brushed his dry, chapped lips against your mark, and you felt nothing especially painful. 

You were growing tired of all this magical things you didn’t understand.

“See? There’s nothing scary.” He smiled brightly, and you saw he had human teeth now, too. 

“Yeah, yeah, now please go sit over there,” you grunted, but he didn’t move, laughing at you and ruffling your hair with his large hand. “What are you doing? Go away!”

“Don’t be so cold. You are going to share your life with me, silly woman, so don’t fuss over such little thing.”

You decided it was time for more effective measures and reached out to your pocket to grab the knife, but Steve grabbed your arm before you could do it, sending you a serious look.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”

“Really? I have some doubts.” You slapped his hand away, but didn’t try to take the knife again. “Because you have just ruined my life with that bite. How the hell this is going to work, anyway? How do you expect me to live with you? You’re a damn mermaid!”

“I’m a merman,” he said, looking resentful, and returned to his seat, sipping his hot milk with butter - apparently, it was working, and his voice sounded less raspy now. 

You exhaled loudly, enjoying the distance and rubbing your mark that wasn’t as itchy as before, but you scratched it, anyway.

“Listen, I’m not saying I’m totally harmless, but I’m not dangerous for you.” He said as he finished his cup. “You can remain living here, on the ground, I won’t pull you into the water... often.”

“Do you understand I can’t just go and be intimate with you, someone I see for the second time in my life?”

“I’d be surprised if you did. Look, I’m not asking for it either. The courtship doesn’t last for a month. You’ll get used to me, I know.”

His dazzling smile was making you feel nauseated, and you grabbed you cup, having a bit of warm milk, too. Steve was being impossible, but you were thankful he wasn’t forcing himself on you now. Maybe there was a chance to trick him into removing this hex, and you would have to figure it out.

“If you want to know whether we can have children together, I can tell you we definitely can. It doesn’t really matter whether I take my true or human form while making love to you, so it’s up to you how you wanna do it.” Steve grinned, and you clenched your teeth, unable to believe he was talking about it so openly, caring little for your consent. There was something barbaric in this charmingly handsome half-naked man sitting in your kitchen.

Suddenly, you felt like the nausea got much stronger, and merman’s smile wasn’t at fault. What was happening? The world was spinning, and you let go of your almost emptied cup, slipping to the floor. Shit, shit, shit. It wasn’t good.

Oh God. It was him, wasn't it? He had done something to you. He smiled and talked and laughed to make you relax, think of your situation like a simple comedy when, in fact, you were still in grave danger. Were you so stupid to believe him or was it his charms again? You hoped for the latter, curshing yourself for being too carefree and letting him into your house.

“Sorry, sweetheart, it seems I put too much medicine in your milk.” He clicked his tongue as you looked at him in horror, barely able to move now. “I thought we had more time to talk. But, well, we can always do it later.”

Steve was near you the next second, carefully lifting you up in the air in his hands, watching you with a bit of concern on his face.

He proceeded to walk in the direction of the door, but before he snatched your torn sweater and put it on his shoulder, carrying you outside of the cottage that had become your little fortress over these few weeks. However, it could keep the monster off your back, and now all you could do was watching the green door becoming further and further from you with each Steve’s step to the shore.

Your body was completely frozen when his feet reached the water, and the merman left a kiss on your cheek, stroking it tenderly despite that wicked smile on his face.

“I told you, you can’t break the tradition. It is time for you to come to me now."

THE END

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#steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #captain america #yandere #requests #mcu #mcu fanfiction

[the-beskar-alchemist]

Bucky x reader imagines that live rent-free in my head (I'm not a writer, but I really needed to get these off my chest)

I'm typically Mandalorian-centric, so if you prefer to avoid this little tangent of mine I have added a cut for your convenience.

My ADHD has me daydreaming CONSTANTLY, so if you're reading this than you don't mind tumbling down the rabbit hole with me...

1) Chubby!Baker!Bucky x Coyote Ugly!Reader - Reader has a meet-cute with Bucky at his bakery right after it opens one morning. A case of PMS leads reader to the only bakery with a dessert that will help her feel better. Reader is a bartender at the infamous Coyote Ugly in New York, fluffy romance ensues, reader stops by every morning at the bakery to visit Bucky before the bakery opens, and sometimes he'll even wake up in time to drive/walk her home after her shift.

2) Fullmetal Alchemist - Bucky is insecure about his arm, so he tries to avoid letting reader see it. Reader is an anime fan and LOVES the series Fullmetal Alchemist, so they decide the best way to show Bucky how cool his arm is would be to introduce him to their favorite cyborg character: Edward Elric. Fluff ensues, Bucky jokingly refers to reader as his "Winry".

3) Supernatural/FaTWS - During one of his therapy sessions, Bucky can't help but notice that Dr. Raynor has a new piece of artwork hanging on the wall across from the couch. It's a strange symbol that seems a little cultish, but Raynor brushes it off as something she found to "add variety" to the room. Later another super soldier is spotted wreaking havoc on New York.....a soldier with long dark hair....black clothes...and a silver arm. Some dark themes. (The symbol in question is a tulpa, when Bucky concentrates on his past life as the WS, while staring the painting, he inevitably brings the "character" to life).

4) Bones/FaTWS - Reader is sick of how Dr. Raynor speaks to Bucky, and asks if it's possible for him to get a different therapist, one with better experience in handling a veteran. They enlist the help of former colleague Special Agent Seeley Booth to help convince his former therapist, Dr. Gordon Wyatt, to accept the position. Booth also provides some wisdom on how to live with  red ledger as a former sniper, as well as having connections with the assassination of a president. Definitely some angst.

5) Law and Order SVU/FaTWS - Similar to the Bones crossover, except reader's former colleague is Dr. George Huang, a forensic psychiatrist and criminal profiler for SVU. Can Olivia Benson and Dr. Huang help heal Bucky in the way that he truly needs as a special victim himself?

6) The Mortal Instruments/Post-Endgame/Pre-FaTWS - Steve isn't actually dead, but fakes it in order to go into hiding so that he can finally "retire" in peace, but still stay in his regular timeline. The only people that know of this are reader and the people of Idris, Shadowhunters, who have agreed to give the great Captain solace in exchange for his services in helping to protect the sacred country. Because of Idris' supernatural protection, both divine and otherwise, Idris is undetectable by even Wakanda-standards, making it the perfect place to hide. Until Bucky finds out the truth, and demands reader take him there. Can he forgive Steve? And why was the Captain so desperate to run away from his best friend? AAAAAANGST.

7) Doctor Sleep/FaTWS - Reader is gifted with the "shining", and tries so hard to avoid accidentally side-stepping into other people's heads, but sometimes their efforts are futile. Reader accidentally side-steps into Bucky's head, and he hates the idea of yet another person messing around in there. He avoids reader as much as possible, but they're neighbors so they still encounter each other in the apartment building. One night Bucky has a nightmare, and reader can't help but sense it with the "shining", immediately racing to help. Angst for sure.

