#as in slow at writing and slow to get to the action

[corvidcrossbow]

It's late when I'm writing this and I'm sleepy and I'm (again) thinking about Daryl falling asleep during sex.

Not in a mean way; say like he comes home from a run pretty late in the evening or night, you get him some food then help him through a shower and maybe a massage that ends in both your clothes gone and missionary.

Your bodies are about as intertwined as they could be; your legs hooked behind his back, arms around his neck and shoulders, his arms curled around your torso and head buried into your chest and crook of your neck.

He keeps murmuring about how much he missed you, how warm you feel, how good you smell, how soft your skin is; just how much he loves you. His thrusts are slow, almost lazy, kisses accompanying his words of admiration.

He's purring again, completely lost in you, melting into the feeling of your body beneath his cause it's the most comfortable thing to ever exist. His body's on autopilot to maintain his movements, but eventually his brain drifts a little too far to keep it up and he just falls asleep in your hold.

You whisper his name just once to check his consciousness, confirming that he's gone, then smile to yourself and resist your chuckle as to not rouse him. You brush hair back from his face, tenderly tucking it behind his ear with sweet little goodnights and a kiss to his forehead; to which he subconsciously cuddles closer to you. You watch him for a little, then fall asleep yourself.

Daryl groggily wakes up a couple hours later (he practically never sleeps more than a few hours without waking up), disoriented from drifting off mid action. Awareness trickles back to him, remembering what he was doing, only now pulling out of you and shuffling to the space in bed beside you, accidentally waking you in the process.

He tries to get you to go back to sleep, but is a little distant which just wakes you more. Truth is; he's embarrassed. In his perspective – from things he's heard and been told – falling asleep during sex is not only bad, but insulting: essentially saying you're disinterested and find it so boring you snooze.

Of course you catch onto this without him even needing to say it, but still persuade him to explain it himself since it's part of working with him on getting better at freely expressing his feelings and being honest. He keeps apologizing, saying he didn’t mean it like that at all and he was just really beat from the run; if you wanted to restart right now he's willing (he definitely feels like he disappointed you and assumes you're upset with him) (again that stems from preconceptions, not actually you)

So you shift up against him, wrapping him back in your arms and saying you understand he was really tired, and that's okay. He didn't hurt your feelings at all. In fact, you love that; the fact he fell asleep – that he felt so safe and comfortable with you, even during such a vulnerable thing, that he fell asleep.

He's confused. I mean… you were having sex, and seemed to be enjoying it, then his exhaustion essentially ‘ruined’ the moment, and your pleasure (this was early on enough in your relationship that he's still wrapping his mind around the fact you're in love with him, and not the sex – you love that too obviously, but that's not why you're with him. He struggles a lot with seeing relationships as 50/50, rather more 75/25, or 90/10 even, where he's most of the weight. It all stems from his upbringing and experiences, and feels he has a debt to be constantly repaying you simply because you're claiming you love him – he just feels like if he's not meeting expectations he set, he's not good enough, and if he's ‘fumbling’ in something as crucial as sex that's a major problem) (I gotta stop that here or ima get off track)

But anyway, you continue to correct and reassure him, running fingers through the roots of his hair, holding him to you and periodically peppering kisses to his head, temple, jawline and such while you speak, lulling him to rest again.

It takes him a little while to accept that what you say is true, as do most things you reassure him about. A lot of the earlier chunk of your relationship was spent undoing the intricate knots of negative thinking patterns and thoughts that wove into his mind throughout his life – all this being one of them.

He comes to accept it eventually, along with other things, and can now just cuddle up with you in intimate positions, but not actually having sex, and fall asleep in each other's embrace.

Yes your Honor, I am guilty of loving non-sexual cockwarming where you just stay like that to feel connected 😔🤞

(I swear I will post a req fic soon I needa lock in 🗿)

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #norman reedus #daryldixon #twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion smut #twd daryl #normanreedus #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl drabbles #daryl fanfiction #daryl x female reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon angst #daryl x reader

[peachhcs]

can we get any this from Sammy and Will at world I just need my broken heart to be fix for one moment

night out in prague

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

a night off in the city leads to the usa men's team heading into the city for a much needed night out.

1.4k words

as promised, here is some of samy and will at worlds before they broke up because i said i would still write about their happy moments in between the sadness to get a small break from the angst :)

au masterlist

will's gaze stuck itself to samy as she walked towards him with a drunk smile spread across her lips. she wandered off towards the bar an hour ago taking shots with some of the girlfriends of the guys with will keeping a watchful eye on her a few tables away. he enjoyed seeing her get along so well with the others despite their age difference to some of the other players on the team.

the blonde forgot his conversation he was having as samy reached his side. he quickly smiled down at her, "hi."

"hi. miss anything exciting?" the girl wondered, tucking her head into will's shoulder since he was her height sitting in the booth.

"not really. enjoy your shots?" will chuckled lightly when samy eagerly nodded.

"so good. you should've done a round with us," the brunette always got more touchy whenever she got drunk. her fingers reached to will's curls to play with them and the action had the boy flushing.

he loved the feeling of samy's fingers in his hair, but being around everyone else while she did it was still something the boy was getting used to.

the other guys at the table hardly even noticed, but it still sent a blush across will's cheeks nonetheless.

"i'm hungry," samy mumbled as she leaned more into her boyfriend. his arm wrapped around her waist basically keeping her up against him.

"wanna leave soon?" will wondered.

"no, i'm okay. don't wanna pull you away," she hummed towards the guys still in their own conversation will stopped listening to.

"i don't mind. i was thinking about leaving soon anyway," the blonde said.

"are you sure?" samy never wanted to pull her boyfriend away if he wasn't ready to leave. she didn't mind hanging around longer as long as she probably started drinking water instead of more alcohol.

"yeah, i'm sure. don't worry," the hockey player beamed up at her. his smile was hard to ignore knowing he was being serious, so samy returned it.

"okay, as long as you're sure. i'll say bye to luke," the younger girl caught sight of her brother a few tables down.

the middle hughes saw his sister walking towards him, smiling a bit, "what's up little hughesy?" poor samy would never escape that nickname, especially whenever she was around her brothers since they were always "hughesy" before her.

"will and i are gonna leave. just wanted to let you know," the girl told the older boy.

"leaving already?" cole wondered from beside luke.

"yeah, i think those rounds of shots did me in," samy chuckled lightly.

"i can tell. your cheeks always get red whenever you have a lot of alcohol," luke quickly squeezed samy's cheeks which instantly made her pull back.

"shut up. you're the same," the girl poked her brother's flushed cheeks. he just rolled his eyes while the others laughed.

"have fun back at the hotel. don't be too loud," trevor teased earning an eye roll from samy and a gagging motion from luke.

"god, do not say that shit around me about my sister. gross. text me when you get back," luke shook his head in disgust.

"you're such a baby. see you," samy pinched her brother's arm before finding her way back to will who finished paying their tab.

"ready?" the blonde hooked his arm around samy's waist again. the girl nodded, so the two hurried out before anyone could stop them and drag them back in.

the city slowed down once night hit besides the few cabs driving through the streets and people wandering back home from the bars much like samy and will were doing. prague was so beautiful at night, too. the girl's gaze was glued to the buildings with incredible architecture that reached into the sky.

"i could stay here forever," samy mumbled.

"you and me both," will hummed, his hand going to intertwine with samy's

"do you ever wish you could stay in the countries you travel to forever?" the youngest hughes' gaze fell on her boyfriend. from the side he was stunning. his curls started growing back out after his last haircut and his entire face in general was just to die for.

"yeah, sometimes. i wish we'd get more time to explore," will's own gaze flicked across the impressive buildings and night sky.

"i don't know if i've said this, but i really like traveling with you. it's really fun and it's been super awesome cheering you and my brother on," samy felt will's hold tighten on her hand. he met her gaze with a smile, stopping them on the sidewalk for a moment.

"i'm really glad you're here. it means a lot that you came out and i hope we can continue doing this," the two exchanged warm smiles before their lips were on each other's seconds later.

will's told tightened on samy's hips as their kiss deepened. the streets of prague were practically empty, so the couple used that by their advantage to kiss under the starts as cheesy as it all sounded. samy's fingers tugged at the curls on the back of will's head making him kiss her even harder. they practically lost themselves in one another.

"you're so beautiful," will mumbled when they finally pulled apart for air.

"i love you," samy hummed earning a large smile from her boyfriend.

"i love you more," the blonde placed one more kiss to her lips before making them continue walking to the hotel.

the rest of their walk was spent in comfortable silence. the two gently swung their connected hands back and forth until reaching the hotel. the front desk nodded to them as will dug out his key card to take them to their floor.

once will kicked their door open, samy stumbled in. she tore her heels off, falling back onto the bed with a happy smile painting her lips. the blonde chuckled seeing her sprawled out across the bed, quickly plopping down beside her as the two began staring at the ceiling. 

"be honest with me. are you signing when we get back?" samy wondered because she saw the news headlines and all the circulation about will, gabe, and ryan possibly signing. the couple hadn't talked much about it since they lost the ncaa finals as will kept it pretty sparse around her and everyone else. 

because of samy's slightly intoxicated state, she didn't pick up on the hesitation in her boyfriend's face nor the way the smile faded from his lips. she just assumed he didn't hear her or something. 

"i'm not sure," his answer finally came. 

"i feel like there's so much speculation going around. i mean, i'd be happy for you either way," the girl shrugged, a light smile tugging on her lips still. 

she missed will's hesitation again because he just rolled over so he was on his side and samy met his gaze. "i know you'd be happy for me either way. i think you're my number 1 supporter," the boy chuckled. 

"well, after your family, i hope i'd be. have i ever missed any of your games when you were close to or in michigan?" the brunette raised her eyebrow. 

will's smile faltered a bit, but again, samy didn't notice. her hand reached up to caress the boy's cheek as he leaned into her soft touch before kissing the inside of her palm. his gesture had samy giggling before pulling him into a real kiss against her lips. she fell back against the bed again as the hockey player sort of hovered above her so he wasn't completely crushing her with all of his body weight. 

the two continued making out until will pulled away knowing it was late and samy was intoxicated so they couldn't take it further. she pouted though when his lips left hers, "why'd you stop?" 

"it's late, we should go to bed. i got practice in the morning," the blonde chuckled. 

"when has that ever stopped you?" the girl teased some making will blush. 

"maybe when you're not drunk, yeah?" he grinned, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek instead. 

"fine," the boy rolled off of her back onto his feet where he reached his hands out to help her back up. 

the couple exchanged warm smiles before samy started towards the bathroom to wipe her makeup off and get ready for bed. fifteen minutes later, they were ready for bed in their pajamas or in will's case, pajama pants and no shirt. samy flicked the lights off before crawling into his side, snuggling into her boyfriend's extended arm. 

"i love you, sleep well," samy hummed into the boy's chest. he smiled even though she couldn't see it. 

"i love you, too," he placed one last kiss to the top of her head and then quickly knocked out for the night, soft snores filling the hotel room. 

#will smith hockey #hughes!sister x will smith au #samy x will #samy hughes #boston college hockey #boston college #will smith x oc #will smith imagine #uofmichigan #umich hockey #san jose sharks #sjs #ws6 #will smith hockey fluff #umich soccer #umich wolverines #luke hughes #bc eagles #bc hockey #trevor zegras #boston college hockey imagine #boston college hockey blurb #boston college imagine

[kymerawrites]

Addicting

Just tension writing

"Smoking kills, y'know."

Ghost's voice floats over to you from just beside your ear, a hint of irony coating his tone. While his words sound like a genuine warning, he huffs a chuckle when you roll your eyes. He's relaxed around you.

He inhales deeply and exhales slowly, blowing the smoke in your direction. It's strangely tantalizing, like stepping out of the shower on a cold day. Maybe it's just his natural magnetism, or the way his gaze burns right through you. Either way... it's working.

"And yet, you're still doing it."

With a smirk tugging at his lips, Ghost takes another drag while he eyes your cigarette. It's almost like he's studying it.

He exhales deeply once again, letting the smoke linger in the air between you like a veil of mystery. It feels intimate, almost as if you're sharing something forbidden together.

"You could at least get a better brand, y'know."

Ghost mutters as he glances at your cigarette carton, his eyes flicking back up to yours as he takes another slow drag.

He leans back casually against the wall, taking in the sight of you. It seems like he's enjoying this moment more than he should... as if he knows how much this is affecting you.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers.

"Those things taste like ash, honestly."

His breath sends a shiver down your spine, and his proximity is enough to make your heart skip a beat. He's never this close on missions, never this... casual.

Ghost takes another drag and leans back again, studying your facial expressions.

He seems to be thoroughly amused by your reactions to his words and actions, his eyes glinting as they linger on your parted lips.

