#also i need therapy shits been super fucking rough

[enevera]

sorry abt the complaining tonight i have a headache and ibuprofen did jack shit so im like a little irritable

[snowflakesincalifornia]

I couldn’t reblog the og post bc ig Tumblr’s ruined the code, so this is a copy of it. Please give credit to the og posters.

milf-percy

It dosen't really matter that Percy isn't hurt by Annabeth insulting him all the time and sometimes even being physically violent to him(he should be because that's a realistic response from an abuse and bullying survivor but i digress),not just because he's a fictional character and not a real person with free will,but also because that's Annabeth's way of showing she fucking hates him.Her treatment of him has literally not changed since they were 12 yet nobody in this dumbass fandom can shut up about how ~developed~ their relathionship is cause they make out now and are planning on having a dysfunctional cishet marriage while trashing the characters of color for being 'annoying'.

Percy and Annabeth are not 'made for eachother' because Rick wrote everyone in-universe as telling them that and i'd like to remind y'all that this is the same guy who wrote Luke,an adult serial abuser and ped0phile,as a 'hero' because of the Great Prophecy.Destiny means jack shit and Annabeth and Percy-ESPECIALLY Percy,who's been doomed to trauma over and over again despite his best efforts to escape it-should've been allowed to choose who to love instead of having it shoved down their throats by both everyone in their franchise and the creepy weirdos in the fandom too

@southasianpercy

chaoticcerise

Hi! As someone with ADHD who's been in several abusive relationships before, I figured I'd add something about why it IS actually realistic that he doesn't appear hurt, but that's actually even more alarming. So it starts with meeting them (obviously) and especially if they don't really have any healthy romantic IRL relationships to compare it to (which the books go out of their way to emphasize that this is the case) then it can be really hard to notice when red flags like that start to come up. "Oh it'll get better!" "They're still adjusting to it!" All of which are valid! There's healthy relationships that start rough and there's relationships that start really well and then something happens that doesn't go super well and it turns bad real quick. I've been in a few of both. The problem comes when it still happens after they're asked to stop, which is what happens in Percy Jackson. This can lead to things like "Oh they're just kidding, surely they don't mean it!" "Oh that's just how they flirt/show they love me!" Which, again, is fine IF IT'S WELCOME. However if it's not then eventually it's "Oh they're just like that." "Oh it's fine I guess, it's not like I can stop it." Just because someone doesn't complain doesn't mean that they're consenting. It means they're resigned to the abuse. And that means that he's internalizing and normalizing it. "We don't hear any real negativity towards Annabeth in Percy's thoughts though!!!" Well no but we don't hear any love either. We don't ever hear any thoughts about her really ever. Nothing about how pretty she is or how cool she is or anything. Percy Jackson has thoughts about EVERYONE. As someone with ADHD, this level of no thoughts is concerning and no basis for a relationship. He deserves someone who will treat him well. She deserves someone who thinks about her fondly. Both of them deserve better but they both need to undergo some character development and serious therapy first.

[thatfilthyanimal]

tw: stalking, grooming, pedophilia, sexual abuse, past suicidal thoughts

I've recently been made aware that Dupsy is still talking about me and is now going to random Megamind fans that don't know me and telling them to avoid me. I'm also aware that they're doing this in the Ruby Gillman fandom. I have no words to really describe the level of discomfort this brings me, but I will attempt.

First of all, all the "grooming" allegations were thoroughly debunked and proven to be bullshit. I can't believe I have to even say this. I'm a victim of grooming and sexual abuse myself. It's extremely traumatic and life-altering shit, and never something I would want to inflict on someone else. I feel like it should be obvious, with the measures I took in the server to ensure no child is exposed to such things. I was recently diagnosed with PTSD due to the shit that happened to me when I was growing up, and between processing that in therapy sessions and stomaching transitioning in a near-constant hostile-to-trans-people online social media hellscape, I am tired.

I love Megamind, more than anything, and this is known and obvious to anyone who's met me. This movie saved my life when I was extremely suicidal and planning to end my life back in 2010. Watching the movie when I did gave me something to focus on, a distraction, and a responsibility as a fandom member that helped distract me long enough to get out of the planning mindset I was in. Had I not seen the movie, I do not think I would have stuck around. I will leave it at that.

And moderating fandom spaces for Megamind has been lovely! I adore this fandom. The people in it are extremely talented and sweet, and just so damn nice, like by default. I say this all the time but I've never experienced another fandom space quite like it. There are usually bad eggs in fandoms, and perhaps -I- am said "bad egg" to some, but genuinely this one is special. I have always felt that way, even when the bad eggs show up and make a stink. It has always felt worth being here for, to me.

And while I hate to give Dupsy the satisfaction of knowing they hurt me, I need to be honest-- it's been rough. I stopped talking in my server, I locked up on most of my friends and stopped talking even in DMs. I still struggle with severe anxiety in the server and have talked to Dal on various occasions about transferring the server ownership to him. He's been very patient with my freakouts and super understanding, but it's still hard. This WAS a place I felt safe, for over ten years! And now it feels like any minor can just say I'm a groomer or a pedo or whatever with ZERO consequences, just because they're mad, just because these are words that make people go "oh shit" and listen, and man! It's not ok! And this coupled with the fact that trans people are often called groomers just for existing, just… man! I'm tired. I'm so tired.

There are real, severe, damaging effects to these claims being thrown around so casually. It's hurtful to me, as a victim of sexual abuse, because when I came forward to people about what happened when -I- was a minor, I was told I "wanted it" and "asked for it". It was made to be my fault that I was abused, and I internalized it for years. It nearly killed me. I cannot stress enough how important it is to not use claims like pedophilia and grooming so lightly-- these are VERY damning terms to use on people and should be reserved for people ACTUALLY HARMING OTHERS. Being mad I banned you from the server is not "abuse" and using my Customer Service Voice to be nice to you and then being obviously tired of you when you were banned is not "emotional grooming". What the actual fuck. ALSO. This was well over a year ago! Why am I still having to post about this? Why are you still TALKING about me? And yet again I ask, where the HELL are your parents?

Anyway, if you've been wondering why I've been so quiet these days and struggling to socialize… honestly? It's this. I hate that this is what did it. I know people trust and believe me, I know the fandom backs me up regularly and I appreciate them all so much for it. I see it, but I never know how to respond. You guys continue to make this fandom feel safe for me even when my entire brain is screaming to run, and I appreciate you so much for it.

Kids deserve to be trusted when they tell people they've been hurt and I hate that the recent proshipping discourse or whatever you want to call it, this culty all-or-nothing shit, has a bunch of minors growing up feeling like EVERYTHING is something to call rapey or predatory, with apparently little room to distinguish when REAL abuse is happening to them. I don't blame anyone for believing Dupsy, and it's honestly better they DO believe all unproven claims of abuse by default, just to stay safe-- but man, it has consequences that follow people, and really should not be a thing to just throw around because you're mad at someone. I just can't believe they're STILL going around and reaching out to strangers telling them to avoid me… like, what the fuck.

I will be ok, I always am eventually, but I needed to say something, because it's honestly been a while since I've said much of anything.

Keep being kind. <3

[savnofilter]

Makeup Sex HCs

-> dabi/t. todoroki, s. todoroki, e. kirishima & k. bakugo

Dabi | Shouto Todoroki | Eijiro Kirishima | Katsuki Bakugo x [GEN]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, makeup sex. 🧍🏽‍♀️

COUNT: 1.1K words [1-3 mins each].

READ MORE: masterpost + [students | bakugo | adults masterlists]

A/N: ive been wanting to write this for a hot min and now i finally did sjdjsjdn anyways this will be my last nsfw work for students. pretty anti-climatic but 🤷🏽‍♀️ i will be releasing the rest of my sfw stuff for them somewhere else so stayed tuned for that. 👀 ANYWAYS I AM SAUR READY FOR THE DABI CONTENT IM GONNA BUST 🥰 THANK YOU ANON AND HAPPY YEAR YALL. 🤢🤟🏽🤟🏽🤟🏽

if its serious & Dabi knows hes fucked up, hes gonna force himself to talk about it.

don't think that he’ll be mature 100% but he will communicate with you.

is a little manipulative (don't come at me we know he ain't at therapy) and might divulge to get into your good graces once again.

makeup sex with Dabi entirely depends on how serious he finds the situation.

if it's something super serious (to him) then he will not go for sex and will not want to be touched physically like at all. comfort wise too.

but when it's something where all you two need to do is properly communicate, he's actually more empathetic. you could almost say the makeup sex between you when this happens is more… intimate.

if submissive!Dabi is something you like, here he is!

don't expect him to go full on tho, he’ll just relinquish a bit more of letting you take control as a form of apologizing.

[+] only you have been able to see him in such a position… you better be thrilled.

gets more needy tho? the audacity… if you love brats there here he is.

tries to say stuff to throw you off, shit like if you're teasing him he'll say something along the lines of, “stop playing and come sit on my cock, doll.” or “look at you slobbering all over my dick, you greedy XYZ.”

a little whiney about it too, has no shame whatsoever, though.

if he's the one giving you head, it's very messy and sloppy like he's making out with your nether regions. his goal is to have you c(um)e undone and having you surrender your thoughts to him.

when you two actually get to fucking though, it's really rough and grabby at first. it's as if you two are trying to fight each other whilst also attempting to one up another in pleasure.

very much a lot of rough thrusting, pinning, bite marks, hickies and hand prints galore.

then it soothes out—once all the pent up energy is exerted you two transition into a more, and this is where I talked about earlier, intimate love making.

mumbling apologies, a teary eye if you manage to make eye contact with each other and soft mutterings of how good it feels.

it's like a rollercoaster ride of high and low emotions, the end result being the balance of both.

probably the same kind of style as Dabi.

honestly it wouldn't be surprising if the root of the makeup sex being unresolved things, as in the inner conflicts that you two don't even address.

quiet aggression waiting for its release between you two.

makeup sex would be more like a week or a few days after, where you two are probably having a normal session but then the pent up and forgetting energy comes up and gets released during the deed.

Todoroki grips you way more often and holds you close as if you might disappear in one second.

uses a lot of his hands and probably toys too to let out his pent out anger.

will have you bonded up so he can freely do what he needs to do with having to keep his attention divided by keeping you down and pleasuring you.

a ton of words of affirmation here, both you and him.

that's how it normally is, but he throws in some endearing terms a lot more this time around.

“that feel good, baby?” “who makes you feel good like this?”

his attention is solely focused on you and not so much his.

will probably edge you until the point where you both need to climax as he enjoys seeing you tear up and beg for him.

the makeup sex was probably about jealousy if we're being honest here.

Todoroki is just so emotionally constipated but he doesn't know how else express it.

is definitely working on it though.

probably the most emotional out of them lol.

Kirishima is the type to cry and be a mess, super emotional and empathetic.

isn't doing crazy positions or trying to rough you up, unintentional or not.

very much, “I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry” sort of attitude 😭

feel like when thinking of Kirishima, since he has this hidden, passive aggressive side that it'd transmute into rough handling but no I think he'd let all his barriers down for something like this.

would probably get rougher near the ending tho, like harder thrusts and more bite marks.

he wants to be in your good books again and is doing his best to be that again.

everything is sloppier too, just pure rawness tbh.

the makeup session may take place a few hours later or a day later, if it doesn't then that's how you know it's something serious that can't just be mended with a bit of physical bonding.

so in a way when you two make up like this, Kirishima feels grateful because of the unspoken common rules in your relationship.

he puts his all in to make sure that even with your disagreements he still loves you a lot. :’)

surprisingly so, i honestly believe makeup sex with this man would be soft.

it's passive aggressive at most, the only thing being harsh is the rough grip here and there or a little taunting whisper every so often.

lots of eye contact and just admiring you under him.

likes to be on top so he can shield you from everything else in the room and wants your attention all on him.

make up sex with him is smothering in the way that it's like he's trying to mold himself into you and only you.

doesn't care about what you guys fought about or disagreed earlier, he's more or so focused on the connection this will bring.

Bakugo is more quiet during this time, not really saying much but lets a few noises slip by every so often.

if he does talk, it's not very loud or aggressive, more of check ins like, “you okay?” “you like it when I XYZ?”

it's like Bakugo is treating you in a fragile manner, not wanting to shatter you or startle you. :’)

this is one of the times where his energy level isn't on 1000.

ALSO HAND HOLDING FOR SURE.

prefers to mostly do positions where he can see your face too, wants to make sure you're okay.

he's very mellow and the sort of energy is needed for the mending between you two.

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[sillystardew]

I haven't seen this before but I thought it was a cute idea, so if you like it i'd love to see it written

My prompt is the farmer being good with kids and genuinely enjoys spending time with Jas, so they agree to keep an eye on her when Shane is out of town for therapy or something (and for sone reason Marnie can't).

Cue Shane coming back and seeing Jas curled up on top of the farmer, both of them asleep on the couch after watching a movie or in a blanket fort or something, and Shane instantly having a "Fuck, I love them" moment.

The scenario could take place while they're dating, already married, or while they're still friends and this is the moment he realizes he's in love with them, i'll leave that up to you.

I'm usually an angsty mf living for the pain but tbh I just want Shane to be happy lol

Thank you!!

AGHH yes i love this prompt!! I think i saw it once or twice over on Ao3, its such a cute one!!

Gender neutral reader 🦇

-Shane spends a lot more time with Jas than he did before he started going sober, which now includes picking her up from school and hanging out with her on the weekends and during festivals

-He wants to make sure this kid has a good life. She had a rough start, and he doesn’t want to be another reason for her to feel miserable.

-so, when the day comes that Marnie’s busy and he can’t take care of her, he’s a little stumped.

-normally he would have left her with Vincents mom, but he knows she’s busy today, so who else can help take care of her?

-Well.. the farmer’s not too busy today, right? Maybe she can hang out on the farm? After all, she always talks about all the pretty plants the farmer is growing.

-He asks her, and Jas is ECSTATIC. Jas was super shy when she first met the farmer, but now she loves talking about all the fun things they do and how she wishes she could hang out with them. And now she CAN?!

-She’s hopping and skipping the whoooole way there.

-He knows you wouldn’t do anything stupid with a kid around, so he trusts you to watch her while he heads into the city for his therapist appointment.

-He decides he’s probably going to pick something up in the city to bring back for you two, like food or a game

-anyway! You and Jas are gonna have so much fun :))) I imagine she probably likes to make jewelry (kandi-style or rainbow loom!) so you guys can just hang out at the house and make cute little crafts

-She really likes movies, so you also watch a few of those. You aren’t really sure how long Shane will be gone, so you pick out quite a few

-You two eventually fall asleep on the ground in front of the tv, surrounded by blankets, pillows, and any other soft thing you could find. Your pet is curled up right alongside you two in a big cuddle pile :)

-When Shane gets back and nobody answers the door, he guesses you probably took her out to explore somewhere. He knows you keep the door unlocked though, so he walks in to set down the things he bought, and-

-Oh. My. God.

-He thinks he can feel his pupils dilate when he sees you two passed out on the floor in a little puddle of blankets. Is he crying? Are those tears?

-Takes a moment to compose himself - he literally can’t handle how adorable this is. Why is his heart fluttering? What is going on??

-He turns the tv down since it’s still running, and in the process accidentally wakes up Jas, who immediately glomps him.

“Uncle Shane!!”

“Yoba, kid, keep it down!”