8) The Matrix/(whichever movie you choose honestly, they could all work)....-  Instead of Agent Smith spreading like a virus, it was Hydra that attempted to overthrow the virtual world of the Matrix, and overpower the Machines. Steve is the "One" the free-minded have been searching for, he is freed from the alternate reality, but Bucky remains behind. Bucky's "infected" by Hydra, his programming is rewritten to become the Winter Soldier. Can Steve help free Bucky's mind from Hydra's control? Or will Hydra take over and destroy Zion for good?

9) Gilmore Girls/Chubby!Baker!Bucky x Reader - Reader moved to New York from Stars Hollow a few years back, but will occasionally go back for a visit to see their favorite Inn owners Lorelei and Sookie. Reader gushes about Sookies cooking and baked goods.......and a slightly jealous Bucky is a little miffed that his Cupcake/Peaches (you pick) enjoys someone else's baking besides his own.

10) Treasure Planet with Pirate!Bucky - Captain Steve Rogers is a respectable sailor who becomes an unfortunate pawn in a scheme to steal a spherical map that leads to the legendary Treasure Planet......and Pirate!Bucky will do anything to get his hands on some of the riches.

11) Conventions with FaTWS!Bucky - Reader convinces her grumpy boyfriend to let loose and enjoy a comic book/anime convention. Bucky thinks it's silly at first, but he can't help his fanboy side when he sees some people cosplaying as his favorite characters. There's also the dealer's rooms where he discovers the feeling of buying things he likes just because, realizing how much he missed choosing things for himself. Bonus points if Reader cosplays as one of his favorite characters.

That's all I have for now.....I may fuck around and add more later lol

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #i'm stuck in my own head #send help

[upside-down-uni]

Hey! Idk if this is too much t9 ask, but could you rec me 2, 19, 20, 45, 55, 63, 69, 71, 72, 75, 86, 104, 111, 116, 131? sorry if it’s a lot but thanks in advance if u can rec me some! :)

Hi, you're in luck! I have an essay to procrastinate on and this ask is just the right thing to distract me! Here you go, I hope you'll find something that you like:

2. a book with a blue cover

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman. When i read it for the first time I was just on the brink of going to uni, still figuring out what I even wanted to study and this book just wrapped me in a warm blanket and said "it's going to be okay". I love the main characters Frances and Aled, their arcs and especially the really nice and quiet queer rep in this book.

19. a book that put you in a reading slump

The Knife Of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. When I start a book I generally have the feeling that I can't put it away until I have finished it. With The Knife Of Never Letting Go my problem was that I did want to read it but it didn't fit my mood, so I couldn't bring myself to read it but also beat myself up about not reading it until I put it back onto my shelf. So, I basically pushed myself into a reading slump over this book.

21. a book with a red cover

Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers. I enjoyed this book so much but probably not for the reasons most people would think I enjoyed it? The wlw romance was definitely nice and I really liked them being dramatic but also kind of mundane? What really got me though was the strong theme of found family of young adults and queer friendships, that really yanked the yearning hours wide fucking open for me. (I also liked that in the end the book wasn't as much about romance as it was about finding yourself after surrendering yourself to academia for ages and working through your issues.)

45. a book featuring the friends to lovers trope

The Priory Of The Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. I adore this book. It's so long and there's so much incredible world building and history in it that it made reading an untter delight! Coming in it was a bit hard to acclimate to the slow paste but after a while I just settled in and enjoyed the ride. It's a breathtaking story in a breathtaking universe and afaik there's a second part coming!

55. a book with a satisfying ending

Yolk by Mary H. K. Choi. Yolk doesn't really have an ending in the sense of a "happily ever after" but I really loved where the author chose to leave the characters and how she did it. The book is quite different from what I usually read, tonewise, but especially that ending made me leave the book with a warm feeling. (also the cover is yellow and really really gorgeous)

63. a book that actually made you laugh out loud

I would've reccd Red White and Royal Blue but judging by your url you've read that already...sooooo, it's Snapdragon by Kat Leyh! Super cute graphic novel, with a weird and adorable storyline and such lovable characters!

69. your favorite mythological retelling

I haven't read a mythological retelling in ages, so basic Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan will have to do.

71. your favorite LGBTQ+ fiction

now that's just rude how am I supposed to choose?? I'll say it's Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire and Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir and Loveless by Alice Oseman. I feel very strongly and very distinctly about all of them, if you can get your hands on them my only comment is READ. (and maybe make sure you're okay with gothic sci-fi horror for Gideon The Ninth)

72. a book with a gorgeous cover

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth. It's her adult gothic horror debut after The Miseducation of Cameron Post and not only is the hardcover just stunning in black and red, it also got illustrations inside!! (And all teh women are queer and it's deliciously fucked up!)

75 a book featuring the I'm not like other girls trope

I think the closest I can come to that is The Lady's Guide To Piracy and Petticoats by Mackenzi Lee. The main character has to unlearn a bunch of stuff really fast if she wants to get along with the only other people that will help her. We have road trips in the 16th century, kidnapping and asshole husbands to be, piracy of course and friendship!

86. a book with an insane plot twist

Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand. Sawkill Girls was my first touch with horror and I have to say I have no idea whether there was heavy foreshadowing. I think I remember thinking that there was something else to come but when the shit hit the fan I just sat there with big questionmarks over my head because I had read the book in a frenzy in one evening and truly did NOT anticipate it. As someone who did not read horror or thriller before this I have to say I was already insanely confused and disgusted by a bunch of stuff that went down. But then...uh. the thing happened and I was just lost. (In a good way though.)

104. a fluffy sweet read

Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann. It's been a while ever since I read it but it's essentially a cute summer story about Alice who's a disaster bisexual when she sees people she finds cute. Which is a little inconvenient because the new guy at her job is really, really, really extremely cute and she ceases to function around him. There's best friend drama, eating pizza iirc and figuring shit out!

111. a book writing a book

I assume it's either "a book about writing a book" or I am literally supposed to rec a book that is writing a book...I'm going to rec a book that is about books! (because I can.) It's The Girl Who Reads on the Métro by Christine Féret-Fleury and it follows a young woman called Juliette wo gets sucked into an old bookseller's world of life saving, life changing books. A really quiet, really cute book.

116. a book with multiple povs

the Reckless books by Cornelia Funke! Simply divine stroytelling, a vibrant world and amazing characters! I have to say that I only know the German original so I don't know what the English translation might be like.

131. recommend any book you like

um. so knife gang members and people who follow my main, you'll once again be subjected to me being a mess because of lesbian necromancers in space! I've mentioned it before, it lives in my head rent free, it is the one, the only Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir! It's an insane sci-fi horror fantasy blend where Gideon has to play cavalier to Reverend Daughter Harrowhark I-love-being- an-absolute-pain-in-the-ass-to-Gideon Nonagesimus to help her become an uber-necromancer (like Harrow needs motivation to become even more of a nerd and shockingly good at necromancy) for the Necrolord Prime/Undying Emperor. There's BEAUTIFUL WRITING sprinkled with MEMES when you least expect it. There is incredible toxic codependency and repression. There's MURDER. There's fancy necromancy theorems and DUELS. There's enemies to begrudging allies to ??? Staple your socks to your feet or this book will blow them clean off!