"Guess I could give you a taste of something better."

He speaks again, his voice lowered to an almost sinful whisper.

He holds out his own cigarette, offering it to you with a smirk. His gaze dares you to take it, to try something new. To play along with this little game he's playing right now.

"Go on. You know you want to."

His invitation is almost taunting, but there's a hint of challenge in his eyes. He wants you to give in, to take the bait. And it's driving him absolutely crazy.

Before you can respond, Ghost leans in even closer so his lips are just beside your ear again. He's so close, you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Just one drag."

He breathes the words against your skin, his breath sending another shiver down your spine. His tone is still playful but edged with something else... something darker and more intoxicating.

With an almost wicked grin, Ghost holds the cigarette against your lips. His touch is gentle, almost reverent.

"Open your mouth."

The command is as smooth as silk, and it takes all your willpower not to oblige immediately. But you do as he says, parting your lips slightly.

He slides the cigarette between your parted lips, his free hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, almost possessively as if he's claiming you just with that simple touch.

"Inhale."

He whispers the instruction, watching you closely.

Ghost chuckled softly as he watched you inhale the smoke, his hand still cupping the side of your face.

"That's it..."

He murmured, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the way your lips wrapped around the cigarette. His thumb continued to move gently across your bottom lip, almost as if he can't resist touching you.

"Now exhale."

He breathed the command, his eyes locked on your mouth. He watches as you exhale the smoke, his gaze growing warmer and darker. It's like he's trying to memorize the way you look right now...the way you submit to his commands.

"Good..."

He whispers, his thumb still tracing your lip.

He takes the cigarette away from your lips and flicks it away before he turns his full attention back to you. One hand remains on your face while the other moves to your hip, pulling you closer to him.

"You taste better than tobacco, y'know."

His voice is lower now, more seductive. He's clearly enjoying this, the way you're responding to him...the way he has you exactly where he wants you.

His hand on your hip tightens, pulling you flush against his body. He's so close now, you can feel the heat radiating off his skin, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"I could get addicted to this."

He murmurs, his voice so low and rough that it sends a shiver down your spine. He leans in even closer, his breath hot against your neck...

His lips graze your skin, leaving a trail of heat and desire in their wake. He starts at your jawline, slowly moving down to your collarbone. He takes his time, savoring each moment as he explores your body with his mouth.

"You're so damn addicting."

He breathes between kisses, his words and actions driving you wild.

His hand slides under the hem of your shirt, his touch burning your skin. He pulls you closer, his body pressed fully against yours now. The contact is overwhelming, and you can feel the tension building between you two.

"I want more."

He whispers against your neck, his teeth scraping your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses down to your shoulder.

He moves with purpose, his grip on your hip firm as he steers you backwards until you're pressed against the wall. He traps you there, his body caging you in as he continues to explore your skin.

"I could have you right here, right now..."

His words are almost a growl, the primal desire in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands start to move under your shirt, his touch rough and demanding. He's not gentle, but you don't mind...you want this, this raw, primal connection between the two of you.

"Say yes."

He whispers, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours. You can feel his breath mingling with yours, the heat between you almost unbearable.

There's a tension in the air as he waits for your response, his body still pinning you to the wall. His eyes are locked on yours, burning with desire and need.

"Say yes, and I'll give you everything you want."

His voice is a low, rough whisper, his words leaving no room for debate. He's not asking, he's demanding.

“Yes..” I whispered

He moves one hand up to your face, his touch gentle now. He cups your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles against your skin.

"Tell me you want me."

The words are a command, spoken in a tone that leaves no room for doubt. He needs to hear it from you, he needs to know that you want this just as much as he does.

“I want you si.”

His eyes darken even more at your words, a low growl of desire rumbling deep in his chest. He's been waiting for you to say that, longing for those words to leave your mouth.

"Say it again."

He whispers, his voice rough and commanding. He wants to hear it again, to know that you really mean it.

“I want this.”

He shivers slightly at your words, the primal need within him growing stronger with each passing second. He leans in, his body pressing even closer against yours.

"I'm gonna take you, right here, right now."

His voice is hoarse, the words growled against your neck as he moves his lips down to your pulse point.

#ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #modern warfare #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley #dead dove do not eat #task force 141 #codcanon #cod imagine

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Furiosa viewing #3 for me last night and I figured something out. I have heard multiple people say that the pacing of the movie felt off or weird or even "slow," even though the plot consistently moves along at a brisk clip. But what people were noticing was not the speed of the story but the structure.

I realized the pacing feels weird because the movie has two third acts.

The overwhelming majority of movies released by Hollywood studios follow a very standardized three-act structure. This is certainly not the only way to structure a film story, but it's the most common one in the Anglophone film world, so common that you have probably absorbed its pattern without even thinking about it. The previous Mad Max movies do generally fit this structure, and Fury Road fits it like, down to the minute.

When we get to the big fight sequence at the Bullet Farm, where we know Jack has prepared everything for Furiosa to leave and they just have to get through this one last mission together, my gut story sense was like this feels like it should be the third act. The fight in the Bullet Farm and the chase with Dementus that ends in Jack's death feels like it should be the climax of the movie. And not just because we are around the two-hour mark at this point, although we are.

In terms of themes and plot arcs and story beats, Jack's death feels like where the movie should end. We start the story with Mary Jabassa telling Furiosa to leave her behind and make it home safe. I'm sure Mary knows she's on a suicide mission at this point, but maybe she can hold off their attackers long enough for her daughter to escape. But Furiosa can't leave her mom behind. So she goes back, and she watches her mom die brutally and gets trapped by Dementus.

Then, at the Bullet Farm, Furiosa has her best chance yet at getting home. She has a fully loaded vehicle, and she's outside the Bullet Farm gates while Jack is stuck inside. Jack, too, tells her to run and save herself. (While it's never spelled out, I'm sure we're supposed to intuit that the green flare means GO.) He probably thinks he's dead either way at this point, but maybe Furiosa can make it out. But once again, she can't do it. She goes back to defend Jack, and we have this little bit of hope of, maybe this time she'll be able to save the person she cares about from being killed by the same warlord who killed her mother. Whether she succeeds or fails, narratively, this feels like it should be the climactic action sequence of the movie.

But there's still another 30 (ish?? I need to watch with a timer) minutes to go after that, in which we have a whole other plot arc of Furiosa getting back to the Citadel, making her prosthetic arm, and going off on her quest to hunt down Dementus. And if this part all feels a bit grueling, it's because your brain expected the movie to end half an hour ago.

(I should pause here to say that you absolutely can write a movie in three-act structure that's longer than 2 hours--you just have to stretch all the pieces out equally or it starts to feel lumpy. And the place where our attention spans are going to be least forgiving of lumpiness is at the end of the movie.)

Well, you might say, maybe Furiosa was just not written with the three-act structure in mind. And that could be true! But I would argue that the oddness of the end of the movie comes primarily from the film not being clear on what narrative question it's trying to answer.

Because an ending that focuses on Furiosa's choice between finally getting home or going back to try to save Jack is addressing the question of, "Do you prioritize saving yourself, or do you fight for the people you love, even if you may end up in a worse situation because of it?"

An ending that follows Furiosa's revenge quest seems to focus more on, "What does seeking revenge do to your humanity?"

Both of these questions are rich territory to be explored in the wasteland, and the other Mad Max movies deal with both of them. But I would argue that the first question is very clearly set up in the beginning of the movie as a thing we expect to be exploring, and the second question, not so much.

I think the story would have benefitted from picking one or the other. And if they wanted to tell a story about the price of revenge, then highlighting this earlier--either by making revenge Furiosa's primary motivation from the beginning, or highlighting it thematically by showing how the quest for revenge warps other characters--would have made the last section of the movie feel more like a payoff and less like a sudden left turn into the desert.

#stay tuned for the alternate ending i wrote in my head last night #i just had to get this piece of it out first #mad max #furiosa #furiosa a mad max saga #story structure #screenwriting

[fanaticsnail]

Aokiji for Kissing Booth please :3 (first time ask omg I just had to)

The Kissing Booth: Aokiji Kuzan for Skullfacedlady

Word Count: 700+

Notes: Your first time requesting, my first time writing for Aokiji. Wooh, I'll be writing for him again. His kiss had me feeling some kind of way, not gonna lie. Come and get a kiss, Skullfacedlady!

The crumbles of wafer-thin paper rustled into the jar beside your seat. The air around you began to grow unnaturally cold at a rate that raised alarms within you internally. You hastily sought out the source of the draft by gesturing your head from side to side, your silken blindfold prohibiting you from locating it more accurately. 

A deep rumbled chuckle hummed in front of you, as you heard your new guest place themselves on the seat in front of you. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Sometimes I can’t control myself,” the smooth baritone hummed at you, his cadence soft and teasing, “Referring to the cold, that is.” You inquisitively cocked your head to the side at his confession and furrowed your brows beneath the material shroud. 

“You’re cool?” you ask him, a soft smile forming behind your pursed lips. You jolt upright at the feeling of an icy hand gently caressing your hand, the shock at such a temperature drop shaking you and puckering your skin with each subtle touch.

“Cool as they come, baby,” he offered you with a soft hum in his flirtatious tone. You felt him lean in, his glacial radiance biting at your skin before he drew himself closer. “May I?” You nod softly, fixing your posture to sit upright as he coaxes you into himself. 

His hand came up to gently cradle your face, gently smoothing over the skin at the apple of your cheek before lowering to caress your jaw. His touches felt soft, deliberate and sultry: his fingers dipping up further to touch over your lips. 

The featherlight touches from his fingers were gently replaced by his lips molding and caressing your own. His lips were cooler than his fingers were, a pleasant shock to your senses as you leaned into his touch. He gently mouthed at you, sensually and slowly coaxing more of you to open up to him. A pair of glasses brushed with your silken blindfold, almost catching the seams of the material shrouding your vision.

Intertwining fingers with yours, he gently raised your hand up to his neck and held it there with his, the other finding your hip and gently tugging you in closer to him. His kiss felt as if he was savoring every moment, no action rushed as he gently romanced you with his lips. 

Slowly drawing out his tongue, he switched angles and gently brushed his muscle with yours. At each moment, you truly felt like you were falling in love with his lingering touch, the coolness of his kiss had each fiber of your hair follicles standing to attention. 

The lingering effects of the cold touch began to numb and swell your bruised lips. With a soft groan of disappointment, he pulled away from you and assessed your lips. Clicking his tongue, he attempted to warm your lips by placing the heel of his palm against your skin. 

“Sorry, baby,” he hummed at you, chastising myself, “I find it hard to control myself around such beautiful people sometimes. Seems you’re no exception to the rule.” He pulled his hand away from your lips, witnessing the smile drawn up over your lips. 

“I don’t mind,” you exhaled in a breathy pant, a puff of cool vapor exiting your parted lips with every word, “I find your inability to control yourself alluring, honestly. Makes me feel special.”

“Oh, you are special, sweetheart,” he chuckled down at you, gently giving you a chilly kiss on the cheek before retracting himself from you completely. “You’ll still be here in an hour?”

“I’ll be here for another hour or so, yes,” you nod in confirmation, a soft giggle fleeing your lips at the admittance. He mirrored your expression, reaching down and giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I’ll see you again on my way back then,” he uttered to you in a slow and laid-back tone. You reclined in your stool, pursing your lips to stifle your smile from rising on your cheeks further. 

“Looking forward to it,” you confessed, feeling his aura retreat with him and reignite your body in the natural warmth of festival air. Your lips still tingled with the lingering numbness of his icy lips on yours, a beautiful memory and promise of what's to come swelling your cheeks in a flush of warmth in anticipation.

#one piece #x reader #follower milestone #kissing booth event #op kuzan #op aokiji #one piece aokiji #one piece kuzan #kuzan x reader #aokiji x reader #ask snail #snail answers

[callmearcturus]

okay the Eye of the Duck for each of the MI films

Mission Impossible:

I promise I really thought about the Vault Scene and I could go on for ages about it and I maybe should since it's the marker of what separates MI from other action franchises.

But my heart lives in this scene as the emotional core of the movie, where Jim comes back from the dead and tries to spin a tale that Ethan is too smart to fall for but is still tempted by. The way Jim says one thing but Ethan's already pieced together what really happened-- and doesn't like the answer, rewrites it in his head to make it fit what he wants.

Ethan's emotions and how much he cares about people is his ultimate weakness and it remains so for the entire franchise, so to see him wrestling with that all the way from the start is crunchy.

Also Ethan soulgazing the camera for that long is very affecting.

Mission Impossible 2:

the point of the EOTD is to find the scene at the movie's center that reflects its core back at you. I think Woo's vision of MI is exemplified by that final fight scene between Ethan and the villain. I remember the first time I watched the movie, this scene made me go "NO" out loud several times.

