#and then fuck one of the other soldiers to find any form of intimacy+comfort

[arospecsyourblockdudes]

more historical fiction needs to be set in ww1. bonus points if you fag it up

#every time i check historical fiction books its like the year: 1943 and like OK geez #either ww2 era or like the 60s or 20s or some shit #can i PLEASE get a story set in the goddamn trenches of verdun thats mean and nasty about killing characters #sorry theres no easy “bad side” in that war ?? make the bad side the governments cuz thats what it was #my god. can i read about our protag watching some guy die horrifically from a gas attack #and then fuck one of the other soldiers to find any form of intimacy+comfort #read one book set in ww1 but it focused mainly on the russian revolution. still a good one i love u martha hall kelly #but they made this one random dude enlist in the air force and i was SURE he was dead walking corpse u know #but he SURVIVED i was mad. kill this bitch #pilots at a certain point in the war i wanna say 15-16 had such short life expectancies KILL HIM !!!!! #anyway if u have recommendations of queer ass ww1 books i will take them please and thank u #dont even have to be queer just want some all quiet on the western front type shit

[aikaterini-drag]

Bucky Barnes

Kofi ❤️ Wattpad 🧡 AO3 🩷 ASK ME 🩵

Series (explicit 💦):

Pairing: Bucky Barnes × Fem!OFC

Fading Scars • Bucky Barnes gets re-captured by Hydra. He is sent on a mission to abduct a woman named Grace. But he will soon find out that she is all he could ever ask for; his salvation, his whole world. Status: Ongoing | Warnings: Violence, Non-Con Abduction, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers

Super Soldier, Super Dad • For Sergeant Bucky Barnes, life had been filled with nothing but missions and uncertainty. But everything changed when he met his Jane. She walked into his world and cast away the nightmares. She made him smile, made him love again, and gave him life’s most surprising gift— their child. Status: Ongoing | Warnings: Established Relationship, Unplanned Pregnancy, Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Pregnant Sex, Fluff, Dad-to-be Bucky Barnes

Alpha Bucky Barnes (explicit 💦)

Pairing: Alpha Bucky Barnes × Omega!reader (no mention of y/n)

Craving • Your Alpha returns from his most recent mission, he has missed you and he craves for the scent and feel of your body.

Princess and the King • Urged by a bout of jealousy, your Russian Alpha fucks you from behind.

ONE-SHOTS (No smut ✨)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes × Fem!reader (no mention of y/n)

Unspoken Desires • Bucky hesitates to open up to you, fearing to tell you how much he admires and wants you (takes place during tfatws, shy Bucky)

First Date • Your first date with Bucky (takes place during tfatws, kisses, boyfriend Bucky, fluff)

Into the Heart • How it would feel to be intimate with Bucky Barnes (established relationship, fluff)

Wrapped in affection • Snuggling in bed with Sergeant Barnes (fluff, kisses)

All-consuming Love • Bucky loves you more than anything in the world (implied smut, fluff, intimacy)

The Dance of Raindrops • Caught in a sudden downpour couldn’t be any sweeter (comfort, fluff, intimate kisses)

Fragile Embrace • Bucky is afraid to hug you tightly because of the serum in his system (implied smut, fluff, intimacy)

Caring Boyfriend • Bucky has never before seen you get sick or feel unwell, and now he's in overprotective mode (caring overprotective Bucky, fluff)

Smiles and Smooches • You get drunk and demand kisses and hugs from your boyfriend. He is more than happy to please you. (emotional security, fluff, kisses)

ONE-SHOTS (explicit 💦)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes × Fem!reader (no mention of y/n)

Whispers of Rapture • Bucky wakes up from a nightmare and longs for the warmth of your skin against his (needy Bucky, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, cockwarming)

Special Content (explicit 💦)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes × Fem!reader (no mention of y/n)

Night of Sensual Delights (Halloween Special) • You plan a sweet and romantic Halloween night with but your boyfriend has other ideas for enjoying his candy (oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, cockwarming)

⚠️ **NO PLAGIARISM ALLOWED!**

⛔️ **DO NOT STEAL, REPLICATE, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.**

I strictly FORBID any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent. This includes reposting my stories on other websites, platforms, etc.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #beefy bucky #alpha bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier #cacw #captain america #stever rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve x bucky #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x original female character #fanfic by aikaterini

[chloe-writes]

Hey, I saw that your requests are open and that you write polyamory so I wanted to request a erwin x reader x Levi fluffy fic where either erwin or levi realises that they are in love with the others and they form a relationship. If your not comfortable with the ask feel free to just ignore it, thanks :)

Two Is Never Enough

[Levi x Erwin x Fem!Reader]

[Fluff - Canonverse]

Summary: Levi finds himself in love with his commanding officer, Erwin, and with his co-squad leader, (Y/N). While struggling with who to choose, a shocking revelation makes itself known.

Content Warning: comedic Hange, corny pick-up lines

Word Count: 1k

Levi doesn't remember falling in love. All he remembers is looking at them and realizing how much it would hurt to see them leave.

Love, of any form, is in human nature. Every single one of us is tied with a yearning sense for intimacy. One could only wonder: what pain would someone have to go through to fervently refuse this idea?

He'd been that someone once. He would still be if it weren't for them.

The commander who fulfilled his dream from when he was still in the underground—giving him the vast sky that looked like his deep sapphire eyes. And his golden locks, which resembled the warm sun. Erwin Smith's outer looks alone were enough to put the sun and sky to shame.

His co-squad leader, (Y/N), whom her voice is the song of his heart—if there existed a goddess of solace, she would play the part.

Them. It was them who broke Levi's barricades.

Then suddenly, humanity's strongest soldier was only just a man, wanting to love and be loved.

But who was he to choose? They were equal in his eyes. Especially when both of them were making advances on him.

Erwin passes him notes during meetings, asking him out on a date. While (Y/N), on the other hand, became a frequent visitor to his office, bringing him tea along with corny flirtatious pick-up lines. Levi especially hated the, "Do you want to be Acker-mine?"

Slumping back on his seat, the short captain sighed, he had never been this confused. The cup of tea in his hands was his only source of comfort. He sipped the beverage sparingly, hoping the earl-grey tea would last until he had an answer to his aching heart.

Love is the 6th sense that destroys all 5 senses and makes you nonsense.

In desperate times like this, there was only one thing to do.

Levi shot up from his seat, quickly dashing to the door and into the dark cobblestone halls, mentally praying that the titan-lover wasn't busy.

The door that enclosed Hange's personal laboratory slammed open, almost breaking into pieces from the impact.

"Oh Levi, perfect timing, I needed help with an experi-" The mad scientist was cut off abruptly.

"Hange."

"Let me guess, heartaches? Yeah, your expression gave it away."

"How the he-"

"Levi, you dummy. You think I don't see you plucking the petals of a flower like a little school girl? Reciting 'they love me, they love me not'."

The man slightly blushed from embarrassment, much to Hange's amusement. "Unbelievable," was all he managed to mutter.

"Then date them both, at the same time."

"Cheating is not my thing. I'd rather fuck a titan"

Hange saw an opening to tease him, "Oooh I would like to see you try. We have Sawney and Bean. Take your pick. Oh I forgot, you're indecisive."

"Lord give me patience with this sorry excuse for a human in front of me"

"I think you meant 'Lord give me strength to overcome my heartaches'."

"If I had more strength I would have already killed you and your shitty titan pets by now."

The bespectacled brunette adjusted their glasses, "Heyyy, I'm only trying to help you because you are in way over your head."

"I'm in way over my head? You're way over your head because your head is up your ass." With that, Levi takes his leave, gaining nothing from his talk with Hange.

The remainder of the day was spent in moodily staring by the window, ruminating about his lovelife. In full retrospect, Hange did have a point. A trio relationship set-up? It actually wasn't that bad, better even. However, the black-haired man's fear was that he might get rejected if he offered such an idea to the two people he wanted to date.

Almost forgetting that Erwin had requested for his presence, he makes his way to the commander's office. He was hoping that the blond called him for work-related purposes only, otherwise he wouldn't be able to bear any further emotional confusion.

Entering his commanding officer's office, Levi Ackerman could only stare eye-wide, jaw dropping to the floor.

(Y/N) was sitting on Erwin's lap, giving him little pecks on the neck. He didn't know if he should be jealous or relieved. Jealous because he wanted to be either of them in that position. And relieved, because this could be an opportunity to the three-way relationship he secretly wanted.

"Took you long enough to arrive to the scene, mister." (Y/N) was the first to break the silence, walking over to Levi and poising a hand to her hips.

"Could someone explain what the fuck is going on." The shorter man demanded. His impatience was rising at a dangerous level in the lack of knowledge pertaining the situation unwrapping before him.

Erwin stood up to clarify his confusion. "You see, (Y/N) and I have been seeing each other covertly for the past two months. We were happy with each other, but something just wasn't right. It didn't take long for us to figure out that you were the missing piece. We wanted you to join us. (Y/N) even made a competition out of it, she bet a month's worth of desserts to whoever stole your heart first."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"So it's up to you, Levi. Would you like to embrace abnormality and become a throuple with us?"

He took a glance at them, eyes interlocked with a pair of blue and (e/c) ones, a three-way unspoken conversation held— so this is love?

In a world as temporary as this, it was scary to imagine that something would last forever. There was never a right time to wait for, nor will there ever be. So whenever you're given the chance, take the risk.

"That would... that would be nice." The short captain could feel the tension that coursed through his body disappear. He wondered what good did he do in his previous life to be blessed with this type of joy.

The woman looked at her two lovers with puppy eyes, "So do I win the desserts or what?"

Once, not too long ago, Levi was caught between the strings of love, heart torn between two people. To expect so much from one person alone was ridiculously selfish. Many may not understand their relationship set-up, but as long as they were happy, nothing else mattered. It was the ultimate life to live and all theirs to enjoy.

A/N: To anon, your wish is my command :) Not sure if you preferred modern AU or canonverse, so I chose the latter. This was really a challenge to write, I don't know if it's how you wanted it to be. It could have used more dialogues tbh, but I didn't know what to put. Nonetheless, I kinda like it.

[ Masterlist ]

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #aot imagines #aot x reader #levi ackerman #aot levi #erwin smith #aot erwin #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi x you #erwin x reader #erwin x you #erwin x y/n #eruri #levihan #erwin x levi #erwin x levi x reader #polyamory #levi ackerman x reader #aot headcanons #anime #aot fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi x hange #levi x hanji #hange zoe #levi x erwin x reader #erwin x reader x levi

[that-damn-girl]

(1) Daze of Pollen

(Work in Progress - 1 of 8; Slow updates)

Daze of Pollen Materlist

Pairing: (cis)fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson

Words: 1800+

Warnings: None except language?

Summary:  Bucky, Steve, Sam and you are in the safe house post mission when a retrieved Hydra device activates, releasing a kind of pollen you don’t know of, but the effects of which are soon discovered.

A/N: To all my horny bitches out there, I’m sorry the first chapter isn’t smutty. I didn’t plan on keeping the entire first chapter as the intro but it just...happened. Also, This is my submission for @buckyssoul​​ ‘s Rae Hit 1k Marvel Writing Challenge. I’m sorry for the delay. Hope you like it!

It is a strange concept, really. We don't always get what we want. But  if we do, it's when we least expect it, in the most strangest of ways as well.

Call it your good luck, fate, destiny, a simple mere coincidence, or whatever. You were grateful for that night in the safe house regardless. For the first and the last time, you could say that you were thankful for a little Hydra contraption.

It all started during a peaceful dinner. You and your group of friends were relaxing after a successful mission, treating yourselves with any and all comfort food available in the safe house. The mission was anticipated to be much harder than usual; the only reason why Bucky and Sam had asked you and Steve to accompany them. Quite unexpectedly, the mission went smoothly and it seemed there was no need for the extra help they had requested. But considering the mission consisted of scoping out an abandoned Hydra base, being overly cautious was preferred than being overconfident. One never knew the levels of villainy Hydra truly possessed.

Oh, you were about to discover the truth in that statement just fine.

Bucky sat across from you on the dining table, Sam to your right. The duo played catch with a balled sheet of paper, their half eaten meals abandoned on the table. You and Steve conversed with them while enjoying your respective sandwiches.

It was true that Steve had given up his Captain America mantle to Sam, a man just as deserving of the title, but hadn't completely retired. He didn't get out on the field anymore, but used his excellent strategic skills in planning the missions sometimes, especially if it included Hydra. 

All of you would have been enroute to the Compound had Rhodey and Scott not hogged the quinjet. None of you minded though. With the four of you together, it was very much like a quiet night in with close friends. Unbeknown to you, it wasn't going to be particularly quiet much longer.

"Does it smell funny to anybody else here?" Bucky asked, pausing midway while rocking his chair. Squinting his eyes, he glanced around himself to locate the source of the smell, a deep frown etched onto his features.

Steve took a tentative whiff, you and Sam doing the same. "No pal, I don't smell anything."

"It's…" Bucky closed his eyes, taking in deep inhales. "It's faint but it's there. I'm sure of it." 

You and Sam glanced at each other, a raised eyebrow followed by a shrug. Suddenly Bucky sat up with a start, his gaze fixating on a corner of the room. Following his line of sight, you found the hard black stacked containers with the Shield logo which held the Hydra files and devices you had retrieved from the base earlier in the mission. 

"It's coming from there, I think." Bucky stood up and reached the stacked containers in only a few long strides. Before any of you could stop him, he lifted the cover to inspect its contents. 

Immediately a puff of bright yellow powder-like substance was released from the inside, as if a smoke bomb had been triggered. Bucky coughed as the coloured dust hit his senses. It didn't take long for the particles to dissipate in the air. Soon the clean air around you was shrouded with the yellow dust, leaving all of you a coughing mess.

"What is it?" You wondered, one hand waving in front of your face to get rid of the dust while the other protectively covered your nose. It was no use though. It was everywhere, the particles so fine they slithered through the gaps between your fingers. You could do nothing but inhale it as you coughed helplessly. The particles stuck to the insides of your mouth. You couldn't feel them on your tongue or the roof of your mouth, but the dryness that followed was a sure shot indication. The tangy scent of it overwhelmed your senses, making you wonder how could you have missed it.

"Look inside the container, Bucky. See what released it." Sam instructed with broken words in between the coughs.

"Fucking Hydra," Steve muttered under his breath.

Following Sam's orders, Bucky peeked inside and pulled out a wooden cube. It was small enough to be grasped in his palm. One of its faces had the ugly red symbol of Hydra painted on it. The cube was heavily cracked along the sides. Had Bucky not held onto it firmly, it would have fallen apart right then. 

Sam, you and Steve drifted closer to Bucky as the yellow dust gradually dissipated into nothing - or rather as the most of it was already inhaled by you all. The cube appeared to hold some carvings in a language you supposed was Russian. 

"I...don't...understand…" Bucky's fingers drifted across the letters as he tried to make sense of it. "Fuck!" With widened eyes, Bucky retraced the words, confirming what he had read. Throwing the cube across the room, he started pacing the room, his head hidden behind his palms. 

"Come on, man, you're scaring me." Steve said, approaching his friend.

"You should be!" Bucky yelled, all his frustrations coming out on the wrong person. He loudly groaned, rubbing his forehead, "I'm sorry. It's just that…"

"What is it, Bucky?" You asked.

Bucky looked at you, his gaze sweeping over your form. He bit his lip, an almost remorseful look coming over in his eyes. In a much softer voice, he said, "I don't know how to explain it. I don't know where to start."

"Do you know what the yellow dust we all inhaled was?" Sam asked. 

Bucky replied after a long pause. "It was a sort of pollen which Hydra had engineered." 

"Hydra modified...pollen?" You asked. The idea sounded as bizarre to you as snow in the Sahara. "What?"

"No- Well, um, yes," Bucky took a deep breath before he started explaining. "Hydra could never replicate the super soldier serum they used on me. But they needed more super soldiers. It hardly ever happened that anybody else would succeed in recreating those serums so that Hydra could steal. They decided that if they couldn't transform using the serums, they would...breed super soldiers. That's when Project Growth started. These pollen were engineered to assist in it." 