#book rec asks #mo answers #thanks for asking! #idk when you sent this ask but it popped up in my inbox just today so here you go!

[send-me-your-hcs]

Mafia boss Tony sends his son Peter away at a young age to live with his aunt and uncle. Every month he goes to visit his son. Maybe he takes Peter somewhere nice like the movies or Central Park. Without fail, their nights together always ends with Tony balls deep in a sobbing Peter. A support check arrives for Peter the next morning.

Oh fuck me I love this prompt. Ty anon

Warnings: Age unspecified Peter but IMPLIED very underage, incest, noncon, creepy dark bio dad!Tony, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

“You’ve grown.”

The boy sinks lower in his chair, attempting to hide behind the other side of the table. He still hasn’t looked Tony in the eyes once since he picked him up from the Parkers’. It goes beyond Peter’s regular shyness - the boy is fidgety, morose. A typical teenager, maybe. Except that he’s not.

When Tony gives him an impatient look, Peter meekly shrugs, responding without responding. He’s always been a very quiet boy, but the silent treatment is especially irritating. Tony takes a sip of his wine in an attempt to crush the feeling. Their visit’s only just begun. It’s too early to fight.

When the waiter comes to refill his glass, Tony says, “And one for him, too.” Peter looks up, shocked, adorably concerned, but the waiter doesn’t bat an eye as he fills the empty wine glass beside his iced tea. This isn’t the first time Tony’s brought his son here. Even if it had been, everyone knows they’d lose a lot more than Tony’s business if they dared refuse his request.

Peter stares at the glass once the waiter leaves. Tony smiles at him as he sips his own, but the boy’s gaze is fixated. “Drink up,” he orders softly, watching the worry deepen on Peter’s handsome face. He doesn’t move. “Drink it, Peter.”

The boy’s hands shake as he lifts the heavy glass to his lips. Everything about it reminds Tony how young his son is - the way his face scrunches up at the taste, the way he carefully lifts the glass by the bowl with both hands, not trusting himself to use the stem. The way his hands look terribly, unbelievably small, his fingers short and thin as they wrap around the wide bowl beneath the rim. He truly is just a little slip of a thing. Bigger than last month, sure, he’s at that age. But only just starting the long ascent into adulthood.

It’s only been a month since they last saw each other, but already, Peter’s hand-me-down clothes are fitting just a little better than they were before, not as loose and baggy around the ankles, not hanging as low down his thighs. The Parkers tried to dress him up, as they always do, but they seem to have some aversion to using Tony’s money to buy his son nice things. The button-up shirt and dress slacks they wrapped him in are clearly Ben’s, trimmed and hemmed amateurishly to fit tighter on Peter’s skinny body. Any charm the look has is only attributed to the fact that it’s Peter wearing it.

“Apparently I need to take you shopping,” Tony muses, mostly to himself. “Drink, Peter. We’ll have a different wine when dinner is served.”

Peter takes a long, deep breath through his nose and lifts the glass to his lips again, then steels himself and gulps the rest of the burgundy liquid down. Tony chuckles, pointedly not mentioning that the alcohol is going to hit him much faster now, and lets the boy go back to sulking, tense and silent, in his chair.

—

After dinner, Tony loads a wobbly, light-headed Peter into his car and drives him to the Hall of Science. Peter is a little more animated as they walk around and take everything in, but Tony suspects that’s mostly the alcohol’s doing. The boy still hasn’t said much and he shies away when Tony wraps an arm around his shoulders, flinching at the contact. Tony buys him a little souvenir at the giftshop and ruffles Peter’s hair when the boy mumbles a quiet thank you.

They don’t say a word on the drive to the hotel. Peter’s never once asked why Tony doesn’t bring him to the penthouse during their visits, and Tony’s in no hurry to tell him. If the Parkers have told his son what he truly does for a living, behind the scenes, Peter’s never acted differently for it. He’s still the same sullen little boy he’s always been.

The room Tony rented is a bright and vast penthouse suite that costs more money per night than the Parkers pay for their monthly mortgage. The California King bed stands in the middle of the main room like a centerpiece, drawing your gaze to it as soon as you walk through the door. Tony suspects that’s not the reason Peter hasn’t taken his wide eyes off it. He stays huddled in the foyer, fidgeting with the toy Tony bought him at NYSCI, looking terribly lost.

Tony pours himself a glass of scotch at the bar and pulls his tie free from his neck. “Come here, Peter,” he calls gently, watching the boy teeter and debate whether or not he should obey. In the end, he knows there’s nowhere else to go. He keeps his head down as he shuffles his feet forward into the room, like he’s dragging himself towards his father.

Tony sips his drink and looks the boy over. He’s growing up. Every month he gets more beautiful, his features filling out to define his gentle face. If he resembles anyone in their family, it’s Tony’s own mother, with that soft head of hair and big, dark bambi eyes.

He cups the boy’s chin, thumbing over his bottom lip. Peter’s eyes are already glazing over with tears. It makes Tony’s skin itch, all the little hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Peter has always been so receptive to him. Always reacting. Feeling. Submitting.

He takes the back of the boy’s head to hold him still, grip tightening ever so slightly as he leans down and kisses him.

—

Harsh, labored breaths ghost over the pillows Peter’s face is buried in. Tony trails kisses over his shoulder blades, hips still gently rocking as he rides out his orgasm. Peter’s knuckles are bone-white as they clutch the sheets, strangling the soft material for all he’s worth.

Tony pants against his son’s back. The silky clutch around his softening cock is absolutely divine; warm and dripping wet where they’re still sealed together. Peter’s back trembles as he struggles to hold in his hiccuping sobs, making his tight skin dance across Tony’s lips.

“My good boy,” Tony sighs happily against Peter’s glistening skin. He kisses him again and grinds his hips against Peter’s ass, grinning when the boy whines and shivers. “Did you get off, honey? Did you come for Daddy?”

Peter gives him a stiff, curt nod, but when Tony wedges a hand beneath his hips to his pelvis, he finds his cock still hard, the tip leaking. He clicks his tongue in disapproval and wraps his hand around the boy’s shaft. “Peter. Why are you lying to me? It’s obvious you didn’t come.”

“I don’t want to,” Peter slurs into his pillow, pleading. “I just wanna go to sleep now, Dad, please.”

“That would be rude,” Tony scolds, pulling back so he can roll the boy over. Peter is quick to bury his face in his arms, trying to hide his tears, as if it’s the first time he’s ever cried during sex, and not the norm. “Let Daddy make you feel good.”

The whimper that leaves Peter’s pink little mouth when Tony swallows him down is gorgeous. He encourages Peter’s hips to rock upwards, rutting against his face, until the broken sobs turn to pleasure-filled groans. Tony trails his lips up to the head of Peter’s pretty little cock and back down, sucking hard, smiling when Peter’s hips stutter, his orgasm fast approaching.

He pulls back in time to let the boy finish all over his cute little belly. Peter’s labored breaths return to quiet sobs, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to pierce the skin. “Don’t do that,” Tony says, pulling Peter’s lip from his teeth with the pad of his thumb. “You’ll leave a mark, Pete.”