I mean, mostly because absolutely not that handgun will not fire after being in the sand for that long, there is not enough gun oil in the world.

but since I have wisened up and realized MI2 is not the worst MI movie, I think I get it more. The over-the-top motorcycle jousting, the slow-motion, but especially the cuts to the roiling ocean-- everyone shut the fuck up and let your bodies tell the story, even if the 'story' here is as simple as "I'mma fuck you up." It doesn't have to be original, it just has to be a cohesive vision, and honestly I think people would like MI2 a lot more if they acknowledged Woo accomplished his specific vision here.

I don't love MI2, but I respect it. Way more than, uh.

Mission Impossible 3:

god i hate this fucking movie but the EOTD is really obvious.

The only scene in this movie that works 100% is after the stupid vapid villain is gone and when the movie returns to the two fucking actors who carried this horrible script on their fucking backs.

Ethan has a charge in his head that is about to detonate and kill him. He's asks Julia to kill him and then bring him back to life to defuse it.

I... My hatred of this movie is legendary but I love this scene. I love Ethan staggering around like a drunkard bc he's blinded by pain. I love the way he explains how to shoot a gun to Julia. I love his little "Don't point it at me" and the way he likens the reload of a magazine to the flashlight in their kitchen, something both of them understand. I love the absolute trust here--

Esp bc I think it's clear Ethan could die right now, but he'd rather go out trusting his wife to save his life than to worry about it too much.

And Julia actually fucking saves him, and it's good! It's the only good scene in the movie other than Benji's second scene. And if MI3's goal was to dig into the Emotions of the franchise, then fine, this is the scene that's best at it.

Still the worst movie. Someone stop JJ Abrams from ever writing scripts.

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol

holy shit i am stunned someone clipped this bit

I am straight up stealing Brendon Bigley's EOTD scene because he's right.

This moment, right after Ethan and Brandt have escaped the river, there's this incredible lull in the action where Brandt asks "Why would that work?" about Ethan's ridiculous flare trick to misdirect the KGB dudes with the rifles.

Ethan's confused about Brandt's question because... he didn't know it would work, he played a hunch.

Brandt's bitchy lil "'kaaaaay.... so what was your scenario" and the way Ethan actually smiles as Brandt tries analyzing the logic of what just happened and why.

This is the EOTD of GP because it's the film tipping its hat to everything its doing (and everything MI will become moving forward) in microcosm. MI is not about metriculous clockwork plots and spy intrigue, it's about heart and instinct and the fucking motto of the IMF: "I'll make it work." Tacitly, this convo between Brandt and Ethan is Brandt as audience surrogate and Ethan as filmmakers' surrogate.

Why did that work? Don't worry about it, just keep saying yes and we'll get through.

(Also the bit immediately after with the best Tom Cruise Is Short joke in the series, immaculate physical comedy, love it.)

Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation:

fuck all y'all I'm going to pick a single joke and obsess over it

FIRST 15 SECONDS

THAT'S IT THAT'S THE EYE OF THE DUCK

I'm not even remotely kidding, but this is related to BTS info about the gag. The script apparently only said "ethan and benji get into the car" but when it came time to film, TC was like "I can't just get into the car, it's the waste of a moment. hang on, i got it" and for the next take just DID that stupid flail across the car. Pegg's stunned look is real because no one knew he would do that.

As a writer, I love this moment because yes, just climbing into the car would have been a waste. It would have been an opportunity to put in a character moment just forgotten.

This is related to that lovely lil moment in Fallout where the team are meeting up with Walker after catching Lane, and there's no dialogue, but as they come up the stairs, Benji spots Walker, and he immediately flattens himself to the wall to get out of Ethan's way and looks back at Ethan for guidance. Ethan gives Benji a nod to say we're good, don't worry and they continue up the stairs.

These are little moments of characterization that are mostly built from actors who are just very comfortable with their characters, and this expediency of storytelling. Cut all the unneeded seconds, and make sure every second that remains in the movie is doing some kind of work.

so yeah that's the EOTD for RN.

Mission Impossible: Fallout

the EOTD for the entire MI franchise is the scene with the Parisian cop.

Ethan stopping everything to try to convince a bystander to leave and keep them from getting hurt. That's the soul of MI, the same emotional damage Ethan's carried since MI1.

Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning

"I was hoping it'd be you."

shocker, I'm not picking the moment when Ethan literally Says The Fucking Theme Out Loud, nope. I'm picking the moment Ilsa decides she too will follow the new IMF's batshit "beat the trolley problem by pushing the trolley off the tracks" creed, and gives up everything for a woman she doesn't know who is in over her head.

History repeats, and Dead Reckoning's obsession with closing the loop and creating internal consistency out of a series that has had five directors and seven films works perfectly for me. Venice is a visual recreation of Prague in MI1, with Ethan racing down dimly lit streets to save someone but is just not fast enough.

I also have this personal read on the scene as a refutation of Gabriel and the Entity, who represent an almost Calvinistic philosophy of inevitability and fate. Gabriel tells a lot of fucking lies for a guy fashioning himself to be a prophet, and he taunts Ethan about having to choose between Grace and Ilsa.

But Ethan doesn't chose shit, he's busy getting almost suffocated by Paris in an alleyway. Ilsa is the one who makes a decision, and for a person like Ilsa who literally was the person to ask Ethan to run away with her because all this spy shit is useless and meaningless

Ilsa is the one who picks, and she decides to save Grace. Not Ethan and not the Entity and not Gabriel.

Ilsa died to save an innocent (well mostly) woman, and that's the entire point of MI. There is no such thing as acceptable losses and if you can prevent someone's death, you do it.

AND THEN ETHAN SAYS THAT OUT LOUD TO GRACE BECAUSE "YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ME" "WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES THAT MAKE?" AND THAT'S MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

okay i'm done

#mission impossible #long post #spoilers for the entire series obvsly #Youtube

[p1nkprincess444]

here’s a lil writing prompt since idk im in too much pain to write: *rory character* is failing his classes and the reader tells him ‘if you get good grades on your report card you can do anything to me sexually for a month and i can’t say no’

also i don’t even know if your requests are open so you can leave this for when they are in case they are closed

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𝒜𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔? - 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾ℯ 𝒲𝒶𝓁𝓀ℯ𝓇 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

female!reader x charlie walker

word count: 1,247

contents: 18+, knife-play, bondage

Charlie and you had come to an agreement. You made a deal that if Charlie could get a passing grade in all of his classes he could do whatever he liked with you for a whole month. Charlie had managed to pass all of his classes. 

As you were putting your books in your locker Charlie spun you around pressing you against the cold metal as he flashed you a confident grin.

“ What’s got you in such a good mood, ” my words were met with bright smile and quick kiss to my lips.

You held the paper in your hands as you looked over all his grades and classes. Your eyes were met with the mostly b’s and c’s as you scanned the paper. 

“ I think you owe me now, ” he whispered in your ear as he smiled.

You didn’t expect to feel so nervous as Charlie was walking back to his house with you, his hand holding yours tightly. Once you reached his house he quickly brought you up to his room and stripped you of your clothes. He kissed you gently as he handcuffed your wrists to his head board. He flashed you a grin as he moved to grab a knife from his closet making your eyes widen.

“ I’m not gonna hurt you baby, ” he kissed your lips gently as he brought the knife down trailing down your chest before cutting your bra down the middle. He watched as your breasts spilled out of your bra. He kissed down your neck before bringing one of your breasts into his mouth. His tongue swirled around your now hardening nipple as his other groped at your other breast. His actions elicited soft moans from you. He sat up as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. He picked the knife back up as he moved the blade down to press against your panties. He looked up at you as he cut your panties off before discarding the torn fabric to his floor. He pressed his fingers against your clit, rolling it between his fingers as he looked up at you watching as you let out soft moans. He pressed the handle of his knife to your entrance before pushing it inside of you. He watched while you rolled your hips against the handle as moans fell from your lips as he slowly thrusted it in and out of you.

“ Char- please I need more, ” my voice was full of need as I looked up at him.

“ I think you need to beg baby. ”

I let out a whine as my hips pitifully were pushing down on the handle desperate for something bigger, “ Char please- I just want you. ”

He smiled as he leaned down pressing a kiss to your lips, “ I said beg. ”

“ Charlie please- I need your cock.. I need to feel you inside me. ” My words were filled with desperation as I looked into his now deep blue eyes.

A grin spread across Charlie’s face as he withdrew the knife before pushing his fingers into you. He pressed his lips against yours in a deep kiss as his fingers slid in and out of you while his thumb pressed slow circles into your clit. His tongue swirled around yours as his fingers pushed deeper into you. Moans escaped your lips as his fingers curled deeper into you. He leans down to kiss you deeply, his fingers curling inside of you as he hits your g-spot.

“ Char- mm’ gonna cum, ” my voice was full of need as he quickened his movements as his free hand tweaked at your nipple.

“ Come on baby- cum all over my fingers, ” his voice was muffled as he left hickies trailing down your neck.

You let out a loud moan as you came on Charlie’s fingers before he slowly pulled them from your cunt and pressed them to his lips, “ you taste so good on my fingers. ”

He kissed your lips gently before moving his kisses down your body. He kissed your clit gently as he brought your legs over his shoulders. He slowly licked a stripe up your entrance earning a whine as you tried to push yourself closer to him but the handcuffs around your wrist stopped you. Charlie’s hands move to pin down your hips as he dives back in, his tongue and lips worshiping your cunt as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans grew louder as you squirmed under him, his tongue pressed harder against your clit as he felt you tensing up. 

“ That’s it baby, ” his words were muffled as his face was buried between your thighs as he lapped at your folds. He keeps going, not letting up until you're shaking and moaning his name as you came. 

He grins, crawling up your body to lay beside you. “ You always look so fucking pretty when you come apart under me… ” He kisses you deeply, his hand slipping between your legs to play with your still sensitive cunt. “ I'm not done with you yet, baby… ”

Whimpers slipped past my lips as he touched me. “ Char- I need you, ” I squirmed against his bed as I pulled against the handcuffs. 

He grins, his fingers moving at the perfect angle to make you squirm and moan beneath him. He adds a third finger, stretching you out around him as he prepares you to take his cock. Charlie smiled as you begged for his cock while you fucked yourself on his fingers. 

“ Charlie please, jus’ wanna feel your cock. ”

As he listened to your needy whines and pleas before he withdrew his fingers pushing them into your mouth. He smiled as your tongue swirled around his fingers before pulling them out of your mouth. He moved on top of you positioning his cock between your legs. 

He rubbed his cock up and down your slit as he looked up at you, “ you’re so fuckin’ needy for my cock. ” He pushed the head of his cock into you as he let out a soft groan, “ you’re so wet for me baby. ”

He pulls your legs up and over his shoulders, plunging his hard cock inside of you in one swift motion. “Fuck, you're so tight, baby- ” He starts to thrust in and out of you, the wet squelching sounds filling the room as he fucks you hard and fast.

He wraps one hand around your throat, squeezing slightly as he uses you for his pleasure. His thrusts become harder and faster, his cock pounding deep inside of you as he fucks you mercilessly. “ You're mine, baby... all fucking mine… ”

His lips smashed against yours in a passionate kiss as his hips slammed into yours. His hips snapped forward as he fucks you harder than ever before. He can feel your cunt tightening around his cock, the familiar feeling of your orgasm building. “ You're close, aren't you baby,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear. 

You could only nod in response as he slammed his cock deeper into you. His thrusts grew desperate as he fucked you. His hand tightened around your throat making you see stars as you came around his cock. Your orgasm was quickly followed by ropes of his cum spurting into your cunt as he moaned your name. He rolled off of you uncuffing you as he pulled you into a tight embrace. He stroked your hair as he kissed your forehead.

“ You’re in for a long month sweetheart. ”

#rory culkin #i love rory culkin #i ❤ rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #charlie walker #rory culkin smut #scream 4 #scream movies #scream #knifeplay #knife kink #tw knife

[botanybulbasaur]

love through fiction

stuff below cut because its just stuff im writing while i cry

a quote i keep remembering over adnd over and over again is tahta stupid "the love was there and it changed everything. if you even care" quote because. i dont like change. i like having positive impacts on people but i dont like when i change or when they change. it feels like im losing something, an aspect i cant gain back, a feature that people mightve counted on me for. even worse sometimes, it can feel like im losing people.

so its easier to just ignore change. act like the love and the hate is the only thing that changes, not time. act like we, humans, control how long we have and how the world changes what we love.

but we don't, and we never will. the world will keep spinning and the people will keep changing against their will, against the beat of their hearts. but the fiction i keep reading

it keeps sayingt hat the love doesn't need to change anything. the love being there in the first place is a miracle, a gift, proof that we mean something and that our actions give us something. thte change was there and it made love if you even care.