"How did the pollen assist Project Growth?" You asked, confusion dripping from your voice.

Bucky glanced at you but quickly diverted his gaze, unable to keep the eye contact. "Project Growth was about using super soldiers like me and those four others to... impregnate willing women. Conception with super soldiers is harder than usual for some reason. So they came up with this pollen to aid the process. It's an aphrodisiac. They called it sex pollen, because well, it increases one's sexl drive... by a lot. So much so that it might be fatal if the person exposed to it doesn't, you know, climax."

"What? Are we gonna want to fuck like rabbits then? Become Hydra's breeding bitches?" Sam asked, crossing his arms in front of him.

"The experiments were never successful. They did it a couple of times and it never resulted in a pregnancy. This box," Bucky gestured to the broken cube lying on the floor, "I don't know how or when but it got activated somehow." He shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea if the pollen inside it was a sample of those failed experiments or if that of a new one. Either way, we don't have long before the effects would start showing."

There was a lull in the room, the implications of what Bucky said sitting heavy on everyone's minds.

"We can keep ourselves locked in our separate rooms until it wears off to...get ourselves off." Steve's cheeks were tinged a deep shade of red as he proposed the idea.

"It's not that easy. Trust me, I've been through it." Bucky looked at Steve. "It's something about needing another person's touch; a sense of intimacy. No matter what you do on your own, it won't ever be enough. It would send you in a daze of lust, where the only thing you could focus on would be to anyhow satiate yourselves. You would desperately want another person to touch you, no matter who or what gender. You'd need them to touch you." He glanced at each one of you. "I'm sorry, but it's going to be nasty."

"So what you're saying is, it's basically fuck or die?" Sam said.

"When you put it that way…" Bucky tried to think of a better phrase but finding none, he replied, "-Well, yes."

"I don't know what to say," You crossed your hands in front of your chest. To say that you were shocked was a massive understatement. You couldn't even begin to believe that any of it was true.

Unconsciously, your gaze drifted over each of the men in the room. They all stood with a hard look on their handsome faces, lost deep in thought. You weren't sure if it was you or the pollen due to which you felt yourself get wet, your panties gradually dampening and sticking to your form. 

Truth be told, you had always wondered what being with these men would feel like, what fucking them would be like. Would Sam choke you in a sensual manner with those bulging arms of his? Would Bucky keep you pinned to the bed with his thick thighs? What would gripping America's Ass feel like when Steve would be pumping his length into you?

You bit your lip, your mind conjuring up a train of lewd images. You wondered if it all would come true that night. Though you had considered them insanely attractive since the day you had met them, you never dared to act upon any of your desires with either of them. They were your close friends, and you'd be damned if you'd destroy it for a night of pleasure.

Now though, you had no other option but to fuck them if you valued your life. On any other day you would have laughed boisterously had anyone suggested such a thing, but it was your reality right then. 

You realized it didn't have to be a necessarily bad thing though

Huffing dramatically, you stood straighter, hands falling by your sides. With a newfound confidence, you asked, "Well then, what are we waiting for?"

"What?" Steve asked, dumbfounded. 

"At one point or the other, we would eventually go crawling to someone. I don't think we'd be in control of ourselves if it would make us that desperate. Avoiding the inevitable makes no sense. It's better to start it while we are still able to make conscious decisions and consent to being with each other. At least I'd prefer that."

The men looked at each other, a silent conversation happening amongst them. Bucky asked, "Are you sure, Y/N?" 

You smiled. "I am, Bucky. If it's gonna be this way, then I'm glad it's the three of you. Are you guys sure though?"

Bucky glanced at Sam and Steve before smirking, "You bet we are, babydoll."

You walked closer to Bucky, standing on the tip of your toes as your arms curved around his neck, excitement thrumming through your veins. "Let's get this show started then."

Chapter 2

Blog’s Main Masterlist ||  Tag lists

I’m taking requests if you want a particular kink to be featured. Send me an ask or text me for the same or to be tagged.

Thank you for reading!

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x you #sam wilson x you #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rogers x y/n #sam wilson x y/n #sex pollen

[mondayrobot]

Year-End Fanfiction List (E)

This year has opened me to so many fan-fictions. Here are the list of EM fan-fictions that I thoroughly enjoyed reading this year.

Warning: The contents contain graphic/explicit adult themes

Rating: Explicit

beautiful little somethings ( kanjogirl )

She's beautiful, Eren knows, in every context that could ever apply. So he begs for a little taste.

Bitten ( SaraCF )

The first time they made love, he held himself back. Sweet yet rough with yearning touches. He tried his best not to harm her in any way, because for him she was like a porcelain doll — beautiful and delicate. She kept telling him that she was okay with anything, no matter what he did to her. Nevertheless, he was always going to be careful. Or that's what he thought at first.

Crash My Party ( ackermansheart ) @ackermansheart​

[...] and when he’s got her hands now and he’s dragging her towards his bedroom he wonders just how many times he’s sworn off her touch only to inevitably fall back to that very same place.

What happens when Mikasa and Eren crash each others parties, again and again?

Drizzle ( dialectus ) @dialectus​

A young couple have been madly in love for years—but here’s the problem: she’s rich, he’s penniless, and her family’s apathy towards him has split them apart. But after a mutual friend invites them both to his wedding, they get a second chance at making things right.

good intentions ( sionnacha (orphan_account) )

His fingers find the buttons of her blouse, quickly undoing them as she sits astride—thighs strong and warm alongside his torso. He palms her stomach then, fingers dancing over the solid muscle and the softness of her small breasts.

“Anything for you,” he breathes, eying her over like he can’t get enough, fingers finally coming to rest on the jut of her hips. “Anything.”

Home Is In Your Arms ( miikasaa )

Eren's been out of town for almost two months, and Mikasa's missed him desperately the whole time. When Mikasa can't sleep one night close to Eren's return, she calls him, not expecting the innocent conversation to change into something heavy, or to work her up even more.

I'll Fight Away All of Your Fears ( Kookimunjoo )

Mikasa sat up, panting and quivering. When she registered her surroundings she gave a sigh and wiped at her sweaty forehead. 'It was just a dream...just a nightmare...that would never happen.' she consoled herself in her head, laying back down. 'Eren would never hurt me.'

Love Me Harder ( Kookimunjoo )

She wasn't all that supple, his mind noted as he mapped her with the rough, calloused pads of his fingertips. Her body was scarred and toned and hardened by the life of a soldier. And yet - more so when she mewled and writhed and whined beneath him - all her curves felt as soft and as plush as any man usually fantasized of.

Minuet ( greenmeadow (byzinha) ) @breakthestrutura​

They could slow-dance to this minuet forever.

My Strange Addiction ( ackermansheart ) @ackermansheart​

A collection of unconnected one-shots and drabbles that take Mikasa and Eren through various universes and stories.

Not Over Yet ( dialectus ) @dialectus​

Two torn ex-lovers grow to rekindle old flames once their paths recross, after nearly six years of learning how to live without each other.

Pale Gold ( masserect )

Mikasa lies on her stomach on the bed, her skin glowing pale gold in the flickering lamplight, her thick, dark hair fanning out on the mattress. Shadows dance across every line and curve of her lean, strong body, but she has turned her head away from the light, her face hidden by dark hair and darker shadows. Silent, waiting for him.

paradox ( sionnacha )

Eren is nearly silent, and for once, she is glad.

He is under her—pliant, sweat gathering on his brow and the base of his neck, mouth agape with quiet gasping breaths as she fucks him; a hand planted squarely in the centre of his chest as she drives her hips forward.

Restless ( Kookimunjoo )

Those beautiful eyes turn in her direction, and she starts when she realizes he's looking at her. His lip quirks up and his face morphs into this smug, knowing expression that makes her blush. "What are you looking at?" he teases, "See something you like?" he nudges her gently and she giggles.

"Yes, actually..." her voice forms the words before she can really think about saying them, and both their eyes widen.

Scars Deeper Than Love ( misswongs )

After a tragedy that changed their lives forever, Mikasa is sold to a geisha house at her thirteen-years old being separated from the kid she spent her whole life with, Eren Jaeger, only to be reunited ten years later, testing the strength of their love and reopening past wounds.

sneak out ( mikasuhdude ) @mikasuhdude

It’s initially gentle, chaste intention behind the kiss, but when he opens his mouth a little more, pushes a little deeper as his jaw goes slack and she lets out a gentle hum in response, a fire ignites in him. She tastes sweet, tastes like summertime.

Take & Give ( calily ) @calily

Eren has never really understood what Mikasa's feelings mean, or what she wants. In a moment of intimacy, she gets to show him.

they say love is in the air (so I hold my breath) ( Nakimochiku )

Mikasa's allowed to want this, to want to make sure he's okay.

Touch ( FenroarGreyfront ) @fengreyfront​

"[...] When this is all over. When we take it all back. What do you want?"

"...I don't know if it's something you could give me."

A nearly fatally wounded Mikasa is tended to by a guilt-ridden Eren. The task leads to a conversation and chain of events that throws the nature of their relationship into question.

Validation ( FenroarGreyfront ) @fengreyfront​

'You left me.' Her skin is warm under his tongue and soft beneath his fingertips, each restrained whimper that escapes her lips flaring his ego like sweet, sweet revenge.

when i was a child there were no crows ( artsycat )

The calm stillness lulls into the background, and there is nothing left to say. Eventually, Mikasa knows, he will talk because there are still reasons as to why he’s brought her here. But she finds she does not mind this quietness. Comfortable and almost peaceful. It will not last though, it hardly ever does. This is the calm before the storm she’s heard so much about, and just like the distant roars of the ocean, this storm thunders and rumbles across a faraway sky, making its way here, wherever here may be.

“I missed you.” He says, breaking the silence. Softer, almost like a whisper, he adds, “I dreamt of you.”

When She Feels Herself Weak ( Kookimunjoo )

Mikasa didn't usually do this, they didn't usually. She was pushy, more so than he'd ever seen her, and when she tugged on his shirt, fingers itching to dig beneath the fabric, he knew they'd be going all the way.

#eremika #tbd #fanfiction #writing

[jumbojamba47]

Guest Room

A/N: This is my very first fanfic and I really don't know what possessed me to write it. I was listening to this song https://open.spotify.com/track/4RzHA75rhs3mXnoI4aJSMt?si=sSeaV0zAQgGuteRzEOiZJw and the idea just wouldn’t leave me alone and well... desperate times, desperate measures. Taking things into my own hands and all that jazz. I highly recommend giving the song a listen while reading. I hurt my own feelings writing this. I wrote this from a female perspective but it can be read as gender neutral.  (image not mine)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Slight Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Stucky 

Warnings:18+, Angst, NSFW-ish, Alcohol Consumption, Swearing, Unedited

Word Count: 3680

A sharp gasp fills the air as heated skin meets cold tile. Slender fingers curl and uncurl; tugging at your scalp from above. Your name reverently whispered through kiss-swollen lips as if in prayer. Muffled grunts and moans escape from clenched teeth as though afraid that any louder sound might halt your ministrations. Rivulets of water, long-since gone cold, rush down your bodies, pooling where you knelt in worship of the red-headed angel in front of you. Despite the ache in your limbs and your own needs screaming for attention, you remained steadfast in your determination to push Natasha over the edge as many times as you were able. You knew, these private moments of intimacy were the closest you could ever get to keeping the elusive beauty in your arms tethered to you.

It all started with a mission in Bogotá. The two of you had completed the objective but had to wait for extraction overnight in a safehouse with one master room and a smaller guestroom.

“You can go ahead and have the bigger room (y/n/n). Odin knows you did most of the heavy lifting this time around,” she said with a chuckle as she stepped into the guest room.

“There’s a big enough bed, you could always join me Romanoff,” you joked with a wink.

Later that night you were unwinding in bed when you heard a knock on your door.

“Coming!” You yelled, pulling the door open.

“Need someth-” your eyes widened as you felt soft lips meld against your own.

She pulled away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, bewildered.

“Taking you up on your offer,” she pushes you towards the bed with a cheeky grin.

That was 6 months ago. Since then, you felt a subtle shift in your relationship with Natasha. Whilst around the others her interactions with you drifted towards a platonic aloofness that, while not cold, alluded to nothing of the times you found yourself unceremoniously shoved into a supply closet or pressed into a locked conference room door; always faced with an eager red-head ready to pick up where you last left off. Each time, your hidden trysts end just as quickly as they begin with Natasha immediately straightening her appearance and slipping out the door as soon as she made sure the coast was clear. Each time, you felt your heart crack a little more as you felt the phantom weight of her lithe body in your arms as you stood alone watching her quick movements.

Now you find yourself kneeling on the floor of the assassin’s shower after she dragged you in following a heavy morning training session. Your hands grip the back of toned thighs as the burning in Natasha’s core reaches its crescendo.

Through the open door leading into her bedroom, you hear F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice ring out, “Mr. Stark is requesting your presence to go over tonight’s details in 30 minutes, Ms. Romanoff.”

Breathless, chest heaving, she responds, “I’ll be there.”

Rising from the floor, your arms circle around her to reach for the removable showerhead while steadily supporting the still shuddering woman. You gently maneuver the water to rinse away the last of the soap and lingering fluids from both your bodies. It was only in these quiet moments after a rendezvous in a more private setting that Natasha allowed you to indulge in your more tender proclivities without protest as she settles down from her high. You shut the water off before swiftly stepping out and wrapping a towel around your body. You grab a secondary towel and take more care in drying off Natasha’s body, pressing into her skin ensuring you gently knead her sore muscles with firm hands as you go. Once satisfied, you wrap her body snugly, bring your arms around her back and beneath her legs and carry her into her room, lightly setting her on the edge of her bed before moving to her closet. Turning your head slightly to ask what she’d like to wear, you think you see a flicker of something soft in her eyes, but, just as quickly, it’s gone only to be replaced by a teasing smirk as her eyes trail up and down your towel-clad form.

“Keep treating me like this and I might just have to make you mine,” she husks out.

“I wish you would…,” you mumble under your breath. But the assassin catches it and lets out a sigh. She stands and smoothly pads closer to you laying a hand on your shoulder.

“You know I can’t.”

“I really don’t.”

She steps away from you. Her hand drops to her side as she moves to rummage in her closet. You move to grab your own day clothes from your discarded gym bag. Dropping the towel to pull on a matching set of black lace undergarments, she turns to you. And fuck, it’s not fair of her to stand there underdressed as she is when you want to have a serious conversation with her.

“This?” her finger points between you and her, “is just casual sex. We’re scratching an itch and it can’t be more than that.”

“But why not?” you ask as your pull on your shirt.

“Why are you so afraid to give us a try?”

She slams her drawer shut. “I’m not afraid of anything!” she growls.

“You? Me? We’re nothing. There is nothing to try. You’re a good fuck (y/l/n) but that’s all this can be. If you’re not satisfied with that then tough shit, I’m sorry.”

Jaw clenched; you look her in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” you grit out.

You grip your bag tightly and exit the room without looking back. Carelessly, you toss your bag into your room down the hall without breaking your stride. Pausing at the end of the hallway, “Shit,” you exhale under your breath, running a hand down your face.

You make your way into the common room only to find Steve and Bucky staring at the large flat screen in confusion, a cartoon depiction of a sea sponge competing with a starfish, seemingly attempting to win the affections of his grandmother? Or was that an anthropomorphic cookie? With a heavy sigh you plop yourself down on the couch between them, kicking your legs up onto Steve’s lap and laying your head in Bucky’s. Cool metal fingertips softly run along your temples in a soothing massage as both men turn to you in mildly concerned curiosity.

Upon release from Shuri’s custody, Bucky found himself immediately accosted by you and your self-appointment as the one in charge of his rehabilitation into polite society. Refusing to leave his side outside of mandatory missions, Steve, by default, wound up lumped into your “educational excursions” and “lessons in everything a modern person of refined taste-no-fuck-you-Tony-your-opinion-doesn’t-count-you-raised-yourself-on-a-steady-diet-of-debauchery-and-sin would enjoy”. The prolonged exposure to your generally sunny disposition led to both men silently agreeing to adopt you under their wing; and so, your Brooklyn Boys became fiercely protective over you, often drawing comparisons of co-parenting mother hens hovering over their tiny chick from your amused teammates.