Peter drops his arms from his face. His eyes stay glassy with tears and glued to the ceiling as Tony wipes the come from their bodies with Ben’s old dress shirt.

“I’m going to give you a little extra this month,” Tony says as he tosses the filthy shirt away. “I want you to use it to buy something nice to wear for next time. Don’t let May talk you into buying something big enough to grow into - I’m going to give you extra for a tailor, too. I want you to see one before I pick you up next month. Got it?”

Peter says nothing, his gaze still stuck to the ceiling. The goddamn silent treatment. Tony snaps his fingers in front of the boy’s face and says, “Pe-ter. I’m talking to you. Did you hear what I just said?”

A shiver wracks the boy’s body. He turns his wet-eyed gaze back to Tony’s face and nods, sullenly.

“Good. And you’re going to be a good boy and do as Daddy says?”

There’s a beat of hesitation. Then another nod, Peter’s lips parting so he can softly mutter, “Yes, Daddy,” before closing his eyes and turning away.

#starker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #ru answers #anonymous

[chews-erotically]

Waxing Gibbous 

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

 *****As ALWAYS, if I have added you to the tags and you wish to be removed, just ask and I will do so immediately******

      * Warnings: SMUT (mutual masturbation, PIV sex), some plot too, comfort

      * Summary: Ezra’s recovery continues. You introduce him to a new way of living, one he cannot immediately embrace.

      * Word Count: 2800

*Part ONE* *Part TWO* *Part THREE* *Part FOUR* *Part FIVE* *Part SIX*        *Part SEVEN*  *Part EIGHT*

PART NINE

     Ezra spent an additional three weeks in the hospital after he’d awakened. His recovery was arduous, but his medical team remained impressed by his sheer determination. The same drive he’d shown on the cursed moon to harvest, to succeed, to survive, he showed to recover. Recover he did, working diligently with doctors and physical therapists seemingly around the clock.

    You only went back to your loft to shower and change. You had rented a cot, not dissimilar to what you’d been used to before, and you slept beside him each night. You couldn’t stop yourself from awakening several times in the night to ensure he was still there, still breathing. He’d long since been moved out of the ICU and into a room on the Med-Surg unit. He’d proceeded to charm each doctor, nurse, custodian and aide with equal amounts of wit and candor. They would make special trips to his room to sneak him his favorite treats and second helpings of his favorite meals under the guise of “needing to put weight back on.” Ezra would thank them graciously, grinning conspiratorially.  

    The first time he’d walked three laps around the unit without any assistance was the day you finally knew he was going to be okay. He was told that afternoon that he would be going home in a week. You had thrown your arms around him as he’d laughed and knocked sideways into his bedside table.

    That night, you’d crawled into his hospital bed, squeezing in beside him. You nestled yourself into his warmth, his arms reflexively winding around you to pull you closer. Ezra sighed and hummed into your hair. You’d thought him still asleep, until he whispered softly into the darkness.

    “.....Dove. Can’t wait to be home with you….” His large, warm hand rubbed up and down your back before circling around your hip, then your waist.

    “....can’t wait to be in a bed with you. A real bed.” His fingers spread, his hand coasted lazily up your abdomen and palmed your breast. Your soft gasp echoed into the dark hospital room as you arched into his palm. His fingers zeroed in on a nipple, tugging through the thin material of your tank top. You mewled, hot explosive breaths against his chest. When he craned his head down to bring his mouth to yours he kissed you slowly, deeply, his tongue darting and curling. You bit at his bottom lip and gasped into his hot, sinful mouth.

    “Ezra, you’re killing me.” You felt his lips curl wickedly upward. He began to speak to you lowly, in hoarse whispers, punctuating each thought with a nip to your throat, all the while pinching and pulling at you through the fabric of your shirt.

    “....Been dreaming of you. How you lose the ability to speak when I’m splitting you open. The sounds you make. The sounds that cunt makes when I rock into it. The way you shake when you fall apart….”

    He had nudged his knee in between your legs, and you found yourself rhythmically rocking your core against his thigh. The burning fullness between your legs was making you leak your fluids onto his skin, your clit grinding desperately onto him. You were certain he could feel you through your cotton shorts. You whimpered pitifully as he continued.

    “It’s killing you that we can’t do any more than this right now, in this bed. Anyone could walk right in, Dove.”

    He released a filthy groan against your mouth when you reached down to wrap your fingers around his hard length through his underwear.

    “Careful...be careful, darling girl. I’m not in a mood to stay demure and restrained. I sincerely encourage you to continue if you wish for this whole building to hear our intimacy.”

    “Ezra….fuck, I want you. Please, I need to touch you.”

    Ezra knocked his forehead against yours. You knew his eyes searched to catch yours in the darkness.

    “I need you to wait and be patient for me, sweetheart. When I take you next it will be in our own bed like you deserve.”

    You leaned forward and bit his shoulder through his shirt. He gave a startled gasp before chuckling darkly. You groaned in frustration.

    “I need something, anything…..s’been so long…”

    “Lie down on your cot, Dove. Touch yourself for me. I want to hear how slick you are as you get yourself off to the thought of me buried inside your sweet little cunt. Touch yourself, and I will do the same. Let us fall apart for one another until I can express my desires to you properly.”

    You barely hesitated before moving off his hospital cot to remove your shorts with shaking hands. No sooner were they discarded than you were splayed on your back on your cot, legs spread wide, wanton. You heard rustling from Ezra’s cot as he maneuvered his shorts down to free his cock. You heard the rhythmic, wet sounds as he began stroking himself in earnest.

    You moaned when your fingers dipped down to your entrance, marvelling at how soaked your slit was. Scooping your arousal with two fingers, you began to circle your hard, aching clit. The wet, sinful sounds of your aroused core reverberated through the room as your fingers circled, pressed. Your breath hitched, your hips arched off of the cot and thrust of their own accord. You both moaned and gasped into the still air.

    You could hear Ezra’s cot creaking. He was mumbling half- sentences, pausing to whimper and you could hear him stroking faster. You pictured his hips cana was as  ting up as he fisted himself.

    “Fuuuuuuuck. Fuck I’m so close. Can you hear me Ezra? I need you to hear what you’re doing to me.”

    “Divine cunt. Mine….I can smell it. Smell you….. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holyshit…”

    He stilled, screaming lowly as he reached his end. Gasping, breath hitching.

    The fingers of your other hand pushed themselves into your passage as your other hand, still circling your clit, began fast, rough. The rhythm of your hips faulted as your orgasm suddenly slammed into you. You bit your lip so hard you may have drawn blood. You gasped and groaned as you felt your cum spill out of your seizing hole and coat your hand.

    “Ohhhhh.. Oh fuck. Oh fuck…….” Your breaths melted into whimpers as your hips slowed their twitching. Finally spent, you yawned deeply and turned on your side to face Ezra.

    “Still not the same,” you whispered up into the outline of his face. “But if we ever do this again, I want to see you.”