-Her jumping around wakes you up, obviously

-He immediately starts thanking you and apologizing for taking so long

-You’re like, half asleep. You dont process any of it

-after you wave them off and they start heading home (with Jas rambling the whole way about what you two did) he kind of just feels a dawning “oh, shit.”

-lets just say he didn’t get the recommended hours of sleep that night

(If anyone wants this turned into a proper fic and not just this bulletin-style type of writing, let me know! Im thinking of starting an Ao3 account for a shane fic I’ve been working on, so I need other things to post on there too ❤️)

[potionio]

15 questions, and no tags oops

Thank you for @druidberries for tagging me!! I needed something to do tonight so I v much appreciate it LMAO. Also i probably won’t be tagging anyone,  so if you read this and go ‘’aw shit I want to do this’’ i tagged you. I booped your WHOLE NOSE.

Are you named after anyone? Dead name? Nope! I do however have my mothers name as my middle-name! Out  of my chosen names I sure am and that’s a mystery I’m taking to the grave.

When was the last time you cried? Today, therapy was rough : )

Do you have kids? Nope! And I for SURE should not have them most likely, esp not now. Jury’s still out on them in the future but I am very horrified of the concept of pregnancy. Did become an auncle (see what i did there) at like- 9? So my niece and nephew have been raised as siblings to me-  do have a nephew who just turned 2 as well : ) !

Do you use sarcasm a lot? My friend group is sarcastic bastards who lovingly insult each other tbh

What sports do you play/have you played? I was super sporty as a child before I got asthma from mold,  SO uhh- Handball, dabbled in land-hockey, did some horse-back riding. Fucked around with badminton, also some forced football. Probs more bcs I LOVED fucking around and finding out in sports as a kid.

What’s the first thing you notice about other people? Trauma says height and body-strength baby. (also, hands. I don’t process faces super well but I do remember hands incredibly well if they stand out) Eye colour? BLUE. SO BLUE.

Scary movies or happy endings? See, I’d say Scream has BOTH. But I enjoy both forreal, depends on the day. I watch horror movies to chill so.

Any special talents? Uhh... I can draw eyes real good?

Where were you born? Stockholm, Sweden- because we can’t all have fortune in life.

What are your hobbies? Video games, video essays, art, history and religion uhh- honestly I have probs a lot of small things that have just become hobbies at this point. TTRPG’s is my BIGGEST one tho.

Do you have any pets? I have the dumbest dog named Frasse who probs will eat his own tiny stubby legs one day and the grumpiest bitchiest primadonna cat named Sunny. I’d die for both of them.

How tall are you? See, depends on if you ask my ID or my doctor <3 I’m 5′2 but my ID says 5′3 and it’ll stay that way.

Fave subject in school? I was a history and religious nerd all the fucking way. Also really enjoyed Chemistry!

Dream job? If I could tell you this I would probs be able to figure out wtf I want to study. Currently looking into getting a degree in archeology, something w culture and people probs? Or  religion?  Idk.  Growing up I wanted to be a mortician  (or medical examiner) or a marine biologist for the longest time!  Did go into game design instead :  ) !

[tjsplace]

aug 26

4.55 pm

i can't stop listening to the same ep over and over again today. boy by luke hemmings. it fits the mood. i haven't been super depressed, but i've been sick with a cold. it's super annoying and of course because of my fibromyalgia, it hurts me more than other people. but whatever. today therapy was rough though. i made the exercise of recalling all the traumatizing events that led to my first suicide attempt. i cried, so much. it felt like i had a whirlwind inside my head and i couldn't see clearly. i felt like a horse with blinkers. yesterday i was sad because i felt like a failure in my career. my mom told me over and over again i'm talented. i wanna believe her. but what if i'm not? what if i'm not all the things she says i am? i'm not obsessive with music production. am i? i literally have no idea. it's because i spend maybe 1 to 2 hours a day on ableton. sometimes. a few times a week. sometimes every day. it depends on what i have to do. but i don't know, it doesn't feel like a hobby yet. it feels like work. because i'm not talented enough to not get frustrated when my songs don't work. it's the sounds, the mix. structurally i'm good. lyrically, eh. maybe. i don't play guitar super well because i don't practice enough. it's my stupid hand injury from two years ago. i gotta warm up every single time i gotta pick up a guitar, for ten minutes. it's annoying. i just wanna listen to music. today, right now, i'm sick and i'm high. i bought two grams. i hadn't bought any weed in over a week. maybe therapy today was too tough for me. also, it was online. i couldn't bring myself to my therapist's office. too tired. too much snot. i wanna write about leon and salem, but mar hasn't given me permission to write salem yet. i don't wanna overstep her boundaries. i know it's her character. i didn't create it, she did. i wish i could write her in a way that made mar proud. a version of a similar salem maybe. my own perspective on salem. maybe i should tell her that.

6.24 pm

i'm so overwhelmed with emotion right now. listening to i'm still your boy feels surreal when i'm high and watching videos from california. being at the beachwood café. laurel canyon. west hollywood. when i went to the recording studios. westlake, eastwest, sunset sound and henson. they all said i needed an appointment to check out the place if i was planning on recording there. i was like, i'm from chile, this is my last day here, i can't make an appointment. i said only half of that. i went to do that too late. but i couldn't do it the other day, when we went to disneyland and i had a panic attack. i went back to the inn, took a shower, went to an atm in a grocery store, bought a joint. got high, took a nap and went to visit inglewood. it was really cool. then i went to buy makeup at ulta beauty in west hollywood. maybe i should do yoga, i'm all contractured. my neck, my back. i haven't done yoga in ages. my mat is probably all dirty. i'm sick. why do i want to do things that are good for me just when i'm sick? like, what the fuck.

6.52 pm

i'm getting anxious now. i know it when i feel like i absolutely must talk to someone, tell them everything, otherwise i'll lose my mind. i don't know if i got into a fight with mar. shit. maybe i shouldn't have written her long messages explaining why i thought writing about leon and salem would be a good idea. and that i understand if she doesn't want me writing salem in any way. which is totally valid. and now she's not replying, she's most likely busy, and i NEED to talk this out with someone.

[the-duckless-pond]

Well, all done. Litter box in the bedroom has been cleaned, and I will do the living room one tomorrow. I also made my cup of decaf and brought it to the couch and now I’m curled up while my cat Boo gets comfortable on my lap. When I’m done with my coffee I’ll carry her to bed and we will tuck in and maybe watch a show like that. I’ve been trying to watch this show for days and there are only like 4 hours of episodes and I intend to binge it in one go. It’s probably getting to be too late to do that tonight, but I might try anyway. It’s just hard for me to relax enough to watch a show when I am afraid of being startled by the buzzer in the afternoons. And it happens anywhere between 3 and 5pm, sometimes a little later.

It didn’t happen today that I know of. I was out from 3 to 3:45 with mom, but I’ve been home ever since. Not one buzz. Maybe shouting through the intercom worked? God, that’d be a miracle. I’ve been practicing what to say through the intercom for when it happens again, but… if it just… didn’t? That would make me so happy. Maybe I’d be able to relax. I’ve also been thinking of how I could word this to management if I have to get them involved. Something about it interfering with my quiet enjoyment of my rental property, along with the documentation that it is a disability to prove that I am entitled to the same rights as other tenants. I hope I don’t have to go that far, but I absolutely will. I can see this being a real issue for me, and I will not hesitate to involve management and be a huge fucking Karen about it. I refuse to live in fear. So far the buzzing has triggered several panic attacks, which is not ideal. Prior to this and the kids triggering them at the old place, I only had panic attacks once or twice a quarter. Super rare. But not anymore until they stop buzzing me, I guess.

Well, first things first. Get printer from old place. Set up here. Open laptop. Type up list of things to say if they buzz me. Tape by intercom. That way I’m prepared. I’ll try reasoning with them first, and if that doesn’t work then I will escalate. I hope I don’t have to because so far I like it here and I would like to not bother anyone, but I will if I have to. I deserve to be comfortable too, you know? I deserve to feel safe. Right?

It’s starting to get chilly in here. I think I’ll wrap myself in the blanket for a little bit while I drink my decaf (after it cools). I also unpacked the couch stuff today, like my stuffed animal friends for it and the throw pillows and the blanket. Oh. I might need to top off the cats’ food before I get in bed. Should I do that now? I don’t want to forget. My memory has been so shit ever since the kids startled me. Ugh. I hope that stops soon. Maybe once I have my anxiety meds back. I just hope the time between filling them and getting them passes quickly.

I am running out of things to say, but I don’t want to be done talking yet. I’m just so fucking lonely without anyone to talk to. But I have no social skills to make friends with, and my anxiety has been too bad to use chat services lately. I’m going to stay using chat services once I get my meds, that’s for sure. I can practice my languages that way. Win win.

I know if I tell my therapist I’m lonely he will tell me to leave the house. I maintain that I don’t need to. All of my hobbies satisfy me. It’s just that everyone I talk to decided to stop talking to me all at once, and now it feels like I have no one. I probably couldn’t go somewhere new if I tried, anyway. It’s been rough. I don’t know. I probably won’t tell him. I still don’t really trust him yet. It’s been maybe a year since I started seeing him, but I don’t trust him not to leave me like Brenda left me. I guess that would be worth talking about in therapy, but I don’t trust him so I can’t. It’s a whole thing.

Ding ding ding! Timer done! Decaf ready to drink. I’ve been typing this for 20 minutes now, wow. I guess I really know how to ramble, huh? Oh well. No one reads these anyway. I guess I’ll set this post aside while I drink and come back to it when I am done. Back soon!

————

I’m back! I only had half my decaf. I wanted to finish it, but I got super lonely and wanted to keep talking, too, so I decided to be done for the night. I took my water cup out of the dishwasher and put it on the drying rack, so I can go grab that and wipe it dry if I end up staying awake for a while and get thirsty. Then, I took my medicine. Blah. Not all of it. I had two sleeping pills and two antipsychotics to take. I dropped the sleeping pills down the sink by accident, so those are out. Then one of my APs went flying out of the package. I found it after looking and successfully took both APs, thankfully. I wish I could have had the sleeping med too, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be tonight. Usually I take it way earlier in the day, but I haven’t been caring as much without school. I guess I should start working on getting back on my school schedule since there are only like two weeks until the first day. I won’t set an alarm for tomorrow, since I’m fragile tonight, but maybe for the next day. Just see how it feels.

I’ve been waking up decently early here. Any time between 5:30 and 7. A wide range, I know, but I’m not using an alarm right now. I have enjoyed the quiet the few mornings I’ve been up super early, so I have that to look forward to with my alarms.

I wonder if text posts have a character limit. I’ve been typing for thirty minutes total now. I don’t think they do, since I feel like if they did it would be common knowledge. But I might google it just to be safe.

I don’t know, I really and truly am running out of things to say. It’s just.. I’m so lonely, you know? I miss my friends. I miss feeling like I wasn’t a burden to my mom. I wish people spoke to me of their own volition without me having to be the one to initiate. I don’t know. I’m sad thinking about it. I am almost always the one to initiate. With everyone. It’s very depressing when I think about it. Maybe my brain is right. Maybe no one wants to talk to me or be my friend. Maybe i am only good for my stories. Maybe. No one will ever tell me otherwise, so who knows. I miss my friends. I wish they talked to me. I’m not used to feeling lonely, but usually I have at least one person to talk to. I have no one right now. In the middle of a big life change, too. It’s sad. I feel sad.

Great, now I low key want to cry. I won’t be able to, because my AP dulls my emotions and I rarely cry these days. The last time I cried was a few weeks ago when the kids startled me, and that was the first time I had cried in almost a year. It’s frustrating but I’ve adjusted to it by now. I hope it goes away some when I lower the dose at my next appointment. If I can get up the courage to ask. It might take a while. I’ve wanted to for like a year and a half now, it’s just taking some time.

Ugh. Memories are upon me. I might get up and go take tomorrow’s sleeping medicine. Just to be sure I can go to bed on a moment’s notice. I probably shouldn’t do that to my tomorrow self, but like… ugh. These are veering into trauma territory. I don’t want to go there when I am alone and have no one to talk to. I want company for that.

Yeah, I’ll get up and go take it. It’ll be for the best. I’m not tired yet, but I want to be able to close my eyes and fall asleep with ease once I am tired. And besides, Boo is still roaming so she hasn’t settled in yet and I won’t be disturbing her. And I never cjecked their food because I forgot. I’ll go do all that. Brb!

Medicine taken and verified that the girls have enough food and water to last until morning. And then a little. Neither needed to be filled, but it was good to check.

Where was I? Right. Lonely. Maybe. I don’t remember and I don’t feel like scrolling up. It’s s just really hard when everyone suddenly has an issue talking to you. I’m so isolated as it is that losing even one person is like a gut punch. Sigh. It’s all very upsetting. Or, it would be if my emotions weren’t dulled. Mostly I can just distract myself from the discomfort and it’s alright. Not that bad. But then I remember and it hurts. It’d hurt a lot more without my AP, so that’s worth keeping in mind. Sigh. It is what it is, I guess. I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t think there is anything that I CAN do about it. And that sucks. I think I just need to find ways to cope. Writing was a big one for me, but I am struggling with that lately so I need something else in the meantime. I do a lot of staring into space right now. It’s okay I guess. With music, anyway.

I wish Miss Boo would join me for bed. She poked her head into the room and stepped halfway in before turning around. It could be a minute before she is ready for bed. I guess I’ll give her a little bit before I turn off the light. I’m feeling the urge to sleep away my problems, so I might do that soon.

I guess that means it’s time to wrap this up. I’ve been typing for a while now. I lost track of how long. Maybe forty minutes? Something like that.

Good night probably

[janggtoco]

hello <3 sorry i live in asia i think you’re asleep/about to sleep whenever i send asks 😭

how was the cb!! i personally love all the songs on the album. i’m an ass shaker AND depressed so they truly catered to my demographic. my ranking: super - idubilu - fuck my life - fire - dust - april shower (april shower is the only one i’m not CRAZY crazy about really, but i like it still!) what’s your opinion on each song on the album?

being on twitter during this cb is giving me whiplash tbh they’re breaking records and people cheered woohooo then here come [redacted members of a fandom] who are trying to discredit them and saying the vilest most immature shit i’ve seen. i saw one related to bin and i wanted to actually pick a fight but they deleted their account after getting flak. pussy. i’ve been so riled up that i actually started streaming religiously (like i followed the streaming guidelines and all) to drive up views and streams out of spite and sheer pettiness. youtube spotify apple music youtube music YOU NAME IT LMAOOOO they’re truly testing me as a “hag”

and it’s nice to see that you’re going to therapy 🩵 how’s that going for you so far? i hope your therapist is a good fit <3 and know that whenever you feel lonely or that everyone hates you, you have a friend here who will listen n actually likes you (me)!!

have a great week ahead <3 sorry if this was long !

