#no depth doll looking skin scares me and I don't like it and it makes me sad

[matsunosan]

Hi can i request facesitting with Ran?

FACESITTING WITH RAN! - RAN HAITANI X READER

A/N: You have no idea what this man DOES TO ME OMG- I had so much fun with this. I hope you enjoy!! Leave more asks in the ask box loves!

Prompt: Facesitting with Ran!

Summary: You weren't exactly a fan of facesitting, anxious that you would hurt Ran in the process. However, after pushing his buttons, you don't have a choice.

WARNINGS: NSFW, facesitting, pet names, literally pure smut

Word Count: 1,140

Y/N = your name

Y/N/N = your nickname

          The steam from the bathroom slowly crept into your and Ran’s shared bedroom. Your aching body opened the heavy door after a long day at work, deciding to strip yourself of your work clothes and join Ran in his shower for a nice surprise. You quickly unbuttoned your shirt, tossing it to the ground and kicking off your shoes as you made your way to the master bathroom. As you entered, the heat of the steam hit your face. Finally. You desperately wanted to relax, to unwind the tensity of every sore muscle in your body. You took off the last bits of clothing and without a second thought, stepped into the shower. 

          Ran was busy rinsing the soap out of his hair to hear you step in the shower behind him. You took this moment to admire his toned frame. The way that every muscle would flex as he ran his hands through his hair made heat pool down into the depths of your core. You needed him. And you needed him now. Deciding to scare him a bit, you reached a hand out to give Ran’s ass a gentle squeeze as he finished rinsing the suds out of his locks. Ran’s eyes immediately shot open as he whipped around to see who the culprit was. “Jesus Y/N,” he chuckled, letting out a breath. “Don’t scare me like that baby.” You giggled, wrapping your arms around his torso and hugging him close. “I missed you,” you whispered against his skin. “So much.” Ran smiled, knowing that you probably had a rough day at work. He returned the embrace and you took the chance to squeeze at his ass again. “Princess,” Ran used the name to scold you. “If you keep misbehaving, I’ll have to punish you.” So, you squeezed his ass again. 

          Ran told you that your punishment would come after the shower, but it felt like it had already begun. His long fingers traveled swiftly across your body as he washed every inch of your skin delicately. He massaged the knots in your back and shoulders, spending extra time on the spots that made you wince in pain. “My poor baby,” he cooed, hands burning fire through the flesh. “Work’s got you so wound up.” You sighed in response, wishing that the moment would never end. But to your dismay, Ran turned off the shower head once you were clean and stepped out of the shower. He handed you a clean towel to dry yourself off, and as you stepped your way back into the bedroom, he grabbed your wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked slyly, a mischievous grin on his face. “I was just going to grab something to wear,” you responded, tugging lightly at his grip. Ran tightened his hand around you, “Not so sure about that, doll.” You shot him a bratty look before being tugged into his arms. Ran’s chest was flush against your back as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I’m going to make that pretty face of yours beg for mercy.” And he did. 

          Your legs shook nervously as your slick hovered over Ran’s mouth, his hands clasped around your thighs. Ran knew how you felt about facesitting. He fucking knew. You were embarrassed, afraid of losing strength and crushing his handsome face. He would bring it up every now and then, telling you it was a fantasy of his. Ran was desperate to have you sit on his fucking face, and you were always too scared to let it happen. Now, you didn’t have a choice. He told you it was your punishment for misbehaving and you knew what would happen if you disobeyed any further. So here you were, a rambling mess as Ran smiled underneath you, his head resting on a pillow on your shared bed. ‘“R-Ran,” you whined. “Please.” “Please?” he smiled. “Please what? Use your words Y/N.” You didn’t want to give in. You wanted to stand your ground, but you wanted to feel him inside you so fucking bad. “Please let me s-sit on your face,” you said barely above a whisper. You knew that wasn’t good enough. Why in the hell would you even try? Ran loved hearing your sweet words and delicious moans. “Oh my,” Ran’s fingers slowly started to leave your thighs, their support quickly fading. “I couldn’t quite-” “Please let me sit on your face Ran!” you cried. “Now we’re talking.” 

       Ran had never seen you so vocal before. When you begged  him to sit on his face so loudly, he laid there in shock for a moment, his mouth hanging open. He loved having you at his mercy, and his cock twitched violently at the sight. You kneeled there, folds nice and wet from the shower and your slick. Your hair clung to the sides of your face from sweat and each breath shook in anticipation. You were so fucking beautiful. Ran didn’t waste anymore time as his hands returned to your thighs and he harshly brought you down to his mouth. “Fuck Ran,” you sobbed. He gave you no pity, his tongue working its way around your bud like a starved animal. Immediately, your face went numb and you began to lose control over your legs. Ran took note, not stopping his actions as he helped hold you above his head. “R-Ran,” you whined. “It’s too much!” Your shaky hands reached down over his own, holding him in place. As if your words were encouraging, he shifted his grip to replace his tongue with his thumb and his wet muscle switched to dive into your sticky hole. 

          Your breath became labored, the knot in your core tightening at a terrifying pace while Ran ate you out. The room around you spun, vision going blurry from pure pleasure. This man knew how to drive you absolutely insane. You’ve never come undone so fast. One moment Ran has you quivering in his hold, and then you’re screaming his name while your juices coat Ran’s chin. He licked up everything you gave him, not daring to waste a drop. “Look at you princess,” he smiled up at you, panting while he caught his breath. “So fucking gorgeous.” “That was amazing Ran,” you wheezed. “We should have done that sooner.” “I know love,” he replied, helping you down from your perch above his face. “You have no idea how fucking addicting your pussy is.” You blushed heavily at his words, as if you weren’t just getting the life sucked out of you moments before. Ran looked like he was in heaven, his hands at your waist while you sat there on his chest. “I hope you’ve got another round in you, doll,” Ran grinned from ear to ear. 

Shit.

You were really in for it tonight.

#ran haitani x you #tokyo revengers #haitani ran #tokyo revengers fic #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani #haitani brothers #haitani ran imagines #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyorev #tokrev smut #bonten #bonten x y/n #bonten x you #bonten x reader #tokyo rev #tokyo manji gang #tokrev x y/n #tokrev x you #tokrev x reader #tokrev headcanons #ran haitani smut #ran haitani headcanons #ran haitani x y/n

[naraven]

i fee so bad for leaving you all so here a quick skin hc for some of the synthetic beings of genshin! my brain reverted back to its albedo phase and ive always been a long time scara stan so i feel obligated to write a lil something for them :D

cw / describing skin in depth, nothing graphic but some mentions of violence and dismemberment

wc / 600

while being named "chalk prince," i don't think his skin would actually feel all that chalky.

mainly because i think rhinedottir would try not to? it would be weird for albedo to look "non-human" to me

that being said he probably doesn't have normal skin either

if he did, rhine where did you get that from-

i think he would always be room temperature

not like cold-blooded animals who always need a source but also not warm like humans are, in a sense

i think he would have the normal patterns on humans, like fingerprints and pores

the texture of his skin i think could go two ways:

kind of like normal skin but rough

not quite leathery, but the more you feel it the more it feels almost rubbery compared to normal flesh

or, he is just. smooth.

like model levels of good skin

(i'm so jealous i want my skin to look that clean all the time,,,)

i'm debating whether or not he would have body hair?

