#leverage ff

[cosette141]

It's the Thought that Counts (Leverage Fanfic) | Thanksgiving Story

Fandom: Leverage Author: cosette141 Words: 1631

Summary: When Eliot gets hurt and can't cook Thanksgiving dinner, the team gives cooking a try. It's the thought that counts, right? Happy Thanksgiving!

AO3

a/n: takes place during OG Leverage season 3

(story under the cut!)

Everyone stood in Nate's kitchen, looking toward a prone Eliot on Nate's couch.

It was Thanksgiving Day.

The plan had been simple: finish up the job they were working on in the morning, then reconvene at Nate's apartment where Eliot would cook them Thanksgiving dinner, as he'd been doing the past two years.

But… as usual, things didn't quite go as planned.

The con was completed successfully, but not without a hiccup; Eliot had gotten into a fight with a very well-trained security guard, who ended up pushing Eliot down a flight of stairs.

The stairs ended up causing Eliot a concussion and dislocated shoulder, which was set back into place that morning and now resided in a sling over his chest.

Just a handful of minutes ago they got home and Eliot had passed out on the couch.

Looking away from the hitter, the rest of the team looked back at each other.

It was Parker who broke the silence. "We should make dinner."

Three shocked eyes turn to her. "Uh," said Hardison. "What?"

"We should make dinner," repeated Parker simply. "Eliot can't cook with one arm." A blink. "We should make dinner."

"Parker," began Nate.

"One of us has to know how to cook," said Parker with a scrunched nose.

All heads turn toward Sophie.

Her brows shot up. "Me?" When they only kept staring, she leveled them with an annoyed glare. "What? Just because I'm a woman, you think I know how to cook a meal like that?"

From their stares, yes they did.

"Well, I don't," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "I grew up with people who cooked for us, and grifted everyone else in my life into either cooking or buying me a meal. I don't cook."

Parker deflated a little.

"What about you?" asked Hardison to Nate. "You weren't really a stay-at-home dad," at the worddadNate shifted a little, and the three of them tried not to notice. Gently, Hardison tried, "Did you pick anything up from Maggie?"

Nate laughed a little. "Maggie? No. She wasn't much of a cook herself. I mean, I can make grilled cheese and French toast like no tomorrow.. those were Sam's favorites." His eyes clouded a little and the others fidgeted where they stood. Nate shook it away. "But, ah… no. You put a turkey in front of me, I don't know what I'd do with it."

"We could order a thanksgiving meal from a restaurant," said Hardison, reaching for his phone.

"No!" said Parker firmly. Hardison stopped. "Eliot says that's not Thanksgiving. He told me Thanksgiving is about showing your appreciation for people through food." She leveled a strong gaze with the hacker. "Not restaurants."

The four of them stood for a moment, letting the fact that Eliot Spencer appreciates them sink in until Hardison pulled out his phone. He typed a little on it and said, "Ya know what? It's fine. None of us can cook. But here…" He flipped around his phone to show a screen of a YouTube video titled: Thanksgiving Dinner For Dummies. He grinned. "And this is why this is the age of the geek, baby."

Eliot's head pounded.

At first, he thought it was the remnants of his concussion headache. He knew it wasn't a bad concussion, only minor, but this didn't feel like that kind of a headache. This felt like—

"Aw, crap, what'd I just do—"

Yup, that was it.

A Hardison headache.

The hacker's voice floated in, along with the clatter of something to a counter. More sounds mixed in, actually—an electric mixer itself—crinkling bags and boxes, beeps and creaks of un-oiled hinges, and the cross of chatter—no, make that bickering—between Hardison and Sophie.

But as bad as the voices were for his headache, it was nothing compared to the smell.

Something was burning. Actually, several things, by how pungent it was. There was the distinct smell of burning plastic in there as well, among burning of meat, potatoes—a horrible burning smell—and cranberries.

Eliot finally wrenched open his eyes, finding himself staring at the back of Nate's couch.

His eyes stung a little and he coughed, both from the waft of smoke coming from the kitchen and the distinct cutting-onions thing going on in the air.

Not able to take any of it any longer, he levered himself up on the arm he could move and propped himself up on it, looking over the back of the couch.

Eliot Spencer has seen many terrifying, horrendous things in his life.

But nothing was quite as bad as the scene before him.

Nate's kitchen was a mess.

Pots and pans littered every counter, some overturned, and for whatever reason, one's contents were lightly on fire.

The stove was covered with pans and the oven was open, and both Sophie and Hardison were leaning over it. A thin trail of gray smoke trailed into their faces and they were arguing about something.

Parker was stirring something in a pot with the mixer, so close to the metal of it that it made a loud clanging sound that made Eliot wince for both his ears and for the safety of Nate's nonstick pan, especially when Parker looked toward Hardison and Sophie and said, "I think the mashed potatoes are done! They're finally blue."

And over at his dining room table, Nate was sitting in a chair, a drink in one hand and using the other to rub at his temples.

Eliot blinked.

"What the hell is goin' on?" demanded Eliot, loud enough to be heard over the mixer and Hardison and Sophie's bickering.

The noise silenced and each head looked over toward him.

Parker was the only one whose face lit up. "Eliot!" She put down the pan and skipped over to him. "We're making Thanksgiving dinner!"

Eliot blinked.

He slowly took in the mess of Nate's kitchen, and could pull out faint scents (minus the scorching) of traditional thanksgiving dishes. Even Nate's dining room table was all set up with five plates, napkins and silverware. The oven door closed and Eliot looked back over to see Hardison and Sophie handling a very-black turkey on a cookie sheet.

Two sheepish grins, one amused grin, and one bright and proud grin were shot his way.

Eliot worked to find his voice. "You guys…cooked?"

"Well," said Hardison, as he and Sophie put the "turkey" down on the counter. "With your arm all messed up it woulda been really hard for you to cook for us this year. And you were really tired and we didn't wanna wake you…"

Parker smiled wide. "And you deserve it!"

Not in any of the years since he's left home has someone cooked him a meal. Well, outside of the sludge they served in the prisons and dungeons from his darker days. Even on dates,hewas the one who cooked, and those relationships never lasted long to begin with. But Thanksgiving dinner? Meeting the team had been the first time he's ever cooked one, using the old recipes he learned from watching his mama as a kid.

After meeting the team, he'd cooked for them because they needed someone to feed them something better than the crap they ate. And he'd been heartbroken to hear that Parker had never celebrated Thanksgiving, Hardison and Sophie hadn't since they'd left home as kids, and that Nate hadn't since his son died.

So when he got hurt, he was more upset about not being able to cook than any of the physical pain. But this was something that happened once a year, and it was one of the only traditions he really cared about.

Seeing the four of them, surrounded by—what would probably be a very inedible—dinner, that they made forhim… was something that really warmed his heart.

It may have simply been the onions or the smoke still lingering in the air, but Eliot felt his eyes burn the smallest bit with tears.

"Dinner's almost ready!" said Parker brightly. "I made your favorite dessert too!" She picked up a dish that looked like a pile of tan goo. It took all of Eliot's self-control not to react badly.

"Uh," he swallowed. "What...what is it?"

Parker looked at him weird. "Duh! It's apple pie." As Eliot tried to hide the shock from his face, she looked back down at the… "pie."

"Oh!" she said, laughing. "It'll probably look more like a pie after it's done boiling."

He was thankful she turned her back then because he wasn't quite sure he could hide the utter horror from his face.

Though, Nate caught it, and Eliot watched his lips twitch into an amused grin.

"How the hell…"

Eliot looked over to see Hardison stabbing a knife into the center of the turkey, and it getting stuck. He tried yanking it out.

"Hardison!" yelled Eliot. "What the hell are you doing?"

Hardison looked up. "What? I'm carving the turkey."

"That's not—" Eliot shut his eyes. He got himself off the couch, making his way over to Hardison. "Who taught you how to hold a knife? What are you—give me that!"

"No, man—you only have one arm! I got it!"

"My one arm is more capable of doing this than both of yours now give me the knife!"

"No!"

Nate watched from his seat at the table. A normal man might worry at watching the two boys wrestle over a rather large knife, but he wasn't a normal man. And this wasn't a normal family.

But it was a family.

His family.

And for that, even as he later had to actually eat the questionable dinner his family made…

He couldn't have been more thankful to have them.

#leverage #leverage fic #leverage fanfic #leverage eliot #leverage fanfiction #leverage team #fanfiction #fanfic #thanksgiving #thanksgiving fanfic #thanksgiving fanfiction #ff #leverage ff #eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #nate ford #nathan ford #sophie deveraux

[thisismeracing]

Lay all your love on me | DR3 (patreon exclusive)

read the full piece here

― Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader ― Warning: graphic description of unprotected sex, p in v, thigh riding, kind of public sex (boat sex), mentions of a wedding, food, and drink. Minors DNI! (2.1k words) ― Summary: When Daniel asked you to marry him you knew your wedding would be perfect, you just didn’t expect your fiancée to rent a whole island a week before the wedding to enjoy the off days with you until you finally tied the knot. Safe to say you made good use of all the private land and boat rides.

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“Where are you going?”

“Just for a dip,” you breathe, craning your neck to kiss his stubbled jaw.

“You’re not dressed for a swim, love,” Daniel murmurs against your skin, trapping your earlobe between his teeth and sucking lightly.

You press yourself harder against him, enjoying the feeling of his body against yours, his warmth even more intense under the scalding sun. “Who said one has to be dressed for a swim?” you question, and he turns his mouth to your shoulders, kissing away the straps of your nightgown. “You rented the whole beach, the whole Island,” you add. “So I’m enjoying its perks.”

“Are you?”

You nod, turning to him and smashing your lips into a hungry kiss. One of his hands holds your neck while the other keeps your body pressed to his, but not for long because the second your lips detach you’re taking a step back and pushing your clothes off. It’s hot, even though the wind is rustling, but your body shivers under the exposure from his eyes and the breeze. Your nipples turn to two pointer pebbles attracting your fiancé’s hungry gaze, and you giggle again, loving the comfort of feeling loved and desired under his gaze. There was no shame in showing the dips and curves of your body to him. A body he had worshiped just hours before in the privacy of your suite.

“Why would you tease me like that?”

“Because I can,” you smirk, turning and running to the water, shrinking when the cold waves hit your body.

*********

“The sunscreen,” you try, but Daniel shakes his head, throwing the bottle somewhere into the boat.

“Later,” he hums, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

When his fingers swiftly find the strings of your bikini, undoing the knot and setting your boobs free, you can’t help but grind harder against his shaft. Daniel moves your body in a way that you’re on top of his tattooed thigh and you quickly take off your bikini bottoms, bunching up his white shorts and whimpering the second he flexes his legs and it hits you right in the clit.