“Why the sigh, malen’kiy d’yavol?” grunts Bucky.

You stare blankly at the ceiling as Steve gently rubs circles around your ankle with his thumb. Turning your head to bury your face into the ex-soldier’s warm stomach, a muffled “Am I unlovable?” leaves your mouth in a broken whisper.

Your quiet words are picked up by their enhanced hearing and they share quick perturbed glances. Bucky moves his arm under you, pulling you into his lap, drawing you close, ensuring your head is tucked securely into his neck just below his chin. Steve moves with him so he can maintain a comforting hold on your legs over his.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you doll. If anyone is worthy of love it’s you,” Steve tells you with confidence.

“I’m gonna kill Romanoff,” you hear Bucky grumble under his breath to Steve, thinking you couldn’t hear him.

Your fingers clench around the pocket of Bucky’s sweater. Your boys knew. Of course they did. You couldn’t hide your affection for the Black Widow from them if you tried. While the others might be able to write off your attention to the stunning Venus as simple admiration for a fellow teammate, they knew just how deeply your true feelings ran.

“Then why doesn’t she want me?” Tears gather at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

Steve exhales slowly and looks back to the screen in front of him.

“No one really knows what’s going on in that head of hers, but your happiness is our priority right now. You deserve the world and if she can’t see that then that’s her loss,” he nudges his boyfriend.

Arms tightening around you, Bucky nods his head in agreement.

“The old man is right. How about the three of us go take your mind off things?” Slowly standing, he pulls you up to your feet.

“You can help me find Steve an outfit for tonight. I’m sure with a little convincing, we can get the Star-spangled Man with a Plan to wear a patriotic tie the whole night.” He winks at you as you let out a small snort.

“Go ahead. Laugh it up. One of these days you’re going to need to know something about war bonds and we’ll see who’s laughing then,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes.

xxxx

Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you adjusted the sleeveless button-up with detached cuffs, leaving enough buttons undone to reveal a plunging neckline, before tucking it into your high-waisted form-fitting black pants. In a bid to pull yourself out of your funk, you decided to go all out for tonight’s festivities. You slip on a pair of black shoes, give your outfit one final check, nodding to yourself, and make your way out the door.

Tonight, Tony saw fit to throw a good luck party for your first long-term recon mission with you leading your own team before you left the next morning. As you made your way to the large gathering you steeled yourself for the impending emotions that would inevitably hit you as soon as you saw the face that had been plaguing your dreams nearly every night since that fateful mission.

“Eyes up, (y/l/n). You’re made of stronger stuff than this. If she doesn’t want you then don’t waste your time. You’re worth more than this,” you say to yourself as you stride towards the double doors.

You straighten your shoulders, draw yourself up to your full height, and confidently step into the gathering.

“There she is! The hero of the hour! Give it up for our very own (y/hero/n).” Tony struts towards you; your favorite drink already outstretched in his hand.

He claps you in the back and slings an arm over your shoulders leading you towards the crowd as you hear cheers from the party goers in attendance.

“Soak it up buttercup. All this is for you. Feels good doesn’t it?”

Your eyes drift to the side where you see Natasha in a black cocktail dress flirting with another attendee, her eyes glance at you before turning her attention back to her companion. You swallow the sharp sting of pain threatening to rise and mentally give yourself a shake.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time Tony, let’s party!” you exclaim with more enthusiasm than you can bring yourself to feel.

He gives you his biggest grin, “Now that’s what I like to hear!”

He steers you through the crowd, you both pause to greet various members of the party as you recognize your friends and coworkers before leading you to Steve and Bucky who are seated on a pair of loungers across from Wanda and Rhodey.

“Hey Mama Bear, Papa Bear, here’s little Baby Bear. Make sure you keep an eye on them. I saw more than a few vultures in the crowd who looked ready to steal them away at a moment’s notice.” He sauntered away with a wink.

“Looking good dollface,” Steve grins at you.

Bucky and Rhodey are quick to agree. Across the way you see Wanda raking her eyes up and down your body with hooded lids. Making eye contact, you wink, she blushes at being caught before sending you a shy smile.

As the night goes on and drinks are consumed, you continue to laugh with your friends. You’ve moved to the opposite couch next to Wanda as Rhodey takes up the space in the middle of your group to reenact the night Tony, black out drunk, stumbled into the RA’s room instead of their shared dorm back in college.

Unable to hold yourselves up from laughing so hard, you and Wanda lean into each other for support.

Suddenly the main light dim and colorful strobe lights fill the room. You feel a heavy bass begin the thump through your chest and a drunken Wanda yells, “I LOVE THIS SONG!” She leans into your side and whispers “come dance with me,” into your ear.

Grinning widely, you nod your head and let yourself be pulled up and led to the dance floor amid cheers and wolf whistles from your friends. Immediately spinning around, Wanda presses her backside against your front, slowly dragging her hands up and into your hair. You lean forward, your hands finding a comfortable grip on her hips, pulling her closer, guiding her movements.

Across the room, Natasha watches you grind together, her jaw clenches. She throws back another shot. Behind the bar, Clint shifts his eyes from her angry form to you.

“You know, if you really like them that much you might want to head over there and stake your claim.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Tasha. I’d like to think I know you better than most.”

She gives him a quirk of an eyebrow and her best side-eye.

“Okay so I may have been crawling through the vents when I saw you all but crawling up their body like it’s a ladder in Conference Room A,” he huffs out with a roll of his eyes.

She stiffens.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“I think it does. Now, I don’t know why you’re trying to pretend like I don’t catch you staring at them whenever you think no one else is looking. But are you going to go over there and get what’s yours or are you just going to sit here and watch them fall into the arms of someone else?”

“They’re not my anything,” she mumbles into her glass, “They’re a big kid. They can decide to screw whoever They want.”

Clint shakes his head but says nothing more. They both watch as Wanda turns in your arms, wrapping her own around your neck, slotting her leg between yours, drawing even closer. Growing bold, she begins to press kisses along your neck leading up to your ear. You tilt your head back giving her further access as you continue to move to the rhythm.

“You know, she’s assigned to go on that mission with (y/n). With an undetermined timeline, who knows how long she’ll have to make (y/n) her-”

With a loud clink, Natasha throws back her last shot and slams it down on the countertop. Without giving Clint a chance to finish his sentence, Natasha finds herself pushing through the crowd towards you and Wanda. She’s a woman on a mission as she wraps her hand around your arm pulling you from Wanda’s grasp and without looking back, she drags you towards her room. She ignores your protests as she kicks her door open before pushing you against the wall and pressing her lips to yours in a heated kiss.

Stunned, your lips move against hers before your alcohol addled brain catches up to what’s happening. Your hands find her shoulders as you gently push her away and make space between the two of you. Confusion clouds your features as she hungrily stares at you while hastily slipping down the straps of her dress.

“Nat? What the fuck?”

“Shut up,” she growls, before attacking your lips again.

“No,” comes out of your mouth in a muffled groan. You push her away harder this time.

“What the hell are you doing?” You stare at her incredulously.

“I’m trying to have a little fun before you take off. What? Are you waiting for a formal invitation?”

You scoff in disbelief. “No. No no no. I’m not doing this with you Natasha.”

“Doing what?” She stares at you with furrowed brows.

“This! This fucked up charade of you claiming you don’t have any feelings for me!”

“I don’t! We’re just friends who like to have a little fun sometimes, (y/n/n).”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think I’m stupid or are you just blind?! Friends don’t look at each other the way I look at you! Friends don’t get jealous when they see their “friend” with someone else then proceed to drag them away to stake their claim!” You’re beyond angry. Sick of feeling like a yoyo constantly tugged up and down and thrown away in boredom.

“Well what do you want me to say?”

“TELL ME I MEAN SOMETHING TO YOU! TELL ME THAT EVERY MINUTE I SPEND PRAYING TO ANYONE WHO’LL HEAR ME FOR EVEN AN IOTA OF YOUR AFFECTION ISN’T A WASTE OF BREATH!” Tears are streaming down your face. You bite back a sob as you draw your arms around yourself in a protective hold.

“Tell me you feel the same way I do,” you whisper as your voice cracks.

Tears in her own eyes, “I can’t,” Natasha exhales without making eye contact.

Slowly, you nod.

“Okay.”

Your eyes trace over her face one last time.

You turn and as she hears your footsteps head towards the door, her head snaps up.

“Where are you going?” She rushes out with hesitation coating her voice.

“I’m leaving.”

She reaches out a hand, but you step away.

Undeterred, “No, stay we can still talk things out as friends.” She implores.

Coldly, you make eye contact.

“You made it perfectly clear this morning, Natasha. We’re nothing.”

She chokes on a whimper.

With a stiff nod you exit her room and with a slam of her door, you’re gone.

       Unbeknownst to you, Natasha drops to her knees.

xxxx

You head down the hall angrily wiping the tears away from your eyes. You refuse to spare any more of your heart for someone who clearly couldn’t care less whether or not it breaks.

Trying to hold on to Natasha feels like attempting to cup smoke in your bare hands. A fruitless endeavor. You were never one to bet on a losing game.

You swing your door open only to be met with Steve and Bucky grinning and ready to help you pack for your mission and rib on you about your impending time with Wanda.

Their smiles immediately drop when they take in your tear-stained face. Both men rush to your side and draw you into their arms, holding you between them. Your boys could feel their hearts shatter as they listened to your broken stops. If the sound of your cries could hurt them this much, they couldn’t fathom how you yourself were feeling.

“We’re here, Kroshka, what do you need?”

You whimpered and buried yourself further into their hold.

“That’s enough,” you sniffled.

After a moment, you pulled away drawing yourself together.

“I’m done with her,” you state.

They both nod.

“When you’re back, we’ll make sure you never have to be alone with her again,” Steve asserts with a nod of finality.

You send them both a grateful look as they begin to help you gather everything you’ll need to last at least 2 months.

xxxx

It’s early morning when Clint finds Natasha in the gym Sweat drips down from her hairline as she takes out every emotion she refuses to acknowledge on the innocent training dummy.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in the hangar sending off your new boo with a kiss?”

“Not my anything,” she grunts, punctuated with a roundhouse kick to the dummy’s jugular.

“You literally pulled a scene from a rom-com out of your ass, dragging (y/l/n) away from their own party AND your rival in love, and they’re STILL not yours?” He levels her with his most disapproving, disappointed dad stare.

“Fuck off Clint, I’m not in the mood.”

“Well a little birdy told me that Wanda is extra excited for this chance to ask (y/n) on a proper date after they’re back”

“Not my problem. If they want to open their legs to the first person that offers, let them.”

“Wow. Harsh. What happened?”

She delivered a sharp jab to the dummy’s solar plexus.

“They said we’re nothing.”

“That couldn’t have come from nowhere.”

She pauses her movements and looks away.

“I told them we’re nothing.”

“Nat…”

“They deserve better, Clint,” her voice wobbles.

“You deserve happiness too Tasha. You deserve them.” He pulls her into a tight hug.

Her eyes clench shut attempting to keep her tears at bay.

“I fucked up… didn’t I?”

“Yeah… you really did,” he looks up at the ceiling and sighs.

“Quinjet leaves in 5. If you hurry you should still be able to catch them.

She immediately takes off and he watches the door swing shut behind her.

“Go get ‘em, kid. We’re rooting for ya.”

xxxx

Almost running past the hangar doors, Natasha skids to a stop and pushes her way into the room.

She ignores the technicians yelling for her to clear the runway as she breaks into a sprint towards where she hears the sound of supplies being loaded onto a quinjet.

With an energy boost fueled by a fear she never knew she could feel, she speeds around the corner, drawing in a breath ready to scream your name.

Only to come to a stop.

She’s too late.

The jet pushes off the ground for takeoff.

She falls to her knees.

A broken whimper escapes her lips.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #nr angst

[tokoyamisstuff]

Oneshot: Substance - Bucky x Reader

Summary: After stumbling upon certain things on your boyfriends phone, your self-esteem drops below zero.

Warnings: Self-hatred, Angst, Fatshaming, kinda Self-Harm (like withdrawal, not eating enough and overly excessive sport), one or two Swear Words.

Words: ~2900

A/N: Didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so this has been written in an hour without proof-reading. please have mercy with my soul

“Heya, sweetie-pie. Mind giving me the usual?”

There he was, 12 o’clock as usual. Bucky was leaning over the counter and staring at you with his piercing blue eyes.

He gave you a wink as he shoved the money over the counter, looking around the small but full diner. It was always that crowded at this time of the day.

“Come on, you doofus. You know it’s on me” you chuckled as you pressed the coins back in his hand, relishing at his warmth for a brief second before stepping back.

It has become a ritual to prepare his favourite on almost every single day, even though he claimed to love everything on your menu. His therapist once told him that a certain routine would help him adapt to society again, and he stuck to it pretty closely.

And visiting your restaurant was an important part of his day.

“Do you think we can spend the evening?” Your boyfriend was sipping on his coffee, eyes lighting up when you finally got him his piece of plum pie with whipped cream.

When you watched him eating it in almost one bite, you kind of admired him for being able to eat basically anything without gaining weight. But well, on the other hand, training and fighting were his daily bread, so it was no wonder those calories would be burned like it was nothing.

“Gosh, delicious as always” Bucky mumbled and you couldn’t surpress a quiet laugh at your dork while you were serving another customer. “And I mean you in that dress, not the food. Love your style.”

You usually avoided to fuel his stupid way of flirting, no matter how flattered you felt anyway. So you simply changed the topic. “Dunno. Might get late. Today seems to be very profitable.”

It was just wonderful how understanding Bucky was. Well, he knew he was a piece of work as well. Why should he be mad if you were sucessfull anyway?

So he just shrugged with a wide grin as he handed you over the empty plate, saying “Well, then I’ll tidy up the flat until you’re done. Guess who’s gonna get a back rub when they’re back home?”

“Sounds like a Netflix and Cuddle evening?”

“Everything you want, doll.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing you weren’t all that comfortable with PDA - at least at work. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

“You’re never bothering me.” Smirking, you admired the way his muscles bulged through his sleeveless top. “Distracting is a far better word.”

He won’t comment on your statement, rather winking at you and mumbling something like “You just wait until later...” as he already rushed out of the entrance.

Six hours later you were finally able to end your twelve hour shift and close the restaurant almost on time - well...plus the few customers who came about five minutes before closure, and having to clean up the mess you’d always leave behind when cooking as quick as possible.

“I’m home, darlin’!” you cheered as you threw your bag into a corner and got rid of your shoes.

Seems like he was in the shower, at least he yelled something like ‘having something for you when he’s done’.

Well, if the surprise was something cute or nasty - you’d have no problem with either one.

“Hey, babe!” his voice called you out of the bathroom. “Can you look up when we made the reservation for cinema? I made a screenshot from the booking confirmation.”

He’d always ask for that kind of stuff in the weirdest situations. Probably because he knew he’d forget it otherwise.

“Alright.” His smartphone was placed on the nightstand, as usually. It was a miracle that he learned to use it that quickly, but on the other hand he’d always been very invested with new technology.

The two of you had no secrets. And even if: Taking each others cellphones wouldn’t really tell you something you didn’t already know about each other, so it had never been a no-go to use the others phone.

You sat down on the edge of the bed after throwing your sweat-soaked and stained clothes into the basket, wishing Bucky would hurry up so you could clean up and enjoy some hot water.

Scrolling through his picture folder, you hummed a happy little song, already wondring what you’d do on your day off tomorrow.

James is still pretty awkward in todays society, but hell he knew how to treat a woman. And dates were his speciality.

“I can’t fi-” Your words turned into a loud gasp as you saw the preview image of a seemingly naked woman. Shocked, even though you felt bad for prying instead of trusting your partner, you klicked on it to see the whole picture.

It was exactly what you thought it was. That sort of picture drunk elderly men would send each other in Whatsapp Groups.

A beautiful woman, only wearing a thong and presenting it in a - let’s call it ‘seductive’ pose.

