#Why would I as a female character hide my hair in a cap.

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part seven | r.c

summary:

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

OR; You deal with an intruder, lose your temper and Rafe and you take a shower.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+ only! (oral male/female receiving)

word count: 2,6k

author's note: long awaited im guessing HAHAHAH i hope you have survived so far. finally introducing the third character of this series.... you all know him. as usual, happy reading and i look forward to hearing about your thoughts <3

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pt. seven: "tell yourself you can always stop"

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The “intruder” was standing shock still, the two of you staring at each other. You didn’t think that was going to hurt you or anything, but the rollling pin was still raised in the air, ready to strike any second. While you didn’t necessarily share the disdain for pogues as your friends did, it didn’t mean that you trusted him. He broke into your house after all.

JJ Maybank, possibly the definition of a pogue, was standing in your hallway, hands raised in defense as he eyed the rolling pin in your hand. He looked almost bored.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing?” you repeated, your voice strained.

“Uh, standing. What are you doing, princess?”

You let the nickname slide, glaring at him.

“Defending myself against an intruder.”

“Intruder?

JJ barked out a laugh, his hands clutching his stomach like he just heard the funniest joke in his life, though he quickly raised his hands again when you pointed the rolling pin closer at his face.

“You just broke into to my house, what are you if not an intruder?” you asked, affronted.

“I didn’t break in on purpose!”

“Oh, so you just accidentally broke into my house??”

“Hey, to be fair, you left the door unlocked.”

“Are you blaming the victim right now?”

JJ bit back a grin, his hand slowly reaching out to lower the rolling pin. You let him, but remained wary, your arms dropping to your sides.

“What are you doing here JJ?”

JJ took off his cap, running his hand through his messy hair once before putting his cap back on.

You tried to ignore that you thought he was hot.

“I was coming out of Ruby’s and trying not to be seen by anyone, thought I could hide out here for a bit,” he explained and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ruby Evans? She has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah well that would’ve been good to know before I hooked up with her and almost got caught by said boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Figured JJ would be caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Obviously you knew JJ, but only really on the surface. You didn’t exactly run in the same circles. But you knew that Rafe didn’t really like him, neither did Topper, but mostly because JJ was John B’s best friend. Kelce didn’t really have much of an opinion except for the fact that he thought JJ was hot, so that was that. What you did know, however, was that JJ shared the same disdain for kooks that Rafe did for pogues, so to catch JJ on the other side of the island was newsworthy.

“I’m surprised you’d get caught up with Ruby,” you said. “I thought you hated kooks.”

JJ merely shrugged, grinning at you.

“Why deprave the female population of the other side of the island of an experience with me only because of something they can’t change?”

You snorted, biting back a laugh because you knew that if he thought you thought he was funny, it was over for you. JJ took the moment to let his eyes wander over you, and you stopped yourself from wrapping the linen shirt around your exposed body. This was your house and you weren’t gonna let someone else make you feel uncomfortable. Much less a guy.

“Had a pool party?”

“Something like that,” you replied, meeting JJ’s gaze straight on. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his boyish grin growing.

“Should I take it personally that I wasn’t invited?”

You gave him a look and JJ winked at you, before his face lit up, like he remembered something.

“Hey, your parents are organizing the spring fling, right?”

“Yes, why?” You asked back, suspicious.

“Well, I was wondering if you could do me a favor…” He started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need some money to fix up my bike, and the country club always pays well. But the hostess kind of hates my guts, so she’d never hire me if I applied for the job. You think you could put in a good word for me?”

It was odd how JJ was able to switch from sarcastic to bashful the minute he needed something from you. You had heard from other girls that he was something of a womanizer, and the fact that he just came out of Ruby’s house just proved the point. So you tried not to put much worth on the grin he was giving you.

Most people would probably call it charming. You weren’t most people.

“… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cool,” JJ said, honest to god pointing finger guns at you. This guy was unreal. He turned to leave the way he entered - through the patio door - but before he shut the door, he looked back to you, one foot already out of the house. “You’re not so bad for a kook, princess.”

JJ slipped through the small gap, closing the sliding door behind him. With a deep sigh, you locked the door, pulling down the blinds for good measure before you headed back to the kitchen. You put the rolling pin back in its place, shutting the dishwasher before switching it on, trying to act like that just didn’t happen.

Turning off all the lights downstairs, you headed towards the hallway, preparing to go to bed when two short raps came on the front door before it opened, as Rafe let himself in like he had been invited over. For some reason, it made you mad. You let out a sigh as you took him in and he raised a brow at you.

“You really need to lock the doors when you’re home alone precious,” Rafe commented and you snorted under your breath.

“Tell me about it.”

He shut the door behind him, locking it and you freed your hair from the claw clip, shaking your head out, feeling a migraine coming on.

“Did you really clean up the mess in the kitchen by yourself?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I would’ve helped you,” Rafe pointed out, annoyed.

“Well, you didn’t exactly tell me that you were staying over,” you retorted, just as annoyed. “Or that you were coming back.”

“Why are you being an asshole?”

Rafe’s irritation was evident in his voice and you let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Rafe. I’m just tired, okay?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling your shoulders slump a little. “If you came to fuck I don’t think I’m really in the mood today, so you can just leave. I’ll just take a shower and go to bed.”

You didn’t wait for an answer and turned to walk into your bedroom upstairs, heading straight to the bathroom. As you stripped down, throwing you bikini and the overshirt in the hamper, you thought you heard the front door shut. You tried not to let the angry tears in your eyes fall as you stepped into the shower, instead, you turned the water on, letting it drench your whole head. Fucker, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe that he’d just leave like that. Before all of this, he never would’ve just left.

Then again, you wouldn’t be in this situation either. Was this how it was going to be from now on?

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t even heat the door to the bathroom clink open. Only when the glass door of your shower squeaked, you were made aware of Rafe’s presence as he stepped inside. You really had to work on your spatial awareness. He stepped under the shower stream, the water immediately soaking him up, your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Rafe gave you a displeased look, pressing himself against your backside.

You kept quiet for a few seconds, the knot in your chest unfurling slightly, and you found yourself leaning against him.

“I thought you left.”

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

Rafe’s voice was quiet as he murmured into your ear, his hand coming up behind you to cup around your breast. You bit back a sarcastic reply, because surely this wasn’t something a best friend would do.

“I wouldn’t just leave when I know you’re upset about something, you think you’re just a piece of ass to me?”

“I don’t know what we are these days,” you muttered, half hoping that Rafe didn’t hear you, but based on the way his hand clenched around your waist, he did hear. He turned you around in his arms, frowning down at you.

“Precious,” Rafe said, his voice tight. “You’re my best friend. Yes, the sex is fucking great, but it’s not worth losing you over. If you’re starting to question our friendship, we shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”

The shower was still raining down on you, and if the both of you weren’t buck ass naked as the day you were born, this would probably be incredibly romantic and you’d consider just spilling your guts to him. You exhaled deeply, blinking the water drops out of your lashes, trying to clear your head. What Rafe said made sense. But were you ready to give up more of him, just because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check?

“So? Are we putting a stop to this?”

Rafe took a step back. It was small, he barely moved, but to you it felt like a mile. You couldn’t go back to just being only his best friend, so before he could move away even further, you reached out to pull him back in, leaning on your tiptoes to kiss him. Rafe grunted into the kiss, seemingly hesitant for a second before he all but melted into you, his hand wrapping around your hair to tilt your head further up. You lost yourself in the kiss for a second, your hands intertwining on the nape of his neck before you pulled away when it got too heated.

“I’m too tired for sex,” you said, though you couldn’t deny the warmth unfurling between your legs.

Rafe eyed you for a second, before he nodded, turning you in his arms again, his chest against your back.

“Let me take care of you.“

With a flick of his wrist, he turned the water off, before he ran his hand down your waist, fingers slipping between your thighs. Your breath hitched, pressing further into him.

“Rafe.”

“Relax,” he murmured into the skin of your neck, tongue lapping up the water droplets that clung to your shoulder. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

His hand ventured further down, one finger dipping into the warmth of your folds and you let out a soft sigh, the stress leaving your body. You had half a mind to tell him to stop, you you found yourself saying nothing. Your hand wrapped around his bicep, searching for something to hold onto while the pad of his thumb stroked circles over your most sensitive little spot of nerves, having you moan out his name.

“That’s it,” Rafe said, leaning further down so he could slip his finger into your cunt, your gummy walls opening up to his digits, your knees growing weak. Both of you were still wet from the interrupted shower, and you should’ve been long cold by now, but all you felt was Rafe’s warm body pressed up against you and the heat coiling in your lower stomach. Rafe’s movements weren’t fast paced, but he applied pressure in just the right places, you felt your orgasm coming in no time.

“Shit,” you gasped, laying your head against his chest, catching Rafe’s eyes on you, seeing a hunger in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, but before you could question it, he kissed you, stealing your breath away. The kiss was the last thing that threw you over the edge and with a small, breathy moan you came apart on Rafe’s fingers, clinging onto him for dear life. As you caught your breath, Rafe placed his hands on your waist, steadying you.

“You good?”

You let out a grunt, squeezing his wrist. “You know the shower is one of the most dangerous places to have sex in?”

“… That doesn’t sound right.”

“Shut up,” you huffed, taking your hands off of Rafe, testing your footing, before you turned, getting on your knees.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this.”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” you asked back, wrapping your hand around his cock and Rafe let out a moan, carding his fingers through your hair. “Your dick has been pressed into my back for the past 15 minutes, let me suck you off.”

“If you insist.”

Rolling your eyes wordlessly, you pumped his cock for a but, before licking a strip along his shaft, making Rafe curse above you. You only smirked to yourself, before you wrapped your lips around his cock, knowing that was all he wanted right now.

“Fuck,” Rafe hissed, his grip on your hair tightening, thought you didn’t mind, your focus solely on sucking the life out of him. Your tongue was pressing against the small slit on his tip as you moved your mouth along the length of his cock, hand still wrapped around his lower base, where you couldn’t quite reach. You weren’t a beginner when it came to cock sucking, but you weren’t a professional either. It was safe to say that Rafe was pretty content with your skills though.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you took in as much of his cock as possible, continuing to suck on him, a mixture of saliva and Rafe’s precum smearing around the edges of your mouth, making a whole mess in your face, though you continued unperturbed.

“Shit, you really give the best head prec-”

Your nails dug into his thighs, and he cut off, replacing your nickname with your real name, and you eased off his thigh, sighing softly as the head of his cock brushed against the back of your throat, hoping it wouldn’t bruise again. It didn’t take long until Rafe slowly started thrusting into your mouth, his hips stuttering that you knew he was close.

“I’m about to come,” he warned you, his voice hoarse and the grip on your hair less hard. You only let out a hum of acknowledgement, not lessening your movement until Rafe spurted his cum down your throat, groaning out your name. You took your mouth off his cock, having swallowed his bitter cum and wiped your mouth, satiated.

Meanwhile, Rafe was leaning on the shower wall, gently extricating his hand out of your wet hair, heaving breaths.

“You’re a minx,” he told you, pulling you up for a quick kiss. You only grinned against his lips, swatting at his bare chest. Nipping on your lower lip, Rafe reached behind you to turn the shower back on, to finally finish what you had come here for in the first place. Together, you showered quickly and thoroughly and as Rafe washed the soapy suds off of you, hands all over your body, it felt intimate but not in a sexual way. You tried not to think about it too much.

When the both of you were done, hands all prune-y, you exited the shower, wrapping yourself in a robe and handing a towel to Rafe so he could dry off. You did a quick run through of your nighttime routine, while Rafe watched bemusedly as he brushed his teeth, but didn’t comment on it. When you were both done, crawling into bed, your hair still damp, you settled into your side of the bed (which was a wild statement in itself, as Rafe turned off the light in the bedroom, before getting in bed on the other side. You were content to fall asleep, safe and soundly tucked in, when Rafe reached under the blankets to pull you close against his chest, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck.

Your cheeks heated, and you side eyed Rafe as he got comfortable in bed, your shoulders tense.

“I meant what I said,” he then muttered, arms wrapped around your waist. “If you ever feel like our friendship is changing or this makes me feel like you can’t trust me, you gotta tell me precious. I don’t want to lose want to lose my best friend.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you mumbled, laying a hand on his, trying to reassure him, even though your heart was racing a mile a minute. Rafe didn’t reply, and before long, his breath evened out, but you were still wide awake.

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author's note: okay real talk, how many of you guessed who the intruder was???

[ophthalmotropy]

Yesterday we had an improv exercise where my group partner kept consistently misgendering my character so I was just evilly manspreading for all I was worth talking about how we didn’t get women around here ever since “the wife left” and “are you married, officer?” and he still looked me in the eye and said “no, miss”. Previous to getting on the stage I had said aloud that I was wearing a shitty fishing cap so you could tell I was a guy.

[mintmatcha]

soggy - Hanamaki

cw: angst, major character death, mentions of terminal illness, hospital, female reader

He knows before you even say anything.

"Doctor finally told you the bad news, huh?” Makki pushes himself up with his usually toothy smile, lounging back on to one elbow. The hospital bed creaks pathetically as it rises almost comically slowly to meet his posture. It would been funny if he didn't immediately collapse back against it, exhaustion weighing heavy in his bones. He shimmies to the side of his bed, careful to keep his IVs and wires straight,  and pats the empty space, beckoning you to him. 

It’s hard to acknowledge you’ve grown used to seeing him here, like this. The memory of him in his own bed -your bed, the one you bought together, the place where he always begging for fifteen more minutes of sleep- feels so impossibly distant. Less than six months ago you could picture him on your sofa, begging you to join him so you could play with his hair.

Makki tugs his baseball cap down and you look at your shoes. No hair to play with anymore.

Mattsun bought him that stupid hat last year for his bachelor’s party. It's a neon pink monstrosity, the words 'Future DILF' stitched on to the front.

Mattsun hasn't been by in a while. You don't blame him; it's hard seeing someone whither.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.” is all you can think to say.

All of his favorite knickknacks have made their way here; the switch came on the first round of treatment, the blanket from the couch came round three. The slippers are a new addition, their tag still on the bottom on the left shoe.

You've been here through all six.

“Dude, fuck sleeping-” Makki pats the mattress again, more insistent. You join him reluctantly, throwing your legs over his and tucking your head into his shoulder, trying to hide your face. He doesn’t smell like himself anymore; the scent is stale and sour, with the hint of the floral cleaner they use to wipe down the room. “All I fucking do is sleep and throw up- I just wanna hang with my girl.”

You perk up enough to meet his eye for a moment, brow knitted in concern. It's always like that nowadays;. "Were you sick again? I can grab the nurse-”

“Julia knows, that’s why I’m on the fluids again.” he presses a kiss against your forehead when you open your mouth again, “And they gave me another dose of the anti-nausea stuff. Relax; you worry too much.”

You try to take his advice, but the doctor's words still swim in your mind.

No improvement, no improvement, no improvement.

“The doctor finally told you the updates, huh?” he asks again. His voice cracks, so soft it’s barely there. 

It's migrated to his lungs.

“It’s okay!” you pull yourself together,  “Fuck what the doctors say. We’ll fight this. Another round and we’ll be right back home, in our bed- ”

“Babe,” he holds your hands between his and pulls them to his lips, kissing your knuckles with reverence. He hums at every contact, carrying a tuneless song, refusing to savor you in silence. “I’m done fighting.”

You watch his face, as if his placid smile would answer all of your questions. “I don’t understand.”

You choose not to understand. 

“I’ve already told the doctor that I’m not doing anymore chemotherapy.”

“I don’t understand, Hiro.” you pull your hand away. He tries to hold on, but his grip strength just isn’t enough, so he just watches with that same, stupid smile, “You’re sick, you need more-”

“I’m tired,” he squeezes tighter and the dig on his joints surprises you. He’s always been a thin man, but the sharpness of his bones through skin begs to be noticed. “I’m so tired, baby. I can’t do this anymore.”

The hospital sounds have faded into the background of your life, but right now they seem deafening. The chatter of nurses at their station in the hall, the steady thrum of the overhead lights, the dreadfully stable beep connected to his heart-

You'd listen to this for the rest of your life if you had to.

“You’re not allowed to just- just give up,” your throat is so tight, voice nothing but strange pitches and wavers, “You’re not allowed.”

“It’s okay.” he smiles again, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "MCR was right, chemo makes you feel so soggy-"

“No, fuck off. No fucking jokes right now.” you push him away, palm against his ribs to hold him apart from you. The way he flinches only makes you want to cry more, “We were supposed to grow old together, Takahiro. We- we are going to grow old together.” 

You point to your ring, holding it so close to his face the diamond scuffs his nose. He begged his mom for it, his sister told you once. Literally got down on his knees and begged for his grandmother’s ring.

“It’s ‘til death do we part,’’ you swallow back your cry, but nothing stops the tears, as they start to well, “And I’m not ready to fucking part.”

He tucks his lips under his teeth, holding them in a straight line to try and hide the wobble.

"I lived a really good life. I got to marry an amazing person. Even convinced her to love me enough to stand by my side this whole shitshow." he cocks his head and runs his tongue across the inside of his cheek over and over again, "I'm okay with letting it end here. I really, really am."

Despite all the parts of him that you no longer recognize, he's still your Takahiro. He's the same man who took you to 7-11 on your first date, the same one who bought every flavor of ice cream in the store for your first anniversary.

The same man you decided to spend the rest of your life with.

“But what am I gonna do without you?”

That’s what breaks him. His arms wrap around your shoulder and pull you firmly into his chest, not quite fast enough to hide how his face cracks into utter despair. Like this, you can't see him cry, but you can feel it- every staccato, jagged breath, the tremble in his arms, the wet of tears against your scalp.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he whispers in between kisses, trying to comfort you when he can't even hold himself together. “I just can’t fight anymore.”

part two

[nothinghcppens]

small talk- pietro maximoff

part 2

part 1 here

masterlist

pair: pietro maximoff x female!reader

summary: after being apart of the team of super soldiers that hydra experimented on, y/n was one of the successful experiments and had been released to the world. the winter soldier and the siren had become the most prolific assassin duo in the world. but what happens when they get taken in by the avengers? what happens when she meets a particularly fast superhero with an attitude?

warnings: swearing, mentions of trauma, alcohol, kissing but like only that, minor sexual jokes

a/n: hi !! i just wanted to say thank you so much for all the love and support of part 1 of small talk and bad liar omg <3 i also wanted to add a taglist to future fics so let me know if you want added it! make sure to specify if you want to be added to the marvel or the harry potter one bc i have a harry potter fic in the works rn! also i’m gonna write a part three that’s just cute bc i want to keep writing this character heheh

“wake up!” splash.

the feeling of cold water hitting your face shocked you awake and you sat up with a gasp. trails of blue flashed from beside your bed and out the door, the clang of a bucket hitting the floor. “pietro maximoff. i am going to kill your speedy ass!” you shouted, jumping out of bed. not even caring that you were only in a t-shirt and shorts, you chased after him, following the blue light.

the trails stopped eventually, and so did you. you glanced around, listening for any sign of him. you crept over to one of the couches and grabbed a pillow as a weapon. “where are you?” you called, i’m a sing-song voice.

you walked around the room, “come on, don’t hide from me now.” the faint sound of his breathing was heard along with the dripping water from your hair and t-shirt. you followed the sound of his shallow breaths to the island in the kitchen. you dropped the pillow, climbed up on the island and crawled across it before swung your head over the edge, in front of his. “hey there.

he gasped, “shit.” you flipped your hair back up and sat back on your knees. pietro stood up and turned to face you before bursting into fits of laughter.

“i don’t know what’s funny.” you mumbled, glaring up at him.

“yes you do, you look ridiculous.” he huffed between laughs.

“i won’t look ridiculous when i’m putting a bullet through your head.” you spat.

“calm down, love. it’s only a bit of fun.” he said.

“i was sleeping piet!” you protested. you moved your legs so that they were dangling off the edge.

“okay, i’m sorry. i’m sorry!”

“you better be. i’ll get you back though.”

he stepped forward and leaned his hands on the island, on either side of you. “will you, yeah?”

his head was an inch away from yours, you could feel his breath against your face. you saw his eyes drift from your eyes to your lips and back up again. he leaned in slightly and your breathing quickened. “what’re you doing?” you whispered.

“what do you think i’m doing?” he replied in the same hushed tone.

“something you should’ve done a long time ago.” you leaned in towards him, lips almost touching.

“good morning!” cap announced, walking into the kitchen, looking at his phone. you two broke apart quickly, pietro speeding and grabbing you a glass of orange juice and ten occupying himself by looking at something in the cupboard.

“hey cap.” you croaked, voice uneasy from the nerves coursing through your body. “morning steve.” pietro greeted, closing the cupboard and standing next to you on the counter. steve didn’t look up from his phone and didn’t notice your wet hair and clothes

“how’s our newest recruit?” he asked as he grabbed a mug from one of the shelves.

“steve, i’ve been here for like 6 months!” you complained.

he put the mug in the coffee machine and pressed a few buttons, “and? you’re still the newest.”

“might be the newest but i could still take you down old man.”

“don’t get too cocky kid, i think pietro’s rubbing off on you.”

“ew i’d rather go back to being tortured than be like him.” you joked.

“how dare you! you know you love being around me.”

you made fake gagging noise and steve let out a laugh. he finally turned around and looked at you two for the first time this morning.

“oh- uh y/n? what happened, why are you soaked?” he asked, averting his eyes from you. your eyes widened in realisation that you were wearing little-to-nothing in front of your captain and your t-shirt was clinging to your body.

“pietro is a dick is what happened.” you said, pushing yourself off the table. “if you’ll excuse me, i’ll go make myself decent.”

“you look decent all the time, love!” pietro called after you as you began to leave the kitchen. you swivelled round and flipped him off with both hands before leaving the room.

———

“do you remember when-“ you let out a giggle and pointed at bucky, “when we had to kill those french agents and you-“ another laugh, “you fell over a wall! god i mean because my brain was mush i couldn’t laugh but looking back on it that shit was hilarious!”

you and the team were recalling old missions gone wrong, with the assistance of alcohol obviously, and you were telling a story about you and bucky- much to his dismay.

“i didn’t fall.” he protested, taking a swig from the bottom of beer in his hand.

“so what happened then? did the sidewalk just crumble?” you questioned, laughing loudly. the rest of the team sat observing the interaction, large smiles across all their face. pietro sat to your left with his arm around your shoulder, a drink in his other hand.

“okay. maybe i did fall.” bucky mumbled causing a roar of laughter from everyone. “but, remember how we were running through a forest in, where was it again?-“

“bulgaria.” you said, already knowing where this was going.

“bulgaria! yes. and it was raining so it was super muddy and you got suck in the mud!” he laughed.

“you left me there! i had to drag myself out.” you complained.

“well we had a mission to complete! you would’ve done the same.”

you rolled your eyes, “you’re right. i would have.” you felt pietro laugh from beside you and you smiled at him. “time for a refill.” you announced, pushing yourself up off the sofa. you wandered to the kitchen and took the bottle of wine on the table and poured some into your glass. due to the alcohol already in your system you spilled a little on the counter, “shit.” you muttered.

“need some help there?” pietro asked.

“i can pour wine myself thank you very much.” you retorted.

“i think the table disagrees.” he chuckled.

“shut up.” you groaned. pietro sped from the door to grab a towel and stopped behind you. he reached over your shoulder and wiped the spilled wine up. his breath was hot against your neck. you turned around, wine glass in hand, and looked up into his eyes. his hands remained on either side of you.

“this is the second time we’ve ended up here.” he mumbled.

“good observation, captain obvious.” you teased. pietro rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh.

pietro took his right hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, staring into your eyes. he kept his hand on the side of your head and leant in slightly for the second time in the past week. your breathing deepened and your heart was thumping against your chest. you tilted your head up towards his head and your lips were almost touching, just as they were a few days ago

“y/n! can you get me a whiskey before you come back?!” tony called from the other room.

pietro groaned in frustration and pulled away from you, tilting his head up. “i’m going to kill those avengers.”

“good luck with that speedy.” you said, tapping his chest lightly.

he stepped away from you, letting you leave his embrace to get tony a drink. after pouring him a glass of whiskey and grabbing your glass of wine, you and pietro entered the room filled with your team. his hand was placed in the small of your back, guiding you back to the sofa.

you handed tony his drink and he smiled at you, “thanks kid.”

pietro sat on the couch and you flopped down beside him, his arm resuming its place of around your shoulder. you swung your legs up and across pietro’s legs, earning a few looks from nat and clint. they looked at each other and raised their eyebrows with a smirk.

steve and bucky were telling a story of a party they went to in the 40s and how bucky had to drag him to dance with these girls they met. you took a sip of your drink and noticed pietro’s eyes glancing at your lips, “want a sip?” you asked, smirking because you knew that’s not what he was looking at.

he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek and sighed, “watch it, y/l/n.”

“oooooooh we’re on last name terms now?” you teased, smiling.

“yeah if you keep pissing me off we will be.”

“don’t be so easy to piss off.” you replied.

he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “cant help it. i’m frustrated.”

you pushed out your bottom lip in an overdramatic pout, “boohoo.”

tony then shot forward in his seat and clapped his hands together, “tomorrow you two,” he said, pointing at you and bucky, “are gonna have a little fashion show, i’ve been working on some suits for you guys and i need your input.”

“wait really?” you asked.

“yup. i’m not having you two going on missions in your hydra gear.” he explained.

“shit, thanks tony.” bucky replied.

“where’s my suit?” pietro questioned.

“you’ll get on eventually. your girlfriend is just a little more improtant.”

“i was here first.” he protested.

“girlfriend?” you asked at the same time.

“wait your turn, turbo.” tony said.

pietro scoffed and everyone laughed at the interaction.

nat stretched her arms behind her head and yawned, “alright losers, i’m going to bed.”

“yeah, me too.” clint added.

eventually everyone had made their way upstairs and all that was left was you, tony and pietro.

“okay. what’s going on here?” tony asked, wagging his finger between you guys. pietro’s hand was now resting on your leg which was still across his.

“nothing.” you said.

“uh huh? yeah that bullshit doesn’t work on me kiddo.”

“piet, sure nothing has happened.” you glanced at him and a look of annoyance crossed his face.

“yeah stark. nothings happened.” he replied through gritted teeth.

“well if anything does happen, stay safe.” he winked at you two, “and if you hurt her, speedy, she’ll probably hurt you back worse.”

you laughed, “hell yeah i will.”

“oh i know you will.”

“goodnight .” tony said as he stood up from his chair and left the room.

you swung your legs off pietro and stood up, “well goodnight piet.” a smirk grew across your face as you began to walk away.

“nope.” he stated, grabbing your wrist and turning you back around. he pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him, legs on either side of him. he placed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled your head towards his before crashing your lips onto his.

the kiss was heated, after being denied it twice before. your hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck and his moved to your waist. his fingers dug into your hips causing you to moan slightly, he took this opportunity to intertwine his tongue with yours.

eventually you broke apart, both gasping for air. you placed your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

“you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to do that.” he muttered.

“worth it?” you asked, teasing him.

“nope.” he joked.

you leaned back and glared at him, “you bitch.” you leaned in and kissed him again, running your fingers through his hair and pulling it slightly. he groaned against your lips and you smiled through the kiss, enjoying the effect you had on him.

pulling away for the second time, you both had content smiles on your faces. you leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, “you’re comfortable.”

he let out a hearty laugh, “thank you?”

“it’s a compliment, i could sit here forever.”

suddenly you were no long sitting on top of him, you were being picked up and whisked through the building. your hair blew around until you stopped and were in your room. “what just happened?”