He sits, bringing your body impossibly closer and you lace your arms around his broad shoulders, trying to gain leverage in your movements. Daniel uses his mouth to lick, bite, kiss, and nip your skin. It doesn’t take long for his tongue to find your nipples and you sink your nails into his back, throwing your head and letting out a string of profanities.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this sneak peek! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon here on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)

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taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @bbreezybitch @graciewrote @leclercsluv @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a

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#dr3 #millie writes smut #op: patreon preview #op: patreon exclusive #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 fandom #daniel ricciardo one shot #formula one fanfic #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x you

[idkbutimgabby]

Brown Eyes Can Tell - A Seo Changbin 18+ ff

a part two of @roseykat's amazing fic 'Brown Eyes Don't Pry', which left off on such a good little cliffhanger that it inspired me to write this part two (I literally HAD to, it was that good) - PLEASE GO CHECK OUT HER STUFF, I BEG OF YOU!!! And big, BIG, HUGE thank you to @roseykat for letting me write this continuation of her fic and her idea, and being so nice about it!!! I was definitely scared she was going to say sorry but big no, but she was so polite and nice and I just want to thank her for being so accommodating to her readers and fellow authors. So, again, PLEASE check out her stuff, and HUGEEE thanks to @roseykat for letting me post this! Hope it reaches standards lol 🤞🤞

word count:

-2.2k (not including my nervous rambling 😍)

trope:

-friends to friends with benefits (?) roommates to something more (?😭)

-friend/roommate!Changbin x fem!reader

warnings: smut (that's basically the whole thing lmao); spit kink (guilty pleasure, what can I say), unprotected sex (don't be stupid) messy sex, size kink (?) eating out, cumplay, mentions of masturbation, porn, fingering, squirting, degradation, cursing, perverted characters (all consensual)

This includes a lot of smut, so please if you're a minor, DO NOT INTERACT!!! please and thank you 🙏💕💕

Seo Changbin, your friend and roommate, stood in front of you, fingers still pressing gently into you jaw, tilting you head sideways. He was observing you, you could tell. What he was thinking, you had no idea. But the way he was talking to you was starting to annoy you. They way he spoke, so condescending and almost as if he was embarrassed.

You scoff, the blush remaining across your face as you begin to get upset.

"Why were you watching me anyway? What, you said yourself you finished watching me get off. How long were you standing there, watching me like a fucking pervert?" You say, voice coming back to you as you shove his hand away from your face.

He's the one scoffing now, seemingly interested in the way you retaliated.

"Oh, so you're putting shit on me now, huh? As if you weren't the one just getting yourself off on your desk, for fucks sake? No, let's not pretend you weren't waiting for one of us to get home and see you getting off, waiting for one of us to fuck you, like a damn whore." He says, voice darkening, along with those deep brown eyes.

You can't deny you were surprised. You had never heard him speak like this before to anyone, let alone to you. You just roll your eyes, flicking them down for a split second.

"Looks like you'd love to fuck me right about now, judging by that massive situation you've got going on down there." You smirk, matching his condescending tone, pointedly tilting your head downwards.

He falters for a split second, knowing he can't actually deny that. He can't deny that seeing you like that was hot. Very hot. Begging to cum, even though no one was there to hear you. Well, that's what you had thought at the time.

"So what? You try not getting... excited... at someone getting off." He says, trying to defend himself. But, he notices you quickly glancing at your phone. He's confused for a second, but then remembers the video you were watching. Some woman getting pounded into the mattress by some strong, muscly guy. A smirk makes its way across his face, realizing the leverage he regained.

"You do..." He says delightedly, noticing the blush burning across your face once again.

"Do what?" You snap, playing dumb as you shove your phone away from you, scrambling to grab your clothes from your bed.

"Get off to people getting off." Changbin says, giggling hysterically at his own little joke. If you can even call it that. Sure, it's amusing to him, but he can't excuse the fact that there must be some kind of meaning to it. There's something there, he can feel it.

"What, it turns you on or something?" He tries, deciding to just poke around in the dark until he finds what he's looking for.

You shake your head, still fiddling with anything you can find to keep your hands from shaking. He's acting casual, but obviously it's still embarrassing. A lot.

"It's just background noise for when you get yourself off?" He tries again, hopeful.

You shake your head again, shooting him a sharp look.

"You wish it was you?"

Silence. You freeze up, avoiding his eyes, fighting to keep your embarrassment at bay.

Bingo, Changbin thinks, a smirk once again appearing on that smug face, expression darkening with amusement and... yeah, he's horny. How could he not be?

"So... I was right. You do wish that someone will get home, hear your pitiful little whimpers, come in, and start railing you. Isn't that right? I know it is."

You look up at him, brows furrowing in embarrassment and anger, apprehension and... hopefulness. Yes, even though this whole thing has just been massively embarrassing, a part of you still hopes that maybe he'll give you what you want. What you've been craving for so incredibly long now, deprived of touch, of pleasure.

He grins, staring right back at you, thinking about his next move. He decides to just go for it. Felix said he wouldn't be back for a few more hours at least... fuck it. Changbin wants to fuck you, and he wants you to want him to fuck you. Which shouldn't be a problem, judging by how fucking needy and desperate you look right now.

He steps closer to you, grabbing your chin again, tilting it up to meet your eyes. Both of you are holding your breaths, staring into one another's deep brown eyes. Both sets of eyes are sparkly, each pair holding the same emotions. Want, need, even.

"Can I...?"

His voice is in your ear, softer than you had expected, especially considering the situation. But you nod, desperately wanting him to do everything and anything to you.

"Please?" You whisper back, matching his softness. Changbin grins, then grabs your waist and gently pulls you flush to his own body. He stares into your eyes, both pairs now darkening with insatiable need. Need for each other, to feel the other in ways they've only ever dreamed of...

And before you can process all the emotions you're feeling, his lips are on yours. It's soft, sweet, gentle at first. But then his tongue swipes swiftly across your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, lips parting to let him in. You inhale sharply, making him pull away the tiniest bit.

"You okay? Can I keep going?"

You nod immediately, pulling him back to you abruptly. He grins into the kiss, hands starting to roam down, further and further...

He reaches down, fingers hooking into your waistband. Hell, if you had known he was going to help you out, you would never have hastily thrown your clothes back on. He gently slides your sweats and underwear down, leaving you in only your oversized t-shirt.

And God, do you look good in it. He wants to take you right then and there, bend you over and pound into you until you can't even think. But, he'll be patient for now. Well, as much as he can be, anyway. His tongue swirls in your mouth, you just take everything you can get from him. He cups your face with one hand, pulling away suddenly.

He squeezes your cheeks, pinching with his thumb and fingers, getting you to open your mouth. Eyes flashing, he smirks and lets his spit dribble down into your eager mouth. He lessens the pressure, grinning in delight when you swallow immediately. Your lips connect again, and the kiss gets filthier.

You're both basically drooling all over each other, into each other's mouths, spit trickling down both your necks, stickying up both your collarbones and chests. And you both love it; the sounds, the feeling, the sensations.

Not breaking away, he starts undressing himself, pulling down his sweats, tossing them away. He pulls his shirt over his head as quickly as he can, tossing that away as well.

And damn, is he gorgeous. He tries to resume the kiss, but your hands fly to his chest, keeping him slightly away from you.

"Um, wow." You say, suddenly.

He smirks lopsidedly, proud but slightly embarrassed. He grabs your hands and pulls you to him again, bare skin against bare skin, lips and tongues clashing again. He walks you back until your knees buckle against the bed, climbing on top of you and starting to plant kisses on your inner thighs, tongue flicking out every now and then.

Your head flies back as he gets closer to where you need him, where your cunt is dripping. Your previous orgasm had already made you slick, but now you were even wetter, your arousal increasing the more Changbin had teased you. He finally reaches your pussy, tongue flicking out as he eats you out. His pace was slow at first, patient, as if he was savoring every bit, every taste. But soon, he picked up the pace, movements quickening as if he was starving.

Your head was tilted, face halfway turned into the pillows in pleasure, as you felt him insert two fingers. You let out a quiet moan, feeling yourself about to cum all over his face and fingers. He felt it too, the sudden clench of your cunt, as he worked his fingers inside of you, while still flicking his tongue over your clit.

"Bin... m'bout to cum.." You say, voice slightly muffled by the pillows. You feel him nod, tongue increasing its pace over your puffy clit, earning a small gasp from you. His fingers curled into you, pressing over that spot inside you, causing you to snap.

You came all over him, squirting over him and covering his chest and collar and face in your arousal. Panting, you turned your head to him, eyes half closed as you came down from your release.

You saw him grinning at you, as he sat up from between your slightly shaky legs. His face and the top part of his body was shiny and wet, coated by your release.

"Well that was hot." He says, smiling, licking his lips and fingers. Smirking at him, you motion to his cock, signaling to him that you're ready to take him. He's pretty dang big, too... about average length, thick as fuck. But, you're pretty sure you can take him.

He sends you another look, making sure you're comfortable with proceeding. Nodding eagerly, you pull his arm, tugging him closer to you and licking right into his mouth. He kisses you back, starting to slide inside you at the same time. He is thick, and you definitely feel the stretch. But it's insane how much more it turns you on, feeling your own cunt stretching around his dick, sucking him in like he belonged inside you.

Tongues still fighting each other, he slips inside you little by little, stretching you out until he bottoms, hips pressed against each other. He swallows all your little moans, returning with his own small grunts as he pushes inside you.

Fully bottomed out, you pant into each other's mouths, while he gives you time to get used to the stretch. Nodding at him, he begins moving, gently at first, but soon speeding up, just like he did when he was going down on you. His pace quickens, and you reach the brink of orgasm, legs shaking...

But then he pulls out, grinning down at you before kissing your poured lips, flipping you over onto your belly. He spreads your legs out, giving him easier access to slide in again.

The new angle brings you to the edge quickly, and he quickens his thrusts into you, hitting your spot over and over. You're drooling into the pillows, and he gently threads his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back. He uses his thumb to wipe the drool from your chin, pushing it back up to your lips, and poking his thumb past them.

Obediently, you suck on his thumb, but soon your jaw falls slack again due to him pounding into you even faster, feeling like he's hitting deeper inside of you with each thrust. He spits into your mouth again, reveling in the way his saliva drips out of your mouth, still opened in pleasure.

He continues drilling into you until you cum over his dick, release spilling out while he slows his thrusts into you. He quickly feels his own release creeping up on him, amplified after seeing your orgasm. He pulls out and flips you over again, wanting to see your face as he cums all over your breasts and tummy.

You're pretty wiped out, but he seems eager to at least clean you up. How nice of him, right?

He sucks and licks all his own cum off your boobs, leaving small love bites in the valley of your breasts, and all down your stomach. He continues further down, until he reaches your pussy, slick and shiny with your own release. He starts cleaning you up, lapping at you casually, licking up your release, savoring the taste on his tongue again.

He sits back when he's had his fill, then carefully climbs over you and lays on the bed next to you, arms carelessly flung around your waist, hugging you gently.

It's a nice moment, you have to admit. At least, it is until you both hear the front door unlocking, meaning Felix is home.

"Shit... um, okay, you go hop in the shower, I'll clean up here." Changbin says hurriedly, climbing out of your bed and offering a hand to you, gently pulling you out of bed. He helps you hobble to the bathroom, even getting you a fresh towel before closing the door. He pulls on his boxers and sweatpants before going to greet Felix at the door.

But the whole night, he can't help but think about you. Just you, and how much he enjoyed railing the shit out of you. That image of you, fucked out, with drool all over your lips and chin, eyes half closed, lost in pleasure. the pleasure that HE gave to you, made you feel.

And how much he wants to do it again.

