#later goes back and buries blunt

[mantaphase]

when i was in middle school i didn't know anything abt weed and whenever i saw a *hits blunt* meme i assumed it meant like. a brick wall. metaphorically. like ur train of thought runs into a blunt, which a lame logic problem and/or someone's socialist awakening has left on the tracks, and just stops like oops. we hit a blunt. can someone go move that blunt off the tracks real quick. and then once you think through the problem and come to a conclusion you can keep chuggin along. but i never heard the expression used anywhere else bc pinterest was my only social media, n i thought that was weird but then the meme died and i didn't think abt it for a while

and then when i was 15 i found out that you actually dont smoke weed with some kinda dandy gentleman's pipe like sherlock holmes and suddenly everything made sense

#and THEN i found out that pipes ARE still a thing and at that point i think i just gave up. #phaseposting #hits blunt #oh my fucking god todd did you run over ANOTHER blunt. what if it had babies??? that blunt was a mother and you killed her #later goes back and buries blunt #says a few words #puts dandelion bouquet on blunt's grave #also for context. i was homeschooled. by fundamentalists not hippies. to this day i don't know what crack actually *is* #meth??? crack cocaine??? is it just another word for coke??? idk but my mommy's friend from church says they put it in the chik-fil-a sauce

[fic-over-cannon]

Strawberry Pie

jason todd x gn!reader

summary: you spend a lazy morning finishing baking the pie that Jason started

tags: kissing, fluff, domestic jason todd

rated teen | wc: 1.1k

a/n: a loosely inspired song fic. can be read as a future scene from A Soft Touch or as a standalone. just wanted something light and fluffy and was possessed with the urge for pie so here it is.

It’s warm this morning, but there’s a cool cross-breeze coming in through the open window. It’s not late enough in the spring to start turning on the AC yet, the breeze currently lifting the sheer curtains enough to keep the apartment fresh. You reach over to the empty side of the bed, let your hand bunch up into a fist before pushing yourself upright and out of bed. Jason had told you, between parting kisses, that he’d be late coming home, the planned stakeout likely to go on until noon. You’d expected this, unworried by his absence but still secretly hoping he’d have returned safe to you.

You make yourself a cup of tea and drink it leaning against the countertop, the Formica countertop digging into the small of your back, the thin cotton of your tank top barely blunting the edge. Feeling hungry, you go looking for breakfast ingredients in the fridge. There’s a note from Jason, stuck to the top of the strawberries you’d bought at the farmer’s market yesterday. For pie, do not eat! signed off with a little heart and smiley face. A few shelves down is the pie dough, covered in plastic wrap and exactly where Jason had left it, in a hurry to follow up on the lead his lieutenant had called in.

It’s a lazy Saturday morning, time stretching out in front of you. You pull out the dough and berries, set them onto the counter. Go rummaging through Jason’s box of recipe cards, one of his last keepsakes from his mother and added to by Alfred, until you can find the one for strawberry pie. The recipe is easy enough, Jason having done all the hard work of making the dough.

You start by turning on the radio, an old analogue thing that Jason had been determined to fix by himself, and setting the oven to preheat. The strawberries go into a colander, washed and ready for slicing. You pop one into your mouth and it just about bursts on your tongue, bright and sweet like sunshine. They’re smaller than the kind you can buy at the grocery store, seeds more prominent and scent stronger. It’s a shame that these wild strawberries are only available a few months of the year but it makes them that much sweeter. Humming, you slice through the quart of berries, juice staining your fingertips. Put them in a bowl with cornstarch and sugar, a dash of lemon juice to finish.

Turning to the dough, you start rolling half out onto the floured countertop. It fits into the pie dish Jason had brought back from one of his missions almost perfectly, only a few hanging edges in need of trimming. Feeling adventurous, you decide to braid some of the lattice work for the top. It comes out a little lopsided, but it’s a good first attempt. Fingers pinching, the fluted edge of the pie takes shape. A light hand with the egg wash and a sprinkle of Demerara sugar later and it’s done. You step back to admire your work. It makes a pretty picture, the pie on the marbled countertop, white tulips in a vase from your one foray into pottery, mid-morning sun bright and white through the kitchen windows.

The pie goes into the oven, and you start cleaning up the evidence of your morning’s activities. The dishes go into the washer, the countertop wiped clean, leftover berries into your stomach. So engrossed in your tasks, you don’t hear the door open or the duffel bag hit the floor of the entryway. Arms circle around you, pick you up and spin you in a circle. Jason sets you down, buries his face in your neck.

“Something smells good,” he murmurs into your hair. And it does, the air filled with the scent of golden pastry and roasting strawberries.

“It should. I’ve been working away on that pie all morning.”

“Thought that was my job.” He tries to pout, but you swat at his hip with the dish towel. The timer on the oven goes off, interrupting the moment.

“Well that,” and you gesture at the oven, “can be your job now.”

He accepts his new job with minimal pouting, scooping up the bee-patterned oven mitts and taking out the pie. It’s perfect, golden with rich red juice bubbling through the lattice work. Steam rises off the top in a way that’s got both of your mouths watering. Jason reaches out to pinch off a piece of crust with his bare hand, but you swat his hands away before he can burn his fingers.

“Not yet! It’s got to cool first Jay.” Looking him over, you finally catch on that he’s still got his jacket on and fully zipped up, despite the warm day. He only ever does that when his shirt’s got bloodstains on it. “Go on, take a shower. By the time you’re done the pie’ll be ready and you can have some for breakfast.”

Jokingly holding his hands up in surrender, he starts heading for the bathroom. “Okay, okay, I’m going!”

“Oh and don’t forget to throw anything bloody into the washer, not the laundry basket! I want to run the next load before the stain really sets in this time,” you call over your shoulder. Last time Jason had left it too long, had ended up having to throw away a previous favourite shirt when neither of your combined efforts had gotten the dried blood spatter out.

He makes a noise of assent and you get busy unloading the dishwasher as you can hear the spray of the shower turn on, leaving out two small plates beside the pie. Some forks, a large knife, and an ice cream scoop join them on the counter. You’re just getting the ice cream out of the freezer, the expensive kind with real vanilla beans that Jason splurges on, when he walks back into the kitchen. He hasn’t dried his hair properly, a habit you haven’t gotten him to break in all the time you’ve known each other and grown to just accept.

You hand the knife over to him with a careful kiss, let him carve up slices for the both of you, hands sure and steady. You’re struggling with the ice cream, frozen solid and unwilling to be scooped. Jason notices, gently nudges you out of the way with his hip and takes over, depositing two perfect spheres of ice cream on top of each slice of pie.

Picking up a fork, you feed him the first bite, hand cupped below it to catch any droplets of ice cream. He closes his eyes, goes silent for a moment. You start to get worried that somehow you’ve messed it up, maybe mixed up the salt with the sugar but you were sure it had tasted just fine when you’d licked the filling syrup off of your wrist.

“So? What do you think?”

He smiles before opening his eyes. “I think it tastes like home.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #red hood x you #red hood x reader #jason todd #Spotify #header images from pinterest #header by benkeibear

[meaningofaeons]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ drunken confession

⊹ character(s) - kaveh ⊹ word count - 1.1k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (for kaveh lol), kaveh gets drunk and basically whines to reader, reader is a lil blunt/stoic at times and is implied to be some kind of artist/have some understanding of artistry and such (and is also implied to be fairly affluent), fic is implied to take place sometime after the hangout (like after the traveler visits him in the tavern but they don't go anywhere ofc)

this idea sprouted up while I was playing kaveh's hangout quest so I had to rush something out for the loml.... kaveh ilysm (^≗ω≗^) SORRY THE ENDING IS KINDA CLICHE TOO I am cringe but free

"These clients think they can just... boss me around! All because they have plenty of Mora to throw about! I'm the architectural expert here, they don't know the half of it!"

The man across from you shouted freely, waving around his latest glass of wine as he vented his woes. Normally, this would warrant a hushing and an apology to the nearby patrons... but if you were honest, this was his regular drinking spot, and all the usual tavern-goers already knew of Kaveh's habits.

You, meanwhile, nursed your own glass of the same, glancing over at your companion.

"I know, Kaveh. You've told me that about the last..." You counted on your fingers. "Three clients you've had."

"Just goes to show nobody understands art like we do in this city!" Kaveh slurred, downing the rest of his drink as he slumped onto the table, burying his head in his arms. You eyed him concernedly.

Isn't that his sixth one?

"I think you've had a bit too much to drink," you pointed out, sighing as he waved over the tavern owner, deaf to your words. "Again."

"Nonsense." Oh, so he did hear you. "You know that the only thing that can make me feel better after a belligerent client is drinking until I have to be carried home..."

"Yet you have the gall to lecture the Traveler on the health issues caused by drinking."

"I just warned them a bit!"

"Hm."

Kaveh peeked up at you through his fingers, red eyes boring into your own. The beginnings of a pout formed on his lips, and you had to look away before he tried his puppy-dog eyes on you.

"You're so cold, Y/N... not even a bit of consolation?" he whimpered, his befuddled mind trying to appeal to your pathos in a way his composed self would never dare try. He'd be apologizing over and over for his childish behavior come tomorrow, you surmised. "Can't you comfort me?"

"I would only sound redundant. You come to me about the same problem every time we drink, so it's only natural that my advice would become repetitive."

"You sound like Alhaitham." The grumble in his voice was far too obvious.

"At least I have an artist's mindset and don't stew in books all day long."

"Hardly matters when you talk just as calculatingly as an Akademiya scholar..."

You heave a sigh. Banter wasn't going to make Kaveh feel better—if it did, he'd get along with Alhaitham far better. You opted to wave Lambad over, requesting a glass of water and the bill. You were also quick to shut down Kaveh's attempts to request a seventh glass of alcohol, promising a hefty tip if the tavern owner didn't bend to his whim.

The architect once again shot you a pout, but you merely moved to his side, rubbing circles onto his back as soothingly as you could manage. His crimson eyes began to droop at your actions.

Lambad offered you the water, and you offered him a hefty pouch of Mora, which he gladly took as he bid you farewell. You pushed the cup to Kaveh's lips, and he shot you a look.

"I can drink it myself... I'm not a child."

"You were acting like you had to be coddled like one only moments earlier. Shall I leave you to stumble home by yourself?"

"No! No... You're so mean," he sighed, downing the glass. It seemed to help him regain his bearings, even if only slightly. "Remind me to send you the Mora for my half of the bill later..."