 ***

    You got to the hospital as early as you possibly could on the morning of Ezra’s discharge. You had helped him pack what meager belongings he had the evening before to bring to your apartment. You’d cleaned every surface furiously, and adorned your balcony and interior surfaces with wildflowers and vining greenery you’d purchased from a local nursery.

    You brought with you new clothing, something comfortable and casual for him to wear, as well as a pair of loafers lined with fleece. You did not know what he preferred to wear; as well as you knew him, you’d never really seen one another in anything other than threadbare sweats or protective suits. You smiled to yourself as you thought of Ezra being able to buy himself nice clothing, of purchasing music he’d talked to you about for hours on the Green. Large, glossy hardcover books whose spines cracked when you opened them for the first time.

    You knew you still had a lot of firsts coming with Ezra. You walked into the bustling lobby and quickly found his room. Ezra was pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath. When you entered he’d immediately stopped and came to you with a wide, beautiful smile.

    “I have dreamt of this day for countless stands, sweet love,” he crooned as he wound his arms around you, crushing you to his chest. “My feet will deign not touch the earth in my haste…”

    “Slow down a bit, Ez. I brought you some clothing...I hope you don’t hate them.”

    He gazed down and you saw how his eyes shone in the early morning light. You loved him so much that your chest ached.

    “I could never hate a single thing that passes from your hands to mine, Dove. They are perfect, as are you.” He craned his head down to ghost a kiss across your parted lips. It was chaste, soft and brief, yet you still felt the jolt settling low in your belly, growing warm and tight. You had not forgotten his promise to you during that one desperate night.

    Ezra changed quickly as you waited. There was no need to excuse yourself- you’d both been through too much to be bashful. When he’d finished, he stood before you grinning with hands on his hips.

    “How do I look, Dovie?”

    “Like an angel.”

 ***

    You could tell that Ezra was overwhelmed by the bustling streets of Central. His head whipping around, unsure of what to focus on. Eyes darting, mouth set in a line. You’d grabbed his hand and led the way through undulating throngs of bodies that squeezed, nudged, jostled. Your heart ached with sympathy as you recalled the chaos of your own first experience. You knew he needed time, as you had.

   You wasted no time when you arrived at your brownstone building, briefly greeting the doorman on your way through the lobby. Confusion crossed Ezra’s face as he took in lush carpeting and the ivy that wound itself up an exposed brick wall.

    “Pray tell, who was that man at the door, Dove?”

    You giggled, pressing the button on the elevator. “That is Brice. He’s the doorman, he’s very nice.”

    His eyes were wide. “We have a doorman?”

    “I know, crazy, right?”

    You entered the elevator. As the door whooshed closed you noted apprehension on Ezra’s face. You reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly, and his features smoothed once more when he caught your small smile.

    Soon enough you were at your door. You turned to Ezra and handed him a thick metal keycard.

    “This is yours. Try it.”

    He paused only momentarily before swiping the card. He reached out to the door handle, holding his breath. You bounced on your heels like a child, pushing him forward.

    For one of the few times in all the days you’ve known Ezra, he was speechless. He roamed slowly through the wide open foyer, basking in the natural light streaming through the windows. He reached out a hand to gingerly caress a granite countertop. He caught site of the doors to your balcony and stood before them, hands hanging motionless at his sides.

    You sidled up next to him, winding your arm through his.

    “Do you like it, Ezra?” you asked softly, looking out over the city beside him.

    Ezra turned to you, holding your eyes steadily. His hands moved down to grasp yours.

    “I could never have imagined something so grand. This hardly feels real. Truthfully, I am unsure that I did not perish on the Green…” His hands moved up your arms to cradle your face. He leaned in slowly, exhaling into the cup of your ear.

    “Show me our bedroom, Dove. It’s been long enough.”

    You grabbed his hand, pulling him behind you down the hallway. He reached out to grasp your shirt as you stumbled and bumped into walls, desperate to feel you. You assisted him as best you could, and when you entered a room easily four times the size of your former tent, you heard his gasp.

    You had spent an especially long time considering what you had wanted in a bed. It had been far too long since you’d had a proper bed, and so you spared no expense in finding the softest mattress, the sturdiest headboard. Your bed extended down an expanse of wall, covered by soft, downy blankets and piled with pillows.

    “It’s...magnificent,” he murmured, reaching down to run his hand across the silken texture of the coverings. His hand moved up to hastily push aside the pillows and pull down the blankets. He hastily disrobed, shoving his shirt up while you joined him in freeing him from his pants. You divested yourself of your own and he caught your lips in a desperate kiss as he tumbled you backward onto the bed. You rolled him onto his back and straddled him, grinding your hips against his hard, swollen length. Ezra was moaning loudly, straining up to maintain contact. Between the sinfully soft blankets and mattress at his back and the heat from your cunt as you spread your arousal on the throbbing skin of his cock. You leaned forward to capture his lips, your hands restlessly moving over his shoulders.

    “My beautiful man,” you crooned. “This is what we deserve. You are worthy of this. I need you.”

    “Then take me. Ride me, sweet girl. Bless and baptize my cock with your heavenly slick.”

    You positioned your dripping core over his head. You sank down slowly, feeling his thickness stretching you open, breaking you. You could not hold back the low moan bursting out of you as his cock reached the end of you. You stilled, after so long you had to allow yourself a moment to adjust to his size. You panted in low groans as your walls twitched and fluttered around Ezra’s incredible length.

    Ezra gazed up at you reverently, biting his lip. He whimpered when your cunt squeezed him, hands reaching out to fasten on your hips.

    “Fuck….f-fuck, sweatheart. Forgot how fucking perfect you feel. Sweet Kevva. Use me, sweet girl...take what you need.”

    You drew yourself up until he was almost out of you, keeping his head trapped in your leaking hole. Without warning you slammed your hips down. The sound that left Ezra’s mouth was feral, animalistic. You began a steady pace of lifting and dropping, eventually falling forward onto Ezra’s chest. You started babbling in between your desperate whimpers and sobs. He hit that one spot inside you in this position, you quickly discovered. It made you roll your eyes back in ecstasy, mouth hanging open between bursts of speech.

    “Hngh….oh...my...fucking Gods, so good, you feel so good how is this soo goooood…”

    Ezra met your gaze with his eyes wild, teeth gritted. He threw his head back, his hands gripping your hips as he urged you to move faster, harder, while he spoke out into the air in a broken, shaking prayer.

    “So good for me, please come for me. Come on my cock, sweet Dove, mark me, soak me before I paint this fucking perfect cunt…”

    You were covered in a sheen of sweat, movements faltering from the sustained effort of using him the way you needed. Sensing this, Ezra wrapped his arms around you and crushed your chest to his. Shifting under you, he began to piston himself into your slick, hot sex as your cries became sharp and loud. You lost the power of speech as your breath left your body in explosive gushes against the side of his straining neck. You came with a strangled scream, Ezra struggling to keep you atop him as your limbs shook and bucked of their own accord. You dimly felt the gush of your come running out of you to soak his swollen cock

    “That’s iiitt, let it happen, so good for me, taking your pleasure with me so…..deep….insideyouSHIT….” He stilled as his own orgasm crashed around the both of you, head back and groaning loud enough that his voice rattled your soul, your racing heart beating a staccato beat within your chest. You worked through your highs, your bucking hips and shaking legs slowing down incrementally. Your breath eventually slowed, and you stayed nestled against his neck as he, too, came back to himself.