It's over! Ooooh cliffhanger, am I right? I guess I'll leave the rest up to you, and if anyone wants to make a part three, I would actually be super interested in reading it 😭And this is my first fic, so I'm kinda nervous lmao 😭 Hope you liked it, and again, please go check out @roseykat and boost her work, it's so good!! Thank you for reading, and I may or may not have a few more ideas and works in progress, so watch this become a writing blog 😨😍 Not super serious, but I'm definitely looking to post a few more fics of my own, so I guess look forward to those? THANK YOU GUYS 🙏💕💕

written from:

#Spotify #seo changbin #stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut #seo changbin smut #roseykat #first fic lmao please leave some feedback #any responses will be highly appreciated #THANK YOU 💕💕 #changbin smut

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 5461

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

8. Banana-Dulce Cheesecake

Bucky

It occurs to him to tell Steve about the kiss later that night, when Steve is three fingers deep in him and Bucky wants some leverage to make him get in him already. He’s told him four damn times already to move things along.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, making an effort to control his voice so that Steve doesn’t know just how well he’s getting at his prostate like this. “If you don’t listen to me and get your dick in me in the next fifteen seconds, I’m tying you up and riding the dildo while you watch.”

Steve’s rhythm falters and his eyes widen, because he knows his husband and he knows it’s no idle threat. Sexual denial is one of Bucky’s favorite cruelties. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Okay, okay.” His fingers leave a sad absence inside of Bucky, but he gets right to work in reaching for the lube bottle to slick himself up.

“Aht, forgetting something?” Bucky raises his eyebrow and watches Steve huff in exasperation as he stretches across the bed to reach for their beside drawer. Bucky takes the opportunity to smack his ass, enjoying the slight jiggle and the clenching muscle. “Good boy,” he purrs, as Steve comes back with a condom in hand. 

Even when he’s fucking Bucky, Steve isn’t allowed to come inside of him. Only Bucky gets the privilege of leaving a load up inside his husband's ass, a possessive reminder left behind to slide out, slow and filthy. He watches Steve roll the latex down his dick and then give himself a few indulgent pulls with the lube. He's red and throbbing, and Bucky can tell by the way he keeps sucking his bottom lip back into his mouth that he’s feeling very sensitive. “That feel good, Honey?”

“Nngh.”

“That’s enough. C’mere.” He hooks his heels in behind Steve’s ass to urge him forward. Steve drops his dick and climbs over him, settling into the spread of his legs and reaching down to line himself up. Bucky feels the wet drag of his cockhead over his hole.

Obedient boy, he thinks with a smirk. But it slips off his face when Steve starts to push in. He inhales sharply through his nose and closes his eyes as he focuses on letting Steve in. “Ungh,” he grunts quietly, brow furrowed at the stretch.

“You okay?” Steve’s hovering, not pushing any further. Waiting for permission.

Bucky swallows and nods, because he is okay, but goddamn. Sometimes he forgets just how big his Stevie really is. (No better reminder than to have it shoved up his ass.) “Yeah,” he pants, sliding his hands up the backs of Steve’s arms and feeling up the tension in his triceps—he’s straining so beautifully, trying so very hard to hold still for him. It makes Bucky melt when he opens his eyes again and gets a look at the beautifully pinched expression on Steve’s face.

Oh, his golden boy.

“C’mere, you,” he husks, pulling him down by the jaw for a kiss. It forces Steve’s cock a little bit further into him, and he groans at the stretch. “Ff-uck, uhn, Ssteve.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

He shoves his tongue into Steve’s mouth like it’s payback for the way he’s invading his body right now, the lewd, wet swipe of his tongue a counterpoint to Steve’s dick. Bucky just wants to get inside his man, any way he can. Steve makes a filthy, tortured noise when their tongues roll together, and Bucky relishes it. He growls and drives their mouths together again and again, making it sloppy, taking Steve’s breath away, tongue-fucking his mouth before he gets any real chance to start fucking him.

“Buck,” Steve breathes, the word wet on his lips as he holds himself still. He’s looking so pleadingly at Bucky, near-pained self restraint and begging eyes that make Bucky want to destroy him. “Please. I gotta. Gotta move.”

Bucky feels that ever-familiar dark thrill zip through him. “Yeah?” he asks, mock sympathy lacing his tone. He strokes Steve’s hair. “Is that what you want, big guy? You wanna bury that fat cock up in me? Wanna go to town?” Steve nods, of course he does, and Bucky forces one more harsh, unyielding kiss onto him before he pulls back and relents. “Okay Baby, push it in a little. Go slow. Make yourself feel good.”

Steve sags with relief, instantly sinking deeper into Bucky’s body. He goes slow like he’s been told, easing in each of the seven plus girthy inches he has to give, and since Bucky’s just put up with God knows how much time and lube and fingers softening him up for this, it doesn’t hurt.

It’s just so fucking much.

Steve waits once he’s settled all the way inside, because he knows he needs permission to start thrusting. Bucky strokes a tender thumb just under his eye, taking the time to soak up his expression, his pretty features when he’s feeling good like this. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, y’know that?”

Steve grins shakily and knocks their foreheads together. “That why you married me?”

“Mmm. Had to do somethin’. Couldn’t let somebody else get at you.” Bucky grinds up, feeling Steve’s hot length rub inside him, so big. “Oh, Honey.”

“Fuck,” Steve says tersely. “Fuck, Bucky please. Say I can. C’mon Baby.”

Bucky nods, and that’s all the permission Steve needs. He starts moving, thrusting into Bucky with short, deep rolls of his hips. Steve’s a goddamn savant when it comes to getting at Bucky’s sweet spot with his dick, and now’s no exception. Bucky hisses as sparks fly up his spine, his balls pressed deliciously by Steve’s pubic bone every time he rocks in deep. It’s so damn good. “S-sumthin happened today,” he says, stuttering over his words in a way he almost never does.

“Mm.” Steve starts necking at him, humming in acknowledgement. “What?”

“With Mary,” Bucky grunts. “I—nnh—I kissed her.”

Against his neck, Steve makes this tiny, appreciative sound that just about makes Bucky's blood boil. His hips jolt down in an uncontrolled thrust. “Yeah? She liked it?”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes, a dirty thrill shooting through him at this: at talking about someone else while Steve fucks him. Talking about her. “Yeah she did. She felt so good, Stevie. Felt so nice in my arms.” 

Steve groans again. "Tell me."

“Wanted more, God, I wanted to squeeze her, y’know? Trap her. Right up between me and you.”

“Fuck, Bucky. Uhn.”

“Yeah.” They’re grinding filthily now, all firm and deep, skin slapping quietly, Bucky’s legs wrapped up around Steve’s waist to draw him in hard again and again. “I wanna do something about it,” he pants. “Want to have her.”

Steve moans and nods, his face pinking from the effort, from the thought of the three of them together. This, the idea of the two of them in a three-way relationship with a woman, used to be one of their biggest fantasies that they’d talk about. “Can we?” he asks, looking to Bucky for permission. Always to Bucky. It gets him hotter than anything, so in love with his man.

“Yeah,” he says, reaching down to grab handfuls of Steve’s flexing ass, urging him on. “Yeah we can. We’ll take her apart. Fuck her so good.”

“Oh, God. How?” Steve’s back to kissing on his neck while he grinds into him, dirty pants against sucked-wet skin going straight to Bucky’s dick. “Tell me.”

“Mm, I dunno. Maybe you can hold her, huh? Hold her open while I go down on her. Or maybe we’ll—ugh, shit—maybe we’ll both have her at the same time, yeah? You behind her and me in front, taking turns dipping our cocks in her ‘til she screams.” 

Steve groans, his hips slowing and his head sinking over Bucky’s shoulder—He’s close and doesn’t want to come.

Bucky bites sharply at his neck. “Did I say you could stop? Keep fucking me.”

Steve, trooper that he is, whimpers and gets back to it. Bucky grits his teeth, angling his hips into the thrusts just right so that his prostate is getting it good. “Aw, fuckyeah. Like that, Honey, juust like that. Shit. You’re gonna make Daddy cum, y’know that?”

Steve whines, his hips stuttering at the words. Bucky rarely calls himself “Daddy” when they’re together, it’s usually something he only utters when he’s domming a sub. But with Steve topping like this, Bucky needs the extra dominance. The growled words get to Steve too though, and he starts to come, shoving harder and uncoordinated. “Ohn ... shit,” he whimpers, the high pitched, desperate sound of it making Bucky’s cock pulse dangerously.

He growls and smashes their mouths together, shoves his flesh hand down between their bellies and grabs himself, starts stroking off hard and fast as he feels Steve’s jerky final thrusts. They finish seconds apart, with Steve still grinding his orgasm out as Bucky’s cock starts shooting up his belly and over his knuckles. “Uh, ughn, godyeah …”

They slump against each other with exhaustion once it’s done, panting against skin and reveling in the aftershocks. Steve eventually takes the initiative to pull out, getting rid of the condom and snuggling back up against Bucky’s side. Bucky hums and wraps his arm around him, pressing a kiss to the edge of his temple. “S’good,” he mumbles, letting Steve pull the blanket up to cover their legs, even though they haven’t even wiped off yet. It feels too good to move right now.

“So,” Steve says a few minutes later, his voice softened and lax from the afterglow. He’s got his head pillowed on Bucky’s chest, and Bucky begins to play idly with his hair. “The Mary thing.”

Bucky inhales deeply, his chest rising and falling underneath Steve’s cheek. “Yeah. The Mary thing.”

“What’s the plan?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time, picturing various scenarios in his sated brain. “Hell if I know.”

Bucky

Steve’s already back from his ass-o’clock morning jog and putzing around the kitchen by the time Bucky has finished dressing for work and emerges from the bedroom. He hears (and smells) the coffee pot percolating, and sighs gratefully as he walks into the kitchen to join him. “Mornin’ babe. Thanks. for getting that started.”

Steve gives him a cheerful peck on the lips as he passes to open one of the upper cabinets. “There’s a piece of cheesecake in the fridge for you,” he says. 

“Cheesecake?” Bucky’s slightly distracted by the shape of Steve’s muscular back through his tight Under Armour top as he stretches to reach his preferred to-go mug. “For breakfast?”

“I may have mentioned that it’s your favorite dessert of all time.” Steve shoots him a knowing smile when he turns back around. "Enjoy the view?"

"You know it," Bucky says, shameless. "I'll have to have a talk with her about making cheesecake. The first step is admitting you have a problem, and I have a problem."

Steve snickers and goes to grab the coffee pot and fill the mug. “At least take it to work with you for lunch. She’ll be bummed if you don’t.”

“Sure.” In the fridge, Bucky discovers a clear plastic clamshell box with a single slice of cheesecake inside. Previously unaware of any hunger, his stomach suddenly turns over in a growling vote of confidence for the cheesecake. “Damn,” he mutters, reaching in and pulling the clamshell out. “So that’s what the banana threats were for.”

“Yep.” Steve chuckles. “I already had a piece. And Buck:” He turns around and looks at him with theatrically wide eyes. “It’s really good.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.” Bucky checks the time on his phone, decides that he has enough time to sit down and eat it there before he leaves for work. He goes to grab a fork from the silverware drawer. Seated on the stool at the breakfast bar, his eyes slide shut as the first bite of dense, creamy goodness slides over his tongue. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” he moans. “Caramel.”