"More like your three quarters," you joked, nudging him as you helped him to a stand. "Don't worry about it. I'll cover tonight's bill."

"But—"

"For a man in debt, you sure do seem keen on losing money." When he glared at you, you chuckled. "Sorry. Low blow."

"Hmph."

"Come, now. How about we go take a seat on the Divine Tree, overlook the docks for a bit? I don't suppose you want to get back to a scolding from Alhaitham anytime soon."

"Yeah... sounds good."

That's how you ended up leading Kaveh to a small root (well, small in comparison to the rest of the Divine Tree), sitting beside him and placing an arm around his shoulder to keep him upright.

He pillowed his head on your shoulder without much reservation, another byproduct of his liquid confidence.

"Have you ever thought about taking a break? I don't think I've seen you look this tired in a long while, Kaveh."

"I would, but you know... Bills to pay, groceries to buy... Not a day goes by that I can live without Mora," he sighed.

"What if I treated you to a vacation in Fontaine? I have some work to complete there. You could relax for a week or two, take your mind off of everything."

"I appreciate the offer... but I'd feel like I'm shirking my responsibilities. Besides, I don't want to bump into my mom, and make her think I'm there to barge in on her new life."

You raised a brow, a bit surprised at his thinking. You had met Faranak in the distant past, and she was as much of a doting mother as Kaveh was a momma's boy.

At the same time, though, you knew the way Kaveh felt. It was easy to fall into the habit of assuming yourself a burden to everyone, no matter how far from the truth it was.

"She would never think that," you said at last.

"I know..."

The blonde man shifted uncomfortably on your shoulder, so you moved to pull him onto your lap instead, allowing him to rest snugly. He looked about ready to protest—not even alcohol could muddle his mind that much, so as to not be embarrassed by your forthcoming action—when he was immediately shut up by your fingers carding through his locks.

It felt nice, very nice, in fact. Kaveh could feel himself nearly drifting off, the contact serving as just the comfort he needed for his down mood.

"Well, if you're willing to wait a bit longer for your vacation, let's go to Mondstadt. It sounds better for an alcoholic like yourself anyways."

"Really? I'm not that bad."

At your unimpressed glare, he stared out at the docks, blushing.

"...I'll try to drink a little less. But if you're willing to have me, I guess Mondstadt does sound nice."

You hummed, pleased at his response, staring at the moon hanging low on the horizon. With a more upbeat smile than before, you nudged him gently, beginning to weave small braids into his hair.

"Look at that moon. A lovely night. Doesn't this kind of beauty just get your creative juices flowing?"

Unbeknownst to you, crimson eyes flicked up to your smiling face, a flush that wasn't quite from any alcohol making its way to Kaveh's pale cheeks.

"...Yeah. Very lovely, indeed."

#genshin #genshin impact #kaveh #kaveh genshin #kaveh x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaveh my beloved

[pondsblog]

Stoner!Simon

cw: weed use, nsfw no use if y/n

Simon Riley as a stoner...burr. It probably started as a medical weed but turned in more. He smokes at least once a day when he is at home on leave. 

He will pay for you to get your nails done—whatever you want—just for you to roll his joints for him. He will do it himself, but you do it so much better, he’ll whine; he will even grind the weed! In return for the gorgeous way you skillfully roll the blunt. He will light it with a Zippo with your initials carved into it; the same lighter goes into his breast pocket when he is on the field.

His honey-brown eyes stay fixed on you as you stick out your tongue sealing up the blunt, He adjusts his pants when his dick starts slightly cubbing up at the sight of you licking the paper. He can’t help it; he’s like Pavlov’s dog. The same thing happens when he’s convinced you into rolling him another joint; he’s had one by now, and his brain feels foggy and his eyes are red and droopy. He can’t help letting his mind conjure up other ways he could use those hands and mouths of yours. This time he doesn’t bother adjusting the tent that is forming in his pants; instead, he watches you finish and asks you bluntly.

 “Wann’ suck my cock, Lovie?"

Later on, after he’s pulled his pants down and lit the joint you’ve made with praise tumbling out of his mouth. “You’re so good for me aren’t ya Lovie?” You can try to reply but the stiff cock in your mouth makes it all muffled. He pulls you off his dick, and he lifts himself off the back of the couch, blowing smoke into your face as you gasp for air. His hands come to hold your face and you notice he's gotten rid of the joint. He shakes your head, drawing you back to him suddenly. “Good girl, yeah,” he’ll nod at you before pushing you back down onto his cock, making you gag. His hips come up down your throat, and your nose gets buried in his musky pubic hair. 

Ahhh i hope this is okay, and yes kinda a rewrite.

#call of duty mw2 #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley mw2 #simon riley x you #cod x reader #cod headcanons #cod mw2

[rosepascal]

pedro boys when you’re not feeling well

ft: Joel Miller, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels, Marcus Pike, Marcus Moreno, Max Phillips, Dieter Bravo

a/n: writing this in bed as i suffer from a stomach ache (maybe caused by exhausting travel day or it could be my acid reflux making my life hell idk) either way i need comfort from the boys. also first time writing a headcanon for dieter, might add max lord soon bc hes fine af

Joel Miller

Pre outbreak Joel would know exactly what to do to help. He’s dealt with his fair share of stomaches aches, fevers, colds etc. Sarah got sick a lot as a child so he knows the remedies and what makes someone feel better. He’ll cook u soup or make u toast and coax you into eating with kisses. He’ll make you drink water and let you sleep in his bed. Also gives you lots of cuddles

Post outbreak Joel still has those instincts buried in him when he sees you aren’t feeling well. He’s not as kissy as he used to be but he will do anything to help you feel better. If you even mention wanting soup or needing medicine he's out the door to get it for you. He’s a grump though so he’ll be a bit more blunt like telling u to sit and stop whining when you complain about him doing so much for you. But it comes from a place of love even if he won’t admit it. Still gives the best cuddles. You just have to ask.

Din Djarin

Mando is such a sweetheart. He’s been sick and injured himself but normally he’s on his own. Suffering by himself on his ship. But after meeting you he doesn’t feel that way anymore. Every injury is now treated by you. He never ever wants you to feel the way he used to feel so he’ll be right by your side. Returning the care and compassion you give him. He has bacta if you need it but sometimes you just have to ride out the sick feeling. He gets you whatever you want. Tasking Grogu to stay with you as he goes into town. He’ll take real good care of you until you’re back to normal.

Frankie Morales

Frankie, sweet Frankie. Oh he’s just a total sweetheart. He’s a bit of a worry wart though. Oh you should have seen him the first time his baby girl got sick. She cried in his arms and his heart broke because he couldn’t do anything to help her. He goes a little overboard sometimes. He’s at your side in an instant. Immediately jumping to the worst conclusion even if its just a stomach ache. He doesn’t like to see you sick because it worries him to no end. Even if you promise you’re okay. He probably has some cure he promises you will help that he learned in the military. But he can also make you mac and cheese and sit with you on the couch.

Jack Daniels

Whiskey is basically your maid when you are sick. He calls you a million sweet pet names as he lets you sit in his bed all comfy and brings you anything you ask for. He’ll also go to ginger for medicine, knowing whatever she can give you will have you right as rain in a day. He is a bit of a tease though. Saying stuff like “Poor baby.” and “Don’t feel good huh?” His tone is light and joking and you tend to play along. Pouting and nodding your head. Telling him that only his cuddles and that soup from the deli downtown is all you need. He’ll laugh but get it for you in a heartbeat.

Marcus Pike

Oh my god this man is the perfect partner when you are sick. At first you're pretty upset because you have to cancel your date with him. Date nights are already hard to plan given both of your jobs. He can tell something is wrong the moment he hears you over the phone. Even though you tell him that you're fine and promise to make it up to him he still shows up to your place 30 minutes later with food. He'll turn on an old movie and wrap you in a blanket and let you fall asleep in his arms.

Marcus Moreno

I feel like Marcus is also a pretty anxious guy but like Joel and Frankie he's got the dad knowledge on how to make someone feel better. Plus his mothers surefire cures. He comes after work because as much as he wishes, he can't miss work. But he's constantly messaging you to make sure you're okay. He offers to let you stay at his place but you don't want to get him or Missy sick. Though its a losing battle because both him and Missy don't care and want you around. Missy will keep you company while Marcus makes you tea and soup. The night ends with family cuddles and a lot of love.

Max Phillips

Vampires can't get sick like humans so there's no worry about getting him sick. Max wants you to feel better as soon as possible, mostly because you don't taste as good when you're sick and its not as fun for you. But also because he cares about your wellbeing of course. He's bit of a pain though because he's at work and you're texting him to pick you up some medicine and he's being a tease about it. Telling you how out of the way it is and how expensive it is but obviously he's going to get it for you. He just likes it when you beg :) He'll get you everything you ask for and more. As for cuddles he is happy to be your ice pack. He also offers to turn you so you don't have to feel like this ever again. Mostly joking, but a part of him isn't.

Dieter Bravo

Dieter will buy you all the expensive medicine and the fluffiest blankets and food from the highest end restaurant if it will make you feel better. Well it's his money but he has assistants to actually go and get it for him. Dieter is no stranger to feeling like shit so he knows what helps. Lots of snuggling in his bed, he won't let you leave unless its for the bathroom. Honestly, he's probably hungover in some capacity the same morning so its a lot of sleeping and being sick together.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #max phillips #max phillips x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader

[cinnamonest]

knotting/breeding w yan! tighnari..? maybe after darling's tried to escape?

I have a lot of thoughts about Tighnari's emotional states and how they affect his urges actually, I love the thought of a highly monogamous species hybrid, his brain is literally hardwired to protect you at all times and keep you by his side... so of course he gets distressed when you're not there.

In fact, even just normal daily life affects Tighnari pretty badly, in the emotional sense. His constant restraining himself and trying to push back his urges leads to him having a lot of pent-up stress and nerves, which can take a significant toll on his health. Sometimes, after a long day of watching you interact with others, he can have something akin to an anxiety breakdown.

He doesn't like people seeing him like this... but at the same time, it will only be worse if you're not there. You have to understand, he needs you there. It's one of a few times he's willing to interrupt you, because he needs this now and can't take any more of watching you walk all around others. He pulls you into his lodgings, all dark and secluded, sits on the bed, holds you close so tightly it's suffocating. He just shivers and twitches, quietly, not saying a word. He prefers it if you don't mention these brief emotional episodes later on.