-🐻‍❄️ (can i use that? “hi it’s the same anon from before, the one who likes to check in on you” is getting long 😮‍💨)

lol that's okie! your asks are always a pleasure to wake up to. it's a nice start to my day and makes me smile :3 i hope i do the same for you <3

i love the comeback! personally, this mini is fighting going seventeen for my fave album from them because i enjoy every song to some extent! i cant wait to see the mcountdown performance tbh!! the choreo looks insane and the tiktok challenge is lowkey sadistic 😭 my ranking is idubilu - april shower - fml - dust - super - fire! i really enjoy all of the songs though, fire and super is more of just like.. if i'm running/work out songs for me though lol. idubilu is MY song though. probably my fave song of theirs along with i don't know and good to me like she's THAT girl!!

it's a certain toxic part of a certain fandom that just can't accept the organic growth that svt has... anything svt does is always "well, they wouldn't be this big without [redacted]" or "so funny they think they have global influence like [redacted]".. what's funny is i never cared about streaming but i too started streaming out of spite just bcs they pissed me off so much 😭 they're pretending to be mad over photocards just to discredit the fact the carat fanbase is HUGE and not full of people who will mass buy albums just to throw them away. i may be a hag but at least i have the money to buy albums ! (also sick to hear that they're using bin's name for stupid fanwars. it's really so upsetting to see the lengths kpop stans will go to..)

and therapy is going really well actually 🥺 i really like my therapist and she's been really understanding with everything and opened my eyes on a lot.. it's funny, every week she says "i'm still trying to put the puzzle of you together" because i bring up some new trauma or event every week 😭 but she's so nice and i'll tell her about youtube videos i'm watching and stuff she always gets so excited with me. it's weird going every week but it's definitely needed and it's kind of a nice catch up and to process everything that happened in the past week! and that's so nice anon :((( ngl, your first message came during a really rough and dark day and it was weird just knowing that someone you haven't interacted with cares enough to reach out.. i don't think i properly thanked you but.. thank you :(( your messages help more than i think you even know <3

[uchihabbynic]

Trafalgar Law - Relationship, Intimacy & Sex HC

warnings: NSFW at the end and I definitely got super carried away 😮‍💨 🥵

a/n: I am so obsessed with this man, i just kinda spiraled here so I need others to indulge in this with me 🥺💗 Also, I’d love to hear others’ HC’s of this pretty, grumpy boyyy!

For Law to entertain a romantic relationship to begin with, you’d most likely need to start as childhood friends, crew mates or an ally (being a part of the Strawhats Crew for example). 

He’d appreciate the full package of beauty, brains and strength (beauty being less important but if you happen to be gorgeous AND can hold your own in a fight or have an intellectual conversation with him - you have his heart) 💗

Being in an intimate relationship with Law would mean you’d definitely need to work for it. The first aspect being that you gain his trust because being close/intimate with anyone is terrifying and quite frankly, Law’s scared to get attached to someone. (Poor baby has been through so much loss and trauma that he would need an insane amount of therapy to even begin to unpack all of it). 

Next, you’d prove to him that you’re loyal and supportive till the end. Naturally, he’s going to be apprehensive about being in a relationship and wants to ensure you’re there for the long-haul. He’s not used to all these feelings and romance shit so reassurance will be necessary - especially in the beginning stages.

If Law has a crush on you, don’t think for a second that he’ll speak up about it. He’ll take that shit to his grave UNLESS you’re both put in a life or death situation where he worries that he may never see you again, otherwise - expect to be forward and direct with your feelings for Law if you want things to go anywhere. 

However, beware - because Law would 100% pull the “I’m not ready for a relationship” card & this could be for a number of reasons: #1 being obvious - he’s a well known, highly sought after Pirate who lives a dangerous day to day life and he doesn't know when one day could be his last but #2 there would be some anxiety around just simply being a good partner to you. He knows his trauma has hardened his heart a bit, causing him to come off as a bit cold and closed off but at the end of the day, Law wants to be everything you need him to be. He wants to give you the best but would feel unsure if he’s deserving of you.

Overall, Law would be a great partner to have once you’ve broken down those walls because he’s super level headed, intelligent, cares deeply for his loved ones and will always make you feel protected! Plus, he’s hot as hell - so there’s also that. 

(NSFW)

First of all, you’ll never catch Law fucking a random no matter how much he may wanna get his dick wet. Naturally, he’s not the most horny of the One Piece men, but if the urge hits him, he’ll find some alone time late at night on the Polar Tang to quickly jerk one off before attempting to get some sleep. Basically, committed relationships are the only time he’ll let himself be vulnerable in that way with anyone else. 

 If you’re fortunate enough to be his lover, you will thoroughly enjoy the sex as Law will take such great care of you & leave you wonderfully surprised. Sometimes, you can expect fast, rough fucking where Law overstimulates & abuses your pussy but he’s also someone who enjoys slow, passionate sex as well. In fact, he actually prefers to slow things down as it's like the ultimate, most intimate form of bonding with his partner. 

After a long night in the office, he seeks you out to relieve some built up tension. Law feels like he’s floating on a cloud when he gets to bury himself inside of your glistening folds. You watch his beautiful face contort - slowly crumbling above you, trying to stifle his moans as he bottoms out, savoring how good you feel squeezing around his length. 

Law isn't the kinkiest at first. He’ll start out pretty vanilla until you let him know its ok to spice things up. Medical role play, dumbification (he has a slight superiority complex), and choking (he loves to see his tattooed fingers wrapped around your throat) are all things that would turn the “Surgeon of Death” on.

Doesn’t mind quickies but doesn't really prefer it. He likes to take his time making a mess of you on his cock or fingers. 

Law loves when you ride him - either tracing your fingers over the ink on his chest and or interlocking your fingers with his. Regardless, the Doctor is in for a treat. He’ll enjoy watching your tits bounce in his face, hearing your ass slap against his thighs and even the lewdness of your pussy squelching as you bounce on his cock. As Law looks down and sees the juices of your arousal coat his shaft, at this point - he’s close; whimpering and begging for you to milk him dry. This rewards him with the best combo of visual + physical stimulation so you’ll have him cumming loads in no time. 

Tags: @unsuretater-simp , @hoeronoa-zoro​ ✨❤️

[whirlybirbs]

         (  chapter 6′s gif by @buckysbarnes​​ from this lovely set !  )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  6/?

summary: gunshot wounds, panic attacks, and evil next door neighbors.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.3k, a filler before the real sexual tension.

a/n: be warned, this chapter has a diy medical procedure where bucky removes the slug from rabbit’s shoulder. it’s nothing too graphic, but keep that in mind! also, i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has rec’d, reblogged, commented, kudos, liked, looked at this fic. the response to every chapter has been so overwhelmingly kind and i’m so thankful that i have the oppurtunity to share this fic with you all. that being said, i broke this chapter up. next week has some spice. ;-)

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Bucky wakes up with a headache that feels like someone’s tapped an icepick between his eyes. A fire-bright burn radiates under his ribs.

It’s a slow creep back to reality — he just lays there and stares at the peeling wallpaper that meets the corner of the ceiling for a while, knowing deep in the back of his muddled, confused thoughts that he most likely has a nasty concussion, maybe a few broken ribs.

How? Hm. Fighting. Music? The club.

Rabbit.

He sits up fast and Bucky’s blue eyes struggle to adjust in the low-light of the scarcely furnished apartment. The searing pang of his headache is enough to make his stomach churn, but he’s had worse. So much worse. This is manageable. So, he swallows down the nausea and looks around the room like a wounded animal — and almost immediately, relief greets him at the sight of you in the armchair across from the couch.

Your hair is a mess, falling from it’s previous style that you’d proudly worn to The Glass Cannon. Your lipstick is smeared, there’s glitter on your cheeks, and your make-up has transitioned from starlet beauty to broken-hearted bombshell. Bucky notices, with a bit of dismay, that you’re even missing an earring. There’s a nasty bruise forming along the peak of your cheekbone and a gash there from when Alexei had cracked you across the face with the pistol — and even despite all this, Bucky can feel his heart clench at the sight of you. A good clench. The sort that makes his heart kick into a stutter step.

You look… well, you look like someone who’d had the shit choked out of them and then was shot.

Shot.

Your jacket, punched clean through with the single bullet hole, is hanging over the back of the chair and there’s gauze taped to your shoulder. You’re leaning your good cheek in your hand, attention turned totally to Bucky, where you’ve fallen asleep. From here, you’re a picture of exhaustion.

Anxiety flashes in his heart and he swings his legs over the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

It’s the woman from before, Kiwi, and she’s got an ice pack in her hands. It’s wrapped in a ratty, green dish towel, and she hands it off to Bucky with a pitiful little look. Rounding the couch, Bucky finally gets a better look at her.

She’s older than you, maybe by a handful of years, but sharp and beautiful nonetheless. Her hair is dark as night and the tips are drenched in a lime colored dye. Her eyes are dark, too, ringed by kohl and glitter, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever seen her before.

“You heal quick,” she says quietly as she plops down into the chair across the room. On a makeshift desk, there’s a laptop, “Care to explain how you know our dear friend Rabbit here?”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Again, his eyes fall on your sleeping form.

He maneuvers the ice pack in his hands, then gently presses it to his ribs. He melts a bit, ignoring the evident tears in the silk shirt. He feels bad — he’d busted some of the seams in the midst of the brutal scuffle and it seems like this artifact of Jaimie’s was most likely beyond salvation.

His dog tags jingle against his chest.

“Therapy,” Bucky croaks, “We, uh, we met in therapy.”

A new voice comes into the picture now, one that’s muffled by a mouthful of food.

“That’s cute.”

It’s the other one, Climber. He’s traded in his all-black, all-polyurethane outfit for an expensive looking t-shirt. Without the strobes, without the tunnel vision, Bucky can now see the intricate buzz cut that sits beneath the mountain of blue curls on his head. There are patterns buzzed into his tight-shave. He’s got a smile, too, the glimmers a little too artificially. Bucky spies crystals inset on his incisors between bites of what looks like a bowl of cereal with no milk. Spoon and all.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Climber says as he plops down next to Bucky on the couch, “What’d you say your name was?”

A hand is jutted his way. Bucky blinks. He shakes it with his vibranium hand.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Well, I’m gay and you’re gorgeous,” he says candidly, giving it a good shake, “So, if that’s of any interest—”

“Can you please shut up, Climber?” comes an irritated rasp from you in your armchair. Bucky turns to watch as you raise your head and rub your eyes, “Christ, I just fell asleep.”

“And your little supersoldier just woke up,” Kiwi chirps from her preoccupation with the laptop and contents on it, “So why don’t you stop being a little baby and let him look at that gunshot wound.”

Bucky’s face falls flat. He drops the ice pack to the coffee table with a thwunk.

You sit up, gingerly trying to maneuver yourself so as to not bother both your ribs and your shoulder. It takes a moment, but finally you’re sitting up with only a dull ache of pain throbbing beneath your skin. Now, the real sting comes from the bitter look Bucky has pinned you with.

“You haven’t cleaned it yet?”

“The shits in the kitchen,” Kiwi waves at Bucky, as if to say told you so, “She fuckin’ refused to let me take care of it.”

“You’re going to get an infection if it stays in you any longer,” he snaps, standing to his feet, “Get up.”

“Kiwi isn’t exactly the most gentle person I know,” you manage to supply as an excuse as you move through the room, “And I know that thing isn’t coming out without a fight.”

He can feel the grey hairs coming in already.

You stand slowly, and Bucky looms behind you as you weave into the small apartment’s kitchen.

It’s barely lived in, but a few years ago it most definitely had life. Now, it’s mostly abandoned save for a few necessities. Kiwi had told you, a long time ago, about this spot — it was her parent’s place before the Snap. After the Blip, they ended up moving back to Massachusetts. Now abandoned by anyone seeking to really live in the one bedroom, it sits collecting dust until Kiwi inevitably needs it.

Like now.

“Up on the counter.”

You wince at his tone, but still thankful to be away from Kiwi and Climber’s prying eyes.

For the entire time Bucky had been out, you’d been subjected to a myriad of questions — all were fair, really, since Bucky did just bust out the Avenger-level super-moves on some Russian mafiosos for your sake, vibranium arm and all. The arm was really the biggest stuck point in the conversation as you tried your best to explain the nature of your relationship with the unconscious supersoldier on the couch. It was met with plenty of looks, both curious and skeptical.

You’re slow to hop up on the dusty marble countertop. From there, you watch Bucky poke through the kit that Kiwi had pulled from under the sink.

Then, with the calculated process of a man who has pulled one too many bullets from himself, Bucky slams the kit shut and wanders into the bathroom.

He returns with a pair of large tweezers. He’s silent as the dead as he rummages for a pan, fills it with water, and sets the gas burner on. He stares, watching the pot boil, as his foot taps against the floor.

You swallow down any comments.

There’s a clean towel beside you, and Bucky casually reached into the boiling water with his vibranium hand to retrieve the tweezers — whether or not he purposely ignored the pain is lost on you. You’re too busy anxiously spiraling into silence.

(He’s trying to ground himself, to feel something other than panic. It’s a mild spike, but it’s still panic. Because you’re hurt. Because you still have a fucking casing lodged in your shoulder and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. Because he saw it happen and then it was black, and now that anxiousness is creeping in.)

Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze, tape, and… Jack Daniel’s.

It’s from the top of the fridge. It’s got a layer of dust on it — and it’s unopened.

Bucky unceremoniously pops the cap and hands the open bottle to you.

You take it and pause.

Bucky’s gaze is cold.

“You’re gonna want to take a few swigs, Doll.”

You almost snarl. You take a long drink then, ignoring the burn of the whiskey down your throat. It’s only when you’ve had enough to nearly gag that you hand the bottle back and then hiss:

“Don’t call me Doll.”

He takes the bottle and unceremoniously slams it down on the counter.

His movements are rough as he washes his hands — and if Bucky was a better person, maybe he’d take a second and parse through why he was feeling so damn irritable. But, no, no, he could figure out that he was angry at himself and you and Alexei Gardzov and Innessa Sidrova and fucking… everyone because he can’t have any normal relationships in his life without there being bloodshed or pain or suffering. That was enough, and he didn’t want to dig deeper into the nipping fear of losing you, not now, not when he had a job to do—

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush your collarbone. He gently moves the delicate strap of your bodysuit, ignoring the soft skin beneath, and pulls the gauze away from your shoulder.

Your jacket had taken most of the impact it seems. Bucky frowns deeply at the pink fibers clinging to the entry wound. It’s a nasty puckered bit of flesh, smeared with blood, right in the soft muscle of your left shoulder. The hole is a little smaller than a quarter — Bucky recognizes it as shot from a 9mm almost immediately. He’s taken a few of these in his days. He’s glad it wasn’t close range. The burns from the muzzle flash make for nasty scars. He’d know. He has one on his back, right above his hip.

Bucky’s jaw is tight. He’s gritting his back teeth. His headache throbs angrily behind his eyes.

Bucky leans, eyeing the wound carefully. His limited reaction is enough to spark a little light of bravery in your gut, and you move to look at the hole — only to find a vibranium hand rooting your jaw in place. It’s gentle enough as it recorrects the line of your gaze straight ahead. His thumb rests on the curve of your chin as his index climbs your jaw, and the vibranium is warm and cold all at once. It’s an odd sensation. Not bad, but not flesh.

You like it.

(You find your mind quickly flashing with the thought of what that hand would feel like in other places. You ignore it.)

Your eyes are stuck on Bucky.

He’s clearly upset — the pinch between his brows and the evident scowl on his lips is enough of an indication. The bridge of his nose is busted and there’s a bruise crawling under his left eye. The shirt you’d given him is a wreck, and as he bends to snatch up a rubbing alcohol soaked pad, the feeling of shame creeps up on you. The anxiousness that’s settled in the pit of your stomach doesn’t help.

Arguably, it exacerbates the symptom.

The whiskey is slow to make an impact.

But, when Bucky finally swipes the gauze across the wound, your ankles have begun to tingle and it isn’t blinding white pain you feel — not yet. It’s sharp and it feels like he’s touching your shoulder blade when he presses his fingers into the holes to clean the immediate area. That has you grimacing tightly.

His obsidian-hued hand holds your face still through it.

So, you opt to stare.