“I know, right?”

He opens his eyes again and gives Steve a withering look. “We’ve gotta set some boundaries for ourselves. Or she’ll have us rocking dad bods in no time.”

Mary’s laugh sounds from the hallway just before she appears, dressed in sneakers and workout clothes. “With the way you two work out? Yeah right.” She shoots a cheerful finger gun in Bucky’s direction. “And it’s dulce, not caramel.”

“Oh. Well I stand corrected, then.”

“Basically the same thing as American-style caramel.” She makes a face. “Which hardy counts at all. Just wait until I make you a real caramel. Where the sugar’s actually cooked dark enough to taste.” She nods with an adorable amount of conviction. “Your mouth’ll know the difference.”

“I’m sure it will,” Bucky drawls, looking her over with the same sort of appreciation that he’d just done with Steve. Mary wears leggings on a regular basis, which is always very enticing, but her gym leggings are even tighter, and it’s a total cocktease. Bucky waits until she has her back turned before he lets his gaze drop to her hips and ass. Jesus, help him. “You going to the gym?” he asks, knowing that it’s her day off.

“Yeah,” she huffs, going over to grab her jacket from the catchall. “I’ve gained so much weight since Halloween, it’s not even funny. Got about fifteen pounds to work off now. Blegch.”

Bucky actually puts his fork down, he’s so disturbed by the casual way that she throws it out.  “What?” he says, and Steve echoes him with a stifled noise in his throat that basically means the same thing. “Fifteen pounds?” He lets his eyes drag over her body, mouth agape. “Mary, wait.”

“What?” She’s shrugging her jacket on with a humorless laugh. “It’s true.”

“No it is fucking not,” Bucky snaps, and at hearing his tone, she stops laughing. “Mary,” he says sternly. “You do not need to lose any weight. And certainly not fifteen pounds. Jesus. That’s ludicrous.”

She turns around with an incredulous expression. “Seriously? I literally just heard you complaining about dad bods. Have you seen yourself? And you’re gonna talk to me about what’s ludicrous?”

Bucky frowns at how defensive she’s gotten and how fast. “Mare,” he says, trying to soften his tone. “You look great. Now I’m fine with you going to the gym if you want, but let’s not get out of hand, here.” Something about the tense determination in her features sets off alarm bells in his head. “You should wait to go to the gym with Steve when he goes in the afternoon,” he decides, making it an order. “You don’t need to be going by yourself.”

Her entire face screws up. “Excuse you,” she scowls. “I’m not a child. I can go to the freakin’ gym by myself.”

“No,” he says firmly. “I want you to wait.”

For a split second, he sees her expression smooth over at how calmly and firmly he’s said it—her own natural submissive reaction to a direct order from him. But that quickly bleeds back to astonished anger. “Sorry, Daddy, but I’m ready to go now. I already took my pre-sup and I’ll just waste it if I—”

“Pre-sup?” he hisses (forcing himself to ignore the ‘Daddy’ thing—holy shit). “What supplements are you taking?”

“None of your business!” She laughs meanly, and Bucky sees Steve shift out of the corner of his eye at how quickly this is devolving. “Jesus. I’m a grown woman, Bucky.”

“I know that, Mary,” he grits. “Now take your coat off and wait for Steve.”

“No.”

“Have you even had any breakfast?” he growls.

“I don’t like to eat before a workout,” she says, grabbing up her purse from the catchall. 

“Mary,” Steve pleads, looking worriedly at Bucky. “You should have something for fuel. C’mon, let me make you a piece of toast at least.”

She huffs, shouldering her purse and heading for the door. “You guys’ bread has like a hundred and thirty calories a slice. No thanks. I’m fine.” She unlocks the deadbolt and reaches for the doorknob.

Bucky lets loose his full Dom-voice when he warns, “Mary, don’t you open that door.”

Her shoulders visibly tense, as if she’s fighting off the full-body urge to obey him. “I’ll be back in a couple hours,” she says, then pulls open the door and leaves.

Bucky stares, furious. “A couple of hours?!” The barstool’s legs scrape against the floor as he hastily pushes out from the counter, intending to go after her.

“Babe, wait. No.” Steve stops him with both hands on his shoulders. “That’s not a good idea.”

“She just willfully disobeyed me!” Bucky snarls. “I can’t let that go!”

Steve’s fingers curl over his shoulders in a squeeze and he ducks his head to fix him with a meaningful look. “Buck, hey, take a deep breath. You’re not handling this well.” 

The message is clear. This is the way Steve talks to him when he’s trying to calm him down from domspace—and not the good kind of domspace, either. Bucky jerks away from his hold, but Steve arches an eyebrow, and so Bucky takes a few deep inhales and exhales, glaring at his husband the whole time he’s doing it. “She can’t get away with behavior like that,” he reiterates once he’s done. He forces his tone to be more calm so that Steve can’t hold it against him. “That was out of line. She needs to be corrected.”

“I know,” Steve says, still looking at him cautiously. “But we don’t have a discipline plan in place, so what’re you gonna do? Go grab her in public and drag her back here kicking and screaming?” 

Bucky's jaw works in frustration. “No," he grits. "No, that won't work."

“Good. I'm glad you can see that.” Some of the tension releases from Steve’s shoulders, and Bucky instantly feels bad. Poor Steve. He’s already married to one erstwhile/sometimes mental case, and now he’s got another one on the extreme opposite end of the spectrum to deal with.

“Sorry,” Bucky says tightly, turning away in embarrassment. He can still feel the ticking of his pulse in his veins, and the desire to control pulled tight throughout all his muscles. “Sorry,” he says again, going back to sit at the breakfast bar.

“It’s okay, Babe.”

He scoots back in to the counter and grabs his fork, moodily spearing another bite of the cheesecake. His thoughts still linger on the showdown with Mary as he chews, and after he swallows he mutters, “The hell’s gotten into her?” Normally she’ll go soft as a stick of butter the second he starts talking sternly at her, but this time she’d seemed to actually harden against him the more he tried it. 

Steve comes over with the to-go mug, emptying a Splenda packet into it. “You think it has anything to do with you kissing her?” 

Bucky frowns, not having considered that. He shakes his head grumpily. “No. She’s been coming down every night. It doesn’t make any sense for her to be acting like this."

“Okay, but Babe … maybe we should try to get her in to see Linda this week. See if there’s something she needs that we’re not—”

“What she needs is a quick trip over my lap,” he growls, left hand flexing. “She’s bratting.”

“She does like to go to the gym,” Steve hedges, but he shuts up when Bucky shoots him a withering glare. “Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right.”

“Damn right I’m right. Call the Center today. Try and get us in. The sooner the better.”

Steve nods. “And what do you suggest I do about her when she comes back?”

Bucky grunts and eats the last bite of cheesecake n his plate, vaguely aware that he would’ve savored it a lot more if he wasn’t so riled up over Mary’s behavior. “Just leave her alone. You’re right: we don’t have a discipline plan in place.” (Though he plans to correct that very soon.) “We’ll sort it out at this next visit. Linda already said she has strong indications for impact play.”

Steve winces. “Why do they need to put the word ‘play’ after everything?” Bucky shrugs, and Steve looks rueful. “You know she’s gonna throw a fit when you bring it up.”

“I know.” And he really doesn’t care. A dark thrill of dominance zips through Bucky at just the idea of putting Mary over his knee, of trapping her wrists at her lower back and holding her down, giving her a good spanking until she’s crying and grinding and sorry. “She’ll learn real quick that it’s what’s good for her. That girl needs consequences like a fish needs water."

“Uh huh.” Steve seems almost amused, but he holds up his hands again when he gets another glare from Bucky. “I’ll call and make an appointment, I will,” he promises. “But what about you, Babe?”

“What about me?”

Steve gives him a look. “You could stand to go in yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

His eyes slip down to Bucky’s left hand. “Babe ...”

Bucky looks down—Somewhere in the past few minutes, he’s bent the fork in his fist a little bit. Huffing, he sets it down.

“Take the morning off and go get a session in with one of the Pros,” Steve coaxes. “Spare your poor coworkers.”

Bucky scoffs and takes his plate to the sink to rinse it. “No. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh.”

“I am,” he insists, giving Steve a warning look when it seems like he’ll argue further. “Steve,”

“Okay, okay.” Steve holds up his hands in surrender. “Just trying to help.”

Bucky softens, feeling bad. “C’mere, you. Hey, I’m sorry.” He gives Steve a big hug, and then a kiss that’s equal parts possessive and apologetic. They part, and he smiles a little, nudging Steve’s nose with his. “You still having fun in the nuthouse?” he murmurs.

Steve ‘tsks’ at him for the joke and give him a chiding squeeze. “Yes,” he insists. “Now get going, nutso, before you're late. And don’t forget your coffee.”

Bucky gives him one last peck on the lips and then grabs his things. He puts his coat on and drapes his suit jacket over his arm at the door. “Try to keep her here once she’s back,” he says, frowning once again as he thinks about the “hours” remark Mary had made. “Ridiculous,” he mutters. 

“I’ll head over to the gym in a bit. Make sure she isn’t overdoing it,” Steve promises. “Now go on, try to have a good day. Try not to make your secretary cry.”

Bucky huffs, though he is smiling a little as he heads out the door. He’s only ever made his secretary cry once, and Steve will never, ever let him live it down. “Bye Babe. I Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Steve

That evening, they bite the bullet and show Mary the letter that came in the mail: addressed to Bucky, from the circuit court of New York. It lists the court date for review of Mary’s case of custodianship.

Steve’s expecting a meltdown, but what they get instead is a morose sort of silence. He’s not sure he wouldn’t prefer the meltdown. Mary just sniffs and doesn’t talk much, picking her portion of dinner to smithereens before deigning to eat any of it. After their nightly tv time and Bucky's low key domming, she goes off to bed without bidding them goodnight like she usually does.

Steve wakes in the early hours of the morning, having to take a piss. He’s just flushed and is considering being naughty and slipping out to the kitchen to grab himself a slice of cheesecake, when he sees that Mary’s bedroom door is open. He sticks his head in to check on her, but she’s not in her bed. “Mary?” he whispers.

That’s when he hears soft noises coming from the kitchen.

It’s Mary. Steve stalls in place when he sees her, leaning back against the cabinets and face splotchy from crying. She’s dressed in her workout clothes again, hair messy like she’s already been out and back from another workout. Steve frowns worriedly when he spots her house keys and empty water bottle on the counter next to her phone. “Hey Mare,” he says quietly, so that he doesn’t spook her. 

She sniffles as she sees him and hurriedly scrubs her face. “Oh. Hi Steve.”

“What are you doing up?” He takes a few cautious steps closer. “It’s late."

“Just wanted to get a snack,” she says, voice sounding tearful and pitiful. It’s such an obvious lie, Steve doesn’t even bother remarking on it.

“Were you at the gym again, Honey?” he asks. He’d had to intervene at the gym yesterday, when she’d been approaching hour number three with no signs of stopping. Now, he walks over and leans against the countertop’s edge right next to her. The room is dark, but he can just make out the silvery tracks left behind on her cheeks, the puffiness around her eyes. He smiles sadly at her. “You want to talk about it?”

Her expression pinches and she looks away. “No.”