And the worst of all was the headline, floating above the models face:

“The Perfect Woman”

This was not the only pic of some sort - you found a dozen of it, videos as well.

Disgusting was the only thing that came to your mind.

Not the woman, though. You were not one to slut-shame anyway.

But a feeling of disgust came up when you layed down the phone and went to the mirror, watching yourself closely. And for the first time, you were not satisfied with what you were seeing.

Sure, you’ve always been kind of chubby. But up until now you’ve never doubtet your beauty.

Curves were always something beautiful to you, even though you had to admit that some days, you were asking yourself why you had to be the only one of your friends who had that hard cellulite and stretch marks.

Maybe if you’d already have kids or were older, you’d be fine with it, but...

On the other hand, your friends would admire the fact that you had bigger breasts and a ‘peach ass’, as they’d call it.

Your mother used to call it ‘atomar boobs’ and ‘birth-enthusiastic hips’, always making you laugh about how self-ironic she was. But on the inside you knew how much she was struggling as well.

There were so many forms of beauty, and you loved every single one of it - including your own. But now..

“Ugly” you told yourself again and again, while trying to find a suitable pose that didn’t make you look like a small, wobbly piece of fat.

Did the opinion of a man really matter more to you than your own? Now you also felt kind of pathetic.

Actually, you were just hurt. Of him not being honest, and obviously searching for something...you didn’t want to say ‘better’, but rather ‘different’ than you.

As former Winter Soldier, he might not be that popular, but his looks sure did the trick anyway. So why not searching for a thin woman if he loves them so much?

Or does he already know them? What if those were not mere pictures, but woman he actually contacted?

The thought alone made you tear up.

You’ve tried. Your whole life you did and he knew that.

It’s a problem you’ve been struggling for your whole youth, after all.

No matter how much sport or diets you tried out, your body just wouldn’t change. Even after you’ve got diagnosed with hypothyreosis, the medication would only do so much as prevent further weight gain.

Things got a lot easier when you were grown up, and the bullies would decrease.

You learned to love yourself, and realized that many people were into exactly your kind of body-type. After finding your own style and way of living, things became so much easier and you could finally be yourself.

“Heya, there” a familiar voice snickered behind your back, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

The only reaction Bucky would gain was a pained groan, yet you didn’t dare to make a scene just yet. You wanted him to take the hints and be honest with you, that was what you had decided.

“Didn’t find the picture. Go look yourself.”

With that said, you’d walk straight past him and towards the bathroom. It took you quite a while to cry to your hearts extend, sobs being deafened by the pattering sounds of the shower.

You wrapped a towel around yourself, but when you saw your reflection again as you put on some lotion, you decided to wear the bathrobe.

No matter how you moved, you felt like some fat would always wiggle or roll up somehow - and Bucky felt your discomfort as soon as you greeted him with a twisted face.

“C’mon here, babydoll. We can talk.” He patted the spot right next to him on the bed, and goddamn it was just too unfair how he was posing there on the mattress, looking like a fucking adonis compared to you.

The very second you stiffly layed down next to him, you felt his hand slip under your bathrobe and squeeze your thigh, making you gasp.

“Maybe I can cheer you up otherwise before we talk...” he breathed into your ear, adding a bittersweet “I missed you.”

“Bucky, please. I’m tired.” Perfect. You managed to get that sentence out without your voice cracking once. Now you just needd to turn around and wrap yourself in your comforter before he’d see the tears in your eyes.

You didn’t want him - or anyone else - to touch you ever again.

“O-okay...” James stuttered, already reaching out his hand to touch your shoulder. But in the end, he retreated it, realizing you needed some time for yourself. “Imma be at the sofa if you need me.”

“Or tell me what the fuck is wrong all of a sudden...” He kept himself from saying that.

The following days were the hardest ones yet to come - for both of you.

It all started with you declining all offers from friends to go swimming or visiting some food-places, slowly but steadily withdrawing you from the happy, active life you’ve built up out of anger and shame.

You had grown quite distant as time passed, at first finding any kind of excuse for intimacy, and afterwards not even bearing any kind of physical contact. Not to speak of simple and carefree talking...

The air had become strained around the two of you, but Bucky was too afraid to ask you what was wrong.

Instead of letting off some steam through work as always, you took a few weeks off. It wasn’t like you needed the money anyway, looking at how successfull your work was.

Your restaurant, even though being more of a small diner, had been on the top of New Yorks most popular ones for years. And you were damn proud of it.

Bucky would always say you’re the only one who cooks just like home, and meanwhile you knew all of his favourite dishes.

An unconscious smile ghosted your lips when you thought back to the day where Bucky would go all Winter Soldier on a dude that made fun of you for being “a wandering cliché: a fat woman running a kitchen”. Ouch.

You didn’t go on vacation those days - there was different work to do.

Actually, you liked sports. For fun, that is. Like going to swim with your friends, or going for a walk. Sometimes visiting the gym, even. To you, it was more part of a healthy lifestyle instead of a competition for appreciation.

But now, things were different. You tried to built up your confidence again through secretly visiting the Avengers training rooms - yet to no avail.

Steve kindly offered you help with any certain training, but you declined. This was something you wanted to achieve yourself.

As if that would change anything about your feeling of betrayal...

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after almost falling off the treadmill, having to use the emergency turn-off. Even though many people assumed it, you weren’t really unfit. But those past days, you’ve just overloaded yourself through excessive training and eating almost nothing.

You kneeled down, desperately trying to catch your breath. Looking down, you saw your bruised knuckles from punching the bag earlier and thinking of that damn beautiful woman on Buckys cellphone.

If only you would have the courage to talk this through with him...but you were afraid of the outcome. Of the truth.

Knowing you were all alone on the floor, you finally gave in to your emotions, huddling to a fetal curl and starting to sob over your deadlocked situation.

“Y/N?”

Dear god no - it was Bucky. What was he doing here? It was not his usual training time!

On the other hand: What else did he have to do in his free-time, now that the other Avengers are on a mission and his girlfriend is avoiding him at all costs?

Actually, he wanted to let off some steam as well. But seeing you like this swung his mood in an instant, and he aided you immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” There was genuine compassion in his voice, sorrow even. As if it was his fault.

He was kneeling right next to you, and for the first time in two weeks, you wouldn’t flinch at his touch. “Let me help you...”

“You don’t need to play anymore, James” you whimpered, slapping his hand away. “Just get this over with.”

Now you’ve got him mad. “What the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this, Y/N?!” he screamed and his metal fist would meet the floor, cracking it broken.

“I know damn well I’m far from the perfect boyfriend...” Bucky began to sniffle, still clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I thought you’d love me as I am.”

“You’re one to talk.” Fuck it, now that you seemingly screwed up anyway you could talk freely. “I’ve seen the photos, Bucky. Of the perfect woman. Many of them. Seems like you prefer something not remotely close to me.”

For a while, there was only silence.

Bucky dug his face deep into his palms, as if he wanted to disappear in them - or simply to facepalm in a pretty weird way.

“Doll, is that what all this is about?”

His reaction made you feel kinda strange. “Y-yeah.” Did you overreact?

“You know I don’t possibly know her. Don’t care about her or her body either.” He sat there, cross-legged and with a face as dark as your heart had been those past weeks.

“Then why do you keep a ton of photos of naked models on your phone?!” You jumped onto him, effectively knocking him over and pinning him on the floor. Out of a whim, you wanted to run away, but he trapped you in his hold.

“Gosh, why can’t you talk to me for once?” It almost sounded like he found it funny. “You’re usually one to be upfront about everything.”

A sole tear escaped every eye, but Bucky would catch them with his thumb.

“Sam sent them to me. We have that Whatsapp-Group, and he’s simply that single, horny dude that finds that kind of stuff funny. You know I never delete anything. I have over 5000+ photos on that shit phone.”

You were stunned, looking at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve know you’d stumble across them eventually. But you were always so confident and strong, the thought of it bothering you never crossed my mind.”

“Y-you-” Gosh, what a fucking idiot you were. “You’re not at fault, Buck! I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now.”

“And I thought you wanted to leave me...” he murmured, mainly to himself.

“Wha- how could I ever?! You’re the love of my life! Why else do you think your opinion matters this much to me? Look where we are right now!”

“And you know that the beauty-standarts of the 40s are exactly what you look like, right?”

The situation changed so drastically, it left both of you in boisterous laughter.

When you finally catched your breath, holding your thummy at how much you laughed, Bucky would not give you a break - rather cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips onto his.

“Look” he breathed out calmly, his cheek barely brushing yours. “I feel stupid for even saying this, but: My girl doesn’t have to be a model. Beauty is a concept, dear. Everyone pictures something else when they think of it. And I think of you.”

You had already snuggled up onto his chest as he swiftly picked you up, your ear able to sense his heartbeat. Absentmindedly running your hand over his prosthetic one, you realized that you were not the only one who was self-conscious about their appearance.

But just like you never doubted the true beauty of your lover, neither did he.

“Y/N...You’re strong and smart and kind. No one had ever touched my heart the way you did. That’s all that counts.”

_______

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#Bucky x Reader #Bucky x You #Bucky/Reader #Bucky/You #BuckyxReader #BuckyxYou #Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Barnes #White Wolf #Marvel #Avengers #Self Insert #Chubby! Reader #Fanfiction

[redwritinghood]

Hi! If you're still taking prompts, u would love outsider pov of laurent and damen during kings rising and right after!! From any citizen if vere or akielos, nikandros, makedon, council or anyone else

Opening the word doc for this was like getting out a ouija board and hoping someone would speak to me. 

Lazaar-

Several feet of green grass was the only barrier between the Akielons and Veretians. Jord and Huet stood at the edge of the gap with folded arms and watched as the Akielons set up camp. Lazaar joined them leaning against a post. Jord glared silently. He hadn’t been the same since Ravenel. No one blamed him, but he was far less easy-going and there was a much more palpable disdain directed towards the Akelons. Or maybe just one in particular.

Lazaar had never been this close to so many. The prince’s slave was the most time any of them had spent with an Akielon. If he had decided to turn on them it may have taken ten or fifteen of them to hold the giant down, but eventually, they would have managed. Now there were hundreds of the barbarians. 

Was there a cloth shortage in Akielos? There was little left to the imagination. A younger one walked by, his chest bare, only a small wrapping around his hips. Lazaar, with fingers between his teeth, whistled a catcall. The Akielon turned, his large puppy-dog eyes found Lazaar. He blushed. The dark skin turned ruddy. He quickly looked away and hurried off. Huet laughed at the response and shouted after the young Akielon. Lazaar was surprised. It hadn’t been the reaction he expected and he watched the Akielon until he was no longer in sight.

Nikandros-

“If Theomedes were still here— we wouldn’t be— this would never—” Makedon trailed off and peered into his empty chalice. He groped for the wine pitcher. “Prince.” He slurred his words, “Pale and puny. Looks more like a bed slave. Bet he can’t even lift a sword.”

“I wouldn’t want him in my bed. He’d probably bite someone’s cock off.” Nikandros wasn’t nearly as intoxicated as Makedon but wished he was. He had lived with the idea that his best friend, Akielon’s rightful ruler, was dead. Finding him alive had been a short-lived relief. The Veretians had made the prince of Akielon a slave and instead of wanting revenge, Damianos had formed an alliance with them. Nikandros was certain he’d lost his mind. He even still wore the slave cuff on his wrist, as if proud. It was an insult. Nikandros’ confusion over Damen’s insanity had been quickly cleared when he’d seen the Veretian prince. Another blue-eyed blond, of course. Typically the infatuation didn’t last long. A few hours in bed, and Damen would move on. Jokaste had lasted the longest, but even she hadn’t kept Damen’s exclusive attention.

“He needs a good fucking,” Makedon slurred his words, “He’s as stiff as a statue.”

“I’ve heard he’s celibate.” Nikandros knew enough of the Veretian language that he understood what was being said about the icy prince. He hoped that was false. If Damen couldn’t bed the Veretian prince the entire Akielon nation may be doomed. There had been some satisfaction when Damen had placed a matching slave cuff on the arrogant prince during the day’s ceremony.

“Shoulda just taken the prince hostage and controlled the Veretian dogs that way.”

“You’re drunk,” Nikandros said, but privately agreed.

Pallas-

After years of training, Pallas had thought this opportunity had been taken away from him. The first time he’d seen Prince Damianos was as a young boy, too young to catch the prince’s eye. He became a soldier with the hopes of getting close to the prince. The news of his death had been heartbreaking, all of Pallas’ dreams had been swept away. Now was his chance to prove himself and make Damianos notice him.

The ceremonial games were starting soon and Pallas prepared, making his body was warm and ready. The others were excited to take out some aggression on the Veretians, all certain they stood no chance in the Akielon games. Pallas only wanted to win three times. Just three times and he could challenge Damianos. 

The whistle made him turn. He should have known better, days of the catcall and he was still gullible enough to look. Of course, it was that lanky Veretian with lecherous grin in place. Pallas turned away feeling his face warm. This was not a day to be distracted, his king was watching. 

Everything was going as planned, he had won two competitions and was stepping onto the field for the long sword competition and realized his opponent was the lanky Veretian. He looked at Pallas approached, an obvious up and down glance over his body. Pallas’ heart rate picked up. Why did this happen? It was the closest they had been. The man had a roguish handsome face, wearing scars of old battles and a confident grin. Pallas had been surprised by his opponent but was still confident in his ability.

He lost. 

It had been grueling. The Veretian barely seemed winded and had bested Pallas effortlessly, his technique was masterful and unique. He seemed to know exactly what Pallas would do while all of his attacks had been unpredictable. A different Veretian won the long sword competition. 

Despite the setback, Pallas won three events and was given the honor of challenging Damianos himself. He was no match for the raw power. Ultimately he didn’t mind the loss, he was pleased he’d been noticed and that Akielon’s ruler was so mighty. Secretly he couldn’t deny his pleasure at just being in contact with Damianos. It was a sport, but it was also, almost, something else. Something Pallas had yearned for since first seeing his future king.

Jord-

Laurent had always been difficult to read, hiding his emotions and frequently speaking in a cold sharp tone. Over the years, Jord had slowly gotten better at understanding his distant prince and could notice the subtle differences in his moods and expressions. With everything going on it was understandable that Laurent would be inconsistent. Jord had noticed the difference after Ravenel and Damen had told him that he had taken the prince to bed. He didn’t consider himself a quick-tempered man and if Laurent had shown any signs of displeasure, Jord would have been honor-bound to try and slay the Akielon.

It was after Charcy that Laurent’s temperament changed, suddenly cold towards Damen, or rather, king Damianos. Jord gritted his teeth at the thought of having to formally address the prince killer. The alliance shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Laurent would make any necessary arrangements in order to retake his throne. The ceremony, however, had made Jord’s blood boil. His prince now wore a slave cuff. The matching one to Damianos', who had lied to all of them, but more importantly had lied to Laurent. 

It was clear Laurent was unhappy. When there wasn’t some issue to take care of or some other princely duty, he remained in his tent. Alone. Jord had seen him begin to open up to the slave, they had spent a lot of time together and the prince had seemed comfortable, if not amicable. Jord was sorry Laurent was hurt, and more sorry that he possibly could have prevented it from happening. Maybe he should have told Laurent right away of his slave’s true identity, even if that meant Damen might have lost his life. 

After keeping an especially vigilant eye on the prince it became clear what was happening.  Laurent was not just lonely, he was pining. It was only obvious in the way he blatantly ignored Damen, not sparing him a glance. It made sense, in a convoluted way, that this would be Laurent’s approach. He liked to exercise his willpower, and resolutely avoiding something he wanted was an excellent way to achieve that. Damen was the opposite, nearly always watching the prince.

Everything changed at Karthas. It was obvious what had happened, but not so much why. Whether good or bad, the prince seemed happy. It was almost out of character. Jord only hoped it would last.