His arm reminds you of some pottery you’d seen back at the Museum of Modern Art once, on a school trip. In a dimly lit room, spotlights lit up a row of vases that had been gilded back together with gold-dusted sap. You’d sat there for nearly an hour, staring at those things. You can’t remember the name now, not while Bucky does one more pass across the wound. It started with a ‘k’. It was beautiful. You loved that exhibit. Why can’t you — fuck — remember the name? Kinsi… kinsigumi? Gumi. Kintsi —

You grit your teeth and grip the counter tightly. He pauses. You exhale.

You inhale.

Kintsugi.

The seams of his arm remind you of Kintsugi.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky’s eyes flit to yours. He sees your stare.

Maybe it’s the pain, or the half-cocked daze, but the look in your eyes is enough to spur an immediate reaction. Bucky scowls. He yanks his hand back, retreating to the supplies on the counter. He’s pulled, hard and fast, and now he seems miles away.

Quietly, and with a bit more chill than he intended, he speaks. “If it was making you nervous, you should have said something.”

It.

Your head snaps to him.

“What?” you ask, nearly incredulously.

He’s silent. He has the tweezers in his hand now.

Your eyes narrow critically — and instead of shame and anxiety, it’s hurt that flies off your tongue. It’s drenched in enough pain that Bucky hears it in the waver of your voice.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

It’s nearly a whisper.

He swallows.

He ignores it. He has to. He doesn’t want to know the answer. Either way that conversation goes is enough to drag him into territory he can’t handle right now. Not when he needs to do this without his hands shaking.

“This is going to hurt.”

Your mouth is open — be it shock or anger, he’s not sure. Bucky, however, makes a point of ignoring your expression and your reaction by handing over the whiskey once more. You snatch it from his hands quickly. There’s a look on your face that makes his chest ache. With one last pass over him with your eyes, you take a long swig.

You feel like crying.

You won’t, though. Not now. Not while he does this.

You deserve this.

And holy fucking hell does it hurt. It’s like someone’s taken a hot poker and punctured your skin, then rotated it around and around and around. You can feel every time the tweezers touch the bullet because the metallic little click echoes in your chest. It’s enough to make your head spin, and you grit your teeth and close your eyes and try to breathe — but even after a handful of minutes, when Bucky finally retrieves the slug, there’s no relief. Just a desperate throb.

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the whiskey once more.

You do cry, finally, when Bucky packs the hole.

He rolls the gauze up tightly into a cylinder and, as gently as he can, pushes it in.

It’s a horrible choke of pain that you smother into your palm and pant through. It reminds you to breathe, and while you stare up at the water damage on the kitchen ceiling, Bucky tapes a square piece of gauze over the bruised wound and wraps your shoulder tightly. He takes his time, but there’s a curtness to his actions.

Finally, when he begins to clean up the mess of bloodied gauze, you speak.

“If you’re mad at me, then just say it.”

He snaps almost immediately, like a kicked dog. “And say what, Rabbit? That I almost lost you?”

Your mouth slips shut.

Bucky pauses what he’s doing. He drops the gauze onto the towel and he bares both hands against the counter top. He leans and exhales and drops his own head back — then, you can see his own waves of anxiety knocking him against the shore of composure. His eyes move back and forth, he inhales, and then after a long while he speaks.

It’s calmer. Not so horribly mean.

“You should have told me about Alexei.”

You go to speak — but he stops you.

“I mean really, really told me,” he explains, “Had I known he wanted your fucking head mounted on a spike, I would have kept you far away from that place.”

“We had to—”

“No,” he says sternly, standing up full height, “No, we didn’t. We never have to do anything that’s going to put you in danger. Never. I won’t do it again. You should have fuckin’ told me.”

You’re quiet.

“A few more inches to the right,” he says, gesturing to your throat with his finger. His eyes are expressive and he’s speaking like he’s lived this experience, “You’d be dead. Cold and dead and I’d be here, carrying the fucking guilt around with me because I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

His voice splinters at the end — but he’s moved to throw away the gauze and dump the tweezers in the sink. He can’t look at you as he says it, and you know that. Because, just like before, people like you and him have a hard time looking the truth in the eyes.

You slide off the counter.

Your heart is sad. It’s heavy and mournful and weighed down with guilt.

“Bucky.”

It’s soft. He’s scrubbing your blood from his hands.

He doesn’t turn around. He can’t. He can feel the prick of an anxious breakdown beginning to climb into his eyes. Instead, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and your blood is stuck in the plating of his hand and it’s not going to come out—

Think of what could have happened if it had been a few inches to the right. The arched spray. Blood everywhere. She can’t speak through the gargle, she’s going cold, she’s gone. And, like always, you’re alone again, Bucky.

Then, your hands are on his.

The touch is enough to stop him. It’s enough for him to move aside at the large, inset kitchen sink. You exhale slowly as you run the water a little warmer and gingerly run his hands under the tap. Your hands are smaller than his, a bit more delicate, and he’s stunned into a sharp silence at the feeling of your fingertips gently washing away the crimson blood.

You grab another dish towel from a drawer beside the stove.

Then, in the dim light of the kitchen, you take both his hands and dry them.

It’s the vibranium hand that you pay special attention to, though. And Bucky feels like a fucking idiot — just standing there, just watching as you run the rag between the gilded plating and use gentle pressure to get into the harder to reach spots. You turn it over, and you dry his knuckles.

You take your time.

You don’t look up when you speak. You’re focused. Almost reverent.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say sternly.

His mouth is dry. “Rabbit…”

Bucky shifts on his feet and takes a deep inhale. He feels lightheaded.

The whiskey, and the closeness of the two of you, makes your skin warm. His whole nervous system feels like it’s on fire.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I don’t ever mean to,” you apologize as your hands still over his arm. He watches your irises trace the plating above his wrist. The rag is forgotten, its purpose null. Your words are heavy, and Bucky can hear a little shake in them as you swallow, “I just… think it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Even now, blood-soaked and sweat-stained. With makeup running down your cheeks and your composure in shambles. Even now, on the run and apparently wanted, you’re incredibly beautiful. Bucky hates how easy it is to admit and how hard it is to keep off his tongue. It nearly gets the better of him. He watches your eyelashes flutter. When you look up at him, the world is suddenly drowned in honey.

“I’m sorry.”

You mean it.

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Bucky, immediately, regrets being so goddamn cold.

You were just trying to help — you were just trying to do the right thing.

“Stop it. Come here.”

The hug is the first time you can remember touching him like this. You think you’ll always remember it, too. It’s sturdy and warm and gentle and honest and you bury your face into the shoulder as his arms come up around your neck. He’s careful of your own injured shoulder, and his fingers find the base of your neck. Around his waist, your fingers dig into the back of his shirt. Both of you ground yourselves in the other’s arms, and for the first time in a handful of hours, you both find peace.

Quiet, sturdy, lovely peace.

And the two of you stay like that for a while in the quiet little kitchen.

It’s not until Climber’s voice rises from the living room that you’re pulled away from Bucky — and even then, your face linger inches from one another for a moment too long. Neither of you say a word, only swallow down confessions that could have been, and move on.

“Oh, girlie, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Bucky frowns. With your brows knotted tightly together, you weave through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Kiwi has sat up and both her and Climber have their eyes on the bulky flat screen on the dust-covered entertainment center. It’s cable news, and as Climber leans to turn the television up, a picture of you flashes across the screen.

It’s a photo from your arrest six months ago.

“Local authorities are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of this young woman call the FBI’s anonymous tip line—”

“Is there a reward?” Climber whispers almost excitedly, eyes on the screen.

“—Authorities are offering $100,000 dollars to the person who provides enough information to lead up to this dangerous fugitive’s capture.”

“Dangerous fugitive?” hisses Bucky.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” cries Kiwi, “Who the fuck did you piss off?”

You inhale deeply as you wave your hands. “The bigger question is who the fuck knew I was going to The Glass Cannon last night. Because they’re looking for me — not you.”

You point at Bucky and the gears are turning in your head.

The pacing is almost immediate, and Bucky crosses his arms tightly as you begin to walk back and forth behind the full length couch that Climber is currently spread out on.

It’s cut short, though, by Kiwi’s laptop chiming successfully.

“Well,” she stands quickly, “I have a feeling that someone knows you’re onto them. And the facial recognition software just got a match. A three point one, too.”

Your eyes brighten.

You’d given Kiwi the photo of the young Innessa, with all her decorated furs and blonde curls. She’s laughing and she’s young and she’s in love and it’s hard for you to imagine a woman like her to be dangerous. While you’d made sure Bucky was propped up comfortably on the couch and then finally calmed down from the adrenaline high enough to get comfortable yourself, Kiwi had dug out the hard-drive she kept on her at all times and began pulling data from the Alexandria Library files.

It had been a handful of hours, so it was clear that Innessa had hid herself well in the vast, expansive database SHIELD kept for all those years while it was in operation.

Bucky is quick to gather behind Kiwi, eyes scanning the screen.

Sure enough, when you come to look at the photos pulled up on Kiwi’s screen, there’s a hit. There’s an identification card photo of an older woman, maybe in her forties, pulled up alongside the photo Bucky had given you. Her hair is no longer blonde, but deep auburn color. She’s marked as having worked with Rumlow — a supervisor of some sort. Makes sense. You didn’t need to see a picture of Crossbones to remember Brock. Even when you’d interned, he’d been infamous.

And that was when he was one of the good guys.

There’s a handful of other photos of her — candids, professional photos, and even one where she is shaking Tony Stark’s hand.

And in all of them, you see your next door neighbor Bonnie McLayne.

“Fuck.”

Bucky blinks. Kiwi turns to look at you over her shoulder.

Again, you speak. Your eyes are wide. You can’t look away from the screen.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Rabbit…?”

“Fuck.”

Bucky’s face narrows considerably, confusion melting to make room for realization.

His voice is quiet.

“Do you know her?”

“Oh my god,” you say loudly, shaking your head and blinking, “Oh my fucking god, that’s my neighbor.”

Bucky can feel his whole face go clammy.

“The neighbor who—”

“—Who I showed your fucking picture to,” you nearly shriek, “Like it was some cute little matchmaking game!”

Immediately both hands are over your face as you throw your head back. Now, the pacing has begun, and like you’re being carried on autopilot, you begin to move back and forth and back and forth and—

“You don’t think she’d hurt Poke, do you?”

“Rabbit.”

“Oh god, oh god—”

Oh.

Oh, you’re having a panic attack.

Oh, that was quick. Brutally fast. Nearly immediate.

After all, she knows where your family lives. She gets Holiday cards from mom to give to you. She’s been your closest friend for nearly six years. But she’s not Bonnie, she’s Innessa fucking Sidrova. She’s seen you with Bucky. She knows — she knows a lot and you don’t know anything and you’re miles from home, from Poke, from Mom, from Ana… Oh, god, the baby. The baby.

“The baby.”

Bucky’s voice is level. “Rabbit, you gotta calm down.”

“I have to call my mom.”

“No,” Kiwi snaps immediately, “They’re going to be watching for your cell phone pings. No calls, no texting, none of it. And god forbid this woman is one step ahead of the FBI—”

“Oh, god.”

You gasp like a fish out of water, paralyzing fear sending you to lean against the back of the couch.

You claw at your chest and try to remember what Dr. Hart said about these sorts of moments. Square breathing. In and hold and out and hold. Again and again.  

“Sit down,” Bucky says as he returns to your side, nearly sweeping you up long enough to plop you down into the armchair from before, “And do me a favor and breathe.”

The whiskey isn’t helping right now.

“I’m trying.”

Another gasped breath.

Climber and Kiwi watch.

Bucky shakes his head sternly, kneeling on one knee and snagging your hands. “Don’t try. Just do it. You can do it. Just follow my lead — you’re the sidekick, after all. Remember? C’mon. There’s the smile. Breathe.”

So you do.

In, hold. Out, hold. You draw a square with one hand on your jeans and hold onto Bucky’s with the other.

Again, in and hold. Out and hold.

And again.

And then, you just listen to Bucky’s breathing.

You’re not sure how long it takes — half an hour, ten minutes, who knows — but finally you’re able to calm the spiraling thoughts in your head. Finally, the loudness quiets down, you catch your breath, and the world isn’t falling apart. The bite of anxiety still remains in the hollow of your chest and Bucky can see that when you finally open your eyes and squeeze his hand.

There’s that look again between the two of you. The one from before, in the kitchen.

“Good?” he asks quietly, blue eyes swimming with some sort of emotion you can’t really pin down. Not now. Maybe, if you’d been a bit more collected, you would have seen it as infatuation. But, no. It’s just… nice.

You swallow and nod.

“Damn, girl,” says Climber from his spot on the couch, “Now I’m starting to get the whole therapy thing.”

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“That’s recent, isn’t it?” he asks, genuine worry crossing his face as he stands to gently pass a hand over your back, “I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

Your face is sad. “I was just partying through it back then. Distraction was always the best method and then… When I had no more distractions and it was just me? Alone? And, psh, the accident with Jaimie? It got worse. So much worse.”

Climber’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, bunny.”

You try to put on a brave face.

Bucky stands from in front of you and begins his own pacing. This one isn’t so much born out of anxious nature — but more of a tactical logic born out of keeping you safe.

This wasn’t exactly the turn he was expecting.

“You didn’t recognize her?” he asks after a moment, voice high and tight.

“I’m sorry,” you wave a hand, exasperated, “She doesn’t exactly look the same as she did in the 70s.”

Kiwi frowns at the screen. “Definitely botox.”

Bucky squints. He looks to you for an explanation.

You vaguely gesture to your face.

His brow lifts, he closes his eyes, and he sighs.

Kiwi is next to pipe up. “It explains why the feds are looking for you, especially if she saw you with the one man she knows is looking to hunt her down — so, I think it’s best the both of you lay low for a couple of days.”

“Not to mention,” Climber wags a finger, “Bucky the Babe over here did just piss off one the smaller Russian crime families in New York. So, there’s always that ontop of the evil Nazi-HYDRA-woman-next-door.”

You groan.

“Poke has enough food for a week,” Bucky says nearly reading your mind, “He’ll be fine.”

“So, what? We just wait here? Until something happens?”

“Sidrova is going to try and bait us out,” Bucky mutters, “She knows she can’t just disappear. She’s been settled for too long and we know too much. Engaging us in an altercation is how she’ll do it. Plus, I have a feeling she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot me in the knees after a few decades. So, we wait.”

“Few decades?” Kiwi whispers.

“How old are you?” Climber asks.

“Hundred and six.”

Both of them just blink at an unphased Bucky.

You sigh, finally standing on wobbly legs. “This feels like a bad idea. I’m just stating that for the record.”

“Better than her hunting the both of you down,” Kiwi supplies, “You can stay here. There’s cable, there’s booze, and there’s plenty of instant ramen to last you until winter.”

“Stale cereal, too.”

“Wait— where are you two going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, “You’re leaving?”

“Keeping our hands clean,” Kiwi says, closing her laptop, “And letting you be the sidekick, bunny.”

The sadness in your heart grows a little heavier at those words, but there’s a little bit of pride in Kiwi’s tone. As she stands, she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. Quietly, she murmurs into your hair.

“Your dad would be proud of you, y’know.”

Bucky watches.

Climber is next, and that hug is bigger, more brotherly, more like sunshine and less like autumn.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rabbit.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out as the two of them gather their belongings, “For dragging you both into this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help me—”

“Yeah, we did,” Kiwi chirps as she knocks Bucky on the arm three times, “Keep her safe, aakarshak purush.”