“Okay.”

“... I went to the gym,” she eventually murmurs. 

“Yeah, I cry at the gym, too. All the time.” Steve nudges his bare foot against her sneakered one. “Come on,” he coaxes. “I’m a good listener.”

“You’re a good tattletale,” she grumbles.

“Hey.”

“Well you are. You tell Bucky everything I say and do. And he’s always on me about everything and I just …” she huffs. “I just don’t want to deal with it sometimes.”

“Well …” Steve hedges, knowing that he shouldn’t say what he’s about to say. “You could still tell me,” he offers. He lets his hand inch over on the counter’s edge and hooks his pinkie over hers. She looks down at it, then up to him. Steve’s mouth quirks. “Bucky can be a lot. I know. But he’s just trying to do what’s right. And you’ve gotta remember that he isn’t perfect. He has to live with this thing just like you do. Some days he handles it better than others.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Steve sighs. “Look, if there’s something you want to talk to me about, but you don’t want him to know, it can stay between us.” Mary looks over in surprise and Steve cringes. “Just ... promise me that you’ll talk it out with Linda, too?”

She hums noncommittally. “Walk me back to bed?”

“Course, Hon.”

She shuts herself into her bathroom and returns after a few minutes, dressed in pajamas and her hair towel dried. She seems surprised that Steve has stuck around when she sees him standing there, toeing the line of the doorway. "Oh."

“I didn’t know if you meant …” he shrugs. “Tuck you in?” 

She smiles a little, though it’s sad. Steve thinks she might’ve been crying again in the shower. “Sure,” she says, tucking her head down. She gets into bed and Steve covers her with the blankets, then sits on the edge of the mattress for a moment. “So do you want to talk?” he asks softly.

She chews her lip for a long moment, and just when Steve thinks she’s about to turn him down, she whispers, “... I don’t think it’s working the same anymore.”

“What isn’t working?” 

“The stuff with Bucky. The drops.”

Steve’s lips part in understanding. “Oh. I see.”

She nods and won't meet his eyes. “It doesn’t feel the same as it did before. Like it’s not as strong, or something. And it’s wearing off faster.” Her face pinches and for a second she really looks like she might cry. 

“Honey?” Steve reaches to tuck her damp hair back from her face, and that seems to be what does it. She starts crying and turns into the pillow, hiding there as her breath hitches in tiny sobs. Surprised, Steve lets his hand fall to her shoulder, where he gives her a comforting squeeze. “Hey,” he soothes. “Shhh, it’s okay. It's okay.”

She shakes her head with a little whimper. “No it’s not. I th-thought they’d stop now. They did stop, for a while.”

“What stopped?” Steve asks, confused. 

She sniffles, face crumpled up in distress. “I have bad dreams sometimes. That’s why I was up. Went to the gym to try and run it off.”

“Bad dreams?" Steve says, concerned. "You mean nightmares?" Sometimes Bucky has them too, so he's under no illusions about how debilitating they can be. "Mare?" he prods gently. "What are the nightmares about?”

She burrows further into the pillow, turning onto her side and curling up in a little ball. “Just stuff,” she mumbles. “From when I was a kid.”

Steve gets a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he has to really consider his words carefully before he speaks. He finally settles on a quiet, “Your dad?”

“... Yeah.”

Ouch. Steve swallows. “Honey … you really need to talk to somebody about this.”

She sniffles and shakes her head, and when Steve puts his hand on her shoulder again, she doesn’t try to shrug him off. “You promised not to tell Bucky,” she says.

Steve winces. “Yeah, I know.” Bucky and he already had a pretty good idea about this, but he doesn’t feel the need to point that out right now. “And you promised you’d talk with Linda,” he reminds. “It’s not safe for you to be sneaking out of here at night.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. "It’s just that ... the only thing that ever really made ‘em stop was getting drunk. And then with Bucky …” Her body shudders in a quiet sob. “But now it’s not working the same anymore! So what am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, Mare.” Steve rubs her shoulder. “Shh sh sh, Honey, it’s alright. It’s a process. We just gotta figure out what works for you." He gives her a comforting squeeze. “We’ve got an appointment for tomorrow, okay? We’re gonna talk to Linda and figure this all out. It’ll get better, I promise.” He bends to kiss the top of her head, and soothes her with a gentle litany of murmured words as she cries. “It’s okay, Mare. We’ll figure this out. It’s all gonna be okay.”

She calms down after a while of that, and Steve gives her one last hug before he stands to leave. “Goodnight, Sweetheart. Tomorrow’ll be a better day, you’ll see.”

“Steve?” He turns back around to see her peeking at him from over the top edge of the covers. “On the dresser. On the top, there's a ... You can take it.”

He’s confused, until he goes over and sees the only thing that’s sitting on top of the room’s highboy dresser. His heart all but stops. Carefully, he slides it into the palm of his hand, dread filling his chest like cold water. “Mary,” he says, fearful. “Did you—”

“No,” she says. “But I was thinking about it.” 

With a sinking sense of horror, he realizes what a massive mistake it was to tell Mary he’d keep secrets for her. “Mary,” he says warningly, “You know I can’t keep this from—”

“I’ll talk to Linda,” she says, looking at him with tearful, angry eyes that dig into Steve’s heart. “I gave it to you, didn’t I?”

Steve’s lips thin and he frowns, pained. “Where did you get it?” 

“From work.”

“Why would they have these at your work?”

Mary squirms, looking embarrassed. “It’s for a lamé. For scoring the bread before it goes in the oven.”

Steve sighs and drops his hand, letting his fingers curl loosely over the razorblade. “There’s a limit to this, you know,” he warns. “I want you to feel like you can talk to me without worrying that I’m gonna tell him every little thing, but he’s still my husband. And that means that my responsibility is to him, first.”

Her eyes lower in defeat. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “I know.”

“Hey.” He holds up the blade and gives her a pointed look. “And you can’t be doing this. Because at the end of the day, he’s still the one who’s legally responsible for you. He has to do what he thinks is in your best interest. We both do.”

She frowns and won’t meet his eyes, but after a moment she nods, and Steve believes that she means it when she mumbles a tiny little, “Kay.”

“Kay. You gonna try to get some sleep now?”

She nods, still tearful, but calmer. Steve gently bids her goodnight and heads for the door. When he’s almost got it closed, Mary calls out softly one more time. “Steve?”

“Yeah Honey?”

“Thank you,” she says, so quiet that Steve almost doesn’t hear. “I feel like … I just needed that. To talk to you.”

Steve’s shoulders relax and he smiles grimly, relieved to hear that he’s made her feel a little better, and that he’s able to be someone she can confide in. He even feels a little bit proud that she trusts him enough to tell him these things. It’s almost enough to take away his guilt over promising to keep secrets from his husband.

… Almost. 

“G’night, Mary,” he says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Steve.”

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#m/m/f #m/f/m #trigger warning ed #trigger warning sa #trigger warning abuse #trigger warning sh #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #steve rogers x bucky barnes #fanfic #dom/sub #dom/sub au #dom/sub undertones #dom/sub dynamics #d/s au #d/s #d/s dynamic #d/s relationship #enemies to lovers #hate to love #hurt/comfort #stucky x ofc #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stucky smut

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

May I request a Matt Murdock FF with him in the black suit and him saying “I want you wet and your legs open when I want.”

I am so so deeply passionate about his black suit, so this is perfect. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

black lyrca (matt murdock x fem reader)

wc || <1k

warnings || 18+ only. pin v, smut, praise. no use of y/n. minors DNI

masterlist + rules

taglist

Matt strolls down the fire escape steps returning home after an evening of patrol, a wicked smirk spread across his lips. Placing your book flat on your chest as you gaze over at him, watching the way his black suit clung to him, ogling at his muscles tense under the lycra. He stalks himself over to you on the sofa, the look of need written on the bottom half of his face. 

Grinning, you prop yourself up on your elbows. Crawling over you, hovering as he places urgent kisses on you lips. Instinctively wrapping your legs around him, caging him in.

He separates from hurried kisses to husk in your ears. “I want your legs open when I want, angel. I want you wet and ready for me.” Brashly kissing up your neck, his teeth grazing the soft flesh.

Eagerly nodding your head in response.

“That’s my good girl.” Smirking against your skin.

The need between your legs quadrupled. The idea of him wearing the suit did awfully great things to you, it felt so scandalous to fuck the devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

“I need you now.” He softly grunts between pecks along your collarbone.

You were no stranger to these late night sex-capades, in fact, you loved it so much more, the abundance of need he had for you felt like the most addictive drug; you could never get enough and by the way he acts, you knew he felt the same.

Winding your hips up to rub against his clothed hard-on, wanting to relieve some pressure for the both of you.

“Ah ah.” He tuts, gripping the sides of your waist and pushing down into the sofa.

The way he ‘man-handled’ you sent tingles throughout your whole body, it turned you into a pile of obedient mush when he was controlling like this. 

Propping himself on his knees sitting between your open thighs, his hands flat as they glide underneath your nightgown to stroke up your stomach. Playing with your nipples, rolling his thumb and index finger over them as he winds his clothed groin into the warmth between your thighs.

Trailing his fingers down the front of your nightgown, yanking on the bow to undo it and ripping the fabric away from your body to fully expose you to him. Leaning himself over you to linger kisses down your bare chest. 

“No-no, keep that on.” You breathlessly say, gripping onto his makeshift eye mask, desperately trying to stop him from removing it. “Keep it on.” 

Flashing you a quick smirk before he undoes his pants, pushing them down his thighs to pool around his bent knees. His hand slipped into the front of his boxers to stroke himself a couple of times, hastily pulling them down to his knees. His hands hooked onto your waist, dragging you closer to him.

“You sound so needy right now, I love it.” He grins, lifting your hips up to rest a cushion underneath. In response, you lazily drape your legs over his thighs to keep him close.

Aligning himself to you, poking his tip into your slick. Pushing into you in one swift motion until he bottoms out. Taking a moment to urgently kiss your plump parted bottom lip. 

Bucking his hips to re-enter you a couple of times, his mouth agape as he grunts a few strangled curses.

His hands grip the side of your waist, clasping at your skin to use as leverage as he starts to rut into you. You couldn’t help but whine at the way he’d hit you in all the right spots. 

“You take me so well.” Praises roll off his tongue as he rams into you a little more forcefully. “You sound so fucking pretty.” 

Balancing his weight down on your hips to ram himself into you, perfectly massaging inside of you with his cock. 

Sucking in his bottom lip to clamp down on it with his teeth, trying to hold himself off as he relentlessly ploughs into you. 

“I don’t think I can wait-” He grunts in between thrusts. 

Whimpering at his persistent hits, desperately clutching at his hands that are gripped around you. Eyebrows screwing together with your mouth slack.

The way he flinched inside of you told you that he really meant what he said, he was right there and so were you. 

Your walls clamp around him as your orgasm approaches, fluttering around his sensitive cock as he continues to ram into you. Head falling impossibly further back into the cushion behind your head. Matt twitches inside of you one more time before he spills deep in you. 

Rutting into you as you draw out each other’s release.

Moaning his name as praises fall from his parted lips. “Your noises are so beautiful, keep on taking me- you’re doing so good.” 

Slowing down as he continues to fuck his cum into you. 