i'm sure to some extent he would but would he be able to grow more hair,,,?

this goes for scara too how would their bodies make for hair when they can't, y'know,,,

anyways.

he probably doesn't have bones, so if you cut his arm or leg off by accident i think he would just be like all white underneath

if hyv was allowed to show blood i think albedo would be one of the ones who wouldn't

when he gets a papercut do you think he just erodes,,,

since he is probably made of "chalk," i think when bathing or touching water he might turn more chalky

again, rhinedottir would probbaly do something about that, but i like chalk man

i wonder how he digests spiders in his stomach

I LOVE THE BALL JOINT THEORIES!!!!!

maybe ei went far enough to cover him with synthetic flesh, but i love love love the idea of scaramouche with ball joints so,,,

maybe when he is taken in by the people of tatarasuna he still has his "skin" on and throughout the centuries with the fatui he just kind of abandons it

maybe the synthetic skin starts to wear down because he's just a prototype and he hates seeing how he was nothing important so he has a worse quality of fake skin than the raiden shogun-

his fatui subordinates notice that their boss has the body and face of a doll but everyone is too scared to ask why

i think his synthetic flesh would be almost realistic, but of course nothing compared to the real shogun, with his rightful gnosis

kidding. he isn't all that interested in inazuma's affairs at the moment

the porcelain exoskeleton is probably pretty sturdy, i would think

probably almost reflective, polishes when he wants to (he's stinky like that)

he doesn't need anything to keep himself looking pretty he can do that even when covered in dirt and blood tbh

every once in a while dottore or sandrone has to oil parts of his joints that aren't keeping up with his body

after his three betrayals he abandons his human skin because he when he sees himself similar to them he feel disgusted,,,

i think after the archon quest though he would be more comfortable without any fake skin

because he isn't human, he doesn't need to be like them anymore

but while in the past it was because of his contempt for humans, now he feels the world better as air whistles through his knuckles, elbows, knees, neck, etc.

when he would gets hit hard enough that the porcelain breaks, he's probably hollow inside like actual dolls

before again maybe sandrone had to put him back together but now nahida probably helps him pick up the shards and put them back together as best they can

its not as well as it could be, but the material nahida uses are stronger and would probably last longer than whatever sandrone used

nahida and scara friendship real,,,

#albedo #scaramouche #wanderer #genshin impact

[slavicafire]

unnaturally clear skin freaks me out, I'm not going to lie. and I am talking both about airbrushing and photo editing and seventeen steps skincare routines with acids and bleaching, hundred rules of 'never touch your face' and 'never allow sun to touch your face', obsessions about avoiding wrinkles and spots and freckles, makeup covering every pore and unevenness. it's harmful and strange and gets rid of such a wide variety of wonderful and human characteristics, and just makes your face look seven times more boring

#żmija gada #no depth doll looking skin scares me and I don't like it and it makes me sad

[eminems-skittles]

not your fault {bucky barnes x reader}

pairings: bucky barnes x gn!reader  warnings: vague violence, mentions of injury, fluff, angst, use of the nickname doll word count: 0.6k requested: yes based off this request a/n: sorry this request took so long :((((

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

"where is he?" you shouted as you ran through the compound. bucky had gotten stabbed in the shoulder during a routine check. you blamed yourself. you were supposed to be on guard with him but you had got distracted with something in the other room and he couldn't fight all of the attackers at once. which is how you ended up here, frantically searching the compound for your partner.

"y/n," steve said to get your attention. you stopped running and looked at him. "he's in the medwing."

you thanked steve before racing to where he said bucky was. when you got to the all white room, you sighed in relief seeing bucky sitting on the bed. a smile formed on his face when he saw you in the door way.

"hey doll," he said quietly. he reached out his metal arm for you to grab. you placed your hand in his and he pulled you to stand between his legs. he saw the worry in your face as you stared at the bandage on his arm. he put his hand under your chin, guiding you to look at him. "i'm okay, i promise."

you stared at him, unsure if he was telling the truth. nodding, you leant into his touch. "if i hadn't..."

"don't start doing that, doll. it's not your fault," bucky shushed you. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him. "this was not your fault. got it?"

you squeaked out a yes, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

in the days that followed, you stuck to his side like glue. you doted on him, making sure his every need was met. the guilt you felt about his injury did not waiver. the scar on his arm was fading, as if it were a giant paper cut instead of a stab wound. wherever bucky went, you followed. you reached for him whenever you could, silently reassuring yourself that he was indeed okay. 

“doll?” bucky asked while you were laying in bed, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. he rested his palm against your cheek, turning your head to face him. he could see the guilt swirling in the depths of your eyes as you scanned his face for any sign of pain or discomfort.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” you questioned frantically, sitting up. bucky sat up with you, moving his hand to your side.

“nothing’s wrong, doll,” he whispered. his hand slid to your back, sneaking up under your shirt. his thumb skimmed across the skin of your back. “are you alright?”

“don’t worry about me,” you brushed him off. 

“i will worry about you, doll. you’re putting too much of this on you. it’s not your fault.” you looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. his gloved hand came up to your chin, tilting it up so he could see your face. “it’s not your fault. you hear me?”

“it is my fault. if i had been there-”

“if you had been there, you would’ve been the one who ended up hurt. we were outnumbered doll. better me than you hurt,” he mumbled, leaning forward and pressing his head against yours. 

“i was so scared, buck,” your voice was the same volume as his yet it seemed quieter. 

“i know,” he nodded. his voice was so delicate as he spoke. “i was scared too.”

“why?”

“you weren’t in the room. i thought they had got you and that,” he cut himself off. tears were flooding his eyes at the thought of losing you. “i thought that something happened. it distracted me and i was scared i had lost you.”

you didn’t know what to say. you had never seen the winter soldier so vulnerable. so you pressed your lips to his, trying to communicate all of your love in such a short amount of time.

“i love you, doll,” he spoke, his voice louder than before. his arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you to his chest. as if he could still sense your gult, he squeezed you tight. “it’s not your fault.”

#cassie's masterlist #{ writing } #masterlist #{ bucky barnes } #{ marvel } #{ bucky barnes x reader } #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #{ movies } #100

[awilddreamermain]

Hi, Chels! Congratulations!! I'm so happy for you! You deserve every follower and more! That is a threat, I'm holding everyone hostage 🔪

I would love to get a MHA matchup, I wanna see who you'd match me with! Got me so curious! SFW & NSFW if you'd be willing!

My name is Chloe but I prefer May, nicknames include May-May, Maybell or Chlo.

I'm 25, pronouns are she/he, Cancer Moon, Aries Sun and Virgo Rising. Quite the weird mash of zodiacs, huh?

My favorite colors are pink (that soft pastel kinda baby pink), red (especially blood/garnet red) and...can I add pink again? Any shade of pink this time. Bubblegum or hot pink.

Favorite AU's include A/B/O, Mafia, Historical, Fantasy and does Mythical Creatures count?

Oh...oh boy, I gotta look deep for some fun facts that aren't just...facts but I'll do my best!

1) My sneezes are so short and high pitched I go "chu".

2) I have vitiligo, makes me look like a dog because it's mostly around my mouth and my right eye so I have a spot!

3) I have atrocious balance, my knees and shins are always banged up because I cannot for the life of me walk correctly.