The Hindi rolls off her tongue with ease.

Bucky laughs. “Bahut lamba.”

Kiwi pauses mid-step. She narrows her eyes. There’s a smile on her lips. “Your pronunciation isn’t bad.”

He shrugs plainly. “I get lunch almost everyday at the Indian place below my apartment, so. The owner has been teaching me some stuff on the side.”

An approving nod.

Kiwi hucks you the keys across the room.

She points at Bucky.

“I like him. Try not to fuck that up, eh?”

And then, the two of them are gone.

And it’s just you and Bucky in the empty apartment.

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Emergency Visits (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.5k+

Warning(s): SMUT! Oral (Reader recieving), fingering, penetration, fluff!!! (Cringe warning too)

A/N: HONESTLY, idk why i had the courage to write smut but I did. THE ORIGINAL ONE-SHOT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAVE SMUT LMFAO also yall know I am a sucker for crossovers SOOO the timelime for TFATWS is off in this because Frank Castle is in here and I wrote most of this before episode 5 <3 

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Zemo need a place to lay low in while in the States and you're their most trusted person they know. What was not predicted was your vigilante friend needing medical help that same night. 

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

You were a former Avenger. You were highly trained in combat but your purpose was to help any wounded comrade or citizen when you and the team were called in. The fighting days were pretty much over for you after the last battle with Thanos. You still used your medical knowledge to work at the different hospitals in New York City and helped Matt Murdock or Frank Castle with any wounds. Rarely you'd help with some vigilante work, but you rather sit out and keep to a less violent life.

You were mindless watching whatever Netflix suggested to you on a breezy night in your humble apartment in New York. It has been a rather boring few nights for you compared to more hectic ones, given your vigilante friends weren't getting as hurt as usual and didn't need discreet medical care.

Your cellphone ringing next to you snapped your attention away from your binging of a John Mulaney  stand up show (good choice Netflix). You looked at the caller idea and swore your heart fluttered ever so slightly.

James Buchanan Barnes was calling.

You had spent many months in Wakanda with him as Shuri worked tirelessly to get rid of Hydras grasp on his mind. Your main focus was learning new information on medicine but you always made sure to visit Bucky. You both got pretty close... Light touches, lingering hugs, and often staring at each other when the other wasn't looking became a commonality. It was obvious feelings of love were blossoming for you, but you weren't fully sure if he felt the same.

After the battle you both stayed in contact, but he decided to reside in D.C. while you laid roots back in the familiarity of New York. You both made sure to visit each when possible, but it had been about a month and a half since you last saw him.

"Hey, Buck." You smiled, answering his call. "It's been a few days, usually you make sure to call every other night. Are you okay?"

"I..." You heard him sigh, making you sit up straight.  "I need a favor, doll."

"Of course, you know I would do practically anything for you."

"That applies to me too right?" You heard Sam in the background, making you chuckle.

"Yes, it does Sam. How are you?"

"I've been better, these past few days have been rough but I'll let Stare-a-tron explain it to you." You heard a wack and an 'ow' come from Sam.

"So..." Bucky started but didn't continue.

"So...?"

"So, have you paid any attention to the news regarding Munich?"

"I have now connected the dots."

"What?"

"You broke a certain terrorist out of jail didn't you, James." You groan. When you saw the news about Zemo you couldn't possibly connect it to Buck and Sam, but with this call and a need of a favor instantly made you realize.

"Technically, (Y/N), he broke himself out."

"Do I need to slap some sense into you? He killed King  T'Chaka. He broke up the Avengers--"

"I know, I know." You heard him sigh. You listened in closer and heard some background traffic noise that sounded like the streets of New York. "Listen, we need a place to lay low for a bit in the States and your the only person I can one-hundred percent trust. I can't tell you more on the phone but please-"

"Yes, yes of course Buck. You guys, well minus Zemo, are welcomed here for whatever reason. Do you need me to text you the address?"

"Nah, we are actually about to enter your apartment building."

"Well hurry up so we can decide on take out." You chuckled and hung up the phone. You only had to wait a few minutes before you heard knocking at your door. Wasting no time you opened the door as fast as you can and practically tackle Bucky into a hug.

He chuckled gently, "I missed you too, doll."

You released him from your hold and grinned as Sam. "Come here Sam, I haven't seen you in a few months." You pulled him into a less dramatic but friendly hug.

"Good to see you too, (Y/N)." Sam and Buck made their way into the apartment leaving you faced to face with Zemo.

"Hello." You greeted, offering a differential handshake.

"Hello, (Y/N). I hope all is well." He accepted the short handshake and gave an equally differential smile before entering your apartment.

"Welcome to my humble abode, make yourselves at home here. I have two bedrooms so we better discuss sleeping arrangements-"

"Easy, I call dibs bunking with you while Wings and Zemo stay in your spare room." Bucky interrupted.

"Hold up, why can't you stay with creepy-magee? I'm sure you two would love to stare at each other." Sam argued.

"Because I called dibs, isn't that right Doll?"

"He did call dibs, Sam." You shrugged and laugh at his look of betrayal.

You heard Zemo start to speak but Sam beat him to it, "You don't get an opinion." Zemo simply put his hands up and surrendered while the other two kept arguing about the concept of dibs.

"Anyways I'll order some Chinese food and we can discuss why you three are here over dinner."

--------

Your mind was blown.

Bucky and Sam filled you in on Isaiah, the return of super soldiers, why they needed Zemo, and the issues they had with the New Captain America. You also almost chastised Bucky for missing his mandated therapy session but decided to keep eating your food and let him continue.

"Wow, that is fucking nuts. Super soldiers, huh?" You sigh. As much as you didn't want to, you had a feeling they would need your help with fighting. After all you fought along with the original Captain America, so you picked up ways to fight super soldiers.

"Yeah, after Madripoor we need to lay low. Hopefully no one spotted us." Sam said, starting to pick up his dishes. Everyone seemed to follow suit and you were about to speak again when you heard knocking at your door.

"Hey, can you take these  for me? I'll go answer the door." You slid your stuff towards Buck who looked at you worried.

"Do you want one of us to answer the door with you?"

"Nah I should be fine, it's probably Mrs. Espinoza looking for her sons cat." You waved him off, making your way to the door. You unlock your locks and crack open the door.

There stood Frank fucking Castle, covered in an obscene amount of blood while using  the wall for support.

"Hey..." He greeted with a hoarse voice and a weak attempt of a smile.

"Holy shit, Frank." You said barely above a whisper. "Fuck, can one you guys come here?!" You shouted, opening the door wider while taking one his arms over your shoulder.

"What the hell, (Y/N)?" Bucky looked at you and the blood soaked Punisher with bewilderment.

"I'll explain in a bit! Just help me take him to the couch. Sam go get my medical bag, it's in my closet in the room on the left! Zemo clear everyones stuff from the couch." You barked out orders while you and James carefully led Frank to the couch. When Zemo cleared it off and Sam came running out with your bag, you both laid him down on the couch.

With no hesitation you quickly wash your hands and prepare your equipment.

"Are you going to tell us what the hell is happening right now, (Y/N)?" Buck asked.

"I am also wondering why we have a beaten guy on your couch." Sam's face was full of worry.

You sigh and begin removing Franks clothes to look for any life threatening wounds. "This is the Punisher. If you haven't kept up with the more lower level news he is one of the vigilantes."

"That doesn't explain why he is here."

"I... I am friends with him and Daredevil. I patch them up so they can avoid the hospital." You see a bullet wound on his side, it was bad but it was manageable with an exit wound. "One of you hold him up so I can stitch his back."

Bucky immediately joined your side, using his enhanced strength to hold up Frank.

"You gonna introduce me to your friends here, (Y/N)?" Frank rasped. "I gotta know whose cold ass hand is touchin' me."

"I'll introduce you to them later, let me get you stable."

-----

After what felt like hours, you finished dressing a gash on his thigh. You peel of your bloodied gloves and get up from kneeling on the floor. You helped sit Frank up so he can get a good look at whose here.

"Frank, this is Sam Wilson and James Barnes. I worked and fought with them as an Avenger." You gesture to the two. You saw him eyeing Buck before giving you a knowing look. You both were friends after all, he knew of your feelings towards Bucky.

"Who's the guy in the pimp coat?" He grunted and gestured towards Zemo, who rolled his eyes.

"Baron Zemo. Escapee prisoner."

"Zemo? As in the guy who bombed the UN? Do you need me to-"

"No Frank, they need him alive." You chuckled.

"Well, it's good to put faces to names. Especially yours, James." Frank spoke, nudging you. "I'll get my spare clothes and rinse off the blood now, something tells me the guest room will be taken." You were going to protest but knew Frank was too stubborn to listen. The four of you watched him make his way to the guest room before closing the door.

"Oh so he knows about us but we don't know about him?" Sam arched a brow at you. Bucky stayed silent, clenching both his fists.

You sigh, "I am sorry for not telling you guys. I didn't keep my involvement with vigilantes away from you both on purpose, I promise."

"Can we trust the Punisher? Will everything be safe with all of us here?"

"You don't have to worry about me talking." Frank came out of the room in new clothes, using a damp towel to wipe his face. "(Y/N)'s stuck her neck out for me countless times. I owe it to her."

"If (Y/N) trusts you then we trust you."

"As much as I want to stay up, I think it is best we get some sleep. Tomorrow we can talk more." You stretch and yawn and everyone seemed to agree. Castle put a pillow on the couch and grabbed a spare blanket you had lying around.

"C'mon man you can have the bed. You look like you got the shit beaten out of you." Sam said.

"Nah it's fine. I'm a light sleeper. I can stay out here in case he," Castle pointed to Zemo, "tries somethin'."

"C'mon Buck, your rooming with me." You smile and grab his non-vibranium hand.

"I don't want to share a room with Zemo." Falcon groaned

"Bucky did call dibs after all."

You said goodnight to Sam, and gave Frank a quick hug goodnight before you and James went into your bedroom, a duffel bag in his hand.

James was feeling jealous. He didn't want to admit it but watching how friendly you were with Frank Castle made his feelings worse.  He could pick up the familiarity between the two of you and how easy you were able to talked to him. Frank was someone in your life Bucky didn't know existed.  How close were you to the Punisher?

Thoughts of you and Frank entered his head but he quickly tried to dismiss them. It made his chest ache just thinking about you and another man. Yeah, Buck was smitten with you. But the feelings of self-doubt and guilt always made it hard for him to confess. With the addition of Frank? Made it almost impossible.

"You can use the bathroom to change while I cahnge out here." Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He nodded silently, clenching his jaw, while entering the bathroom.

Your stare lingered at the door before you quickly put on a different set of comfortable clothes, discarding your previous clothes to the floor. You picked up on his sudden quietness and you hoped he wasnt truly mad at you. With a quiet sigh you slid under the blankets of your bed and waited for Bucky so you could get to bed. You and Bucky have shared the floor and bed before, and you were able to keep it together.

But after everything that has happened, after finally seeing him after almost two months, it made you feel nervous. You weren't sure if it was exhaustion or stress, but your feelings for Bucky suddenly felt overwhelming.

If that wasn't enough, you felt like your face was burning when he stepped out from the bathroom, wearing just his boxers and dogtags.

"I, uh, hope you don't mind. I found sleeping without a shirt easier to deal with nightmares. Helps cool me off."

"No, no. Don't worry at all Buck." You smile but it felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest. He smiled briefly before he turned out the lights, joining you in bed. You both laid on your sides, back facing back. You shut your eyes and try to focus on sleeping, but the image of shirtless, only in boxers James flooded your thoughts.

"Doll?" James voice cut through the silence.

"Y-yes, Buck?"

"Who... Who is Frank  to you?" He asked in a low, dejected tone. Your eyes snap open. What kind of question was that from him?

"What do you mean?" You roll to face him but his back was still towards you.

"Are you and Frank..." He paused, "just ignore it, nevermind."

"Bucky, face me." He didn't  respond. "Please, James." You heard him sigh but he complied, turning to face you. The subtle light from your window made it easier to see his handsome face in the dark. You gulped, trying to muster an ounce of courage to tell him these feelings you've held for him for years.

"Frank and I are strictly friends. Before he became the Punisher he had a wife and two kids who he loved dearly. They-they were killed in front of him. He loved his wife dearly and I don't think he is looking to start dating anytime soon." You sigh and things go silent for a moment.

You rested a hand on his cheek and scooch closer. "James, I... I really enjoy spending time with you. I enjoy your presence. After all that we have been through,  with getting the code words out your head to losing Steve... I want to be by your side no matter what." You felt tears prick your eyes.

"I feel the same way about you doll." James spoke, just above a whisper. "You help ground me and honestly you help keep me sane." His hand found its way above yours that was cupping his cheek. Gently he moved your hand to his lips. He placed a soft kiss to your knuckles before moving it over his heart. "I've felt this for a while and I never had much courage to say it before but... I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, James." You smile, a few happy tears managed to escape your eyes.

"C'mere." He helped move you close to him, pulling you into a deep hug. The chill of his vibranium arm caused goosebumps but the warmth of his other arm gave you comfort.

You wrap your arms around his bare torso and snuggled your face into his neck. God he smelt good. With a little courage coursing through you, you gave him a small kiss on the neck before giving him a little love bite, nothing that would bruise.

Bucky chuckled moving a part from you, just enough to get a full look at your face. Without saying anything he leaned in, his eyes hooded, placing his lips on yours. One of his hands found its way to your head while the other rested on your hip. You pushed your body closer to his, while gently dragging your nails across his back.

"Mm Doll." He mumbled against your lips. "I... I want to continue this with you if that's alright with you."

"Yes, Bucky." And in an instant after giving him the word, he maneuvered you onto your back while he hovered on top of you, his dogtags dangling down. He removed them from his body.

"Don't want those hitting your pretty face." He smiled and leaned in to kiss you once again, this time him slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His warm hand rested on your neck before he slowly dragged it down your chest and to the hem of your shirt. He messed with it a little, teasing to go underneath.  You whine a bit and arch your back as he kept messing with it.

"May I?" You simply nod in response. He pushed himself away from you and took the hem of your shirt, helping you remove it. The cold air hitting your now exposed chest made you shiver. "No bra? Naughty." He smirked.

"I'm not the one who came out only his his boxers."

"Touché." He tossed your shirt onto the ground and soaked in the view below him. The perfect lighting leaking through the blinds illuminated everything in just the right way. James licked his lips, "You are gorgeous, doll."

"You're pretty handsome yourself." You smile, which made him smile.

"Let me treat you like a goddess. Let me repay the favor." Without another word James attacked your neck with his mouth, nipping and sucking on the area. He continued leaving love marks from your neck down to your chest slowly. The sensation made you moan as tingles went through your body. You felt yourself getting wetter as he continued to leave hickies on your chest.

Bucky used his non-vibranium hand to cup your right breast, kneading it gently. Maintaining eye contact with you his leans his head down to your free breast before giving your raised nipple a quick lick. The feel made your body shake ever so slightly, making him smirk at the reaction. He did it again, although this time slower before latching on, using his tongue to swipe over the sensitive bump.

"Bucky-" You gasped. You felt heat slowly build in your core, not enough to have you screaming, but enough to feel pleasurable. "That feels so good." He continued giving your tender breasts and nipples attention, slowly building you up.