'slay the princess' does a good job at taking just what i fear and placing it before me. how terrifying it is to be the one who changes, and how terrifying it is to see people change before you. but despite that everybody tried to work together. the love was there. the love was there and it told you to try and change something

then there's the love that transcends change. dragon maid be damned because kobayashi (human character) tells. uak. tells this teenage dragon character "i am. im lying to you. im trying to charm a chaos dragon with sweet lies" after the teenager tells her that she's just a human and she'll die and she's inferior and she's lying to her dragon girlfriend. i think its been a while my memory is shitty. and the girl didnt leave her side later on when she was in bed for a while. she knew that kobayashi was ignoring their differences, keeping it stacked away that theyd die at different times and i cant stop crying. the love was there and it told you that you dont have to change anything. the love was there and it told you that to be happy you have to ignore the change sometimes

amd TOHRU (kobayashi's gf) dont get me fucking started. her short monologue in the train ride back home about how kobayashi will die soon but shes just trying to enjoy what she has now. her conversation with her dad knowing she'd get hurt when kobayashi dies, following her near breakdown just thinking of kobayashi dying. the love was there and it told you to hold on and slow down, that the change is later, you don't have to be scared yet. it's okay, the love says, because it was there.

last but certainly not least dunmeshi. i know i usually bring up marcille here because i resonate with her but i want to bring up senshi and his backstory. like youre telling me he too feels guilty about his family (i know theyre not related to him shut the fuck up theyre family thats what family is) sacrificing for him but it gave him the inspiration and the courage to be who it was. the love was there and it changed me from the inside if you even care. the love was there and it changed me for the better. the love was there and it saved me

yeah im just crying now. the love was there. the love was there and it meant cooking and exploring and selling your desires to the nearest demon and it meant befriending people you'd outlive by a couple hundred years if you even care. the love was there and it made more love despite the change if you even care. the love was there the love was there im jfn,. :( THE LOVE WAS TEHRE. THE LOVE WAS THERE

the love was there and it made kobayashi risk her life for tohru. the love was there and it made laios, marcille and chilchuck risk their lives to kill the red dragon and get fain back. the love was there and it made toshiro wander deep without food to try and find someone who exhibited warmth. the love was there and it made laios and toshiro really become friends because the love was in us all all along wasn't it. the love wasn't because of change the change was love. what made us what changed us was love. what we all have that leads us forward, even in fiction. god i need a minute.

#the love was there #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #mkdm #miss kobayashi's dragon maid #slay the princess #havent even finished dunmeshi and slay the princess #undertale and r1999 i love you you'll be the reason i cry a different day #donty ou think its so neat how the love comes in different forms #tohru -> kobayashi is romantic #and vice verse #but look what they do for each other #what they risk #kanna -> kobayashi is platonic/familial #but look what they DO for each other man #manm y shirt is soaked and my left nostril is clogged #id like to think dunmeshi dynamics are familial for the most part #okay thats it i think im done sobbing my eyes out for now #corny ass

[effy-exists]

Fizz x Male! Reader Smut: Horny

requested from wattpad

i SUCK at writing male reader smut oh my god

also people who are requesting i WILL get to yours within a day or two :) so dont worry. thank yall for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Fizz's day off in a while, so he spent the entire day watching movies with you. It ranged from corny, to drama, to action, and finally romance.

Since Fizz works with Ozzie he had access to watch movies from Earth. The one Earth movie he wanted to watch was 50 Shades of Gray.

He refilled the popcorn bucket and laid down beside of you.

"Fizz, whats this movie about?"

"Some BDSM movie." He replied, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"Interesting." You rested your head on his shoulder and wrapped your leg around his.

The movie was slow at first, just the two characters meeting and getting to know each other, but things have definitely escalated.

Fizz felt his pants tighten up once the first sex scene came across. He tried to adjust himself so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable, but the sex scene became more intense.

You felt him moving in the bed, like there was something crawling on him. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh right, yeah I'm fine." He grabbed another handful of the popcorn due to nerves.

He looked over at you who was nose deep in the movie. The room was dark, but he could see the TV light shining on your face and it turned him on even more. He wanted to fuck you like how the male protagonist was, but he knows you're a virgin and doesn't know if you'll be into that since it'll be your first.

You looked over at Fizz who was staring at you with lust in his eyes, and you want to reciprocate.

"I want to fuck you." You blurted.

Fizz blinked, "Really? You sure?"

You smiled, "Really. I can tell you want to by the way you were moving around."

He sat up, "You don't have to because I'm horny, just letting you know that."

"Fizz," You placed your hand on his, "I want to. Just talk me through it, and don't do the shit that that dude is doing, I'm not ready for that just yet." You snickered.

Fizz moved and got on top of you, straddling your hips. You used his collar to bring him down to kiss you. Breaking the session he took off his shirt as well as yours.

He placed his hands on the bridge of your pants and slid them off, leaving a trail of kisses from your stomach all the way to your genitalia.

He took off his pj bottoms and threw them aside. You swallowed your nerves, seeing his erect cock dying to get out of his boxers.

"I'll be gentle, don't worry." He reassured as he opened the lube bottle and lathered up his robotic fingers and your entrance.

He slowly slid two fingers in to open you up a bit. Your back arched as his fingers pumped in and out, picking up the speed.

"Tell me when it gets too much." He whispered.

"I..will." You said in between breathy moans.

Fizz pulled his fingers out and desperately took off his underwear, his red cock with white scars sprung up. Since the room is not completely dark you saw precum leaking out.

"I want you so bad." You whined, spreading your legs further apart.

Fizz let out a pleased hum as he rubbed lube all over his dick, getting it nice and wet so it'll slide in easier.

Fizz leaned down and nibbled at your neck while he lined his cock to the entrance of your ass.

"Please." You bucked your hips.

"You're so needy." He teased as he pushed himself in.

"Fffuck!" You gasped, digging your nails into his back.

"You're in control of me, tell me what you want me to do." Fizz let out a pleasing sigh, "You feel so fucking good."

"I want..you to fuck me." You wrapped your legs around his hips.

Fizz slowly pumped himself in and out to get you acclimated to the size of his dick. Once you begged him to pick up the pace he did as you wished.

He pinned your hands as he picked up the pace, hips striking your ass as your loud moans echoed the room. Fizz leaned down and planted his lips onto yours so you could moan in his mouth.

Your body twitched as you felt yourself reaching your climax. "Fuck..Fizz." You whimpered, your head throwing back.

Fizz let your hands free and gripped your thighs so he could plunge into you deeper. His moans increasingly got louder with each thrust.

“I’m gonna..” He panted.

Your scream of pleasure interrupted him, body compulsing as you came.

Fizz rolled his hips, riding out your orgasm as he came inside your wet, tight asshole.

The two of you panted as he pulled out. He rested his head on your knee so he could catch his breath. “I’m usually the one bottoming so I barely have the stamina to top.” He laughed.

“Next time I’ll top you.” You cooed.

Fizz laughed in amusement and laid down beside of you, pulling you into his arms. “Did you enjoy it? Was it too painful?”

“A little, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Fizz kissed your forehead repeatedly, “Can’t wait for you to fucked me ruthlessly.”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“FUCK yes.”

#helluva boss #cross posted on wattpad #helluva boss x reader #fizzarolli x reader #fizzaroli helluva boss #fizzarolli #fizzarolli x reader smut #fizz x reader #fizz #male reader #bottom reader

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Finally

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Spy!Reader

Plot: Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.

Warnings: 18+. Smut, fluff and angst.

Words: 9,1OO

A/N: Recently I’ve been trying to understand what it is people want to read of my works and I have no idea, so here is my brain in scrambled pieces. I'm so sorry it’s so long, I swear it's worth it!

Romania.

It isn’t often you agree to such an extensive trip to meet up with one of your clients, but apparently this particular one can’t be seen in the more supervised countries. Besides, you’ve never been to Bucharest before, so you’re quite enjoying your drink at the small picturesque café.

You’ve done your research and know damn well who you’re meeting up with. A small part of you is screaming at you not to agree to do business with him or back out now, but your curiosity overrules any common sense. Last you heard, Hydra had lost their favourite asset and you can confidently say you were relieved to hear it. It had been a few too many times that specific organisation had made your job more difficult than it had to be.

A many number of things could have happened to the Winter Soldier. He could’ve been killed, corrupted by another organisation, fled to live as a hermit– You really want to know. It’s the spy in you that enjoys knowing the ins and outs of the criminal world. He’d tried not to mention who he is, but you had a few offers on the table, he needed some leverage to get you to agree to meet him. Safe to say, you were surprised he’d told you he was the Winter Soldier. Big chance you will now be the only person to know about the asset’s current whereabouts. That is, if you live to tell it of course…

Every hair in your neck stands up straight, despite the comfortable weather and the easy going crowd roaming the street. The sudden change in atmosphere has your spy senses stand on alert. Your spine stiffens and you casually look around, slightly discouraged at the way your body has never responded to anything in this particular manner.

You cross your legs and turn to look behind you, scanning every face in the crowd. When you turn back, the seat next to yours is taken, only a rickety metal table separating you from the large man sat in the other chair. Your breath halts in your throat and you look him up and down, instantly recognising the buff man as the Winter Soldier. How? You’re not sure, you’d never really seen a picture.

You check his hands. Gloves. With this weather? To cover up. You check his build and take a particularly long time to do so, because God, this man is broad. He’s all sturdy flesh and muscle, firm and casual. His thighs look like tree trunks and you know the man is fast, despite his build. You force the deliberate sweep of your eyes over his body to appear more nonchalant and confident than you feel.

Then your eyes reach his face and the breath gets knocked out of you. There is nothing in that face that hints towards a stone cold killer. Dark blue, deep set eyes, freckles pattered over his nose and cheeks, lips bitten raw from contemplation and an expression on his face that almost looks like… Nerves?

“Hello,” you start carefully, unable to keep your surprise from your tone, but sounding relatively cool to your own relief.

“Hi,” he says and the tone of his voice is deep, but rough, like he hasn’t spoken in ages. You think that maybe he hasn’t.

“Should I refer to you as the Winter Soldier?” you ask, composing your cool nature entirely now. “Or would you say that is a bit on the nose?”

He huffs a laugh and you smile, feeling the overwhelming urge to make him do that again. “James will do, thanks.”

“Alright James,” you say, taking your time to let your mouth get acquainted with his name, “what is it you need my services for?”

“I hear you’re a spy,” he starts and searches your face. “A good one– the best one.”

“Well now, I’d hate to disappoint,” you purr. “What do you need?”

“It’s not so much a document or one piece of information,” he mumbles and his face hardens as he collects himself. You sit upright and frown as you study him. “I need you as a partner for an assignment.”

You instantly shake your head, “Absolutely not. I’m not working for Hydra, that organisation is–”

“Not Hydra,” he quickly cuts in. “Just me. It’s a personal assignment.”

You wait for him to continue, not appreciating his vague communication if he wants to become partners on whatever this is.

He sighs, “I– I have a lot of… gaps. Things I don’t remember, things I can’t quite place. Years of information. The things I did for Hydra– I wasn’t there for most of it. Neither were a lot of people. So I need someone with access to some dark shit to help me figure it out.”

Chewing your lip, you process the information he gives you and empathy clenches your heart together. James gives you the time you need to put the pieces together. You’d heard of Hydra’s experiments with brainwashing and had already sort of assumed some of their soldiers had only worked for them because of that reason, had stayed far away from the organisation’s shit to steer clear from that danger.

But it’s so different to see it in real life, or what is left of it, you suppose. Many things aren’t quite clear to you just yet. However, you slowly start nodding your head. Your brain starts running a million miles an hour, all the gears turning to form a plan, the way you always do before you agree to a job.

“Can you pay me for the service?” you ask, already wondering to yourself if you’d help the clearly hopeless and damaged man for free, and to be honest, just for kicks. The things you’d dig up from everything he’ll give you– Selfishly, you’d kill for it. Anyone would kill for it.

He gives you a tight-lipped, apologetic smile, “Not that much. But I can save up more.”

You think. Your gut tells you he won’t kill you after he gets what he wants, even though he could. And though you will always keep a close eye on him and everything he’s capable of, your gut feeling has never disappointed you.

So you sigh and shake your head. “That’s okay. I’ll do all of it for free, and you can pay me what little you have to insure that I stay quiet. Sound fair?”

His eyes narrow with a twinkle that you hadn’t expected from a man like him and he says, “Deal.”

“Alright,” you say and finish your coffee before clearing your throat. “First order of business: tell me your full name.”

He shakes his head with a faint smile, “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Oh shit.

You do know him.

Germany.