4) I have a stutter, on top of speaking so quickly it turns into a jumbled mess. So good luck understanding what I said because I have no idea either.

5) I have a growing unicorn plush collection. My favorite is Cupcake, one that's actually taller than I am. Big chunk.

My likes are pretty simple. Cute & soft sweaters, blankets, warm coffee and strawberry milk, pastries and the cold! Winter is my favorite season. History, particularly the Medieval and Victorian times.

My interests revolve around creativity and you could say they're my hobbies as well. Drawing in particular, I used to do digital but I'm stuck with traditional pencil and paper at the moment. I'm dipping my toes into painting and its very fun! Obviously writing and reading and if I'm not doing of those listed then I'm definitely playing video games.

Personality I might say I'm quite split down the middle. At first, to a complete stranger I might come across as cold, stoic, with a resting bitch face, that just wants to get whatever I'm outside for done so I can leave. I'd create a witty or sarcastic comeback if I was given sass by a Karen but with my speech issues? I'd be lucky to get one coherent word out at her...and spend the rest of the day fantasizing what could've happened. So I'm rather quiet, agoraphobia hits hard in large or crowded places so I'm an anxiety riddled mess on the verge of a panic attack. In private or with people that I'm comfortable with? Complete opposite. Happy, bubbly, cracking puns and jokes so get those groan worthy reactions. I try to be the "mom friend" and get over my issues if someone is having it worse, I'll march up to a counter and ask for ketchup if someone wanted it but was too scared to do it themselves. The shoulder to lean and cry on, I'm highly empathetic and understanding, compassionate at times. But I have to actively try and keep myself positive and say good things about myself because I do fall into the pit of self-loathing and hate.

For appearance I'd say I'm average height, pale with white splotches that are inching larger due to my vitiligo, chubby, ashy blonde, blue eyes, button nose. I'd say I'm decently cute? I don't know if I can rate myself.

Okay I know I said I'd be looking into Zodiac compatibility for this but— I literally just screamed internally "KIRISHIMA" when I was reading this. You two would be perfect omg. This Libra king would do anything for you. For this you're an artist and the daughter of a mafia boss :) I like to think of ship names sometimes so like, yours would either be like Eijmay or Mayjirou or Kiriloe— that last one and first are awful I know so lets go with the second? I can't write a proper stutter for the life of me so I tried to keep your dialogue to the minimum.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ Pairing: Eijirou Kirishima

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AU: Mafia

⠀Theme Song: You're The One That I Want - Alex & Sierra

How you meet (his point of view):

⠀⠀The gallery was full of black and white suits, tight, floor length dresses with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses meeting his ears. It was a joyous evening, celebrating the wonderful art work created by the boss's daughter. He had never met her before but he had heard whispers, all good as no one would dare slander the name of their leader's precious little girl. You were the boss's pride and joy, thus he kept you as far away from the darker side of the family business as possible.

⠀⠀Kirishima was still a new hire, a bodyguard of sorts and would consider this his first gig. He had an idea of who he was looking for as he walked further into the mass of people admiring your work but didn't expect what he would eventually come across. You were as far away from the crowd as you possibly could be, guzzling glasses of wine and over all appearing to be a deer in headlights. He couldn't fugure out for the life of him why you seemed so frightened until he watched people approach you to talk, noticing the stutter in your voice when you replied to questions and greetings,your body language telling people to stear clear of you.

⠀⠀So, he did what he was hired to do. "Kindly step away from the lady." He said with a smile, approaching with his large arms crossing over his broad chest as he towered over the guests. They looked at him as if he were a giant shark looking to devour them before scurrying away, leaving the two of you alone. He stood quietly, listening to the voices on the other side of his ear piece as his ruby eyes scanned the area around you. He made sure to not stand so close and avoided in letting his gaze wander.

⠀⠀He couldn't help but admire your skin in quick glances, finding the spot over your eye to be quite adorable. Your silky, ask blonde hair was all dolled up for the event, light make up on your face but not enough to cover the vitiligo. You were stunning and his heart hammered against his chest. So the rumors were true.

⠀⠀You thanked him, voice quiet and careful as you set down your wine glass and clasped your hands together. Out of the corner of his eye he watched you twiddle your thumbs. You didn't want to be here, did you? This obviously wasn't your idea, how could it be? A girl like you, timid as a mouse, didn't want to be surrounded by strangers. "Miss..." He began, thinking carefully because the last thing he wanted to do was piss off the boss and likely get himself killed. But this was his job wasn't it? Making sure you were happy and safe? "Would you like to leave here for a bit? We'll come back of course, but you look like you need some air."

Extra.

He ended up taking you to a drive thru restaurant and got you whatever you wanted, letting you talk about whatever you wanted or sat quietly if you chose not to talk at all If it was quiet in the suv then that was fine too, he just wanted to help you in any way he could. Eventually the silence becomes small talk and then leads to a rather deep conversation about whatever the hell was going on inside that beautiful brain of yours. Kirishima wasn't the smartest man but he wasn't stupid, he wasn't as clueless as most thought he was. You told him how your father made you do this as an attempt to get you out there, to socialize and possibly find a suitor. This was the mafia after all.

The Confession:

⠀⠀It was a tradition now, every Sunday you and Eijirou would go to your favorite café to have coffee and enjoy the early day weather before it got too hot. You sit at the same table, in the same chairs with him facing the door. You get the same drinks and food and just overall enjoy each others company. After that night at the gallery you two became fast friends, which your father obviously had to approve of but thankfully he did. Kirishima was a good man, he's trustworthy and puts you before himself.

⠀⠀The day he approached your father and asked to speak in private was the day he knew he was likely to get thrown in the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean. He has confessed his feelings for you to your old man, who listened intently with a blank face behind his desk. "Sir, I'm in love with your daughter, and with your blessing I'd like to... court her." He was utterly terrified when your father cleared his throat and sighed, shifting where he sat so he could stand and move around the desk. He reached out for a handshake which Kirishima looked up at him with a questioning look.

⠀⠀Your father gave his blessing and now... He just had to tell you, his best friend, that he loved you. God he loved you so much— "Kiri," you interrupted his thoughts, bringing him crashing back to reality," a-are you alright? You seem nervous." He swallowed hard in response but cleared his throat, taking a sip of his cappuccino.

⠀⠀"Oh yeah— definitely." He breathed with a laugh, moving a hand to the back of his neck to scratch. How was he going to say it? "So, uh—" he licked his lips, adjusting himself in his seat multiple times until he groaned and leaned forward. "Fuck, I'm just gonna say it— Maybell, I love you. I have for a long time now and I talked to your father and he said—"

⠀⠀"Said what, Eijirou?" Your eyes widened at his confession and he felt like a complete idiot. Should he had said something to you first? Was this a mistake? What if you didn't feel the same way? God his mind was going to explode—

⠀⠀"That I could... court you. With your permission." You were quick to nod and smile to his surprise, which prompted a grin if his own.

Extra.

Kirishima HAS to be facing the door in any public place you go to. I don't make the rules.

He never let's you walk close to the road, he has to be between you and it at all times when you're walking.

He oders your food and drinks for you when you can't but is there for moral support when you do. He wants you comfortable and happy. He wouldn't ever dare get in your way though, you're a lot stronger and braver than most may think you are.