“i’m tired and the couch didn’t seem good to sleep on.” he explained.

“woah, woah, woah. who said you’re sleeping in my room?”

“i did.” he stated. using his powers he stripped himself down to his underwear and jumped on your bed, under the covers.

“i regret kissing you. you’re a pain in the ass.” you complained.

“and you called me a bitch?!” he exclaimed.

you rolled your eyes and grabbed your pyjamas that were at the foot of your bed and walked to your bathroom.

“where are you going?” he asked.

“getting changed, i don’t want you watching.”

you closed the door to block out his protests and quickly got ready for bed.

“hurry up.” pietro called.

“stop complaining or i’m going to sleep on the couch.” you replied, opening the door and leaning against the doorframe. pietro was sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes raked over your body and a small smirk grew on his face. “eyes up here pretty boy.”

he laughed and pulled back the cover before patting the spot next to him, signalling for you to join him. you shuffled over and slid into the bed. pietro wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“so much for the whole tough super soldier act, you’re a softie at heart, aren’t you love?” he muttered in your ear.

“anymore of that and i’ll suffocate you in your sleep with this pillow.” you replied, closing your eyes and relaxed into his embrace.

“no you won’t. you’re too soft.” he teased.

“pietro. i’m warning you.” you yawned, “i don’t care how good looking you are i will kill you.”

“good looking huh?”

“fuck off and go to sleep.” you spat.

“sweet dreams, y/n.” he said with a small laugh.

“yep they won’t be about you.” you murmured, before dozing off to sleep.

———

“i knew it!” nat squealed. you squeezed your eyes close and then opened them, blinking rapidly. pietro lay behind you with his arm draped over your waist. he groaned against your neck and looked over his shoulder at the team standing at the door.

“piet what’s going on?” you grumbled, too tired to sit up and look for yourself.

“so when did this happen?” cap asked.

you finally turned over and sat up, seeing everyone stood in your room. “what the fuck? get out my room you creeps!” you shouted, grabbing the pillow behind your head and throwing it towards them.

“oh come on kid, when did it happen?” he repeated.

“none of your business steve.”

“we’re not leaving until we find out.” clint added.

“you’re awfully quiet little brother, nothing to add?” wanda said.

“i cant believe this.” you muttered, lying back down.

“last night, happy? but all we did was kiss okay, nothing else.” you explained.

“yet.” pietro stated. you elbowed him in the stomach and he winced at the impact.

“so are you two together now?” nat asked.

“well we haven’t had the chance to speak about it because you guys ruined our morning!” you exclaimed.

“what’s going on?” bucky asked, rubbing his eyes. he peered in over everyone and laughed, “nevermind.”

it seemed that pietro had had enough too so he sped out of bed and pushed everyone outside the room, closed the door and locked it. “much better.” he said.

you heard the murmurs of everyone outside, “use a condom!” clint shouted. footsteps retreated from your door as everyone left to go about their day.

“i’m moving out i can’t live here anymore.” you groaned.

“it’s not that bad, you’ve got me.” he said, crawling back onto the bed and lying on top of you. you wrapped your arms around his head and played with his hair.

“so are we like together now?” you asked, mocking natasha’s previously asked question.

“would you like that?” he asked.

“god no.” you joked, “obviously dumbass.”

he lifted his head up and leaned in to kiss you.

“nope. you’ve not brushed your teeth.”

[cannibal-witchh]

Reader(Fem) X Alcina Dimitrescu

(PART 1)

Written by cannibal_witchh

⛓Trigger Warning⛓

Story contains: Gore, sexual elements, vulgar language, violence, elements of sub/dom behavior, and captivity.

Notes:

I am not the most confident writer so bare with me if theres some flaws floating around the story. I also have very minimal general knowledge to Alcina right now due just demos only being out. Please, be considerate that there's only so much information released on her so most of what I'm writing is not canon. Let's keep it positive and real, we all are thirsting after Lady D so here's a a fanfiction. Also couldn't condense it in one story so going to make this adleast a two or three parter.

It can get confusing with a lot of female characters so the reader is of course:

Y/N - your name

Her/she- i wanted to refer to the female reader in italics and bold

Y/L/N- your last name

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Thunder echoed along the well decorated corridor walls . Hints of lightning occasionally flashed between fluttering curtains. Beyond the curtains was an open window, below that was a critical drop into snow and shards of large rocks. That was definitely not worth risking. Y/N had been held in captivity for what felt like a legitimate eternity. Confinded to a small well kempt room, it seemed as though it had once been a guest room according to the furnishing. All the basic necessities of a bedroom were present here. The fabrics that dressed the bed were of a fine quality, and the boards that held all of it up were of incredible carpentry. Gentle embers flickered from the candlewicks that rose tall on the golden girandoles. Despite captivity the room was comfortable, it was illuminated with warm colors, although still dim and feint.

The door swung open, a black swarm of insects swirled infront of the door as it begun to quickly form a figure. It revealed a small vampiric woman, hooded with golden locks peaking from under it. She flashed her teeth with an enthusiastic smile, as she revealed blood stained teeth, lips, as well as her chin. " Oh, goody! You are awake. I always feel bad feeding when someone is asleep.", She shut the door as she advanced closer to Y/N. Adrenaline began to flood through her veins, hair on her body standing up, and her palms perspiring. She was covered in scabbed bite marks, and bruises - it didn't take long for her to recall the abrupt painful puncture of teeth break through her skin. The old bites began to twitch with pain at the idea a new addition would be welcomed. " I just prefer blood thats been in shock, y'know, awake? It gives it a nice acidic flavor, plus,", she towered over Y/N breathing in her aroma. " It smells wonderful.", she giggled in soft whispers. "Enough.", Y/N demanded as she attempted to cease her trembling. Her body was returning to anxiety because it was clear what was about to happen. A feeding. The vampire didn't seem to express offense, strangely her face bore amusement. "Oh ok, how about this!", she excitedly brought out her sickle and swung at her. With one swift swing the sickle hooked right under her knee cap. A shriek was released from Y/N's lips, agonizing pain radiating everywhere, and blood began to river out from the site. The vampire dragged her with the sickle through the corridor as everything seemed like a blurr from the shock. Hallways seemed like a stretched out haze, and noises seemed to be loud echoes one would hear in a juvenile cafeteria. "Whe-where are you taking me...?", she barely mustered as she felt the sickle dig through muscle and actually brush against the back of her knee cap. Fuck. The sickle was released quickly from her skin as she heard the sound of blood fly onto the ground. That abrupt removal felt worse for minutes compared to the weapon actually being present in Y/N's knee. The monstrous woman lifted the sickle to her crimson stained lips, inhaling the aroma deep, and then proceeding to lick the sickle of the blood it had collected. Sounds of ecstasy escaped her satin black lips, her eyes darted over at Y/N as she felt like she was on the verge of fainting from shock. " I love blood that has some acidicity to it. It gives it a nice kick. You know how that works? For example, your blood could still have more of that taste. One who is in a flight or fright scenario, where they are in absolute fear and adrenaline kicks in...thats when the meat and blood have a sour flavor. Mmm, thats why we are going to play a game." , she licked her lips as her eyes flickered with hunger and passion. Y/N groaned in pain as she felt her body gasp from the fevered pain beating in her knee. " I propose we play hide and go seek! You already know who's hiding. I will give you to the count of 100." , her eyes shimmered from this fucked up idea, she quickly turned her back and covered her eyes. Slowly the sickle in her hand vanished within dark smoke, damn it, Y/N within fading in and out had thought perhaps of stealing that and killing her there. Not anymore. She rose up with wobbling knees, just like a new born dear barely capable of using its legs, she began to hobble as fast as she could away.

"Oh, and I can smell your blood. So hide well, Y/L/N."

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Y/N consistently looked back, watching if the vampire had cheated the game. She was indeed honoring the game, that was adleast something about this blonde one she liked. She seemed to honor things she said, " 89...70...", her voice echoed loudly through the halls. The numbers lowering as Y/N felt her adrenaline spike even higher.

Y/N managed to find a door unlocked in a different wing of the manor. She adleast went through 10 locked doors before fleeing to another location of the manor. With pure luck, she discovered this door, it was unlocked and she took her gamble and entered quietly. With trembling gore soiled hands, she locked the door, and sunk to the ground. Very little energy existed in her, she anticipated for dear life the blonde vampire wouldn't smell her here.

The sound of gentle humming danced along the walls of this room, very melodic, sad, and eerie. Lonely, perhaps. With Y/N's quick realization, this resembled a garden bath house. The windows stretched tall in this room, revealing bleeding light from the full moon, there were plants of vibrant emeralds surrounding the large mass of water that centered the room. The water was decorated with rose petals and red spider lilies. The room was architecturally structured with several stones of marble, and looked almost like a Greek bath house . Gentle sounds of rushing water followed between stones which flowed into the big pool of water. Little ripples scattered across the water causing the red flowers to bob up and down.

The humming persisted as Y/N felt her heart drop, she quickly scurried to the nearest marble pillar to conceal herself. The humming was growing louder and louder, could it be the hungry vampire? She wasn't certain if it was worse but it certainly felt like it, Lady Dimitrescu emerged from the shadows of the room, and strided to the water. She was only wrapped in the finest silk, a tight sheer white robe that hugged tightly against her hips. She definitely had a full figure, the robe delivered a silhouette of her motherly figure. It certainly complimented, the low cut of the robe teased her deep cleavage, the sheer silk revealed faint color and the shape of her puffy areolas. Even in the predicament Y/N was in, it was still hard not to appreciate Alcina's physical beauty.

Alcina continued her melodic hum for a few more moments as she admired the undulations of the floral water. " Y/N Y/L/N, you believe me to be foolish?", she broke from her tune as her eyes looked directly at Y/N. She gulped hard as she submitted to the acceptance Alcina would more than likely kill her. She continued to lay her back against the cold pillar, one hand applying pressure to her bleeding knee, the other containing the fear that was trying to escape her lips. " I could smell that delicious blood from here.", she chucked lightly, "Come here, now.", she demanded with her arms crossing. Y/N did not obey the command, she remained quiet behind the pillar. For minutes it consisted of painful sharp silence, only the sound of her terrified heart beats could be heard. Her ears burned and rung, it desperately needed the assurance Alcina was still idle. Did Y/N dare look beyond the pillar? She peeked over and Alcina was no where to be found. Consternation filled her as there wasn't even a trace of evidence to signify the direction Alcina went. Unexpectedly, Y/N felt a hard blow and collapsed on her side. Her hands releasing themselves, and a gasp of air evacuated her mouth. " Oh, I see. ", Alcina had kicked her, her foot pressed hard against her side. Her smooth leg exposed, tracing all the way to her innermost thigh. Her skin looked smooth like porcelain, but certainly felt the weight of heavy boulders as it rested on her. Y/N groaned in pain as she felt her foot dig deep into her. "Bleeding out on my perfect floors. Oh, what a mess. Although, it does certainly smells of of tart berries, yes, what a wonderful aroma.", Alcina breathed in the cold air, inhaling hints of Y/N's blood. She moaned in intoxication to the alluring smell of fresh blood. Alcina removed her foot from Y/N, she gasped for air in relief, and tried to attempt to sit up. Alcina quickly lunged forward without even a blink, and her long hand wrapped around Y/N's throat. "No, I don't think so.", Alcina smirked as her hand squeezed around her throat. She fell onto her back, the large vampress towering over, her large hand pressing into her throat.She was capable of breathing but it was incredibly taxing especially with the critical condition she was in. Desperate wheezing filled the air, it burned and stung inside of Y/N's throat. Alcina stared into her eyes, a long red smile stretched upon her pale white face. "Hmm, this is quite boring already. I am quite famished too.", she released her grip, ascended and brought her arms to her bosom to cross them. Y/N began to violently cough and gag as proper air flow returned to her lungs. After several minutes of constant heaving, she finally managed to collect herself. "Come.", Alcina ordered as she turned on the balls of her feet and waltzed to the bath. Y/N submitted, too exhausted to resist any longer. She barely could stand but managed, she approached Alcina with her eyes fixed on her every move. " My little one lacks control. Just as I would suspect with her age. If she doesn't stop stabbing you, you'll die. And I really have grown addicted to your flavor as well. I really would hate for you to bleed out one day because of her reckless actions.", she expressed with a sigh of annoyance. Suddenly, a knock interrupted her rambling, " Lady Dimitrescu,", it was the blonde vampire. Alcina let out another sigh in annoyance. "Yes?", she responded with a disinterested tone, as she crossed her arms a little more snug. Revealing a distracting amount of cleavage being pressed together. " Is Y/N in there?", she sniffed loudly as she strived to rattle the door knob open. " Yes, but I require her. I will discuss with you later some important matters. For the mean time, please do not disturb me and I'll return to you soon.", Alcina said sternly as her fingers drummed the top of her arms impatiently. "Yes, Lady Dimitrescu. ", the blonde vampire responded with pure disappointment in her tone.

"Now, where were we? Oh, yes. I've decided you will become my little feeding pet. My daughters do not know how to handle food without killing it. So you are now only mine. Clear?", she lowered herself and grabbed Y/N by the face. Turning her face side to side to examine the condition she was in. Y/N nodded to the best of her abilities, and quickly, Alcina released her. "Good. I'm glad you are willing. I want you to undress now." Embarassment flooded Y/N's mind, her cheeks buzzing with warmth. Why would she even demand that? " I intend on drinking the blood thats already spilling out of you. But I won't drink it while its been dragged around by a rusty sickle and pressed against the dirty floor.", her refined side was definitely exposed. She was different from her daughters, she wanted her meals much more virtuous. " Oh, now, now. I will even join you. They say when two are bathing they are equals.", she added as she disrobed herself. Gently she slide the robe off her shoulders and down her large breasts, as the robe began to flutter down to the marble. Her naked body exposed, and remarkable. Her large breasts sitting perky, her puffy areolas a light grey, and her waist down was incredibly curvy. Absolutely, a full figured silhouette. She dipped her feet in and followed by submerging her body into the bathwater. She let out a sound of relaxation as she smirked and beckoned Y/N. "Come, now."

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To be continued...

[jjaeong]

Rest Easy My Love, I’ll Always Be Your Favorite Girl.

Series: KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).

Pairing: Jung Jinsol & Orbit Female Reader.

Summary: Jung Jinsol had always loved her group’s fans, every single one of their supporters that she had met were all lovable—no matter if she was their favorite member or not. But among the several new faces she’d seen in their online meet & greets, a particular girl who Jinsol had always used to frequently see in their fan sign events had made the list for the meetup. In which Y/L/N Y/N was just like any other Orbit, living her life when she earns a scolding from her bias for not meeting up as much as they used to, along with Y/N receiving an unexpected gift with her signed copy of their album.

“Is that you Guppy? Ah, I can’t believe you’re trying to hide—I can see you clearly from way over here!”

You covered your face in embarrassment as the girl’s voice boomed through the speakers of the venue, with your body leaned to the side in attempt to conceal yourself further—though you could distinctly hear several fans beside you snickering and trying to call for the member’s attention. At this point, you could only wonder about what you’ve done in your past life to deserve such an oddly close relationship with your idol—along with the fact that she had never seemed to have changed with how she treated you since your second fan sign event.

But the idol didn’t seem too concerned about her interaction with you as she sat back down on her chair, placing her mic on the table with a grin set on her lips while fixing the blanket on her lap. You could only breathe in a relieved sigh when you sat back up to watch your favorite member fiddle with her mic, how she looked completely as if she belonged in the spot light—a soft smile on her lips as she scanned the crowd carefully and gave a few poses for the cameras that were directed at her along the way. The sight had always seemed to have strike a meaningful flashback to all of the other fan sign events you’ve met her in, but one particular fond memory would hit harder than the others—and it happens whenever you’d lock eyes with Jinsoul from your chair as you waited for your turn.

It was the first fan signing event you’ve attended after deciding that you had finally wanted to meet her in person.

A huge part of you wished that you had been there from the start, but you’ve only started to become their fan around Odd Eye Circle’s Mix & Match promotions—it wasn’t that late but still, you could’ve been there for her very first fan signing event. But the regretful thoughts were quick to wash away once you’ve entered the room, finding the girl sitting there in between Kim Lip and Choerry as she donned a vest in your favorite color—looking exactly the same in real life as in her music videos. And if that wasn’t enough to knock the breath right out of your lungs—she was even more ethereal once you were sat in front of her, a cheesy grin set on her lips as she leaned on the desk to scan your face thoughtfully.

“Hello! I’ve never seen you before.”

“You’re my favorite girl.” 

And just like that, as much as the memory was special moment—it was also one of the most awkward encounters you had ever had in your life, with you blurting the words out as if you’ve only meant to say it in your head for it to only come right out of your mouth. You could still feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as Jinsoul sat in front of you, blinking while Choerry and Kim Lip turned to look at the two of you with the biggest smirks plastered across their lips.

“I see.. Alright then, who exactly am I writing for?��� Jinsol popped her pen cap open, looking back down on your album with a smile still playing on her lips before she noticed that you weren’t replying—making her look up at your flushed features expectantly as you debated what you’d want her to write. Through your blushing state, you told her to just write the initials of your name which made her raise a brow but then deciding to just do it anyway before drawing an emoticon with it’s tongue sticking out—finishing the signature with a bunch of hearts around your initials before she looked up to find you just staring down thoughtfully at the album in her hands.

You didn’t even catch your idol’s endearing gaze set on your shy features even as you moved onto your time with Kim Lip, who seemed to be easier for you to talk to just like Choerry—but the girl kept teasing you which made you sit through your entire meeting all flustered and charmed at how beautiful she was inside and out. The first fan signing event went along with Jinsol’s gaze from your peripheral vision whenever you refused to look her straight in the eyes, and even as they left—she turned around to give you a shy wave which sent your heart summersaulting inside of you.

And with the second fan meeting, it was indeed the last confirmation you needed before choosing the girl as your favorite artist out of anyone out there.

“No, I’ve thought of a name for you—not that I think that it’s better than your initials but..” even before she could tell you what exact it was that she named you, Jinsoul quickly scribbled her chosen name for you under your initials that were written by Heejin. A satisfied grin set on her lips as she leaned back to stare at her art which made you lean over to find the word “구피” written on the cover with a small fish drawing at the end, making you tilt your head in confusion before looking back up at the beaming idol in puzzlement. The moment you’ve left the venue and sat in front of your computer, you quickly typed the name in the search bar to find it’s meaning—only to find that it was a fish, most commonly known to be the “Rainbow Fish”.

And also, one of the very few fish that you can have in the same aquarium as a betta fish.

Actually, it was the most optimal fish to be in the same space as a betta.

That night, you leaned back on your chair as you stared at the signed album in a completely dazed state—thinking about how Jinsoul didn’t just pick a simple nickname for you.

But your favorite girl gave you a pet name.

And now there you sat in LOONA’s nth fan meeting, still feeling the same exact nervousness from your first event as you watched the chair in front of Heejin slowly become unoccupied—the fan moving to meet Hyunjin as you were motioned over by their manager to occupy the recently vacated seat.

“Y/N! You’ve dyed your hair, it really suits you—ah, it’s your favorite color. Of course it’ll fit you.” Heejin didn’t even have to ask your name as she scribbled it down on the cover, making it a bit smaller—knowing that Jinsol would always somehow write her name for you at the end. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of Jinsoul-unnie? Have you ever thought of going to our fan signs for another member—like me, maybe?” Hyunjin teased which made you squirm in your seat in no time and Heejin laughing loudly next to her, hitting her best friend with both hands while Hyunjin leaned over the table to stare at you in anticipation.

“Ah! I knew it was you! Your hair looks so pretty—I bet Jinsoul would love it too! But what about that post of yours, the one where you were trying to convince people to stream Hyunjin’s ‘Around You’ MV—how’d that go?” Haseul’s eyes twinkled as she remembered what you told her in the last event—after she asked you what you’ve been doing since the meeting before, to which you just scratched the back of your neck at before replying that you suppose only time will tell. 

Yeojin stood from her spot to compare heights with you—which she always had done every fan sign after she had the idea that you grew taller every fan meeting—and with Vivi reminding you to bring extra layers on the next venue because she heard that the place had a history of a malfunctioning air conditioning system. You’ve barely finished speaking to Vivi when you heard a mic being tapped from the speakers, Jinsol’s low voice checking if her mic was on before she leaned over to peek over to you while you nodded along to Vivi’s gentle words.

“Y/N! Hurry up!” 

Kim Lip cackled next to the older member as you side-eyed the impatient blonde who was now impatiently fiddling with her mic, turning to look at the fan that previously sat in front of her—seated in front of Choerry while the younger OEC member giggled at the pouting blonde. Jinsol had just finished speaking to the next fan that was right before you when she started to whine like a child that wanted your attention as you sat in front of Kim Lip, leaned over as the member reached over to pat your head once you told her you’ve finished the work you’ve mentioned before that you were stressing over.

“You’ve worked hard, our Y/N~”

“Our!? Hey! She's here for me!” Jinsol taunted Kim Lip who just smiled at you as if the needy member didn’t exist, to which you could only smile apologetically to the OEC Leader at before standing up from your seat to look at a smug looking Jinsoul who was now leaned back on her chair—arms crossed and a brow raised as she attempted to look intimidating after all the whining she had done previously.

“You dyed your hair without asking me first? And here I thought I was special.” you grinned at the girl before playing along, glancing down at the colored strands of your hair before humming and looking up in thought.

“Oh? It was spontaneous, I didn’t think you’d be this much against it. I could always dye it back if it bothers you that much..” Jinsol snorted before leaning on the desk to pop her pen cap open, all while keeping direct eye contact with you as she smirked.

“No, I just asked why you didn’t tell me before you had it done—I didn’t say that I didn’t like it.” you dryly laughed at her statement which made her break from the character she had seemed to be playing, making you reach over to push the album over to her so she could get her signature done—you were only interacting with borrowed time, after all. But Jinsol, as always didn’t let it get to her—but instead, she grabbed ahold of your wrist before you had pulled it back from the table. Quickly drawing a silhouette Guppy fish on the back of your hand and positioning her hand to start signing your album until a manager behind her tells her to let go of you—which she did but not before looking up to frown at the person and mumbling things under her breathe as you laughed.

“Oh, I went to the Ocean Park with a friend the other day and I got you something.” you rummaged through your bag that had kept different kinds of gifts for each member, remembering well enough to not go over the top after Jinsoul had teased that you’ve practically attended their fan signs more than they have—that it was enough to see you continuing to be a loyal fan since your first event—but you couldn’t help but not pick the gift up, considering that it wasn’t everyday that you’d visit an Ocean Park right?

And it was also as if a higher power had willed it, out of all the sea creatures in the gift shop—there was only one stock left of what you’ve picked up as a gift for the girl.

Jinsoul’s look of disapproval at your mention of a gift turned into a soft gaze at the sight of the little plush rainbow Guppy fish dangling in your hands as you beamed at her, the idol’s heart warmed at the thought of you being outside and just taking a moment to remember her in the midst of your everyday life. She then reached over to take it from your grasp just before you pulled another plush keychain—a more familiar type of fish in Jinsoul’s eyes, making the girl look at you expectantly as you eyed the two keychains.

“I didn’t know if you’d want the Guppy, or the Betta so I just got both of them. They’re yours—”

“Keep that one,” Jinsoul quickly snatched the Guppy keychain from your hands, a shy smile on her lips as she continued to look down at the accessory in hand—completely disregarding your stunned features as you held up the Betta keychain between you two, “I like my Guppy.”

“Ah.. Great, good to hear.” you dragged, watching Jinsoul lean back to look around for a manager before she sneaked the item in her coat pocket and met your eyes again, an appreciative look set on her features.

“You’ll be here again next time, right?” the blonde had always asked the question, at this point you wondered why she continued to ask after your meeting even though you’ve never missed a single one since your second one—but as you’ve continued to tell her that you will, every single time, you’ve realized that it was just the idol’s way of telling you that no matter what happened, no matter how big they’d get or where life leads you.

She’ll always be there, as your favorite member—until the next time you’d meet.

“Of course, Jinsoul. I promise to work hard again this week if you do the same.”

“I promise.”

And so the fan meeting had ended, the girls had directed warm smiles and waves at the crowd—making a point to find you in your seat and mouth a quick goodbye just before Jinsoul smiled at you, disappearing into the exit as the staff started directing how everyone would leave the venue. 

What you didn’t expect however, was that fan meeting being the final face-to-face meet & greet you’re going to experience with the girls, the anguish that had you sulking for weeks after failing to attend the last event they had due to a sudden change of schedules in your classes—your professor announced that you’ll be having a test at the time of the meet & greet—and your part time work in a local coffee shop had also needed your assistance that day. It was practically the busiest day you’ve ever had since your routine of going to LOONA’s events, the day being something that you wish had never come to but what would you have done? The coffee shop was your only way of saving up money for the seats—and you were so close to finishing your degree in Humanities, it was just one day right? What could possibly go wrong?

A sudden influx with the case of a particular disease that had caused a pandemic to happen.

That’s what happened.

It was all downhill from there, you were balancing your university life in the cyberspace from your bed room condominium—all while feeling the burden of the sales dropping at the coffee shop you were working in which might put you in the list of workers they’d lay off. The situation that had unfolded before you had your mental state plummeting in no time, it was as if you were sitting on the edge of the cliff as you’ve lived through yet another day of getting up from your bed—turning on your computer, attending classes, leaving for work.. It was all robotic, and you absolutely despised it.

A few months had passed with you just trying to adjust to the circumstances, without thinking about anything else—at your own pace, as they’d like to call it—you started communicating with your friends again, life seemed to have became a bit brighter than how it was just before the pandemic had happened.

It wasn’t the best, but you could at least bear it better than the first few months.

You were writing down notes one night and your hand had managed to knock over a mug that you’ve filled with your pens, the contents spilling on your carpet to which had you quickly reaching over to collect the pens—but not before your eyes connected with a familiar keychain dangling from the zipper of your guitar bag. Looking up to your shelf and finding the several LOONA albums that had been displayed on it—the Orbit light stick, the photocard file folder, the Jinsoul album sat in full view next to the 12:00 album you still bought even if you never listened to it or tuned in with them at all.

You were in so much pain yet you still managed to buy the merchandise for when you were ready to come back.

But the Betta keychain was enough for you to go to their website and give the online meet & greet a shot.

“Woah! Look who it is—ah Jinsoul-unnie is going to be so surprised.. How have you been Y/N? Where have you been!?” Heejin lowered her voice when she  spoke your name, you sighed before telling her things didn’t go as well as you’d hope but it all paid off as you were finally back on track.

“..Really, it sucks that this had to happen but—what can we do right? As long as we’re here, we still have a chance of making up for the time we’ve spent alone instead of making great memories with everyone..” Olivia Hye gave you a reassuring smile as you nodded to her words in understanding.

“Give me your address—I’ll sneak you a slice of Heejin’s Cheesecake when she makes some again. It’s really tasty! I really couldn’t stop myself..” you laughed at Hyunjin’s sulking expression on the screen.

“Cookie Run! Cookie Run!” Gowon started chanting as you looked at her in confusion, making the girl burst out into a fit of giggles before she passed the phone to Haseul who practically shrieked at sight of you on the screen. You’ve passed through the surprised members until finally being handed onto your favorite member who was just the second to the last member you were going to interact with—to which Jinsoul didn’t seem to have seen your face the first time as she was plugging her earphone through the headphone jack until she had finished, eyes widening before breaking into a full smile but then quickly masking it with a scowl.