He loosens his grip on your waist to hook his hands behind your back lifting you from the sofa to pull you to his chest, flopping you both against the leather while keeping his cock buried deep inside of you. Lying on his heaving chest. 

“You missed me that much, huh?” You joke, kissing his clothed chest. 

“Mhmm.” He hums, wrapping his arms around you. “I always miss you.” 

#matt murdock #matthew murdock #matt murdock fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock x you #matt murdock fanfic #smut #daredevil

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 19/04/2024

i love(d) you

Season 6 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume FF Also on: Now That's What I Call Quality! 3

Ripped by vvsvlogs

Requested by oetaboy and an anonymous reader! @oetaboy (Ask Box)

I'm sure this rip's been a long time coming for many - I know it has for me. I've had i love(d) you sitting in my drafts as far back as in March, but truthfully it's...daunting, to write about. Requested by two readers. Close to 200 thousand views on YouTube, and recently featured prominently in popular Clone Hero YouTuber Acai's "The Quality of SiIvaGunner" series. And the rip itself being an emotional gutpunch in a season filled with them, from a ripper who's already gutpunched me plenty with Wham! Into Dreams and The Paragoomba and the Wiggler. vvsvlogs, Vivi, I ask this with the most sincere gratitude possible - why must you do this to me?

Minecraft as a game has its emotional hooks in at least two generations of people - that much I think we're all aware of. A sandbox filled with endless possibilities, community, friends, individual stories of survival or of great creative endeavors, all wrapped in C418's hauntingly beautiful score, one I've discussed many times before with Fell From a High Place (Reprise), M-O-O-G City and Every Mob Wants To Rule My World. All of these rips are beautiful, yet they're all aiming to play with Minecraft's sound in some way - the former two rips are arrangement of its music with other games' instrumentation, and the latter rip is a melodyswap playing Everybody Wants To Rule The World. They all play on my senses in their own ways, they're all rightfully impressive - but nothing hits quite the same as Minecraft's own music, on its own terms. i love(d) you isn't aiming to impress or amaze - but it lands a full-on critical hit on one's heart through leveraging everything that's kept Subwoofer Lullaby alive for so many years.

I've talked plenty about my musical illiteracy, and so I hope it doesn't come as a surprise that I've never really listened to world-renowed singer Billie Eilish. She's been on the radio, I've heard Bad Guy, but it was never a name I gave much more thought beyond seeing her discussed online from time to time. You can imagine the absolute awe I was in when I clicked on i love(d) you when it first went up, already expecting an emotional hit due to the Minecraft song used, only to get goosebumps from Eilish's vocals alone. i love you is the penultimate song from Eilish's debut studio album, the very same that Bad Guy was featured on - yet compared to that track's bass-heavy, almost seductive energy, i love you feels remarkably personal, with little more than an acoustic guitar and piano accompanying the openly emotional vocal performance. It's sincere in a way I don't hear enough music be, as if a diary translated into song, much the same emotion that Because I Love You conveyed yet with even greater magnitude due to the vocals in play.

i love(d) you, uploaded for 2022's valentines day, wields both of these forms of love - the connections many of us have to one of the most impactful games ever made, and the unfiltered emotion of i love you - to create something unabashedly beautiful. Mashups aren't a novel concept, mashups are nothing new - yet one glance at the comments tells me that I'm not alone in finding this rip in particular to have struck an incredibly sensitive nerve. Because there's a beauty to Minecraft that I think many of us oft forget about. It's a game that we all cherish, yet also one that's very easy to have left behind: we have adult responsibilities, we have school, we have other, shorter, more concise games, we have social media, we have friends, we have blogs...the solemn beauty of playing the game itself is, for many viewers like myself, not much more than a memory, something that can feel ever so difficult to recreate without feeling as if something's wrong.

We...I'm...not a kid anymore.

There was nothing about i love(d) you's concept that necessitated it to be more than just the mashup. There rip had no need for visuals that'd help convey the edit like with Plantasia 2 or Luna, mi Amor, no need to tickle the funnybone like with SUNGORE or the hundreds of other YTPMV rips on the channel. Yet, halfway through the rip, to the tune of Eilish's soothingly reverberating vocals, the background begins to change, not to a bit, not to a reference nor easter egg...but to Minecraft. To where all of this attachment began - to a far-off view of the game's beautiful landscapes as the sun begins to rises. That digital world that looks different for every player, yet the same in everyone's hearts - that place that, no matter how many years pass, how long its been since we last played, we all love. Its impact different to everyone, yet the feeling unanimous. It drives home how well the mashup works not just as a mixture of two deeply emotional songs, but as music tied to a shared experience: all of our Minecraft worlds looked different, all of our personal lives look different, but we've all played the game, and we've all had affection for it.

Every moment I spend thinking about this rip aches in some way. It's been well past two years since it was first uploaded, yet it continues to follow me as the years go on, my mouse drawn to it any time it reappears in my recommendations. In being featured on 2024's Now That's What I Call Quality! 3, I think the team holds much the same sentiment - even as the months pass, i love(d) you is the kind of rip that'll never fall out of favor, never stop meaning things to people. And realizing that it was made by vvsvlogs, the very same vvsvlogs who's already made me far too emotionally vulnerable on here twice before, has only made it mean that extra bit more to me.

I'm not a kid anymore. I know that. But I'll always be grateful to SiIvaGunner, the people behind it, and those who follow it along with me, for being able to bring me back to that state of mind when I least expect it.

Thank you.

#todays siivagunner #season 6 #siivagunner #siiva #vvsvlogs #rip visuals #minecraft #minecraft music #c418 #subwoofer lullaby #minecraft alpha #minecraft beta #minecraft art #mojang #mineblr #billie eilish #acoustic #when we all fall asleep where do we go #Youtube

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Doctor Who, but Chronologically: 44

The second half of a two-parter! And in a sensible order, which in this project, is not to be sneezed at.

So, Matt Smith, Amy, Rory and River, in America AGAIN (is this the third time of going to New York? The fourth?). Last we saw, Amy was shooting a terrified child through the head. Let's see how that resolves!

We open with one of those classic Moffat openings, where everything is slick and fast moving and tries to pull the wool over your eyes before a quick pull-back-and-reveal but regrettably has a few plot holes. Only minor, though, it's not bad. Amy, Rory and River are all on the run being hunted by Sterling-From-Leverage while they build a prison around the Doctor. He "shoots" all of them and then takes them to the prison, but it's a magic special prison that doesn't allow any particles of anything in or out (presumably including air) so they're safe from the penis-fingered aliens and off they go in an invisible TARDIS. Eh. It's fun.

Then there's about 15 minutes of classic horror as they try to track down the little girl (it's River) in an abandoned children's home to find out who she is (it's River) because she's Presumably Important (we literally know this it's River). They're all given a lil' recorder in their palms so when they see a penis-fingered alien they can record into it, and it will flash to let them know they have a message when they look away. They also draw tally marks on themselves so they know when they've seen one. These two things mean lots of creepy shots that are fucking great - I know I often shit all over this era of the show, but the jumpscares and the scary stuff are great.

The only problem really is that the characters are required to be a bit stupid and useless to maximise the horror. There's a GREAT scene where Amy is exploring an abandoned dormitory in the orphanage by torchlight (she looks out the window and we see her reflection, and then there's lightning and her face and hands are now covered in tally marks, fucking FANTASTIC), and the door closes and locks... somehow. Unexplained. Anyway, she suddenly realises her palm is flashing and the message is "I can see them! But I think they're asleep! Just get out!"

Useless. You see them WHERE Amy. WHERE are they. Turns out they're on the ceiling. That would have been useful to know. FFS.

Anyway Amy sees the eyepatch hatch lady again, and then gets kidnapped by penis-fingered aliens. Sterling shoots a penis-fingered alien and takes it back to the prison to film it, and we get a name for them - the Silents. Silents! An answer! We've heard of them. The rest spend a while looking at the space suit the little girl (River) was in. The Doctor claims the Silents steered the development of humans because "Why does humanity suddenly decide to go to the moon?" as if there isn't a long-attested record of humans wanting to go to the stars tracking back to the ancient world, but look - we can't expect the writer of a sci-fi show about history to waste his time knowing things about history.

Also, they've already been to the moon at this point. We've seen Victorians on Mars, with Capaldi and Bill. Lol, this show. How funny that it forgot that little detail that only came a few episodes ago in this watch order. Trololol.

Rory listens to Amy's recorder, which was removed from her palm but is inexplicably still broadcasting everything she says in spite of being nowhere near her. She says some deeply tedious things about wanting to see him BUT WHICH ONE IS SHE TALKING TO it is honestly the most boring thing I've seen on television in a while. "You have a stupid face," she says. Rory looks happy. "My life was so boring before you dropped out of the sky", she says. Rory looks sad.

And then! Interesting!

The Doctor sits next to him.

"Do you remember spending 2000 years as a Roman waiting for Amy?" he says.

"Sometimes but I try not to," Rory says, which is fair.

But interesting! We've had that mentioned before. Is Rory still plastic, then? Must be, he was plastic as a Roman. It wouldn't make any sense whatsoever if he was now human but remembered his plastic memories, after all. Still plastic! Gosh.

Anyway, Sterling gets the Silent he shot to say the sentence "You should kill us all on sight," which he duly videos and sends to the Doctor. The Doctor interrupts the moon landing to play it, which fair play, actually is quite a clever and pleasing way to get rid of the Silents - we won't remember it because it features a Silent, humans then kill them all but don't remember doing it... it's all meta, look. I could have killed one just today. On my way to work, like. Pushed it in the Tawe. Who knows? Fun.

They rescue Amy.

"I didn't know if you meant me or the Doctor," says Rory.

"Obviously you," says Amy. "Why would I mean him?"

"Because you said he "dropped out of the sky"," Rory says

"It's a figure of speech, you dribbling imbecile," mocks Amy.

It's not. There's no such expression. And if there were, I struggle to see how you would apply it to Rory, a man you have known for literally your entire life, apparently. "My life was so boring between the ages of birth and three until you came along" bitch how the fuck do you remember

Anyway it turns out she's NOT pregnant, but the Doctor scans her again and it's inconclusive, which... lol that is the only mystery in this episode, actually. We know all the rest! Amy will have baby Melody who will be the child in the space suit who will regenerate into Mels who will become River who will kill the Doctor. The ONLY part of this storyline we haven't yet seen resolved is why the pregnancy scan is inconclusive. This episode is Badly Served by this watch order.

It finishes with the child regenerating into Mels. This is just as well, because the Doctor decides out loud that he's not going to bother trying to rescue the terrified abused little girl he's been seeing because he wants to have an adventure instead, and so quite literally and without hyperbole abandons her to die on the streets.

Oh and Sterling turns out to be gay and dating a black guy.

Plot threads! Let's update the board!

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest. The Thijarian planet was destroyed by some sort of impact). Is this the Flux?

Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)

The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)

River is possibly blown up  (unless she’s Missy. Nope: she is definitely not blown up)

The TARDIS has blown up  (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again. NOPE, back to not working.)