The Relationship:

⠀⠀On days like this, Kirishima can't help but admire you. He catches himself staring wuite often but he just can't help it. What did he do to deserve such a beautiful partner? He looks at you and all he can think about is how much he loves you and wants to see you smile. He watched you from the kitchen island, leaning against it as you waltz around the kitchen in your pinky fuzzy slippers and one of his shirts that's much, much too big on you. He remembers your surprise when you found his clothing was actually too big on you and how happy you were.

⠀⠀"Maybell?" He hums, adjusting his stance and crossing his arms on the counter. He listened for you to him back in response, a smile on his lips. "You look so cute in my clothes.

⠀⠀You giggled, shaking your head and continued putting the dishes away until Eijirou appeared behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and his forehead coming down on your shoulder. "Need somethin' baby?" You turned your head just slightly, a brow cocked inquisitively. He squeezed you in response, swiftly lifting you and making you squeal. Thankfully you didn't have anything in your hands at the moment. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face, setting you down only to lift you again bridal style.

⠀⠀"I've got all I need right here in my arms." He chuckled and you playfully smacked his chest, letting him carry you to your shared bedroom.

Extra.

TICKLE FIGHTS.

He thinks your sneezes are the cutest thing in the world.

He loves your god awful puns, they crack him up every time.

Adores the fact you're a nurturer, especially with your friends. He thinks you'd make a great mother but if that's something you don't want he respects that.

You take care of everyone, but who takes care of you? Eijirou is always there to be your shoulder to lean and cry on, he's your sound board and is always happy to let you talk about your feelings with him. You're allowed to not be happy and bubbly all the time, he realizes how staying positive all the time can actually do more damage than goof, especially if you bottle everything up.

If on a particular day you're struggling with your speech he's happy to be your voice as well. He understands you better than anyone, even your own father.

Speaking of your father, he can't wait to make Eijirou his son-in-law! He's a good man with a good heart and treats you right, what's not to like?

He has trouble saying no to you and spoils you quite a bit.

The Fights:

...

Extra.

There's nothing, what you say goes and all he can say is "yes dear". He knows better than to argue with you, however when he's right and he knows he is, he finds a way to prove it without making you mad.

The Sex:

⠀⠀"Fuck baby—" he hissed, hands finding your hips and guiding you as you rub yourself on his cock. Your hands are on his thighs and your head is tossed back, giving him the perfect view of your tits. God he loves them, he loves the plush skin of your stomach and your thighs, your ass too, he loved seeing all of you. He was so happy that you allow him this privilege of seeing you, granted you've been dating a while now but still. Your sounds are music to his ears and all he wants is to make more, make you feel so good you're calling his name and making a mess.

He wanted— no, needed, to feel you, to feel inside your warm and wet cunt, to feel it squeeze him and milk him dry. He was quick to flip the two of you over, careful to not hurt you as he did. You gasped and giggled, reaching up to hold his face as he smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He loved your taste, he could go on and on about all the things he loved about you all day if he could. "You want it baby?" You nodded excitedly, lip caught between your teeth. He smirked and reached between the two of you, thick fingers tracing a line between your lips and slipping inside your soaked pussy.

"D-Daddy—" you whine, a slight pout on your lips as your face morphs into one of pleasure. He chuckled, pumping his fingers in and out a few times before removing them and grabbing his cock. He coated it more in your slick, guiding it between tge lips of your cunt before slowly pushing inside, groaning at how tight you are. You squeal of course, gasping for breath because Kirishima is an impressive size, you still struggled to take him sometimes but like a good girl you always managed.

"That's my good girl." He cooed, moving so his forearms were on either side of your head. He gave a couple test thrusts, waiting for you to adjust u til you nodded for him to continue.

Extra.

Terrified of activating his quirk while he's fucking you, but he keeps himself under control.

He loves his hair pulled and he loves to be bitten, he especially likes it when you scratch his back when he hits that good spot.

Eats you out for his pleasure mostly, but for yours as well. He loves when you grind on his face and moan his name when you do it. Speaking of, please sit on his face, he loves that shit. He knows how to be careful of his teeth!

If you have pets they CANNOT be in the same roon when you're doing the do, it's just weird.

He'd happily bend you over in the kitchen and do you right there. Hell, he'll fuck you anywhere you deem suitable.

He likes to do a mixture if praise and degradation with you, and edging and overstimulation is a big go-to. He just loves seeing you squirm under him, hr loves hearing you beg and say you need him.

#dreamer's 800 follower event

[fanfictionaries]

I know you have a lot to write, but I do have one request. I dont normally do that, so if it's not good or something just let me know. But I had this idea. A Bucky and Reader, where they are together for a while and she wants to ask Bucky to move in with her. But Bucky has uncertainties about their relationship and is thinking to actually break up with the reader. I want there to be angst but I don't know how it would end... Whether a fluff ending or an angst one I don't mind :)

This is a wonderful request and I loved doing it! Not gonna lie - it took me  a little out of my element. I had to sit and have a long, hard think about how to approach it and do it justice, but I think I may have cracked it. Hopefully you enjoy it! 

From Now On - Communication 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Words: 5k

Warnings: Swearing, ANGST!, Mentions of death/murder, Little Fluff, Sam being a really great friend. 

Author’s Note: I loved this request so much! Nothing I love more than an angsty Bucky and some miscommunication! 

I loved doing this, so please people. Send me more requests! 

***

“I think I’m gonna break up with (Y/N).” There. He’d said it. It had been on his mind all week long. He’d kept it tucked away, tried to hide it, but the further he buried it the worse it clawed and scratched at his brain, trying to worm its way out.

“Really? I was thinking about getting a full back tattoo of you riding the cap shield like a surfboard,” grunted Sam, working his way through the last of his set of bicep curls.

“What?” Bucky asked in confusion, looking to his partner.

Sam shrugged, standing and placing the heavy dumbbell back in its place, “Well, I just figured since we were saying stupid shit today, I’d join in.”

“Sam, I’m being serious here man.”

“Oh, I know you are, Tinman. That’s why I think you’ve lost your god damn mind. Why would you want to break up with (Y/N)? She’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you—” Sam walked across the gym, grabbing his water bottle before making his way to Bucky “—I mean, I still can’t understand how you landed her. She’s way too good for you.”

“I know!” The words came out more raucous and forceful than he intended. Sinking down onto a nearby bench, Bucky braced his elbows on his knees, letting his head hang low, “I know. That’s the problem. She’s too good for me.”

“Don’t tell me this is another one of those ‘Poor me. I’m too broken and damaged for her to love me.’ things. Because if it is, I’m gonna’ have to kick your ass,” said Sam, raising an eyebrow at the sulking man in front of him.

“No, no. It’s not that—”

“You know I’ll do it.”

“I know and it’s not—well it’s a little bit of that but—I just…”

“What? Is she too pretty? Too smart? Too nice? Too eager to put up with your shit?”

“No! It’s none of that!” shouted Bucky, beginning to wonder why he ever thought to confide in the irritating man in front of him. Oh right – because he didn’t have any other friends.

“Then what is it?” Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“She wants to break up with me, but she’s too nice to just pull the trigger. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Bucky stood, grabbing his towel and stalking towards the water fountain—his anger and irritation manifesting in the physical need to move.

Sam, hot on his heel, followed him, leaning against the wall as Bucky bent to get a drink. The cool water sent icy chills though his body as it flowed down his throat. “Did she tell you this? Did you physically hear her say that?”