But when you're truly gone, it's far worse, he's much more bothered by your escapes than he lets on. He tries to kind of maintain this composed, unbothered demeanor once he finds you and catches up to you, sort of as a defense mechanism to not appear vulnerable, to maintain a sense of dignity and respectableness.

But it does. It really, really does. And eventually, after enough attempts, it can start to eat away at him, and he loses that composure and dignity, instead losing control and outright smothering you. Rubbing the side of his face against your neck and cheek almost aggressively, as if his life depends on embedding his scent on you.

Does it actually have any effect on you or other humans? No, but it makes him feel infinitely better. You... well, he can get so pitiful like that, you feel too guilty to tell him not to, and it's not like he's doing anything bad. At least not at first... the knot can start to hurt, though, when it's shoved in so quickly and roughly, your body can't adjust to it fast enough before it's rubbing your insides with a painful friction.

The other issue is that each time, it takes him several days to recover from the anxious feeling. The anxiety of it all can cause him to lose sleep. It's a constant weight on him. Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night, nudging you and nuzzling against you, just to reaffirm that you're there and you haven't been taken away like he keeps dreaming about. He can't handle the constant feeling that you're in danger, or that you'll be taken away. It's too much for him.

...So you have to understand, then, why both these attempts, and even just your regular daily interactions, result in the behaviors that he exhibits. You have to be okay with staying inside for days on end, constantly kept in bed, used as both a cum depository and a chew toy alike. After all, this is your fault. Not that he would be so blunt and shameless as to say that directly, but you can sense the sentiment, you feel the guilt, and so much to his satisfaction, you (perhaps begrudgingly, but nonetheless) allow it. It's only fair to try and alleviate his suffering a bit, even if it inconveniences you a bit.

His arms stay latched around you, he stays inside you for hours on end. Sometimes he doesn't even get to swell down and pull out, he just gets hard again and goes right back to railing you before he could. He doesn't actually talk very much, during these episodes, you often end up laying in silence in between rounds where you lay latched together, nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing. He always pulls you close, buries his face against your neck and inhales your scent, over and over, he could do it for hours -- and will, if you allow it. It's comforting, it takes all his tension and frustration away.

Unless, of course, your scent is tainted by that of other people. Then it only irritates him further, because you're not supposed to smell that way. The sex is rougher and harder and faster, you can feel more of an angry frustration in the motions, he bites and scratches you more. Sometimes, though, he can't handle laying down with you until you bathe, the smell makes him too anxious. So you have to go take a bath right now and you can't do anything else until you do (although you usually end up getting bred mid-bath anyway).

To deal with this, he works out a sort of agreement that, whenever his anxiety is getting really bad, he can keep you inside for a few days, not have to worry about you. It does wonders for his mental state, knowing you're at home locked away and safe. That when he comes back for the night, you'll be laying in bed all warm and welcoming, and you'll smell just like him and his room and no one else, a very comforting feeling... although it ultimately has the same effect on the situation anyway. Although it's slower and more gentle, so it's preferable.

He does get the idea eventually, though, that perhaps breeding you is the best solution. You won't have the energy to run away, and once you have kits, you'll be too busy with them and attached to them... and then maybe it will make you more content, too. In fact, maybe that's what you really want, deep down... or so he can convince himself. You just don't know what you want, you're actually frustrated by not being knocked up and thus try to intentionally provoke him into doing exact that. That makes sense, in a way. He's certain you'll realize it once you're pregnant... even if you may be a bit upset about it at first.

#.tnr

[dudadragneel]

Hello guys! It's me!

How are you doing?

AFTER HALF A CENTURY...IM BACK WITH ANOTHER SICKFIC!

Now, this one was supposed to be a little drabble but I got a little carried away...

Anyways, enjoy!

Thinking about Hyunjin who has a really bad stomachache and he’s been crying on and off all day and can barely eat anything but once he feels a bit better he goes with reader to the library while she study’s in silence and he just kinda tries to distract himself with reading, but then he starts feeling nauseous and can’t really talk because yk you gotta be QUIET in a library. So he has to text her to tell her he feels like he’s going to vomit but she’s not quite getting the hint that he wants to leave so he has to be really blunt with her 😭. THEN she takes him outside and he just dry heaves, then she gives him water and he just throws up the water. but when they get in the car…oh that’s a WHOLE new situation and mess.

LIBRARY DATE

While you were on your midterms, Hyunjin was in a well-deserved rest period. However,  the poor boy's body was feeling the toll from the last promotion. His immune system wasn't doing that great and he ate something that didn't sit well with his stomach.

He woke up with a really bad stomach ache, it was a sharp pain around his middle, especially sharp in the pit of his stomach. The pain was so strong he actually started crying at some point.

- babe, it hurts!

- oh baby. I know it does. I gave you medicine, it will take some time for it to work. Do you want to eat some light soup? Or maybe a fruit?

- no...it feels horrible...I feel like I've eaten enough for the week.

- but you didn't eat anything. Not since last night.

-I know....but I just can't, it's hurting too much.

- oh Hyune...do you want me to rub your belly?

- yes...

You sat next to him at the edge of the bed where he was lying down and proceeded to rub his belly. He felt comfortable with your touch and closed his eyes to try and rest. In a few minutes, he managed to fall asleep.

You let him rest while you finished doing your chores at the house and prepared something light for him to eat in case he woke up feeling a little better.

A few hours later, he woke up feeling a little better, the pain was barely there and he was actually feeling a bit hungry.

You had prepared some light snacks for him, as you thought that would sit better than soup.

- Hey sleepyhead.

- Hey babe.

He said going towards you like a little kid for a hug.

You hugged him as he buried his face on your shoulders and spoke softly.

- Are you feeling better?

- Yeah...a little....

- Do you want to eat something?

- Yeah...

- Come on.

You said as you grabbed his hand and walked to the table. You served him the snacks you were preparing before in hopes he'd be able to get at least a little bite in.

- You don't have to eat everything. Just pick what you think your stomach will agree with.

- Woah! Thank you, honey.

You just smiled as you sat in front of him while he ate. You kept scrolling through your phone and chatting with him.

- Hyune

- Hm?

- I'm thinking about going to the library to study later. Are you gonna be ok alone?

- Can I accompany you?

- are you sure? Are you feeling better?

- Yeah. I think going out of the house might help me feel less stressed.

- Okay then. Why don't you finish eating and while you digest your food, I'll take a shower and get ready?

- ok!

He did as you told him, he sat on the couch and patiently waited while you showered and gathered your stuff.

The local library wasn't that big but it was beautiful and cozy and definitely helped you feel more concentrated to study.

You found a free table, sat down, and organized your things, you put on your earphones to help you concentrate more. Hyunjin just sat in front of you, completely in love seeing you so focused. He loved seeing how passionate you were about the things you did, even if it was just sitting down and studying.

He couldn't really keep on using his phone so he decided to look for a book about art to read while you studied.

At first, he was entertained, almost like a toddler, he managed to learn about some other painting techniques and he was happy that this outing turned out to be productive for him as well.

But then things started to go south. As he was reading, the stomachache from earlier was starting to turn into full nausea.

And unfortunate to him because, ironically, he picked a book that had tons of Van Gogh's paintings in it, and all that swirling werent helping at all.

He brought a hand to his stomach and gently pressed on it because even though he felt nauseous, the pain from earlier was still lingering around.

He tried to stay focused on the book but the more he tried to read or look at the pictures the more his stomach twisted. He placed the book on the table, closed his eyes took and deep breath in, and exhaled, trying to keep the nausea at bay.

He kept bringing his hand to his stomach and fidgeting on the chair, most to catch your attention, but you were basically in another dimension of full focus, and he didn't really want to use his phone and risk feeling even worse.

But the nausea was growing stronger, so he had no other option. He got his phone and texted you, but the contents of the message weren't shown so you just shrugged it off as him trying to distract you.

He sent a few more texts, but you didn't even bother looking up, part of you wanted to show him that you could stay focused even when he incorporated a toddler to annoy you. But little did you know the distress he was in.

He set down his phone and lay his head on his arms, but the nausea was reaching its peak. He could feel the little he had eaten earlier sloshing around and his mouth started pooling with saliva. He started to swallow convulsively but things just weren't working.

He felt something rushing up his chest and a foul taste in his mouth, he was gonna throw up and there was nothing more he could do to avoid it. And you still hadn't read his texts. He didn't want to talk, first because you were in a library and it was really quiet, and second because he was afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd throw up right then and there, but he had no other choice. He needed to get out of there.

He abruptly put down your book and if you weren't in a library, you would've yelled at him.

You looked straight at him but before you could even get angry, he took his only chance.

- I'm gonna throw up.

He said as quietly as possible but still urgent. Apparently, just admitting that he was gonna be sick, made his stomach contract and he was quick to cover his mouth to surpass a gag.

- Shit.

You said standing up and getting to his side. You just grabbed his arm and wrapped your arm around him as you guided him out, his body already bending over as his stomach contracted again.

Unfortunately for him, some people noticed the sudden commotion.

For some reason, the bathroom wasn't near the room you were in, so you just took him outside in the yard.

He bent over, hands on his knees for support while you kept on holding his arm and rubbing his back.

He spat out the thick saliva that had filled his mouth as you two were walking out of the room.

He felt awful, saliva kept filling his mouth over and over again and he just kept spitting it out. But the nausea was still there and it was strong.

He tried straightening his back for a bit to see if he would feel any different, but it just made his stomach flip again.

He bent over one more time and began gagging again, you could feel him tensing up under your touch with every gag but nothing but saliva came out. You felt horrible and could only hope people would just pass by and not notice him.

- Hyune? May I try something?

He just nodded. You massaged his stomach with a bit of pressure to see if you could stimulate it somehow to help him get whatever was making him feel bad out. But it didn't work, he just kept dry heaving.

- I-I feel awful...my stomach is churning and flipping but nothing is coming up...

- Oh baby...Why don't you try drinking some water? Maybe trying to get something in will help you throw up. Don't take small sips, just try to drink as you normally would.

You handed him your bottle of water and he drank it just as you said.

He drank almost half a bottle and he could feel his stomach revolting inside him. He bent over again and gagged a few times before his stomach contracted a little more and brought up all the water he had just drank but nothing else.

You kept rubbing his back as he proceeded to throw up water and thick saliva. In a few minutes, he was left dry heaving again. You gave him some water to rinse his mouth and then wiped it.