"Lets get these pajama shorts off." He sat up again, moving himself lower on the bed. He gripped the waistband of your shorts and began slowly removing them while you lifted your legs to help. Discarding them like your shirt, he tosses those articles of clothing to the floor. You were left with just your panties

His hands take your knees and help spread your legs farther a part, soaking in the view of your body spread out. His mouth found its place on your in thigh. He left small kissed, sometimes little bites, and he dragged his mouth closer and closer to your wet pussy. "I want to taste you doll, is that alright?"

"Y-yes Bucky, please." You begged, adjusting your hips ever so slightly. "I want to feel you more."

"As you wish." He smirked. Before he removes your panties he places soft kissed over the fabric covering your pussy. You stifle a moan, as he continued to tease you against the fabric. When he was done, he remove your underwear with ease.

"You are stunning, absolutely stunning." His hand found its way to your slit. He gently  brushed his fingers over your sensitive skin, making your body twitch ever so slightly. "You're so wet for me, already." His tongue slowly and softly dragged around your vagina and clit, the teasing is back on.

"A-Ah!" You quietly moaned, trying to keel your voice down. You moan again when you felt one metal finger enter slowly while his mouth latched to your clit. One of your hands reached down to grip his hair as he began to finger and play with your clitoris.

The pleasure had your curling your toes. You had to bite your lip to hold back from moaning loudly. You didn't feel like waking up the others.

Another finger entered as he started to speed up his motions, his tongue and mouth still on your clitoris.

"That feels so good." You said with an airy tone as he continued to work.

"You taste divine." His breath against your sensitive skin made you your thighs clamp around his head. The pleasure was building up and you felt like your were close to cumming.

"J-James, - oh god!" You kept your voice down but the work he is doing to your clit made it hard to stay quiet. "Fuck-"

James give your clit one last lick before sitting, removing his fingers in the process. He then licked his fingers clean as he stared down at your panting body. He could feel his cock wanting to be free from his boxers so he removed them, letting his large erection out. He watched you squirm as you awaited for his touch again.

"Do you want my dick inside you, doll?"

"Ye-yes please." You begged, wiggling your hips for him. "Please!"

"God your so hot." He leaned back over you, placing a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips. Lining himself up to your entrance he looked to you. "Ready?"

"Yes!" He smiled, and slowly slide his cock inside you. You gasp as you feel him stretch you out, tears stinging your eyes. He stopped once he was fully in, letting you have a moment to get adjusted. "I don't know how I'll keep my voice down."

"Bury your face into my neck, I want to hear you moan my name."

You did what he suggested, you wrapped your arms around his torso while he used his vibranium arm to stay stable and his other arm around your head to keep himself close to you. His body was completely on top of yours.

"You can move now."

James slowly moved his hips away, almost entirely removing his cock from you except the tip before thrusting back in. Your moan was successful smothered by his body. He continued thrust himself inside your pussy, the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.

"O-Oh James- yesyesyes," You mewl. "You feel so good." You heard him let out a husky groan in your ear.

"I love it when you say my name, (Y/N)." He whispered in your ear as he kept his pace. You continue to moan out his name, gripping him tight as his thrust got faster. "Fuck, your so tight."

"Shit- faster!" You begged and he obliged. "You're so good to me Bucky. You-you're perfect." You could feel his thrust starting to gst sloppy as you felt waves of pleasure course through your body.

"Baby you make me crazy." He moaned. You could feel his hand make its way down to your clit, and your body arches against his as he pressed down on the sensitive bud. He practically started pounding your pussy as he moaned in your ear.

"James I'm gonna- I'm so close!" You cry out as the the feeling kept building.

"Do it, cum for me."

It was like everything in your body started shake as the pressure finally snaps in your core. You bury your face into his chest and moan his name as blinding, white hot pleasure filled your being. Your walls tighten around his cock  and you feel him start to tense.

His thrusts became harder before he finally released his thick cum inside of you before collapse onto of you, panting. Both of you were sweaty and breathing hard, but neither of you moved. The feeling of his cock inside you, twitching, was extremely hot.

"You're amazing, (Y/N)." He grinned, making you smiled.

"You're the best damn thing in my life, James."

---------

You woke up naked the next morning, curled up to an equally naked, sleeping Bucky. You smiled, remembering last nights confession and everything after that. You watch him sleep for a moment before deciding to slip out of bed to make everyone breakfast. You throw on the pajamas you wore before hand and quietly leave the room.

You close the door as quietly as and turned around, only to see Frank sitting at the table reading a magazine you had lying around.

"Oh good morning Frank." You smiled and walked past him, hoping he wouldn't notice anything. "I'm gonna make some breakfast for everyone."

"Morning, (Y/N)." He grunted. "Sleep well?"

You almost choked on air, "Yes, I did. How about you?"

"Oh you know, the couch is alright but I am a light sleeper remember? I kept hearing weird noises through the night. " Your face felt on fire as you turned to face him. He wore a smug smirk on his face. "Got something on your neck there."

You rush to grab your phone and look in the camera. Low and behold, hickies were left on your neck. "Shit."

Frank snorted, "So you finally got with your crush, huh?"

"Oh shut it you grump."

"I'm just teasing you. You know I'm happy for you, (Y/N)."

"Thanks, Frank."

Frank decided to help you with breakfast, taking on making bacon and sausage while you attended to making pancakes. And sure enough the rest of the people in the apartment came out.

"They're gonna see them. "

"I know, I am bracing myself for Sam's teasing." You sigh. You go and place the plate  pancakes you made on the table while Frank placed the bacon and sausage he made.

"G'morning, doll. I missed ya in the morning." Bucky approached you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I wanted you to wake up to some breakfast." You grinned and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Did you finally confess your feelings?" You heard Sam. "I gotta get ahold of Tic Tac and Clint they owe- what the hell is on your neck (Y/N), is that what I think it is?" He groaned and sat at the table, everyone taking their spots.

"Hickies are messages on the body that can show ones presence on another-" Zemo spoke but was cut off by Sam.

"I do not want to know, Zemo. Lets just eat."

Breakfast was great. You were surprised Frank got along with the others, though it did take some talking to by Sam to break him out of his shell. You also could have sworn Buck and Frank had a stare down at one point but were both laughing and smiling.

You take hold of Bucks hand that was on the table and give it a light squeeze, smiling at him while he smiled back. Life was pleasant even after these emergency visits.

[acourtofsnakes]

A Helping Hand - Bucky Barnes x Reader (f)

(Gif: @sebastianruinedme​ )

Summary: After a stressful week, you try to wind down with some personal time but nothing quite hits that spot. And a certain Super Soldier may just be more than willing to help you. 

Warnings: 18+ Smut - Masturbation/toys, Oral (f receiving), fingering, neck play, arm/hand kink, dirty talk, a faint Dom theme if you squint, swearing – honestly, Bucky should just be a kink in himself.

Word count: 5k+ words full of hot playtime. 

A/N: This is just filth, to be honest. I was feeling a certain way after watching episode 3 of TFATWS and seeing that scene with Bucky cleaning his hand and… ideas happened, and this was born. There’s not really a plot… simply enjoy. 

Smut under the cut!!

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal​

Part 2

There was something to be said about the advancement of toys in recent years. 

There were hundreds of them. All different types. For all different things. 

Rabbits, waterproof vibrators, pulsating and pounding ones, ones that felt like oral, handsfree vibrators, remote control vibrators – the list went on. 

You had a lot. Tucked in a drawer of your dresser in a pretty box that just made you go all tingly in the knees every time you saw it. 

You were proud of your collection. 

And boy, did you love them. 

They never let you down, ever. 

But unfortunately, tonight was just not one of those nights. 

It has been a tough week. 

Not only had you taken a beating in training yesterday, but you were also late for an appointment across the city, which resulted in being yelled at by Fury. 

You really regretted decided to help him when he needed it. 

There wasn’t a lot going on lately, so you offered to help Fury when he needed it. 

Usually, you were on his food side. 

Yesterday, not so much. 

Everything seemed out to get you, and after the shit show of the week, you just wanted to treat yourself. So, you’d holed yourself up in your room on your floor of the compound, had a long, luxurious soak in the bath, and then decided to work out your anxiety and tension with one of your many, many friends. 

And for the first time in a while, they just weren’t hitting that spot. 

Literally. 

You groaned, throwing the third toy - this one a rabbit that was one of your most trusty companions - on the side of your bed. 

For the last forty minutes, you’d been dancing between three different toys and your fingers. 

You’d tried being on your belly, your side, and your back. You’d even tried a pillow. 

But nothing was the right pressure on your clit, no toy or finger felt deep enough inside, and you couldn’t hit that spot inside without getting a wicked cramp in your wrist that forced you to stop. 

You sat up, every nerve in your body wound to a knife edge, leaving you frustrated and tempted to throttle someone. 

Or get someone to throttle you. 

Preferably whilst pinning you to a wall... or a desk. 

Or anywhere really. 

You just needed something, anything to get out this frustration and give you the release you’d been desperately chasing all night. 

It wasn’t even a case of hovering on the edge - you couldn’t even get there. The fire and heat just stayed a kindling ember in your belly, and never reaching that explosive fire. 

After getting up and downing a measure of whiskey whilst watching the rain, you decided to try a last-ditch attempt with a different toy. 

This one was a curved vibrator, with a thicker rounder head for supposedly perfect pressure on your g-spot. 

Simple, straight forward. 

Surely, if none of the others had done it, this one finally would. 

After settling back on your bed, you took a little more care this time, even going as far to light a few candles to add an ambiance to the room rather than have it pitch black with the sounds of the rain. 

You worked yourself up this time, building it slowly, teasing yourself with brushes of your fingertips over your throat and breasts, setting your skin ablaze. 

You pushed yourself to the edge a little, and then worked over with your vibrator. 

Until ten minutes later, when you literally launched the vibrator across the room and it hit the wall with a resounding thud, that echoed your hiss of frustration.  “Fucking hell.”  

A shit week, a shit day, and you couldn’t even fuck yourself well enough to be able to wind down and get some sleep. 

There was a sudden knock and then Bucky’s voice echoed through your bedroom door. “Darlin’?” There was a slight hint of his Brooklyn accent peeping through at the end, stirring something within you. 

You startled, sitting bolt upright and your head snapped to the door, “Bucky?” You had the good sense to lock the door, but still. He was right there. 

His shadow moved beneath the door, and you realised he was leaning against it, “Is everything alright? I heard banging.” 

Well, no not really. I’ve been trying to get myself off for the last hour and nothing appears to be working and I’m sitting here naked whilst you’re the other side of my door calling me Darling in that ridiculously hot accent that shouldn’t even be that hot. But hey, apart from that, everything’s great. 

You slid off the bed, padding across the room after dropping your toys back in their drawer, glaring at it as you passed. You slipped a robe on before making your way across the fluffy rug to the door, “Yeah, I’m okay...” You unlocked the door, tugging it open. 

Bucky was leaning against the doorframe, all broad shoulders, long lines and soft smile. 

His searing blue eyes were instantly locked onto you, a smirk playing on those gorgeous lips.

He cocked his head, standing there with his arms crossed, and you noticed that for once, he wasn’t wearing any gloves. Just a simple long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans that hung sinfully close to his hips and... no boots. Just socks. 

Like he’d taken his shoes off before waking into your apartment. 

Ever the gentleman. 

His arm was bare, the soft light of the hall bouncing off of the black vibranium and sparking the gold. You’d always loved his arm. The sheer power of it, the way you’d seen it shatter a man’s ribs instantly and tear through a brick wall like it was made of glass. The same hand that tickled behind the ears of a stray kitten in Prospect Park and test the ripeness of plums at the market. 

You wanted that hand around your throat. 

Eyes the colour of the Arctic sea roamed over your body, from your slightly mussed up hair to the flush along your neck that disappeared in the dip of your dressing gown. “Mm... are you sure about that?” He tilted his coyly, a smirk playing on his lips and you had a feeling this expression had been one of the trademarks since the 40’s. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, more than aware that he was seeing far more than you wanted him to, “I’m fine.” You turned from the door, leaving it open for him to come in, “How comes you’re up on my floor, anyway?” You peered over your shoulder at him as you padded across the room to the drinks cart. 

Yes, there was a bar on your floor, but why couldn’t you have a cart in your room? Tony hadn’t even needed to ask when designing it. 

Bucky walked in, his footfalls silent like a cat, that training never quite leaving him, “I couldn’t sleep. No nightmares, just restless.” He added the last part quickly, in response to the concern that tightened your expression. 

It was nothing unusual, Bucky coming up here to your room.  

You often found each other after nightmares or rough days, seeking comfort and distraction from the darkness that lingered. 

Some days and nights, you went out, needing an outside diversion from the thoughts. 

Other times, you stayed in, watching films, talking, training or just... sitting quietly, knowing that the other persons presence was enough protection and reassurance. Words weren’t needed… just company.  

You handed him a drink, plopping down on the end of your bed and you watched him sink into the couch opposite, “Anything you wanna talk about?” 

Since everything with the War, Bucky was working on fitting back into a routine, into ‘normal’ life - or what could be considered normal for people like yourselves. 

He was undergoing his mandatory therapy sessions, and they seemed to be helping him. 

He was back in contact with Sam, and the pair even worked a few jobs together now and then, even if they did bicker like an old married couple - it provided great entertainment when you tagged along. 

He leant back on the couch, settling his left arm across the back. He always looked at home on your floor, relaxed, like his mind could shut off a little. “Nah, I’m okay... Thank you though.” He shot you an easy smile again, one that he probably hadn’t used in.... decades. “What about you? Why are you up so late?”

Mimicking his shrug, you kept your expression neutral, making sure your eyes didn’t drift to that certain drawer, “Rough week. I was reading to try and drift off.” 

“Mmmhm...” Bucky’s hummed response told you instantly that he did not believe you one bit. “What were you reading? Cosmopolitan’s best guide to toys?” That shit eating grin graced his face and he motioned gracefully with his left hand... to the corner of the room. 

The vibrator you’d launched was sitting on the floor, nestled in the rug, the soft mint green silicone practically a beacon. 

Okay. 

Okay…. So. There were two ways you could respond to this. 

Either play it off, deny it and change the subject. 

Or…

Turning back to him, you shrugged again, “Oh, I’ve read that back to front. And made a few additions myself.” You cocked your head, a faint flutter in your belly as you awaited his response. 

The barest flicker of surprise danced across his beautiful, rugged features before dissolving into something confident and smouldering. “Well, it looks to me like their guide isn’t true to review tonight. Something tells me you’re having a little bit of trouble.” His voice had begun to lower into a deeper, the natural roughness of his voice coming out. 

It stoked that fire within you, warming your blood and curling low in your belly. 

“And if I was? What would you suggest to help?” It was almost impossible to remain sitting still as the atmosphere folded and changed. There was one obvious route to your back and forth… and you wanted it. 

Wanted… him.

And if you were honest, you had for a long time now. There was just something about him that you’d always been drawn to, a simmering tension that settled whenever you were together. 

Bucky rose from the sofa in a fluid movement, walking toward you slowly, casually, but with the grace and prowl of a wolf eyeing up its next meal – you. 

And fuck, you wanted him to devour you. 

He slid his hands into his pockets, feet silent on your wooden floor, “Well… I would say that as wonderful as your toys may be… they’re just that. Toys. They can’t… feel what you like.” His eyes burned through you with each of his steps. “They don’t hear the noises you make when they hit the right spot. They don’t get to see the way your body reacts, the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip because it feels overwhelmingly good.” 

He was close enough for you to smell his cologne, and that only added to the growing wetness between your thighs as his filthy, beautiful words. 