“No, but I’m not an idiot, Sam. I know when a dame is trying to end things without really ending them. As much as people like to think ghosting is a new concept, it’s really not. In fact, if anything it was easier for gals to just disappear and avoid you in the 40s than it is now. Either way – you eventually get the message.” As much as he hoped the cold water would cool him down, his anger continued to bubble. Anger not for Sam. Not even for you. But for himself. This was his fault after all. He scared you off.

Bucky sighed, continuing to stare down at the waterspout below him, the water flowing crystal clear, swirling around the basin and disappearing down the drain, “She’s been avoiding me. She won’t answer my calls. Barely calls me back. When I do happen to get ahold of her, she’s short. Tries to end the call as quickly as possible. I was supposed to come over last night and she cancelled on me. She never cancels on me.”

“Have you tried being direct with her? Asking her what’s going on?” asked Sam, his tone softer, kinder now that he understood the full extent of the situation.

“Yea. She keeps insisting that nothing’s going on. But I—I know she’s lying. Lying about something! I mean, you don’t do what we do for a living and not know when people are lying straight to your face.”

Running a hand over his cropped hair, he looked to Sam for help. As much as they liked to give each other shit, he had begrudgingly come to rely on his partner for the things he used to rely on Steve for. Friendship. Companionship. Emotional support. All that sappy shit. Much to his annoyance, Sam was really good at it too. All the sappy shit.

“Look, I don’t wanna’ pry man, but did something…happen?”

“Yea. I told her about Riga.”

***

The moment kept playing over and over again in your head. Repeating on a continuous loop for the past week. It had started out like any other night – Bucky was sleeping over. He did that a lot recently. Not that you minded. It just meant you got to spend more time with your wonderful boyfriend. You liked having him there. In your space. His familiar presence was becoming a consistent and habitual aspect of your life. Wake up – Bucky. Go to work – Bucky. Get home – Bucky. Go to sleep – Bucky. Some might consider it excessive, but to you it was wonderful. Never had you felt more at ease with someone else.

“Thanks again for letting me sleep here doll,” said Bucky, pulling back the covers on what you had begun to consider his side of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, pulling your body towards him. You allowed yourself to roll into his side, draping an arm across his bare abdomen.

You hummed in response, burying your face into the crook of his chest. Wrapping his flesh arm around your shoulders, he pulled you in tight. You felt the firm press of his lips to the top of your head as he inhaled your scent. The heat of a contented sigh brushed across your scalp, causing baby hairs to tickle your face.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than my place.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, tracing patterns across the plains of his chest.

“Ehh, upstairs neighbors. I can always hear them walking around,” answered Bucky.

“Too loud?”

Bucky was quiet. His body stiffened under yours and for a moment, you wondered if you had said something wrong. “No. They’re not too loud. I just—”

He stopped, struggling to get the words out.

“Hey—” you laid your palm flat against his chest and rubbed the warm skin firmly “—you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to—”

“But?”

“It’s not like how you’d think. The memories.” Oh. You held your breath, listening patiently as the conversation turned to a subject you didn’t expect. “Most assume that I remember the things I’ve done the way you’d remember any other moment. But, for so many years I was just a prisoner in my own body. Watching as someone else pulled the trigger, over and over again. When I remember things – it’s like I’m someone else. Like I’m watching myself from the outside.”

You continued to stay silent, rubbing your hand back and forth across his chest soothingly as you took in his words. Seventy years. Seventy years a prisoner in his own body. So much so that his subconscious had a hard time connecting the things he did with the person he was. “It was my first missions. A journalist in Riga was getting a little too nosy for Hydra’s liking. I was sent in to take care of him. Then cover it up – make it look like an accident. It was simple. Quick. Something to test if I was ready to be sent into the field. I shot him and his wife in their dining room. I remember watching as I walked around their bodies. Just stepping over them like they were nothing. The house was small and old, and the floorboards creaked. My mission was to burn the house and the bodies. I grabbed a can of gas from the shed in the backyard. A box of matches from the kitchen.”

His voice remained steady, but you could feel the strain and guilt he carried emanate from his body.

“I never noticed the cracks in the floorboards. Turns out they had two children hiding in the crawl space below the floor.”

“Oh Bucky…did they?” You couldn’t say it. Your hand stilled.

“No. They managed to get out, after I left. But Hydra found them a few days later and finished the job,” said Bucky bitterly.

“Bucky – that’s not your fault. You know that, right?” Looking up at him from where you laid, you were met with the turn of his head. Unwilling to look you in the eye.

“No, I didn’t kill them, but only because I didn’t know they were there. If I did…I honestly don’t know. And they—they watched me kill their parents. They sat under those floorboards and listened to me walk over their dead parents with no remorse. No regret. Scared out of their minds that they’d be next. Every time I hear those footsteps above me, I can’t help but think about them. It’s like I’m in that crawlspace with them, waiting for the monster come and get me. But I’m—I’m the monster (Y/N).”

You felt a wetness pool on the top of your head, a small warm trickle you quickly recognized as tears. Bucky’s tears. Sitting up, you pulled his body into your lap. He followed without argument, clinging to you desperately, as the tears continued to flow. Rocking him back and forth you did your best to soothe him. Whispering sweet promises and assurances that you were there. That he wasn’t a monster. That that person wasn’t him then and it wasn’t him now. You knew that self-loathing lived within his soul, but never did you realize the depths to which it burrowed and festered until that moment. So disgusted and ashamed of the things his body had been forced to do, his mind had constructed a world in which he was both the victim and the perpetrator. What it must be like – to be afraid of yourself, to be your own nightmare, to be the thing that kept you up at night – you could never imagine. Never could you truly know the extent to which he suffered, but you did know one thing.

You couldn’t let Bucky continue to stay in a place that caused him so much pain.

After that night, you’d began your preparations. You honestly had no idea why it had taken you this long to consider it. You already enjoyed having Bucky constantly in your space. You loved him. Neither of you had said the words yet, but you know you did. To a certain extent you believed that he loved you back as well. He would have never borne himself to you like that if he didn’t. The two of you had been together for a while now anyways. Your apartment was on the top floor. No upstairs neighbors. Asking him to move in with you was the logical next step. The only issue was that Bucky was a proud man. If you asked him to move in with you the morning after his confession, he would expect that it was done out of pity and most likely refuse. That was far from what you wanted. You wanted him to know that you were serious. That you genuinely wanted him there with you.

So began your purge of all unnecessary items – making room for Bucky and anything he might want to make the space feel more like his own. Steve had left some things behind – relics of their past lives that you knew were important to Bucky. Such as an old record player, a desk and chair, a radio. They were things that made him feel a little less out of his element. Unfortunately, you had accumulated a lot of, well for lack of a better word – crap—over the years and the job had turned out to be a lot tougher than you originally expected. Hauling boxes of dusty knick-knacks, bags of clothes, and even a few items of furniture down from your 4th story walk up was no easy job. Wanting to ask him the big question as soon as possible – you spent what little time you had after work clearing and organizing your apartment to a neurotic level. You were exhausted. Exhausted and honestly a little crazy.

Every day harbored a new anxiety that he would say no. That you had done all this work for him to say that he wasn’t ready for this step. However, the rational part of your brain pushed the nagging thought away. If he didn’t like you or your apartment, he wouldn’t spend so much time there. Plus, the more perfect you made the space for him, the less likely he was to say no.