    You stayed like that, with him softening inside of you, as he reached down to cover you both with a blanket. You felt limbless, untethered, so mortally sated that you did not care if the world around you was burning to the ground. You barely felt the ghost of Ezra’s lips on your forehead as you drifted out of consciousness. One word, repeated through the haze of dwindling thought was your anchor to everything around you that you had killed and bled and cried for, unbelievably real and soft and unflinchingly kind.  

    Home.

#chews-erotically writes #ezra x reader #ezra prospect #ezra fic

[windsweptlassie]

On Love

So as you know I made this uquiz with an open-ended question at the end, tell me something about love, and I’ve gotten the most wonderful responses! They range from descriptions of wonderful partners: 

Lauren: oh, how long I went without being myself until I met him and he showed me who I truly was and that my worth was higher than I ever thought was possible

Levi: I love who we are with each other. I love who I am with you. In your company I am me. In your company I am the best of me. The best with the best, I've told you. I wouldn't give you up for anything

Daniel: i fell in love for the first time when i was 17... at the time, i didn’t realize it was the first time, i thought i’d been in love before, a couple times actually, but falling in love at 17 was such a fulfilling experience, it felt so forceful yet so right. it’s when i first truly understood what love was. never before had i felt so understood and so cared for as i did when i was in love with her, and she was in love with me. it’s been nearly 4 years since then, and nearly 3 years since we broke up and stopped talking, and still, i think about her almost every day. i’ve never known anyone like her; to me, she was love itself.

El: oh i’m in love with everyone that i know op!!! especially my girlfriend, of course ,but also my friends and my family and random people on the street and uh

Grace: i’ve met my soulmate and we plan on getting an apartment and marrying after college

A: I’m going to ask the woman I love to marry me and I just wanted to tell someone because I am so excited

Jeremy: you ever have that feeling where basically after years of denying that someone couldnt understand you in a way or love you and then the next thing you know you happen to find that person and its just great from then on out? idk how to explain it anyways I love my boyfriend so much he means the world to me

Lucy: i am so happy i have found the one i love

to descriptions of best friends and favorite people:

Nightbyrd: Love is a hug from an alzheimer's patient who hasn't the foggiest idea who you are, but they know you're worth hugging.

H: I have been doing so much yoga with my roommate recently!! It's a great way to center my mind for an hour

Riv: [platonic] i’ve literally never met anyone who understands me in the way that my best friends do. they’re literally the best people in the whole world and i genuinely don’t know what i’d do without them. i love them with my whole heart

Cillian: when i talk about how much i love my best friend i get so teary eyed because i cant believe that such a genuinely wonderful person wants to speak to me every day - i care for her more than anyone else on this planet

O: my two besties are my sources of happiness and they’re so pretty i would die for them :D

to beautiful quotes:

Kai: "you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on." DARCYYYY PLS MY HEART CANT HANDLW THIS PAIN

Dorian: When the plane went down in San Francisco, I thought of my friend M. He’s obsessed with plane crashes. He memorizes the wrecked metal details, ____the clear cool skies cut by black scars of smoke. Once, while driving, he told me about all the crashes: The one in blue Kentucky, in yellow Iowa. How people go on, and how people don’t. It was almost a year before I learned that his brother was a pilot. I can’t help it, I love the way men love. (accident report in the tall, tall weeds- ada limon, bright dead things)

Adam: every day I think about lemony snicket I will love you if I never see you again I will love you if I see you every Tuesday or however it goes. and it KILLS ME. love only fits in small things

Hero: “Your heart beats in my ribs and mine in yours, and both in God’s… The divine magnet is in you, and my magnet responds.” - Herman Melville to Nathaniel Hawthorne

Mary: "Love is watching someone die."

Alex: "meet me at blue diner, i'll take coffee and talk about nothing baby"

Sparrow: "How dare you love me like you've never known fear?" and "For you, the world," and "Darling, I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades," and "Will you start where I end?"

V: " You want to die for love. You always have. " and "someone will remember us, I say, even in another time" are living rent free in my mind 24/7 and I'm shaking. When will I finally be not the only one falling ?

Sahar K: To love another person is to see the face of god!!!

Miriam: all the love in the world is useless when there is total lack of understanding- kafka

Juls: Don’t you think they are maybe the same? Love and attention

to practices of love:

Leo; i love feeling happy bc somebody that i love is happy and comfortable....like its not about me i just love seeing you smile. we are safe together...idk i just feel it bro

A: I like to think love is leaning on each other during the light or dark days. Its a personal mission of mine to find out who I am and what I want. Yet I never seem to find my place in this world and as I look and look , I realise the only place I can be myself even with or without the efforts to find myself was done on that day or not, I am always tired so shall I lean on you? And you can lean on me as well. I shall be your fig tree and you shall be my favourite willow tree.

L: It's too late at night to be soul searching, but it's a journey we all seem to find ourselves on these days.

Anthi: feeling safe and at home, I guess (also I love frogs)

Julia: ive found that loving someone is like becoming your own thesaurus. you have to find or come up with infinite ways to say, you’re beautiful, or, i love you. it’s a gift

Galexies: ive been writing letters to the person i'd love one day since i was 14. i write them in a little journal usually, but i've been digitizing them into emails and sending them to one account that i'll give to them someday. i'd like to put pictures, but i haven't been outside much recently so theres that. i wonder if they'd like the sunsets i have on file, or if they'd find my cat cute in a bowtie.

Caeles: Love is sharing fruit slices and making someone tea at random

Dundy: Love is sending your friends cursed shit and watching them react in horror

to crushes and potential loves: 

Jess: I have a crush on my roommate. It sucks, but it's also wonderful. I get to be around him all the time when we're at school. we share a life together; it's rather domestic. I think a lot about marrying him and being domestic with him forever. It won't happen, and I'll move on eventually, but I'll be happy with him for as long as I can. I hope you feel loved tonight, because you are. Sleep well.

Aki: I so desperately want to believe that love is fake because I’ve seen what happens when loved ones leave but whenever I start to convince myself that I’ll never love anyone my best friend messages me telling me she loves me. She’s the only person I’ve ever pictured having a future with but love scares me and I don’t really know what to do but I think as long as she’s with me in some way, I’ll be fine

Hi: her her i keep thinking abt her.... gonna see her in 8 days or so i really miss her. its ok if shes never gonna love me like i want her to really being her friend spending time with her makes me the happiest girl on earth.... outsold antidepressants

Kit: this guy i have a crush on has hypnotically dark brown eyes and he's wonderful and shows me kindness like no one else

Juno: my crush has all the stars in his eyes

Mads: When I have the courage to meet my eyes with hers, the world stands still

Be Nice To Me: Look bro I never do these but I am yearning to hold them SO badly right now and someone needs to know it besides me

to the trials of love: 

Pppppp: I just wanna love like from the movies and what I read about.. but everyone tells me that that’s fictional and rare to find in the real world and it sucks bc it seems like all the guys I’ve met are terrible and the norms of society are all about not respecting women and uthdjdjdk

Manny: I have been in love before and I will be again but I’m not now and I miss it

Ok: I don't think I've ever been in love, though I love many people. I am waiting for the day I look at someone and can say, YES. IT'S YOU.