Bucky stopped in front of you, removing his left hand and touching his fingers to your chin to tilt it up to face him, “They can’t know the little things… the deeper angle, that extra finger or sweep of the tongue… they can’t make you so wet that it runs down your thighs and they can’t make you arch off the bed as you shatter into starlight…” He sighed softly, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “I’m afraid they just… can’t make you come the way a real person could.” He applied a little pressure to the underside of your chin, and you rose to your – unsteady -  feet instantly, putty in his hands.  

Holy fuck, Bucky Barnes had a mouth on him. 

Your teeth had indeed sunk into your lower lip, and your breathing had grown shallow. It was an effort to keep your thighs firmly locked together… Because you were just as wet as he had said. 

The dark flame in his eyes told you that he knew the reaction you were having to him. He brushed a cool thumb over your lip, then tugged it gently to free it from your teeth and at the same time, he leant his head down to your level, “They can’t make you come like I can, darlin’.” This close, his warm lips brushed the shell of your ear, his voice reduced to a husky rasp that only further drew out that Brooklyn accent. 

The soft moan that left your lips was almost pitiful, but you didn’t care, “Shit.” 

You breathed the word, earning a deep chuckle in your ear before Bucky pulled back, only enough to see your face, “You want me to help you? Give you a helping hand?” His words were low and seductive, but he was looking between your eyes, making no more moves until he knew you wanted this. 

If you changed your mind, he would leave right now, and say no more about it. 

That very thought pained you. 

Something had always hovered between you both… and maybe now was the time to let it out. You shared a few kisses on nights out and he had featured heavily in your fantasies night after night, wishing your fingers were his, the toys were him….

You met his eyes, your own clear and sure and you kept that gaze as you parted your lips. Then swept your tongue along his thumb and tilted your head down just enough to take it between your lips. The vibranium was smooth, cold and it felt oddly delightful on your tongue. “Make me come, Bucky. Prove to me you’re better than the toys.” Your voice was low with need, a soft pleading note for him there as you gazed up through your eyelashes. 

The Arctic blue of his eyes deepened to near midnight, his pupils blowing out as he watched you talk around his thumb, your tongue sweeping over the metal and he almost purred, “Oh, baby, you won’t need toys when I’m done.” And then he was on you. 

He gently pulled his hand from your face, instead placing it lightly around your neck, the heavy metal settling on your collarbones and that alone drenched you. 

He looked between your eyes, checking one final time and then his mouth was lowering onto yours, his lips warm, plush and ever so inviting. Instantly, he licked a teasing line along your lips, which you would have parted for him without the request. 

Bucky’s tongue slipped past your lips, sweeping against yours in hot strokes as he explored every corner of your mouth. 

He tasted divine, and even more so when his thumb lightly tipped your chin back and he traced the tip of his tongue along the roof of your mouth, licking over the ridges and showing you exactly what that tongue could do. 

A groan left your lips, and you slid your hands up his arms to those shoulders, those gorgeous broad shoulders that all you wanted to do was dig your nails into them and use for support as you rode him. 

A deep curl of delight and joy was unfurling within the heat in your belly, because you needed this, needed more of him and his hands and his tongue and his words… and you were finally getting it

Hell, he had only just started kissing you and you already could have fallen apart just from that. 

“Why have we not been doing this all the time?” Was the only thought that your already fuzzy mind could come up with as he pulled away slowly from your lips, only to begin pressing hot, open kisses against your jaw that were all teeth and tongue. He seared a path to your neck, kissing all over until he found that particular spot that made you whimper and arch into his body. 

Bucky laughed low against your neck, the sound vibrating, “Oh, baby, you were struggling, weren’t you? I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already a mess…” He used his hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, before biting at your skin, sweeping his tongue over the hot and sucking a deep mark there. 

A slight whine rippled in your throat, fingers pulling as his shirt and your chest pushed against his, the firm heat of him making your nipples tighten, especially when he pushed into you. 

Bucky slipped a hand between your bodies, tugging at the cord of your dressing gown and it slipped from your shoulders, leaving you bare and open to him. 

He licked down your neck, his tongue smoothing over the shape of your collarbones and then down your sternum to your breasts. He butterfly kissed the soft flesh, then almost delicately sucked at your rleft nipple, lifting his vibranium hand to squeeze the other, “So beautiful…” He mumbled it half to himself, his dark mussed up curls soft against your skin. 

One of your hands trailed up the back of his neck, slightly tangling in the hair at the base of his head and you pushed your chest further into his mouth, “Tease.” The word was a soft gasp, your eyes closing in pleasure and your lips parting. 

He chuckled, pulling back to blow a cool breath on the wet skin, watching your nipple harden and then he moved to give the other the same treatment, “Oh, I’m a tease, am I? I can stop if you like.” He grinned around the delicate skin, just slightly grazing his teeth as he tugged your nipple and then he continued his trail of kisses down your body, slowly sinking to his knees. “I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop though, darlin’.” His right hand grasped your ankle, and then he ghosted warm fingertips up your leg, past your knee and then pausing at your inner thigh, at what he felt there, “No. No I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop at all.” 

The cocky bastard grinned once more against your stomach, before dipping his tongue inside your belly button.

“Bucky…” You couldn’t hide the whimper in your voice, nor the way your hips rocked forward in a plea. It was almost painful how much you needed him to touch you, needed to feel his lips and his tongue. 

“Shhh, baby, I know.” His hands slipped up your waist, as soothing as his gentle coo against your belly button and then he brushed his lips lower and lower��� and then finally, he pressed a soft butterfly kiss to your pubic bone. 

A low groan tore from his throat, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he saw you, swollen and positively dripping for him, “Oh, darlin’, look at you…” 

The sheer desire and awe in his low voice caused heat to flush along your cheekbones. You weren’t shy by any means, but the almost primal admiration in his voice was something you’d never heard before, the pure want and desire to make you feel good and worship you. 

Bucky admired the sight before him for a single moment, before lifting his eyes to yours and then he dove in, immediately devouring you like he was starving. His deft tongue slipped through your slick folds with ease, and he moaned again at your taste, at your smell, everything. 

He pressed his tongue flat against you before sucking at your clit, with such an intensity that you almost choked. It was a simple movement, but it shot electricity through your body and made every single nerve stand on end. 

He let that coil of energy begin to build, and then he licked back down, his hands sliding down to palm at your ass cheeks before digging his fingers into your skin, pulling you in further so he could bury his nose against your clit and his tongue – fuck, his tongue pushed inside of you, hot and heavy. It just felt so, so good, his nose putting pressure on your bundle of nerves, his tongue pumping inside you. 

Your hands flew down to his hair, winding through it to keep him there, keep him doing that, to keep him fucking you with his tongue, “Buck-”. You weren’t sure what you were begging him for, only that you just needed to say his name, needed to do something. 

Your hips began to rock in time with his thrusts, and you became aware of it only when Bucky’s muffled moan reverberating through you. 

He liked it, no... he loved this, that you were grinding against his face as his tongue worked inside you, tasting parts of you no one else had ever gotten right before. 

“Fuck, Bucky, keep doing that – I’m-” You cut off with a high moan, your head tilting back as you rocked into him faster, chasing down that high that was so tantalisingly close. It hadn’t taken long, you were so worked up from your failed attempts that you were already there. 

Bucky’s began to lick and suck you with new fervour, his head moving in time with the jerks of his hips, feeling the way your walls were tightening around his tongue. His fingers dug harder into your ass, and you felt the silent command almost, Come. 

And you did. 

You cried his name out to the sky, every nerve in your body winding to near painful tautness before you shattered on his face, your first orgasm ripping through you. 

Bucky didn’t stop, working you through it and drawing it out further and further as he lapped up every single drop you gave him, moaning himself like it was the most tantalising thing he had ever tasted. 

He stopped only when your grip released on his hair, the sensitivity of your nerves almost painful, your legs shaking like crazy and he lifted his hand from between your thighs, his lips and chin glistening. He rose from his knees, nudging you back onto the bed and instantly crawling up your body, “You have no idea how good you taste.” 

You whimpered slightly, catching your breath as you watched him crawl up you, eyes burning like sapphire fire, his tongue licking slowly over his lips as he savoured you. Words were beyond you, desire still coursing through your veins and you were a little in awe at how quickly – and hard – he had brought you to your first orgasm. 

Bucky grinned devilishly, “That won’t be your last.” He lowered his mouth back to yours and as you tasted yourself on him, you grew instantly wet for him again. 

His body brushed into yours and you felt how painfully hard he was through his jeans, the sounds and taste of you getting to him of course. 

Your fingers had barely brushed against his restrained length when he shook his head, nipping at your lower lip, “Oh no, baby, this is all about you.” 

You ignored him, palming him through his jeans and he moaned lowly before his eyes flashed, his hand suddenly back on your throat and he moved his hips away so you couldn’t get to him. “I said no.” It was almost a snarl, “This is about you. Not me.” His hand tightened just slightly around your throat, making it that little bit harder to breathe and your eyes rolled back at how delicious it felt. 

It was a huge kink for you, the idea of someone – of Bucky - taking control, being in control of your body even it was just for a little while. You didn’t need to think or do anything. Only feel and be at the mercy of his touch. 

You relented, legs falling open for him and you tilted your head back, searching for his lips. 

Bucky granted you the kiss, a slow, languid kiss at first that was all simmering passion and tangling tongues, the taste on you still lingering on his lips. 

He palmed your breast again, tugging and squeezing the flesh until he scratched his nails lightly down your ribcage and belly. 

Yes, yes-

He wasted no time, no more playing and his fingers slipped lower, circling over your clit with a delicious pressure that had you instantly moaning into his mouth.

He toyed with your clit a little more, before gathering your wetness and then sinking two fingers inside you, pushing all the way into his knuckles, then drawing back out slowly. 

As he withdrew, you moaned long and slow into his mouth and he began a steady rhythm. Pushing and curling his fingers inside you a few steps, then circling and pulling at your clit, ever so subtly switching it up with each pass so you couldn’t predict what he would do.  

It felt amazing, but… there was something still missing. It still wasn’t quite enough to send you over that final edge… it wasn’t what you’d been fantasising about. 

No, it was his left hand. That dark, golden vibranium hand that was currently seated around your throat. 

The knowledge of what it could do, the sheer power in it that could easily crush your windpipe or shatter your jaw with a single flick of his wrist. 

That is what you needed. 

Those cool, powerful fingers inside you, working you over – that was the best toy. 

It was like he could read your mind somehow, or the way your body sung to his tune. He lifted his head, looking down at you with those searing blues and he cocked his head, a slow grin lighting his gorgeous face, “Oh… This-” he scissored his fingers inside you, stretching your walls and ever so slightly brushing up against that spot, “isn’t quite what you want, is it, darlin’?” 

Holy Christ, he was going to destroy you before you even got what you wanted.

You looked up at him, panting, hips rocking to the slower thrust of his fingers and you shook your head.

Bucky swore softly, panting himself and he squeezed your throat once before lifting his fingers, “You want these, don’t you?”

Instead of answering him, you ducked your head, taking his three fingers into your mouth and immediately gliding your tongue around them, up and down in slow, dirty strokes. 

The effect was instantaneous. Bucky’s hips jerked slightly against yours, his mouth parting as he watched you suck his vibranium fingers, hollowing your cheeks, eyes rolling back in your head like… like it was something else entirely. 

He groaned, swore again and then almost ripped his fingers from your mouth and from between your legs at the same time. 

Your entire body mourned the loss, feeling empty, clenching around nothing but mere seconds later, he plunged those three vibranium fingers inside of you, slick with your saliva and how unbelievably wet you were. 

It stung a little, but only added to the feeling as your hips rose off the bed, “Shit, shit-”

They felt… like the best toy you could ever imagine. Smooth, cold, and hard enough that you could feel every faint ridge of the joints as he slid them in and out. You reached out, grabbing his arm with one hand and the bed with the other, needing something to hold onto as instinct took over. Your hips rode upwards, back arching as you rocked his fingers in deeper, feeling them in your spine almost. It was better than you could have imagined. 

Bucky dropped his head to your chest, spreading his mouth over your breast and his other arm slid over your hips, pinning them to the bed so you were forced to take it. “You wanted this, baby… You take it.” He bit down on the soft flesh of your breast before smoothing his tongue over it again, working an alternative rhythm to his fingers and thumb again, so that your brain couldn’t keep up with which one to follow. It knew only the waves of fire singing through your veins.  

Time may have very well dissolved, because you could only feel pleasure, tinged almost with pain. 

The thick, hard stroking of fingers as they stretched and wrecked you. 

The circling, hard-soft-hard pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

The bite of his teeth on your breasts, neck and chest, followed by the wet press of his tongue. 

The way he couldn’t help his hips slightly rocking against your leg. 

This was almost like a fever dream, expect your brain couldn’t have come up with something this mind melting. Not even if you were really, really worked up. 

The noises in the room were absolutely sinful. The unrestrained cries and moans from your lips, Bucky’s groans and his filthy words, the wet pump of his fingers inside you – it was obscene, filthy and completely, painfully mind-blowing. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bucky, please-” You had no idea what you were begging for, but every single nerve and muscle in your body was coiling tighter and tighter, your hips jerking against his arm as he pinned you down, forcing you to take this, to feel everything he was doing with no relenting. Tears were beginning to blur your eyes and the pleasure he unleashed upon you was almost painful. 

Bucky somehow moved his fingers harder, deeper, the ability of the tech in his arm allowing him to do so, “Let go, baby, come on, let it go for me..” He dropped his head, biting down on your neck and he pressed his fingers against that spot inside you, flicking your clit with his thumb and then it all just snapped. 

Waves and waves of hot fire flooded your body, dragging you up to the stars, further. It ripped the air from your lungs, made you half scream his name in a never-ending prayer. 

It just didn’t stop. 

Bucky kept moving inside you, drawing out every single second of your mind-shattering orgasm, letting go of your hips so you could grind them into his hand. “That’s it, baby… Look at you, so beautiful like that…” His praise spurred you on, making you feel almost like a goddess as you flooded his hand. 

He stopped only when you slumped back onto the bed, sucking in deep breaths as you tried to piece yourself back together. 

Better than toys indeed. 

~~

A little while later, you stirred from a light dose to see Bucky lounging on your couch again, cleaning the grooves and metal of his fingers with a soft cloth. 

The sight of him concentrating, taking such care and detail with the clean-up, the cleanup from the mess you had made, had you instantly wet again. “Bucky.” 

He looked up, hearing the low thrum to your voice and a smirk crossed his lips. 

You had a favour to repay for his helping hand, after all. 