“Hey! You think you’re so brave to come here after I haven’t seen you in months!? What do you think you’re doing, huh Y/N!?” Jinsoul shouted through her receiver, making you pull one of your earplugs out as you winced before giving the girl a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I know. I know it’s been a while—it’s just..” you trailed off, trying to think of a way to properly explain the situation you were in without trying to make it sound as if you’re guilt-tripping the girl for shouting at you. The now dark-haired girl didn’t take a second before she shook her head, waving it in front of her dismissively as if hinting that she was just teasing.

“I know, this pandemic is the worst.”

“Yeah but I still think I could’ve at least tried to listen to your new album—”

“Y/N, you can listen to that anytime. The girls and I will always be here once you feel like you’re comfortable again. It wouldn’t make you any less of a fan if you take time for yourself, you know?” you frowned at the idol’s words as she gave you a dorky smile and pulled the camera in a close angle to her face, making you crack a smile and the girl giggle.

“But I heard that Heejin’s arms are the hot topic in our Voice performances these days, something about when they make the tree pose while Yves is dancing I think.”

“Oh? I wonder what that’s about.”

“And Hyunjin wearing her Apple watch to our stage—”

“No, she didn’t..” you gasped as Jinsoul laughed before the idol sighed, staring at you on the screen—almost as if longingly—until her eyes lit up and she pointed a finger to her hair.

“I also got my hair dyed!”

“I wouldn’t have guessed!”

“Y/N!” Jinsoul pouted as you laughed, resting your chin on the palm of you hand as you hummed—actually letting the black shade sink in.

“Not bad..” you dryly complimented the idol, teasing her further which made her groan.

“I’m your favorite!”

“You are, and I was kidding—of course you look pretty, you always have.” you could hear Kim Lip telling Jinsoul that it was her turn which made the girl panic, looking down at your photo album and writing down quickly.

“I missed you, just come back when you feel like yourself again—alright Y/N?” Jinsoul practically started rapping, slamming her pen on the desk as she finished signing over her picture and pulling the camera closer to show you the usual Guppy she’d drawn over your name—and now next to hers this time—before directing the camera back to her pointed look.

“Don’t stress over it! Work hard but always make sure to check up on yourself—take care of yourself,” Kim Lip seemed to have grabbed ahold of her arm as the phone shook in her hold, a smile breaking on Jinsoul’s lips as she resisted the members hold and struggled to keep the phone in her hand, “I love you! I’ll always be your favorite girl! See you later, my Guppy!” 

As she passed the device to Kim Lip, you and the member just burst into a fit of laughter practically half of the time you were supposed to be talking—but you couldn’t help it as Jinsoul kept leaning over to tell you that she loved you throughout the final member’s meeting. Once the meet & greet had ended, you felt the heavy weight that had set on you before the meeting vanish—the thought of the possibility that the older girl wouldn’t have treated you just as she had always did scared you so much that you started sobbing silently to yourself in your empty room, clutching the Betta keychain in hand while hugging your knees against your chest.

After the meeting, you scrambled to grab one of the few versions of the 12:00 album and before you know it—you started bawling your eyes out once Universe started playing through your speakers.

“Make it happen to you, make it happen to you.”

The days ahead seemed brighter after the online event, with you walking home a few weeks after—the album playing on repeat but you’ve also shuffled it some time to their entire discography—when you were called by the receptionist in the lobby for a package, which you could only hope was from the meet & greet a few weeks ago. So you hurried to get into your room to unpack the box and open it to find out that it was indeed the photo album from the online event—on top of another box with a striking shade of blue. The idea of it being from your idol made your hands shake as you reached over to retrieve it, finding it odd how it seemed to be light in weight but also had a hefty amount to it. 

Pulling off it’s lid, you were greeted by a see-through box of what seemed to be small LEGO bricks with a manual underneath it, a tiny crocheted red bear, all on top of a brown wool plaid scarf and a baby blue sweater. You looked around the box to find anything else attached to it—and soon enough you found yourself reaching under the box to grab a blue envelope from under the container, opening it and unfolding the paper for your insides to flutter just as it used to before the fall of your mental state.

“Dear Y/N (My Guppy),

I’m sneaking these extra things in hopes that the staff won’t notice, but I thought you’d like them because while I was going through the same months as you were—these were the things that had brought me a sense of comfort, it took my mind off things and I thought that maybe it’ll work for you too!

Because Y/N had always seemed to have me on her mind in days when we don’t see each other—just as she had always been in mine! You can count on that!

Anyway, the LEGO set turns into an orange tabby cat (like in Hyunjin’s music video ㅋㅋ), the crocheted bear was made by me (you should also try crocheting, it takes some time to get used to it though), and the baby blue sweater is just one of mine. Haseul seemed to have caught up to my plan and told me to give you the wool scarf that matched her shirt? I don’t really know, she must want to match something with you too after she asked me about your keychain on my bag once.

But Y/N! You’ve been taking care of yourself lately, right? Just like I told you to? I just hope this simple gesture would brighten your day, because I am still your favorite girl right? 

Ah, Y/N, I don’t know what else to say. I always want to tell you so many things but our time had always been so short, and now that I have the opportunity to write it down..

I missed you.

And I love you.

I’ll keep being the Jinsoul that Y/N looks up to dearly because I know that one day, we’ll see each other again and we can continue with our jokes and ask about how our weeks had been (maybe I should start asking our manager if I can just give you a reserved ticket every time). So you take really good care of yourself until then, alright? I’ll be waiting, Y/N, until we finally meet again.

No matter how long it’ll take, okay?

Rest easy, my love.

I’ll always be your favorite girl.

From,

Jung Jinsol (Your Betta)."

An extra GIF because I love how Jinsoul loves us and I live for Kim Lip's embarrassed reactions every time anything remotely awkward happens in front of her lmao. And yes you've read through this correctly—it's a one shot~

I've basically done so many things for the past few days, I think it's what people call overstimulating? But as that was happening, those allega—tors, yes the alligators with 10 and 2. I hate how we got those after we literally were celebrating over the Haseul pic and Orbit ring message.

(I also had another writer's block moment with The Heiress but don't worry, I can see their characters again after listening to my inspo music for that series—which got me side tracked when it got to a brighter tone song and made me write this Jinsoul one shot for practice again.)

And I thought of a cute Choerry plot~

Music really gets you in a mood.

But the color correction post is coming up after this—I just want you guys to have a feel of how I envision the scenes, it might be just a bit of light tweaking and etcetera but it really does make a difference in triggering my writing mood.

Oh and if you're wondering if I'll ever make a girlfriend type oneshot/series—even I am as well, I like the idea that you could think that in the end you'll end up together or if you've been together from the start.. The underlying meanings fascinate me so much I do not have words for it.

I'm easing into this again, alright I'm going to go now but I'll be back with more stuff.

..If I don't get pulled into finishing my Little Nightmares DLC before starting on the second one.

Also, yes that was me plugging Hyunjin's MV because I love her and I love her underrated solo.

Laters,

JJ.

>ovc: loonatheworld (171212)

https://youtu.be/eUeFUBy40ow

undefined

[holylulusworld]

Paid

Request: Have you ever considered writing a mafia!reader x Dean? like maybe he need more money to help Sam in school but what he earn isn't enough so he start to hustle at pool but then he plays one of her men and when they took him to her, she doesn't punish him because she remember he and Sam were the only one not afraid to be her friends in school. She gives him one of her clean activity so he can help Sam and stay safe. I think it would be an interesting scenario to see 

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Mobster!Reader; Sam Winchester x Ruby ‘the dame’ Demon

Characters: Bobby Singer

Warnings: angst, language, mobster business, fluff, implied smut, secret relationship, I mention the word sex slave (in a funny conversation)

A/N: Please excuse the awful mobster nicknames. 😉; Gabriel and Gadreel are brothers for my story. (Please consider their surname, just like Ruby’s as a joke)

Part 3/3 - Catch up here:

Part 1 - Debts

Part 2 - Interest

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“Fuck,” someone growls next to your room, moaning audibly. The female seems to enjoy herself and you wonder if Dean had the guts to bring a random girl into your house. It’s not as if you are in a relationship but you will not tolerate he disrespects you. “Harder,” the woman now orders, and you switch the light on.

Angrily clenching your jaw, you get out of your bed to storm toward your door, muttering under your breath.

“I will kill him,” ripping your door open you walk toward the room you offered to Dean only to bump into your mechanic, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, pointing toward the room his baby brother inherits during the Christmas holiday. “I told Sammy to not bring any girl here.”

“Ah, yeah,” you huff, relieved it wasn’t Dean who brought a girl to your home. “Uh-while we are awake at 3 am how about we get a snack?” you offer, giggling as Dean’s eyes drift toward your chest. “We still got some pie left.”

“I always liked Garfield,” humming to himself, his eyes still glued to the shirt you are wearing, he licks his lips. “Do you have matching shorts too?”

“Careful, Winchester,” sliding your hand into his large palm you lead Dean down the stairs. “I can still not share the pie with you.”

“Did I mention I’m sorry Sammy brought a random chick to your home? He’s young, just broke up with his girlfriend or she with him,” scratching his scruffy chin Dean shrugs. “Young love – huh?”

“Ya know, when I was young, like Sam-,” you giggle, acting as if you are elder than you are. “Back then, things were easier.”

“I remember clearly,” Dean nods, huffing as the door to the kitchen flings open.

Sam steps inside, grinning cheekily, followed by the girl he brought home.

“RUBY?” gasping you watch Ruby smirk when she leads her lover inside your kitchen. “What did I tell you about seducing Dean’s brother?” you scold, laughing as your friend shrugs, a dirty grin on her lips.

“Look at him,” she swoons, sliding her hand over Sam’s chest, making the tall man shiver at her touch. “He’s so tall and handsome. I can climb up at him and he, well he can manhandle me the way he wants to,” she turns her head toward you, giving you a wink, “and I let him, Y/N. Thrice…”

“I think I just lost my appetite,” choking on his pie Dean shudders. “Sammy, you are here for Holidays, not to break more hearts.”

“She jumped at me, Dean,” Sam defends, mirroring your friend's grin. “Ruby is a bad girl, so demanding and tiny.” now you shudder as Sam looks down at Ruby, shamelessly roaming her body with his eyes.

“I warned you, Y/N. You knew when Dean brings his brother in my territory there is a high risk I’ll just snatch him out of his hands and do dirty things with him,” Ruby coos. “Look at him. His girlfriend broke his heart, and he needs someone to help him ease the pain.”

“They are shameless,” muttering Dean whispers in your ear. “How about we eat the pie in my room and plan how to survive seeing my brother half-naked with your friend.”

“Deal-“

“Christmas is close, and you are a free man now,” humming Dean closes the trunk of the last car he repaired while still in your debts. ”Just saying boy, it’s not too late to run. I don’t want to lose the best mechanic I ever had, but Y/N’s kind of business is not for you.”

“I signed a contract and-“ watching you walk toward him Dean smiles, sighing dreamily as you are wearing a red plaid, matching his. He gave it to you to thank you for your kindness, hoping you’ll like it.

“Nice new shirt, kiddo,” Bobby watches you and Dean warily. “Ah balls, kids,” lifting his cap Bobby mutters under his breath. “Does anyone know yet?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” swallowing thickly Dean looks at Bobby, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Let’s have lunch and talk about Holidays or something.”

“You are wearing matching clothes. The hickey on your neck tells me someone gave you a bit too much attention and,” Bobby laughs when you poorly try to hide the grin on your lips, “my kiddo looks like a love-sick teen next to you.”

“Bobby, don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, looking over your shoulder, not missing Gadreel and Benny watch your every step. “Gadreel still doesn’t like Dean and I want to make sure he’s safe.”

“Sooner or later people will find out you are dating your mechanic, Y/N. I can protect him while he’s at work, but not all the time. If you want this man,” huffing Bobby looks at Dean, before he pinches the bridge of his nose, “you must clarify he’s yours. Like your father would’ve done.”

“I’m not my father,” you quip. “I told you that I’ll not claim someone to make sure he’s-“

“Kiddo, if you clarify Dean is yours, everyone will stay the fuck away from your man. No one will dare to touch a hair on his head, you know it.”

“But-“ sputtering the word you nod, looking at the man right in front of you, wearing a matching plaid. “You are right, Bobby. If I want Dean to be safe, I’ll have to make my claim on him known.”

“Claim?” cocking his head Dean laughs nervously. “Will you just ‘take me’ right in front of the people? How does this work?”

“I will declare you are my man, parade around town with you. We need to be seen and my men will spread the word. I would’ve asked Ruby for help but she’s busy screwing your brother’s brain out,” your face stoic you try to explain the consequences of your relationship to Dean.

“Don’t mention Ruby and Sammy-“ shuddering Dean looks at you, frowning as he can see a single tear run down your cheek. “What’s wrong? I’m up to this whole claiming thing, promised. I got no problem if anyone knows we are a pair.”

“Dean, you’ve got no clue what this means to you and your life. Everyone will know you are mine-“ sniffling you hate you are not a normal woman, living a normal life. “This would ruin you and your reputation. Not to mention it would effect Sam’s life too.”

“Yeah-and?” cocking a brow Dean looks at you. “Sammy is a grown man and he just started to have an affair with one of your most trusted people.”

“When she says you are hers, Y/N means it. All the people in town, everyone you have ever known will hear that you are in her debts and that’s the reason she made you her lover,” Bobby tries to reason with Dean, failing miserably.”

“Like a sex slave?” a dirty grin on his lips Dean looks at you. “Right? They will think you forced me into your bed to pay my debts. Uh-dirty. Do you want me to have your name on my ass or shoulder?”

“Dean, this isn’t funny,” stepping closer you cup Dean’s cheek, softly pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. “I want you to have a good and fulfilled life. With me, you’ll never be free.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be free, not if it means living without you, sweetheart,” Dean presses his lips to yours, swallows all your protests. “I don’t care how – as long as we can be together.”

“We are going to marry,” Ruby exclaims, snickering when Dean’s mouth falls open. “Sam wants to be my husband sooner than later.”

“Ruby, stop giving my boyfriend a heart attack. It’s Christmas and not nice of you to do so,” you scold. “I hope you used condoms, kids. We don’t want little Ruby’s run around the house.”

“Aw, we wanted to have three or four kids,” laughing at Dean’s pained expression Ruby sits next to Sam, grinning widely. “I was just joking. I can assure you we acted like responsible young people.”

“Why is she here during Christmas again?” Dean whispers in your ear.

“Just like me, Ruby got no family left. All of her friends work for me and are with their families over Christmas, well except for the ones protecting us. But they work in shifts, so everyone has a day off for Christmas.”

“You’re a good boss,” Sam looks around the large living room, admiring the Christmas tree you chose this year. “Dad never got a Christmas tree.”

“I do it every year. It’s the only good thing I remember when I think about my father. He got the prettiest tree for my mom and me before he decided to file for divorce and sent us away,” you sniff, holding Dean’s gaze.

“Dad was a hard man, but I try to remember the good things, not his bad habits,” Dean mumbles. “I understand very well how you feel, Y/N.”

“That’s nice,” humming silently you watch the fire die in the fireplace in your bedroom. “I could get used to having you in my arms for the rest of my life, Y/N.” Dean tries, carefully bringing your relationship up again.

“Dean, we’ve talked about this. If we make it official, there is no turning back. The moment you break up with me or leave me for someone else, you are fair game. This is nothing I want for you,” sniffling you hide your face in Dean’s neck, wetting his skin with your tears.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want someone else or to leave. My mom used to say that when you find the right person, your person,” pecking your hair Dean sighs deeply, “you feel like you belong, you feel like coming home.”

“Coming home,” lifting your head to meet Dean’s eyes you fight to blink the tears away. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“I feel like that around you, Y/N. Whenever you are with me, it feels like home. I don’t care if anyone believes I owe you shit. All I want is to be with you, no matter what.”

“You sure, Dean?”

“Damn sure,” smiling you hold Dean’s gaze. “I don’t want to leave or find someone else. Please don’t shut me out, baby girl.”

“You feel like home to me too,” kissing him softly you smile against Dean’s lips. “Good thing you paid your debts, or your ass would be all mine-“

“I’m all yours, Y/N. Every part of me…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx

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@notbrooklynsblog

--------------------------------------

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

@spnfamily-j2

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@deans-baby-momma​

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@thoughts-and-funnies​

@lyarr24​ 

@givecki​

@beabutterfly987​

@deandreamernp​

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Winter Court Wedding

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: This has been in my head for a few days and I had to get it out of my head so I could write other stuff XD

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) 2,356 words... yup it ran away from me again. This one pretends Tamlin isn’t a terrible person so we get Rhys instead 😉 @itscheybaby

^^^^^

“Rhysand?” I called through the town house.

“Yes?” His voice was coming from the kitchen.

I went downstairs, holding the box I’d found in our room. “What’s this for?” I asked, indicating the heavy fur-lined black cloak with silver embroidery of the moon and stars up the sides.

“Can’t I give you a gift just because I want to?” His smirk was almost too casual for me to believe him.

“You know I prefer coats in Velaris,” I replied. “So there’s something going on.”

He sighed, wings drooping. “Alright. You caught me,” he muttered. “We’re going to the Winter Court.”

“What for?”

“Kallias and Vivane’s wedding.”

“Didn’t they get married like an hour after he got back from Under the Mountain?”

Rhysand folded his arms, tucking his wings against his back a little tighter. “Yes,” he said carefully, “but they’re hosting a formal reception for their court, as well as for the other High Lords. I’m sure Kallias doesn’t actually want to invite us, or any of the other High Lords for that matter, but Mor and Vivane are really good friends and I don’t think he wants to harm that relationship.”

“So Mor’s coming with us, then?”

“Unfortunately, no. She has to put out a fire in the Court of Nightmares.”

“Literal or figurative?”

“Figurative. Keir is pitching fits again.”

“Ah. Same old, same old, then.”

“Pretty much.”

I decided to change the subject.

“So, the cloak is to keep me warm in the Winter Court climate, I’m assuming.”

“Yes. Hopefully without damaging your dress. Sometimes your coats rumple the skirts. While we’re in Velaris—and anywhere in the Night Court that’s not the Court of Nightmares, really—I don’t mind. But you know what we look like to the other courts. The image we present.”

Wealthy, dangerous, ruthless, powerful Night Court High Fae. Immaculate and pristine. Never even a hair out of place. Always in control of every situation. The High Lord who always got what he wanted, his thunderstorm of a High Lady by his side. Nary a trace of the Illyrian half-breed with self-worth issues and the Autumn Court runaway who’d never belonged anywhere.

“I know,” I said.

Rhys approached me and pulled the cloak out of its small box. “Besides,” he said, slinging it around me, “it does look rather fetching on you.” He bent his head and pressed a kiss to my neck.

“Charmer,” I teased.

He laughed. “I could say the same about you.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “I missed you, while you were… gone.”

Even though he insisted he was fine, I still did my best not to mention Under the Mountain. The secrets he’d been forced to keep, the things he’d been forced to do to keep me and the rest of the Night Court safe. We talked about it when he needed to, and I would always be there for him, but I didn’t need to force the past forty-nine years on him.

Rhys put his arms around my waist under the cloak and buried his nose in my hair. “I missed you too.”

“So when do we leave for the Winter Court?”

He knew I was changing the subject away from what I didn’t want to bring up, but he let me. “Tomorrow. We may stay overnight, we may not.”

“Shame Mor’s not coming with.”

“Agreed. She’d love to see Viviane again.”

“We’ll find some way to reunite them. How about that?”

“I think it sounds delightful. We’ll put them in a sound-proof room so we don’t have to hear them squealing into the late hours of the night.” His sarcasm was not lost on me. I chuckled. We swayed in place for a bit. “Let’s go get prepared for tomorrow, darling,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed.

—

I already miss the Northern mountains, I thought at Rhys, wrapping the beautiful new cloak tighter around me to suppress a shiver. Even they aren’t as cold as this.

He hid his amused smile with a lazy smirk, boredly surveying the Winter Court ice waste around us as the reindeer-pulled sleigh whisked over the snow. I agree, he thought back, but it’s not for very long.

The small tiara I’d chosen to accompany my gown was like I’d wrapped an icicle around my scalp. The metal of it practically frozen to my skin.

The sleigh turned a corner.

“By the Cauldron,” I breathed.

The palace was made of ice. It towered into the sky with sharp jags and icicle towers, hexagonal walls filtering sunlight from behind. White-furred bears patrolled the battlements alongside the soldiers. All of whom sported white hair and pale blue uniforms. Snow was falling, but there was only a scattering of clouds. The High Lord’s magic, then, probably.

It might be a good idea to close your jaw, Rhys advised, no sarcasm present. We have an image to maintain while we’re here.

Right, I thought.

The sleigh driver pulled us up to a half-circle drive of packed snow. At the apex of the half-circle were two massive doors to the palace, wide open to the deep blue gloom of indoors. After slowing to a stop, we gave the driver a curt but polite thank-you and swept out of the sleigh. I caught Rhys flicking a finger before offering me his arm. What magic did you just do? I thought at him.

Tipping the driver. It’s polite but I definitely don’t want to be seen doing it. Would ruin the monster reputation I’ve spent centuries building. An image accompanied his reply—of a cheeky wink. I sent him back nothing but laughter.

An attendant—a young “lesser” faerie female with skin the color, texture, and reflectiveness of powdered snow—guided us inside. It was a lot warmer within the ice-crafted walls than I would have expected. I almost wanted to remove my cloak. The attendant looked absolutely terrified of us. Rhys and I barely acknowledged she was there, both keeping impassive expressions on our faces. I wished I could reassure her that everything was alright—that we were friendly—but I knew why I couldn’t.

She led us up what technically counted as a spiral staircase—despite it being hexagonal and not perfectly circular—to a suite of rooms. “His Lordship hopes you will be comfortable here,” the attendant said.

“Thank you.” A curt dismissal from Rhys. She scampered away.

Once she was gone and the doors closed, both of us relaxed. “I hate acting like that,” I muttered.

“Me too. But every High Lord puts on a face,” Rhys said. “You remember Helion. He seems terribly prickly and temperamental in public but is quite amusing and kind in private.” Rhys sat on a white sofa embroidered with sky blue winter flora and a few snowflakes.

“I do remember Helion. I also remember wishing you’d given me a warning about it. I was ready to punch him for being so rude to you.”

Rhys winked at me. “That wouldn’t have been nearly as fun,” he replied. I rolled my eyes. “Well, love, there’s nothing to do but wait until the reception. We did arrive a little early.”

“Four hours is ‘a little’?” I joked.

All I got was a shrug. “I like making statements,” he replied casually. “I arrive when I wish and I don’t care about their scheduling. Usually I would prefer to show up late to make it seem like I really don’t care about whatever it is they’ve had the courage to invite me to, but sometimes it’s more fun to arrive much earlier than planned and make that everyone else’s problem.”

I laughed. “You do a good job of making your act seamless.”

“Centuries of practice, darling.” He lounged on the sofa but patted the seat next to him. I sat beside him. It was almost warm enough inside to remove my cloak, but not quite. Rhys’ body heat was helping make up the difference. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

I grinned. “Thanks. You’re quite stunning yourself.” Black jacket, immaculately embroidered in silver and gold, deep midnight blue shirt underneath buttoned all the way up to hide his tattoos, black slacks with a single ring of silver thread around the ankles. It had taken me an hour to convince him to wear a blue shirt instead of black. But it really brought out his eyes. Dimmed the blazing, powerful violet just enough to reveal that his irises were actually blue.

“I’m always stunning,” he replied.

I smacked him in the chest with the back of my hand. “Arrogant,” I accused.

He kissed me. “You like it though.”

I rolled my eyes.

—

The ballroom was enormous. Pillars of glimmering ice reflected faelight bobbing around the ceiling. It was lightly snowing inside. Winter Court High Fae and faeries milled around, talking, eating, drinking. A line extended away from the bride and groom. Well-wishers offering their congratulations.

Rhysand wasn’t going to bother waiting in the line. I knew that. We’d approach from behind or from the other side, offer our regards, and then leave.

But not immediately.

The ballroom was warm enough that I passed my cloak to a waiting attendant. My gown was so dark violet it was almost black. A bell-shaped skirt dotted with beads in the shape of stars swished over the ice floor, lightly dusted with snow. The gown’s sleeves barely capped my shoulders, but the long black satin gloves that ended two inches from the bottom of the sleeves helped keep my arms warm. The bandeau tiara had three dark amethysts glinting among the white diamonds.

The finery wasn’t terribly comfortable, but I knew the effect it had on others.

Rhys and I wandered the ballroom, mingling only occasionally—and only if the other party dared approach us first.

Including High Lord Tamlin of the Spring Court and his charming bride-to-be, Feyre Cursebreaker. Both of them looking happy and healthy and more in love than ever.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Rhys,” Tamlin said begrudgingly. His eyes flicked over to me. I didn’t have to be daemati like Rhys to know what he was thinking. The whispers of the other faeries milling about followed me the moment we entered the room, and Tamlin was likely in agreement.

Freak. Unnatural. Witch. Lightning was not meant to be harnessed by magic like that. She doesn’t belong in any court.

I thought about snapping something at Tamlin, but Rhys cut in smoothly, “We could hardly miss an important function such as this, Tamlin.” He inclined his head at the female on Tamlin’s arm. “A pleasure to see you again, Feyre.”

“Wish I could say the same about you,” she replied dryly.

Rhys tsked, but didn���t say anything to her. “Enjoy the party,” he said to both of them instead before pulling me away. I waved at Feyre, letting an apology touch my expression. Her glare softened a moment and she lifted her fingers as though to wave back, but thought better of it.

I turned away. She’d saved Tamlin and freed the other High Lords and their courts from Amarantha. She gave Rhys back to me—and I couldn’t even give her the thanks she deserved. Electricity crackled in my veins. Rhys jolted slightly as I shocked him. No one else would have noticed.

Easy, he thought at me. What’s wrong?

I let him into an antechamber in my shields, to see what I thought and felt without having to explain. Thoughtful silence followed. We’ll find a way to let you thank her. For us both to thank her. She gave me back to you, too.

Thank you, I thought at him.

Of course. I felt a loving caress against my shields. I sent one in return.

Rhys took me through the crowd, occasionally offering greetings to the High Fae and faeries who didn’t cower as we passed. Rhys’s damper on his power had been loosened. Not released completely, but relaxed—allowing tendrils of darkness to drift from him like shafts of steam. It was an intimidation tactic. He did it a lot.

“Kallias. Viviane,” Rhys said as we approached the bride and groom. Both looked resplendent. Viviane in her simple but no doubt expensive gown that glittered like powdered snow under the moonlight. They turned to us. “Morrigan sends her regards and regrets that she couldn’t make it.” Those words were directed at Viviane. She smiled at the both of us. More warmly at me than at Rhys.

“Congratulations to you both,” I said with a genuine smile. “You deserve to be happy with one another.”

Kallias gave me a cold stare. Wondering where my calculating, ruthless High Lady mask was, no doubt. But I did want them to know that I was happy for them. That I was happy they’d found one another after Amarantha.

“Thank you,” Viviane said before Kallias could reply. She reached out and took my hand in both of hers. “And thank you for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Rhys said smoothly, smirking slightly.

“We left our gift on the table with the others,” I said softly to Viviane.

She gave me a warm grin. “Thank you. Thank you, both.”

I returned the grin and Rhys bade a curt goodbye to Kallias before we retreated back into the crowd.

“Care to dance?” I asked.

“With you? Always.” He smiled at me. For a moment I forgot we were in another court. All I could think of was him. All I could see was those blazing eyes—that lazy smile. His warmth against me.