Relief seeps into your bones as you cross the threshold of your building and you slip into your routine of coming home. Tired feet drag you through your building and to your apartment, and muscle memory unlocks your door. After the week you’ve had, you are ready to turn off your brain and settle down.

You enjoy being this tired though, revel in it. Exhausting yourself with a normal person job and the way it puts your usually restless body to sleep at night is exactly what you wanted for your life.

One step into your own hallway, however, makes your daydream of a quiet night in crumble to your feet. Something is off. You can blame your trained senses for being so instantly on edge, but the apartment you just stepped into isn’t a place that has been vacated for the past nine hours. This apartment isn’t empty.

An even older routine settles into your bones this time and you creep into your home on light feet. The air is warm and the space is completely quiet. You’ve been alive long enough, seen enough, to know quiet is never good.

You don’t turn on any lights and let your eyes adjust to the dark. Ears perked and muscles at the ready to spring into action, you slowly make your way further into your home. And when you slip around the corner and look into your darkened living room, you let out a frustrated sigh at the dark figure lounging on your couch.

“How did you find me here,” you grumble and it is hardly a question.

You can feel him sit up and tune in to your presence. You couldn’t explain it if your life depended on it, but you instantly knew who it was. The dark figure in the dark apartment, waiting patiently for someone to catch him. After all, he will deny it until his dying day, but he does have an awful lot of dramatic flair for someone so stoic.

“Better question is: why are you here?” he counters and you drop your bag onto one of your dining chairs, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Trying to stay off the radar, are you?”

“And failing, clearly,” you say before he can say it for you. “How did you find me here, James?”

Your eyes are finally fully adjusted and you see the smirk forming on his face. You haven’t seen that smirk in five years. “I have my ways,” he says and pushes off the couch, adjusting his leather jacket. “Now, what are you doing in this abandoned town?”

“It’s not abandoned,” you counter and slip off your coat, deciding to just go about your old routine and ignore his presence as much as you can. Maybe then he’ll go away.

“It’s a shit town and you know it.” He cocks his head at you, eyes tracking all of your movements.

You notice his puzzled look. He’s genuinely wondering what is left of his old ally and you can’t quite blame him. Perhaps he can easily see your lame attempt at finding a normal life for yourself. He has probably tried a thousand times himself to escape the roaring life of saving the world, has probably failed every time, too. But you’re determined to make it work – make yourself normal and live a full life.

And that is all you were to him anyway, just an ally. The entire time, you’d felt that he paid a little too much attention to you, but you supplied critical information and occasionally wiped someone off the map. A spy. Nothing more, nothing less. However, for the infamous Winter Soldier to need your alliance again, you cannot help but feel wary.

After the first time he approached you, you’d spent months together. It was an effort not to grow too close – too much effort. Because you had. It was impossible not to, helping someone literally piece their life together through intimate and awful memories. Digging through protective walls and coping mechanisms to help him rebuild some of his life again. With a lot of reluctance from both of you.

Yes, you’d grown close then. Grown close enough that you fell asleep slumped over the kitchen counter in his awful Romanian apartment, your face sticking to the countless research papers. You’d woken up hours later on his poorly constructed bed on the floor with a blanket thrown over your frame. Close enough that you’d eventually asked him to assist you on your missions. Ones that required a different skillset than your own. Close enough that you cooked for each other, sometimes shared clothes, roasted one another for the mental health issues that lead you both to your current occupations.

After a while, you couldn’t describe your relation to Barnes in any other way than a partnership. Partners. Who had kissed once. Maybe twice. After some bad Vodka.

You sigh and turn to him, “Why are you here, James?”

“I need to lay low for a while.” A wider smirk, his eyes narrowing at you. “I remembered I know someone who is very good at that.”

“Careful,” you warn and roll your eyes. “You just gave me a compliment.”

His smirk turns to a smile and he shrugs off his own jacket, instantly making himself at home in your apartment. A strange thing when it comes to Bucky, since you don’t recall that man feeling at home anywhere. Then, he did always have this incessant cocky streak around you and he is awfully good at getting on your nerves, so he probably sees the perfect opportunity to be a pain in the ass.

“If you so much as sneeze on anything, I swear–”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts in, his tone unimpressed. “You’ll skin me alive. You’re always so weird about your stuff.”

You give him a tiny proud smile and decide to make yourself something quick to eat, only to feel him peer at you from the edge of your kitchen. He’s met with a confused frown before you raise your brows at him to make him spit it out.

“What’s the catch?” he asks warily.

You smile and look down at the sandwich you’re making. “Nothing. Just fix your shit and get out of my hair as quickly as possible.”

He winces slightly and you turn to him fully now, slowly taking a bite.

“What.”

Bucky sucks in a short breath and gives you an apologetic look before he speaks, “It might be a while…”

Your brows drop, “What did you do?”

“Nothing, I–”

“Bucky.” You cut him another look, one shaped by many, many instances of working together. “What. Did. You. Do.”

“It’s not important. I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

You open your mouth to continue arguing with him, but decide against it, already done with his shit. Yes, he is doing better and supposedly now qualifies as a good person. But you know the man before you and the soldier cannot stop himself from lying about pretty much everything. He has damaged tendencies. Give him an inch and he will take a mile, show him a weakness and he will exploit it. You genuinely think he doesn’t know how to be different, how to not abuse those effortless skills he trained all those years working for Hydra and surviving it.

“It’s my weekend off,” you tell him instead. “If you get between me and my plans, I will change the locks.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You think I can’t get through a simple lock?”

Another glare is his answer and he raises his hands in surrender. You walk around him and toe off your own shoes, grabbing everything to take a shower as you shove the rest of your sandwich in your mouth. Bucky slowly strolls through your place and examines everything that belongs to you.

“Can you not pretend like you haven’t completely scanned the place already before I got home?” you ask him as you make way for the bathroom.

“It can’t hurt to have a second look,” he mumbles, but you have already closed the door and move take the shower you’ve been looking forward to the entire day.

You should probably work harder to get him out, should probably make an escape plan and move somewhere else. But you know arguing with him is futile and the best approach with him is to patiently wait for him to move on. Bucky doesn’t get attached and doesn’t nest, so he’ll be gone soon enough.

As the scalding water trickles down your scalp and spine, you realise how much more alert you should have been when you noticed someone was in your home. Especially with all of those loose ends and enemies you have scattered across this planet (and others). Yet, somehow you think your body knew it was Bucky waiting for you. After all, it isn’t the first time he’s pulled this shit, waiting up for you. Usually because you kept something from him, he found out and would start ambushing you to fess up.

And even though technically, you haven’t exactly kept anything from him this time, you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that explaining your current situation will be the hardest thing to ever speak up about. How pathetic, to try and live a normal life when you’re ‘extraordinary’. Ugh, you hate that word. You’re trained well and you refuse to be anything but good at what you put your mind at.

Now, Bucky. He is extraordinary. He has potential to make a difference. You have always felt that. Hated working with him because of that. Not because of him – he never made you feel less than him at all. But–

The water turns cold and you groan audibly, time having slipped away from you as you got lost in thought. Stepping out and drying yourself off, you get ready to walk out of the bathroom. You’re met with Bucky sitting on your couch, reading one of your books.

“Let me guess, warm water’s gone?” he asks, not looking up from the book.

You walk to your bedroom and shrug, “Cold showers are good for you, I heard.”

“I suppose I’ll take the couch then?” he asks, finally looking up from the book.

You turn back and peek through your doorway at him. “You can take the floor if that’s more comfortable for you.”

“We’ve shared a bed before.”

“Not by choice.”

He smirks, “You liked it.”

“You snore.”

“Sleep tight, sweetheart.” He grins at you.

You make to get to bed when you pause and turn back to him once more with a slight frown. “Why are you so cheerful? Aren’t there people after you?”

“Well,” he says, casual as always, “these may very well be my last days, so I might as well be in a good mood.”

You find yourself swallowing hard and desperately search his face for any intel on how true his statement is, without giving away that you might just care a little bit about his well-being. But his grin stays firm in place and he raises his brows in wait for you to call it a night.

Without another word, you close the door between you and crawl into your comfortable bed. And you wonder why it is that you can’t quite get comfortable this time.

…

A powerful jolt rips through your body as you lift out of layers of sleep. You’re too tired for whatever made you wake up so suddenly. It’s too goddamn late for this shit.

But as you gain more and more of your consciousness, your senses start perking up and you realise you might very well be in danger. The gentle and calm voice calling your name with a warm stroke of a hand down your arm, confirms that for you. That specific type of calm in Bucky’s voice sends your body into overdrive.

“We’ve got to go, sweetheart,” he murmurs and is already throwing clothes onto your bed. “Now.”

You sit up and rub your eyes and it dawns on you after a week of Bucky staying at your place. This man wasn’t going to leave you until he got chased out of your apartment. And that day has come.

“Bucky,” you start with a hoarse voice as you climb out of your warm bed and quickly throw on the clothes he picked for you, “who the fuck is after you?”

He takes his time to answer, pulling two fully packed backpacks from the corner of your room that you surprisingly didn’t know he hid there. Oh, this man is going to get an ear full about this bullshit.

“Some weird underground cartel that deals in tech or something,” he grumbles and throws you a pack. You are nearly too slow to catch it before you sling it onto your back. You gape at him after his answer and his face stays solemn as he pushes a hand gun into your hands. “Let’s go.”

“Bucky.”

He stops and turns to you fully. “It’s bad, okay? I’ll tell you later.”

“No. Tell me now.”

He groans out your name, peeking outside while he impatiently chews on his lip. “Don’t do this right now. You can be pissed at me later!”

“I will be pissed at you now,” you seethe, “and later. How about that?!”

He sighs and then grabs your arm, giving you a boyish grin before shooting two bullets through your window, breaking the glass, slinging an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him and jumping out of the fucking window with you clinging to him. It’s only when you fly about five stories down, that you realise the two of you are attached to a bungee rope that eases your descent. His feet touch the ground first, yours following. He cuts the rope and grabs your hand before he starts running towards the parking lot beneath your building.

“Bucky, you piece of shit!” you yell at him as you run, hearing the faint sound of gun fire behind you over the sound of your ragged breathing.

“I’ll make it up to you!” he simply yells back.

You can hear the smile in his voice. And the worst thing? You feel yourself smiling as well when you realise how easily you’ve slipped back into being his partner in crime.

…

Bucky checks one more time, his gleaming metal hand pulling the sheer curtain aside to peer out onto the dark streets. You hear some shouting coming from outside and still feel your heart pounding, even when you know you have definitely outrun those people coming after you. You hate how out of practice you are. And how much you missed the adrenaline of being on the run with Bucky.

He turns back to you and finds you with your arms crossed, glaring at him. Oh, you know the perfect way to let out this adrenaline. There might be actual steam coming out of your ears.

Bucky cringes and slowly strolls over, already reaching out his hands to use his irresistible charm on you. Like the time he dropped the cake you made one afternoon and tried to make it up to you. Or that time he left some very important documents in one of the buildings he set on fire. Or the time he accidentally deleted your recordings off the TV when you had been looking forward to watching the next episode for two weeks.

However, your burning eyes stop him dead in his tracks and he opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it and closes his mouth again. A second later, he tries again, “Okay. Give it to me.”

You give him a satisfied, albeit sadistic smile, at his willingness to take your scolding and then, you start yelling. You have no idea what words specifically are rolling off your tongue, but your speech starts somewhere during that first meeting in Bucharest, drifts to your entire time together as partners, how you drifted apart, only for him to show up whenever he pleased, and you continue to how he stood at your door a little over a week ago, to him terrorising your happy little life in Germany… To now.

Your voice rises with every instance you tell him about, fire burning in your core and hands flailing to give your story that much more power (even though you couldn’t stop your conviction if you tried). As the grin on his face grows through your rambling, a metal hand pressing to his lips to stop it from showing too much, you burn even brighter with fury.

Then you stop, breathing heavily. You give him a withering look to get him to start speaking up, because let’s be honest, all the two of you really needed was only just a look.

His shoulders slowly stop shaking and he drops his hand, eyes sparkling like a glass of Prosecco in the light. Devious asshole. “I just– I haven’t seen you this alive in a while. It looks fantastic on you.”

You gape at him like a fish and you wonder if the warmth in your face still belongs to your anger. Though you fear it belongs to quite the opposite. Either way, this man certainly knows how to make you passionate. And you realise he knows what you have been trying to do with your fake little life here in Germany.

“I don’t think you–”

“I’m sorry,” he says and steps forward, his large hands cupping your face as he looks down at you with earnest eyes. “I’m sorry for making your life so goddamn miserable. So tell me how to make it up to you.”

And for all the world, you can tell he means it. Can tell that he will do anything to make it up to you. You can almost feel the squeeze of pain in your own heart when you see the disappointment in his eyes after he realises you didn’t enjoy this as much as he had.