Paschal-

Paschal had never expected that he would need to tell Laurent to get out of another man’s bed. Ever since Damen had been wounded by his brother, Laurent hadn’t left his side, choosing to take all of his meetings, meals, and rest in the king’s bedroom. It hindered Damen’s healing process as Laurent's presence was too much of a distraction. Paschal expected this behavior from Damen, but Laurent had more self-control, or so he had thought. Months of ignoring Damen and now he wouldn’t leave him for more than a few minutes. Laurent may not have purposefully initiated anything physical but had to be aware of the temptation he posed.

One early morning, an apologetic Laurent had woken Paschal saying sheepishly that Damen’s stitches had been torn. 

They were more careful after that incident. Paschal was still unfortunate enough to frequently find them in some state of intimacy. While it didn’t bother Laurent, Damen barely had enough blood for a blush, let alone other things. Still, it warmed him to find them wrapped in the other's arms while they slept. They both deserved the rest and happiness.

#captive prince #prince laurent #damen of akielos #lamen #lazaar #pallas #I hope this is satisfactory #if not hit me up for another prompt #mywritingprompts

[heli0s-writes]

VI. In for Life*

Summary: The final installment of his enormous dumpster fire :’) Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes A/N:  NSFW! It has arrived along with a short epilogue at the end. Thanks everyone for all your love for these three bastards (and Buckeye, too!) 

Foot in Mouth Syndrome Masterpost

It’s hot.

It’s so damn hot and your back is slick with sweat.

Your eyes fly open to the stifling humidity of the dark room. A heavy hand is on your hip, lazily draped over and brushing against the soft skin of your tummy. A back is pressed against your chest, heavy breaths drawing in and out, slightly wheezing. Even atop of your feet, there is a weight.

Jesus (Steve), Mary (Bucky), and Joseph (Buckeye).

You are completely smothered by all of them. When any of you fell asleep—and when Buckeye found it appropriate to flop himself on top of it all is bewildering.

There’s not even a sheet or comforter on top anymore, both things piled on the floor like a lumpy mountain. Buckeye stirs the same time you do, opening his mouth in a squelching yawn and tipping his head back. You glare at him in the dark and uselessly wiggle your toes. “Get off!”

“Buck!” You hiss. He lolls his head sideways and flops his tongue out at you before nuzzling back down onto your ankles, setting his chin on what is probably Bucky. His butt wiggles around, trying to find a new comfortable position, legs kicking yours.

“Your fucking goblin nails! Ouch, Buck!”

Steve stirs with a moan, turning over and throwing his heavy arm over your shoulder, pressing his face into your chest with a contented sigh. It could be sexy, you think, but you’re sure that your boob-sweat is being inhaled right now straight into his lungs.

Bucky grumbles into your back, shuffling until he’s squeezing you too tightly between him and Steve.

“Are you guys awake?” You whisper, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

You release a long-suffering groan when all that responds is another one of Buckeye’s squealing yawns. You slowly pick up Steve’s arm to move it back, but it’s heavy as hell and he keeps grunting into your chest. Somnambulist pervert.

Bucky’s arm moves down, fingers slowly coming to rest on your hip and then slowly—oh hell.

“Dude.” You mutter. His fingers dig into your ass as his shoulders begin to shake behind you. This motherfucker had been awake this whole time, just watching you suffer in-between two human and one canine heater. You swat him away, but he shoves his face deeper into your neck until his breath begins to tickle. Your hands slap harder and faster, “Fuck! Stop! I’m gonna scream!”

“What time is it?” Bucky asks, pulling away with a pant, blowing his hair from his face.

“Way past when we were supposed to wake up. Steve is out, Buck.”

“Yeah he doesn’t really have a middle ground. He’s either awake or he’s dead.”

A silence passes before Bucky’s hand finds the waistband of your romper again.

“You wanna fuck?”

You slap him away with what a shriek might be if someone could do it with their mouth closed. He’s awfully bold and unfiltered now that you’ve shown him your hand and you think he’s probably not bluffing. Bucky laughs again behind you, pulling on the back of your outfit, tugging it a few times and letting it flap. You realize, with a little bit of fondness, that he’s trying to cool you off.

“C’mon.” He slips his legs out from under Buckeye, who whines in betrayal, but watches him with interest anyway. Bucky tugs you out of bed, moving Steve’s arm and pushing his face away from your chest. “Kid’s always been a tits guy.”

“Yeah. Yours are like a B-cup, huh?”

Bucky ignores you, “I like ass. You’re a pain in my ass sometimes… but I bet one of these days, I’ll be a pain in yours. Literally.”

You turn red as a beet, sputter a few times, and then just shut up for your own damn good.

“Just kidding.” Bucky continues, leading you out of the room, “It’ll be mostly pleasure. We’ll find a good balance, sweetheart.”

He traipses into the kitchen, entirely content to strut around as you close your eyes and count to a million because Bucky Barnes has just one-upped your comment so hard you have absolutely nothing else to fire back at him. You think you might swoon; you’re both proud and devastated.

It’s the middle of the night and Bucky is preparing to brew a pot of coffee. You tap him on the shoulder to suggest that it would be a bad idea, but he bites your pointer and snarls like a wild dog.

“God. Once you crack the surface, there’s so much of…this…” You gesture vaguely up and down, “Wha—wait a minute.” Your eyes narrow, “Did you just snarl at me? You don’t snarl at me; I snarl at you!”

He spends another few minutes repeating the same noise, just to get on your nerves because he knows there’s not much you can do but give him lip. Frankly, the tables have turned, and Bucky is giving you quite a run for your money when it comes to sass.

It’s kind of hot.

You watch the way his arm flexes when he reaches forward to turn the knob on the stove top. The other one rests loosely on his hip where the band of his sweatpants hang, string untied. His shirt is crumpled unevenly, one hem lower than the other as his metal fingers play with the edge absentmindedly. It’s a bit of a shock for you to realize that Bucky Barnes putting the kettle on is what gets you going.

You’ll take it, though.

You grab a glass of water and down it in three seconds flat before you do anything stupid, but when you turn around you catch him staring at your ass. So, you stare blatantly back at his tush, eyes comically wide.

“Those your bedroom eyes?” He asks, grinding the coffee beans and dumping them into the press. When the kettle begins to screech, he takes it off and fills up the carafe, tapping out five minutes on the microwave timer.

“Buck,” you call seriously, hopping up to sit on the counter, “It’s almost three—neither of us should be drinking coffee.”

“No.” He corrects, “You shouldn’t be drinking coffee. It doesn’t affect me. I just like the taste.”

“I’m gonna drink some if you drink some.”

“What are you, a lemming?”

“Yes. If you jump, I jump. If you sip the chocolate bean juice, I sip the chocolate bean juice.”

He laughs, and you do too, finding the sound of it more charming each time you hear it. God, he’s so stupidly handsome. You kick your foot out, poking his side with your toe until he shifts and slyly nestles himself in between your legs. “Stevie’s gonna get jealous.”

You seriously doubt there is any merit to that statement. If anything, you think, Steve is probably creeping around in the shadows with your dog, cheering Bucky on silently. He’s a motherfucker like that, orchestrating all of this like a horny puppeteer.

But no, really, he’s very sweet. They both are.

Leaning in, you tug Bucky forward by the collar of his shirt, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him in for a kiss. He smiles against your lips, and you’re half tempted to pull away just to get another look at it on his face; it’s something you’ll never get enough of.

His cold hand runs up the length of your spine while the other slips beneath the opening of your romper, tugging playfully on the fabric of your underwear. “You---mmmf—pervy old fuck.” He keeps on, slipping his tongue into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip when you try to pull away for air. He could smother you, and you’d let him. He’s acting like it’s his intention, anyway.

A part of you feels alleviated, as if the new intimacy has stripped everything else away. You move naturally with Bucky, running your hand through his hair, trailing your fingers over his shoulder and arm—something you were previously concerned about even bringing up. Another part of you is a bit more grounded, too.

The questions you have for them keep getting brushed off. Some things aren’t as easy as they make them seem. Certainly, this relationship won’t be?

“Don’t start this again.” Bucky murmurs, as if reading your thoughts.

“I can’t help it!” You whine. “I’ve never done this before! Nor will it ever happen again—the two of you aren’t exactly regular people, you know?”

“It better never happen again.” Bucky places both his hands on your waist, “Once you’re in, you’re in for life, kid.”

Your eyes widen when you look at him, jaw set firmly, eyes searing into yours. “We’re serious about you. So, what’s it gonna be?”

The timer beeps and he turns around to carefully push the plunger into the press, leaving you staring at the dark tresses of his head. Your heart beats in your chest like a collapsing drum, crashing down and falling apart at Bucky’s bare feet.

He pours two mugs and empties the rest into a thermos for later.

Behind the thin cover of the steam, you avert your eyes. “Y-yeah.” You mutter.

“Yeah?” Bucky takes a sip. You’re not made of super soldier, so you wait for the coffee to cool.

“Yeah. Yes.”

Bucky licks his lips and tilts his chin at you, smiling, “Drink your coffee, sweetheart. Let’s go fuck.”

--

It’s … you can’t even. That’s what being with Bucky is like.

In the cool chamber of the guest room you’ve been sleeping in, he lays you down on the mattress and taps his fingers up and down your arms until your skin crawls with goosebumps. His touches are feather-light, deliberately gentle, teasing and tugging on every last one of your stretched nerves.

No, you would have never guessed upon meeting him that he could be capable of this kind of tenderness. He was joking when he said fuck, because you are certain no part of what he will do to you is as indelicate as that word. Fuck can be reserved for another time— but this, this feels remarkably close to love.

He’s stripped down and sitting up, letting you see him as he is under the soft lamplight glow. Bucky tucks his hair behind his left ear and waits for you.

“Yeah?” He asks quietly, timid smile forming on his lips.

You sit up too, face him, and pull the straps of your outfit down until it pools around your waist. Then you lift yourself up out of it and crawl into his lap, pressing your body flush onto his.

“Yeah.” You sigh, “Yes, Bucky.” And then you can’t help but laugh just a little as you bury your face into his neck. It’s silly. “God—who would have thought?” You ask, “Us? Right now?”

He grins too, kissing your shoulder, “Thought I was going to murder you that night.”

“Yeah. I would have been fine with it as long as you took care of my dog.”

He bites the same place he just kissed. “Don’t ever. Again. Never.” The finality of his statement shuts you right up with a quick yelp with his teeth clamped down on you.

“Okay, sorry.”

“Shit sucks, but now you got us.”

“Okay.”

He nips at your neck, hand rearranging your legs until they lock in behind him. He is warm and hard, your own hands travel over the plane of his chest and around to trace the muscles of his back.

The door squeaks open slightly. Both of you turn to see Steve entering with a lazy smile, flushed pink and shirtless.

“You sleep good?” Bucky asks before he returns to your collarbone, making a trail down to your sternum.

“Mhm. See you got started without me.”

“Sorry.” Bucky responds, not sounding like it at all, “Couldn’t get ya to wake up.”

He rocks his hips up, pushing against your underwear, and you let out what sounds like a balloon on its last squeak of deflation. Steve chuckles and finds a seat behind you, flattening his palm on your lower back, urging you forward.

You should probably be nervous, but for some reason you aren’t. Steve’s hand anchors you, holds you against Bucky carefully. The three of you balance on this tightrope wire, looking over the edge down into shadows.

But there’s a net there. And when you all fall together the love will catch you.

It’s all love.

Steve kisses your back and scoots forward until his chest is pressing into your spine. His other hand pulls your panties to the side and Bucky takes the opportunity to slowly press in.

You arch forward into him, your breasts to his mouth. They’re one and the same, guiding each other, murmuring in low tones and whispers. Slowly, as they move and touch and consume you, you become the same, too, until all three of you melt into the darkness.

--

Morning arrives and pulls you awake in a jarring grip. Your back is sweaty again, completely drenched and slippery as you wiggle your way out from two naked bodies.

Steve stirs slightly, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. “Mm-uh. Stay.” He tries to convince you by pressing his torso to your side, rubbing himself against your thigh. “We can do it right here.”

Your face burns hot as Bucky groans on the other side.

“I gotta get up and do some work, Steve.” You run your hand through his hair, feeling the warmth of his scalp, “I’ll be back to wake you two. We gotta go to King’s Island today.”

He kisses the top of your head sweetly, but you have to get up or else the work will be so piled on you’ll never resurface from it.

You slip from them, leaving Steve’s grumbling behind.

 Furious clicking finds Bucky and Steve when they rise an hour later. You sit in the living room with your tablet balanced in your lap, the thermos from last night empty. They watch proudly as you flip through an enormous journal full of notes and then turn to another binder full of print-outs.

“Hey.” You say distractedly, “Pancakes and sausages’re in the oven keeping warm, I got three more exams and then we can get started.”

Buckeye is faithfully by your knee, tail tapping against the cushion at the two men in the hallway.

When they don’t move, you turn and look at them, “What’s up?”

Steve’s arms are crossed as he leans against Bucky. They share silly smiles because you’re crosslegged again and surrounded by paper and books and your fingers are moving even too fast for super soldiers to keep up with.

“Lookit her, Stevie.” Bucky grins, “Smart girl.”

You make another charming ppppffftptbbblblbppttt and roll your eyes. You know he means it but the compliment is so strange escaping his lips. It’s still new, his affection. Steve’s too, you suppose. Your cheeks flare anyway as they pad into the kitchen for breakfast.

You were sure to make precisely a bajillion blueberry pancakes this morning and a tray full of sausage links, saving just a few of each for yourself. Between reading a book and taking notes, cooking on a giant griddle and sticking sausages in an oven made the tasks relatively simple. You’ll also read and grade on the way to the park.

In the corner of your eye, Steve pokes at a fluffy stack with his fork. Bucky bites into a sausage and waggles his eyebrows. They both snort and start flicking each other off. You have to focus, but damn if they don’t make it hard to stay on track.

Spending the last two months in their presence has made little changes to your routine that you’re now thankful for. Before them, it was nothing but school and Buckeye. Hardly any time to cook or to enjoy yourself. There was nothing but monotony and the proclamation of your dog being the only tether to this world.

Your poor therapist, worrying her lip each time you came by in a rush between your classes, words tumbling so fast she had to make you stop and literally breathe each time.

 Now, there’s so much laughter. So much silliness.

Your cheeks continue to burn.

There is so much love.

 Steve plants a syrupy kiss to your lips. Bucky presses a berry onto your tongue soon afterwards.

The tablet is pulled away, books too. Even Buckeye is picked up and placed onto another chair. Your disagreeing voice is smothered by two mouths, taking turns overwhelming yours.

“I gotta--”

“Nope,” Bucky hushes.

“Not right now.” Steve confirms.  “Gonna do you on the couch.”

“It’s a nice couch,” Bucky states plainly, “Real nice. Soft leather.”

“Your parents’ couch.” Steve adds.

Bucky laughs in your ear, pressing your chest down until your back hits the soft cushion, “That’s direct action, baby.”

--

“Oh no. Oh no. Oh no oh no-ohnonononono…” And then finally, “FUCK NO!”

The shriek flings itself back behind your shoulder as the rollercoaster drops down and takes your stomach right out of your throat along with your words.

Bucky is cackling madly to your left, Steve on the other side of him whooping. He’s yelling something that is making Bucky laugh harder, but you can’t hear it for the whips of wind tearing through your ears.

“Technically!” You yell, “King’s Island is an expansion of Coney— but no one really remembers—- Ah FUCK!”

The loop slams your head into the cushioned rest, and you bite down on your cheek. You’re going to vomit. You scream again when the next drop throws your stomach up into your diaphragm.

As the ride slows, you blink the tears away and sniffle.

“Aw, baby. It wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s the wind you jerk! I’m not actually crying!”

“Are you gonna throw up?” Steve wonders, thinking on the memory of the Cyclone.

“No! Don’t get your hopes up, Rogers. You’re the only one here who’s a bitch.”

Bucky laughs and tugs you against his side. The three of you trek onward to the next destination, caps pulled low on your heads so that neither of them are recognized. Luckily, it’s overcast again so Bucky wearing a long sleeve isn’t so strange.

The only strange thing is that three of you are full grown adults at the park without any children. Either way, there are occasional stares.