Chloe: idk rn i'm like okay with my love and i'm happy so we'll see i'm just a little cautious rn bc my last partner told me i didn't know how to love

L: love is so fucking complicated I don't even know where to start

Corrin: He’s not real and it worried me that I will never allow myself to live or be loved because I will always be waiting for him

Sean: Good luck it dont exist

Serena: i want 2 b in love :(( </3

13: I don’t know anymore

M: I just really don’t like dealing with it lol

to beloved characters: 

Janaya: I��m madly in love with my comfort and kin character and I hope maybe in the afterlife I can relive a life with him in some sort of dimension

Jhgjdf: when i was a kid i had a crush on ash ketchum from pokemon and id always daydream about being a female pkmn trainer and meeting him and we fall in love

to advice and prose: 

Mikolai: Love is earth, gentle and soft at first flight but upon being broken, drowns you in the dry choking wastes of its consequences...

Thex: Your hands will not go cold without someone to hold them. I am here. I will be here.

Kat: it is the nearest proof to god that i find myself surrounded by people who love in a way that complements so wonderfully the way i love

H: believe in love out of spite believe in love to prove everyone wrong believe in love because you were told not to and we will not do what we’re told anymore believe in love because it’s the strongest act of teenage rebellion we have left believe in love because it’s easier not to and when is easy worth doing? believe in love because everything says otherwise but you are untouchable, you are your own, you are not made by their design believe in love because, perhaps, you are love

Ali: I used to want a kind of love that feels like coming home and now I want nothing more than to be away from home on many different adventures

Em: you dont need to love yourself to accept it from others

to the small, the simple, and the sweet:

Ireal: Poems

O: Flowers

Fay: ah im sorry that i’m feeling unmotivated but you are very kind.

Ad: we love LOVE

A: <3

Isak: small things

H: intense

Hey: Listening to a clock ticking away

S: her

E: <3

Hania: Amorous, I adore that word ^^

Catboy: wholesome

J: i love love so much it hurts

Emmy: hi i love the song darkest of discos!! try and give it a listen!! <3

Nora: Love is painful, but most of the time love is great

Ariel: i like the comfort it can bring

M: i love love

to food!

Cool Whip: Matzoh ball soup!!

Woop: I love sausages.... I hope that's ok with you?

and animals too <3

Nee: hmm i have pet geckos and i love them very much!

96: raccoons ????

DJ Big Penis: cats

:3: I Love frogs,,, love is stored in the frog,,,

I hope that this serves as a sweet compilation of what love means! Love to all of you, it warms my heart so much to hear about your people and your geckos and your characters and soup and all the songs and quotes you love. <3 Strength to all of you who are figuring out to do about your feelings for your crush, and congratulations to you who are proposing or moving in with your person! Your words are a source of light to me, truly.

#on love #love files #uquiz #mine #shut up queenie #long post

[spookysweet-heart]

Overdrive

Request: No

Pairings: Bones x Reader

Fandom: Battle Egos

Warnings: Parent neglect, slight angst

A/n: This is set before Bones’ accident, so he’s very protective, concerned, and caring. It’s also very self-indulgent, I just wanted to write out how I’ve been feeling the past week or couple years actually...and when I heard the song Overdrive by Conan Gray I just knew I had to write this with Bones since the song reminds me of him. The collage was made by me! Edited by @semiproeagle23​!

“You have no idea what it’s like out there! You won’t be able to survive on your own! You need me!” Your mom was shouting at you from across the living room. Her face was bright red from screaming at you for a while.

You weren’t having it this time though. Standing your ground and looking over at her, you shouted back. “No! YOU need ME! I pay for most of the rent, I take care of YOUR other kids when you work. I left college to help YOU survive. I’ve only stuck with you because of my siblings! They were kids when everything happened. I’m an adult now, you don't get to tell me how my future is going to turn out!”

Puffing up your chest, you turned to walk away towards your room.

“Where do you think you’re going?! Get back here! (Y/n)!!”

Ignoring her screams, you slammed and locked your bedroom door behind you. Breathing heavily and making your way to your bed, you picked up your phone from your nightstand. 

Tears began to fall down your cheeks while you were unlocking your phone. Wiping away the tears with your sleeve, you opened the first conversation in your texts. Looking at the picture of Bones, you hesitated for a moment, not wanting to bother him.

The pounding on your door caused you to flinch, and without a second thought, you texted him quickly. “911, please get me out of here!”

Tossing your phone on the bed, you headed to your closet, grabbing your jacket. Slipping it on, you heard a notification from your phone.

Checking the message, you saw it was from Bones. “Be there in 5, get your things.”

Sighing, you slightly smiled, reading the text. Looking around your room, you grabbed your bag with your charger, wallet, and anything else you needed.

It was a while later when you heard tapping at your window. Opening your curtain, you saw Bones on the other side, smiling at you. Glancing back at your bedroom door, you felt the fear start to bubble inside your stomach. 

Hearing Bones tap at your window again reeled you back into reality, and you quickly opened your window. Bones helped you crawl out your window, carefully helping you back on your feet. 

Picking up your bag and swinging it over his shoulder, Bones wrapped his arm around you after you closed your window. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Running with him to his car, he tossed your bag in the back seat while you got into the passenger seat in the front. Bones hurriedly got into the drivers’ side and after putting on your seat belts, he drove off.

It took you a second to realize Bones took his convertible. Feeling the wind against your face, you smiled when you started to feel less tense and fearful.

Bones turned into an empty parking lot and handed you a water bottle when he parked the car. “Alright, lay it on me.”

Taking the water bottle, you opened it to drink some before you answered him. “The usual, though all I did was tell her how I was talking with a friend because they’re getting an apartment and I told them I’d be happy to move in with them.” Putting the water bottle in the cupholder, you looked over at him. “She yelled at me, telling me I wouldn’t be anything without her. That I’m the one that needs her to survive in this world. She used the kids against me, saying they would be devastated if I just left them like that.”  

Feeling yourself starting to cry again, you let Bones pull you into his side. He gently pets and kissed the top of your head. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. Trust me. Fuck her, alright? She doesn’t understand that you’re ready to move on with your life. You deserve to leave that hell hole and go somewhere that’ll actually make you happy.”

“You know it’s not that easy…”

“It’s not, but...why don't you move in with me? Or the friend you were talking to. I’ll help you. I’ll take care of dealing with your mom. You don’t have to do this alone, (Y/n).” 

You shook your head and looked up at Bones. “I couldn’t ask you to do that for me. It’s my battle to fight, Bones.”

“Well, you don’t have to fight it alone. I told you. I’m here for you. You’ve got me to fall back on. You’ve fought enough, let me take charge.” Bones caressed your cheek and softly smiled down at you. “Please?”