The universe appears to have ended  (the universe is back again)

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole

(And Nardole was “reassembled???” Nardole had glass nipples and invisible hair?? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE)

There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window? (She’s with the Silents, but we don’t know why Amy saw her)

Why is Amy’s pregnancy inconclusive? (Maybe because the baby had Time Lord DNA?) She’s deffo pregnant and the baby becomes River, but why inconclusive?

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

What happened with the Other Cyber War?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker)

Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri (Not anymore, somehow)

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf?

In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?

Who is the Master?

Why has Amy forgotten Rory? How did she forget a Dalek invasion?

Is Rory plastic or not? NEW INFO: Yeah, must be, he couldn't possibly remember being plastic otherwise

Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?

How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?

What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?

Which friend killed Strax?

Which friend brought Strax back?

Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?

What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?

How does Clara actually join?

Why so many Claras?

Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?

Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?

What is Trensilor and what happened there?

Who is Handles?

The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man

The universe is being crushed by the Flux

Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?

Sontarans are invading Earth again

Who is Kate?

Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?

The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent

Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?

How did the Doctor forget Clara?

Who is Bill’s puddle girlfriend Heather?

How did Nardole die?

When does Bill get Cyberman-ed and die?

When does the Doctor shrink and enter a Dalek called Rusty?

Whittaker is falling to her death rn

Was that ring relevant?

Does anyone know the Doctor’s name?

When did Yaz talk to Dan about fancying the Doctor?

When did Dan talk to the Doctor about fancying Yaz?

What’s happening with the bees?

What happened with Donna’s ex and a giant spider?

What war wiped out the Daleks, and is it one of the ones already mentioned?

What did the Doctor mean when he said “The (Daleks) always live, while I lose everything?”

If Dalek Caan is the last Dalek left why are there more now?

How did the rest of the Time Lords die?

How and why did Amy melt?

What’s the question that will make silence fall?

Why do the Silents… want silence to fall?

How and why are Silents at war with the Doctor when he… hasn’t even heard of them?

How does Hitler get out of the cupboard?

What’s the significance of fish fingers and custard?

Why does the Doctor feel guilt about Rose, Martha and Donna?

What happened with the space whale?

When does Rory defend Amy for 2000 years? NEW INFO: since Roman times, it seems

How does the Doctor survive River? He doesn’t, apparently

How does he erase himself from history

Did Captain Jack lose his memories to the same people as the Doctor? What did he lose?

When did the Doctor send the Daleks into a void to save the universe?

What’s with the weird crack in the wall and is it affecting memories?

Why do Amy and Rory think the Doctor is dead? Is it because of River as an astronaut?

Is Matt Smith’s Doctor a tree racist?

Why is the beautiful geode woman stealing people into a Passenger form?

Who are the penis fingered aliens? RESOLVED: The Silents!

River says she’ll die one day when the Doctor doesn’t remember her, let’s hope she doesn’t mean it

#doctor whom #and yet we are continuing

[abeautifulblog]

(Leslie Fish - "Dane-Geld")

ROFL, I love it. 🤣 This is so fuckin catchy, I am beyond delighted that this song exists. Thank you for introducing this to my life, friendo. 🙏

But also: lol Kipling was so full of shit.

And apologies, but you have activated the hyperfixation, soooo...

--

DANEGELDS: WELL, AKSHUALLY---

or

DANEGELDS: I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED!

--

So, I should have been more clear in my last post: there's nothing inherently ¿🤨? about Burgred bribing vikings to go away, despite what the victorians would have you believe. Paying tribute to placate an aggressive foreign power was standard operating procedure in that era -- just one of the occasional costs of doing international politics.

I mean ffs, lol, THIS was the viking invasion of England:

Vikings land in Kent; Wessex pays them a danegeld to go away. Vikings go to East Anglia; East Anglia pays them a danegeld to go away. Vikings go to York; Northumbria tries to fight them and gets curb-stomped. Vikings go to Nottingham; Mercia pays them a danegeld to go away. Vikings go to Thetford; East Anglia tries to fight them and gets curb-stomped. Vikings go to Reading; Wessex gets curb-stomped for a bit and then pays them a danegeld to go away. Vikings go to London; Mercia pays them a danegeld to go away. Vikings go put down a revolt in Northumbria. Vikings go to Torksey; Mercia pays them a danegeld to go away…………….. but this time the vikings don't leave. (cue my fic)

(Really, Kipling? "We never pay anyone danegeld"?? Said no one ever. The mid ninth century is nothing but the Saxons playing hot potato with the vikings.)

The only ¿🤨? part about Nottingham was why Burgred bothered dragging the West Saxons out of bed to help him besiege the city, if he was just going to pay the vikings off without a single fight. Why assemble such a massive coalition army and then not use it? (That's what modern historians give him shit for, not the danegeld itself -- contrast this with how they tend to characterize Alfred's danegeld, that yeah okay sure, he paid one too, but he made the vikings work for it first.) To me, it suggests that either something about the situation at Nottingham changed, that made fighting untenable, or that having the army was the point -- that it was part of Burgred's leverage for encouraging the Danes to take the payout and go, rather than deciding to keep the city like they'd done with York.

The point is, no one was under any illusions that danegelds would buy a permanent peace -- what they bought you was time. If you were genuinely unprepared to fight off a viking invasion, then paying the danegeld was your best option. (Even if it makes later historians big mad that you didn't go heroically stiff-upper-lip yourself into an early grave.) Yes, your economy will take a hit -- danegelds were not ""trifling"" -- but it'll recover faster from a danegeld than it will from having your armies decimated/crops burned/towns looted/peasants carted off into slavery.

Bribing vikings was a reliable way to make them go bother someone else for a few years, while you (theoretically) got your shit together so you'd be better prepared for the next time they circled back round. Paying a danegeld, in and of itself, was not a dumb or lazy or shameful move -- so long as you treated it like the temporary measure that it was, and followed up with stronger steps. Wessex did; they made good use of the time they bought, and consequently they withstood the next round of invasions. Mercia did not, or not good enough anyway, and that's a different story.

But that's not how Kipling and the victorians felt about it -- they fuckin H A A A A A T E D danegelds. 😂 It didn't vibe with the English Exceptionalism that they were attempting to manufacture, a version of history in which the English were a godly-heroic race of brave and brilliant white people who righteously deserved to take over the whole world. Danegelds were a very embarrassing thing to have to explain -- how could their illustrious ancestors have been so spineless that they'd let themselves get shaken down rather than fight? Or so STOOOOPID, because don't they know that "once you have paid him the Danegeld / You never get rid of the Dane"???? (And with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, they could confidently say that paying danegelds had done Mercia and East Anglia no good.) It would have been far more palatable to their sensibilities if the Saxons had believed in death before danegeld.

But that's imposing an ahistorical set of values on the situation. There's nothing in the contemporary sources to indicate that the Saxons attached any particular shame or stigma to paying a tribute -- to the military defeats that had made it necessary, yeah absolutely, but not the payment itself.

In my opinion, what the Saxon kingdoms should be embarrassed about is not the danegelds, but how long it took them to get their shit together and recognize the vikings as a real threat, and then put aside their petty internecine squabbling to deal with it -- too long, for most of them, and too late by the time they did. It's depressingly familiar, to have one's society faced with an existential threat, while the people in power would rather use the opportunity to dunk on their political rivals than do anything about it. 😐

#Viking Facts tm

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

🔥🔥🔥🔥 9 and 10 for HoTD/F&B

#9 worst part of canon:

Gosh with F&B there's so much that doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'm going to be brave and say the latter part of Aegon II's reign + Hour of the Wolf + early regency of Aeg III (that covers a lot, but hear me out). Apparently no one knows how to leverage hostages properly or use them in negotiations (credit where it is due to Aeg 2 for not killing childre, but offer marriages ffs, Baela and Rhaena two of only 5 remaining Targaryens and Corlys is their de-facto guardian!), we're never given any satisfactory motivation for Larys' actions (yeah yeah he's a mystery but he's a frustrating one rather than a satisfying one to me), Cregan Stark sits out the whole entire war and waits until Rhaenyra and her family are all but dead to come in and clean up house, then for some reason wants to continue the war even after Aegon II is dead, and still gets a the fandom heroic Stark treatment, two of the Lads are literal children and the Riverland has a respawning army, Baela is horribly sidelined which doesn't even make political sense (like what is Corlys even doing??), Jaehaera is killed for no reason, and GRRM does his clean sweep with the Winter Fever to get rid of a lot of the Dance era legacy characters and then the entire council of regents just acts like they did not just finish a devastating civil war. The back quarter or so of F&B is a hurried mess.

#10 worst part of fanon:

This is also a tricky one because there are so many candidates mostly because F&B sort of invites us to create fanon by being so bare bones, but I'm going to go with my personal pet peeve parentified/hyper competent/oldest daughter vibes/my brother's keeper Aemond. I know I'm preaching to the choir here, but I feel like people forget that Aemond is an unreliable narrator when it comes to Aemond. Just because he says, in the show, that he studied history and philosophy (and he's a prince so we should hope so, so did Aegon presumably, and Jace, and Luke... ) doesn't mean he actually is some political genius. Just because he claims he would honor his duty, doesn't mean he'd back that up with action. Just because he does what his mother wants when it's convenient, doesn't mean she can depend upon him when it counts. Remember, Aemond was the one who shrugged off Alicent when she tried to stop him from giving the "Strong boys" toast. Aemond is the one who pledges himself to a Baratheon girl, and then goes off and reportedly marries Alys Rivers. Aemond is the one who leaves his armies vulnerable while he goes on a one man crusade against Daemon. And remember, the son that actually comes back to Alicent is Aegon. One of the things that makes Aemond's character interesting isn't that he's the good dutiful son one to Aegon's fuckup, it's that the illusion of competence that he projects doesn't actually hold up under pressure.

#asks #haterism #f&b #branwendaughterofllyr

[vtuberconfessions]

call me a tinfoil hatter but I can see NO way in which Vox, Ike and Elira - Selen's friends - could be made to say these things unless they actually meant them. we've seen time and time again that it's SO easy to leave Niji and regain like half your viewers before you even go live lmao Niji's rep is in tatters to the point EN livers SUPPORTING their company get hate. leaving has never been easier ffs So I think Nijisanji had ZERO leverage to force three of their biggest streamers to stab their friend and former colleague in the back. it's more likely that there just... really are two sides to the story.

anyway Niji still sucks and needs to change their methods yeehaw

.

#vtuber #vtubers #vox akuma #ike eveland #elira pendora #nijisanji #nijisanji en #luxiem #lazulight #nijisanji english #niji en #nijien #anycolor inc #anycolor #vtuber confessions #selen's termination

[heraldofcrow]

wait, you’ve now got me wondering, who’s shittier, Micolash or Hojo?

(Sorry for the wait on this one!!!)

Alright, we got the squad curious and I’m actually thinking on it myself now so…..

Which one of these cackling, deranged, shriveled, greasy-haired unethical scientist/scholar bitches is winning the sicko-off?

(Idk why I’m laughing so much at both of them rn. Their stupid mannerisms paired with the pure insanity of the atrocities they commit is the funniest contrast ever 💀)

Let’s see.

They have both:

✅ Abused, kidnapped, mutilated, and killed humans and animals for experimentation

✅ Created/Bred mutant monsters from humans and animals

✅ Sacrificed countless lives (for science!)