A frozen banana is shared and devoured in three bites from three different mouths. Five more rides are taken and when you take them into the line for Flight of Fear, Steve peers around curiously at the very X-Files décor. Real Roswell, you share, pretending to be that guy from the History Channel, Aliens!

At the loading station, Steve bristles and you’re not sure why until you see the cryotube props. Bucky pats him on the shoulder, “Don’t get offended for my sake.” He climbs into the seat behind you and Steve and plays with your hair when the shuttle clatters forward into the dark.

“I didn’t realize.” You whisper in Steve’s ear.

“I can hear you.” Bucky replies.

 When the rain hits as you’re buying your second frozen banana, Steve is ready to go home. He’s not spending another day sopping wet on an outdoor excursion. The white of his shirt turns peach like his skin.

-

You take them to a bar, instead, even though you promised that you were just showing them the scenic route before heading home. In the car, Bucky grew suspicious when you began to drive in the opposite direction, but you distracted Steve with more threats of Skyline, and he was quick to reel Bucky to his side.

It’s still somewhat early, only around eight or so, and the bar is barely half-full, mostly couples who are at the end of their day-drinking and want to relax with video games.

“Knock yourself out. All arcade games are free.” You grin happily, “This place is awesome. And the drinks are--” You kiss your fingertips and blow it into the air, “Be back in a sec.”

They watch you prance over to the bar and wait in line, bouncing on your feet. Steve shrugs and begins to wander while Bucky lingers by the table, eyes fixed on you. When you arrive at the bar, you smile cheerily at the bartender and show him your ID.

You’re much nicer to strangers than you are to… Bucky scoffs inwardly, superheroes, apparently. The more Bucky watches, the bigger his smile grows. You’re leaned forward, listening intently as the guy points to each item on the menu. It’s cute how your nose scrunches up at something you don’t like, or the way you nod enthusiastically when something catches your fancy.

Then, suddenly, Bucky begins to grow apprehensive because why are you spending so long at the bar? And why are you leaning forward so far and smiling so much? You have never smiled for that prolonged of a time at anything other than your dog.

You catch his eye a few seconds later and wink at his scowl. Upon returning with three drinks in your hands and a wrapper of something in your mouth, he understands now.

“That dude gave me free drinks and a popsy.”

You slide one glass to him and keep the others. Then, you tear open the plain package and reveal a bomb pop—red white and blue. “Popsicle!” Then you stick it in your mouth and swirl the ice around until it turns a muted purple, staining your tongue.

Distractedly, you look around for Steve who is standing at a pinball machine, tapping furiously on the paddles.

Bucky sends you a withering look.

“Don’t be a wet blanket. I got the drink for you. It only cost me five minutes and a smile.” Then you dunk the popsicle in his cocktail and give him a cold kiss on the cheek. He shakes his head, glares back at the bar where the guy is looking over and stands up so that he’s blocking the view to your back.

 Next to Steve, Bucky tattles.

“Oh, be quiet!” You cry, hand coming up to cover his face, “Mom and Daaaaad!” You whine nasally, “Can I go out to plaaaaaay?”

“You were flirting for a free drink!” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me, there are three?” You steal the popsicle back and crunch through it.

Steve huffs, crosses his arms, and lets his pinball fall straight in-between the immobile paddles. The machine warbles sadly before honking out game over sirens. Lights flash around the rectangle of its frame.

“Well—” Steve pauses, “Well, good for you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” You smile. Two girls to your side giggle at the conversation and you turn and curtsy to them. “Jonathan with the eyes is a sucker, ladies.”

Bucky grumbles and throws his drink down, snaps the wooden stick in half with his teeth. Everyone has fucking eyes, he thinks.

 An hour later and all arcade games exhausted, Bucky drives home in silence, fuming. He’s still not over the fact that you saddled up next to some guy, but he just has to get over it. It’s really not a big deal. Steve winks at you from the front seat, catching your eye in the mirror.

-

“Funny movie?” You ask, kicking your feet onto the top of the coffee table, remote in hand and clicking mindlessly.

“Rom-com.” Steve requests, pointing to a title above two generic white actors giving each other enamored glances. Lame.

“Zombies.” Bucky deadpans.

They both turn to look at each other, shaking their heads in disappointment at what’s been thrown out. You sigh, trying to find something that fits all three.

“Tucker and Dale, it is.”

-

When another college kid gets impaled, Steve pauses the movie.

He is not a fan. “I don’t get it!” He keeps saying, “Just call the cops!”

You throw your head back, “It’s bumfuck nowhere!”

He picks the next one.

-

“I hate this.” You stab the red button on the remote and shut off another mistletoe kiss. How does he even find Christmas Lifetime movies in the middle of the summer?

Bucky snatches it from the couch and clicks the screen back on.

“Zombies.” He proclaims again.

“It’s just not logical!” Steve cries, “They’re dead!” His voice rises until you think it could crack the chandelier in the living room, “What—why would they even be eating anything? They’re dead!”

“Zombies!” Bucky shouts.

“No!” You scream in reply, stomping your foot. In the background, Steve continues his rant—something about Banner finding a cure, something else about the sun, another thing about regardless of how the world is terribly messed up, God will not blight the Earth with zombies, of all creatures.

“Zom-bies.” Bucky hisses, glaring at you, as if you are the point of origin for his ire.

Buckeye hops off the couch and plods over under the coffee table. He snorts and shuffles around and scratches the rug before lying down and staring at the three of you like you all share one single braincell.

When Bucky hollers ZOMBIES for the final time, you lock eyes with your dog, who whines pathetically and turns away, as if he is embarrassed by the humans.

-

Cillian Murphy is twenty-something and gorgeous. You are obviously drooling over those enormous blue eyes and pouty, swollen lips, even if he is wind-chafed and underweight, running around in a flapping hospital gown.

Steve gets an idea when you lick your lips distractedly, reaching over the back of Bucky’s neck to twist a lock of your hair in his finger. Bucky shrugs him off, but he continues. 28 Days Later or not, Steve’s on a mission; fuck the zombies.

Obviously, you have a type.

But if he voices it, Bucky might go slash Jonathan’s tires and find Cillian Murphy somewhere in Ireland and do the same thing to him, too. New love, Steve muses, such a delicate thing.

He gets up and sits on your other side, pulling until you are resting on his chest. “Is it scary?” He asks.

“Ooooh, so scary,” you squeal, and then suddenly jump when one of the undead shrieks and tears down the road, “Fuck! These are runners!?”

“Eat him.” Bucky goads, “Eat him, goddamn it.”

Steve pulls your chin away from pointing at the screen and kisses you slowly, tugging you back each time you continue to turn, fixed on the scene. “Mmm, baby.” He sighs, “C’mere.”

“Dude, Steve, I— he’s mmmhm.. okay, wait…would you—- mm!” His tongue slides into your mouth as one hand grips your head. Okay, this fucker knows what he’s doing. “Buck,” you gasp, “fill me in on the deets because—”

“Because you have a crush on this guy, too?” Bucky glares, crossing his arms. You pull away from Steve and weave each attempt he makes at devouring your face.

“Are you serious?” You ask, “You are sipping hella dumbass juice right now.”

“Jealous juice.” Steve corrects, and you smirk at him because the two of you combined are a lethal dose of one-hundred-percent pure bastard straight into the bloodstream. Leaning over, still strapped in on Steve, you clasp your hand over Bucky’s jaw, pinching his cheeks together with a glare.

“You said in for life, you brat.” You mutter, “I’m in a relationship—not dead. Not ungrateful or unfaithful, either. Handle the fact that I’m a person, or get out.”

His eyes widen the same time Steve’s does because you’ve never been this serious with them before. Your tone is grave and your stare is fiery. In the middle of four-hundred solid pounds of serum-injected mass, you are a stark contrast, but somehow holding all the cards.

Something prods your inner thigh and you narrow your eyes, turning to Steve. “Really, Stevie? This is what does it for you?”

He only grins back, licking the corner of his mouth, “Can you blame me? Guess I’ve got a type too. Bossy. Mouthy.”

Bucky groans and smacks the back of his head into the cushion. “I guess I do too. Fuck.”

It’s as close to an apology as you’ll get, and you love that stupid, stubborn boy so you’ll take it. Steve smiles at him and then at you before pulling you closer by your hip bones, letting the heat of him burn past the layers of your clothes.

Bucky is content to watch, waiting for your permission.

Linking your fingers through his, you place both entwined hands on his thigh and kiss Steve, letting your tongue touch his in a slow, teasing lick. He chuckles into your mouth, grips the back of your head in a blistering passion and pushes his chest into yours until it feels like he’s crushing your rib cage. If this is how you die, flattened between two searing-hot (literally and otherwise) men who—Christ, love you for whatever reason—it’d be a death you look forward to.

Steve pulls away suddenly, eyes twinkling with some secret knowledge.

“What?”

“You called me Stevie.”

“Did I?”

Bucky grins, “Ooooh, Stevie…” he doesn’t know how to squeal so he says it in a low, husky tone instead and you swear Steve moans a little before he breaks out into a wide smile, so bright you have to squint. Jesus, Captain America should be on T.V.--- wait, he already is. You are so completely lost in that look he’s got on, like you’ve presented him with a puppy or something that you hardly notice Bucky to your side, humming a low throaty tune.

“So…” he sings, gesturing to the space where you have leaned away from Steve and then down to the tent in Steve’s jeans, “You guys fuckin’ or what?”

 ____________

The end of summer break nears and you’re ready for two years of writing your dissertation before you can fuck off out of the program with a diploma and a J-O-B. It’s both exciting and terrifying at the same time, but if you’re good at anything, it’s putting on a front. This semester you are working as a TA for one of your favorite professors and juggling an off-campus job at the local coffee shop.

Three more days left until the start of the semester and you’ve already met early with your professor and created your email list.

Buckeye is well, drooling all over the place, flopping down and staring out the window. Same as ever. Manhattan assholes still glare at him when you walk him down the street but it sure helps when Steve or Bucky are by your side and glare right back.

It’s cute.

Two boyfriends.

Who the heckin’ would have thought that the night your life flashed before your eyes twice (unnamed goon and Bucky Barnes’ fist nearly in your face) that you’d come out of it with two semi-retired Avengers attached to your hip?

Three days left and you’ve convinced them to jet off on a tiny mini-cation. You wrestled the wheel from Bucky and drove an hour east from the DFW airport with Steve singing along to Sad n’ Sexy Santa while Bucky kicks his seat repeatedly. It makes your heart swell because damn, how’d you get so lucky?

The interstate reaches cropped green plains as the metroplex skyscrapers sink further away into the horizon behind you. From the backseat, Bucky sits up, leaning on Steve’s chair as he stares out the front windshield at a cartoonish yellow sign.

“What… is… it?”

You smirk. “It’s why we’re here. That, and brisket.”

“It’s a gas station?” Steve is confused, too. You’ve been tight-lipped about the entire thing. But his eyes widen before fearfully glancing back and forth across the colossal parking lot and the stretch of what looks like fifty gas-pumps. “Or is it an airport…?”

You lead them in and it’s like their whole world has turned upside down. Steve and Bucky stare at the expanse of seemingly never-ending aisles. People rush about, enormous bags of popcorn under their arms. Chips, candy, kolaches, bear claws, stuffed animals, clothing, Texas-shaped cutting boards, and blinged out purses. There is even an aisle dedicated to pebbles. What does it mean?

“It’s a Buc-ees.” You state, waving your hand in a wide circle, palm flat. “Whatdya think, Bucky?”

The pun is not lost on him and he grumbles.

“You dragged me all the way out here for this?”

“And brisket.”

“There’s brisket in Manhattan, baby.” Steve suggests, but you whip around and hiss at him, “Don’t you dare. Heathen. Ain’t no beef like Texas beef. Grade A, one-hundred-percent beef.” Then you pause and with an exaggerated raise of your eyebrow, pinch his bottom. “And you too, I guess.”

Steve yelps with a slight jump, turning redder than Buc-ee Beaver’s cap as the eyes of strangers find him.

Your Bucky doesn’t notice, only staring on mesmerized by the bustle of foot traffic and the smells of jerky, candy, and the fresh, burning scent of Pine-Sol cleaner. Ahhhh… a perfect combination.

“What is this.” Bucky mutters, “It looks like hell.”

With a clap on his arm and a proud puffing of your chest, you pick up a nearby orange shirt with the slogan You can go to hell. I’m going to Texas.

“Welcome to Texas, baby. Everything’s bigger.” With a perverted leering at his groin, you wink. "You’ll fit right in.”

#marvel #mcu #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #Stucky x Reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #reader insert #fanfiction #stucky x you #FiMS

[onelungmcclung]

im sorry if you've answered this before im relatively new to the ship hehe but-- how'd mcclung fall for toye? was it in bastogne? before bastogne? in holland? in aldbourne? after the war? what were the circumstances? when did he realize it? and after he'd overcome that high of finding out he's in love, how did he deal with the aftermath once it started to settle in? hehe, i hope this week isnt as rough on you as you're anticipating. sending you much love and strength and calm vibes.

💜💜💜 

ok, firstly, I have not been asked this before; secondly, even if I had no earthly power would stop me from answering it again; and thirdly, obviously no pressure but pls consider coming off anon and being my tumblr friend  

probably everyone is new to this ship lmao

so, I started writing a (probably long) mctoye fic starting in fort bragg or aldbourne and continuing to postwar (enablers always welcome). but for the purposes of this ask, I’m mostly going off character insights revealed to me developed over the course of writing the ask him to dance universe. 

(counterpart to this ask: toye noticing/falling for mcclung)

essentially: mcclung is/would be kind of theoretically ok with the idea of falling for a guy, if it had occurred to him he might fall for anyone right now, but falling for anyone is — for the time being — a concept he has strategically compartmentalised out of his entire thought process. (please clap.)

maybe he’s relatively ok with the possibility falling for a guy because he did not really grow up with white conservatism the way most of the easy co guys did; he’s always been aware of it, and his worldview is not informed by it in the same way. his family is arrow lakes/settler and he has friends & acquaintances among the other confederated tribes. and though he doesn’t take a strong interest in domestic/international politics, he has a more critical attitude towards the us govt and its laws (he’s still quietly angry about the grand coulee dam, constructed during his childhood). he’s never really considered that he might be into men; he likes women and he’s always assumed, without thinking much about it, that he’ll get married at some point; but he’s not particularly homophobic, outwardly or inwardly.

he’s not thinking much about these things when the war comes. he gets drafted into the army, thinks “not with these fucking clowns” and besides the airborne pay is better, and volunteers as a paratrooper. he joins up with easy after he’s completed his jump training.

he is excellent at training, naturally; he’s spent days at a time alone, fishing and hunting, since he was a child. he’s an exceptional sniper and scout. he’s confident in his own abilities. some of the toccoa guys initially assume he won’t be as skilled as them because he didn’t have their training, but in fact he has a headstart on most of them; and he knows it. (if he knew it any better it would probably come off as arrogance, but he’s just very clear on what he’s good at. and if he wasn’t beforehand, the airborne has proved it, to him & everyone else.)

he recognises, of course, that toye is an excellent soldier too (not as good a shot as himself or shifty, but overall one of the best paratroopers in the company), and they’re in the same platoon, so that helps. he never really gets afraid, not while training and not in combat; he just keeps his focus and gets on with it. for the most part, he doesn’t form close friendships until they get into combat.

he has some instinct towards helping and protecting others, but once they’re in a combat zone he realises that’s going to hurt him a lot. while they’re training, he helps some of the guys make their shots by shooting the targets for them; but after they jump into normandy, he avoids befriending the replacements because so many of them are killed early on. it’s — a little — easier that way.

he and toye don’t become close friends before bastogne, but they get familiar with each other’s combat style, and they’re comfortable working together. they trust each other; they’re both good soldiers, and toye is a good nco.

and then of course in bastogne they share a foxhole, and that is (I think for all the other characters as well) an incredibly vital, pivotal relationship. he and toye rely on each other entirely; without that, they’d probably die. they learn each other backwards; there’s no possibility of pretence. he knows what toye’s flaws are (stubbornness, prickliness, a reluctance to accept help), but there’s a lot more about him that mcclung likes, trusts and admires (not that he’d say so), and he knows those things are genuine.

he does his level best to stop toye from developing trench foot when he loses his boots. sure, he pretty much calls toye an idiot for getting into this situation and for refusing to tell the medics, but he does everything he can think of. it hasn’t occurred to him that he cares deeply about toye; it just seems inevitable.