- Babe? Why don't we sit down for a bit?

- Hmm...

You guided him to a nearby tree and helped him sit down.

- How are you feeling?

- Sick...

- Okay. Let's go home. I'll go grab our stuff.

- I'm sorry...I'm sorry for interrupting your study...

- Don't apologize...I should be the one apologizing for not noticing sooner... Just wait here, I'll be right back.

He lay his back on the tree and tilted his head back with his eyes closed. He took deep breaths and tried to pay attention to his breathing or the sound of the leaves rustling with the wind, anything that could distract him from nausea in his stomach.

You grabbed your stuff and apologized for the sudden commotion and left to get the sick boy waiting by the tree.

- Come on, let's go. Can you stand?

- Can you help me?

- Of course.

You positioned your arms beneath his while he held you for support, and helped him to his feet. You stood like that for a while, with a firm grip on him, to make sure he wasn't feeling faint before heading to the car.

- Do you prefer to roll down your window or the AC?

- The AC...I'm afraid that any smell will enter the car if the windows are open.

- Okay. Babe, tell me if you feel like throwing up, okay? So I can at least try to pull over.

- Okay.

The first 30 minutes of the ride were okay. He kept his eyes closed while you held his hand, thank God for automatic cars. You kept quiet the whole time because you didn't want to overwhelm him.

But then, the worst happened. Traffic. For some reason, traffic stopped. And you felt desperate because you wanted to get home fast, so Hyunjin could rest.

- Shit! There must've been an accident or the traffic lights are broken...you okay?

He just nodded and closed his eyes again. You knew he wasn't okay, he was far from being okay. Traffic felt like it was moving one centimeter at a time.

He was okay at first because the car wasn't moving but the realization that he'd be stuck in a car for god knows how long while feeling sick made everything worse.

The nausea which was somewhat controlled, increased ten times. He squeezed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh while his hands gripped his thighs and the door handle with such force his knuckles turned white. He tried taking deep breaths but the sudden movement of the car made his stomach jolt. He felt something coming up his throat and started to swallow convulsively. There's no chance in hell he was gonna throw up inside the car, he had already ruined your study day and now he was going to soil your car with vomit? No chance.

You were too focused on the road, trying to understand what was causing the traffic jam, so you didn't notice him fidgeting by your side.

He managed to swallow it back but it was a useless effort. As soon as it went down it shot back up, hot foul tasting liquid hitting the back of his throat. He gagged and quickly brought his hands to his mouth, fearing the worst.

The gag snapped you back into the reality of the car.

- Hyune? You okay?

He barely made eye contact with you when his stomach jolted one more time, making him gag once more. But this time, vomit gushed out, slipping through his fingers, and soiling both him and your car.

- Oh my god! Hyune!

His stomach didn't give him time to think before contracting again and sending even more pale vomit up, once again escaping through his fingers.

You were shocked with the situation unfolding before your eyes so it took a few seconds for you to react.

You quickly reached for the glove box and found a little towel you always kept with you, considering how he had gotten sick in the car before.

- Oh babe! Don't worry.

You placed it on his lap and told him to open his hands and let the vomit fall on the towel, while you drove a little more. Once you stopped again, you looked for a plastic bag inside your stuff so that Hyunjin could throw up everything making him feel bad.

- Here. Use this.

- S-sorry...I'm s-sorry...

- Don't apologize. It's not your fault you're sick.

He closed his eyes as he gagged again, this time inside the bag, liquid coming out and hitting the back making a sickening sound. You could only rub his back and mutter some words while you drove.

- Oh baby, just let everything out.

He burped another wave, followed by another one making him bend forward a little and you could feel him tensing up under your hand.

- Just get everything out.

He gagged a few times until he threw up again, vomit mixing with the liquid inside the bag. The car was starting to smell and you both wanted to get out of there.

Thankfully, the traffic jam stopped and you as fast as you legally could to get home.

Arriving there, you went straight to Hyunjin's door to help him.

- Here. Let me get rid of this.

You threw away the bag filled with vomit and turned your full attention to him, who was sitting inside the car facing you.

- We're home, baby. Let's go. Can you stand?

- I don't kno-

He was cut off by a sudden gag that sent up more vomit making him bend forward and you barely escaped from soiling your shoes. You shifted to his side and rubbed his back as he vomited again.

- Here. Rinse your mouth and let's go up. You need to take a shower.

He rinsed his mouth and you helped him up, wrapping your hands around him and carefully heading to the elevator.

Arriving home, you went directly to the bathroom with Hyunjin. You helped him out of his soiled clothes and tossed them in the dirty laundry basket.

- You don't need to stay here...

- Hyune, we've been dating for quite some time now...you don't need to be embarrassed. I just don't want to risk you fainting in the shower. But I'll turn around if that will make you feel more comfortable.

- Thank you...sorry...

- it's okay, honey.

Thankfully the shower ended without any accidents, despite him dry heaving over the rain for a brief moment.

You helped him change clothes and then got the bed ready for him to sleep.

You embraced him in a tight hug and kissed the top of his head. And that was the last straw. He started to cry and sob and buried his face in your shoulder.

- Honey? Baby? Why are you crying?

You said with a cute voice and almost crying yourself.

- I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...

- it's okay, baby! Stop apologizing.

- but...I ruined your day...you couldn't study because of me, your car is completely dirty...I'm sorry

He said breaking down even more.

- Oh baby! There's nothing to apologize for. You were sick! It's not your fault! You didn't ruin my day! Stop worrying about that! Hyune, I love you! I'd never, not once, think that you ruined my day.

You said as you cupped his face in your hands and wiped his tears away.

- promise me you'll stop feeling guilty about it.

- I- I promise...

He said pouting. You kissed him and then embraced him again as you two lay in bed.

- How are you feeling?

- Still a little nauseous...

- Wait here a little bit, let me grab a bucket just in case.

You grabbed the bucket at light speed and went back to bed. You cuddled him and started rubbing his belly. He sunk under your touch and within minutes, the poor tired boy was fast asleep.

You changed your approach and kept stroking his hair until you fell asleep as well.

The night went on without any other incidents, the poor boy had his energy completely drained after everything that happened and you couldn't be more grateful that he managed to sleep like a rock until midday.

#emeto #sickfic #whump #kpop sickfic #kpop emeto #stray kids emeto #stray kids sickfic #skz emeto #skz fanfic #skz sickfic #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin emeto #hyunjin sickfic #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #seungmin x reader #jisung x reader #jeongin x reader #felix x reader #skz fluff #skz angst

[creativepawsworld]

Silence - Chapter 4

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Original Character

Summary = The Shelby’s have a bonfire in protest to the police entering the local's home, destroying their belongings in search of something they believe the Peaky Blinders have. Thomas pays a visit to Anastasia after the destruction offering her a pay-out for the damages caused.

Warnings = Police entitlement, language, alcohol,

Word Count = 2410

I had thrown myself into my work since leaving the Shelby betting shop, the words the elder brother shouted as I rushed past him played on my mind like a broken record player. The words chipped away at my self-confidence, my self-worth and instead of talking to my brother who wanted to know what happened, but I simply ignored his question, acting as if nothing happened.

I know it was stupid to let the words eat away at me as much as I have. Men were vulgar especially around the poorer areas of Birmingham, there was no class, no decorum just blunt, rude, offensive behaviour.

I understand there is woman who chose said profession to earn a wage but not me, I haven’t even had a first proper kiss nor a romantic relationship. I wouldn’t know what to do if the situation ever presentation itself.

To make my day worse the meeting I had with Mrs Gray that afternoon was rather hurried, she rushed over what it was she wanted which from what I gathered soundly rather complex especially for the time frame of 3 days in which she had given me. So, I had no choice but to bury my head in my work, working late into the night sometimes to perfect my work on the softer blended cotton black dress with embellishments of lace and pearls.

The air around town the last few days, was uneasy. I felt it every time I went a walk around the street. The gossip around town was that Arthur Shelby had been taken into police custody by two officers only to reappear a few hours later beaten to a pulp.

Despite my good nature I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Arthur getting a piece of his medicine for the beating he gave my brother. No bad deed goes unpunished. However due to the new Chief Inspector taking over the investigation into the Shelby family and some stolen guns. Everything started to become worse for the innocent working people like myself. We were searched, stopped and interrogated whenever we left Peaky Blinder territory, and it was only to get worse.

Tonight, as my parents were closing up the shop, I was busy finishing the dress for Mrs Gray for the next evening when my brother crashed through the front door informing my parents that the police were raiding our home, trashing and throwing everything at their feet regardless of the value or sentiment.

My father told my mother and I to stay in the shop while he had a word but the moment he opened the door, the police pushed past him knocking him over as they began to toss our fabrics, needles and machines around the room, determined to locate whatever they were tasked to find.

Visibly shaking I ran for comfortable in my brothers' arms as he called the police ever name under the sun, something my mother would usually chastise him for, but tonight it was clear she encouraged the behaviour, spitting at the feet of an officer who tried to move her aside to get towards the back of the room.

I knew this had something to do with those bloody Peaky Blinders, it always had something to do with them. Huffing in annoyance, I pulled away from my brother throwing my coat around my shoulders and headed out into the cold evening while they finished their destruction on our shop.

As I looked around me, it was clear it wasn’t just our home being destroyed, other residents of Small Heath were watching the vicious behaviour of law enforcement ruining their homes. The clear cry of unrest, of anger was writhe in the streets. Men were trying to fight off the officers only to be placed under arrest or beaten, others were trying comfort their wives and families, helplessly watching on and where were the Peaky Blinders?

Nowhere to be seen. So much for being under their protection.

It was over as quick as it began, the street was clear of all and any law enforcement, residents were entering their homes to evaluate the damage, screams and cries of anger were all that was left tonight.

Re-entering my family home, I couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped my lips, it was completely trashed. My mother was sobbing in my father's arms while my brother tidied as best, he could, careful not to cut himself on any ceramic from some of the broken plates. It took us an hour to get everything back in order, with still the shop to go. It was going to be a long night of cleaning only my mother and father said the shop could wait as they needed to check on my grandmother in Artillery Street while my brother went off to God only knew where, leaving me alone.