But the worst part is, is that you did. You’ve never felt more alive than with him. Never felt more like you. You wouldn’t necessarily call him an adventurer, maybe he is just a magnet for trouble. But whenever you’re with Bucky, you’ll drop anything for him and you’ll burn like an inferno doing so. He makes you into the best version of yourself and he makes you love the parts about yourself that you have been conditioned to feel guilty about.

You sigh, “I don’t know. Never mind.”

He doesn’t let go though and searches your eyes, his own narrowing in suspicion. “I’m going to make it up to you, you know.”

You cross your arms and give him an unimpressed look. “Yeah? How?”

He smirks and your knees weaken. “I could kiss it better.”

“Shameless flirt,” you huff and roll your eyes as an excuse to break his intense stare on you.

“You’re just too proud to admit that my kisses would make you forgive me,” he prods and your eyes snap back to his. He’s right, that is pride surging in your chest to lunge at him.

“You’ve grown too cocky for your own good,” you sneer at him.

“You like it.”

“I assure you, I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“Manipulator.”

He feigns hurt, “Ouch.”

You huff a laugh with a roll of your eyes, “Such a fragile ego.”

He smirks again and you swallow as you fight to look at his lips. So close to your own. “Now you have to kiss me for forgiveness.”

You can’t help but truly laugh this time, your face still safely tucked in his palms and his brows raise with intrigue at the sound of your laughter.

You tell him, “You are so full of shit.”

His smile fades, his eyes large with earnest and all of a sudden, it’s the man standing before you that sat next to you in that Romanian café. Stripped down, bare, rough, and perhaps a bit vulnerable.

“Let me kiss you,” he says in merely a whisper now.

You fight for your life not to falter to that genuine request and the way he said it. “It won’t make me forgive you,” you say softly, but barely hear your own voice over the increased pounding of your heart in your throat.

“I don’t care,” he murmurs. “Just want to kiss you.”

He doesn’t wait for your permission either, because quite frankly, you most likely gave him a look of permission instantly at that request. His soft lips slot over yours and you could’ve never predicted the depraved moan that resounded in the back of your throat as your mouths meet. Your hands instantly slip into his hair as Bucky’s hands slide around your waist to pull you closer, fingers digging into your flesh possessively.

The kiss deepens when his tongue meets yours and he lets out a groan of his own, a sound so addicting that you instinctively tug on his hair to hear it again. The laugh against your lips is rough as he hauls you closer and changes the kiss. Something more desperate and impatient. Something hot and sweaty and slightly messy. You might be walking as Bucky finds something to press you up against or lay you down on, and you almost squawk in surprise as you fall back onto the double, motel bed.

Though before you can say anything else, Bucky is on you again, his mouth demanding and greedy against yours. His hands feel and grab and squeeze every inch of you and you grind your hips upward for his weight. You want his heaviness between your hips and on your stomach and against your chest.

Growing impatient, convinced that Bucky’s brain might no longer be working, you lock your ankles around his hips and pull him down between your legs, sighing a groan of relief at the feeling of him tucked against you so warmly.

“God dammit,” he grunts and gives one luxurious roll of his hips against yours, making you whine as your pulse hammers down in your core.

His mouth grazes against your neck now and you can hardly breathe, panting as if you’ve run a marathon. The pressure between your hips leaves as he moves further down and you buck your hips at the ache he leaves.

“Bucky,” you whimper and look down, heart slamming in your throat at the sight of him. He messily yet gently makes his way down your body. Hands roughly pushing up your shirt as his lips find the plane of your stomach, kissing from your bra, down to your hips that you can’t seem to keep still.

Your body feels so heavy, yet so light without him on top of you and you can’t remember any moment before this kiss. Before five minutes ago. Everything is solidified. Your entire history with him. And Bucky presses a kiss just below your navel that confirms that feeling, his hands peeling off your jeans. That is until he speaks.

“Listen to me,” he orders and you freeze at the sound of him. He’s only sounded like that during missions where either of you might die. So serious and detrimental. “Don’t ever try to build a life without me again.”

“Bucky–”

“No,” he snaps and you close your mouth. “Don’t ever pretend like we don’t exist. Like you and I aren’t supposed to do this shit together, like you are better off without me, like I am better off without you. That’s bullshit.” You give him a questioning look. Where is this coming from? “I’m going to kiss you and you are going to forgive me. And then I am going to kiss you some more.”

He waits then. For you to answer, to process what it is he is saying exactly. It’s a lot of words with a lot of meaning, yet you’re not sure if this is the declaration you didn’t know you were waiting for.

So you speak from your gut and let out a breath, “Finally.”

Bucky smiles at that and surges upward, clearly happy with that intuitive answer. His lips claim yours once again and then you feel his fingers inching up your thigh.

You whine softly against his lips and you feel him smile as his fingers reach your drenched core. Two fingers slip through your folds to explore your wetness and Bucky drops his head into the crook of you neck.

“Finally indeed,” he breathes and slips his middle finger into you, making you whimper and buck your hips.

The stretch against your swollen walls sends an ache through your abdomen that cries out for more. You cannot explain the desperation to have him, to have every empty pit of you filled with his essence. His finger curls up and you throw your head back, making Bucky raise his own head to look at you.

“There?”

You nod frantically and Bucky pushes in another finger, making you tense up around him. He curls that one too and you don’t recognise the sound spilling from your lips. You’re already so fucking full.

As Bucky teasingly darts his thumb over your swollen clit, he traces his tongue over your mouth and you gasp for air at the sensation.

“Bucky, fuck!” you cry and he pushes his mouth to yours in a claiming kiss, his fingers moving faster as his thumb rotates over your clit. You can barely kiss him back, overtaken by pleasure as he pumps his fingers over and over until you can hear your wetness surround his sinful fingers.

It is by far the hottest thing you have ever experienced. So much time has passed and now this beast of a man who tries everything to make you blush with his flirty persona, is bent over you with his fingers peeling your pleasure to the surface like his own fucking release depends on it.

His chest is heaving from watching you, brows pulled together, eyes dark as they rake over you hungrily, muscles flexing as his hand disappears between your legs.

His leg slips beneath your knee and pulls your leg up to finger you in a different angle and your nails bury themselves in the muscles of Bucky’s neck, abdomen flexing at the wave of pleasure that courses through you. “More. Oh my God, more!”

“I know, I can feel it,” he grunts and slows his fingers. “But I’ve waited ages for this. I refuse to let it be over so soon.”

Your brain is nothing but cinders and you shake your head violently, “No! No, please. You can have everything, just let me come. Please.”

Bucky pecks your lips. Once. Twice.

“You want to come all over my hand, pretty girl?” he murmurs in your ear and you can only gasp at the press of his fingers against your spot. “Can I lick you up after?”

You clench around him like a vice, his low voice making you drip onto his palm, his words incinerating what is left of your pride. You can only nod, so you do. And his hand starts moving again. Faster, deeper, more thorough. You keep nodding, your moans raising, your pleasure retreating like a snake ready to strike. Oh God, oh God, oh God–

“Come.”

Your hips fly to the ceiling when you come, thighs trembling and closing around his hand. Bucky keeps moving and thrusting and curling until he has wrung all of your pleasure from your body and you feel like you’re made of jelly. Your voice is hoarse from yelling your release and the sheets below are drenched with your desire.

Soft kisses are pressed to your face and that is how you return from whatever plane of existence you went to. His gentle laugh makes you shiver and you open your eyes to find him licking his fingers like there is caramel dripping from them. You swallow hard and zero in on that action, making his eyes sparkle.

But something changes when you reach up to stroke his hair and his eyes flutter. Your eyes rove over his face in admiration and your entire soul sighs at the sight of him. Bucky looks down at you curiously and cocks his head.

“What is it?” he asks and you chew your lip, trying to find the words.

“You and me, huh?” you murmur with something like wonder in your voice. Bucky can only nod. You continue, “Who would’ve thought…”

Bucky leans down and kisses you. Soft, slow, deep. It makes your body sing. And he shuffles back to make himself at home between your legs. Though as he does that, he remains his focus on kissing you. Deeper, more, desperate. Depraved. He moans and breathes and you swear you hear him whimper, his hips grinding over your oversensitive cunt as he gets lost in kissing you.

Raking your nails over his scalp, you once again wrap your legs around his hips and pull him down. And if Bucky hadn’t snapped his leash just yet, this does it. He turns wild and passionate and heavy. One hand of his and one hand of your own both reach down, messily working together to get rid of his jeans. He shimmies out of them, not bothering to get rid of them entirely, but bothering to at least take off his shirt.

Your fingers drag down his pecks and abdomen, trying to memorise every curve and edge with what little brain capacity you have left. You feel like no more than a flame, no more than passion and want and need. And when Bucky slides his bare cock through your folds to slicken himself, you shudder so violently, your breath shudders with it.

“Woman, you are going to kill me,” he breathes and nips at your lips.

You almost growl with impatience, “Then fuck me and die already.”

He laughs, bold and happy, before thrusting into you in a long stroke. Home. Oh fuck, he’s home. Both of you freeze, taking in the moment of being fused together before he slowly pulls out and out and out. And sliding back in with an agonizing thrust.

Something in you clicks. Something so vital, so necessary. And Bucky feels it too.

“Yes,” he groans and presses another kiss to your lips, like he can’t get enough. “This is it.”

You nod and close your eyes in pleasure. In relief. You shudder with emotion and clamp onto him. Bucky keeps pressing kisses to your skin. Your neck, your lips, your cheek, temple, forehead.

“This is it,” you choke out and Bucky smiles. “You’re it.”

Bucky breathes a sigh, as if he’s been waiting ages for you to admit it. “Finally.”

Infinity War.

Biting your lip and bouncing your leg, you try to let the rumble of the swift jet calm your nerves. Your eyes search the cabin and go over the confusing screens for the thousandth time.

“Nervous?” Natasha’s sensual voice sounds next to you and you force a smile.

“Why would I be nervous?” you ask and smirk at her. “We’re only stepping into a war with the probability of us winning being like…” Zero? Less than zero? You sigh, “I don’t want to think about that.”

She bites back her own smirk and raises her eyebrows. “Wasn’t talking about the war. Are you nervous about seeing him?”

Bucky.

You glare at her after quickly glancing around to see if anyone heard her, making Natasha try even harder to hold back a smile.

Yes, you were nervous to see him. So much had happened. So many aspects of your spy work had suddenly intermingled and now you are fighting along with the Avengers. Even after you were sure they had torn themselves apart over Bucky. Being caught in the middle of that had put you and Bucky’s relationship –if you could even call it that– so far to the back of both your minds, you barely had time to mention it to anyone until Steve shipped him off to Wakanda to get some real help.

You and Bucky were over before it even started and you think that maybe it’s for the better. Neither you nor Bucky are any good at that relationship shit anyway. It showed over and over.

Luckily enough, you’d found plenty of distraction being on the run with Sam, Natasha and Steve. No Bucky in sight, but knowing he was safe and taken care of. Private mission after mission with other people you cared about, people who didn’t know about you and Bucky, one of them eager to forget about Bucky himself.

You barely gave it any thought.

Except you thought of Bucky every day.

And now you get to see him again. However, if any time would make you reconsider any commitment at all, it would be now.

“No,” you answer and then turn serious. “I mean, I was. But now I’m just preparing myself for either grief, or death.”

“Are those our only options?” she asks with a displeased frown. “Why not prepare for victory or somethin’?”

Giving her a long and hard stare, you sigh deeply. “Yeah. You’re right. If I die, I might as well die hopeful.”

“That’s my girl,” she grins and you bump her shoulder with yours, finding your own smile breaking through.

That’s when Steve gives Sam the coordinates to fly through a barrier and show you the hidden – and beautiful – kingdom of Wakanda. So you ignore every jittery feeling you have in your stomach at possibly seeing Barnes again, and you channel it all into hope.

…

Natasha strokes her hand over your shoulder as you walk up to king T’Challa, who’s flanked by his closest guard and a palace that screams to get you on your knees to worship. You barely hear the conversation the king has with Steve, partly because you’re still in awe of the beautiful place around you.

Now this, this is a refuge.

“How are we lookin’?” Natasha asks from next to you and that’s when you start to pay attention. You’d need a hell of a lot of man-power to win this.

“You will have my Kings Guard,” T’Challa starts, “the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and…”

“A semi-stable hundred-year-old man,” finishes a voice that makes your entire system dysregulate. Oh God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard the warm timber of that voice.

You notice your hands have started shaking and clutch them behind your back, squeezing courage out of them to face your past, as Bucky Barnes walks up to hug Captain America.

“How’ve you been, Buck?” Steve asks and Bucky answers with a heart-stopping smile.