✅ Betrayed people that trusted them

✅ Supported or worked with corrupt organizations

✅ Fucked up entire villages/civilizations/environments

✅ Violated the Geneva Convention several times

However, I am actually going to give Micolash some grace here, because thanks to cut dialogue, we know that he had/has something that Hojo isn’t shown with much of.

Humanity.

You can hear his cut lines here, but there is something desperate and almost sad in how he sounds in his search for understanding. He seems almost jealous of Rom maybe, a little bitter, and very, very alone.

Now he did violate human rights to the nth degree—don’t get me wrong. I mean….he’s responsible for….

….this fucking thing….

Masses and masses of sacrificed human bodies, reborn in a cheap attempt to recreate an evil god. Micolash is responsible for all the dead scholars chained to the Mensis Ritual. He is responsible for the desecration of Mergo, the godchild. There are dead children in Yahar’gul, and implications of women being kept alive only for their fertility. There are mutilated animals. There is the Brain of Mensis which is apparently made up partially of dead scholars. There are kidnappers roaming around on his behalf, sent to snatch up innocent victims for the rituals. It’s disgusting. There’s no end to the horrors Micolash has set in motion, and what’s worse—he clearly had the charisma to lure others to his side. He has dozens of Pthumerians and Yahar’gul hunters working for him. Edgar, a traitor to the Choir, rejoices when he kills you and stops you from progressing further towards Micolash. There are hints of the power Micolash held and his brilliance, his allure.

I think Micolash was genius and dangerous, but even still, I will afford him SOME leverage here for that dialogue. I really think he was desperate and was the type to sacrifice everything to get his way.

Hojo is a bitch ass motherfuc—sorry, ahem, Hojo is easier to judge because we SEE him do shit and listen to a lot of his dialogue, but I also think he is just objectively worse in some ways because of the scale of damage he caused? The world was almost completely wiped out thanks to him using his son for an experiment.

That was really where it all started if we’re being fair. Sure, it wasn’t initially his project but he took things to the next level by marrying a woman and agreeing with her to use their child to test out the effects of aliens cells fusing with humans. WHO DOES THAT.

Maybe he could have averted the horrific results had he treated his child…like a child…but since the OG and beyond, we’ve only been given more and more disgusting hints of how Hojo massively fucked that up. Deliberately. He was treating the whole thing like an experiment from beginning to end. He was never a father, just an unethical scientist.

On that note, everything he does is just repulsive and violating.

Sometimes I remember the scene with Aerith….where he…just is so creepy. He makes my skin crawl.

Who the fuck asks an innocent girl if she’d like to see the remains of her dead mother through a microscope…the mother Hojo basically caused the death of and then catalogued and stored in…pieces….ffs I am going to throw up 💀

Yeah, and then there are the atrocities of course, that go beyond what Micolash could afford loll. Hojo had a bigger budget being backed by Shinra, so the amount of people, animals, ENTIRE VILLAGES, and who knows what else was all subjected to his brutal experimentation. You know it’s bad and especially perverse when fucking Sephiroth, who had been involved in literal war since he was a child, saw it in Rebirth and started freaking out.

I felt queasy too when I fully understood the mako pods in the Nibelheim reactor.

They were built to CONDENSE mako (liquid) into materia (solid)….like extreme pressure cookers…and Hojo put people and animals in them ;-;

Yeah, he’s awful. They both are, and they’re basically the same guy, yes. But Hojo is just on another level of twisted thanks to some extra details and the amount of destruction he caused, methinks.

#don’t get me wrong #micolash is one sick mf but i sense that he may have been a better person once #i don’t get that with hojo much #i feel like he decided early on that he was going to be free of remorse for what he did with natural life #he had to be the best and most ascended mind at all costs #him also being horrible to his own family adds another layer of cruelty + he is responsible for half the shit the main cast goes through #hojo #micolash host of the nightmare #professor hojo #bloodborne #ff7 #asks #crossover discussion

[susansontag]

then just say what you’re actually angry at her for ffs. some people need to be made to think, it’s unreal. women transgressing appropriate behaviour is always met with dull comments about their appearance, it’s the exact same behaviour that was leveraged against amber. all this does is keep these attitudes alive for the next time a female target comes along who ‘deserves it’ lol. women are not a special breed, they can have terrible ideas like men do, but like men on the whole they should be judged based on those ideas not based on their perceived ageing

#misogyny is one big stew we're seasoning all the time \: #moth.txt #I tag AH/JD related things with #AH trial

[indiaalphawhiskey]

It’s infuriating to watch these critics disguise personal attacks as “highbrow movie critiques”, when, within the first two sentences, you can tell that their entire shtick is to be the pick me that’s impervious to Harry Styles.

And that’s fine when it comes to his music, because yes, that’s all him. (And no, I wasn’t expecting an Oscar nom or even effusive praise for his third movie role ever — I know he’s not a trained actor, I knew casting him was a gamble, I knew he wasn’t going to hit it out of the park the first couple of times. I love him, but, contrary to what critics seem to think, a fan can also be rational.)

But don’t fucking complain that he can’t disappear into a role if you’re deliberately going to ignore anything concrete about the movie, in order to find a plausible space for your 500 word litany of why he, as Harry Styles, just isn’t as ✨golden✨ as everyone thinks.

Have some respect for cinema. Have some respect for the actual content of the movie. FFS, at the very least spare a comment for the five other actors that make up the ensemble cast if you’re going to have a shot in hell of making your critique seem remotely valid.

Hope your one (1) viral hit tweet was worth the artistic integrity you bartered on your name. Maybe you can buy some self-respect with your clicks. God knows you’re gonna need it when you can’t leverage his name in your “articles” anymore.

#iaw rant

[waheelawhisperer]

I gotta stop annoyance-reading fndm wags who think Yang was being extra sacrificially meatheaded & ruining the STRQ gals' tortured obfuscatory efforts by Getting Personal with Salem. I mean: (a) she already got a Seer-cam of blondie consoling the silver-eyed kid she just 'your mom' bombed; (b) Yang had zero reason to figure this group's minutes weren't numbered anyway; (c) even if Salem might keep 'em for leverage to make Penny turn over herself/the staff, uh, Ace-Ops? Nuke deadline? FFS.

at this point when people criticize Yang's choices I just assume they're stupid

#like she's not perfect or immune to criticism but the people who throw shade at her do it for the stupidest of reasons #rwby #yang xiao long

[semi-imaginary-place]

Final Fantasy XII is my second favorite FF game closely behind IX and people seem to widely hate this game and I think they mostly weren't paying attention because a lot of 12's storytelling is pretty subtle and the cut scenes are very information dense like each action will be conveying 3 different layers of information at once so you have to rewatch everything to understand it all. I also happen to like political dramas. The story was exciting and I always wanted to know what would happen next, the themes were compelling, and I liked all the characters (except Vaan). Ashe is the main character the plot is about her and her choices are what decide the narrative, Vaan is just there which would be funny expect that he's Vaan.

"the nuke-stone plot" gave me a chuckle. FFXII's is about the consequences and choices of wielding power. The story is about how sometimes solutions are not obvious or easy to navigate. Ivallice has many competing agendas and they aren't cartoon villain evil, yet still conflict occurs because people want to do things different ways. Ashe spends the early part of the game powerless because she has no leverage to convince people to help Dalmasca, no nation, no people, that's why she goes for the nuke stone. What's his name traitor dude choose to negotiate then instead of trying to get more leverage, giving up hope on full autonomy for a deal where Dalmasca gets partial self rule and its queen back.

#ffxii

[silver-pieces]

these abundant skies

Pairing: Okoye x (afab) fem!reader

Word Count: 677

Synopsis: Okoye takes you for a ride in a Wakandan aircraft and spoils you.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT READ, smut (oral FF & fingering), flying in an aircraft

A/N: Day 9 of Marvel Girlfriend May - Okoye my beloved 😍 I hope you enjoy this little drabble. Reblogs are always appreciated!

Divider ❊ Masterlist ❊ More Okoye ❊ Taglist

"It’s so peaceful up here.”

You lean up against the glass, drinking in the sight of Wakanda from above.

It occurs to you how strange it is that now you can see so much more of the city all at once, you can’t hear any of that noise. The energetic thrum that runs through the city is gone, replaced by silent air.

...and footsteps.

Okoye wraps her arms around your middle, stirring warmth through your body. “Do you like it, my love?”

You nod, unable to hide your smile. “Shouldn’t you be flying the ship?”

“Ah, you have so much to learn about these things.” She spins you in her arms, making you giggle as the skirt of your dress flares. “You are standing in the most advanced aircraft on the planet. You don’t think we installed autopilot?”

"Okay, I get it.” You roll your eyes at her.

She plants a kiss on your lips. “You will pay for your attitude.”

“Attitude?!” you protest, but she’s already guiding you back, pushing you across the ship floor, until your calves hit the rim of the pilot’s seat.

She doesn’t even need to say it - her raised eyebrow is enough for you to know where she wants you, and you feel your pussy get immediately wetter. She has you well trained.

Without hesitating, you turn around and lower yourself over the seat.

A groan rings out from behind you, and then she’s kneeling down behind you and gripping you thighs.

You open your legs obediently.

“Hm, so you do know how to behave.” And she flips your dress up, smoothing her palm over your bare skin.

You can’t help but wiggle your hips, desperate for more of her touch. “Okoye, please.”

She rewards your begging with her finger, gently pushing through your folds, gathering your wetness. It makes you gasp and shudder with pleasure, like you always do when she touches you there.

Her touch disappears from you, and your breaths grow shallow as you wait, unsure where she will take this next.

Sudden warmth blooms over the curves of your ass as she grips you firmly, using the leverage to press her face between your legs. Her warm breath stirs against your pussy, and you leak more wetness involuntarily.

She uses her tongue.

Oh fuck. You inhale sharply at the sensation of broad, warm strokes over your pussy. She seems intent on exploring every inch of you. Her tongue invades your tight channel, lapping at your wetness with relentless force.

Then further down, along your slit, pushing through your core and sending you into bliss. You bite your lip, holding back the wail threatening to escape your throat.

Her grip on your ass tightens, pulling your cheeks apart and exposing your pussy more for her.

As you open your eyes, you catch the sight of treetops, flying past as the aircraft soars over them. It’s so fast you can’t keep up.

Okoye increases the pace, feasting on your pussy.

You come, cresting into pleasure all at once. The wave of bliss crashes over you, contorting your body in her arms. You feel one hand leave your ass and press down on the small of your back instead, forcing you to keep your back arched, your pussy presented for her.

Your eyes roll back. “Oh, oh my god - ” you gasp.

“Mm,” she hums against your clit.

Okoye is always like this when it comes to you. She’s insistent, forcing every ounce of pleasure out of you. Even when you think you’re done, she proves you wrong.

And as she finally slows down, allowing you a moment to rest, you sink down off the chair and onto your knees. “You are... wow...” is all you can manage to say.

She smirks at you, and gently pushes you to the floor of the ship. It’s cold and hard, but you’re too wrung out on pleasure to care, staring up at her with your half-lidded gaze.

Kneeling between your legs, she runs a hand down your dress. “Round two?”

#okoye x reader #okoye x you #lesbian #wlw #marvel x reader #marvel x you #mcu x reader #mcu x you #sil's writing