I didn’t realize I must have been showing that on my face because he leaned down and kissed me. “The rest of tonight is going to be so much fun,” he whispered suggestively, giving me that playful smirk he always had when he knew we were both going to get what we wanted from each other before the night was over.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the Winter Court chill travelled down my spine. Excitement. “Oh, I think it will be,” I replied.

[rosesbxrry-main]

Cat ears and tail 🐾

Warning: NSFW 

Characters: Todoroki Shoto with Female Reader 

Summary: The thing about being a Hero is that sometimes, mistakes can happen; which is why Todoroki got hit by a villain’s quirk by accident. Now, he doesn’t know which one is more embarrassing, having cat ears or having a cat tail. But nothing tops off his embarrassment by the fact that he had to come home and see your reaction to both of the traits on him. 

“Let me guess-“ You said, staring at Todoroki’s cat ears; which is something you never imagine witnessing until now. The colour of the ears corresponds to that of his own hair colour that splits into red and white.

You glance sideways to catch a glimpse of his tail (which was oddly only white) and tried your best to stifle a squeal at how adorable he looked.

“-A villain’s quirk?” You ask, hands cross with pursed lips. It was a facade; you really want to pet his hair now because of his cute and fluffy ears. But you and Todoroki have been together for years now and you know for a fact that, judging by the expression on his face-he doesn not like this.

To him; this was humiliating. If only he dodge it fast enough, he would have avoided the villain’s quirk. He was lucky that the mission had ended before the agency decided it would be best to dismiss him for the rest of the day.

Hia first concern was to avoid any paparazzi, fans or anybody he knows on the way home. That's why he opted to wear a cap to hide his ears and tie a jacket around his waist to hide his tail (he tried to hide it in his pants but it was too uncomfortable so he had to cut a hole at the back).

His second concern was you. Coming home to see your reaction was what he dreaded the most. Todoroki can’t explain why he felt so embarrassed. Maybe it’s because he always wants to show his capable side to you; and showing up with cat ears and tails is not one of them.

“Come on, dinner’s ready”

You said, a small smile on your face before you walk back to the dining room. Todoroki nodded, grateful that you had brushed the topic aside.

You had prepared cold soba for dinner; which is something easy to make when the both of you are busy. You secretly watch as he put a mouthful of soba noodles in his mouth with his chopsticks.

“It’s good”

He stated, his voice monotone like always whenever he talks. You had gotten used to his deadpan face and learn to differentiate the littlest detail between each expression that indicates his emotions.

But then, his cat ears twitch with the tips curling forwards a little bit. Glancing at his tail, it was standing upright aligned with his back. You let out a small chuckle which causes him to stare at you with a confused look.

“It’s nothing. It’s just... you must really like the soba tonight” you try to explain, but you failed to mention how his cat ears and tail showed how happy and satisfied he was with the food; in contrast to his blank face.

How can someone be so adorable?

Todoroki went to shower after dinner while you busy yourself with cleaning up. You turn around after washing the dishes to him standing behind you; wet hair with dropping cat ears, hands occupied with a towel. Cheeks flush as he stared at you with a nervous look, eyes lowered to the floor.

“Can you dry my hair for me?” 

Something in you combust at the sight of him. Was he trying to give you a heart attack? You try to remain composed and calm, clearing your throat with a slight blush. 

“Of course, let's head to the couch then”  

The both of you sat facing each other at the couch of the living room. With the towel in hand, you begin to gently tousle Todoroki’s damp hair; making sure to not accidentally rub too hard on his sensitive cat ears. Your eyes kept darting to his tail that was twitching ever so slightly. 

Todoroki close eyes in content; shoulder relax at your touch. For some reason the way you pat and wipe his hair was stimulating him; especially when you rub certain spots that make his throat itching to let out soft humming.

The sounds he let out does not come unnoticed to you as his head begins to lean closer to you, as if to let you know he wanted more. You try to wipe every surface and discover the spot that made him purred more; just at the back of his human ears above his nape. 

You focus on the spot by messaging it in circular motion. The sensation was electrifying the more you rub. Todoroki could feel an overwhelming pleasure arousing in him; like the feeling of finally being able to scratch the area at one’s back that was pulsing with itchiness. Goosebumps start to form on his skin and he shudders before letting out soft moans of delight.  

Your movement stops when you catch sight of his crotch. The material of his grey sweatpants was tight against his hard cock, the outline now very visible to your eyes. 

Todoroki’s drooping eyes watch as your cheeks flush before his eyes follow yours. He looked down before realizing that his dick was now hard and very aroused by you drying his hair. He was prepared to apologize to you but the sight of you shamelessly staring at his hard on sensually causes him to grab onto the towel on his head, pulling it away to drop it on the floor. 

You glance back at him because of that, feeling his hands grasping your wrist to pull you closer to him for a kiss. You move to sit on his lap, straddling him on the hips as he grabs your nape to deepen the kiss. 

You let your fingers wander around his hair, reaching to touch the cat ears; fingernails lightly scratching at the thin soft surface. It twitches at your touch, which causes a mewl to erupt in his throat muffled by your lips on his. He shifts uncomfortably at the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through his body from his ears. 

He pulled your body closer, rubbing his clothed dick against your heat. 

“Ahh...Shouto...mmhmm...I need more...” 

He complied; pulling your shirt together with your bra up, releasing your breast with a bounce. He salivates at the sight of your perked nipples, engulfing one of it into his mouth and sucking it. 

You cried out his name, feeling his tongue flicking at the slit of your nipple. You gather the strength to strip your shirt and bra completely before pulling his head flushed against your chest. While you were high on the pleasure of his mouth on your nipple, Todoroki’s fingers started to strip you of your shorts and panties. 

A loud moan ripple through your throat; back arching on his lap when fingers rub against the lips of your pussy. His own groans vibrate against your breast, causing your eyes to water at the amount of pleasure. 

He could feel how wet you were as his finger continued to stroke your soaked folds rapidly with an even force. Your juices were starting to coat his fingers, the fluid running down his palm. He kisses your breast a few times before pushing you down on the couch with him on top of you. 

Todoroki proceeds to strip himself of his clothes, his heterochromia eyes looming over your figure. He moved his body so that his face was close to your heat while he maneuvers his legs to cage your head side. 

His dick was at eye level to you; the smell of his semen filled your nostril and you could see a stream of precum leaking down his length. You reach out with an open mouth to engulf the head, sucking and licking as much as you can take. 

At the same time, Todoroki proceeds to lick you folds; swirling his tongue over every crevice of your moist pussy. The sound of wet slurping filled the room mixed with moaning and groaning. 

You grip onto his thighs when Todoroki begins to lightly thrust into your mouth, his own pace quickens when lapping your heat. A familiar feeling tightened in your gut as the pleasure took over every sense of your body when he began to push his tongue into your hole.

His tail caught your attention; it swayed side to side above you. Something urged you to grab onto the base of the tail, squeezing it with much difficulty as tears began to blur your vision. 

Todoroki immediately flinches when he feels your hands on his tail; an explosion of overwhelming pleasure obliterates his senses. He let out the most high pitch moan you had ever heard, back arch and mouth agape as you watch his whole body trembles.

“Fuck- not there..ahhh...it’s sensitive there...nghhh...i’m cumming....”

You felt his dick throb in your mouth before he came into your mouth, the intense aroma of his fluid filled your nose and the salty taste invaded your taste buds. You could hear his toes curling as he repeatedly let out streams of moan as he continued to empty out his seed into your mouth.

Todoroki could barely see anything; hear anything. The only thing he could feel was the overwhelming pleasure as he climaxed. He tries his hardest to not collapse his body on top of you as he was beginning to lose feeling in his legs and arms. 

You swallow down every bit of his seed, enjoying the view of him coming undone; though your lips and mouth was numb from his cock stretching you for a long period of time. 

When he began to calm down and regain his strength, Todoroki moved away to sit down; head resting on the backrest of the couch. You sit up and wipe away the remains of his semen at the corner of your mouth. You gaze at him; face flush with sweat dripping down his neck, chest panting and eyelids drooping down. 

He looked almost spent after the intense high of the climax.

He looked so fucked

You glance down at his crotch, surprise to see his dick still standing hard against his stomach; the veins around his length protruding out as if begging for another release. You crawl towards him across the sofa, your weight dipping on the cushion, causing his eyes to glance at you approaching him.

He welcomes your body on his lap, circling his arms around your torso, connecting each other's lips together for a wet kiss.

All the while, you reach down to grip his dick, rubbing it against the entrance of your heat.

“Shouto, I need you inside. I can’t wait any longer” you moan at the warm feeling of his slick dick against your trembling hole.

“Shit-“ Todoroki hissed at the feeling, his head still sensitive from his previous climax. But he can’t deny the feeling of wanting to be inside you as well.

You push his head at the entrance before slowly descending his whole length inside, feeling him stretching your walls.

“Your so big Shouto...ngghh...it’s touching me everywhere”

You began to bounce on his dick, hands gripping on his board shoulder for support. Every time his dick thrust into your sweet spot, you let out a stream of moans- gasping for air as you quicken your pace.

Todoroki watches your face contract with pleasure as you mercilessly move up and down his cock. The warmth and tightness of your pussy pushing him at the very edge of madness. His eyes lowered to watch your tits bounce at every movement- nipple hard and perk.

He dip down to swallow a nipple into his mouth, suckling the nub which in return, you let out a few mewls as he abuses your tits with his mouth.

The heat pooling in your gut was becoming bigger and as if he could sense it, Todoroki grabbed onto your ass- thrusting hard to meet your own movement.

“nghhh...harder shouto...i’m close”

The sound of wet slapping noise grew louder. He continues to shove deeper into you, every thrust feels like he was getting nearer to your womb. Your moans turn to an almost shout, eyes tearing up as your climax approaches.

“Fuck- cum baby, i’m close to-“ His thrust becomes more rapid, almost animalistic as he ram into you as hard as he can.

The both of you come intensely, orgasm wash over the both of you like a tsunami and you feel his seed filling you up to the bream. He continues to thrust slowly even after coming- making sure to milk out every single drop of his seed into your pussy.

The both of you pull each other closely, feeling the heat radiating off each other’s body. You rest your head against his shoulder, eyes close- feeling his hand slowly patting your back affectionately.

When they have settled down, Todoroki lay you down on the sofa before proceeding to clean you up with the towel on the floor. After that, he opted to cuddle with you on the couch, his car ear tickling your cheeks as he rested his head on top of your chest. You pet him, feeling the vibration of his purring against your chest.

You were glad that the quirk wore off the next day, or not, you don’t think your heart can handle Todoroki Shoto in cat ears and tail for long.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Lost Tomb Reboot Lewks: Part 12

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning: Spoilers for both seasons of The Lost Tomb Reboot

Look 61

The first look is Wu Xie’s road trip outfit, which includes this grey and white jacket. It has a contrasting elastic waistband, cuffs, and neckline, and slanted pockets. 

This is exactly the sort of jacket that my 5th grade science teacher would have worn in 1979, and she would have slayed in it.  She awakened something in me and it wasn’t love of STEM. (Spock was responsible for my love of STEM, and various other awakenings in 5th-grade me) I’m sure it would still look great on her, because she is probably a silver haired foxy granny now, and that’s who this jacket belongs on in the current century.

Wu Xie should never have gotten within a mile of this old lady jacket.

To clarify, I’m not being gender-essentialist here; I’m being ageist. If this jacket had some contemporary detailing or interesting features to offset its last-century vibe, the way Bai Haotian’s green roller derby jacket does, it would be fine even though I’m not a fan of this sort of collar in menswear. But it’s just a nicely-made old lady jacket. Mary Berry could bake a nice cake while wearing this jacket. 

Note: Liu Sang could wear the hell out of this jacket, of course, because that man can wear literally anything and make it look like it’s made of spun pheromones.

(more after the cut!)

Wu Xie eventually improves this look by taking the jacket off and giving the camera operator a nice long look at his ass. He’s wearing dark jeans and a long-sleeve white thermal shirt, which is a great improvement. 

Look 62

The granny jacket is contrasted by the blessed arrival of Huo Daofu’s daddy jacket, and the rest of the clothing that Huo Daofu is wearing with it.  This is a dark green jacket with a nipped in waist, military styling, and invisible stitching that says "obey" You can't see it, but oh, it's there.

He's wearing this jacket of domination with jeans so tight they appear to be made of paint. I approve of these jeans so much that I might need to take a break from writing for a moment. 

Instead of shoes he’s opted for a pair of tall riding boots, just in case anyone failed to get the message.

He finishes off this look with gold rimmed glasses, pomegranate-toned lips, and an air of authority so strong that even Pangzi does what he tells him to with minimal back chat.

Later the jacket comes off, so he can wrap it solicitously around the shoulders of a person who is already wearing a perfectly good jacket.  OP looks up “service top” in the dictionary.

Underneath, Huo Daofu is wearing a grey houndstooth waistcoat. Shen Wei’s tailor would gnash his teeth in envy, if he saw the cut of this vest. This tops off a warm-toned brown shirt worn with a silver-toned watch. The watch is...round, and it tells time. He’s wearing a brown belt with his black jeans. Huo Daofu is great at combining warm and cool, formal and casual, in a single look. 

Look at this dapper bitch. Slaying this hard has got to be against his Hippocratic oath.

This jacket-free look is combined with hip posture so provocative that it sends Wu Xie into a hasty search for the last scraps of his heteronormative assumptions. Xiao Bai does her best to help.

Look 63

The beards. 

OP's family of origin is full of hairy visigoths, so Pangzi's beard is a style I've encountered before, alas. We call this a [US] Civil War beard. This one is terrible and lopsided, but at least it covers a lot of Pangzi’s face.

Wu Xie’s fake facial hair isn't terrible, but isn't great. You can tell it’s fake because everything about Zhu Yilong is inherently lovely, and this isn’t. 

Also, it's a ridiculous idea for a disguise. Wu Xie's close-trimmed chin patch and mustache are nice style, very typical for a Chinese dude. They let Wu Xie’s lovely facial structure continue to do its thing while they just provide a bit of an accent. But this is a problem, because they don't change his appearance in any meaningful way; his cheekbones are still visible from orbit. 

He’s wearing this facial hair and cap with the same vest he wore earlier to practice slingshot. This time he's accessorizing with a simple tan jacket, with an interesting buttonhole detail... 

...and with an attractive human IV stand.

Doctor doctor, give me the news, I've got a bad case of loving you you loving me.

Look 64

This look belongs to the man that Jia Kezale’s wife has replaced him with. We have to infer his look based on his shoes, and that he is presumably in the same league as the extremely hot Jia Kezale. 

Based on these shoes, which are very nice, if a little weathered, Huarache-style loafers, this other man in her life also presumably wears linen trousers and a guayabera shirt. 

*mentally pictures this person* 

ok, I guess I don't blame her. 

[Image, and shirts, from cubavera dot com]

Look 65

After having his IV fluids, Wu Xie goes for a nighttime motorbike ride, because he apparently needs to go way up on a hill to see that the hotel he’s staying in is circular.

So, what is with the Ultraman motorcycle helmet? Does it have any padding or insulation at all? Why doesn’t it cover more than 40 percent of his head and face?

And shouldn't it have a chin strap?  How does it stay on in a crash?  I mean yes I know this is a show with sentient crustaceans...yeah, never mind. I’m sure that’s a super effective helmet. 

Once the rain starts, his mustache and beard look better. Still not great, but better. Here he looks like he’s cosplaying as Zhou Yunlan.

Now he’s wet and lying on the ground because...oh, hell if I remember. Just look at him, poor moist snookums. He needs a blankie and a hot tea and a hurt-comfort fic about him and his doctor. 

This look gives the newest members of the polycule an opportunity to demonstrate their devotion, as they haul him off the motorcycle and over to a wall, and then continue to stand in the rain, for some reason, instead of going indoors. 

I gotta say, when a producer decides to pour water on Zhu Yilong, they  commit to it.

Speaking of commitment, here’s Huo Daofu holding his hand up over Wu Xie’s face like a tiny umbrella. 

Bonus 1

Look at the yellow duffle coat on that kid. She looks beautiful and classic, and the mustard yellow color just pops so nicely in this scene. 

The mustard yellow also visually marks her allegiance to gold-dragon-wearing Xue Wu. 

Bonus 2

This look is Wu Xie’s antique-scheming outfit, but now he is wearing the Sunglasses of Manpain. They belong to Pangzi, but Wu Xie is wearing them while he waits for Pangzi to collect his angst from the morgue.

These sunglasses are good to wear while contemplating the fact that, despite the many differences in narrative tropes between Chinese and Western media, the one where a female character is hurt and/or dies merely to further a male character's emotional development remains a constant.

That said, this is a nice small signifier of their relationship, as he puts these glasses on Pangzi, allowing him to hide his feelings, while hugging him, allowing him to express his feelings.

[moral-turpitudes]

Swan Lake:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: This idea came to me at like 3 am and idk why, it’s totally not canon or whatever but it was fun to write. I also don’t know anything about ballet so don’t come for my neck lol. 

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Slight Mentions of/Implied Physical and Emotional Abuse, Descriptions of Death/Fighting etc.

Word Count: 3,977

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

+ Jack Timmons (OC, albeit a shitty one)

Requested: No

Summary: After constant threats of losing her position in a prominent ballet company, Y/N feels trapped in her circumstances. That is until an infamous blue-eyed gangster stumbles upon her one night, helping her leave her past behind, because sometimes that’s the best thing you can do.

“One, two, three. One, two, three.” Y/N counted to herself as she rehearsed in the quiet concert hall. Her nerves still a mess as the ear-splitting voice of her department head played on a loop in her mind. His harsh words stinging as she continued on.

With every leap and pirouette, her toes and tired muscles screamed to be free from their routine binds that held them together. Her corset digging into her skin, the paper thin pantyhose ripping on her knees from a nasty fall, and her feet cracking and bleeding with each new pair of ballet slippers she broke-in. On nights like this, she often questioned what she was doing this for. Was it for glory? For money? For distraction? It seemed only time could tell.

Unbeknownst to her, a man looked on from the dark entrance. A cigarette in hand as he observed her movements. His eyes alert as he’d heard a man yelling moments before.

Smoke escaped his lips as he watched in silence. The only music coming from inside the woman’s head, her body moving in strict motions to the beat she’d memorized from the orchestra that would usually play during shows. Her instructors voices in her head, threatening to fire her if she didn’t do better.

She never thought that something that brought her so much joy could bring her so much pain, but that seemed to be how things went in life, at least for her.

As she ended her dance, she sat on the cold stage, untying the stiff slippers and wincing as the fabric clung to her bloodied feet. No matter the cloth she put around them, she always found cuts and blisters ambushing her skin. This was the price she paid for perfection. Dancing was her “thing.” Her one gift to the world. The one thing that she’d always have, that no one could ever take away from her.

But with tear filled eyes she looked up at the spotlight beaming down on her, the makeup that was once well kept, slowly being washed away by the tears rushing down her cheeks.

As she ripped her gaze from the blinding light, she thought she felt eyes on her. Feverishly blinking the colorful spots on her vision away as she looked out into the empty seats, where a set of blue eyes stared back, their owner stoic and unmoving.

“Hello?” She asked, her heart racing slightly as she painstakingly walked off the stage and down the middle isle towards the man. Trying her best to wipe her tears away.

“Sorry to startle you miss. Just observing.” He said gruffly, cigarette smoke escaping his lips.

“Why are you here...? What’s your name...? Who do you work for...?” She asked in a barrage of questions, her nerves frazzled as she stood before him.

His blue eyes pierced hers as he took in the state of her. Elegantly hiding the pain behind a powder pink façade.

“I stopped in while on business and I heard yelling.” He said, adjusting his peaked cap, the razor blades glinting off the dull light from outside the theater.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized what gang he was a part of. Remembering talk around the city that they were moving in on London. Making threats and crashing party halls more often than not.

“Everything’s fine, sir.” She said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“You don’t look fine.” He said.

“You haven’t answered my questions, sir.” She said, deflecting his comments and looking at him skeptically. With a sigh, and a long drag from his cigarette, he spoke.

“My name is Thomas, Thomas Shelby. But you can call me Tommy if you like...” He said walking towards her. Her heart racing slightly as she stood in place.

“...and I’m a man who does bad things. But don’t worry love, I have no bad business with you.” He said, gradually walking towards door.

“Wait....” She said, looking around the empty theater nervously as he stopped in his tracks.

“Why exactly were you watching me?” She asked, walking to him.

He sighed as the cigarette burnt down to the last little bit, ending with him throwing it on the tiled floor and stomping it out.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright....and then I saw you dancing to no music. It intrigued me.” He said flatly.

“How so?” She said, crossing her arms at the infamous gang leader.

“Because I can hear it too.” He said.

“You memorized the song? How? You haven’t seen the show.” She said, walking down the stairs with the mysterious man.

“My mother used to play it at home and she’d dance, quite like you. I recognized the routine.” He said, standing near the exit. The streets bustling with people under the moonlit sky.

“You don’t look like someone who listens to music. Do you dance?” She asked, beguiled by the rather handsome blinder.

“I liked a lot of things before the war. Dancing was one of them. But now?.....No.” he said shaking his head slightly as he continued.

“Sometimes life has a way of taking things from us.” He said softly, lighting another cigarette as he stood before her.

“That it does.” She said, glancing at her tired hands as he observed her once more, how she stood and how her hair fell limply around her face, framing it ever so gently.

“I’m probably overstepping my bounds...Tommy. But uh, if you’re ever in need of dancing lessons...I can help. Free of charge.” She said, the thought escaping her lips on a whim. Her mind racing with wanting to dance anywhere but there in that dreadful theater.

“Free of charge aye? Do you make a lot at these shows?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“No. I’m actually on my way out. Was almost fired for the last show. I wasn’t good enough.” She said looking down.

“That’s a shame. I thought you did great.” He said.

“Tell that to the department head. I’m tired of ruining my body for something that doesn’t pay. I’d rather do it for fun. At least then life might be worth living.” She said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pent up feelings slowly trickling out as the minutes passed.

“What do you do for fun, Tommy?” She asked, changing the subject.

He stood in thought, never really taking into account anything besides the noise in his head or the ache in his heart. Never giving himself the time for anything reminiscent of fun.

“I uh, work with horses I guess.” He said.

She nodded and sat in a chair near the exit, wincing and fiddling with the tulle of her tutu.

“So what do you say? Dancing or no?” She asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.

“I’ll accept your offer, on two conditions.” He said.

“Alright, what are your conditions oh infamous Mr. Shelby?” She asked, seeing a small smirk on his face. One that seemed to be uncomfortable, like it had been hidden for years.

“That you give me the name of your department head, and let me employ you.” He said bluntly.

“I’m not a killer, I’m just a dancer.” She said, looking down at her wrists. Bruises forming from many routines throughout the week and from her vile department head.

“You won’t deal with that kind of business. But I’d like to pay you. I can see that you work hard for what you want.” He said sitting next to her.

“You want me to dance for you? What like at some whore house?” She scoffed.

“No. You can dance for fun or teach or whatever it is you want to do. But a job with me, in my shop, can bring you the money you’re looking for. You won’t have to beat yourself up anymore.” He said, noticing the bruising hand prints around her wrists.

“I’ll think about it.” She said quietly, getting up and stretching out her arms, her muscles aching at the movement. Thomas headed towards the door abruptly, not wanting to keep her any longer considering he’d given orders to his brothers a while ago.

“Hey...” She said, stopping him.

“Mhmm?” He mumbled, lighting another cigarette.

“His name is Mr. Timmons. Jack Timmons. I hope you find him.” She said giving him a small, hurting smile before heading back towards the theater.

“Oh and miss?” He called back, making her turn around.

“Yes?”

“I never got your name.” He said.

“It’s Y/N...Y/N Y/L/N.” she said. Thomas nodded and reluctantly turned around, walking slowly into the night the next man on his hit list already buzzing through his mind.

As he stepped onto the cold London streets, he saw his brothers drinking and waiting by the car. Their faces covered in smoke-residue from their mission.

“Oi! What the fuck took you so long aye? We torched the bar down the road so we need to go.” Arthur said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey he’d stolen.

“I was doing a bit of legitimate business. Did you lot get the money?” He asked, revving the engine and peeling out onto the cold, damp roads towards Small Heath.

“Yeah. Got the whole thing. They won’t mess with us again. What kind of business were you doing in a fucking theater?” Arthur asked.

“Probably fucking one of the dancers.” John said, the toothpick dangling precariously on the edge of his mouth.

“I saw people leaving the show and decided to go there to clean off from our last raid. And I heard a man yelling at some woman there. He’s uh, been a bit of a problem but I can’t tell by how much just yet. He’s been working the woman to death for little pay...so I offered her a spot here.” He said.

“Why are you so caught up on the woman? What, is she gonna dance around the shop all day?” John asked, earning a chuckle from a drunken Arthur.

“I’m thinking she’d make a good assistant. I watched her after he left. She was the only one there, working on the same routine for an hour straight. Was bleeding by the time she was done.” He said.

“Well besides the woman, what are you wanting to do with the man aye? We’ve caused enough trouble here so far.” John said.

“I have a feeling this man is abusing the whole company or at least the woman I spoke to. She’s miserable, you can see it in her eyes. I only saw eyes like that in the trenches.” He said quietly, looking out at the sky through the thin windshield.

Over the next few days, it seemed her plight only grew as the dancers rehearsed, their instructors criticizing more than helping them as they moved to the beat. Y/N’s eyes fearful as their department head entered the room. The music stopping as they all sat on the stage as instructed.

Behind the stage, Thomas watched silently as the instructor eyed the women. The mans eyes only seeing money and fame instead of them as people. But his gaze seemed reserved for Y/N especially.

She was bruised from the repeated practice, the falls, and from the mans calloused hands that beat her beyond the theater walls. Threatening to fire her if she didn’t improve. Claiming he was “trying to save the company’s image.” Telling her she’d be working the streets in no time if she failed again.

Even though she tried her best, often putting in more work than her peers, it still wasn’t enough for Mr. Timmons and his dreadful company. The only thing getting her by was knowing that after the big show, things would settle down, knowing he’d go back to just yelling at her and occasionally at the others, instead of talking with his fists. But the pay remained the same, barely keeping a roof over her head throughout the years.

“Y/N, I’ve seen your performances these past few weeks and they’re all the same. The turns are too loose, your footing is off, and you’re out of step with the others. I don’t see why you can’t do better.” He said loudly as she stared him down. White-hot tears brimmed in her eyes as her face heated up in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. None the wiser to the blinder who’d watched it all unfold.

“Meet me backstage after this will ya? We have to discuss some matters over your position here.” He said, walking to the next girl and nodding his head. He moved on from each person giving small snide remarks, but they were nothing compared to what she’d gotten, and it filled her with rage. With a sigh, she wiped her tears and stood up. Decided then and there that she’d walk out. To make a scene like she’d dreamt to during the 5 years she’d worked there.

“Mr. Timmons...the only thing you’ll be doing backstage is shoving these up your ass.” She said, chucking the bloodied ballet slippers at him before exiting the stage and going to her dressing room, locking the door.

Thomas watched silently until Mr. Timmons excused the rest of them, leaving only him and the poor excuse for a man in the dimly lit area back stage.

As the man walked with a master key towards Y/N’s dressing room, Thomas quickly came up behind him. Hitting him in the back of the head with his gun and wrestling him to the floor. The man screaming through a bloodied mouth as he landed punch after punch to his face. Thomas soon removing his cap and slicing the mans eyes, blinding him instantly before shooting him.

Y/N watched from the doorway, dressed from head to toe in her normal clothes she’d came in with. Her eyes red and swollen from crying and her body aching from the mornings work.