“Uh, not bad,” he answers, “for the end of the world.”

They share another warm look before Steve turns to everyone behind him and then to the king, “Should we prepare?”

A few minutes later, you’re following the king inside with all of his closest guards and your own team, which now includes Bucky. Focusing your eyes on everything around you, you barely notice the large hand slipping around your elbow and pulling you into another hallway.

You know better than to scream for help and you use the momentum to swing the person around and pin them to the nearest wall with a knife to their throat. But the air rushes from you when you stand face to face with Bucky.

“There she is,” he grins and slowly raises his hands in surrender.

You back away slowly and look at him like a gaping fish, your insides pounding and swirling and thrashing as your body heats with adrenaline. It’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

“New arm?” you ask him, your voice coming out surprisingly steady, and he glances at the appendage, flexing his hand between your faces.

“Yeah, you like it?” he asks and he almost sounds like a young boy, genuinely interested in what you think of it, of him.

And you calm. Everything inside of you settles and the heat turns to warmth. Your insides seem to melt with relief and you throw your arms around his neck, almost tipping over until Bucky’s arms automatically slide around your waist to pull your pliant body tightly against his. He’s so big and strong and warm.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughs softly and one hand starts to stroke your hair gently as you huff out a sob into his neck. “Oh, sweet girl. You’ve never been sad to see me before.”

You finally pull back and cup his face as he lets you survey him closely, him grinning widely at the worry in your every feature. You breathe, “You’re good. You’re safe.”

He nods and takes your hands, pressing a kiss to your palm. “So are you,” he whispers and you nod.

“Not for long,” you add, deflated.

He gives you a sad smile. “Now, who would we be if we didn’t go down fighting, hm?”

You smile slightly at that. “Back on the same team.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and the planet stops turning.

“Finally.”

The Blip.

Another knock sounds and you roll your eyes, throwing on a quick cardigan as you hop over to your door. Unusual, for your quiet, lonely evenings to get interrupted like this. You’re ready to cash in what you can only assume is some complaining neighbour or your awful land lord when you open the door and are met with a familiar face that makes your heart squeeze together.

“Steve,” you breathe.

“Hey.”

You step aside to let him in and take a deep breath.

“Want something to drink?” you ask as you close the door behind him and let him venture into your home. Or, whatever you have tried to turn into your home. It had never been more than the latest home trends and some empty picture frames.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I found you?” he asks and you get a feeling of déjà vu.

But you shake your head with a forced smile, “I left a trace for Natasha to track for emergencies. I know how you found me.” You give him a pointed look and Steve actually has the decency to look slightly apologetic.

That look tells you enough about how much of an emergency this is and you wonder what prompted Natasha to decipher your code and hand your location to the Captain. Maybe he was the one breaking and could use a familiar face. Maybe something turned him awfully worried about you. Maybe-

No.

“Aren’t you mad that Natasha told me?” he asks unsurely and you give him a tight-lipped smile, taking a seat in one of your dining table chairs and ushering for him to do so as well.

“Would you believe me if I said that it’s actually quite nice to see a familiar face after five pretty lonely years?” you refute and he gives you a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you, too, Kid.”

A comfortable silence settles between you two and you fidget with your hands, staring at them intently before raising your face back to Steve. “Why are you here, Cap?”

He lets out a long sigh. “Ever since the Blip,” he starts and you can feel him debating whether to continue, “I never– I didn’t get to tell you how sorry I am about Bucky.”

You freeze and slowly turn your gaze to him. “Okay. Now I am pissed at her.”

“Natasha didn’t tell me,” he quickly assures and you raise a brow at him. “He did.”

You fall quiet at that. “Bucky told you about…”

“What,” he laughs. “Didn’t think you two were serious enough for him to tell his best friend about it?”

You reply with a humourless laugh of your own. “He um– He wasn’t a very committing guy. And I don’t blame him. Why commit to something if you might lose everything all over again?”

The pity in Steve’s gaze feels burning to your skin. “Well, if you’re that scared of losing something, it might be worth committing to,” he says and you find yourself agreeing with the wise bastard.

“Well, I committed and look where I am now,” you huff. “Turns out, he was right all along.”

“Kid–”

“Why are you here, Cap?” you try again, all of a sudden too eager to get rid of him.

It takes a while for him to answer and dread settles low in your belly. When he starts talking, you’ve already started shaking your head. “We have found a way to bring them all back.”

You still. And you stay like that. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe another five years have passed.

“Did you hear what I said?” he tries.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. We figured out a way. Time travel.”

You bark a laugh and give him a pointed glare. However, your vision is already slightly impaired by the tears pooling at your waterline. “Don’t,” you stop him before he continues elaborating. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this in the past five years? That you, or Nat, or even Tony fucking Stark himself would stand at my door and tell me we figured it out? About a million times, Cap. And the more normal this delusional scenario became in my head, the more absurd it seemed to be. And now, you expect me to just believe that nearly five years on the dot, you have figured out a way to return everything to normal?!”

Steve can take it, the sudden outburst of your disbelief. He has definitely encountered a whole lot more scepticism in his life. But his heart breaks a little for you. Bucky had tried to be so casual when he finally told Steve about you, but Steve had caught the sparkle in those hundred-year-old eyes and he couldn’t describe the relief of Bucky having found someone, let alone you.

But now, to see you so far removed from Bucky – from hope. He hates it.

“I waited,” he almost whispers. “Until I was completely sure. We need you for this.”

You blink away your tears and one rolls down your cheek. Steve quickly reaches to catch it and cups your face. A touch normally so very unwelcome, but now you cannot help but bury your face in his palm.

“You’re sure?” you ask, voice breaking.

Steve pulls you in and up to his chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “Time to bring our best friend back, Kid.”

Time Travel.

You cannot help but smile when you see the handsome brainiac hunched over a laptop near some high-tech stage that you can’t seem to look at too long without talking yourself out of this.

“Hey, Tony,” you say quietly as you walk up and his brown eyes light up when he hears your voice. Stepping away from the screen, he opens his arms wide and pulls you into a tight hug. Another comfortable embrace that you can only breathe in and cherish.

“My favourite spy,” he murmurs and pulls back.

“How are you doing?” you ask him.

He gives you a knowing look. “Oh, you know. Good. Until he showed up,” he sneers with a pointed look at Steve, who simply rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he has a way of interrupting peace.”

Tony snorts. “Now that, is what I call a paradox.”

You laugh and pat his shoulder, “Pepper and Morgan?”

“They’re wonderful.” He grins, but you can see the fear shining in his eyes and you give his shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Thank you for doing this, Tony.”

He smirks in answer. “I swear, if you and Barnes don’t openly kiss after all I am about to sacrifice, I will find the stones and undo both of your existences.”

You shoot a thunderous glare to Steve, and to Natasha who is walking up behind the Captain. But Tony stops you before you can scold them on their horrible secret-keeping skills, “Pepper told me.”

You grit your teeth.

The Avengers are a bunch of gossips.

The Endgame.

You stumble backward, your sprained ankle and broken ribs somehow only a faint ache over the sight before you. You almost trip over debris, or a body, or just air and you keep blinking to see better or to make it all go away, you don’t know.

He did it. Tony did it. You’re sure you can still feel the snap of his fingers vibrate through your spine. And there he is. Slumped against more debris, half of his face cracked like burnt coal, his suit barely reflecting its original colours. The blue light at the centre of his chest is fading, shuttering and then… it goes dark. With Pepper’s hand over it.

Your own hand barely muffles the sob trying to break through and you stumble over and over again as you back away from that horrible, awful reality. He did it. But at what cost?

You turn around and start jogging. How? You’re not sure. Your body is in no state to hurry. But it’s incomplete. You were barely strong or extraordinary enough to be of any help during the fight, but you tried your best. Helping people in the field, some war medic patching up gushing wounds. You’d cashed some punches and kicks yourself. Dealt them, too.

It was all because you needed to be there. Because you needed to stay alive. Needed to stick around to see him again. And now… Now… You barely survived this, barely made it through. And Tony died. Tony Stark. The chance of him still being out there-

You start running faster. Hobbling and grunting from the pain.

“Bucky,” you voice is raw and frantic, it’s barely a sound as you cry out for him. “Bucky! Bucky!”

Head swinging from side to side, you hope the soldier reveals himself from behind one of the plumes of smoke. Further and further away, you flee from the horrifying scene of whatever is left after Thanos. You need to find him, but you can’t identify anything on this war ground.

If he’s dead. If Bucky is dead–

Your head whips around so fast, your neck might crack, when you’re sure you hear your name. Everything about you goes quiet and you hold your breath like it will make any difference. Slowly, you walk in the direction where you assume the sound came from, but you almost cringe at the idea that you might just be going insane. After all those explosions, your hearing can’t possibly be this sharp.

Though perhaps intuition is at play here, because you’ve always been able to feel him. Always knew it when it was him waiting up for you, or looking for you, or needing you.

“Bucky,” you croak again.

“Here…” It’s so quiet. But you hear it over everything else and follow the echo of the sound.

“Bucky,” you rasp out. “I’m coming!”

And there he is. On hands and knees, struggling to get up. You can only describe your approach as a dive, as you clash onto your wobbly knees and wrap your arms around him. His body instantly stops struggling and falls into your rib cage.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

“Yeah,” he groans. “’M right here.”

You had no idea you were sobbing it to him, but you don’t care as your hands grapple for a better hold of him. He does the same until both of you are kneeling in front of each other, cupping each others’ faces to check for injuries.

“You look pretty all roughed up,” he mutters and you smile through your tears.

“You look awful,” you reply and he chuckles before pulling you into his chest. “But you’re home.”

He shudders and you might actually hear him let out a sob of his own as he tightens his grip on you.

“Finally.”

#SLOW BURNNNN #I looove their dynamic okay #lots of dialogue which we all love #some action and fluff and passion adn efgedksbf i love them ok?! #PLease tell me what you think and if this is maybe too long... #it's a bit intimidating i get that but it's an easy read i promise #ok i love you guys #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #writing #bucky barnes fluff

[direwombat]

another wip wednesday another wdoller

tagged by @ivymarquis (tysm~!)

tagging: @cassietrn, @poetikat, @confidentandgood, @trench-rot, @strafethesesinners, @miyabilicious, @simplegenius042, @g0dspeeed, @inafieldofdaisies, @josephslittledeputy, @adelaidedrubman, @madparadoxum, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @voidika, @strangefable, and anyone else wanting to share something today! (please like/reply to this post if you want to be added to the wip wednesday taglist!)

considering i just posted ch5 of katc a few days ago, interlude ii doesn't have anything that's anywhere near ready to share, so please take this werewolf au snippet (and a bonus smutty kitsybjake snippet for the fic i've been trying to write since...february...affectionately dubbed "the muzzle fic")

werewoof au

“Any idea what done this?” Sybille asks. 

The coroner gives a small shrug. “Best I can tell? Some kind of animal.” 

“An animal?” Her brows shoot up in surprise. “You tellin’ me an animal burst through a barricaded door, mauled, beheaded, and cracked Mr. Wolanski’s skull like a coconut, and then — what? — decided to do some redecoratin’?” 

“I think I’m gonna vomit,” Staci mutters. 

“Not in the crime scene!” the coroner exclaims at the same time Sybille squeezes Pratt’s shoulder and urges, “Go get some air.” 

Pratt swallows thickly and nods, politely excusing himself before slipping out the front door.

The coroner turns to stare at her with exhausted apathy. “You’re asking me what killed Mr. Wolanski,” he says slowly, as if addressing a child. “In the absence of gunpowder, shell casings, or any other signs of a weapon being used against him and the abundance of trauma consistent with the kind typically found among the victims of wolf attacks, yes — I am concluding that the cause of death can most likely be attributed to an animal.”

She crosses her arms and shoots the man an exasperated look. By no means is she an expert on lupine behavior, but never has she heard of a wolf ripping off a person’s skull cap to get at their brains. It’s too much effort for fairly little gain -- at least, compared to the easy, meaty flesh of the torso. 

 He scribbles something on his clipboard and then looks at her pointedly over the rims of his glasses. “I’ve told you the what, Deputy. Figuring out the why is your job. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” A curt nod is all she’s afforded before he’s shoving past her to instruct his team to finish up bagging things to analyze back at the lab. 

Her feet remain rooted to the hardwood floor for a moment, watching the man’s back in mild disbelief as he walks away. With a small shake of her head, she pulls herself form where she stands and exits through the front door to go find Staci. 

The poor man is leaning against their squad car, hunched over and breathing into a paper bag. She nearly walks over to him, but when she catches Eli’s eye from where he also stands just beyond the crime scene tape, she pivots over to him. Ducking underneath the yellow ribbon surrounding the property, she crosses the distance between them in a few brisk strides and pulls him in for a hug. His arms wrap around her, and she feels some of the tension in his shoulders melt away in her embrace. 