(and he tells smokey to let the medics know. he doesn’t tell toye he’s told smokey, because it’s funnier this way. like everyone else, he’s starved for entertainment.)

but toye gets hit, and they’ve spent months beside each other — sleeping in shifts, keeping each other safe, trying to keep each other warm, kvetching, arguing with each other; he’s put up with toye’s singing and toye’s put up with mcclung talking to himself. a synchronicity and interdependence has developed between them, throughout the war but particularly in bastogne, to the point where it’s almost telepathic. he doesn’t consider what a powerful kind of intimacy this is, both physical and psychological, until it’s gone.

toye gets hit, and mcclung loses him. toye gets hit, and mcclung is blindsided by the enormity of it. you can’t take anyone’s survival for granted, he’s always tried to be careful of that, but losing toye is like losing part of himself.

he’s pretty determinedly unsentimental about everything: he’s not going to fall in love with anyone while he’s fighting a war, and he’s not going to dwell on situations beyond his control, and he’s not going to let himself be distracted by worrying about someone who isn’t here anymore. or at least that’s the attitude he’s internalised, and he takes it so much for granted that he never even considers that he could have fallen for anyone: right here, right now.

but he can’t forget anything that’s happened, even if he’d like to, and there’s no other friendship that can quite replace what had developed between toye and himself. bastogne was when things were at their worst, and toye is the one with whom he survived the worst. without toye, he feels an inescapable sense of wrongness, unevenness.

he’s half aware that he misses joe. he tries not to acknowledge that to himself, because that would mean acknowledging that he may not have any chance to see joe again, that one or both of them may not survive. that’s a line of thought he keeps away from altogether; it’s there, but he won’t look at it.

he knows it’s not his fault toye was injured. sometimes it has nothing to do with being a good soldier; sometimes it’s just luck and timing; he’s nearly been hit himself. he knows that, but deep down inside he wonders if he could have saved joe, by making sure he was in their foxhole before the shelling started. he heard toye and second-guessed himself. he stayed where he was. he thinks he probably did the sensible thing. he still feels guilty about it.

(sidenote: the glaring exception to his “don’t befriend the replacements” rule ends up being babe. after toye, guarnere & compton are taken off the line, he and babe start sharing a foxhole. possibly he could have found someone else, but his protective instinct resurfaces and maybe it helps to take his mind off missing toye. it’s a friendship that comes out of grief and loss.)

he gets through foy, and haguenau, and he focuses on the situation at hand and he doesn’t think about toye.

when they reach austria, mcclung is ordered to hunt animals to feed landsberg’s prisoners, and so he sets up camp alone in the woods. it’s beautiful; it’s peaceful; it’s the first time he’s been truly alone in two years. it’s the first time his mind is able to relax, and the memories come back — prewar life, everything he’s been through since, bastogne, toye — and the thoughts of the future, what he might do after the war.

he’d like to see toye again.

he still hasn’t thought that maybe he has feelings for joe.

and then the war ends, and he has the freedom to decide what to do next. he returns to england, and then ships back to the us. the memory/loss of toye is still a weight on him, and so he tracks toye down and goes to see him. that’s the obvious, logical course of action.

it’s also making him much more nervous than it has any right to.

(for the past year and a half, he’s been compartmentalising very hard because he intuitively understood that as the best way to survive the war. he learnt it early on, and it’s hard to let go of it. he’s convinced he’s handling everything great, very matter of fact and pragmatic, getting the job done, no emotional baggage here, etc etc. this is... not 100% true, but a coping mechanism is a coping mechanism is a coping mechanism. he is doing pretty well; nobody thinks he’s not; so obviously that counts as a roaring success.

but once the war is over, the psychological walls he’s maintained throughout combat — between survival and emotion — begin gradually to disintegrate. he has to let himself become whole again, learn to navigate who he is now, accept that the war has scarred him. he still feels himself to be one of the lucky ones. some of the things he’s been avoiding hit harder than others, and he can’t control that anymore.

insofar as he’s aware of these developments, he considers it extremely unfair.)

but, ensuing stupid panic or no ensuing stupid panic, he commits to meeting up with toye. he figures they’ll catch up, maybe keep in contact, that now he’ll be able to stop wondering how toye’s doing, stop this strange off-balance feeling he’s had since toye got hit.

seeing toye again is actually a lot more than he’d ever anticipated, and he’s forced to acknowledge that maybe there’s more going on here than he’d figured.

he realises he’s attracted to this guy, and he doesn’t know when that started: probably in bastogne, but maybe earlier. it feels new but not new; if he hadn’t pointedly avoided thinking about joe after foy, maybe he’d have figured it out sooner. if they’d made it through the war together, maybe something would have happened between them in europe, but they lost each other too soon for him to know. he’s a little discomfited by these feelings suddenly creeping up on him, but he’s trying hard not to let any of it show: not the attraction, not the unease.

he reasons that his feelings are only a problem if toye doesn’t share them. he thinks he could deal with that, but he is afraid they may not have a friendship anymore, that it was left behind in wartime.

he tells himself he’s not afraid of rejection. but he is. he doesn’t like feeling vulnerable, and suddenly he is.

when he thinks there’s a chance the attraction is mutual, he takes it. it works out for him. they stay together. he accepts that he’s falling in love and he lets it happen.

he falls in love with joe’s courage and honesty and selflessness, and he finds it incredibly hard to actually say that. (this is someone who considers “hanging out with you voluntarily” to be a love language.) he’s moved just by the fact joe wants to be with him, that he’s able to acknowledge that attraction and act on it despite his provincial catholic upbringing lol. he knows that joe’s recovery has been difficult, and he sees how joe is dealing with it, and, like in bastogne, he tries to support him as quietly and simply as possible.

he finds it hard to tell joe he loves him, but he pays attention to what joe does and says, and does whatever he can to make his life better. he never thinks joe needs him there, and he wouldn’t want it that way. he helps joe to adapt their old calisthenics training; they take roadtrips together. they’re still deeply protective of each other, and they still express it via touch, practical acts, and snark. they don’t struggle with physical affection as much as either of them might have worried; they’re a little hesitant at first, but it falls into place.

they’re fumbling their way a little, but they respect each other completely and unconditionally, and they’re kind and careful, and their relationship gets stronger as it goes on. 

and they dance together.

#thank you for the good wishes <33 #toye x mcclung #mctoye #earl mcclung #joe toye #replies #'charactering' #long post under the cut bc I love going All Out and uh. also this ship #fine to reblog btw #writing manifesto: all characters are idiots in their own way

[fan-fantasies]

Truth Hurts (P.5)

A/N: It’s a bit short but I’ll try to make the next part a bit longer! -Heather

Pairing: (eventual) Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and things get touchy feely

Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist

Part Four //  Part 6

You had to admit that you were nervous about Bucky trying to teach you how to be more sexually appealing. Being an Avenger didn’t really leave much time for worrying about whether or not guys find you sexy. You figured as long as you were saving lives people wouldn’t care if you were showing cleavage or not.

You knew Bucky was a little too experienced with the ladies and honestly, you didn’t want to be like the women that Bucky fucked. They all seemed really insecure with themselves considering they would lower their standards to Bucky Barnes. 

You waited for him in the screening room as he instructed and you honestly had no idea what he had in store for you. 

“So when’s the last time you had sex?” He asked as soon as he walked in. His voice startled you but the question startled you more. 

“That’s not really any of your business,” you answered. 

“Look, if I’m going to help you, you have to be honest with me,” he sighed. 

“I don’t need your help in this particular area. I know how to have sex,” you defended yourself. Truth be told, it had been a while, but that doesn’t mean you forgot how to do it. You could probably teach Bucky a thing or two. 

“Fine, show me then,” he told you. You nearly passed out at his words. 

“I’m not having sex with you!” 

“And I’m not having sex with you. I just want you to seduce me,” he specified. 

“You’re going to the movies on Friday, right?”

“Uh yeah? I’m not gonna have sex in the movie theater.” 

“I know that but there are things you can do during the movie to get him going so after you guys can you know,” he explained. 

“So, what? We’re gonna watch a movie and I’m gonna try to make you want to have sex with me?” You ask. 

“You got it,” he winked. He sat down in the front seating area and patted the spot next to him. You sat down about a foot away from him but he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer. “The first lesson is confidence. Confidence is sexy so don’t be shy.”

“Got it,” you nodded.

 “So little touches here and there can really drive a guy wild. So go ahead.” 

“Go ahead and touch you? Bucky, I don’t know about this,” you mumble. 

“Trust me, (y/n). You said you don’t need help so prove me wrong. Seduce me, sweetheart,” he smirked. You sighed and rested your head back against the seat. Bucky put on some random movie and the lights automatically dimmed. It’s just to help you get further with Ryan you kept telling yourself. 

You placed a shaky hand on Bucky’s thigh and leaned in a bit closer to him. He placed an arm around your shoulder casually. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him and it was comforting in a way. You sucked in a deep breath and just went for it. You slid your hand up Bucky’s inner thigh and stopped just before you touched his...area. You rubbed some soft circles before sliding your hand down then back up, applying some more pressure this time. Bucky sucked in a breath and cleared his throat.

“Are you okay,” you whispered in his ear. Your lips were so close to his skin that he could almost feel them. The scent of your perfume was more apparent now and it was making his head swim. Had you always smelled that good? 

“Perfectly fine,” he answered. You pressed a kiss to his jaw right before his ear and he thought his heart might jump out of his chest. He almost forgot that he asked you to do this. It felt weird but not a bad weird. 

You switched up your tactic and removed your hand from his leg and grabbed his own. You laced your fingers between his and pulled his hand over to your lap. You sat your hands right over your… area… and rubbed gentle circles with your thumb. You liked being this close to Bucky and you told yourself it was because you hadn’t had much intimacy in a while. Yeah… that’s it…  

You laid your head on Bucky’s shoulder and you swore you felt Bucky’s hand twitch. It had. Bucky could feel the warmth from your body and he could smell your arousal with his super soldier senses. His hand ached to touch you and make you feel good. Bucky was starting to freak out. Why did he like this so much?! 

“How am I doing?” You bit your lip and looked up at him through your lashes. 

“Wh-what?” He asked. You moved closer and he thought that you were going to kiss him. He began to duck his head to meet you and you knew you had him.

 “Can I go now?” You ask, completely normal. 

“What? Shit,” he mumbled. 

“I think I’ve proven that I can turn a man on and it looks like you have a bit of situation you need to take care of,” you smirk when you motion down to the tent forming in his shorts. His hand quickly leaves yours and covers the bulge. 

“Uh yeah I’ll see you later,” he coughed as he watched you leave. You were happy that you proved him wrong and turned him on but you also liked that you could have that effect on him. Why did you like that? And why did you want to do it again? 

“(y/n), hey! Just the gal I was looking for,” Tony said as he jogged up to you. “What’s up?” 

“I have a mission for you. And my apologies in advance but it’s with the terminator. Steve feels the two of you are best for the mission. You leave tomorrow,” he said. 

“Will we be back by Friday? I have a date.” 

“You should be but missions come first,” Tony answered. You nodded and went to your room to pack. Great, you were gonna be alone with Bucky and you felt more confused about him than ever. 

You hated him right? Right… 

If you want to be added to the series taglist (or any other) please let me know! And be specific with which one you wanna be added onto :)

Series: @marvelfansworld @marie-is-in-the-dark @laisbeltrans @anamcg317

Permanent for all: @lokilvrr @m-a-t-91

Marvel: @burberry13addicted @pixiehex1985  @supernatural-fanfic @thisismysecrethappyplace @lokilow-keystabbing @angelw1tch @yuvalpayne20@xbabyvalx @emcchi @scarletsoldierrr @latsyrc85x

[xmilitisx]

Romance Headcanons.

NAME: John Francis Morrison  NICKNAME: Jack | Callsign: Soldier 76 GENDER: CIS- Male ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Homosexual PREFERRED PET NAMES: This gets a little long and detailed, lol.  Miles [Multiverse Discord 1st Main] [m i l e s tag] : - Miles is his preferred moniker unless he trusts you. Then he’ll take whatever pet name you wanna give him. White cake, Corn Muffin are two used by his partner, Hanzo, Smiles, Miles is used by Shorty and occasionally there are others. He doesn’t mind them, taking them with a smile- and doling out his own. 

Old man, or gramps is used by others. He just snorts and goes on about his business. Big Brother is coined by Ashe, which he doesn’t mind- treating her like a little sibling anyway. 

Jackie or Jackieboy - however, is a sore point and is reserved for one person, and one person only — whom is currently missing and has been the last ten years in Miles’ timeline. And as evidenced by how much @quodmessorem ‘s reaper could poke at him, it caused him to have something of an emotional break when their Reaper poked buttons that he didn’t even know still existed.

Militis -  [Tumblr | Discord 2nd Main] m i l i t i s tag] - Militis, or just Jack doesn’t have too many nicknames, usually going by Jack, or Soldier. Occasionally he’ll be flung other ones- but it just depends on who he’s with at the time, and who he’s gunning. Most of the time, it tends to be endearments in the form of curse-words flung at preferred people.  FAVORITE CANON SHIP(S): None at the moment, plenty of fanon tho.  FAVORITE NON-CANON SHIP(S): Reaper76 [obviously]. Honestly, just about any character (mostly male, given the canon homosexuality)- with enough chemistry and attraction to the character will work? I mean, there’s the canon relationship with Vincent, and we know what sort of fascination he has with Gabriel. If there’s enough of a pull and push with the character, Jack can be attracted to the person. So it’s something I’d have to just play and find out.  OPINION ON TRUE LOVE:  ...It’s there, but god does it hurt when it finally breaks you.  OPINION ON LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT: ... yes.  HOW ‘ROMANTIC’ ARE THEY?:  Jack’s a goddamn sap. He tries to hide it under that gruff and asshole exterior, but he’s really just a rough, tough, cream puff. He will go out of his way to be over the top romantic if he thinks the other person will enjoy it. He’ll figure out what they like, and challenging masculinity is no problem for him- so roses and bubble bath and pink champagne?

Bring it on. 

IDEAL PHYSICAL TRAITS: Goddamn, call him out why don’t you. Wide shoulders, thick arms. Waist isn’t an issue. Strong legs. He likes facial hair, as evidenced. Thick hair, because it’s something he can run his fingers through. Full lips are a plus. He generally likes men about his height, or a little taller. He’s tall, and he’s wide- so having someone about his size is nice.

These are things that tick high on his “Yes, please” list.  IDEAL PERSONALITY TRAITS: Sense of humor, even if it’s gallows. A small amount of compassion is nice. Someone who doesn’t mind being tactile. or mind him being tactile. comfortable around peaceful or comfortable silences. doesn’t mind PDA. patient. understanding.  but also calls him out on his bullshit. he needs that, and he’s self aware enough to know he needs it. UNATTRACTIVE PHYSICAL TRAITS:  Mmm. Nothing, really- beyond the body exploding into a miasma of insects. At which case, that’s probably a hallucination.  UNATTRACTIVE PERSONALITY TRAITS: Indecisiveness, lack of learning from mistakes. unnecessary cruelty, certain types of vindictiveness. Certain types of pettiness.  IDEAL DATE: Depends on the person. Just as long as he’s spending time with them, he’s good. Perhaps a meal, maybe a walk. Could be a movie. Just really depends.  DO THEY HAVE A TYPE?:  -stares into the camera- AVERAGE RELATIONSHIP LENGTH:  He tends to form long lasting relationships that either fail because he has issues pulling back from certain things, or has trouble letting go. Jack has never been good at... seeing signs of things failing. 