She stood there silently, the sight of the man who tormented her making her smile slightly as she realized she was free of him.

“Y/N....” Thomas said, wiping the blood from his face as best he could as he stood up from the mans limp body.

“Thank you.” She said, sniffling a bit as she kept her tears at bay this time. Walking quickly out the door to the outside of the building, the cars whizzing by as the cold wind crept through her clothes.

Thomas quickly draped a nearby blanket over Timmons’ body, dragging it to the dressing room. But before leaving he retrieved the master key from his limp hand, locking the dead man inside as he cleaned up the mess from his handy-work.

As he looked in the bathroom mirror minutes later, he could see the blood on his skin, the metallic smell barely phasing him as he washed it down the drain. After cleaning up, he headed out the door, finding Y/N sitting on the pavement smoking a cigarette.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, sitting by her and lighting his own, his hands bleeding slightly from the blows to Timmons’ face.

“Why not.” She said, fiddling with a pink ribbon in her hands that once kept her hair tightly in place.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, sighing as he looked out at the mid afternoon sky. The city bustling around them.

“It’s alright. I’ve wanted that to happen for 5 years. Don’t worry though, after knowing him, nothing really scares me.” She said with a small smile, relief finally hitting her as she realized she’d probably never have to face the man again.

“He’s dead though right? Like you made sure he’s never coming back?” She asked, her eyes still nervously scanning the roads out of habit as the doubt crept in.

“He’s never coming back. I’m burying him tonight.” He said.

“Make sure it’s deep.” She said, the bruises on her wrists more prominent in the daylight.

“Always do.” He said looking at her wrists with a clenched jaw. Knowing full well Timmons was behind it.

“I’ve uh, thought about your offer by the way.” She said looking down at the ribbon.

“You have aye?” He asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. Her voice bringing him out of his thoughts a bit.

“Yeah. I’d like to try it out, if you’d still want me there. I don’t know what a ballerina could offer the company but, it beats where I was.” She said, cringing internally at all the painful memories which unfortunately often overshadowed the good ones.

“I’ve seen you work hard so far, so I figured making you my assistant would be a good position. You’ll come in at 8, and leave by 6 on most days.” He said.

“Most days? What happens on the other days?” She asked.

“On those days you keep busy so you don’t think about how or if we’ll return. You’ll help keep the shop in line along with my aunt Polly until one of us walks through the door. For your safety.” He said.

“Do all the assistants and secretaries work that late?” She asked.

“Only on those nights they do.” He said.

“Alright. May I ask one question?” She said.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, blowing smoke from his lips. He stared at her while she thought over her words, her eyes not as miserable as before.

It made him feel better knowing that even though he couldn’t save the men in the trenches, he could at least save her. Someone who shared their same eyes, their same exhaustion, their same fear of not knowing what was next.

“Why me? You could hire anyone else. Any other woman for that matter. But you chose me...” She said, putting her cigarette out on the damp dirt road.

Thomas sighed for a moment, not wanting to tell her he couldn’t help but fall for a beautiful woman even though they’d just met. No matter her profession, he didn’t expect a ballet dancer to steal his heart so quickly and effortlessly.

“I could see you were different.” He said.

“How so?” She asked, his answer not enough as she looked into his eyes. They were like looking into the ocean, threatening to pull her under.

“When I came in after doing some business and saw you there practicing, you intrigued me. You were dancing with no music, but still trying no matter what happened.” He said.

“You saw me fall aye?” She said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but I also saw what you did after....It’s always about what someone does after the fall, that makes a person who they are. I guess I chose you because you didn’t give up.” He said.

“And I thought it was because I was wearing a pretty pink ballet costume.” She said, smirking.

“That might also be a reason.” He said with a smirk. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time more quietly.

“For the record Y/N, I truly don’t see why the others treated you like they did....But I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said.

“A man like you making promises? That’s a bold move.” She said, her heart racing as she held his hand gently, nervous to touch someone in a way that wasn’t done in self defense.

“I’m a bold man.” He said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Oh really?” She said with a smirk.

“I can show you.” He said, leaning towards her as she did the same. She couldn’t help but feel differently towards him. He didn’t make her feel scared or on-edge like so many people before her. Instead oddly enough, the dashing blinder made her feel safe.

It was in that moment that he too realized he hadn’t felt this way in a while, since before the war. The only comfort he’d ever found previously was at the bottom of a bottle or beneath the sheets in a brothel. The feelings felt out of place, the noise from the war competing with the song in his head, the same one from her shows. The same one from years ago at home.

With a calloused hand, he caressed her cheek, looking into her as eyes as the sun shined into them. Their color illuminated by its rays as he brought her lips to his, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt her relax into the kiss instead of pulling away.

“So...when do I start?” She asked after he broke the kiss, her eyes trailing to his lips.

“Tomorrow. I can pick you up.” He said.

“Won’t you be tired from burying Mr. Timmons? I can drive myself.” She said.

“It’s not my first time burying someone love. I’ll swing by in the morning.” He said, getting up.

“Alright...see you then.” She said, a genuine grin forming on her face for what felt like the first time in years as she watched him head off towards his car.

Over the next few weeks, she became acquainted with everyone in the shop. Polly taking a special liking to her as she loved dancing as well.

“You’ll never catch me dancing ballet. Maybe a waltz but never ballet.” She said one morning.

“I can teach you, it’ll do you some good. Keep you strong.” Y/N said, thinking about how she’d get by with teaching in her cramped apartment.

“Tommy taking classes from you yet?” She asked with a smirk.

“God no. I think he only said that to get me working for him.” She said, thinking back to his first deal with her.

“What are you two talking about aye? We have work to do.” Tommy said, walking into his office where they sat in his chairs nonchalantly.

“Pol was just asking me if I’d taught you to dance yet. You did say you used to...but there would be no ballet of course.” She said, smirking at him as she blew smoke from her lips.

“Well, I have business at the races soon so I guess you’ll have to teach me. Especially since I’ll need someone to accompany me.” He said.

“I never thought you’d ask. What shall I wear?” She asked.

“Something red.” He said, giving her a peck on the cheek before heading out the door.

Their banter carried on like this months after her employment. The only thing different though was where she stayed. Everyone knew he’d had the hots for the woman as soon as he laid eyes on her in the theater. John joking that going to London was the best decision Tommy had ever made. Seeing as she helped him find himself again even if it was just in simple ways. From the nights spent keeping the sounds of the shovels at bay, to the weekends spent helping him learn a few dances. They both healed each other with each step. He never thought he would enjoy dancing or even something as simple as sleeping ever again, but she helped him and he helped her, and he felt the only way to pay her back was to help her still live out her dreams. Eventually converting one of their many rooms into a dance studio, where she’d help teach children on the side, without mean words and harsh fists beating her down.

By this time, she finally knew what she was dancing for, or more so who. And it pleased Thomas to see the life finally return to her eyes as she did so. Knowing that one of the best decisions she made was to dance for herself. Even if it didn’t garner any grand applause, she knew she had people who cared, and who saw the value in what she did, considering it was her gift to the world after all. Even if it was the gangly Shelby family as her audience, she knew it was better than any theater.

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[penwieldingdreamer]

First Meetings

So, now that I have been stuck at home due to my mother's positive Covid test and watching The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings for 6 days straight, inspiration struck again, thank god 🙏😅 The new center of this -maybe- series will be Lee Pace. Of course this is only a fantasy and everything only came from my imagination but with a pinch of real events happening, still it's going to be in an alternative universe.

Thanks for being my beta @fortheloveoffanfic

Hope you guys will like it. Let me know what you thought and if you like to be tagged in upcoming drabbles I have palned and will hopefully be able to continue now again.

Summary: You work as part of the Mae-Up and Hair Crew on set of the Hobbit Trilogy, where you meet many interesting people, but one has gotten more of your attention than you would have thought.

Warnings: none, except for a very long drabble 😅

Words: 1722

You had been part of the crew ever since Peter Jackson had started working on the Hobbit trilogy in 2011 and met everyone that had been essential to the movies on and off screen. Apparently Fran had seen your work first hand when you were at a competition for make - up artists and she was impressed by the end results. You hadn't won any of the prizes but you were only one against one hundred others and yet she wanted you to be part of the second historic movie trilogy PJ did in his life.

The first people you had met were of course the dwarves and Martin who was Bilbo in the movie. They all were fun to be around, especially Dean and Aiden, as well as James Nesbitt who would always greet you with jokes or a song, giving you something to look forward to during those nearly endless days of filming.

And then, at the ending of shooting the first movie of the trilogy Philippa came up to you, a very tall man following behind her. You had just gotten done with James' make-up and wanted some fresh air, with all the fumes inside the trailer you sometimes thought you might get sick, so you sat outside, watching the pair walk over to you.

"Y/N," she said in greeting, a smile breaking out on her face. "May I introduce you to our newest cast members. Lee is going to be Elvenking Thranduil and he's in need of your service." Pippa, as you called her, had always had a way with people and she was next to Fran and Pete the only one of your bosses you could be yourself with and even call family away from your own. In your former jobs you had only been the one for the make-up, the one being ordered around and not even been able to give an opinion to change should something not look right on the person. But here, you were part of the crew and they would listen to you.

"It's nice to meet you." You said, holding out your hand for the actor to shake. With a smile in return he grabbed it and you had to concentrate not to let your reaction show on your face. Holy shit, his hands were huge compared to your smaller ones.

Only your boss's voice pulled you back to the task at hand. "So, Lee needs to get into his wig and ears and we'd like to try the crowns with the wardrobe department. Let's say meeting in an hour and a half over at costumes?"

"Oh, uh, sure." you mumbled, hastily disentangling your hand from his. "I'll send him right over when I'm done."

Pippa grinned at you. "Why don't you come over, too? We wouldn't want there to be a repeat of Elrond's circlet like the last time."

A soft sigh escaped your lips, nodding your head you stepped up onto the small stairs outside the trailer. "I'll bring him over then and make sure the wig will be in one piece once you guys are done."

"Great, I'll see you guys later!" she said, clapping her hands and walking off, leaving you with the giant in human form standing in front of you.

Once he made sure she was out of ear shot, Lee turned back to you, a smile plastered onto his face. "Do I want to know what happened to that wig?"

"I don't think you want to know, it was a mess and the guys making the wigs were so angry because the circlet Hugo was wearing in the fitting got caught on the strands and ripped it in half. They had to do it all over again."

Nodding his head, the actor entered the trailer behind her. You told him to take the empty chair next to Richard, who was getting ready for his scenes and he took the time to watch you flit around in your workplace. Everything was chaotic and still in order all the same. When you had come back to your place, the prosthetic ears and wig in hand, Lee grinned at you, his dark blue eyes shining with mirth. "Well, we wouldn't want another repeat for the King of Woodland Elves."

"At least you're already in character, then." Richard mumbled next to him with a laugh trying not to interrupt the woman doing his make-up for the day, listening to the words leaving his co-stars mouth.

Watching the actor, who was Thorin in the movie series, he laughed. "I just need to get my crown and wardrobe and I'll be good to go, everything else is already perfect."

Ruckus laughter floated through the trailer and you couldn't help but admire the shape of his face. Before you could stop yourself, you had already mumbled a 'yes, perfect' and Lee's eyes turned back to you. You felt the blush creeping over your face, swiftly grabbing a comb and a few clips to prepare his own hair for the wig cap you were going to be putting on under. All had seen the flush spread out on your skin and Martin who was getting up from his chair next to you send you wink. That was a great way to make a first impression on the day of meeting a new part of the movie series. You were scolding yourself inside, making sure to only talk to Lee when he was asking something, otherwise keeping your mouth shut.

"Okay let's see the green coat again with the silver overcoat. Y/N, be a dear and bring me that one please." Ann Maskrey, one of the costume designers asked you, while Pete and Pippa watched Lee getting dressed in the green coat. You walked over to the wardrobe and took the first silver coat. "No, not that one, the one with the deep orange silk on the inside." So you took the correct one on the second try and held it out for Lee to put on. He grinned down at you, pulling the coat over his shoulders and straightening himself. It would be easier if he wasn't such a giant, but he was a handsome giant.

"Right then, that looks good. Let's try it with the smaller branch crown."

You sighed, hoping there wasn't going to be another wig fiasco when you helped putting the crown on. Weta had done an amazing job designing all the pieces for the movies, for all movies they worked on, but sometimes these things were a bitch to work with. Your comb and pins at the ready, he sat down on the chair, pulling the knee-high boots on over the leggings he wore underneath.

"I'm going to be gentle but if I should hurt you with the pin please let me know." you told him, lightly pinning the crown to the wig so it wouldn't fall off.

Lee had closed his eyes, hiding the bright blue contacts he wore for his role. "I can take my fair bit of pain, but if it's intolerable, I'll let you know. So far I can't complain about these gentle hands."

By the time they had taken pictures and you had finally calmed down again so the flush that had started to spread over your face and neck at the close proximity to Lee was controlled again, Ann had asked you to take off one crown and exchange it for the larger branch crown with red leaves.

"I think this is going to be a lot more striking for King Thranduil then the other one."

So you repeated the process, gently combing the wig while Lee sat on the chair, chewing his gum and closing his eyes. He even held the hairpins in his hand because he saw you struggle to get them out of the confines of your little bag. When he moved it closer to you to work with your finger touched his and if you didn't know better there was a tiny spark from that brush of skin.

Finishing up, you grabbed the unused pins from his hand and told him you were done, giving the tall actor a light tap on his shoulder. Just as he walked over to the small area where they viewed him in his costumes, the door opened and Martin and James walked inside.

"Sorry, you guys but we had a small, unfortunate accident." the Irish actor apologized, showing the burst seams on his pants. "We were doing our stunts and well."

Martin grinned, walking over to you and throwing his arm around your shoulders. "We also wanted to see what all the fuss was about that haughty elf king."

Giggling, you looked over at Lee who grinned at his co-stars and repeated the walk he did before.

"Just so you know, if I were a female dwarf, I'd tap that elf ass." James whispered into your left ear, your once controlled blush intensifying again while the blond actor nodded his head enthusiastically.

"He's a perfect elf, you know. Broad shoulder, tall, elegant, striking eyes. The hair." Martin spoke so only you and the dwarf actor could hear.

"The long legs." James added, nodding his head over to the American actor who strutted along the area, having thrown off the overcoat.

"That smouldering look." the Brit continued before you held up your hands.

"Enough, you." You hissed so no one would know what you had been talking about, but you knew they were only trying to rile you up. Yes, Lee was attractive, hell, he was gorgeous and Pippa and Pete did an amazing job casting him, but you knew him for less than a day. He could be a total asshole when he didn't have people to impress for his first day on set. "You guys should get to Lucy or Sam so they can stitch up those holes."

"Well, I'm going to tell you this, one day you'll end up with a guy like that and you'll remember what I told you. You deserve the best in your life, luv." James told you proudly, pulling you closer into a one armed hug. He was brother and father to you in one person and you knew that his words were going to bite you in your ass.

They always did.

Taglist(I wasn't sure who to tag, also who might want to read it, so please let me know if you don't want to see mor of this in your notifications)

@fortheloveoffanfic @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @meetmeinthematinee @omg-imagine @fanficsrusz @eevee-of-rivia @fics-not-tragedies @omgkatinka @fuck-yeah-hope @wholelottatiffy @axshadows​ @a-really-bi-girl @madbaddic7ed @maggiemoo1892 @pinkzsugar @agniavateira @mary-ann84 and everyone who might want to read this.

[waywardimpalawriter]

Could you do a Bucky/Reader fic for 16 on the smut prompts?

The intimacy of shaving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

Bucky Bingo Square: New haircut square

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson

Setting: three months after the end of Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Rating: M (Mature), E (explicit), NSFW, +18 only please

Warnings: fluff, angst, bickering, smut, oral female receiving, yearning, pining, unrequited love, smutty dreams, broken bones, mention of torture, Bucky’s old memories,

Word count: 10,800

Summary: Frustrated with being left behind, worry taking hold after finding out just a fraction of how bad your boys are. Making you start to search your feeling's for both men. Especially with the intimacy of giving Bucky a hair cut and shave. Unexpected emotions surface on all parts.

Notes: Sequel too “My own worse enemy," filling in a bingo square for #buckybingo and also an Anon request asking for smut prompt #16 “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.” Hope you don't mind me adding Sam into the mix sweetie. Also for my head cannon Sam uses Delacroix LA for his base of operation. Wanting to help take care of his family while taking on the mantle of Captain America. Hope you enjoyed doll.

Tag list’s: Are open

@buckybingo

Forever’s: @jedi-mando @chickensarentcheap

Bucky Barnes list: @learisa @eclipses-and-moondust

Story list: @sammyissassy @feelmyroarrrr

Wearing a path from the kitchen to living room ignoring Sarah’s stare, thumb nail damn near nibbled to the bed with how much your chewing the poor abused finger. Cell phone pressed to your ear, listening to Sams deep baritone, “What’d ya mean three places Samuel? How the f-ing hell did you both managed to get so banged up?”

“Explanations will roll out once we touch down Y/N for now know at least he didn’t break his funny bone that’s still none existence,” glancing towards Bucky stretched out over the metal helo bench. Right arm in a sling snug to his body, thick plaster cast covering from mid bicep to mid palm, fingers still visible.

“I heard that and I do to have a sense of humor just not your brand of stupid jokes bird brain,” deep voice unmistakably Bucky’s catching a wobble in the cadence not there when last they spoke.

Swiping a hand over your face wanting to kill them both for leaving you behind. Plans to do just that forming in your mind while snarking, “Remind me again why exactly you chose to leave me behind?”

Staying home you could’ve possibly worked with, the unknown danced on your nerves more than you’d give credit to. Having grown even closer to both men over the last six months, always brushing those pesky feelings and thoughts away that surface during weak moments of worry or sleep.

“To dangerous and I’m not arguing with you on those semantics it’s bad enough cyborg got the shit beaten out of him,” quickly pulling the phone from his ear at the high pitched sound from down the line. Forgetting a moment your attachment to both men, “You finished?”

Low growl in answer, biting off the curses you wish to fling at both Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Don’t worry you’re in for it once you get home. ETA?” Checking the watch strapped to your left wrist, “I’ll come pick y’all up, gotta stop in town for supplies anyway.”

“No worries my trucks at base I’ll get Buck and myself home.” Glancing at his watch, “Landing in about two hours, think you can grab a couple of Miss Bridgette’s pecan pies?”

Too many years working with that man not to know what he likes, “For the shit you and Barnes pulled get your own pie man.” Soft chuckles lets you know Sarah heard you. Eyes locking with her’s for a moment seeing the worry in those warm browns matching as you knew in your own. “Just bring you asses home so Sarah and I can roast them.”

Almost feeling the deep groan from over the phone line, “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing since that’s what I got,” shaking head tips to the side picking up on Sam’s easy breathing and the helo’s engines in the back ground. “Just get home dumbass,” affection in your tone. Ending the call, slipping the cell into your front pocket to flop down into the worn out but still comfortable couch.

“They get hurt?” Anxiety tainting her voice from across the room.

Peeking through your fingers at her, dropping them to your thighs to run the length of denim covered skin, “Don’t know really, Sam sounds fine but a concussion or another type of head injury wouldn’t show it’s self right away. From what I did gather they finished up the mission a little over four hours ago, in flight for the last two.”

“What about Bucky?” Meeting your eyes having confided in her years ago about the crush harbored for a certain metal armed ex-assassin turned Cap’s left hand man. Always leaving out the other part of your secret crush. “Speaking of which you ever gonna tell them how you feel?”

“Busting chops about that again Sarah?” Exasperated sigh marches passed barely parted lips, “Something’s broke in three places that’s all Sam ‘Stubborn ass’ Wilson would say. Just not which one of them or what body part exactly.” Firmly ignoring her last question and not picking up on the fact she said them instead of him. To stand hands to hips, leaning back to stretch and possibly pop your spine. “I’m going to town you wanna come or need anything.”

“And you call Sam stubborn,” head shaking with a fond smile tipping her lips upward. Picking up the subtle shift in your demeanor as relief floods your system with knowing they're coming home at least safe. Having guessed your feelings for her older brother not long ago however, keeping that little tidbit to herself. “I’ll come with, give you company and grief along the way. The boy’s won’t come home till later anyway.”

Eyes roll you reach for the car keys on the coffee table, patting your back pocket to check for wallet and the front for cell phone. “Ready to roll?”

Hour and a half later arms loaded with grocery bags, making sure to hide Miss Bridgette’s pie’s from Sam, you and Sarah set to work putting everything away. Setting to work fixing dinner efficiently dancing around each other like a well oiled machine working together in tandem getting each task done. Back door quietly trying to open, Sam poking his head around the well loved oak wood door. Showing a face littered with cuts, a busted bottom lip and dark shadow of a black eye around his left. But his smile still widens flashing pearly whites at seeing the two of you. Entering, Sam places a large locking suit case and round leather carry case not far from the door.

Soft gasp leave’s Sarah’s lips, quickly moving towards her brother to look him over, “You were ugly before now it’s just worse bro.”

Snort existed through his nose, stepping fully into the house with a limp on his right side, accepting the hug she gives him carefully. “You should see the other guy.”

“I’m the other guy,” voice slightly strained but still light almost playful unlike the Bucky of months ago. Though seeing him coming around Sam, arm cradled close in a black cloth sling. Peeks of plaster noticeable making you groan, head shaking at the very sight of him. Assortment of bruises littered his face, his own busted lip, and a three inch cut circling just above his collarbone. Seeing the storm brewing in your eyes, “No we didn’t fight and Sam didn’t cause these wonderful souvenirs.”

“Stupid ass got captured, wouldn’t listen to my plan…”

“You didn’t have a plan Sam not a logistical one…”

“Oh, so you bulldozing in like a raging bull in a China shop worked so well. Who got capture?” Pressing a finger behind his ear to lift the shell listening for Bucky’s answer. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you. You’re gonna say you right Robo soldier cause that’s the correct answer.”

Exasperated with them both, “Shut it and sit down dinner’s ready. I swear the two of you fight worse than Cass and AJ.” Authority ringing through Sarah’s tone cutting eyes at both men.

“Oh sweetheart Cass and AJ have nothing on these two bone heads, more maturity in their little bodies than both of them put together.” Rubbing your temples trying to fend off the building migraine behind your eyes. “Listening to constant bickering I wanna put them in a ‘Get along shirt.'”

Scowl in place while giving them a full once over. Cataloguing the damage you could see and wondering about that which you couldn’t. Noticing the length of Bucky’s hair almost a shaggy just falling a little over his ears and brushing the collar of the black t-shirt he’s wearing. Full beard dusting his cheeks and chin reminding you of those days long gone back in Wakanda. In contrast to Sam’s neatly kept mustache and goatee, close cropped haircut smartly framing his handsome face. Looking much like the day he and Bucky left three months ago on their reconnaissance mission. Knowing better as looks deceive and clothes cover up places eyes can’t see without stripping them naked. The very thought peeking interest but pushing those thoughts back with a frown. Of course it doesn’t stop you from wanting to hug them both mindful of injures unseen that brings a scowl to your features.

“You wouldn’t?” Traces of fear slicing through those deep russet browns. “I thought you loved me Y/N?”

Speaking over Sam, “What’s a ‘Get along’ shirt?”

Caught between wanting to roll her eyes and chuckle, “It’s a big shirt we’d put the two of you in till ya stop bickering like children and actually get along.” Dishing up dinner, Sarah looks towards both men. Trying hard not to burst out laughing at the sour look on Sam’s face nor the still slightly confused one on Bucky’s.

“I see smoke coming from his ears,” snarky quip receiving a back handing smack to his arm.

Bowel’s placed at the table, “Aim for the head next time Sar.” Taking the seat on Sam’s right offering him a cheekily smile, “Might actually knock the few brain cells he has left around and jump start the hamster running the wheel.”

“You both wound me,” clutching his chest dramatically. “With friends and family like this who can you trust.”

“Dramatic’s must come with handling the shield,” cerulean eyes rolling edged with teasing tone. Glancing towards Sam first then you beside him, going to explain for Sarah’s benefit. “Steve could put on some high melodrama back in the day. Much like Samuel here.” Scratching at his chin with vibranium fingers, a low hiss only you catch sounds when the plates catch the little hairs.

Scoffing, “Only Sarah calls me that first off, second look who’s talking Mr. Bionic Staring machine scaring off everyone who comes within two feet. Dramatics run through your veins just as well. ”

“Children,” both women exclaim hands coming down to slam the table at the same. Before time digging into dinner as the back door opens with Cass and AJ storming inside with excited chatter upon seeing both Sam and Bucky.

Each asking about what happened, how’d the mission go and why exactly Bucky’s sporting a sling and cast. All questions peeking the interested of both women with brows raised and narrowed eyes.

“Settle in first and eat dinner,” Sam intones wanting to keep most of what happened from his family. “For the most part the mission went successful.”

Very unladylike snort leaves your nose hidden behind a glass of sweet tea you sip from, “At least you came back in one piece or three in someone’s case.” Eyes narrow even farther on Bucky who has the good graces to look sheepish and divert his eyes.

“But the super serum why didn’t it help like that,” AJ snapped his little fingers for emphasis on the quickness the serum should work or so he thinks.

“Doesn’t quiet work that way AJ,” Bucky starts running a hand through his longer than usual hair. Giving a short frustrated tug before returning to the topic at hand. “Yeah the serum helps speed up the healing process it’s not instantaneous and,” pausing to side eye you not wanting to admit there’s more injures than just his arm.

Scowl returning having a feeling you know why he’s paused in explaining, “Takes longer to heal when multiple injures are involved.”

Dinner finishes with other questions, skirting the full truth about the mission, discussing the coming week with work and school. Sam’s boyish smile appears when Sarah brings out the pie, cutting out slices to pass around with Reddi-whip, coffee for the adults, milk for the kids. Silence settles for a moment the enjoyment of pie more important to savor and only once done do you raise to start cleaning up.

“I’ll,” shooting Sarah a look with a shake of your head.

“You got paperwork to catch up on babe I’ve got this, besides Sam volunteered to help. Didn’t you Sam?” Shooting a look his way, clearly speaking volumes if the answer comes back no.

Brow arched in question but thought better then to ask, though he flips the script on you, “Of course, Bucky volunteer’s.” Quickly moving away from the hand threatening to land a hard punch to his right thigh. Almost toppling to the floor in his hast to move Sam tweaked his hip a twinge of pain slicing through his features.

“Serves you right Wilson,” thought a slice of regret skates across your thoughts. Head shaking you stand gathering plates as the boys excuse themselves to play video games.

“Homework first or I’m taking those games away,” Sarah yells after them looking in your direction for a second. “You got these two?” Pointing at each of them in turn with her own frown dropping her lips downward.

“Sadly yes,” exasperation clearly written in the rigidness of you stance and narrowing to slits of your eyes. “Blissfully unaware or want to know everything?”

“Unaware I’m just happy their back whole,” nodding Sarah takes her leave, heading for the home office.

Times flown, six months in fact since Karli’s death and Sam taking over the mantle of Captain America. Going above and beyond to change how the worlds become and see’s the shield. Using Delacroix as home base to keep himself grounded and around for his family. Surprisingly enough including you and Bucky the house feels a touch over crowded but wouldn’t want things any different.

“Care to explain what that means?” Limping with hands full towards the sink, Sam places his arm load down watching you move around the kitchen. Putting leftovers up, setting to work on the dishes, the familiarity you exude warms a place in Sam’s heart. Always pushing those thoughts from his mind, your his best friend and wouldn’t see him in any other way. Especially with your heart firmly filled with Bucky.