Unsure of what to do with myself, I locked our front door and went next door deciding to clean up the tailor shop as best I could alone. Tears began to fall my eyes as the now destroyed dress I had been working so hard on for Mrs Gray lay ruined. The officers with their rough hands had torn the fabric in half leaving a huge gaping hole in what would have been the rear of the dress, the pearl beads I had placed along the top of the bodice, were missing. I saw a few sitting freely on different fabrics, others were on the floor. Bending down to pick up the loose beads before someone slipped and fell on them, I placed them on the ruined dress as I stood to my feet.

“So, they got to you too, eh?” I heard a voice that sent chills down spine. I felt anger building in my stomach, it was his fault I was in this mess, why we were all in this mess. Refusing to turn around, I didn’t want him to see me cry.

Pushing my shoulder back, standing tall I used my hand to rub away the tears, wiping the dampness on my dress as I continued to pick up some more discarded fabric, choosing to ignore his presence all together. “We are burning pictures of the King on Watery Lane, protest for all this” He informed me, I could hear him getting closer with every word he spoke the action alone telling me he had no intentions of leaving just yet.

“And how exactly is burning a picture going to replace the valuables that were lost tonight?” I ask with a scoff. Placing some random fabrics back in my wicker basket in the corner of the room before pushing my small desk up to its upright position. Reaching down to grab the heavy sewing machine, I felt a hand on my upper arm softly stopping me from lifting the machine and pushing me aside. I almost choked on the smoke from his cigarette that was casually resting between his lips as he picked up the machine with ease, placing it on the desk I had just fixed.

“It’s symbolic. I have a reporter here taking notes to write an article. It’ll go directly to the paper. Gain the attention of those in power and let them know we won’t stand for this. It also brings everyone together. Let's everyone know we are here for them; we will protect them.” Thomas spoke, his hand coming up to remove the cigarette from his lips as he stared down at me “Also this might help you and your family”

“I can’t accept this” I gasp at the notes of money in his hand that he was trying to pay me. I noticed his annoyance as he placed the cigarette back between his lips, his head falling back slightly as he stared above him, clearly thinking what to say to ease the tension between us.

Taking the opportunity to get away from him I took one step back almost falling over some loose fabric only to be saved by two strong hands pulling me tightly against their solid chest.

“Careful” He breathed, tight lipped so the cigarette wouldn’t fall. I could feel his breathe on my face as I stared up at him, losing myself completely in his eyes. My hands had a mind of their own as they began to wander from his toned chest towards his strong biceps, I just couldn’t stop myself as my fingers wrapped around his arms squeezing for a moment before my brother's voice was head in my mind… ‘Don’t fall in love with a gangster please’

Jumping away from the man in front of me as if he were on fire, my head hung low in embarrassment at my actions. Unsure of what to say or even do, the only movement Thomas had made was putting his arms down by his sides, the intense stare of his blue eyes however, never once faltering from face. I couldn’t help but admire his control over his emotions, it was impressive.

“I appreciate you coming to check on me Mr Shelby, but I am sure you have others you need to be there for” I tell him with a sniff, trying my hardest to sound brave with every emotion going wild within me.

Taking the hint, not another word was spoken as he put the pile of money on my sewing table, his hand reached into his pocket pulling out his peaked cap putting it on his head before exiting the shop.

Exhaling loudly, I shook my head there was no point in staying here by myself and I had always loved the idea of a bonfire. My grandmother would talk about how magical they are, as it was at a bonfire 80 years ago, she met my grandfather and fell madly in love.

Since I was a little girl, it was my own personal fairy tale, one I often wondered if it held any magic for me. Taking the money from my desk, I shoved it into my purse, walking out of the shop and towards the loud commotion that could be heard on Watery Lane.

I could see the black smoke rising over the houses before even entering the street. Thomas wasn’t kidding it was huge. Images of the King were melting away, turning into ash as the flames consumed everything in its path. I was standing at the edge of the street; the fierce heat of the fire travelling towards me taking the chill out of the air.

Buttoning up my coat I held my purse tight, walking closer to the fire, kids were running around laughing as they chased one another their parents merry with the drinks provided from the Garrison, a good will gesture from the Peaky Blinders.

Mesmerised by the colours in the fire, I felt myself getting lost in the brightly coloured embers as I watched them dance in contrast to the night sky. Many neighbours had placed an arm around my shoulders pulling me into a hug for a brief second before going off to do their own thing. Thomas was right about it bringing everyone together, it was almost like the event that happened mere hours ago was already forgotten.

I was pulled from my thoughts with a feeling of being watched, looking past the flames I found those piercing blue eyes looking directly at me. Unable to break away I watched as he nodded his head briefly with what looked to be a small, barely noticeable smile on his face.

Smiling to myself, a light blush filled my cheeks, I tried hard to blame it on the heat of the fire, but I knew it was the effect Thomas Shelby’s smile had on me, I just couldn’t admit it to myself. My eyes flickered to my right when a man accidentally bumped into my side, brushing off his apologies with a smile I turned back to Thomas only to find him gone.

Looking around the area I couldn’t find him anywhere amongst the fellow residents of Small Heath dancing and celebrating. Feeling a little deflated, I turned on my heels walking near the path when I saw him once again, only this time he had each of his brothers to his side. John being the youngest of the three on his right, Arthur to his left.

The three men walked with purpose as the crowd parted when they approached. Hearing a door open next to me, I moved slightly to the left as a young blonde woman appeared, bucket in hand. It was only then I realised I had walked my way towards the famous Garrison, a bar I had yet to visit.

The woman emptied the bucket down the drain, giving me a brief smile before her eyes went towards the crowd, stopping as she found whatever she was looking for. Following her eyeline, there was none other than Thomas Shelby, his hand to his lips pulling yet another cigarette from them to blow the smoke into the air, his walk never once faltering as he held this woman’s gaze before he and his brothers disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

“Great evening, isn’t it?” The blonde woman smiled standing next to me with a now empty bucket in her hands. “Do you know the Shelby’s well?” She asked turning her attention to me, the question throwing me off guard.

“Me? Oh no, not really. My father tailors their suits that’s about it” I tell her honestly. Nodding her head, she forced out another smile, bidding me a goodnight before disappearing back into the pub.

Shaking off the odd feeling I had received from the woman, I walked closer to the fire once more admiring it beauty. My neighbour Mrs Andrews came up beside me, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders which I honestly didn’t need but I didn’t want to appear rude. Smiling brightly at the woman, I nodded a thank you as her husband handing me a small glass of what looked to be bitter.

“It’s good to see you out and not coped up inside. A beautiful girl like you” Mrs Andrews grinned wrapping her arms around me. I didn’t exactly know how to respond to her words, for years I was under the impression my neighbours didn’t like me yet here we were celebrating the destruction of our homes and our alliance to the Peaky Blinders with burning images of our King.

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #originalcharacter #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #original #peaky blinders #peakyblinders #cillian murphy fanfic

[levmada]

Heavy thinking of kitty levi and breeding us….again……

this is what i have to say about that

also ive been obsessively rereading sar's recent blurbs so...this is a little inspired.

//praise, breeding press, hybrids (kitty levi), heats, doggy style, toys (prostate massager; fleshlight), multiple orgasms (m!receiving), overstimulation

-

When Levi’s knees are crowding the outside of your thighs, mounting you, his balls clapping against your wet pussy in quicker and sloppier thrusts because he needs another, and another, and another before maybe it’ll be enough for his heat to burn out...

His fat and swollen cock pinning your used pussy open for him to bury more of his cum inside. Blunt canines nicking your sweaty neck when his balls finally lift and drain inside for… who knows how many times now.

Whimpering into your hair. “Feels good, so good. Need more from my girl, yeah—mmm, fucking squeeze me like that...”

The metal of his collar doesn’t give any cool relief from the sweat pasting your bodies. Every light jingle is just another sharp thrust, rocking your bodies and slapping the headboard against the wall.

He’s relentless. You’re all but motionless, pussy spread and mouth constantly agape when he whimpers he’s coming again and another load of heat shoots inside you.

It’s hot. All you smell is thick sweat and sex, and what tears bleed down your cheeks, Levi’s tongue obediently laps up.

“I need—” He goes up on his haunches and grips your hips for a flurry of quick, hard thrusts. “Take it, take my cum more, fuck fuck fuck—”

You cry, thin and wrung out when his knot starts to swell on your rim. Your pussy takes the stretch, squeezing him, milking him. “L-Lev’…”

By your rapid shaking and the arch your back starts to take despite the press he has you in, you’re falling into another weak climax.

He collapses onto your back and dutifully rubs your raw clit through it. The rapid squeeze your pussy makes, working around his swollen cock, pushes him over the edge especially early into his heat, but near the end it isn’t enough, and sooner or later, you can’t take anymore.

“Break, kitty.”

Levi whines the loss, but he obeys, bullying his knot out and rolling onto his back. His legs spread, squirming, because he’s still fucking hard and throbbing for more. Below, his balls sit heavily above his pink, twitching hole.

After you retrieve the massager, still wet, from the end of the bed, Levi’s hand is already firmly working his cock by the time you grab his big thigh and work it back inside him.

You’re careful, you’re always careful, but it takes no resistance at all. He gasps once it's inside, his little hole squeezing its heavy girth. Once it's pressed snug against that spot, he moans out his relief. The base of the toy hugs his taint, brushing his balls.

“Turn it on.” Levi’s head has dropped back onto the pillows. “Please please please.”

The tops of your thighs are snug on either side of his hips, which rut when the vibrations start. You watch his pinched face slacken in relief, his tail nudging up and curling around the bend of your knee.

“Sorry, s’just…”

“I know,” you soothe breathlessly. “You’re a good boy. Keep fucking my hand for me. You need more?”

Levi’s cock is bright maroon, soaking wet from cum, lube, and spit. He fucks your fist with ease through his next climax, spilling a rivet of cum onto his belly, but after that, he does need more. You suck his tip clean before giving him the fleshlight.

Your mouth his searing. Whimpering, he hardens easily on your tongue before you slide the fake pussy on, down to the base.

The vibrations still rumble softly, nestled in his ass, his taint and up against his balls, but you know he’ll need more by the time his heat burns itself out from sheer exhaustion.

Even though the pussy isn’t you, a light sob still wracks Levi’s chest in relief.

His fluffy ears lay flat and twitch as you increase the vibrations. He isn't quiet for a moment; both toys combined hits his every spot, making him fuck the sleeve with sloppy desperation, moaning nonsense.

“Gonna come again,” he grunts, head rolling back, “Oh, fucking—please.”

His body picks up a shake, and you coo, “Such a good boy.”