Or figuring out how to fix them. His loyalty has been both his greatest strength, and the thing that’s been the easiest way to break his own heart.  PREFERRED NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY: definitely snuggling.  COMMITMENT LEVEL: Absolutely. If he’s committed to you. He is committed to you. If it’s an open relationship, everything is communicated before it happens and all sides talk. He doesn’t like doing things that he knows are going to upset people.  OPINION OF PUBLIC AFFECTION: He fucking loves PDA’s and will get away with it as often as he can. Anything sneakier or riskier? Enough persuasion and he can probably be talked into it.  PAST RELATIONSHIPS?: One boyfriend for a couple of months before he shipped out to the Army, and then Vincent for a few years. After that? Verse-dependent. [for both variations: Miles/Militis]

Tagged By: @deaxthblossom Tagging: @outlawjustice @southernsquall @quodmessorem @chronal-anomaly @gamfcowboy @newsouthgun @dontcallmejoel @outlawbounded @science-on-ice @coldsnxp @talonsaconite @rendezvousaveclamort @reyes-is-dead @symbiotesis and anyone else that wants to do this, pls snag it.

#romantic stuff → a meme™ #don't do it if ya don't feel like it

[cinaea]

I, M and Q for the fanfic ask meme? Sorry if thats too much or youve already answered one of those, btw, i absolutely adored trinity + volition, am super excited for the up coming part and hope youre having a lovely day!!

Hello, munchkin! Thank you for responding to the FanFic Meme!(This is a reminder to everyone else that they’re also welcome to send me anask!) I’m gonna take these out of order, to end on a fluffy note.

I: Do you have a guiltypleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

Let’s go with reading, ‘nony, because the next bit showcasesone of those guilty pleasures in my writing. Prepare for TMI, but hey, youasked. I browse the Tentacles tag on AO3 when I’m trying to get in the mood, ifyou know what I mean. Just about any fandom (no matter how obscure or badlywritten), I’ll read it as long as it’s short, complete, and explicit. I’m notlooking for thousands of words of character development—I want the raunchystuff up front. Bring me that sweet, dub-con xenophilia, baby.

In case you’re already sorry you asked, let’s move on toeven more disturbing pastures. Triggerwarning for dub-con in this one, folks, though if you’ve read Volition, I suspectyou’re comfortable rolling these dice.

Q: Do you have anydiscarded scenes/storylines/projects?

While writing Chapter 8 of Volition, I realized therehad been a pacing problem since Chapter 4, and that I was risking drawing out thedays of the interrogations too long to keep readers engaged. Also, man, commentershad turned against Steve hard, which hadn’t exactlybeen my intent—I’d hoped that general fanon love for Steve would help readerssee through that part of Bucky’s unreliable narrative.

Sidebar for an example: There’s amoment in Chapter 11 where Steve decides to stop kissing Bucky, and Bucky thinksto himself how self-righteous Steve’s being, thinking he knows anything abouttrauma. And I’m like: Surely people will see that this is a ridiculous thing to think about Steve;Steve has experienced plenty oftraumas and knows how they can fuckyou up. Fuck you, Bucky, you’re awful here.But no, commenters agreed with Bucky, and that was even after I’d sped up the outline to bring up some of Steve’s backstorysooner in Chapters 9 and 10.

So yes, I’d made a critical mistake and bogged down the 25-50%of the story with lots of incidents that essentially spun their wheels and didn’tbring Bucky and Steve any closer. I needed to get to the kissing and the disastrousbonding ASAP. I did some shuffling and condensed the planned Chapters 9-to-12into 9-to-11, sacrificing a few unsuccessful interactions and one big, momentousshowstopper that was planned but never written.

If you thought the failed D/s scene near the finale was high-stakes,just wait until you hear about the semi-disastrous blow job I had planned forwhat was originally Chapter 11, the day between the kiss in Tony’s lab and theirbonding! The goal was to introduce some sexuality into the story, as well asone more instance of all three of them fucking up. That meant putting Bucky ina desperate headspace where he’d be willing to do just about anything to securehis friends’ safety, while Tony and Steve were oblivious to Bucky’s skewedinterpretation of events.

Following the nerve-wrackinginterrogation that came dangerously close to revealing that Bucky had killedfor Mentallo willingly, Bucky stumbles to his doms’ bedroom in the middle ofthe night, anxious to convince them to bond, and finds them grinding againsteach other in bed. Bucky’s libido has been muted since assaulting Clint, but hecan’t help but watch from the doorway.

Tony spots him and coaxes him tojoin them. They all move to the edge of the bed, and they take turns kissing Bucky,who’s not sure if he’s into this, but he needs them to want him, and he feelslike he can’t risk saying ‘no,’ but they keep inviting him to greaterintimacies (because Tony’s problem in the first half is how much he assumes about Bucky), and he can’t seemto catch his breath or find his footing.

Steve ends up kneeling on the floorbetween Bucky’s legs, and Tony rubs Bucky’s arm and shoulder and kisses hisneck, urging Bucky to “Let him/he wants this so bad/etc.” Steve unzips Bucky'spants and pulls out his half-hard cock (it feels good but also weirdlysickening, he hasn't been even this hard in years), but Bucky's not sure hecan/should; this isn’t what he came for but doesn’t he owe it to his friends(uncomfortable echoes of the Ebersol mindset)? Tony puts Bucky's hand inSteve's hair and tells him he's in control, because of course that’s what Tony thinks Bucky needs. Bucky reflexivelytightens his hand in Steve's hair, and Steve takes that as a command and leansforward, maybe whispering "please." His dom is begging, and Bucky’s instincts and his brain both say he should lethim have what he wants, but.... Steve may possibly make skin contact, but Buckypanics and dashes out of the room. Or else Tony manages to talk Bucky throughthe entire blow job, but Bucky’s in a messed-up headspace the entire time, andcomes with a wave of guilt.

In looking for a way to condense the middle chapters, Iconfronted just how disturbingly dub-con the moment was, and ultimately I feltgood about cutting it. Aren’t we all glad I made that choice? The story didn’tneed any more train wrecks, and theirrelationship is healthier for not having included such a messed up sex scene.

Phew! That was dark. Let’s end on whimsy!

M: Got any premiseson the back burner that you'd care to share?

I’ve got this half-formed Bucky/Steve idea that I’d love tosomeday find the time to write, but I’ve got three more big stories to get outfirst (two in Trinity Universe, and one in GGundam). Who knows if I’ll ever find the time? It’s a ~fairytale mashupthat combines aspects of @astolat‘sfabulous The Crown of theSummer Court, the too-brilliant JonathanStrange and Mr. Norrell, a dash of the DresdenFiles novels, and a whole bunch of Fairy lore I’ve consumed over the years. Thepremise goes something like this:

Steve and Bucky are childhood friends in village on the edgeof a woods. One day Bucky wanders alone too far into the woods in search ofherbs to use as medicine for Steve, and ventures into a Fairy Ring. The Faesnatch Bucky away and replace him with a changeling that wastes away and dieswithin a week. Everyone believes the switch except Steve, who discovers thepiece of wood where Bucky’s body should be [something something the wood as stand-infor the metal arm? to be developed]. Steve studies everything he can about theFae over the years, and finally a passing sorcerer (Howard? Tony?) gives Stevethe potion that upgrades his sickly body to Cap body, and takes Steve along when he leaves town. Steve quests for years tofind Bucky, and [plot point to be determined] finds himself in the land of theFae, where he’s to serve as the champion for a Fairy Lord. Unbeknownst toSteve, the champion of the rival Fairy Lord is the Winter Soldier, a practicallymute human foundling who has spent more than a decade in Faerie and has beenspelled to forget his human past. The Winter Soldier is tasked with seducingSteve into violating some rule of hospitality before their scheduled match.Steve resists manfully even as he realizes it’s Bucky, and he makes it a termof his continued service to his sponsoring Lord to restore Bucky’s memory andfreedom if Steve wins. There’s a tournament, plenty of canoodling that Steve’shard pressed to deny, and an eventual happy ending.

…That’s about all I’ve figured out so far. Lots of pining, Faerierules lawyering, dueling, manly yearning,etc. I haven’t yet planned how to work in Peggy and/or Sam. T’Challa wouldlikely be the Fae Lord sponsoring Steve. Did I mention rules lawyering? Becauseyeah, I was going to have to come up with that twist, too. Difficult.

This has been fun, peeps! Let’s do more asks! And hey, ifyou like these Ask responses? Like my writings? Feel free to buy me a coffee sometime. After all, Iwrote this post from a Starbucks. Mama has an expensive habit.

#asked and answered #cinaea is a writer! #Volition #Trinity Universe #Fanfic meme #TW: dub-con #tentacles! #faerie rules lawyering #Anonymous

[stilljumpingback]

(via Black Sails Episode 301 - XIX)

Black Sails Episode 301 - XIX Recap

WELL-FORMED THOUGHTS

Flint’s got a death wish.  He’s always been recklessly violent, but he is no longer careful in the slightest.  In his first scene of the season, Flint strides into the city he’s sacking, walking directly at a man who tries to shoot him.  Flint doesn’t duck or pause; the only thing that saves him is pure dumb luck that the gun misfires and Flint can cut the man down.  Later, when he lists all the reasons they shouldn’t go onto the Bait Ship, he lets the wrong decision be made instead of sticking to his opinion.  And when Silver tries to send someone else before Flint for safety, Flint crosses over first with zero fucks as to what happens.

When they find the marooned captain’s log scrawled with “we die alone” over and over again and it’s mentioned that he must have gone mad, it’s easy to draw a comparison to Flint.  This comparison is solidified when DeGroot says the storm Flint wants to sail into is a ship killer, and Flint replies, “Then he’d be mad to follow us in there,” (AKA I’m mad for going in there).

Losing Miranda and losing his last connection to Thomas (in the form of his dream of a colonized Nassau) has utterly undone Flint.  He has a purpose now – to take down England and see Nassau free of its influence – but he cares very little whether or not he lives to see it happen.

Poor Silver has a big job ahead, saving Flint from himself.

FRAGMENTED THOUGHTS

We meet Blackbeard for the first time!  He’s very composed, erudite, and ruthless.  But not ruthless like Ned Lowe in season 2, so I am HERE for it!

“There is no forever.  Everything moves toward its end.”

This feels especially prescient now that we’ve passed the halfway point of the show.  In this episode, it really FEELS like everything is moving toward its end.  Eep!

Ninja!Flint OMG

Yikes, Ninja!Flint has no emotions in his mission to avenge hanged pirates.  This particular magistrate is banking on the fact that Flint is a good man.  We know he is, so we expect him to either mete out a lesser punishment or at least show remorse for murdering him.  Nope!  This empty Flint murders both the magistrate and his wife, and when he hallucinates Miranda’s corpse as his victim instead, he just leaves the room, blank-faced as ever.

Billy is not very perceptive in this episode.  Silver can see that Flint has changed, but Billy is just like, “nah, it’s a mood.”  And later when on Ship Bait, Billy is all “why would they maroon their captain on a boat rather than an island?” while Flint is figuring everything out.  Billy, my man, step up!

It feels very odd to see Vane as Featherstone’s captain.  But I love this side of Vane, who both 1) refuses to let slaves die and 2) refuses to let the slaver ship escape.  Very clever move on his part to use the launches!

I really dislike Max in this episode.  The fake Eleanor trial is in poor taste, and it highlights the fact that Max panders to people rather than inspiring them.  She is okay with the status quo, so long as herself and those closest to her are treated well by it.  And later, when she says the iconic “In another time, another place, they would call me a queen,” I couldn’t help but notice that everything she lists as evidence are Eleanor’s accomplishments.  I wonder how much of this is something she realizes and fears?

Mr. Scott:  You wanted to replace Eleanor.  She was the one Nassau relied upon to solve those problems no one else could or would.  I hope for all our sakes you are up to the task.

Anne is caught between Jack and Max.  Jack calls Max Anne’s “husband” and later Anne warns Max that she’s getting close to the one thing she promised never to do – make Anne choose between the two.

I ADORE the scene when Silver walks in on Flint while he’s asleep.  It belies the intimacy they now share, though Flint is very much keeping up some walls.  When Silver tries to use the power of emotional speechifying against Flint, he is Shut Down (for being a little too correct).  Silver is trying to step into his role as a partner, but Flint doesn’t want anyone that close after losing Miranda.

Silver:  I understand this is all incredibly personal to you after the loss of Mrs. Barlow. Flint:  Now, wait a minute – Silver:  And I understand the burden of playing the role you currently play must be taking a toll even you cannot fully comprehend. Flint:  Stop.  Now you have wormed your way into the heads of the men out there, and they’ve granted you authority over them because of it.  But in my head, you are not welcome.

I REALLY wish I’d seen the meeting between Flint, Vane, and Jack right after season 2.

Vane is pissed at Jack for sending him after slaves to use in the fort.  I am baffled by this plotline?  After quite eloquently explaining how awful slavery is, Vane just…agrees?  Is the point of this supposed to be that our heroes can use slave labor so long as they feel badly about it?  Why not use the power of their names and start working themselves and inspiring their crews to join them?  I buy Jack thinking of this plan because he’s got enough white man privilege to blind himself to what he’s doing, but Vane?

Flint wants to avoid the ship bait, but Silver is in favor.  They’re in need of resupplying and there’s a storm coming.  Silver is annoyed that Flint thinks he made the wrong call and says, “How would you have argued [it]?” leading to another excellent Flint speech!

“These days any man who can sew a black flag and get ten fools to follow him can take a prize.  They can take it because of the fear that I and men like me have instilled in their prey.  But they can’t do what I can do.  They’re not built for it.  And sooner or later, they’ll be exposed.  Any fool who followed Hallendale deserves whatever end they got in his company.  You were right – the war is getting more dangerous.  The strong among us must stand together and face it.  But the fools and the pretenders, they were were never truly among us to being with.  As their quartermaster, it’s your decision.  But that’s how I might’ve argued it to my men to avoid unnecessary delay.”

UM, am I reading too much into Silver’s look when Flint says “the fools and pretenders were never truly among us to begin with”?  Does Silver feel like a pretender and fear that Flint sees him that way too?

Flint’s realization as to the purpose of the Bait Ship and his plan to evade capture is SUCH FAST THINKING.  Oh Captain, my captain.

Max wants to be a queen, and she knows that “when civilization returns, do you know what they will call me then?  The whore that lost everything.”  Her rags-to-riches story only exists outside of civilization and their status quo.

Billy:  Whoever that is out there, he has us. Silver:  Bullshit.  That man [Flint] has a goddamned answer for everything.  He’s working on an answer for this.

Ooooh Silver, remember when you said, “I’m certain I won’t make the mistake you both [Billy and Gates] made.  I don’t believe in him.  To me, he is the means to securing a very valuable prize, no more, no less.”  Sure sounds like you believe in him now!

Ugh, Hornigold and Dufresne.  I hate them, but it’s not even an interesting kind of hate.  They just suck.

Just wanna draw attention to the fact that I already quoted Flint’s amazing anti-pardon speech at the very beginning of this post, and it’s worth reading again in the flow of the episode!  One thing I didn’t mention there – after calling Miranda his “woman,” he adds that she was his “friend.”  One term is for his men to understand, the other is his truth.  I love that he needs to say out loud who she was to him.

Woodes Rogers appears!  I like his introduction, mostly because he admires the way Eleanor gave her testimony in court.  And I like his honesty about his selfishness, how he wants to use her story to bolster his own.

My love for Eleanor only grows when Rogers tries to comfort her emotionally, and she’s all, “yeah, yeah, yeah, but let’s get down to practicalities” and then immediately tells him the one name he needs to worry about.

The first time I watched the series, I hated Eleanor and was so confused by her season 3 arc.  But we left her in season 2 with Vane confirming all her worst fears of pirates by murdering her father.  Last she heard, her plan with Flint was to partner with England to restore Nassau, so aligning herself with Rogers against the Dangerous Pirates (Vane) in order to restore a proper governor to New Providence Island is exactly in character for her.

So many soldiers!  So many ships!  oh no!

#Black Sails #blacksails #s03e01 #301 #XIX #episode review #episode recap #Captain Flint #James Flint #James McGraw #John Silver #Billy Bones #Blackbeard #Edward Teach #Max #Anne Bonny #Jack Rackham #Ninja!Flint #Woodes Rogers #Eleanor Guthrie