Giving your back to both men and only acknowledging their presence when Bucky comes over with a bowel. “Thanks,” leaves your lips with a nod.

“We’re sorry for leaving you behind Y/N, but Sam and I agreed things were to dangerous neither of us wanted you to get hurt,” trying to reason Bucky leans his back against the counter beside you. Tugging once again at his too long hair that gets slightly tangled in the plates of his fingers.

“You actually agreed on something?” Catching his actions, your head shakes grabbing for the towel to dry soapy hands and help with his dilemma. “Instead you both come back looking like train wreck’s all beaten, broken and bruised. With a busted arm,” finished with untangling his fingers to point at his arm. Whirling around to assess Sam who’s trying not to put weight on his right leg, “Banged up hip and God know what else internally. Neither one of you are spring chickens for heaven’s sake.”

“Don’t know what your talking about Y/N? I’m not a day over twenty-five,” taking an aim to make you smile and ease the tension in your shoulders. Frown appearing when your countenance doesn’t change but deepens, “Talk to the resident Centurion who got his ass captured and tortured for over a week.”

Low growl leaves your lips pursed together in a grim line, “Do either of you think about the consequences of your actions? Of what’ll happen without either of you in this God forsaking world?” Tossing your hands up and turning back to dish washing, something to keep from chocking the life outta the two of them, or spilling your inner most thoughts. Afraid to loose either man the very thought making your heart clinch painfully in your chest, breathing picking up as tears gloss over your eyes. Plates clang loudly, forcefully slamming them into the drying rack making both men wince at your actions.

“Y/N,” coming up behind you large warm hands carefully rest on tense shoulders. Aware of your feelings for a certain cyborg the thought a little bitter to take but Sam resigns himself to the role of best friend. “We’re sorry really,” taking a breath and clearing his throat wanting to make amends and explain. “We thought, planned, things just…”

“Went to shit around us, it’s not like Sam or I wanted to get the crap beating out of us doll it just,” shrugging vibranium hand coming to rest on your shoulder beside Sam’s. “Got complicated.”

Taking a deep breath drawing in the scents of Sam’s citrus and cider wood cologne you couldn’t put your finger on naming, mixing with Bucky’s old world sandalwood base cologne of 4711. Eyes close for a moment blinking back the tears, and to gather thoughts, righting them in an order that makes sense. Trying to keep out the feelings currently jumbling up your brain. “I know,” body sags back against Sam’s strong chest while unconsciously leaning towards Bucky’s hand. “Neither of you will do that shit again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Not if things go dark side like this time, we’re not putting you in harms way,” feeling you stiffen Sam steps back, Bucky’s hand drops back to his side when you whirl on the man behind you. Stance ridge and firm, Sam crosses his arms adding his own glare and not backing down. “My decision is final on the matter and no amount of arguing will change that.”

Understanding Sam’s position, however the thought of staying behind, waiting to find out if… no you push those thoughts aside. “Mine, that’s who makes the choice not either of you,” heat of annoyance flaring to life as you look between the two men. “Knowing what I signed up for, choose to stick around and help put this broken blue marble we call home back together. I won’t sit out the next mission we clear on that?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, barely audible hiss leaves Bucky’s lips at having hair yanked out by the roots. Though his voice is steady when asking, “Why did you stick around? Thought once Walker handed over the shield, the Flag smashers agenda crashed and burned you’d skip out on the next train back to normal.” Not that he minded of course, in fact Bucky rather enjoyed your company, reminded him of those first months out of cryo getting to know each other. Plus his questions distracted you from getting an answer that won’t satisfy.

“I have my reasons,” giving a half hearted shrug you turn back to finishing up the dishes not really wanting to explain. Not fully sure yourself why you’ve stuck around though deep down you know it has to do with both men. “Reasons neither of you need to know.”

Sharing a look with Bucky, “Don’t pull that shit with us sweetheart you demand answers now we ask the same in return.”

Sure they still argued like an old married couple but a begrudging understanding has built between the pair, coming to an almost friendship neither would fully admit to. Both wanting to protect the small family friend’s circle patched together like grandma’s old quilt. Tattered, frayed and a few wholes but well loved and always cared for. Eyes landing back on you to watch the forward slump of your shoulders rounded inward along with your chin dropped to your chest.

“I have the two of you house broken,” idea forming to steer the conversation away. “Don’t need that headache on repeat and I wouldn’t leave the two of you bone heads alone to kill each other or drive poor Sarah crazy,” quicker than either can react you’ve scooped up hand fulls of soap bubbles to smash into both their faces. Deflecting the conversation away from having to answer and lightening the mood. Or so you hoped with the playfully murderous looks both men shoot you. Skirting Sam’s grabby hands heading to put the kitchen table between yourself, Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Now boys that’s just all in good fun and your both hurt so I suggest you think about your actions before retaliating.”

Wiping the remains of soapy bubbles from his face, thick fingers making wet tracks over denim to dry hands. Sam edges a little closer intent on trying to snag your arm. That ghosts through his fingers, “For now but remember paybacks a bitch sweetheart.” Bright smile tugs his full lips, head shaking though he knows there’s so much more your hiding from both he and Bucky. One day he’ll crack that secret you hold so dear, for now Sam lets you cling tightly.

Watching him go you turn towards Bucky who’s smirk sets you back a moment. “I don’t think I like that look Barnes,” arms crossed mustering a half glare. “Sam’s right you really can see the smoke rising from your head.”

“Hahaha that jokes getting old,” light hearted quip falling from his lips, eyes raking your form as you near the sink. Catching you looking between finishing the dishes and making sure Bucky’s not going to retaliate. “I come in peace promise besides I’m too old for revenge I’ll leave it to you young whipper snappers,” throwing his voice to sound like an old man.

Laughter rings full and deep from your parted lips, soapy hands gripping the sink to keep from toppling over in mirth. His own chuckle exists on a grin, cerulean eyes taking in how carefree you look. Tension and worry melted away with his well played grandpa joke. Making Bucky wish he got to see you like this more often but then he remembered why he never searched. Why he left you alone and only within the last ten or so months managed to reconnect the missing dots in his life. Sure there’s still blood on his hands he tries to scrub clean with each mission, to make those amends and not just avenge. But truly help people in ways that didn’t require lead or blood.

Still wondering, so he gives voice to those thoughts, “Why didn’t you go back to your life doll?” Feeling he’s perpetuated a grave error in asking the question but a part of him wants. No needed the answer to know why you’d give up a happy life for one of danger and uncertainty with him and Sam.

Sobering, his question hitting you like a ton of cement bricks keeping you from turning to face him. Wincing when another hiss echos around inside your head from your right side. “Tell you what Buck you let me cut that hair and beard of yours I’ll answer your questions.”

“I get you don’t… wait… what?” Not sure he’d heard you right. Pain making a return to fog his brain for the moment as throbbing radiates across his broken clavicle to the dislocated shoulder, dancing along the fractured radius and painfully tingling his fingers. Soft curse exists his lips reminding himself to take Sam’s suggestions next time though he wouldn’t let the other man know. “Don’t happen to have any pain meds do ya doll?”

Eyes narrow, “Which parts did they break?” Holding up a hand to stop him from answering while you head towards your room. Grabbing up the small med kit Sharon gave you months back for times like these. Pausing to scoop up the hair scissors and trimer, along with a shaver and cream, both of which belonging to Sam. “Now you were saying?”

Placing everything on the table, unzipping the medium size unassuming black bag pulling out a small bottle to pop the top and wiggle out two pills. Handing those over to Bucky who just stares at them resting in his metal palm.

“Trying to kill me doll?” Teasing tone to the cadence of his words while popping them into his mouth and excepting the glass of water. Downing in one go and handing it back, “Never did like pills reminds me of Steve.”

Resting a gentle hand on his bad shoulder, “If I tried to kill ya Buck you’d see it coming,” snickering at the wide eyed look he gives you. Sobering with understanding filled eyes that stay locked with his, “I’m sorry it”s not my intentions to bring up the past.” Moving to put the glass down, you stay at the sink looking out over the backyard, orange and reds dancing over the rippling surface of the bayou. Sinking sun creating a cornucopia of color heralding the on coming twilight and the end of another day.

“You didn’t Y/N,” coming to stand next to you watching the golden ball of life giving light slowly sink into the horizon. On the tip of his tongue to speak about Steve, the abandonment he felt acutely with the absence of his best friend. Slowly filled by your present, that of Sam’s and his family. “I guess ‘Till the end of the line’ meant just till he could get back to who he really missed.” Anguish heard loudly through soft spoken words not meant for your ears but once uttered there’s no going back.

Out of your peripheral vision you study Bucky for a moment heart breaking for the man who’s lost so much to then fully face him. His own gaze staying straight ahead staring unseen out the window with tan lace curtains framing the coming twilight. Over head light casting shadows in the hallows and angles of his features, bringing out the bruises highlighting the cuts, making your heart ache for this man in ways you’ve tried to push aside. Ways you didn’t want it to feel in case of rejection but couldn’t help the tightening in your chest nor the want to embrace and hold Bucky close.

“Come on,” without thinking your hand slips into his vibranium palm tugging till he follows and only dropping to scoop up trimmer, combs and scissors before heading out the back door.

For a moment Bucky stood there thankful to Shuri for the ability to feel warmth and the weight of your hand in his vibranium limb. The very thoughts your simple gesture conjures damns his heart making it beat triple time. When your head pops back around the door sweet smile crossing those kissable lips. Bucky has to remind himself you’re off limits friends nothing more and to breath. Your beauty stealing the air from his lungs, making it hard to focus on anything except your present.

Catching the out of focus look in his cerulean eyes mind swirling with questions as to what he’s thinking about. “You gonna stand there taking root or get your silly ass out here,” motioning with a jerk of your head over your shoulder smile still firmly in place. Making sure he’s actually moving before existing to place a stool about middle of the back porch. Patting the hardwood barstool then reaching up to tug on the pull string as light floods the area casting a bright glow.

Transfixed for a moment in the doorway with the peek of skin allowed to his eyes. Your heather grey band shirt riding up teasingly tormenting him. Cursing internally, tongue trapped between indenting teeth to keep the sounds at bay. Till the hard slap of your palm against wooden seat draws his attentions and he robotically takes the seat. Stiffening with the fluttering of a barber’s cape hating to have things around his neck. Only to settle once you have it in place and buttoned reminding him your not there to hurt or torture him. Fingers brushing lightly over the exposed skin of his neck, creating goosebumps to dance across his flesh.

“Not too tight?” Gently running nimble fingers through his hair, blunt nails scratching the scalp. Finding it hard to keep from rubbing into your hands and fighting the urge to purr with each pass. You work the larger knots out carefully, pulling a comb from the back pocket of your jeans to run through his hair. “You with me Buck?”

“Hmm?” Simple noise issues from the back of his throat lost in the tingling sensations your fingers bloom across his body. Wanting to chase the feeling bringing peace to his mind much like the soft cadence your voice takes on with the intimacy surrounding the two of you. Sweet chuckle music to his ears and snaps him back to now, noticing you’ve paused your hands waiting for a response, “Sorry no I’m good.”

“Enjoying yourself Barnes?” Teasingly quipped while adjusting the cape to cover his back. Making sure all his hair lays over the edges and carefully combing out the smaller knots your fingers missed. Secretly enjoying the soft chestnut strands as they curl around your fingers. Massaging his scalp hoping to relax his tense posture when a particularly stubborn knot has you accidentally giving a not so gentle tug. Garnering a low moan from the man in front of you. “Sorry Buck,” working the knot out with a little more care taking the sound as one of pain.

Throat clearing, thankful his crotch is currently covered to not give away the secret he’s concealing. Praying to all the heavens you’ve taken the moan as one of pain instead of pleasure that’s surfing through his veins with a simple hair pull. “Yes, and it’s fine,” words pushed passed lips held taunt to keep from letting any sound out. Searching his mind for a topic to settle on, willing his body to stop reacting to the warmth of yours.

Each brush of fingers sends heat flaring to life along his nerves. Knowing the pain killers don’t worked through his system that quickly. Yet, the throbbing ache once present has diluted to a low annoying thump with the heat of your hands on his cotton covered shoulder. Wanting to lean back into your body but holds himself ridge from doing something stupid like enjoying the moment. Therefore clears his throat, “You’ve got me at your mercy doll ready to answer my questions?”

“Should I worry what you’ll ask?” Moving from behind him to head back into the kitchen. Grabbing the empty spray bottle to fill with warm water and head back out.

Eyes close with the first spritz of water, chin dropping to chest as you work to wet his hair. “Why?”

“Why what?” Knowing what he’s asking, your distracted for a moment putting the spray bottle’s trigger through a belt loop incase its needed once your satisfied with the wetness of his hair. “I’ll need more specifics than just why. Why’s the sky blue? Why’s it so damn hot? So many why questions you gotta stop wasting your breath Buck.”

“Cheeky doll very cheeky you know damn well what I mean,” keeping his head still to prevent you from severing an ear.

Smirking, setting to work on trimming up the top back portion of his head, trying to keep from childishly making faces. “Sure don’t Sarge.”

Groan slipping passed before he’s able to trap and swallow the sound at the off handed use of his military rank. Wondering which deity had it out for his ass today. Cursing the fact he’s let you so close to breath in the flowery scent of your body. Gentle use of those skilled fingers through his hair not making things any better for the growing problem tenting his jeans. Returning to himself when you move to his left shortening the hair over his ear. “Why’d you stay with us? I thought,” remembering those painful words back in Madripoor. “I thought you had a happy life to go back to.”

“Ear hustling Barnes?” Switching sides and glancing down with a raised brow you know he doesn’t see.

Looking up to try and catch your eye your focus on cutting his hair makes the attempt impossible. So he settles on, “Don’t know what you mean doll. Just asking a question,” trying to hold the shiver at bay when your fingers brush over the shell of his ear.

“Since your asking it means you didn’t hear everything Sam and I talked about,” thankful that’s the case or things would get a whole lot complicated. “I lied.”

Head whipping to the side so quickly you fear he’s damaged his neck with the wince taking over his handsome features. “Lied why?”

“Reasons,” ‘Ones I won’t tell you James,’ speaking the last words in your mind, careful probing fingers check for anything popped out. Garnering a hiss of pain when you’ve found the break in his clavicle. “What did you break besides the hamster running your wheel brain?”

Bitting off the curse as pain flared over his right side. Gritting out, “Clavicle, dislocated shoulder, fractured radius, you can see the cuts and bruises so take it a little easy on this old man.”

“How… Why did you get captured?” Worry fights fear both dance with anger marching through your veins as a Thanksgiving Day parade band would down the streets of New York City. The very thought of both your men hurt and so far away from home torn a hole in your heart. Thoughts you try to push away and focus on the job of cutting Bucky’s hair.

Finishing up what you could on the back of his head, Bucky feels you come around to the front. Knees spread to accommodate your body, closing his eyes to keep from staring at your breasts. Licking suddenly dry lips with having you extra close, he tries to gather an answer to your question. “We needed an in so I made a decision.”

“One I’m sure Sam disagreed on,” carding your fingers through the top, snipping pieces checking length. Jealous over how soft his hair feels between your digits. Woodsy pine scent reaching your nose that twitches in pleasure at the fragrance matching what you always thought he’d smell like.

“Yeah well we ran out of time doll. Couldn’t let what remains of LAF get away,” eyes quickly open only to slam shut again with having you still too near for his own good.

Every brush of your fingers, thighs brushing against his with every move, your flowery scent wrapping around his heart to squeeze tight. Breath punched from his lungs when your knee makes slight contact with his erection. Shooting pleasurable fireworks off behind his closed lids. Wishing for your hands on his body, wondering what they’d feel like over bare skin. If you’d shy away from the scars littering his flesh or… he wouldn’t, didn’t need to think about the alternative.

Unsure why he gasped you move from between his legs and look upon his face confused as to his ridge posture eyes held tightly closed. Insecurities rushing through your mind, setting up shop to remind you no man let alone someone as handsome as Bucky would ever want to look at you. Shoving back those thoughts to ask, “You okay Bucky?”

“Fucking fabulous doll,” bitting out the words while trying to reign in the need to grab hold of your hips, bringing you back against him. Wanting to find out if you’d fit as good or better than what he’s imagined during those dream filled nights he doesn’t talk about with anyone. “Finished?” Praying you’ll say yes, the temptation becoming almost unbearable.

Unconvinced by his words but pushes that aside and stepping farther back to round him, grabbing up the trimmer on the way with a numbered comb. “Almost but then I still have your beard to do.”

“Fuck,” low gravely voice intones the single word hoping you’ve not heard and cursing the heaven for this test of his will and desires. In another life Bucky wouldn’t have hesitated to ask you out, wine and dine with dancing till midnight. Taking you home with a simple kiss of promise with more to come. But he’s different now and you don’t deserve to have a broken man on your hands.

Swallowing harshly to cover your growing need to escape and bury yourself in another program or book to distract from those awful thoughts running around in your mind. Replaying all the brush offs and look aways as rejection shattering your heart. Pushing you to finish his new hair cut that much quicker. “Done, now how short you want your beard?”

“Gone,” knowing exactly what he’s saying and damning himself to the torture of a different kind.

Coming back in front of him, you slip between his parted knees so easily a thought you try to push away while switching the trimmer combs and flicking the on button. Carefully cupping his left cheek while shortening the right for a closer shave once your done. “Surely you didn’t just let them capture you.” Returning to a safer subject other than how good his bearded jaw felt in your warm palm. Wondering how it’d feel in other places.

“Offered myself up for a little bloody torture and a few broken bones. I’m here to tell the tale instead of those guys Y/N. They're off the streets and we have the information needed to finish taking down LAF.” Teeth gritting to keep from rubbing his jaw into your palm, from turning to kiss the center and devour you with his mouth.

Pausing a moment, “But you could’ve gotten killed James.” Sorrow coloring the cadence of your tone, eyes filled with fear at what could’ve happened. “You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped.”

Heart stopping, never had you spoken his first name, always Bucky or Buck, Barnes when your angry but never James. Opening his darken cerulean orbs breath trapped somewhere between lungs and mouth at the sorrow written deep in those eyes he never could not stare into. Heart hammering back to life with the subtle brushing of your fingers over his cheek, “Would it have matter?”

Confusion tips your head to the side, “What you dying or me helping?”

“Dying,” single word dropped like a bomb destroying everything in the path.

“James,” softly spoken with so much emotion held within the countenance of your features. Watching the ghosts float through those beautiful cerulean eyes, memories of a time he couldn’t control, of deeds done to people who didn’t deserve the pain and death he dealt out as the Fist of Hydra. Tears gloss over your eyes once again trying to blink them away to keep them from clogging your emotions filled throat. “It matter’s Barnes, matters to a lot of people you’re just too stubborn to realize that.” Shaking your head to clear the fog and get back to work.

Speechless Bucky just sits there letting you finish up trimmer the hair away as if trying to erase the past months, the torture he let happen with no regard to his personal well being. During this time your words chase around his mind, combined with Sam’s out right demand of him to never put himself in harms way like that again. Adding more questions added than any true answers. Delicate fingers brush over trimmed facial hair bringing him back to the present right as you move to take the barber’s cape from around his neck. Missing the warmth of your touch, heat radiating from your body, your scent filling his nose and making him drunk on you.

Folding the cape to drape over your arm, “I’ll shave you as well come back inside.” Voice slightly rough with unshed tears avoiding looking directly at Bucky and missing the longing written in the ocean pools. Mistaking his lack of response for rejection of your words and feelings. You enter the house placing the small hand load down and moving a chair over towards the sink. Returning to grab up the shaving cream and razor, pulling a fresh wash cloth from the draw by the sink too wet it hot.

“You don’t have to,” entering and closing the back door with the heel of his boot. Bucky leans against the counter watching you with a closed expression. Pain dull but still worming its way through his veins along with so many thoughts.

Glancing his way, “I know,” motioning with a wave of your hand, “but if I don’t that beard’ll come back in short order and we’ll have to do this all over again.” Going for playful to ease the tension built from the lingering words of out on the porch, “Bring your ass over here Buck.”

Your change in mood has a confused frown pulling his mouth down but complies with the order. Taking up the seat with spread legs and turned up face watching you wring out the wash cloth. Using your elbow and tipping his head back to gently place the hot cloth around what’s left of his beard to soften the hair and wake up the pores. Catching the small muffled groan, “To hot?”

“No, perfect,” faintly hearing the two simple words you grab up the shaving cream to put a generous amount in your palm before pulling the quickly cooling cloth from his face. Tossing it towards the sink and applying a layer of cream to his skin. Left overs rinsed from your hands quickly before drying and grasping the razor with steady hands. “Just a little off the top if you please,” boyish smirk slips over his lips tipping cream covered cheeks up while trying to be funny.

Eyes rolling, “To late for that one top’s already taken care of.” Using the pad of your thumb to push the skin of his cheek taunt. Carefully dragging the razor over his flesh intending to keep your gaze directed towards working the blade over his check. However, you’re unable to do so while cleaning the razor as your eyes dart up catching the fact Bucky’s gaze firmly rests on your face. Heat blooming across your body, eyes drop back to his cheek intent on getting finished quickly to avoid any farther embarrassment.

Meanwhile Bucky maps every feature of your face, the slant of your nose, set of your eyes, cupids bow of your top lip. Visions of drawing the plump flesh in for a bite and pull before letting go with a wet pop, filter through his mind. Finding himself in a rather precarious predicament, thighs spread to accommodate your body, his palms itch to grasp and tug you into his lap. Bitting back a moan each touch brings, the gentleness tearing a new hole in armored covered heart. Wanting to keep you out but finding it harder to do every time you show the kindness his life lacked for decades.

Minds eye drawing the curves of your cheeks, lips twitching to caress, fingers tapping trapped in plaster and cloth against his body. Wanting to brush his knuckles over your throat to gently grasp the back of your neck and bring your lips against his for a slow sweet drink of the tempting cavern of your warm mouth. Only snapping back to reality with the soft brush of your fingers along his jawline.

Searching for any hairs left behind, soothingly palming his cheeks with cool hands desperate to taste his skin. Drag your lips over the same spots the razor just graced. Teasing the tip of your tongue along the hard edge of his jaw to place a kiss just below his ear. Tempted to even suck a mark for everyone to see. You swallow harshly removing your hands from his cheeks to rinse and warm up the cloth to clean off any residual shaving cream from his face.

“Finished,” clearing your emotions clogged throat, stepping towards the sink, your profile the only side Bucky sees as you work to clean up the mess.

Feeling rather than hearing him stand heat radiating of his body just a few inches shy of brushing against yours. “Thank you doll,” impulsively leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. Lingering longer than he should but unable too stop himself from pressing soft slight chapped lips to the corner of your mouth. “Next time I need shavin’ I know who to come too,” breathing the words before pulling away, taking his leaving quickly to keep from doing something even stupider. Like wrap you up into his arms and actually kissing those pillow soft lips. Backdoor swinging closed a little harder than he meant in his bid to get away from your warmth and tempting body.

Frozen in place, skin tingling from just that slight press while your heart beats almost out of your chest. Pounding against your rib cage so hard fear it’ll crack a rib any second now. White knuckles grip the sinks edge, heat flaring across your body to pool low and throb through your lady parts. Thighs unconsciously rub together needing friction to alleviate the ache growing between your legs.

“Did you cut him or take a hunk of hair out and now he looks like Frankenstein monster?” Teasing tone to his quip, Sam enters the kitchen still staring at the back door. Having watched the exchange from the darkened hallway. Reverting his eyes to your back, taking in the ridge posture of your spine with a slight very subtle shake. “Y/N what’s wrong?” Swiftly coming up behind you, hands gripping your shoulders to turn you around. “Did Bucky say or do something wrong?” Worry creasing his brow the want to hold you close growing with each second your not in his arms.

Looking up into the kind russet eyes flashing with concern and worry, “No,” head shaking, “no he didn’t Sam just…” unable to stop yourself from burying your body against Sam’s firm chest. Trying to figure out how to explain what’s running around in your head. The indecision, thoughts you know shouldn’t roll through your mind doing just that as your arms wind around his trim waist.

“Just what sweetheart?” Wanting to help smooth things over between his two best friends even if it meant swallowing his own feelings.

Keeping your eyes closed, breathing in his cedar wood and citrus scent, burying your nose against his collarbone. Always able to calm the raging storm of emotions boiling through your veins. Confusion setting in with those same tingles you feel when Bucky touches you now dances across your body at the warmth of Sam’s arms cradling you close. Reminding you of earlier when his chest pressed to your back strong hands gently placed on your shoulders. The shiver you suppressed at the touch of both men. At the memory your eyes pop open and you quickly push away from Sam as if he’s burnt you. Needing to escape and figure out what’s going on.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry,” feet quickly taking you from the kitchen into the safe arms of your bedroom.

Missing the confused look marring Sam’s face that turns into hurt at the way you’ve shoved him aside. Body sagging against the counter, hand rubbing at the back of his neck searching for what’s changed in such a short period of time.

“Men, blind and just plain foolish,” landing a hard hit to his shoulder, which he rubs to alleviate the pain. Sarah comes up beside her older brother with a raised brow. “Still don’t get it? Searching for exactly why she reacted so strongly? Think Samuel use that big brain you have and actually put it to good use.”

Frown creasing between his eyes and drawing his lips down, “Left behind sucks Sarah that’s all it amounts to. But we… I couldn’t have her along, wouldn’t risk her life like that.”

“Has nothing to do with leaving her home Sam,” giving him a meaningful look that still bewilders him. “Why didn’t you want her along but you took Bucky with you?”

“He’s a super soldier Sar he can take the hits not that I want him hurt either. Shit when he let himself get captured,” moving towards the abandoned chair to plop down heavily. “He scared the living shit outta me, I thought…” hard to swallow the memories of watching those men pulling an unconscious Bucky into a van. Driving off before he could plant a tracker and barely able to get up with bruised ribs making breathing painful. Sam runs a hand over the short hair unsure when things got so complicated between the three of them.

Pulling up a chair in front of Sam, “You’d lost him?” Seeing the nod Sarah’s features softened knowing from the tell’s she picked up watching the three of them for so long. “You love them?”

“What?” Head whipping up so quickly making Sam wince. “Of course I do but not like that I mean their family, you know I’ll do anything to protect my family.”

Hand resting on his shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that big bro maybe one day you’ll actually believe it and able to push those feelings away good enough to keep them at arms length.” Looking up at her, “Just a word of advice,” seeing him nod, “don’t push those emotions away, you deserve that love they both would readily give you.”

*****************************

Softly closing the door behind you heading towards the ensuite bathroom for a nice cold shower, preforming your nightly routine, and shutting off every light except the one beside your bed. Falling into the soft mattress with your current book keeping you company for the rest of the night. Eyes start to droop, words blur and you read the same sentence half a dozen times. Book falling against your chest as a yawn takes over your features.

Body stretching out against cool sheets jumping when a soft knock echos around your room, eyes darting towards the clock to see its just a little passed mid night. Slowly getting out of bed, pulling the extra long dark blue with little pink flowers dotting the sleep shirt down to cover your ass and thighs. Thinking its Sarah checking on you, eyes shocked wide with the small crack you open the door to spy Bucky standing there fidgeting.

“Everything all right Buck?” Opening the door wider to lean against the casing arms crossed just under your breasts.

Swallowing, glancing from your eyes to lips repeatedly. Trying to form the words he wants to speak when the decision makes itself clear and Bucky surges forward. Gently wrapping vibranium fingers around the back of your neck and bragging you against his strong chest. Slanting his lips against yours, nipping your bottom lip to make you gasp and slipping his eager tongue passed into the warm depths of your mouth. Leading the kiss and praying he’s not wrong.