Until you’re ready again, you’ll keep helping him fuck himself this way. Still, there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

-

taglist: @ackermandick | @midtwenties-angst | @sckerman | @erwinfortheblade | @halloweenmedic | @katty | @jayteacups | @notgoodforlife | @peace-for-levi | @chaotic-nick | @b-o-n-e-daddy | @levisbrat25 | @1-800-mocha | @im-a-killer-queen | + link to sign up

#levi ackerman smut #levi smut #levi x reader smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #captain levi x you #levi x reader #levi x you #aot #levi x fem!reader #levi ackermann x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #aot smut #g.scribe #kitty levi

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

The Flash #789 was... interesting. Let's unpack it a little bit.

The Good:

- Our beloved boy, the Pied Piper, has returned! It is fantastic to see Piper featured alongside his best friends Linda and Wally once again. Likewise, the kids calling Piper their uncle was very endearing. The fact that Wally and Hartley work together and are doing lunch dates is very cute.

- Status quo changes! The Rogues are working alongside Wally and Wolfe. That will be... interesting. It will be neat to see how/if they are able to handle working for the city for legitimate reasons. Also Wolfe is now an agent for the lords of order. I like that things are getting switched up a little bit and the status quo is being played around with.

- The West family is as adorable as always. It's always good to see them predominantly featured in Flash comics.

- Wally is competent. We see his detective skills on display and he pieces the mystery together very quickly. (Like he'd do it slowly lol) We also have Wally briefly talking about being unmoored and the knowledge he has from the chair which was... surprising to say the least. Normally speedsters bury their heads in the sand when their more godlike abilities are involved. But no, Wally seemed to actually know about this and, when faced with a lord of order, was more than willing to play that card to get them to back down. I'm actually impressed.

- Hey, look at that. There is continuity. Never thought I'd see that in a DC comic.

The Bad:

- Exposition overload! Holy cow! Wally does the villain monologue for the villain and then he does a detective monologue laying everything out and then he does a 'last ditch effort to appeal to a god' speech about humanity. Might as well call this issue 'Wally doesn't shut up for 20 pages and also other people are there I guess'.

- Piper is a background character. Seriously, Piper shows up, saves Wally's ass, says hi to the family and then Wally goes off without him? Huh? In what world does Piper stay on the sidelines? Sure he shows up later with the family but why would he not stick with Wally the entire time. I really don't get it.

- Linda is pregnant and getting tossed around like a rag doll. Hey. We- we all know what happened with Linda's last pregnancy, right??? Why is Linda fighting crime and taking serious blows while pregnant??? I feel like after a traumatizing miscarriage from blunt force trauma you would maybe... not put yourself into the direct line of fire while pregnant.

#dc #dc comics #wally west #the flash #kid flash #linda park #irey west #jai west #the pied piper #hartley rathaway

[bubble-masquerade]

Pt. 2!! of the oc project with my sister @bogwatertrash

Sylvie

Name Meaning: From the forest

Turtle Species: Southern Painted Turtle

Southern Painted turtle Average adult size ranges from 4 to 6 inches with a lifespan of 30 to 40 years 

It is an subspecies of the painted turtle, and is the smallest of the painted turtle sub species 

Semi aquatic and can be found close to swamps, marshes, ponds, lakes, and rivers. 

They also prefer slow moving waters They can also be found basking on partially submerged logs on water bodies

Red middorsal line on carapace

Omnivorous. Various invertebrates, aquatic vegetation

Plants, small animals, such as fish, crustaceans, aquatic insects, and some carrion.

Young painted turtles are mainly carnivorous, acquiring a taste for plants later in life

Southern Painted turtles generally enjoy being left alone, whether that means they are in the wild or in a tank at home.

 It is possible to handle a Southern Painted turtle, and the more you do so the more likely your new friend will become used to being held

Because of their size and instincts, Southern Painted turtles tend not to like it when other animals or creatures get too close to their head. 

If you make quick movements near their head, you can expect them to flinch away or even try to bite you

Personality/Other Info 

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

Gender: Cisgender Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Introvert

How she was found: In a bag as a tot in an alley way 

Some Knowledge of basic magic. Craft specialty is Plant magic 

Support swapper 

Has a cute tooth gap 

Prefers to be with her siblings/parental unit, especially when it comes to going out to places where large groups of people will be attending

Terrified of Jurassic park. Got traumatized from the t-rex scene as a tot and hasn’t watched it since

Gets in to chaotic messes with Klee (in which Klee is leading)

Loves quality time with her siblings when they aren’t all together doing something/getting in to trouble. Also enjoys parallel play

A sweetheart and a savage. Head in the clouds and she sometimes gets distracted 

When she hyperfocuses it can be hard to get her attention 

Favorite movie/show genres are dramedy/disaster films. However she cannot stand horror 

She ADORES her plants. From her flowers to her shrubs, and has even grown stuff for Pedro and Caly to work with in the kitchen. Has a terrarium that absolutely nobody is allowed to touch tho. She will cry. Also, expect small houseplants everywhere

Enjoys warm weather and the fall. Doesn't like it when it gets hot 

Wears a stim bracelet on each wrist, beaded and colorful, almost never takes them off 

More of a follower than a leader in the shenanigans with Klee. is the one to say “it was almost a great idea” knowing everything usually goes wrong

Does swear, surprisingly. But its mostly softly under her breath 

Has a habit of taking naps in the greenhouse. So there's now a large beanbag, pillows, and blankets in there 

Is okay with affectionate touches as long as she’s not overwhelmed/over stimulated 

☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

Klee 

Name Meaning: Clover

Turtle Species: Bog Turtle

Orange/Yellow/Red Spots behind/above ears

Shell- Usually brown, grey, mahogany. Sometimes has Amber/Dark colored lines

Plastron- Usually pale yellow with irregular black blotches

Diurnal and secretive, it spends most of its time buried in mud and – during the winter months – in hibernation.

They are very timid and like to stay hidden

The bog turtle is one of the smallest living turtles.

Personality/Other Info

Pronouns: Any she/he/they 

Gender: Agender

Sexuality: Pansexual 

Ambivert

How they were found: Climbed on the back of a mexi-boys food truck as a tot and made their way to New York. Found kung fu panda style. Scared the shit outta the poor truck driver/worker unfortunately 

Still Learning about the magic system. Craft Specialty is Necromancy

She can be blunt, childish, forgetful, secretive, and pretty impatient at times

Whenever given the chance, will only wear odd socks (One longer than the other / Two different colors). A sock gremlin if you will

Very adventurous and bold. Very active and energetic at times. Unfriendly to certain people they come across

They get pretty careless when it comes to chores and basic at home duties. Baby sibling attitude

Is constantly fidgeting with something. HATES eye contact

Favorite movie genres are horror/thriller. Knows Sylvie doesn’t enjoy those kinds of movies so during family movie nights he doesn’t suggest them. Waits till they know Sylvie is busy to watch them with the others or warns her ahead of time if they want to watch the movies in the living room

Should seriously not be allowed to handle any money

Loves clowns. Don't know why, but they do. Every Halloween they go as a clown. As a tot, it was very cutesy stuff. But the older they get the more unhinged they look 

Loves rainy, foggy weather. Silent Hill vibe type stuff

Collects bones. Cleans them as a hobby and is also getting in to making jewelry out of them 

Sleeps with a plushie still. Needs it to fall asleep

Tries to get away with everything. Hates being grounded

Isn’t really the touchy type. As a tot though you’d find her napping with Sylvie

#rottmnt #tmnt #art #artists on tumblr #digital artwork #berry art #rottmnt oc #rottmnt oc art #tmnt oc #digital aritst #digital drawing #artist #oc art #sylvie oc #klee oc #rise of the tmnt #ramble post #i had to repost this again cuz tumblr fucked it up #oc #rise oc

[tchallasbabymama]

Gotta write that sweaty night in Haiti after a long day of the King trying to maintain a poised demeanor around the unbelievably ravishing headmistress of the outreach center school.

Once they're back in her simple, but beautiful house near the beach they drink wine from back home and watch the sun sink into the distant waves, from her balcony. He remembers his first kiss with her and can't take his eyes off her for a long time.

She notices it as she always does, but as minutes pass, she can almost feel it undressing her where she stands. She glances at his expression, which a stranger might have mistaken for anger. Since she was no stranger, she just smirks and leans further down onto the railing to drive this hopeless case of an ass man wild.

He tries his best to remain a gentleman and goes for a soft kiss on her lips. It doesn't feel enough, though.

They go back in, getting a better taste. But they don't feel like they can stop. Nakia wraps her hand around him to pull him forward, and in return, he hoists her legs up to wrap around his waist. His already hard dick almost spurts cum when he realizes that this damn lady hasn't been wearing anything below her skirt all evening.

He smirks inwardly, but glowers at her with pure hunger radiating from his entire body. Her pussy against his crotch has soaked a patch into his light shorts, which were already damp from his weeping length.

Cornering her into the nearby couch,

he made her lie down, spreading her legs to the heavens and to his eyes. He only took them off her to pour himself some water to wash the wine out of his mouth. That's what Nakia loved about her man. He could look so dangerously hungry while doing the little things to keep her safe.

He sunk to his knees and lowered his lips to caress her folds at first, but soon gave up acting like he wasn't famished for her pussy. Her legs quaked with every growl that erupted from his throat as he ate her out like his namesake would relish an antelope. His rough tongue ghosted over her clit at first but sped up in pace as he buried his beautiful visage between her coffee legs.

It was quite dark now, and she could only see the glint of his panther necklace on the gleaming copper shoulders. His head of curls tickled her pubes, and his beard did the same to her perineum- she could hear someone moaning in sync with how she felt at that, and soon realized that it was her own voice.

She was getting close, and prepared for the wave to crash before she felt him rise. He panted very slightly as she groaned in loss. His silhouette shifted, and a blunt, hot, rock hard length of flesh made contact with her aching thigh. But he hesitated, and leaned forward and whispered into her ear.

"I've reversed it. Anything we do without protection is going to..."

Nakia caressed his curls. "I've always wanted it... and now I'm ready. I've never felt more settled before."

T'Challa smiled and touched his forehead to her with a softness that told quite a different story from how his crotch pressed up against her ass.

"And the wedding?"

Nakia was silent. She knew it wasn't going to happen with the elders deciding things.

"I could do it, Nakia... just give me some time." He tapped it slowly on her clit as he reassured her.

She nodded, but blurted out in sheer arousal "But I cannot give you time right now... are you going to put that dick in me or-?"