The worst part of it all though, was the lying to him. You were an awful liar. So bad, in fact, that you were known to ruin presents, surprise parties, and on occasion your friends’ ability to tell you secrets. The bigger a secret was, the harder it was for you to keep it. Therefore, you’d been keeping your interactions with Bucky to a minimum. The whole thing had almost toppled over onto you when you forgot he was supposed to come over for dinner and movies that Wednesday night. When he’d left a message telling you he was leaving work in five, you panic called him and told him you had to cancel, leaving him with a vague and certainly awful excuse. Seeing your apartment in shambles would certainly give away your surprise.

But it was only a week, you told yourself. You only needed to hold out for a week. You were meeting him for dinner that night and then you’d ask him. If he said no, you’d take him over to your apartment and prove to him you were serious. If he said yes, then you’d still take him over to your apartment and surprise him with all the hard work you’d done.

Preparing to meet Bucky for dinner, you checked your makeup one last time in the mirror before turning back to your apartment. Taking a second to look around the space, you were pleased with your work. The place looked fantastic. It was clean top to bottom. Empty spaces sat throughout for Bucky to move his things into. A blank spot on the far wall of the apartment was left for his record player. The spare bedroom had a wall free for his desk next to yours. The bookshelf had two whole rows for him to fill with books of his own. You’d cleared out half of your closet and dresser for him to put his clothes. The top of the fridge sat empty for him to place his radio. You could almost image him sitting at the little kitchen table, listening to it on Saturday mornings.

Checking your purse, you smiled at the small box where a spare key sat, a single piece of ribbon tied around it in a bow. Maybe it was a bit much, but Bucky meant enough to you, for you to make the effort. You were meeting Bucky at his favorite pizza place in Brooklyn. You had it all planned out. You’d order his favorite pizza, a few beers, and then you’d take out the box once you finished your food. Wiping your hands on the skirt of your dress, you took a deep breath. You could do this. Nervous energy coursed through your body as you walked down the flights of stairs and onto the city streets. You were only a block away from your apartment when your phone buzzed. Pulling it out, the sight of Sam’s name took you by surprise.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” you asked, answering on the second ring.

“Hey! (Y/N)! Not much, just checking in on you. Haven’t heard from you in a while. Just wanted to see how you were doing,” said Sam casually.

“Oh, that’s so sweet Sam. Sorry I’ve been so radio silent lately, but I’m doing good! I’m actually on my way to meet Bucky for pizza,” you told him as you briefly looked both ways before crossing the street.

“Yea, about that. You know, if you ever wanted to talk about anything, I’m here. You can talk to me. I’m not just Bucky’s friend. I’m yours too.”

“Wow, well that’s really sweet Sam.” The sentiment was really sweet, albeit a tad weird and out of place, but sweet, nonetheless. Maybe he was feeling sentimental? Perhaps he was a bit hurt that you’d been MIA for the last week not just from Bucky, but from him as well. Should you tell him what you had planned? It might make him happy to know the secret before you told Bucky. Plus, there was no way he could spoil the surprise. You were telling Bucky in the next hour or so anyways.

“Actually – Sam. There is something I wanted to tell you.”

“Really?” he asked in surprise.  

“Yea, I’ve been trying to keep a low profile this past week because it’s a surprise and I’m such a bad liar, but I trust you not to spill the beans,” you joked as you neared the pizza place.

“Okay…” Sam said slowly.

“I’m asking Bucky to move in with me tonight!” you practically yelled it, the excitement bubbling over.

“What?!”

“Yea! I know, it’s exciting! I’m just worried about whether he’ll say yes or not, ya know? It’s a big step, but I just feel so secure in this relationship and I care for him so much.”

“(Y/N)—”

Spotting Bucky standing outside of the restaurant, you spoke quickly into the phone, “Oh! I see Bucky now. I have to go! I’ll text you later.”

You could hear Sam’s voice from the other end but didn’t quite catch what he said as you hung up and skipped over to Bucky. Flinging yourself into his arms, you hugged him tightly, leaning back to place a quick peck to his lips, “Hey babe!”

He seemed confused when he looked at you, carefully placing his hands on your waist, “Hey.”

“Let’s go inside, I’m starving!”

The dinner was more tense than the meals you usually shared. You found yourself at a loss for words continuously throughout the night. Everything he said, everything you said, heck everything you thought led your brain to the subject of him moving in. Five times, you’d almost slipped up and called it ‘our’ apartment. You were pathetic! Bucky also seemed to be battling something, but you assumed it was mostly likely a response to the weird vibes you were giving off. When the waitress had cleared the tables, you were struck by a wave of nerves. This was it. This was the moment. Reaching into your purse beside you, your fingers closed around the small box and pulled it out, keeping it hidden beneath the table.

Opening your mouth to begin the small speech you had practiced in the mirror that morning, you were stopped by Bucky.  

“Listen, (Y/N). There’s something I wanted to talk to you about actually.”

Looking up at him, you found him staring intently down at his hands. You pivoted your body back towards him, “What’s up?”

Bucky sighed, heavily, “I…this isn’t working anymore, (Y/N).”

“What’s not working?” you asked dumbly, unable to comprehend the words he was saying.

“This—” he motioned between the two of you “You and me.”

“I don’t—I don’t understand. Why—”

“Let’s not pretend, (Y/N). I think it’s pretty clear that we’re not happy here.” You weren’t? Searching through your memories, you tried to understand how you had missed when he became unhappy. Was it when you bored him with your lame reality TV? Was it when you fell asleep too early on Friday nights? Or was it when he noticed your propensity to talk too loudly at parties? Or the way you left coffee stains on his copy of the Sunday Times every week? Perhaps it was simply in the moments when you weren’t looking – too engrossed in your own happiness to notice when his own had faded.

Swallowing thickly, you chose your words carefully, trying to keep your composure in the highly public place, “Well, if that’s how you feel, then maybe we should end this.”

You wouldn’t beg him. You wouldn’t beg and plead with him the way you truly wanted to. The last thing you wanted was to guilt him into staying in a relationship where he wasn’t happy. A short and bitter laugh escaped Bucky, the sound like sharp and jagged glass digging into every inch of your body.

“Yea, I think that’s for the best,” said Bucky coldly.

***

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. It was almost comical how quickly you had agreed with him. It only proved his theory. Things were over between the two of you and you didn’t have the guts to end it. Probably due to pity. Nobody wanted to dump the sad, damaged guy. He watched as you stood suddenly, the movement catching him off guard. At the very least, he expected some kind of pity goodbye – an empty promise to remain friends, a stiff hug with a pat on the back. But the desperate confusion on your face as your eyes darted around the restaurant were not what he expected.

“I um, I have to—I’m just gonna—I’m just gonna go, I guess,” you rambled, voice thick and wavering at the end.

“(Y/N)?” he asked in confusion, standing himself.

“I’m sorry, I just have to—” you ended your sentence, turning from him and darting through the restaurant and out the doors. Bucky stood there, staring at where your figure had disappeared around the corner. He had thought for sure that this was what you wanted. But if that was true, then why did you seem so upset? Why had he seen tears in your eyes as you ran from him? Did you not want to break up? You must have – you agreed to it so easily. So quickly. Throwing cash down on the table, he was halfway to the door when a server stopped him.