Rewarded by your arms winding around his neck careful of his injures. Fingers tugging at the now shorten strands thanks to your expect hands. Garnering a low moan from the depths of his chest, one that rambles with a pleased hum as you return the kiss. Tangling your tongues together making nothing soft nor gentle about this melding of mouths. Only breaking apart for both of you to gasp for air.

“No, nothing’s all right doll. I can’t stop thinking about you,” resting your foreheads together sharing common air. Fingers at the base of your skull massaging the tension with surprisingly easy pressure. “I’d done fighting, done pushing you away, I need you Y/N.”

“James?” Lips tingling from a kiss you’ve only dreamt about as confusion marring your tone, eyes blinking a few times to make sure you’ve pushed the sleepy haze from your mind.

Soft groan issues at hearing you whisper just first name, hand slipping down to wrap around your waist and pull your taut to his body. “If…” trying to push the next words past his lips, “if you don’t want…”

“Us, we need to know now sweetheart. We won’t push you into anything you don’t want,” Sam’s voice full of desire and longing cuts across Bucky’s for a moment.

Making you look up from eyes locked with Bucky to stare at Sam trying to process his words, the look in those beautiful russet eyes you can’t pull yours away from. Till Bucky presses a kiss to just below your ear, “We know it’s a lot to take in doll and you can say no…”

“I,” gulping like a fish out of water, heat thumping through your veins at the unspoken promise both sets of eyes show. “I don’t know what to say.”

Stepping forward to push you back a step so Sam can fully enter your bedroom and close the door. He comes behind you sandwiching your body between two walls of muscle and masculine warmth. Pressing a kiss to the opposite cheek, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, “There’s no going back sweetheart you’re ours if you say yes. But if the answer is no I’m not going to lie things will change. Awkward as hell yes especially at first but I,” Bucky clears his throat to which Sam nods, “we would work through that with you. Loosing your friendship can’t happen no matter what.”

Removing yourself from between their warm bodies to collapse at the end of the bed, head in your hands. Mind so confused, a jumbled mix of desire and lust touched with a heavy dose of love that scares the living shit outta you. Feeling the bed dip on either side, removing your hands to glance at both men. Seeing the reassurance in those cerulean and russet orbs you swallow to wet your parched throat. Gaining strength to finally speak, “I don’t want to loose either of you,” looking between both men. Taking each hand within your own, “But this last mission taught me I don’t want to deny my feelings any longer.”

“What feelings doll?” Giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Looking into Bucky’s cerulean eyes, “I’m in love with both of you.” Switching to Sam’s russet orbs seeing the blatant want shining only boosts your confidence to lean over. Cupping his jaw and bringing your lips against his. Different from the kiss you shared with Bucky. Who’s bottom lip begs for a nibbling, Sam’s fuller lips press against your own in tender caresses.

Gentler too, a soft slant of his mouth against yours, pressing twice at different angles before tracing over your bottom lip. Gaining entrance on a sigh of need to check in with your tongue before tangling together. Heated palm cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple twice while he artfully pillages your mouth. Drawing out a low moan squeak following when a set of lips slide over the side of your neck nibbling a short path to suck a mark behind your ear. Making you weak and boneless against Sam, who releases your cheek and hand to grip your hips, having you straddle his thighs.

Kiss breaking for air, “I’m to heavy Sam, your hip.”

“You’re prefect baby girl no arguing understand?” Cupping your ass in both hands to roll your hips against the hard bulge of his erection. Teeth gritting at how good you feel in his arms, the damp heat of your core only serving to make him grow harder with each brush against your cloth covered pussy. Sam reclaims your mouth, this kiss much different. Desperate and demanding taking no prisoners this time as he immediately slips his tongue back into your mouth. Pulling a groan from deep within your chest, arms going around his neck to help move your body against his. The delicious friction sending jolts of pleasure radiating out over your body, clit throbbing with a need you’ve never felt before.

Hissing at the cool sensations of Bucky’s vibranium fingers drawing circles across your back. Pushing your sleep shirt off your body arms raising, breaking the kiss to accomplish the task. Looking over your shoulder at the bare chested Barnes, mouth salivating at the sight eager to touch and kiss every inch. Brought back to Sam with the heat of his mouth connecting to your pulse, adding his own mark to your body while his callused fingers dances across your back.

Cursing his rotten luck for not having use of one hand, Bucky steps forward lowering to his knees carefully. Brushing his lips along your spine while cool alloyed fingers sweep around your body between you and Sam to trace a line between your breasts. Head dropping back to Bucky’s shoulder and baring your breasts to Sam’s hungry glaze and Bucky’s questing fingers.

“So beautiful,” words whispered reverently from Sam’s lips against the damp column of your throat. Mouth tasting each inch of your skin he can reach. Till moist heat circles your nipple, wet tip of his tongue coming out to flick the tightly budded peak before sucking harshly. In contrast to the cool patterns Bucky draws, taking the time to tug before pinching just hard enough that your back arches into Sam’s mouth.

Pushing into Bucky at your back a whimper parting your gasping lips. Needing more of both men surrounding you, slick coating your trembling thighs as you clinch around nothing. Dragging a whine of desperation from you soul,“Please,” single word escaping your mouth.

“What doll? What do you want?” Drawing his lips up to your ear, nipping the lobe bringing it between his teeth giving a sharp bite at the same time Sam flicks his tongue over your nipple.

Letting go with a wet pop, smiling at the whine exiting your heaving chest, “I think out girl needs more Buck. Any thoughts on how to please her?” Brow wiggling over your shoulder at Bucky who just smirks.

Fingers sliding down then under the band of your panties to find you soaked and pulsing. Cool metal meeting heated flesh makes you jolt in Sam’s arms. Grinding down into those wonderful fingers and against the thick ridge of Sam’s cock.

“Don’t stop please,” gasping head lolling back, your eyes close as sensations crash through your veins. Tight coil starting to form with just the brush of his fingers.

Maneuvering closer to slip two fingers into your clinching channel. Deep groan vibrating through his chest and into your back, “Fuck Sam she’s tight and so wet for us. I bet she tastes just as good as she feels.” Rocking your hips, fucking his fingers desperate for that high traveling up from the bottom of your spine. Tickling your tummy with jolts of pleasure only to have it diminish when Bucky pulls his fingers out.

Frustrated whine leaving your lips only to choke on air when Bucky offers one of the fingers perviously buried inside your cunt to Sam. Who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around the single digit, groaning at the very taste of your essence. Circling the tip with his tongue, making sure to clear every drop off while keeping eye contact with Bucky. Mimicking with his mouth how he’d suck Bucky’s cock, garnering a growl from deep within his chest. Letting go with a smirk, “Even better Buck and I bet from the source it’s simply heaven.”

“Only way to find out,” answering grin firmly in place he raises from the floor. Helping you stand on shaky legs turning you to face him. Capturing your lips in an open mouth kiss, flicking his tongue against yours, teasing your bottom lip and drawing out another frustrated groan making him chuckle. “Don’t worry doll we promise you won’t go unsatisfied we’re going to take care of your every need.”

“Don’t tease her Buck it’s not fair,” glint of mischief sparking through those russet eyes that only Bucky catches since your still face him. Sam comes up behind to pressing his bare chest against your back, hands resting on your hips, tugging and letting the band of your panties snap back against your skin. “You can still say no.”

Wiggling back against Sam then pressing forward to feel the hard line of Bucky’s erection against your lower tummy. Knowing why he’s asking, seeing the same sentiment mirrored in Bucky’s eyes that warms your heart filling with love for both men. “Now who’s teasing Samuel,” reaching behind you to slide your palm over his ridged cock giving a squeeze at the same time you palm Bucky. “I’m sure my loves,” enjoying the answering growls from both men. Before another word leaves your lips Sam tugs down your panties letting them pool at your feet as Bucky moves you towards the bed.

Swiping the book from the mattress to lay on the nightstand, smile on his lips at finding the well loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Bringing you to sit then lay back against the cool sheets, trailing his vibranium fingers from your cheek down between your breasts. Circling each nipple, giving the right a light pinch that has your back arching and a gasp existing your paired lips. Distracted till Sam gently grips your left ankle, spreading you open to slide between your legs. Pressing kisses alone the inside of your leg towards your thigh. Soft bread tickling your skin making giggles erupt from your mouth.

“I think she likes that Sam,” the comment spoken against your ear. Placing a kiss to your cheek, “Have to remember to let my own beard grow back out.”

Whimpering softly at the thought one hand fisting the sheets as Sam draws his tongue over the crease between thigh and groin. Purposefully avoiding the spot you want him most, “Payback is a bitch boys,” words growled out right as Bucky envelopes your left nipple into the heat of his mouth.

“Teasing half the fun sweetheart have patience,” looking up from between your legs. Stiffen tongue drawing up from your entrance to clit, circling the little throbbing nub and making your back arch, gasping for air.

“Fuck,” single word breathed from deep within your body. Sweat starting to bead across your forehead. Head tossed back into the pillow free hand carding through Bucky’s chestnut hair tugging the strands harshly till he lets your breast go with a wet pop. You guide his mouth up to yours, demandingly taking the kiss over, slipping your tongue into his mouth this time. Swallowing your moans of delight with each thrust of his tongue. Matching the pace Sam sets against your dripping cunt.

Rutting into the mattress to find the prefect friction hoping to ease for a moment the throbbing of his cock. “Stop stealing all those pretty noises Barnes I wanna hear our girl,” reaching up to smack the other mans thigh hard enough to break the two of you apart.

“Sorry not sorry,” giving him a smirk while licking his lips from the heated kiss.

Filing away the fact Bucky knows what means only to have any thought fly from your mind as two thick fingers enter your quivering channel. Slowly thrusting, his mouth suctioned onto your clit, drawing little short patterns making your thighs shake around his head. Slacking off to lazily place kisses over those thighs but still pumping his fingers, crooking them into a come hither motion to brush over that special spongy spot.

Blooming stars behind your tightly closed eyes, “Watch him doll, see how much you loves devouring that pretty cunt.” Voice rough with arousal against your ear, Bucky’s metal fingers dancing over your chest only adding to your heighten state of desire.

At his command you eyes open to lock with Sam’s passion blown blacken eyes. Moaning at the picture he presents you with, panting breath as you keep drawing closer to your orgasm. Only to have Sam back off creating frustrating tension in your body. Gritting out, “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.”

Smirk showing in those beloved eyes as he doubles down on your clit. Lips puffy but forming a perfect O too suction and flick his tongue over the engorged nerve bundle. Fingers, third added to stretch you open and picking the pace up as your mouth drops wide in a scream Bucky devours with a deep kiss. To keep from waking the kids or Sarah, his own body on fire with a need to have you both.

Tingles quickly dancing through your veins, breath panting as you break from Bucky’s mouth, one hand gripping the sheets below the other still buried in his hair. Body on fire as you near that perfect orgasm Sam’s intent on giving you.

Denial’s not just a river in Egypt as your eyes pop open at the knock on your door. Reminiscent of what your sluggish brain comes to understand as just a very vivid dream. One that makes your heart drop with the book that’d lay on your chest now face down on the carpeted floor. You stand checking the time of mid night before heading to the door and finding Sarah on the other side with ice cream in hand.

“Figured you might need some cheering up,” letting her in and taking the bowl of your favorite ice cream.

Vivid dream lingering though you don’t share feeling a TMI moment she doesn’t and most likely wouldn’t want to know about her big brother. You steer the topics away from the non existent love life to plans for tomorrow and the coming weekend.

[nocturnaldivinationsfallingstars]

A Stray Bullet Part 2

Fandom: Gotham Characters: Victor Zsasz, female!reader, James Gordon. Warnings: Mentions of blood, swearing. Summary: The reader is James Gordon’s sister and works for the GCPD and is dating Victor Zsasz. The reader has kept it a secret from her brother, until one day when she takes a bullet that was meant for him. Victor then shows up at James’ place to see the reader. Word count: 3,513 A/N: I apologise for this chapter taking me a while to edit! I hope you all enjoy it.

A deafening silence seemed to fall heavily upon the bullpens on the lower level as everyone stood stiffly in place. The files they once held in their hand were now forgotten and scattered over their desks or the floor. Their arrestee's was also forgotten about, quietly waiting with bated breath for the inevitable to happen. Each officer and detective stared at the intimidating man before them with unblinking eyes, almost transfixed waiting for him to speak and tell them why he's in the department. Standing off to the side by the entrance stood the two Zsaszettes, one of which took the cap off of a male officer and placed it on her own head with a smile. While the other leaned into his personal space, ruffling his short thin hair with a grin.

The officer looked uncomfortable with the attention from the two women, his cheeks red while he kept jerking his head away from the woman's reach. The sigh of discontent and annoyance that escaped him was audible in the quietness. You couldn't blame him, if it were you in that situation, you'd feel uncomfortable as well.

With a deep and somewhat shaky sigh of anticipation, you managed to avert your stare of mild disinterest from the scene of the poor officer that was being terrorised by Victor's 'friends'. You trailed your eyes over to your boyfriend and pressed your lips together into a thin line.

Victor turned swiftly on the heels of his feet with so much ease it almost seemed like a natural movement. He proceeded to move away from the desk he had rapped his knuckles against just a few moments ago. He crossed the small space from the desk to the wooden bench, which could seat three arrestees waiting to be processed, that was pressed flush against another desk. You watched quietly as your heart beat steadily in your chest for the time being, as a dark feeling bubbled its way up in the pit of your stomach. Victor stepped on the bench, his confidence never wavering as he hauled himself onto the surface of the desk with minimal effort, like he had done this plenty of times before. He most likely had, you told yourself as you remembered his profession. 

He scanned the crowd of people who stood before him, most of whom were still staring in his direction with a blank, almost unreadable expression on their faces. A blush appeared on your cheeks as you looked up at Victor, burning like a bright red beacon as you emitted a low whining noise that rose from your throat. You shrank into your chair as your shoulders shot upwards and pressed against your neck and earlobes harshly. You used the collar of your ivory coloured blouse to try to hide from his gaze, like you are trying to make yourself small and unnoticeable. However, his dark, cold eyes fell on you upon hearing the low whining sound. Some kind of emotion that you couldn't quite place flashed across his eyes for a mere moment. Victor stared at you huddled in your chair, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

This wasn't a part of what Victor had planned out meticulously around your work schedule, which you had pinned to the front of your old, dented fridge with a circular magnet. You were supposed to be at home for the day relaxing, or even out shopping, at the very least doing something away from the GCPD. This was so that you weren't involved in any kind of capacity, however, he would take care of that if the need were to ever arise. He would simply have to wing it.

You watched him as his hands went to the lapels of his black jacket, rubbing his thumbs carefully over the fabric. Victor spoke in a loud, crystal-clear voice, gaining the attention of any other officers that may have otherwise ignored the assassin. You, however, unlike your co-workers, almost flinched as he spoke. Breaking the quiet stillness that you had got used to.

“Hello everyone, my name is Victor Zsasz. I'm sent here personally by Don Carmine Falcone himself on a matter of deep concern to him, so please be respectful.” he introduced himself charismatically to the room. At least his eyes were no longer on you. A frown creased your brow as you listened to what he had to say. If what Victor is saying turns out to be true; that Falcone, the current criminal kingpin of Gotham City, sent his personal and most trusted hitman here for an officer of the GCPD, then it must be to send the rest of the officers, including yourself, a message to never cross him.

Your tongue darted from between your dry lips to moisten them and your hands twitched nervously on the arms of your chair. It was all you could do to keep yourself from worrying that maybe Victor wasn't there for an officer, but instead for you on the orders of Falcone. After all it wouldn't be an unreasonable idea to why Victor is at your place of work.

Falcone had been one of the many reasons as to why you and Victor decided to keep your relationship a secret. Well, Falcone and your brother were just a few of the reasons as to why it is a secret. There was no telling what Falcone would do, or even get someone to do something unpleasant to you, if he knew.

“I'm here for Jim Gordon,” Victor continued as he removed his hands from the lapels of his jacket and held them out in front of himself, his elbows bent as he made a slight hand gesture. Your mouth parted, eyes darting towards the Captain’s office. What the fuck did he do now, you thought to yourself anxiously. The dark feeling that bubbled in the pit of your stomach threatened to crawl up your throat and spill past your lips like some kind of poisonous bile, nervously glancing from the office’s closed door and over to Victor. “Only him. Everybody else mind your own business, and we're cool.” He added, finally dropping his hands to his sides.

Looking around at the people near you, still watching him intently as he spoke in his calm voice. No one seemed phased, and it made you wonder just how often this kind of thing happened at the GCPD for no one to be bothered by the threat to your own brother’s life. Most officers here really did have questionable morals.

“So, where's Jim man?” Victor asked the large crowd as he leaned forwards ever so slightly, raising his brows expectantly. For a moment no one made a move to tell him, but just as his pale lips opened, a couple of people turned their heads towards the closed door of Captain Sarah Essen's office. Even though you already knew where your brother was, you still copied Victor and followed their gaze to the glass, swallowing hard.

From where you sat you could make out two silhouettes. The taller of the two of course being James's, the shorter being the Captain’s.

Did you need to think of a foolproof escape plan for James? Or did he already have one? After all he usually had some sort of plan for something like this. If he didn't then he'd often make one up on the spot. Why would now be any different from any other time? He had to have a plan, he had to think of a plan.

“What the fucking hell did you do, Jim?” You muttered, shifting in the chair which creaked under your weight. Your stomach lurched and your throat felt as if someone was squeezing it tightly. A lump formed in your throat. The realisation that he had got himself into something that he basically had no way out of dawned on you, making your stomach lurch once more. Your fingers curled around the arm rests of your chair, keeping you in place. 

“Thank you,” Victor said in a hushed tone of voice. Pressing the tips of his fingers against his chest, his dark eyes broke away from the door for a brief moment before instantly returning. 

“Hey Jim!” he called out loud enough. Your eyes darted from Victor and over to the door, where your brother turned his head to the sound of his name. Victor dropped his hands back to his side once more, tearing your eyes from the door and over to Victor.

“Jim -” Victor drew out teasingly, his gaze never moving from the silhouettes. Barely a few seconds later you heard the unmistakable sound of the Captain's door opening, and then two sets of footsteps that echoed around you. Of course this drew your attention from your boyfriend to find James and the Captain stood in front of the wooden railing. The door closed behind them with a loud click.

“Don't say something stupid. Please don't say something stupid.” You whispered to yourself, trying to will James to not make things worse. This earned a few curious glances from those stood closest to you. Paying no attention to them, you continued to hope for him to keep his mouth shut.

“Hi Jim.” Victor said with the tiniest hint of a smile on his face and the smallest trace of happiness hidden in his voice could be heard. He raised a hand and gave James a small wave before dropping his hand back to his side, flexing his fingers. “Relax, we're supposed to take you in alive. Don Falcone wants to talk.” Silence filled the room for a brief moment before James started to talk.

“Tell Falcone we'll talk,” you let out a breath of air you had been holding as his gruff voice bounced around the quiet room. He was being civil. Perhaps he won't get maimed and killed after all, “but not today” he added. And there goes any chance of James coming out of this alive and unharmed by Victor today, you thought bitterly to yourself.

“Don't… be that way.” Victor managed to seethe out through clenched teeth, clamping his jaw together, his hands tightening into fists.

“Alive is a very broad category; a man with no hands can still be alive.” Victor spoke in a cold, slow voice which sent a shiver down your spine. You had never heard him talk that way before, and you didn't know if you found it attractive or really, really terrifying. However, with your current conflicting feeling at this very moment it may as well be a bit of both.

“There are 50 cops in here. Try something.” James said, his voice low and held a dangerously daring tone to it.

“Everybody out.” Victor stated simply, a hint of malice dripping like poison in his voice, not once did the hitman take his eyes from James. Not one of the officers made a move to leave, not even you. A couple of officers shifted on their feet as they looked between the two men locked in a staring competition. 

“Please!” Victor yelled angrily. This caused you to jump in your chair, your shoulders knocking your jacket off and onto the wooden floor beneath your feet with a thud. No one batted an eyelash at the noise that came from your direction, all of them scrambling to leave as quickly as they possibly could. The doors slammed shut behind them when the last person exited. You almost laughed at the thought of the confused facial expressions of the civilians on the streets watching all fifty officers leave the department at once. 

“Go boss, get out of here.”

“Jim,” Sarah whispered, unmoving.

“Go, I’m gonna handle this. Take [Y/N] with you.” Nodding his head towards the doors. 

You shot up almost automatically from your chair, throwing your hands in the air as you did so before dropping them to your side. The palms of your hands slapping against your thighs loudly. You saw Captain Essen move out of your peripheral vision, she reached your desk in a matter of seconds, reaching a still hand out for you. You couldn't help but wonder why she was so calm about this whole situation, much like the others.

“I am not leaving you here Jim! This is completely fucking insane, even for you. You'll get yourself killed.” You told your brother, waving off the Captain who took that as a sign to leave you and left, the door swinging closed behind her.

“He's right. You should leave. I'd hate to hurt someone as beautiful as you.” Victor told you, his head now turned in your direction with a look of curiosity on his features. His words making a blush rise to your cheeks once more. You were silently cursing the fact that he could make a blush appear with a few simple words and soft, dark eyes pleading for you to listen and not to be stubborn for once. 

“I am not leaving,” you told the two men stubbornly. You could see Victor's fingers twitching, letting his irritation towards your words known. You had to avert your eyes from him. He knew that he wouldn't be able to tell his girls not to hurt you, since the two of you needed to keep asking as if neither one of you knew each other. Of course this was only to keep yourselves from raising any suspicions. Victor rolled his shoulders turning his attention back to your brother, his brows raised. 

You knew that leaving your brother to take care of Victor and his girls along would absolutely guarantee his death. Whereas staying behind to help him made you feel as if he had a chance, a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. Although, you did feel as if staying behind was some sort of death wish more than anything. But you couldn't exactly let him die here, and it's not like you'd be shooting at Victor per se. You'd leave that part to your dear brother after all and aim in the general direction of Victor's girls. You reasoned with yourself.

“Well now Jim,” Victor drawled out, his hands already inching towards the gun on his hip at a slow pace. Anxiety twisted your stomach in knots as you watched somewhat patiently for what’s to happen next.

James moved his hand, brushing aside his blazer and popping the button on his holster he drew his gun with quickly and with ease. Dropping behind your desk to one of your knees, you made a silent prayer to whoever was listening that you had your gun on yourself as you followed his lead. It wasn't long after James drew his weapon did he start firing at Victor who did a backflip off of the metal table he had been standing on. The bullet ricocheted off of its surface and landed somewhere on the floor with a gentle clink. 

“You know I can take care of this. Just go!” James called back to you from his hiding place. You made a face as you turned around on the balls of your feet and shot a couple of rounds at the two women behind you before ducking behind cover, rather liking the fact that you are alive.

“Mhm…” You hummed out, pretending to think about it, “nope. Still staying.” You responded. 

James ducked behind Harvey’s desk as Victor fired round, after round, after round at James relentlessly. Victor clambered onto a desk he walked along the metal surface with purpose, pulling the trigger of the gun in hand a couple of times. 

A bullet penetrated the glass doors in front of James and shattered to the floor in a million pieces. For a brief moment, James huddled himself together, his arms going to the top of his head to shield himself from the falling shards of glass, scrambling to move from his compromised hiding place. You pushed yourself up from behind the desk with a grunt and started to move towards the green-ish grey door that led to the back stairwell and the GCPD's parking lot. It was a more feasible exit than trying to make a run for the front doors, so that's where you guessed James was heading to, clearly having some kind of escape plan in mind. 

James pushed the metal desk over once he turned the corner to create another hiding space from the flurry of bullets that rained down in his direction. He grabbed at the metal trash can that's sitting beside the desk. His eyes darted to the woman with her dark hair styled into a quiff and threw it at her hand to keep her from shooting at you, letting you use this opportunity to dive behind cover and started shooting in the direction of the other female from where you knelt behind cover.

This drew her attention away from your brother as the two of you hurriedly made your way to the open doorway, James getting there before you however. You came skidding to a stop next to the trio of dark green filing cabinets, pressing your lips together into a thin line you raised  your hand, and sent a few more rounds flying towards both women

Just as one of them fired at you, Victor pulled the trigger of his own gun a couple of times. You hoped he had emptied the clip and chamber in those few shots, but knew it was unlikely that he did. The bullets he sent flying through the air were clearly meant for James. You hadn't exactly done anything to warrant a hail of bullets in your directions, this was more for the illusion after all. However, as you turned to run and join James, you turned your body in the direct line of fire of oncoming bullets.

The first of the bullets embedded itself deeply into your side, causing you to throw your free arm around yourself, making it all the easier for you to press your hand against your side where the sharp pain ripped through you. You doubled over, feeling the wet sticky substance of blood seeping through your once perfectly clean blouse. Trying to straighten yourself out just as the second bullet straight through your shoulder, causing you to drop to your knees on the floor, a pained look twisted across your features.

A loud pained-filled scream tore from you and filled the room, mixing with the echoes of bullets ricocheting off of the metal filing cabinets and the heavy foot falls of the three advancing people. 

“What the fuck?” You squealed out in a high-pitched voice from the pain that seared through your shoulder. Your words aimed towards your boyfriend, who muttered out a string of profanities as he dropped from the desk with a heavy thud when his feet touched the floor. You dropped your gun and reached up with your hand to press it firmly against your shoulder. James, however, ran to you, took a hold of your upper arm, and proceeded to pull you across the floor. Once he was sure that you were out of the way, he pushed a filing cabinet over to block the exit that you and he were about to take. Hoping it would give him a bit of extra time to get you to your car that was parked out back.

James yanked you up from the floor and to your feet with a grunt of effort, flinging your arm around his shoulder and gripping your wrist in a vice-like grip. You grit your teeth at the sudden surge of white-hot pain blooming through your shoulder and side, leaning into your brother for support as he pulled you towards the stairwell. He pushed the door open with a loud clang that rattled through the barren room as the handle hit against the brick wall. His hand moved to your side instantly, muttering out an apology as he placed his hand over yours tightly, pulling you up once more to keep you from falling to the floor.

“God-fucking-damn it, that hurts like hell.” You hissed out in a shaky voice. Even walking sent a burning pain shooting through your entire side and sent a shiver down your spine.

“There's just a couple flights of stairs to go down, and then we can get out of here.” James told you in that soft and soothing voice he would often use when you were little after doing something that you most certainly shouldn't have done. 

Your lips curled into a faint smile as a small humourless laugh escaped your lips, you cast your eyes to the red droplets that had fallen to the pristine white floor. “I'm so glad that's all there is. A couple,” you muttered in response, willing your feet to move. James could always leave you on the stairwell and get out of there. You were sure Victor would send his girls after your brother while he stayed behind to 'take care' of you, but you knew that if you even so much as suggested the idea James would never agree.

Taglist; @moonlitcrystals, @nheirei, @the-ramblings

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 22

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat  additional warnings: open the read more, CTRL + F and search “content warnings” to skip to the additional "spoiler-y" tags for trigger warnings

hey guys! i made a ko-fi! if you enjoy this and have some cash you could spare to help me out with my bills, id really appreciate it! if you follow the link and check out the ‘posts’, there’s a snippet for ch. 4 of posies! 