T'Challa chuckled darkly as he slid it down her folds and into her pussy with slow, deliberate force. "I'll give you whatever you want."

She whimpered as it filled her up repeatedly. His thumb made its way down to flick her pearl, slow enough to prolong it, but firmly enough to keep her vagina dilated with arousal.

~ 20 minutes and four (of Nakia's) orgasms later~

"NAKIA! SITHANDWA!" He roared, snapping his hips erratically into hers, making her ample bottom ripple with the impact.

"Yes, baby, give me our baby, T'Challa..." Nakia sighed, smiling, sated and lazily enjoying her love's impassioned pounding.

"AAAAAAAARGHHHHH!" He nearly screamed loud enough for her neighbors from the next farm to hear him. Probably the way he wanted it. At that moment he looked into her eyes with more love than any other man could put into a glance.

She could feel his now fertile seed pumping into her as he locked his hips into the position, only jolting with the waves of his orgasm. And they both were moved to tears from how close they felt.

They kissed once more and T'Challa pulled out, spilling more and more seed all over her sore thighs and soft belly.

"I love you, my Queen..."

"So do I, my King..."

That smirk on her lips made T'Challa want to just make sure that she'd get pregnant this night.

(Ok So I ended up actually writing part of it instead of just telling you about it, but who's complaining!)

I’m certainly not mad at it!

#slide up in my ask box #ask cece #t’challa x nakia

[just-thal]

FFXIVWrite 2022 6. Onerous cw: smoking

Shish struck a match against his palm and lit a rolled cigarette tucked between his lips. A flick of the wrist extinguished the match, and a breath in and out birthed a cloud of smoke in front of him. He took the cigarette between a thumb and forefinger and considered the person sat across from him through the grey.

They were older than Shish, a little. Hannish, with a turban different from the one he was wearing, but styled and bound just as carefully. Light and greying stubble marked their tan face, and heavy, thick brows framed eyes that watched him back. They had offered no name; he had not asked.

They were both reclined by Shish's korsi, which was never lit but for the coldest months. It was summer now, and even the blanket atop it was cast aside for the heat. His samovar, copper, sat on one corner, steaming gently from a vent. There would be tea later if they pleased. The rest of the flat was obscured by emerald curtains Shish had drawn tight, though faint aromas of stew and spice meandered through a gap.

"What do you need?" Shish asked, and took another drag.

They crossed their arms. "I have a weakness in my shoulder." The right arm unfolded to nurse the left. "Nervous, I think."

"When did it start, and how?"

"It set in gradually. Too many years with a hammer, I think."

He nodded and tipped fresh ash into a tray. "It happens."

"Aye," they said, grimacing. "But I still need to work. It's difficult to manage when it goes numb so easily."

One more drag, and Shish set the cigarette against the ashtray. His hand, free now, rested on the woven fiber tablemat. "I can help with that." His thumb drew circles on his fingers.

"That's why 'm here. What can you do?"

"Have you heard of pluto?" The thumb stopped, and he locked his eyes over his glasses.

"Yes." They shuffled at the look, scratching the back of their neck. "Of course. I've considered it, but it's expensive."

"Not here."

"Why not?"

"I charge what it's worth."

The scratching hand lowered, slow, and rested on the table to mirror his. "So you'll give me pluto?"

"Not just pluto." The thumb resumed its motion; his eyes did not. "It's too blunt an instrument on its own. I would mix it with salts, and mix those salts to soften them. You take it through the nose when the weakness strikes. It should revive the nerves somewhat."

"Somewhat?"

"Nothing is perfect."

"Alright."

Shish sized them up and down, not for the first time that day, and did not cease his watch. "Do you drink?"

"Uh—yes." Their brows arched, raising a question buried in the answer.

"Not while using the pluto."

"No?"

Shish took a deep breath, clean, and let his glasses slide a fraction of an ilm down his nose. "They don't mix. You risk worse than weakness if you try."

"O—Okay," they said, rubbing anxious palms against their pants. "Okay."

"Not a drop," Shish repeated. "Not before you use the pluto, and not until after it's worn off. Do you understand?"

There was a silence, and it seemed they would buckle under his question. But their arms calmed and their brow settled, and they nodded through a sigh. "I understand."

Shish broke his gaze and reached for the cigarette, tapping out the ash that had accumulated. He wove another cloud between them, and smiled.

"Good. I'll get you what you need, friend."

"How much?"

"First one is always on the house."

#ffxivwrite2022 #self #took a minute to figure out what to do with this one

[myocstm]

Spider Wych

Gender:

Nonbinary

Pronouns:

They/Them

Age:

25

Sexuality:

Abrosexual

Birthday:

November 5th

Zodiac Sign:

Scorpio

Good Trait:

Intelligent

Bad Trait:

Blunt

Likes:

Real Life Andrew Garfield

Ben Reilly

Dislikes:

Green Goblin

Party Parker

Extra:

Peter and Wych both worked as interns for Octavius Industries in college. They met their sophomore year and became best friends. Wych was there when Peter got bit and they both dealt with it together and Wych being autistic and interested in science wrote everything down that they had learned and they would kinda be like the wade to Peter's Kim possible. Like the guy in the chair type situation. As for their budding romance, Peter and Wych had kissed once and had planned a first date after years of dancing awkwardly around each other. It was the night of their first date that Peter was killed. They had been getting ready separately and were going to meet up at a restaurant, but Peter was running late and he was like hey green goblin is doin some bullshit, I'll deal with it real quick and I'll be there. And Wych was like ight whatever so they're just hanging out and they're sitting at the table and looking out the window and they see Peter and Goblin in the distance approaching quickly. Wych goes to stand outside to see if they can be of any help. Shit goes bad, shit's exploding, pieces of building and flying everywhere. Wych isn't paying attention, eyes on Peter, but Peter give Wych a look and goblin notices. He taunts Peter about it and then out of nowhere throws a bomb that explodes the building above them. Wych isn't fast enough to get out of the way so Peter rushes to get them out, shoving them out of the way, but in the process gets crushed. Wych screams and starts to dig through the rubble, but Peter is very obviously dead. Nearly bisected, very traumatizing, but they whole time Wych is trying to like give cpr and to get him to come back, clearly very much in denial about the obvious. Goblin, satisfied, goes to do whatever he was originally doing after saying some horrible shit or whatever. I haven't thought that far. idk if I want it to be him even but anyway, People try to pull Wych away, but they fight. By the time the police and emergency services get there Wych is in so much shock that they just lead them away and they sit for a long time with a shock blanket while the police ask them questions that they aren't listening to and barely can reply to A few days later the funeral happens and it's very sad yadda yadda. Wych is one of the last people to leave after he's been buried and on the way home they end up just falling to the ground and sobbing. They're there for a while before they go to stand and press their hand onto the ground to get up. They feel a sharp pain and yank their hand away and low and behold, there's a lil fuckin spider that they recognize immediately. They get pissed. Extremely angry screaming picking stuff up and slamming it into the brick walls of the alley until it devolves into a horrible cry sesh where they scream at the sky that it was too fucking late for this it wasn't going to fix anything. But then they decide right there that they are going to kill goblin in the worst way possible, but right now it's too much to handle so they run away to their and Peter's dumb secret hideout in the woods where they isolate for over a year.

#humans

[andrewuttaro]

Catechetical Cat (Week XXIX) Avalanche

Grief can’t be deeper than love. It’s precisely how hard we love that causes that anguish of grief.

Melinda Ribnek

There was this guy I worked with in my Dunkin Donuts days who was from Colorado. He and I went to the same school, but it seems as if we talked the most when we had that precious little off time between shifts behind the counter. He was a snowboarder and spoke of his winter trips back home in almost religious terms. It seemed as if much of his life was intermissions between trips to the mountain. Apparently his parents’ separation is what saw him crossing the country several times a year. He only mentioned that in passing as it was clear snowboarding was his sanctuary. In a rare moment he was vulnerable enough to say the deeper part out loud. He said once you get good at something that refreshes you it allows you the mental time and space to really process what needs to be processed. He said you have do this processing so the pain of what you’ve suffered doesn’t hit you all at once like an avalanche. I swear: he really did use an avalanche metaphor. I’ll never forget him for that reason too.

Strength is such a weird thing. We say we need to be strong as if it’s a blunt force you break down doors with. The truth is that any kind of strength is a skill of some acumen. You need to work it if you want to get anything out of it as the old saying goes. It is so confounding that some of us have gotten it in our heads that building up walls around our true feelings is some kind of strength. It may be a temporary strategy to process them properly at a later time, but we need to be honest enough with ourselves to be sufficiently honest with others. Few hidden things are healthy things. And yes, sometimes we even think we can hide things from ourselves.

The truth always comes in equal measure. If we commit to building up the stuff we don’t want to deal with in imagined internal compartments we’re just readying ourselves to be buried under the avalanche when we can’t hold it all back anymore. That time comes. It always comes. The only true loss in it, because nobody is ever too far gone, is that wasted time to love and be loved. Life may play brutal, cynical games with us, but we can only manage what variable about that: ourselves. If something is hurtful you have to process the hurt at some point. The most basic strength we can build up in ourselves is managing avalanches… or preventing them before they happen. From that willingness to take care of ourselves comes every other kind of strength. In a way its that first strength we learn as small children, learning that sometimes we need to set our most base desires aside for something else. My snowboarding coworker said he doesn’t know if we would have survived High School without those trips to the mountain. As he grew up he realized it wasn’t the mountain that saved his life but the strength he found up there.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Ships in the Night [pt.2] || Bucky

Summary: A training exercise goes wrong but it makes everything right. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, nightmares, oral (f rec), implied smut. WC: 2.6k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || Part One || Part Two

One Month Later

You were surprised to see Nat waiting in the training room the next morning but she quickly explained that yet another mission had called Sam and Bucky away, something that you should get used to at the compound. The next week passed by slowly, your dreams lacking something you couldn’t identify but it left you exhausted when you woke, a deep sense of dissatisfaction filling you when your eyes fluttered open. Each day you entered the gym and felt the urge to sigh as you found Nat waiting, something you felt guilty about since she was a great teacher and you didn’t understand why you missed the surly trainer.