You sighed and held his hand in yours. “Okay...I’ll follow your lead. I’m just really tired.”

“I know...and I’m sorry it’s taken this long, but I’ll make sure you’re going to be okay.” He pulled you into a tight hug and gently rubbed your back. “You know what will cheer you up for a while?”

“What?“ 

“Driving down the highway.” Bones grinned when he saw your eyes light up. He knew you loved it when he drove down a particular highway that was completely empty around this time of night.

Starting the car, Bones drove off, heading in the direction of the highway. Feeling the wind back on your face, you grinned while turning up the radio.

Only met on the weekend, said I'm not catchin' feelings. Oh, I guess I lied. Divin' off of the deep end. I can't think of a reason. We should take our time. All or nothin'. Let's just trust the night.

Bones smiled when he looked over at you, He slowed down the speed he was driving at while you were unbuckling your seatbelt and carefully standing up, closing your eyes and holding onto the windshield. Feeling the airflow through your hair, you opened your eyes, seeing the street lamps pass by and all you heard was the music becoming louder from the radio. For once, you were feeling free, like you could take on the world.

Burnin' down the street, no left, right, left, right. I don't wanna see no red light, red light. Fast lane on the beat, go ten, five, ten, five. You right next to me, feel the heat. Goin' overdrive.

You smiled down at Bones as he smiled up at you, both of you knowing this was the beginning of something incredible.

Tag List:

@huffle-princess​

@lady-bee-fechin​

@wildspeciallavender​

@smolwash​

@kateneedscoffee​

@captainrose35​

@missrose-writes-stuff​

@nekosounds​

@stretchy-longstocking​

@stuff-from-the-void-matron​

#Bones #battle egos #battle ego #battle boys #battle boy #natewantstobattle egos #x reader #Bones nwtb #nwtb

[maggielindemanns]

tag nine people to learn about their interests!

TAGGING: @ijzerengels @calumthoodshands @redrattlers @thenervousduck @arzkiya-hai @kritiquer @lesbianearn @sondergf @embeddedinmybrain @vexedtonightmares @tsjernobyl @bandsanitizer @tarcyjonsson and anyone else that wants to! idk who did this or not, sorry if you already did it but you may of course ignore me.

aaaa also thank you @ottelu for the tag! love u bestie <3

MUSIC

fave genre: r&b and pop, for sure

fave artist: ariana grande, halsey, savannah ré, normani, alina baraz, kiana ledé, chloe moriondo, troye sivan, the neighbourhood, bastille, 5SOS (& luke hemmings solo !!!!!! my baby) — basically i love music, we been knew, i have so many faves i can’t pick one

fave song: rn it’s for sure ur best friend by kiana ledé ft kehlani or girl on tv by chloe moriondo

most listened to song lately: according to last.fm, it’s wild side by normani agskdhsk i do wish she released it without cardi tho i’ll die on this hill idc its fine i just skip her part

song currently stuck in your head: you right by doja cat actually and ur best friend i couldn’t stop singing those two at work

five fave lyrics (in no particular order, there’s too many i love omg)

“i know i’ll never meet your expectations / but the picture that you paint of me looks better in your mind” — high, 5SOS

“you don’t believe in one divine / but can you tell me you believe in mine? / ‘cause you’ve been my god, my god / and when you’re gone i’m godless, i’m godless” — godless, banks

“you’re the only one, you’re the only one / i’m so wrapped up in a daze / hoping this is just a phase / but when all is said and done / i know you are still the one” — the only one, the black keys

“i get lost inside all the stars in your eyes, it’s a galaxy / you control the tide like the moon in the sky, you’re the gravity” — more than enough, alina baraz

“standing there, you look at me / understanding everything / yeah, it’s so fascinating / you patch up the blood and the cuts / but our blood got mixed up / so i guess we belong to each other” — love song, yungblud

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume | slow or fast songs | music video or lyric video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

fave book genre: idk i prefer like YA novels and romance i guess but idc really, i just don’t like fantasy stuff like harry potter or . historical fiction?? i guess you could call it?? (tried to read pride and prejudice for leisure ……….. boring as fuck like holy shit) or science fiction like boring boring boring idc no offense to anyone that loves it of course

fave writer: don’t have one really

fave book: aaaaaa i don’t have one of these either !! the one that always comes to mind though is giovanni’s room, but i just love that book, it was brilliant

fave series: mmmm i don’t really like series but caro’s got me into reading trc so i guess that’ll be my fave series once i’m done!

comfort book: rwrb <3

fave book to read on a rainy day: giovanni’s room sgsjdhsj i literally reread it bc it has some of my fave lines ever

fave characters: adam parrish, blue sargent, ronan lynch, gansey but he on thin ice, ari and dante, aiden navarro, alex claremont-diaz, charlie and nick (actually . everyone in heartstopper except the characters that are a plague <3), and more that i cannot think of most likely

five fave book quotes: (again no particular order i love so many)

“My dear fellow, you forget that we are in the native land of the hypocrite.” || “The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history.” — the picture of dorian gray, oscar wilde

“topography on the map of you, a world i’m still charting.” — red, white, and royal blue, casey mcquiston

“It is cruel to have made me want to live only to make my death more bloody.” || “I loved him. I do not think that I will ever love anyone like that again.” || “And here my baby came indeed, through all that sunlight, his face flushed and his hair flying, his eyes, unbelievably, like morning stars.” || “And there’s something awful about being at the mercy of a stranger.” — giovanni’s room, james baldwin (ik i cheated so bad w this SHUSH)

“And then I think we all realized what fools we’d been. We might get out sometime, but she was locked up forever in that body.” — girl, interrupted, susanna kaysen

“You and I, we don’t walk the lines. We just follow the echoes.” || “My mother used to say, ‘Don’t throw compliments away, so long as they’re free.’” His face was very earnest. “That one wasn’t meant to cost you anything, Blue.” — the raven boys, maggie stiefvater

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | read at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by summaries | rereading or reading just once

TV & MOVIES

fave tv/movie genres: coming of age, romance (ehhh to some degree), i like indie movies, idk same as books i dont like science fiction, historical stuff, or fantasy im boring okay

fave movie: dont have one tbh

comfort movie: speech and debate or easy a

movie you watch every year: dont have one

fave tv show: dear white people or skam + remakes, i like other ones tho like stranger things

comfort show: skamverse <3 not exactly an answer but mhm

most rewatched tv show: skamverse or dear white people OR THE FOSTERS …. dude …….. i used to watch that all day every day then they took it off netflix …. now it’s dance moms i play for background noise and watch on occasion

five favorite characters: lionel higgins, joelle brooks, olive penderghast, lucas lallemant, eleonora sava, fallon carrington, howie (speech and debate), connor walsh, annalise keating, wes gibbins, archie coleman, ellie chu, beth harmon, lara jean covey (yes here i am overlisting again i’m so sorry)

tv shows or movies | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging (well …. i don’t binge actually i have a horrible attention span) | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

#tag game #this was long but i enjoyed i havent done one of these in a while so yeehaw #its also been in my drafts for days rip sorry i know i got tagged eons ago