“How you holdin’ up?” she asks

He squeezes her tight and buries his face against her neck. “‘Bout as well as you can after finding your best friend ripped to shreds,” he says thickly. 

the muzzle fic (this is straight up smut so no pressure to read if you don't want to <3)

The sight of both of them makes Sybille’s mouth water, and every breathy groan she pulls from them goes straight to her own cunt. Her jaw hangs slack, eyes glazing over. Her chest heaves with every breath, and drool dribbles from the corners of her mouth, drenching her chin and dripping off the metal of the muzzle. 

Her entire world narrows to fulfilling a singular purpose: pleasing her Masters. The edges of her senses blur, blocking out all other stimuli so that she can focus on the tasks literally in her hands. She can’t take her eyes off them, watching as they take their pleasure from her. Her ears are finely attuned to the soft gasps and grunts as they buck their hips into her hands; and her nose filled with the heavy, heady scent of sex, so thick in the air that she can almost taste it. 

She wants to taste it.

She leans forward to bury her face in Kit’s cunt, wanting so badly to taste the juices flowing down the other woman’s thighs. Hell, she’d even lick up the droplets that have fallen to the ground. But when she leans in, the muzzle knocks against Kit’s mound. The cold metal presses against her clit and Kit gasps. Her eyes fly open and she looks down at Sybille.

That look of surprise quickly turns lecherously wicked. Her nails rake pleasingly across Sybille’s scalp and she clicks her tongue condescendingly. “Aww,” she coos in mock sympathy, “you thirsty?”

Sybille nods frantically. Her tongue lolls out of her mouth, eager to taste her. Her hips rock, her breath going shallow as she leans forward, pulling against the chain. The supple leather of her collar digs into her throat, restricting her airways. “Yes…” she rasps, “please.” 

Kit hums thoughtfully and drags a knuckle down Sybille’s cheekbone. Then, she slaps her, just hard enough to make her flinch. “Too bad.”

A desperate sound is torn from her chest and she turns her pleading eyes to Jacob, begging for mercy. 

Mercy that’s nowhere to be found. 

“Only good girls get to use their mouths,” he says, and he very pointedly drags Kit in for a lengthy kiss. Their lips move roughly together, all prodding tongues and biting teeth, and she wants nothing more than for them to kiss her like that too. When they pull away both their lips are swollen and Jacob looks at her with a taunting smile. “You haven’t been a good girl.”

“I can be,” she whines. “Please. Please, I can be good.” 

#getting that last chapter of katc out took up a lot of brain power so the writing front has been slow on other things #but...ta dah #the muzzle fic really is mostly for myself and skelly but please enjoy some syb rocketing into subspace #murder gingers were. displeased. with her getting bite-y post-trials so they decided to take some punitive action #syb just wants to be good ;w; (or rather she wants /them/ to tell her she's good... which there is a difference lmao) #whining wombat

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

Another uncommon shipping I think would work is Sonia and Nagito. She seems very pleased the way his eyes lit up during the trial like hers do during horror movies and she stuck up for him later on too. I’m a little afraid of him having that much power though…

Ahaha I actually had an au for them post-graduation in a non-despair time in which Nagito is traveling to Novoselic after having won a cruise trip there. And, though he would have avoided long travel, considering that his old classmate happened to be ruling said kingdom, Nagi thought he’d take the risk in order to get a chance to see her in action (plus he’s wanted to see the kingdom after learning so much about it through Sonia). Surprisingly nothing too catastrophic happens on the way and Nagito has a pleasant time taking in the sights. However, he starts noticing that not everything is rainbows and sunshine in Novoselic, and in fact many of its citizens seem rather displeased by the current government. This becomes all too clear when, during a public appearance/announcement made by none other than Sonia herself, Nagito overhears copious jeers towards the princess and even has to step in to stop someone from throwing a shoe at her—the scene causing Nagito’s presence in the kingdom to be known to Sonia. Sonia has a guard escort Nagito to her home, feeling utterly embarrassed of having him witness such a thing. It doesn’t take long for her to come clean of Novoselic’s troubles—more specifically the staggering amount of people who find her inadequate to rule and are opposed to her upcoming coronation. Sonia admits that she’s been lost in what to do ever since her parents sudden passing and feels she’s starting to agree with her citizen’s thoughts of being a failure of a ruler. She’s truly considering giving the crown to her cousin whom some of the citizens are supporting. Nagito’s heart went out to her, knowing fully well the feeling of losing one’s parents so unexpectedly, but to also be expected to lead a nation right after? My god the amount of stress must be astounding. To see the Ultimate Princess this…broken…it was blasphemous. And like hell he’s going to let her give up her crown and fall to despair—not if he can do anything about. So, Nagito offers his services. He reminds Sonia of what great things she’s done and is capable of doing, but what she really needs is support—someone on her corner. And though he may be a lowly nobody, he DOES understand a thing or two about politics (and manipulation). He’ll be her shoulder to cry on so she can turn to her citizens with a collected and confident face. He’ll be her test run when she’s unsure of an idea. He’ll be her eyes and ears to keep track of the masses and their tidying. He’ll be her anything and everything she needs in order to be the best beacon of Hope she can be. And my god does he really mean it.

Of course, this au wasn’t simply going to be a hurt/comfort with a happy ending. Oh no, no, not with Nagito. It would soon get twisted and quite complicated as many things do with him. And their ever intertwining relationship will set Sonia forth as a queen that Novoselic with surely remember.

Oh my god this ask really unlocked these old ass memories of this au that I legit just came up with after listening to Imagine Dragon’s “Enemy” once ☝️ I was like “but what if Nagito becomes Sonia’s advisor and makes her Novoselic’s most notorious ruler??” I didn’t think I still remembered this much of it but here we are lol

#I once again lament the fact that I do not have the attention span to write a multichap fic #this would definitely have been a slow burn--them slowly bonding especially over their dead parents #the mutual attraction growing #would have been rated: E for every time we touch I get this (sexual) feeling #i just imagine like…Mahiru visiting Novoselic as a photo journalist and then #being flabbergasted at seeing Nagito as Sonia’s advisor #she arrives later as the voice of reason to try to make Sonia notice #how manipulative he is and how questionable some of her actions are #but Mahiru is an outsider too and doesn’t always know the full situation #nor know how hard it is to rule an entire kingdom that still has group of people #who disliked your existence even before taking the crown and have attempted to assassinate you #there would be so much drama lololol #I think I had two endings: one where Sonia and Nagi end up together as King and Queen and have a relatively happy ending #and another that ends tragically with the citizens revolting and taking Sonia’s life a la 18th century France #im so sorry if you wanted an analysis this au just kinda…took over… #nmbh0051 #danganronpa #komaeda nagito #sonia nevermind #sonagito #fala replies #a e i o queue

[vegaseatsass]

So one of my favorite underrated elements of Gap was just how much damn fun the group of friends is. Raucous mean girls who turn their bullying to good when they become the lesbian village it takes to raise a Sam. I never finished Secret Crush On You but the friends groups in that were also the stars of what I saw of the show. So I'm really really really happy Idolfactory is continuing this trend in The Sign! The groupchat cannot shut UP about Yai. Laura called him revolutionary: the first straight man hag. We cannot get enough.

#the biggest revelations for me so far were 1. this is not (as the teaser i watched a year ago led me to believe) actually a cop action drama #it is a past lives mythology monsterboy drama with some cop action on the side #if i had known that i would have started so much sooner!! but alas i was off tumblr #so instead i just got to be surprised and enthralled! and full of monstergirl monsam daydreams #2. you can write a super buff straight man i find unpleasant to look at and instantly turn him into my favorite character #just by making him (LITERALLY) applaud his gay friends' sex lives #khem tells the story of his first time with thongthai and the crowd goes wild! the crowd is yai #his slow-beaming delight any time queer homies in his vicinity get together #his supreme overinvestment in shipping tharn with phaya past all sense and reason #it is a delight i was thoroughly unprepared for #waiting to find out he was from like the cupid species in his past life #anyway i can't actually look at anythingggg anyone else is saying until we're caught up #but i'm really enjoying myself! ty tumblr!!! #the sign #idolfactory #dear diary

[hella1975]

ok you’ve convinced me to watch bsd so where can I watch it? and do I need to read the comics? if so, in what order and where can I read them?

EEK OMG YAY! okay so one thing about me im a little student girlie #ihaventboughtmilkinaweek so i will always consume media the free way lmao. the site i read the bsd manga on is 'bsdmanga.com' which seems very legit but does also do pop ups a lot for me so just make sure you've got an adblock going. if you want to properly buy them though ive seen bsd being sold in almost every waterstones! as for the anime, the sub and dub were both free on crunchyroll AND funimation back when i first started watching it, but not anymore bc everything is awful. the main less-legit site i use for anime is 'animesuge' and that has it there :)

#animesuge has literally never let me down i swear by it but like i said im p sure it's not as official #so again just be sure you've got an adblock! #okay okay back to bsd SO there's 4 seasons (the 4th currently airing!) as well as a spin-off called bsd wan that's more silly/lighthearted #and also two films in the form of dead apple (my favourite anime film of all time) and the beast live action #that i havent watched yet bc my go-to piraters are LETTING ME DOWN #as for the manga it's a tad confusing at first glance so i'll give u a quick rundown bc i promise it's not as intimidating as it seems #like it's a GOOD things that bsd has sooooooo much content like even i havent consumed it all yet im not strong enough #so there's the main manga that's now on chapter 105.5 (a VERY good chapter) #but i started reading where the anime ended (a good halfway through) and havent felt any problem with that #so if u dont want to tackle the entire thing you could do that! #there's also a bunch of light novels that act as prequels and/or is just asagiri writing fanfiction for his own story lmao #like what was beast if not fanfiction come ON #so yeah those are very good also #there's a lot online about what order to watch/read it all in if that bothers you #but honestly you should be fine sticking to the main content (the anime and main manga) and if you like it you can branch out #i watched all the animated content first before i even touched the manga/novels and that worked well for me #i will say i personally found the anime really slow for a while so my rule with reccing bsd is to tell people to at least wait for chuuya #lmfao like once it gets going it GETS GOING and also he is the most character of any media EVER #so just give it a chance! #okay ill stop talking now <3 #bsd #ask

[chikoyama]

(( ... ))

#fazil chirps (ooc) #i’m staring into the blank of void #i don’t hate my workplace i don’t hate working #i just hate the working hours #my colleagues can be kind of exhausting but otherwise they’re okay #it’s just tiring being the brain behind their every action bc they dunno how to problem-solve #i’m running to catch the train every morning bc i can’t bring myself to get out on time #even then i’m late lol #i ran and some dude sittin on a bench gets up and opens him arms #like i was running towards him like long-lost lovers #i just ran straight past him lmao #it was kinda cute but he’s probably way too young #oh yeah i’m still writing it’s just an incredibly slow process sorry

[wolveria]

Ok wait wait wait.

The idea abt the horny pill - just hear me out.

Wolveria - master of writing, what if you wrote a mini mini fanfic of your fanfic that either gives the reader or scp049 the pill (or both of them?). I'm not sure which one would be more interesting, but I think we need the idea to come to life now.

#horny

Obviously nothing long but GAH DAMN I need to know what would happen.

(AAAA what if it gets given to the reader and idk the only way to take the effects off is to do the horny and scp 049 knows that? HOW WOULD SCP 049 REACTTT? Or or or it gets given to the scp and scp049 kinda tries to not give in to it but eventually starts making subtle moves on the reader and uses its super lustful eyes? Ok ok stahp it, myself)

If it's not too much to ask of course :< No pressure if u don't do it, I'm sure you have got a lot on your schedule. Hope ur doing well and sorry for the long read ❤️

I do have a lot on my schedule BUT I also love considering scenarios like this. Ones that won't make it into the main fic but are still so good that they should be written somewhere.

I may consider creating an off-shoot fic (and turn Raven's Hymn into a series) that can be like "In Another Universe" type ideas. Because in the SCP universe, there are literally countless other dimensions and parallel universes, right? So these could be glimpses into those other universes, where maybe Reader or 049 gets a horny pill. We don't even have to stop there, I can add more ideas as you guys come up with them. I think that would be very interesting ;)

And if there's a lot of interest, I could make each chapter be its own one shot exploring different situations. I think that would be only fair, because honestly I'm at about 48k words right now in my word doc, and they only just FINALLY hugged.

Y'all this slow burn killing me, and I want to get to some horny just like the rest of you. So this can be our cheat code to getting there x3 If this is something you guys really want, I'll do it.

#the raven's hymn #anon #update #here's my call to action to get feedback from you guys #i love my slow burn but also i kind of want to hurry up and write some 049 smut already