“Excuse me, sir – I think your friend dropped this.”

A small red box was placed in his hand, no bigger than a coin envelope and feather light. Thin white ribbon wrapped around the center tightly, forming a lopsided bow. He stared at the strange object in his hand. What could this possibly be? And why did (Y/N) have it? Exiting the restaurant, he leaned against the side of the building and pulled on the ribbon.

At the sight of the contents of the box, his stomach dropped. A small white card sat at the top:

No more nightmares. Live with me instead?

Picking up the card, adorned with your messy, looping script he spotted the silver key that sat below.

Fuck.

Racing down the streets, he’d never been more grateful for his super-soldier stamina and speed. He reached you just as you were getting out of a cab outside your building. Tears streaked down your face, makeup running and eyes red.

“(Y/N)!”

You turned, nearly tripping over your own feet as you did, “Bucky, what are you doing here?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“What?” you asked, bringing a hand up to hurriedly wipe at your face.

“I’m an idiot,” he said again, pulling the box from his pocket and holding it out to you.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, opening your purse frantically to see that the box was in fact not there but in his hand. “This is so embarrassing. You can—I can take that, and we can just forget—”

“Why did you agree?”

“Why did I agree to what?” you asked in confusion.

“Why did you agree to break up when you were going to ask me to move in?” he asked, stepping towards you.

“You said you weren’t happy. I’m not going to beg you to stay with me if you’re unhappy. I love you way too much to do that.”

You continued to talk, but the words drowned out as his brain processed what you’d just said. You loved him. You loved him and you wanted him to move in with you, and he had just broken up with him. He was a fucking idiot.

Your voice came back into the foreground of his mind, swelling to full volume, “And I really don’t understand why you raced all the way here to—”

He cut you off, leaning down and capturing your lips with his. You were soft, sweet, and completely all-encompassing–just like always. His heart convulsed in his chest when you leaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you harder, putting everything he had into that one kiss. The one kiss he could give to say ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. Please forgive me’. Pulling away, he rested his forehead to yours, breathing raggedly as he held you tight. Arms wrapped impossibly tight around your middle, fingers digging into your clothes, not an inch of space between the two of you. Hell would freeze over before he let you go.

“I’m not unhappy (Y/N). The only time I am happy is when I’m with you. I love you so much. I don’t wanna’ lose you,” he confessed, feeling the back of his throat constrict and the tears in his eyes begin to form.

“Then why?”

“I thought you wanted to break up with me. I was trying to make things easier for you.”

Pulling away from him, you thwacked him across the chest, “Why in the world would you think I wanted to break up with you James Buchanan Barnes?”

He felt dumb, but he also felt slightly justified when he answered, “I told you about Riga, and then you pretty much disappeared on me for a week (Y/N). What was I supposed to think?”

“You were supposed to believe what I told you, you big dummy! That I didn’t think it was your fault. That you’re not a monster. That I’m here for you!” you said, pacing in front of him. You looked at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world, and he felt like it too. But he couldn’t help but smile. You loved him. You didn’t think he was a monster. Hell, you still cared enough about him to yell at him and tell him when he was being an idiot.

“Can I still move in?” he asked lamely, unsure of what else to say. He waited on edge as you sighed and tilted your head back. Sniffing away the tears and emotions, you shook your head in exasperation.

“I mean, if I say no, then the sheer amount of work I put in this week to get this apartment ready for you, would be for nothing,” you sighed, smiling at him wryly.

“You’ve been getting it ready?”

“Of course!” you exclaimed. “What do you think I’ve been doing this whole week I’ve been MIA? I had to practically force myself to avoid you so I wouldn’t accidentally tell you what I’ve been up to.”

You began to walk towards the front entrance of your building, leaving him to stare at your retreating figure in a dumbfounded stupor. Man, he really felt like an idiot.

“Well?” you asked, turning back to him, “Are you coming or what?”

The whirling sound of wind halted his answer. A roar swept through the air as a gust picked up around them. Looking up in confusion, Bucky was greeted by the sight of Sam in full falcon gear flying towards them before landing on the sidewalk in front of him.

“Wait! Stop! I need—I have to tell—don’t—” he panted “Hold on. I need a minute.” Bracing his hands on his knees, he breathed heavily, catching his breath.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” Bucky asked Sam, “And why are you out of breath? You were using the suit. That takes absolutely no cardio.”

“I couldn’t use the suit to fly to every pizza joint in Brooklyn. It only has so much juice Terminator. I had to run a couple hundred blocks with the suit on.”

You had made your way to his side again by now, intertwining your fingers with his as you both looked at Sam.

“Why were you running between every pizza joint in Brooklyn?” Bucky asked, still unsure why his partner and friend was standing before them in a manic state.

“Because! You’re about to make a stupid mistake, you asshat and I’m trying to stop you before—” he stopped. Looking between the two of you and then at your intertwined fingers. “Wait. You didn’t?” he asked Bucky, trying to communicate with his eyes without alerting you.

“I did,” Bucky sighed, looking down at you apologetically.

“But you’re?” Sam motioned between the two of you with a finger, trying to piece it all together.

“I may have told him over the phone that I was asking you to move in, right before I met you for dinner,” you told him, a guilty expression on your face. Ahhh, that made sense.

“Unfortunately, you’re a bit late to the big, unfortunate scene. We hashed it out. I’m moving in,” Bucky laughed.

“But it was very sweet of you to come all the way out here to try and stop it from happening Sam!” you called to him, giving him an apologetic smile.

“Are you kidding me?! I came all the way out—I tried—You know what—” Sam held up his hands in good-natured defeat “—I’m happy for the two of you. But from now on COMMUNICATION. Falcon out.”

With that, he extended his wings, taking off and disappearing beyond the city scape within a matter of moments.

“I thought he was Captain America now?” you asked, light heartedly.

“Only when he has the shield. When he wears the wings, he insists on calling himself Falcon still,” he informed you, turning with you as you both began to walk back towards the front entrance of your building.

“Interesting…well, ready to go home?” The words from your lips, made him lift – lighter than air as he pulled the key from the box in his pocket and placed it into the lock.

“Yea, let’s go home.”

Marvel Taglist: 

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#request #request fill #fan fic #fan fiction #bucky #angst #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #fluff #sam being a really good friend

[sweetsandsin]

What happens when the cards see a Joker in your future?

After losing the only man that made sense in a world of confusion, Forensic Psychologist, Ember's cards align to tell her one thing and one thing only.

Joker is coming and he'll make sure she is too.

"It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone"

- John Steinback.

♤♡The Oxymoron Of Gotham◇♧

In the crippled city of Gotham lay an oxymoron at every corner; Batman, the Dark Knight who lived in the shadows but brought criminals to light, Riddler, the man who claimed to be an enigma but who had already been worked out and last, but never least, was Penguin, the man who provided twentysomething Ember with perhaps the biggest paradox of her life- loss, the word that had stolen the one and only person she had left only to present her with a soul shattering emptiness to fill the holes her Uncle and his brass cane had left behind.

Found amongst the trash in a dirtied t-shirt for warmth, he'd lifted her from the seedy underbelly of her unwanted origins and given her a home. His shaky hand would brush through the tangles in her honey tresses to wipe away the remnants of grime that even years after her escape never seemed to fully leave, each morning would begin with a story of his adventures and the wars he'd always win, the night ended with a brush of his lips on the tip of her nose and the lullaby he'd sing out of tune to will her into sleep:

"Burning Ember,

Named after the flame,

Burning Ember,

That's my pretty girl's name".