Your poor sleep was affecting you more than you realised when you entered the gym and found Sam and Bucky laying out thick foam mats on the floor. Your heart raced and you chastised yourself for being happy at Bucky’s return, something he didn’t seem as pleased about given he scowl on his face. His mat slapped to the floor as he haphazardly threw them down, Sam’s more meticulous process far quieter. Bucky looked up as the door closed behind you and you felt self conscious as his eyes roamed over your training outfit, the mat compressing under his tight grip.

There were dark bags under his eyes and his hair pushed back like it had been brushed with his fingers enough times to fight its natural style, your eyebrows furrowing as you wondered why he was so dishevelled. You could have reached out with your powers to read him but you didn’t like doing that without permission, and you were getting better with avoiding accidental readings. Still, you wondered how bad the mission had been to leave him looking like that.

“How was your mission?” You asked as you pulled your shirt off to reveal your racerback that you would train in.

Bucky’s teeth seemed to grit at the mention and he muttered an unconvincing, “fine.”

You knew when someone wasn’t wanting to talk so you let it drop as you slipped your shoes off and stepped onto the mat. “Where do you want me?”

Sam chuckled as he locked the last mat into place and dusted his hands off. “On that note, I’m off to debrief Fury. Good luck.”

He left the room faster than your mind could determine who he was talking to and you were left looking bewildered while Bucky radiated anger, his eyes glaring daggers into his partner's back. You rolled on the balls of your feet as you waited for Bucky to answer but he merely walked to the weapons cupboard and grabbed two wooden knives. He tossed you one as he stepped onto the mat and you weighed it in your hand to get a feel for the balance and the grip before you felt Bucky’s intention to attack.

You threw your head back and spun away as the blade passed over your face, the grain of the wood clear at the unintentional close up view you got. While the training knives couldn’t really stab you didn’t mean that you couldn’t be hurt by it so it was best to avoid that if possible. The next attack couldn’t be avoided as easily and you used your forearm to deflect the glancing blow Bucky served, pain lacerating up your ulna and fracturing the walls that kept your power at bay.

“Can we take a break?” You asked as he circled you like a predator, your mental strength deteriorating quickly as the pain and poor sleep worked to erode your walls.

His lip twitched and his feet glided silently over the mat. “Will you get breaks on a mission?”

“No but-”

He didn’t wait to hear you out as he attacked, his arm swinging wide with the blunt point of the blade aiming for your neck. You threw your own arm up defensively, the other hand holding your knife along your forearm to take the hit but he suddenly dropped his knife. His free hand moved quicker than lightning to catch the blade before he attempted to bury it in your gut. His movements were so smooth and efficient you forgot that you were merely training, a real flash of fear erupting out of you in a sonic wave at the touch of the wood.

Your power ensnared Bucky’s mind, your fear spilling into him like a flood of glacial water down his throat, freezing him from the inside out. The ice spread across his chest and he felt the wind whipping around him as he relived his fall from the train and into the icy raveen. You watched with trembling hands as Bucky looked almost electrocuted, the tense fusion of his muscle holding him locked in shock as he fell back to the mats.

“Bucky, oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You whispered as you crashed to the floor beside him, his eyes open wide but seeing a reality far different from you. “I’m sorry.”

The second apology was for what you were about to do. You pressed your hands to his temples, closing your eyes as you let your power flow into him and stepped into his inner sanctum. Déjà rêvé hit you as you looked around the icy terrain you were suddenly falling through, the ground never getting closer, the train never receding. Remembering where you had seen it before was like trying to snatch a slippery snake, every time you thought you got close it slithered from your grasp.

Bucky had one hand raised like he expected someone to take hold of it but you saw no one else around, his other hand reaching for the tags hanging around his neck as if it were a lifeline. Images of the tags flashed through your mind and you knew that he had to touch them, you didn’t know how you knew that but you trusted your instincts. You tightened your hold on his mind, forcing your control onto him in a way you had never done on purpose before.

“You can do it, Bucky.” You said as you pushed your will into him, sharing your strength and determination to feel the tags in his fingers.

His muscles bulged beneath the rich blue jacket he wore and his hand inched closer to his neck the ghost of your hand helping him under he reached the metal that should have been icy cold but was warm. A metaphysical explosion equavilent to an atomic bomb detonated between you and your were slammed with his memories while he was assaulted with yours.

It wasn’t until you fell back onto the mat in the training room, sobs wracking your chest that you remembered your dreams, dreams you had seen buried deep in Bucky’s memories. Those weren’t what left your chest aching though, the pain came from the memories of his time with Hydra, losing his sense of self while he was used against his will - used as a weapon. The pain he lived with everyday would have left anyone else incapable of even getting out of bed but he still rose each day and fought through.

Hands pulled you off the mat and you felt a heart beating fast and strong against your head as it rested on Bucky’s chest. His cheek pressed to the top of your head and you felt his hot tear in your hair as he murmured something you couldn’t make out with the blood rushing through your ears. You blinked at the tears and focused on what he was saying, calming down as his deep voice repeated over and over.

“It’s not your pain, doll, break away from it. You don’t need to feel this, just let go.” He sounded like he was pleading with you but it wasn’t as simple as cutting the connection once it had been made.

“Can’t.” You whimpered as you buried your face in his neck. “You have to let go of it.”

You felt his body shuddering as his mind's eye remembered the long years he spent in servitude, the innocent lives he had taken without choice. His voice was broken and hoarse when he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t know how to.”

You were so closely connected to him that you didn’t even have to speak but he heard you. “Think of something that grounds you.”

Your eyes were screwed shut, face contorted with pain as you clung to Bucky almost as tightly as he clung to you. Images flashed behind your eyelids like video being fast forwarded; Steve, Wakanda and Sam were the main rotation but then you caught sight of Coney Island and your own face smiling back with an armful of prizes. The images slowed until they settled on the last dream you had shared with him, before his mission called him away.

“I can’t remember the last time I just walked along the beach.” Bucky said as let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer.

The water was lapping your feet with every wave the washed by, the warm Pacific seas filling the air with the fresh scent of salt. The sun was almost kissing the horizon and casting a vibrant red glow across the skies as he stopped to watch the reflection ripple across the waves. You both watched the water, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched over it, stealing tender kisses from your neck as the tide rose higher.

“I can’t remember the last time I could just relax.”

“Now you can, whenever you need.” You said as you turned in his arms and placed your hand over his dog tags. “You picked it up really fast.”

He smiled at the pride in your voice and looked around the beach, watching a wave grow until it was a wall of water only to freeze and just become a wall. You looked around and found yourself in a familiar room, it was yours only the colour and decor was different, this was much more masculine. Bucky fell back onto his bed and pulled you with him, rolling until he pinned you beneath him and he could capture your lips. His chest rumbled with a satisfied moan as he tasted your sweet kiss and you took control of the dream, your clothes disappearing along with his.

“That saves time.” He chuckled as he began to kiss his way down your body. “Gives me even more time to spend here.”

You laugh caught in your throat as his lips teased your thighs, you were always amazed by his patience but he enjoyed having you squirming and begging for him before he gave you the release you needed. A soft sigh escaped as his thumbs parted your pussy lips and his tongue swept through them to taste your essence, his own appreciative sound echoing yours.

“You taste so fucking delicious, doll.” He paused only long enough to praise you before burying his face back between your legs.

He had no regard to his own pleasure, he was intent on ensuring yours and he never disappointed. Your legs were trembling and you were lightheaded from the gasping breaths as you orgasmed but still he wasn’t finished with you as he climbed up your body and hooked your quaking leg over his hip.

“Look at me, gorgeous, I wanna see those beautiful eyes when I fill you up.”

You snapped your eyes open and fought not to let them flutter shut in ecstasy as his cock pressed against your entrance. Your fingers laced through his hair and your back arched, your breasts swelling with every breath as he inched his way inside you.

“I love you.” He whispered as his hips met yours and he took a moment to just feel your body warm against his.

“I love you too.”

His ragged breathing changed and he tried to pull away from you, a swell of embarrassment filling his chest as he remembered your face in all his dreams, the love and the comfort from his guardian angel. He thought you had just seen his wet dreams with your face and he was like a caged beast looking for an exit but you needed to explain the reality. You tightened the grip you had around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist so he would have to pry you off if he wanted to leave without you.

“Bucky, calm down.” You said as you laced your words with some feelings of relaxation and felt him stop trying to unclench your hands. “It’s not what you think. We shared those dreams.”

His eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “What do you mean shared?”

“We were both there, we both experienced it, we both lived those moments.” You admitted, hoping he wouldn’t regret it. “I don’t know why it happened, I think it was your panic that pulled me to you when you had a nightmare.”

You waited for him to blow up, accuse you of forcing your way into his mind and you could already feel the tears burning your eyes at the condemnation that was sure to come. You couldn’t even look at him and began to climb off his lap so he could leave but this time he caught you, his arms linking behind your back. You looked at him with wide eyes, feeling your body ignite as you felt his erection growing beneath you.

“You saved me.” His voice was full of wonder as he held your eyes captive with his bright blue ones. “Over and over, doll, every night.”

“You don’t hate me?” You asked quietly.

“How could I hate you?” His lips twitched in amusement and he shook his head before leaning closer and brushing his lips gently across yours, almost testing to see if the same feeling was there. “I love you.”

An hour ago you would have thought him crazy if Bucky had said those words but the nights you had spent together in his dreams were suddenly real and despite only a month passing in reality, time was vastly different in dreams. A second could be an hour, a day could be a month. That time together was real to you both, time spent learning everything about each other and time spent falling deeper in love.

“I love you too.”

The door to the gym shut loudly as Sam stood blinking at the sight before him. “Woah, what the hell just happened?”

You were still sitting on Bucky’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist, and if it wasn’t for the clothes it would have been a very intimate moment, more than it already was. Looking over your shoulder to Sam you just shrugged. “It’s a long story but, um, how long would you say we have been together?”

Bucky thought for a moment as he calculated it before smirking proudly. “It will be 3 years next month.”

You smiled up at him, lost in his eyes as Sam barked a laugh. “I leave you for an hour and you lose your damn minds. No, seriously, what’s happening here?”

“Metaphysics. It’s best not to ask questions.” You said with a wry smile before climbing off Bucky’s lap and trying to act composed as you wanted to do nothing more than stay where you were and tear his clothes off. “I’m just going to head to the shower room.”

Bucky rose from the ground and looked ready to tear Sam to shreds for the interruption but he saw you stop at the exit and turn. “Are you coming or not?”

All thoughts of Sam left his head as he practically ran to catch up, sliding the bolts to the door shut behind him so there would be no interrupting what happened next.

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