Their parents had died a few months after her thirteenth birthday and Penny essentially blacked out for the next 8 months. She didn’t remember anything from that school year, although she’d evidently scraped by in all of her classes��actually, Penny was still convinced that little Peter, who was already showing signs of being a tiny genius, had done at least half of her homework. She didn’t remember Hanukkah that year, or the first Christmas she’d ever celebrated with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. She had zero friends coming out of that year, having accidentally pushed everyone away in fits of rage or sadness that she couldn’t even remember. The pain cut just as deep every time she remembered showing up to school the first day of her freshman year only to receive the cold shoulder from half her grade.

That was actually one of the first memories she’d retained after coming out of 7 months and 3 weeks of complete emptiness, how none of her best friends wanted anything to do with her. Everything had been confusing, somehow devastating all over again but… it was less. Her parents were gone and it hurt so much but it was nothing compared to the agony that had beset her form seconds after being informed her mom and dad were dead. When Penny racked her brain she could almost remember Aunt May crouched in front of her while she sat on the couch at home, holding her hands.

Somewhere in her brain, Penny had known that plane crashes were possible. Like, as a concept she understood the idea. The plane that was flying through the air stops doing that, and all the people inside the plane die. But it couldn’t possibly happen to her parents—they were her parents, they were infallible. Plane crashes happened, yeah, but her parents couldn’t be gone. Aunt May had told her several years later that she and Ben had been petrified she would try to kill herself, especially when the state tried to take the young girl away from the Parker’s.

They’d never had the money for therapy and Penny figured she’d never regain the memories from those months but honestly, she didn’t want them. The gaps were reprieves, the missing conversations, the absence of any and all detail. Wasn’t she sad to not remember her eighth-grade graduation? Fuck no, it was a blessing to forget how she’d felt like everyone in existence had their eyes on her—except for the ones she wanted.

There were times she absently wondered how disappointed her parents would be that she didn’t finish college, let alone get an actual high school degree. Her dad had been so smart, a genius in his own right. And her mom… Penny tried not to think of her mom often, not when it hurt so deeply. Mary Parker had been a gentle soul with an IQ of 150 who made Penny feel safe and loved and understood every day of her life. Her mother would’ve been understanding, she would’ve seen the necessity in her dropping out but it would’ve hurt that gentle soul to know the opportunities her baby had missed.

It hurt Penny in a special way that neither of Mary and Richard Parker’s children would be graduating from high school. Neither would attend university. They wouldn’t go on to press the limits of their parent’s knowledge or make an impact on the world. Somehow despite everything she’d sacrificed, Peter would never get the opportunity that he deserved. Her genius baby brother, his potential capped before he had a chance to try. God, it was an agonizing burn in her chest, a searing pain that made her nauseous and light-headed.

Her heart was pounding so hard she wondered if her ribs would crack. The cabin was lovely. Dark wood and an A-frame, a nice deck in the back and lots of windows. It was surrounded by trees, with dark needles or thin pale trunks, the purple mountains of the Rockies a lovely backdrop. It was colder than she’d expect for summer, especially considering the overcast sky and the breeze. The clouds moved so fast at such a high altitude and Penny watched trembling as a shadow passed over the house, chasing the light away before the sun followed its path ravenously once more.

Steve and Bucky were unloading suitcases from the back of the SUV, passing each other calculating looks as Penny stood practically frozen in place. Her shoulders were hunched almost to her ears, arms wrapped gently but tightly around the white kitten in her arms. It was purring quietly, the same way it had been for hours now. The little thing had cried the first few hours after they’d left the tower and subsequently the chubby cheeked orange kitten behind, only settling when Penny laid down across the middle seat in the SUV and let it burrow into the crook of her neck.

If Penny turned around she would’ve recognized the mournful looks on their faces, the pain in the lines of their eyes. The soldiers knew the hurt she felt, to be separated from their most important person—they understood that Peter was the most important person in Penny’s world. This separation was on their heads, but what could they do? They’d worked themselves into a rut, the three of them, wearing such deep treads into their negative behaviors that they couldn’t climb out. A complete shakeup was the only solution.

Both winced when she abruptly folded at the waist, clutching the kitten to her chest, and vomited over the pine needle strewn dirt of the driveway. Her hair fell in heavy, curly curtains around her face as she heaved again, hiding her tear-streaked face from the soldiers’ view. The sound of them setting the bags they held down registered in Penny’s ears but she couldn’t find the strength to collect herself before they converged on her.

“Come ‘ere doll, lemme take you up to the bathroom,” Bucky stated quietly, sweeping her and the cat up into his arms as gently as he could, “you can take a bath while me and Steve get everything unloaded. I think you’ll really like the cabin baby, we… well, we designed it just for you. If there’s anything you want to change, you just tell us. We want it to be perfect for you.”

She mostly caught flashes of green and white and brown, tucking her chin to look at the kitten snuggled into her cleavage. It felt cruel, to have taken the white one and left the orange, but the little chubby-cheeked kitten had taken to her brother so well—better than it had taken to her, even. Peter had named it Malcah and while it still didn’t like being picked up or held, it twined his ankles and meowed at him for love.

“Sit here baby,” the soldier set her carefully on the lid of the toilet, after having climbed a set of stairs and turned multiple blurry corners, “let me run your bath.”

It was all white tile, the toilet built into the wall. The tub was a freestanding clawfoot, with a spray nozzle and high sides. It was surprisingly small, considering how large the tub in the tower had been. Penny idly speculated that only perhaps one of the soldiers would be able to fit at time and it would certainly be a tight squeeze if she was forced in with them. There was a standing shower on the other side, where the roof wasn’t so sharply sloped by the A-framed roof. The nice thing, that Penny would never admit was very nice, was all of the plants. The entire room was predominantly white but there was a long-vined philodendron hanging gracefully over the tub, snake plants sitting on the shelf before the toilet. She could see a rubber plant and another type of vine by the sinks, framing the mirror.

They’d obviously gone to great lengths to make sure it would be something she liked, clearly evidenced by the bathroom alone. There were even candles waiting to be used on the antique, hunter green shelves and bath bombs with lovely scents. If she’d been able to design a personal bathroom, Penny figured it would probably have looked something like this and that made her hate it all the more.

The bastards were so in their heads they could barely see the sunlight. Penny was convinced that they were so distracted orchestrating her nightmare they’d lost the plot. They kept throwing stuff at her; beautiful plants, nice clothing, cute cats, lovely homes—but it didn’t mean a single thing. All of the possessions in the world didn’t make up for the gaping, rotting hole in her chest.

“Alright doll, let’s get you undressed,” Bucky shifted towards her once the water was at the right temperature and filling the tub, a small smile on his stubbled face.

“Do you think I’m debilitated?” She rasped after a moment, rolling her eyes up to stare him in the face before spitting a vomit speckled wad of phlegm onto the rug by her feet and setting the kitten on the shelf next to the snake plants. “Last time I checked I didn’t need to be treated like a baby. Are you gonna keep standing over me like a pervert? Get out.”

The soldier’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, surprised by the calmness behind her cutting tongue. Usually, when Penny got an attitude, it came with fury and fists and resulted in broken bones or bleeding wounds. This was overwhelmingly controlled; a bitchy rebuttal. Her voice was the gravelly tone she usually got after screaming or crying, dark brown eyes nearly black.  When he didn’t move, Penny rolled her eyes and stood, whipping her t-shirt over her head and dropping it to the ground.

“You’re bein’ a little moody, babe,” Bucky watched calmly as she undressed, her clothes piling up on the floor. “Wanna think about reigning it in?”

Penny’s hair was big and curly around her face, framing the clenched jaw and sneering nose. “What are you gonna do, kill me? Whatever.”

“Penny, what—”

“Peter is a thousand miles away,” Penny’s voice started out sharp but very quickly faded into a tired drawl, “you can’t hurt him from here. And what do I care if you hurt me? So could you either get the fuck out and let me take a bath or fucking drown me in it? Whatever it takes for this interaction to be over.”  

“Are you looking for a punishment right now?” Bucky’s lips pulled down at the corners, eyebrows furrowing, “‘Cause you’re working your way towards one really quick.”

“What’re you gonna do? Kill someone in front of me?” She groaned, reaching up to dig her fingers into the roots of her hair, tugging sharply before dragging it into a tangled, thoughtless bun on the top of her head “Or spank me until I can’t sit? Rape me? Could you just get it over with? I want to be alone, please!”

Bucky was silent for several long seconds before sighing through his nose, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. “Take your bath, think about your fuckin’ attitude. Steve and I are gonna bring the bags in.”

He left the door open and Penny was further irritated to learn he had too much dignity to stomp down the stairs the way she’d hoped he would. His break in composure had been so good for her it was unbelievable—but there was likely a punishment on the horizon and Steve wasn’t likely to let her off easy once the brunet told him what she’d said. The bastard was stone cold when it came to that shit.

She stared idly at the steaming bath, naked with her clothes piled around her feet—the question was whether she wanted a bath or if she’d been resigned to it? The water was scented, because of course it was. It was even one of her favorite citrusy scents, she noted disdainfully, another thing they had paid so much attention to while keeping her locked up in a tower like fucking Rapunzel. Now in a cabin, she figured she was a Jewish Goldilocks surrounded by hungry bears.

But it smelled nice and her body ached from the long car ride, it had already been run so why not hop in? Besides, it would keep her busy while the soldier’s fucked around and she wouldn’t have to see them for a bit. They were shuffling around and she could hear the sounds of bags being placed around the cabin. The door banged off the walls several times, always accompanied by a groan or a curse, one of which she recognized as a Yiddish swear—which she refused to find endearing. The kitten meowed at her from its position on the shelf, looking put out to be so far away but Penny shushed it quietly.

“You won’t like the water, just stay there,” she murmured quietly at the distraught little creature, picking up a washcloth and dunking it into the perfumed water. “If I come get you I’ll make a huge mess.”

She ignored the kitten as it continued to communicate with her, chittering in annoyance and pawing the edge of the ledge for several minutes before evidently surrendering and lying down with its little paws draped over the edge. Penny smiled to herself, the cat’s tail was roughly the size of its body and when it curled the fluffy mass of fur around itself it became unrecognizable as a cat. The orange one would’ve continued to complain until Penny let it down, would’ve just barely given her ankles a rub before running off to hide somewhere.

That’s why she decided to leave Malcah with Peter; the orange cat didn’t run from or scratch him. She twined his ankles, sat next to his thigh on the couch, kneaded her little paws against him. Peter had decided both kittens were female, based on the very reasonable basis that he wanted them to be. Penny wasn’t sure, didn’t quite care. The only thing she ever referred to the cats as was Chatul—which literally meant cat in Hebrew. She’d shortened it to Tuly for the white kitten, for the sake of ease, but refused to say it in front of the soldiers. The cat was hers, she didn’t have to share it with them.

The sounds of the soldiers were becoming more consistent throughout the cabin and Penny figured they must’ve brought in all of the bags and were focused on unpacking. She could hear someone down in the kitchen, unloading the masses of groceries they’d brought up the mountain while the other was in the bedroom. Penny rubbed the washcloth over her skin lightly, the oils from the fragrance making her skin soft and slippery.

She didn’t hear him come in, she felt Steve come in. The blond’s presence was just as overwhelming as Tony Stark’s, an aura bigger than his body that filled the room. She could feel the disappointed stare, even as she continued to wipe herself down with the washcloth. Her teeth ground together as he watched in silence, just waiting.

“Bucky said you’ve caught an attitude, baby doll.”

“Caught an attitude?” She rolled her eyes. “Wow, if only I hadn’t become desensitized to living in constant terror—you never would’ve realized I’ve had an attitude the whole time!”

“We’re supposed to be turning a new page, Pen.”

“Turning a—” Penny scoffed, face appalled as she abruptly stood from the bath and ignored the water going everywhere, “we’re not turning a new page—You burnt the fucking book!”

The blond’s eyes widened; Penny had gotten angry in the past, furious even. She’d broken things, broken skin, broken bones and it was always accompanied by outraged screaming. But Penny didn’t make unnervingly straight eye contact while she did it. She was barely coherent at the best of times, mostly she screamed to the room at large before flying into a violent frenzy—it was different. It was startling, the light in her eyes and the way her voice cracked.

“There is no page turning, there’s no fucking­—fucking reconciliation here, Steve,” she snatched a towel from the rack behind the tub, wrapping the light green fabric around her chest tightly, “I can’t believe after, fuck, how long has it been? A month and a half? Two months? What fucking day is it?”

“…It’s July 2nd,” he found himself choking out, still feeling shell shocked as she stepped out of the tub.

“A month and a half,” Penny’s face twitched, just barely concealing the distraught look he could see she wanted to make and she started shifting past him, “Jesus Christ after a month and a half you guys still don’t get it—you know what, never mind. After a month and a half, I should’ve been smart enough to realize what dumbasses you both are.”

“Penny—”

“God, fuck!” She shouted up at the ceiling, stopping in place halfway out the door. “I have listened to you two talk at length for what’s apparently been a month and a half! I have tried to listen to your stupid fucking rules, I put in the fucking effort and you still decided to take away the one thing I care about! I’m sick and tired of you saying my name in that fucking tone, I’m tired of constantly internalizing and I’m tired of being fucking walked on! So I’ll tell you what I told Bucky—either kill me or leave me alone, but for fucks’ sake just give me space!”

A low mew followed her statement and Penny made an abrupt about face, stomping past him to snatch up the kitten from where it had been sitting on the ledge and storming past him again. It was like getting brushed by a wildfire and Steve fought the urge to take a step back when her wet hair whipped against him.

She dug through one of the bags that held her belongings angrily, kitten on her shoulder, knowing that the blond continued to watch her from the bathroom doorway. Shorts, underwear, a sports bra, a t-shirt, and a hoodie over that. She would’ve put on socks but she knew it bothered Steve when she went barefoot.

“Come downstairs, precious,” he sighed after watching her dress, gesturing towards the stairs, “we’ve got to talk.”

“We’ve always got to talk,” Penny snorted derisively but started down the stairs anyway, Tuly back in her arms, “but it’s usually just you two telling me what I can and can’t do. Stop bossing me around.”

Steve followed after her, aghast and confused—Penny had always been brave in the situations she was forced into, whether it was taking custody of her fourteen year old brother or dealing with being kidnapped from her apartment by a billionaire criminal, but she hadn’t ever antagonized before. She’d talked back, got irritated, snapped, but she hadn’t ever just been flat out bitchy.

On the main floor, Bucky had already put away all of the groceries and was folding up the cloth shopping bags to tuck away for next time. The brunet’s eyes locked on Penny for several long calculating seconds and her hackles raised; whatever was coming was going to be annoying. She refused to be afraid though, not when there wasn’t anything to lose. Not anymore.

“Sit on the couch, let’s talk,” Steve directed, watching as she seemed to contemplate following the direction before doing so, “things are obviously going to be different here, precious.”

“The cabin is equipped with the same AI as the tower but its restricted to monitoring and safety protocols,” Bucky explained, gesturing to the open layout of the main floor, “you’ll be able to go outside so long as you ask first, there’s plenty to do out there. When Steve bought it there was an overgrown vegetable garden out there, we had it cleaned up for you and the shed fixed up and stocked. A lot of good hiking around here too.”

“I can’t talk to JARVIS?” She asked, eyes tracking the way the soldier’s exchanged glances. “Of course not. Then I would have some sort of interaction beyond the pair of you. Damaging to your plan, huh?”

“Penny, the rules didn’t end just because we’re out of the tower,” Steve had one hand braced on his hip while the other rubbed over his forehead, “be—”

“If you say Be Sweet I’ll find a way to kill myself,” Penny intoned, a dry look on her face. “Jews don’t have an afterlife you know, I’m not afraid of going to Hell.”

“Penny, we’re trying—”

“Penny we’re trying,” she mocked in a high-pitched voice, dead eye stare once again boring into Bucky’s, “I’m not. I’m done trying. You’ll either kill me or drive me insane, I’ll never see Peter again—I…I failed. I couldn’t protect him, I couldn’t even keep him safe until he was an adult, isn’t that insane? Grand total of three years and some change and I fucked it up.”

Penny stood up from the couch, shaking her head as she went. The kitten was quick to jump off the couch and follow after her, meowing while that massive fluffy squirrel tail curled over its back. The open floor plan of the cabin came in handy for the soldiers though, because she couldn’t really escape even as she walked across the living room and into the kitchen.

It was hard to pretend she didn’t actually love the cabin. The kitchen was small, located beneath the loft that held the bedroom and bathroom. The railing to the loft was covered in live vines that hung down to create a tiny illusion of separation between the living room and kitchen, the kitchen itself was sage green with white and dark brown accents. There were more plants, open cabinets mounted to the walls, the sink was small but there was a dishwasher. She loved the spiral staircase that led up to the loft, framing the kitchen to the left with small shiny baubles hanging from it.

There was a hamsa and a cross, both stained glass and hanging from the tallest step. Pretty cat toys hung from the lower railings, just within the kitten’s reach. It made Penny’s skin itch, just how lovely and perfect the whole cabin was. More evidence that they were paying a freaky amount of attention to her and every move she made.

“You didn’t fail, doll,” Bucky’s tone was quiet and he hesitated for a moment before following after her several paces, ending up on the edge of the kitchen, “You didn’t fuck it up, Peter—”

“Peter is trapped in a prison in New York with a creep more than twice his age who wants to violate and brainwash him,” Penny was on her knees in front of the fridge, digging through the crisper drawer in the bottom. “Literally all I had to do to prevent that from happening was pay more attention to his daily life. Fuck, kid was practically raising himself with how often I was gone—never stood a chance, you know?”

“Don’t think like that Penny,” Steve sighed, leaning down to pick up the kitten that had circled back to his ankles and setting it on his shoulder, “there’s nothing you could’ve done. You know who Tony Stark is, you know what he’s capable of. You can’t heap that guilt on your shoulders.”

“Oh, can’t I?” She hummed, absently throwing a package of bacon onto the floor, followed by a flat of raw chicken and beef. “There can be dairy in here or there can be meat, not both.”

“We might need a second fridge,” Bucky observed quietly, watching Penny drop a couple of deli bags with sandwich meat onto the ground before she started shuffling everything into different places within the cooler. “We could keep it in the shed?”

“No room,” Steve shook his head absently, “garage?”

Penny had collected a stack of items from the fridge and piled them onto the counter, not even bothering to look back on the soldiers as she began puttering around. The open-faced cabinets on the walls held mostly dishes and containers filled with ingredients and she ducked down, opening the lower cabinets and digging out several pans.

“Do you… do you want a hand, doll?” Bucky asked hesitantly after several moments, watching her collect ingredients and tools and turn on the stove.

“No.”

“Penny—”

“Can I make lunch please?” She whipped around, an irritated look on her face and a spatula in hand, looking like she was about to use it to beat them both, “I’m hungry and I want to die, I figure you’ll only allow me to fulfill one of those wants so can you let me cook?”

The next thing she knew, Penny had been swept up into Bucky’s arms. The solider looked confused, lips curled in frustration but his brow furrowed with dismay. She stiffened at the action when he stomped back to the couch and sat down roughly, dropping her over his knees and landing a smarting blow to her ass through her shorts without warning.

“Thirty for this fucking attitude,” he barked, yanking the shorts down until the waistband settled under the curve of her ass against the tops of her thighs, “count.”

A sharp inhale followed the first skin to skin hit and Penny snarled in response, “one.”

“Apologize,” Steve’s fingers tangled into her hair, extracting the hair tie and letting the curls fall in chaotic waves over her shoulders and face.

“Two,” she counted dutifully and angrily, narrowed eyes landing on Steve’s face, “I’m sorry you’re a fucking monster!”

“That just added ten more, Penny,” Bucky sighed through gritted teeth, “you better reign it in.”

“You better just kill me,” she rasped, nails digging into his leg where she was holding on for balance through the hits, “because I won’t reign it in. I’m sick to death of you motherfuckers—Oh, fuck, three!”

“No cursing during punishments, start from one,” Steve ordered darkly, the hand in her hair pulling taught as he glanced into Bucky’s eyes—the baffling combination of anger and dismay and loss in the brunet’s eyes let him know he wasn’t the only one scrambling.

“Fuck you!” Penny shook her head roughly as if to dislodge his hand, canting her head to the side the best she could manage to look him in the eye, “beat me black and blue, I don’t fucking care. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter anymore! Nothing fucking matters.”

content warnings: spanking *edit, addition content warning: disrespectful terminology for Jewish people 

[wangxiandecoded]

Episode 3

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(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

Seeing Lan Zhan For The First Time

Ever since I saw the fanmade romcom trailer of the show, I can’t get the image of bridegroom Lan Wangji out of my head. His entry is so elegant and his presence throughout the show truly ethereal. (Wei Ying, you’re not even trying to hide those heart eyes. We get it! You’re impressed.)

Lan Zhan’s Character Growth

We only remember Lan Zhan as the guy who reserved all his emotions and smiles for Wei Ying, so rewatching the rigid, inflexible person he used to be kind of drives me crazy. Lan Zhan before he met Wei Ying started his journey as a lone, icy, untouchable snow-capped peak and by letting himself love and be loved by Wei Ying in return, the person he becomes in the end is like a warm, summery mountain shining with life and no trace of the glaciers that thawed over. His character evolution is no joke and it is only because Wei Ying’s companionship makes him more human and allows him to be the best version of himself. Lan Zhan’s arc is one of the best things in the show and the most rewarding reason to watch it.

Did I Just Meet The LOML

Lan Zhan taking note of his future soulmate showing off his intelligence right from the start. But shhh, he’s too much of a tsundere to admit that right now.

But Lan Zhan, What About The 9pm Curfew? 

Notice how Lan Zhan is up late at night waiting for Wei Ying, like a Good Obedient Boy from the Lan clan ready to catch a lawbreaker red-handed. Are we sure he has not simply mistaken his positive feelings for annoyance and found a way to spend more time with Wei Ying?

Wei Ying, my bro, I think you might be the moon in this case.

Flirting With The Law Enforcer? That’s One More Violation! 

It’s cute to watch their dynamics in the beginning, Wei Ying is already so familiar with Lan Zhan, tries to share his drink with him, teases him for the first of many times. And Lan Zhan just looks like “?????? Are you flirting with the law enforcer?! That is yet another violation of the Lan clan rules!”

Wei Ying coquettishly pushes Lan Zhan's sword into its sheath and the chase that comes next is the beginning of something monumental and exciting. 

(I understand preserving the original meaning is difficult in English translation but they really had Wei Ying call Lan Zhan inflexible only to follow it up with a beautifully choreographed fight sequence? Really?)

Wangxian’s First Meeting Is Romantic Cinematography At Its Finest

This scene right here is in my opinion, the most romantic scene to ever exist in all of fiction. If anyone tries to argue that Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are best bros, show them this scene. There is no hetero explanation for why it is so romantically shot. We have seen it countless times in fairytales. This is unmistakably the meeting of two people destined to be in love forever. It stole my breath the first time I saw it, and has done every time since. Like legit, it needs to be on top of those lists that boast the most iconic meetings in romantic history and taught in academic institutions worldwide.

First of all, a moonlit first meeting is enough to immortalize a story in our memory as being inherently romantic. But Wangxian are so effortlessly and picturesquely sword fighting (or should I say dancing?) on the rooftops, hair and clothes gently swaying to the tune of WuJi and thanks to the slow-motion closeups that make them glow like a live painting under the moonlight. 

(And surely I was not the only one who heard this random bell ringing at night and got reminded of wedding bells or the film ‘Your Name’? Lol!)  

We see that neither of them has the upper hand in the fight. This is important because it establishes they were born to be each other’s equals on the battlefield, something Zewu Jun points out later. (Just one of the many soulmate things Wangxian share.) I have no doubt Lan Zhan is freaking out wondering, who the fuck is this guy? How can he match my every strike and step without even uncapping his sword? 

In these above shots, there is a beautiful, unmissable symmetry in the way they are framed that drives it home that they are two halves of the same whole; their paths will be bound together, their perspectives will come to reflect each other. They are one and the same. The way they fight is also kind of intimate and very poetic. The super romantic backdrop and their placement shows that they are in perfect tandem and their chemistry is loud and luminous from the first time they meet. 

There is nothing straight about this scene. Not even the shot angle. Look! 

There is also something quite god-like and celestial about their meeting, like we are witnessing two prophesied immortal beings whose encounter is going to change the fate of the universe. And does it not, indeed?

I think I heard the moon longingly sigh in this scene because she felt so single. Honestly, understandable. It’s so maddening how two soulmates meeting for the first time can turn out to be this iconic, beautiful, brilliant, breathtaking and every other word you can think of. (We’re lucky Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan are used to dancing, the fight sequences are all so graceful. *chef’s kiss*)

I feel like this one scene reduced every straight romance I’ve ever seen to ashes. I’m honestly curious, can anyone outdo this in the future, gay or not? It has become The Standard for first meetings. I envy the talented, creative minds that envisioned and executed it.

TL;DR : The whole scene is drenched with a romantic field of vision meant specifically for the audience to swoon over.

“Lan Zhan!”

Wei Ying drops one of his two precious pots of Emperor’s Smile because Lan Zhan attacked them. Most people would just be mad in this situation but it's the first time Wei Ying calls him "Lan Zhan”. I wonder what led Wei Ying to have such an informality with Lan Zhan, who didn't consider him his friend until much later. It could be that it’s just who they are, two people with opposite personalities. But we don't see Wei Ying exhibit this closeness with strangers and yet he's whining Lan Zhan's name in that classic style of his, right from the first night they meet. Adorable! (Lan Zhan who owes him two bottles of Emperor’s Smile for breaking them spends the rest of his life buying them for Wei Ying.. In case you needed a reason to cry.)

Breaking The Rules & Breaking The Barriers To Lan Zhan’s Heart

Wei Ying actively criticizes the Lan clan’s rules and finds their teaching unreasonable. He thinks drinking Emperor’s Smile when he’s sitting on the roof technically doesn’t count as being “inside” the Cloud Recesses where alcohol is banned. A small detail but it shows Wei Ying’s gift of seeing through the grey areas in morality. It is a trait that ultimately influences Lan Zhan to shed the hard and fast ideas of orthodoxy he was raised on and share Wei Ying’s quest for justice. This makes both of them the only people inside the world of The Untamed who are able to see the deep-seated problems in the existing system and question them. Their love story is inextricably tied with rewriting the laws of their world and if that does not make The Untamed the most revolutionary romance to ever exist, I don’t know what does. 

Lan Zhan Really Just Cares A Lot

Turns out Lan Zhan didn’t let the Yunmeng Jiang clan stay out in the dark after all. Love how he’s Gay Gripping his sword in panic and backing away from Wei Ying because he doesn't want him to know he's a good person whose heart is in the right place. You know, because that's a horrible reputation for his tsundere persona to have. Zewu Jun takes one for the team and blows his cover, which becomes a common occurrence in the show. Wei Ying is also quick to apologize to him like, “I had a good feeling about you!” when we’ve seen he rarely does that with disciples from other clans. 

President In Action

The conversation between Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun needs no analysis and the latter’s triumphant smirk in the end when Lan Zhan walks off is all the evidence you need that He Knows What’s Up. I love how Zewu Jun probably sits around like, "I have to personally do something or my dumbass brother is going to spend his whole life alone, when he's clearly met his soulmate and is too blind to admit it." Thank you, President of the Wangxian club. We do not deserve you.

What Did Wei Ying Mean?

Wei Ying says all the female suitors from all the clans admire Lan Zhan without knowing how cold and rigid he really is, and he doesn’t complete his sentence because Lan Zhan uses the silencing charm on him. What did he mean by this? What were you going to do, Wei Ying?! 

Episode 3 gives us insight into the inception of their romance and we see every moment since the beginning has been tailor-made to tell the audience this is going to be a love story set against fantasy-driven, action-packed odds in ancient China.