It had already been a few months, yet still, she spent every night sat on baby pink bedding with his top hat to her chest and his rhyme in her head. Tears would fall and her heart would break a little more.

It took her a while, but in the end, it was all okay, because she welcomed the pain, he deserved someone to mourn for him, he deserved the ache she felt, afterall how lucky was she to have something that made saying goodbye so hard?

Well, she was very lucky indeed.

A blaring car horn pulled her away from her thoughts, stopping in a hurry to follow the sound, her right ankle rolled to the side causing a jolt of pain to spiral its way up to her knee in a gentle throb. Keeling forward, Ember squeezed her slim fingers around her foot, bent it inwards and pushed it back into her knee-length boot.

Turning her head, her nails traced the brown bags so prudent beneath her lashes in the reflection of the smashed glass window, inhaling sharply at the sight, her soft pink lips released a breath of fog that quickly succumbed to the sombre tone that had long ago wrapped itself around her hometown, she only wished she too could evaporate into the air like the carbon dioxide that filled her lungs. Continuing her walk, a breathy laugh warmed her chest when she limped in a manner that could only be called ironical- Uncle Penguin was still with her even if only in hobble rather than spirit.

Tapping the butt of her cigarette, white-haired Aurora looked over her green-tinted glasses at the bell on the door "That you, Flamey?"

"It's me" she shouted back. Sliding past the many googly-eyed ornaments and baby doll figurines, she waved a hand around the curve of the wall.

"Did you get me what I asked for?" Her fingers clenched and unclenched in impatience till the square box touched her palm.

"I really wish you'd buy condoms yourself" she whisper hissed, mahogany brown eyes lightening as she looked around uncomfortably and rocked on the balls of her feet. It was one thing to know that someone old enough to be her gran had frequent sex, it was another thing to be the person indirectly supporting her aim to bed each and every male in Gotham that took her fancy.

"And I really wish those punks in the pharmacy wouldn't call me a hot mama and spank my ass" taking a puff, she blew out loudly, "I hate having to break their wrists, makes my arthritis play up, but what ya gonna do?" Shuffling the card deck in her other hand, she intricately flicked them so they twirled between her disjointed fingers.

"Aw, no" her shoulders slumped, "Not again, I told you I don't believe in any of this" everytime was the same, she'd drop something off only to get pulled into unproven spirituality that was far off reality even for a place like Gotham.

"And I told you, I don't give a shit" standing, she pushed the opposing woman down by her shoulder."Now shut up and pay attention, you never know when it could come in handy".

Rolling her eyes, her bottom lip jutted out "Yeah" she scoffed, "When pigs fly".

"What was that?" Aurora tugged her glasses off, an icy glare yanking the usual temperature down a few notches.

"Uh" she blushed, pulling a face. It seemed feigning innocence was her only real option here, "I said, I can't wait" biting her tongue to hide her laugh, she looked to the side.

"Better have been what you said" she warned under her breath, finger waggling at her. "You ain't too old for me to put you over my knee, yanno?" Not that she ever would, of course, the girl was the apple of her eye, but she didn't half wind her up some days.

Drumming her hands on the table, Ember looked on in awe at the speed the cards moved from one hand to another, the flick of the shuffle ending pierced her ears in warning that Aurora's favourite three-card set up would soon be upon them.

"King'a diamonds, ya know what that means?"

"No" she smiled kindly, "But I know you're going to tell me".

Ignoring her jibe, she rolled her sleeves up so the tattooed snake on her right arm led beside it. "Means you're going to meet a man who does a dangerous job, maybe a nice officer?" She hoped. "But uh" she scratched behind her ear, "Could also mean you meet a man who'll run circles round ya, someone worth being scared of". Swiping her hand as if wiping away her words, she chuckled a hoarse laugh "But isn't that just about every man here?"

She wasn't wrong there. Humming quietly, she gazed over at the cards, only then noticing the pale hue to her powdered skin. Frowning, she placed a hand over hers "Is, is everything alright?"

"It's the nine'a spades" downing her tumbler of whiskey, she shook her head, "But that can't be correct, can it?" She looked up sorrowfully.

Even though Ember wasn't exactly one to indulge in the fantasy, she'd never seen Aurora look so shaken and that particular in a blue moon occurrence made her tremble too. "What does it mean?" Her eyes widened in curiosity.

"It means death, next to this card it could be taken to just mean really bad news, but it's the worst card you can get" her fingers itched for a smoke, her throat was dry and she knew if nicotine didn't reach her lips in the next few seconds she'd get all shaky again. Lighting one up, she leant back and sighed, "That's the stuff".

"Well, what is the next card?"

"Ace'a clubs, uh means you shall have protection from a powerful man?" Her words were spoken slow, confused, almost careful. "That's uh great, I suppose, also means that the death card is the death of an enemy, so all is tickety boo". Poor girl had already been through so much, she didn't want to see her go through more.

"So what you're saying is" she paused, hands spread on the table, "That you're not going to spend the next few weeks losing sleep worrying about me?" It happened before, a bad card spread and all she ever got was a million and one phone calls and a grouchy woman to deal with every Saturday, she didn't think she'd survive going through it again.

"That's what I'm saying, sweet cheeks" kicking her legs up, she pulled a hand over her facial features. "Now, did I ever tell you about floppy Jim?"

"Do I want to know?"

"Course ya do, but I'm feeling nice soo I'll spare you the details, just remember, always have a cucumber spare in the fridge, when the age goes up, the dick don't" she cackled loudly, hand smacking her thigh.

Wretching, Ember hit her forehead "I think I'm going to vomit".

♤♡◇♧

Snow White was the fairest of them all and what a prize it was to have skin the colour of snow and lips as red as a rose. White was purity and anything darker was nothing but corrupted skin.

In laymen terms, Ember being brown had always been a sin when she didn't look it and it would forever be a crime if she did.

Work was hard to come by for a Forensic Psychologist who fit into the crowd until she opened her mouth and out came a hint of back home. With each tell-tale sign of her culture came the stereotypes ground from the ashes of her ancestors; awful looks of sympathy for being a South Asian woman who must've been oppressed by masculinity simply because she was born in a place where the sun spent the majority of its time. Afterall, everyone loved a good tan unless it was permanent. Her personal favourite had to be that there was just something 'exotic' about her begging to be released, the typical 'polite in the streets, freak in the sheets' assumption that glued to her form holding her up to socially-expected standards depicting quiet women as individuals with a crazy side that had yet to be seen.

Race wasn't an issue if you were running in it, race was an issue when you got lost in the crowd of the media's definition of majority.

For years she'd calmed herself with lies that placed her in a position of blame; she hadn't worked hard enough, she wasn't ready, she was too young, but what it all really came down to was that she wasn't white enough to be noticed, couldn't pass for ebony, couldn't pass for ivory either and that meant she would forever remain where she was, an immovable object with no chance of ever moving forward.

But then like young Charlie and his golden ticket, she got her chance, a way forward if she picked the dark path, a way out if she went within the depths of no return.

Into cell 666.

Would really appreciate your thoughts!

#heath ledger #joker x oc #the dark knight #joker fanfiction #joker fandom