[rahleeyah]

Thanks for answering even months later 😊 OH and don't get me started on the christmas ep! I too am still angry about it!!! I really really wanted that to have been processed somehow and I was hoping it would at least come up in therapy: you know, your life hasn't been easy during this last year, it's okay to be sad... NOPE it's Elliot's/your lack of a romantic relationship's fault, like what???

the fucking christmas episode tho. liv and noah are at church??? (this is related to something that's been on my mind lately, how much of liv's character has been eroded in recent seasons, how they have blunted her rough edges and made her "soft" in so many ways that feel like "she's of a certain age and she's a mother she can't be a bulldog anymore she has to be sweet" and that is. a) not a good look and b) not true to who olivia IS) which doesn't make any sense bc apart from having baby noah blessed in a church (also. sidebar. amanda's from georgia. what are the chances she went to a church where babies get baptized i'm sorry i do not believe she was raised catholic) we have had zero reason to suspect that liv has been going to church all this time although. i can't remember now. has liv come out and said in recent seasons that she believes in god now? or is that just a fanon thing i'm thinking of? ooooh there's something about liv turning to the church after elliot is gone as a way to still feel close to him but that is neither here nor there lemme rein this in-

so we have the squad being ripped away from their families on christmas to work a hate crimes case (bc WL is still salty his hate crimes show didn't get made, which, thank god it didn't, they do not possess the nuance to produce that show with grace), we have the retconning of murphy and rollins' relationship/baby stuff, we have amanda's parents looking after the girls and noah which is INSANE bc her mother is an awful bitch who treated amanda like shit and her dad is an abusive alcoholic why were those children not with the carisis. we have the initial red herring, which was super racist and never revisited and wasted a bunch of time, NOT TO MENTION that for a white supremacy storyline a lot of the actors were not actually white?? and rollins flashing a white power sign on tv which imo was unnecessary and yes she was only doing it to entrap that guy but given their whole "we needed a character to represent the Good Kind Of Republican, bc that's definitely an underrepresented group, and we might as well use the southern girl bc they're all like that, right?" thing was in extremely bad taste. and then liv shoots some dude in front of a crowd of witnesses on christmas day and no one goes to comfort her. no one goes to speak to her. murphy says merry christmas, not dryly, not ironically, no liv says thank you like she thought he was being sincere and then he vanishes again. fade to black. never mentioned again, not even once.

no one steps up for olivia. we do not get to see olivia and rollins with their kids. we never hear about it again, like it never even happened.

bc to WL et al, it didn't bear revisiting. all they cared about was the "she saved the city" narrative; there was zero care for olivia as a person. which has kinda become par for the course over the last two seasons; svu does not care about her personhood. they care about her as a prop. they had her stand still while men emoted around her, doing nothing but covering her heart in a sweet gesture of compassion. they waited until the finale to allow her to express any of what she's been feeling, and like you said pinned it all on elliot, WITHOUT EVEN ACTUALLY LETTING OLIVIA TELL US HOW SHE FEELS ABOUT HIM. they had lindstrom and barba - they had two men - tell us what olivia is feeling.

jesus christ. i am so glad they're bringing in fresh blood. it is desperately needed.

[leonicscorpio]

Batboy Headcanons because I made this for me but you all can enjoy this too if want. (May contain mild NSFW)

Dick:

Has a weird relationship with unwanted gaze and the attention he receives because of his physique. He genuinely likes the attention but he draws the line when people start getting touchy. Just because he's shirtless working out doesn't mean he gave you consent to touch him.

Has good dieting skills but he's in his mid-late 20's and his metabolism has 0 signs of slowing down. He once ate a whole xl bag of M&M's in front of Steph and Babs and both said they wanted to murder him because he won't gain a pound.

Dick has ADHD and I'm sorry if you don't think otherwise. He has hyperactive type ADHD and while he's gotten better at controlling his symptoms he still stims stretching and flexing his arms and shaking his arms.

While not so much in Gotham, Dick is very politically active and volunteers at voter registration and working with organizations with the mission of police demilitarization in Blüdhaven.

Dick is a very sexually driven individual. However, I don't think it's entirely healthy. His ADHD also comes into play with this but Dick just needs to have a release at least twice a day or he'll feel physically sick.

I don't know if you all have seen male gymnasts. But Dick, like the rest of them, has FREAKSISHLY large biceps. Everyone talks about Dick has the best ass in the bat family and while Jason may be larger and stronger, Dick has the best physique.

Dick's apartment is littered with sticky notes in places such as the fridge/in front of his computer. If it's not written down and in a place where he can't ignore it, it's not going to get done.

I'm sorry I know everyone says his birthday is in March but I have to go to the older Nightwing comics and say his Birthday is December 1st. I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me this man doesn't give off Sagittarius energy. You can't. I respect you but you can't look at that and tell me that man isn't a Sagittarius or has super heavy Sag in his birth chart.

Dick's at home doing nothing but chilling? You best believe he's gonna be shirts off, tits out, and rocking some blue flannel PJ's.

Dick is currently the only member of the family asides from Barbara who is regularly attending therapy. And he actively encourages each of his brothers and sisters to go every time.

After his Agent 37 days. He sits down with Jason and talks about having to use a gun and how hard it was. And how having to kill people has affected him. When he had to kill the KGBeast (Agent 37 days he snapped his neck) I headcanon Dick just trauma v*mit*d. Jason hugged him and just consoled him.

It's canon that Dick has anger issues but to me, it's not explored or talked about enough and not a lot of people like to talk about it. Dick is very much the 'if I ignore it it'll go away' type when it comes to his anger and he can brush most insults or harassment off fine enough. But when he breaks, he makes Jason look like a saint. I'm talking slamming you into a wall and screaming in your face angry. He'll be profusely apologetic afterward but still.

Despite popular belief, I don't think he's that bad of a cook. He's just not very experimentative. He can follow a recipe and does look at some guides. But to me, Dick Grayson just is that guy who is like Chicken veggies and rice are a meal that I can cook 4-6 times a week.

Dick has a slight fear of dentists. He doesn't have bad teeth and has good dental health. He just doesn't like the idea of a drill going in his mouth and the few times Bruce has to take him to a dentist he had a panic attack every time.

Everyone lives for the fics where Jason beats the shit out of Tim and everyone is just like lol well Bruce and Dick just forgives him. No. When Dick found out it was Jason who beat Tim to the ground, Dick was literally seething and told Jason "Pick on someone your own size or else I'll make you wish you back in that f'ing coffin."

Dick's favorite foods (some based in Canon*): Milk Chocolate*, Cereal*, Asparagus, Bananas, Banana flavored candy, Hawaiian Pizza* (suffer its canon) Rum, thanksgiving Turkey.

Jason:

He may be the self-diagnosed black sheep (rightfully so) of the family, but Jason does genuinely love spending time with his siblings. Whether it be sharing memes with them on social media or just randomly showing up where they are and abducting them to go get ice cream/coffee/snacks.

He'd probably attempt to harm you if you told him this to his face. But he is the closest acting to Bruce out of all of the family. In terms of mannerisms and inherent warmth and kindness behind a dark façade.

Has two moods: either exceptionally, almost neat-freak levels of clean, or his life is completely falling apart and Jason can't tell you for sure what color his floors are because there's so much stuff scattered about.

Despite their initial hatred of each other, Jason truly feels closest to Tim and Tim is the only person asides from maybe Barbra who he can just talk to without feeling any judgment.

Jason only smokes when he's extremely nervous about an operation or a hit. For those who don't know criminal justice cigarettes are the fastest way to get genetic material on someone. That being said he does still like to smoke occasionally.

Me, plus a lot of people give him this sort of 'Lazarus Rage' as I like to call it. When he's in the heat of a mission or if he's getting upset/angry his vision will get blurred with green, and it feeds on his anger and just gets perpetually harder to contain until he releases it. Jason has gotten much better at controlling it. But as he will tell Tim or Babs, he's "seeing green" which means they need to be careful because Jason could kill.

Everyone says Dick is the mother hen. I see you, I accept you, but let me raise you. Jason came to realize that he died because of his rash decision to go after The Joker alone. If Jason finds any of his siblings out acting alone, or even at the very least without Oracle. Jason WILL forcefully interject himself and ask them what the fuck they think their doing.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Trying to get close to Jason is hard. He will degrade you can attempt to try to get you to hate him before he lets you in (that cheeky Tsun of him)

He genuinely cares for and supports all of his siblings but has been rough on them needlessly. But if Bruce is being the distant or absent parent he is, you better believe if any of the siblings drops him a text or a call, Jason will be there in a heartbeat.

He's the most physically powerful of the whole Bat Family. You don't understand because of his time in the League, his time with the All-Caste, and having abused Venom for a time, he can snap an arm bone like it's a carrot with little effort.

Everyone in the family likes dogs and goes out of their way to gush over a dog, but Jason takes it to a whole new level. And even when he's masked up dogs just gravitate to Jason.

Can and has grown a beard in a matter of a few days. He usually likes to be clean shaven but some days he likes to wear a beard just to throw everyone off.

One time him, Steph, Tim, and Duke all went to a restaurant (Red Robin lol) and the waitress got his order wrong and his burger had raw tomatoes on it, Jason took the tomatoes off and ate it while looking absolutely miserable. Tim: Jay why did you eat that you didn't have to you know you could have asked the server to fix your burger. Jason, almost in tears: "She works really hard and she tried and I'm a scary dude I don't want to make her upset.." Duke: "... Jason you literally shot at a cop for looking at you funny the other day. But you're afraid of upsetting a waitress?!? I mean ACAB but dude.. "

Jason's happiest big brother moment™ was taking Tim and Damian to the shooting range and watching them both get their first bullseye.

You can't tell me Jason Todd was into the Emo/Screamo/Warped-Tour Scene. His favorite bands/Albums in no particular order, That's the Spirit (Literally the whole album is Jason Themed and I'm gonna die on this hill) & Sempiternal by Bring me the Horizon, Digital Renegade & Everyone's Safe in the Treehouse by I See Stars, The Resistance: Rise of the Runaways by Crown the Empire,

Jason Todd's favorite foods: (Also some based in Canon*) Burgers, Chili Dogs*, Lager-style beers, Freshly baked bread*, Neopolitan ice cream, grilled corn, and Chinese Chicken noodle soup with Duck.

Tim:

This boy *slaps car roof* gives off so much asexual energy. I know New 52 exists but I just feel like Tim is the person who really, REALLY has to trust you and like you before he's sexually active with you.

HYPERFIXATES. You also can't tell me Tim isn't on the spectrum/or has ADHD.

Is the only member of the family who regularly checks up on Jason and talks to him every day via text message. The two are memelords together and love to play pranks on the other members.

While Dick may give the most frequent hugs and Jason gives the tightest, most secure hugs, Tim's hugs are always the warmest and make you just feel good.

Tim's birthday is July 19th. Meaning he's a Cancer. Let that sink in.. no, really let that information just soak. (Note I have nothing against Cancer women, cancer men however....)

All of the bat boys really struggle with talking about their feelings. Dick will manipulate you into changing the subject via twisting it to be about you, Jason will just cut you off or will ignore you, Damian will deflect everything and harass you until you stop, Tim however, Tim is very emotional and while he's very calculated about who he's emotional with, he's not afraid to break down and cry if he trusts you.

Everyone who says he's the level headed Robin haha how's it feel to be WRONG. Tim is at best the least functional college student and at worst a lemming. 'No Tim, coffee isn't a meal I'm going to make you some food or I'm going to stick you in a room with Damian for an hour.' Richard (Dick) John Grayson.

People overblow how addicted to caffeine Tim is. But it's true. Just overblown. You can talk to him before he's had his caffeine just don't expect him to be anything but curt and blunt.

Everyone says Jason would be the worst at texting but it's Tim. He's the master of leaving you on read. While Jason may do it on purpose, Tim is just really bad at texting people and while he always will read your messages he forgets to respond unless it's really funny or really pressing.

Everyone sees Tim as this bean pole super skinny boy Robin. Tim may not be stacked like Dick or a freaking tank like Jason, but Tim is NOT super skinny. He's just as muscular and likes to work out as anyone, but he just is super lean, so he looks a lot bigger and his muscles are more defined because of how thin his skin is. He has those almost disgusting spider veins on his arm. Kind of gross to look at, but he's the dream of any nurse. This means Tim is also the king of accidentally sending/posting thirst traps.

He really is the glue of the Bat Family. Everyone kidnaps Tim for 'Tim Time'.

Dick likes to spar with and in general just hang out with Tim. Tim tried to teach Dick how to skateboard and you'd think the boy who mastered the trapeze would know how to skateboard but you'd be wrong.

Babs and Tim always hang out and talk about computer stuff and Babs knows she can vent to Tim about anything and he won't say a word.

Tim and Steph were a thing for a while and even though they're just friends now, they still are very close and the two have a very deep bond, liking to shop with each other and watch movies,

Cass just loves to be around Tim because of how calming he is but also she knows she can spar with him AND Cass can also skateboard with Tim too.

Even though him and Damian are always fighting, the two still end up being together and have this unspoken bond. They work great together on a team but other than that they still hate each other.

And while everyone still is hesitant around Jason, and despite the fact that Jason literally beat Tim to within an inch of his life, AND would still trigger Tim and taunt him about it. The two have this odd closeness that rivals even him and Steph. Tim will always be the first to bat for Jason. Jason was Tim's Robin. And despite the fact Jason literally beat it into Tim's head to "never meet your heroes." Tim will always be there for Jason should he ask. The two are just close. And it's hard to describe. Bruce has caught Tim and Jason just platonically sleeping next to each other or just doing their own things shoulder to shoulder silently, just enjoying each other's company.

Tim and Duke also have a really positive relationship with one another and the two can stay up all night just talking about anything. Their minds just mesh well together. The two also love to team up and prank the other members of the Batman Family.

Tim's favorite ASMR/Stim? Watching those Tik Toks of people cleaning computers or cleaning phones. The sound of an air duster is like music to his ears and if any of the Bats need their technology cleaned it secretly makes Tim so happy to help them.

Wear his hair up or wear his hair down? It depends! While Tim likes his long hair he also has gotten plenty of compliments for his short hair and likes to style it to suit any occasion.

My one pet-peeve with Tim is that he probably is that person who lets his privilege show from time to time. While he was essentially raised to just sit down, shut up, and be a perfect trophy son to the Drake's. The Drake's were in the same tax bracket as Bruce and Tim definitely was a rich kid. He never means to come across as spoiled, but sometimes Jason will give him harsh looks if Tim just throws away food he doesn't like or says things like Chipotle is 'poor people food'

Tim Drake's favorite foods (you know by now*) Donuts*, Shallot and Artichoke Pizza with Canadian Bacon* (odd choice but it could work) Artichokes in general are his favorite vegetable, Strawberries, and Beef Pho.

Damian:

I headcanon that he has the worst teeth of all of the Bat Boys and he actually has to use lingual braces. (Hence why you can't see his braces)

Canonically is a very good artist and while him and Tim don't get along, Tim introduced Damian to digital art and gave him a photoshop pack and a nice tablet for his birthday one year and Damian loved it so much.

Damian is a capricorn and I will die on this hill. A January capricorn too.

Now you want a good chef? You've got Damian. Having converted to veganism Damian has had to get creative whenever he goes out to eat so he tends to like to eat more home cooked foods. Damian loves all matters of mushrooms, eggplant, and bell peppers.

Damian really struggles the most with his wanting to just be a normal kid. Despite the fact he will dismiss you for it, anytime he gets to spend at Gotham Academy with Jon and the rest of the kids he's naturally the happiest.

Damian LOVES to give gifts. He loves the look on people's faces when they are shocked when they actually get something from Damian.

Despite the fact that he's been traumatized from both his times with Ra's and Talia as well as with Bruce. He just wants Bruce and Talia to be together because he loves them both equally.

While he's the least flexible and least gymnastic of the Robins do let your guard down around him. He is the fastest runner and the guy is rivaled only by Jason in terms of lethality.

So someone (Jason Todd & Duke Thomas) introduced Damian to trap music and ever since anytime his phone gets stolen people will be shocked to find he's listening to some combination of Lil' Yachty, X, Kendrick Lamar, Wiz, and Kodak.

If any random person tries to hug Damian he'll immediately push them away, he'll bitch and moan about just about anyone hugging him other than Bruce & Dick.

Damian loves to go to the beach/the ocean. He just thinks it's so vast and he loves the brineness of the air. Also being half white, quarter middle-eastern and quarter Chinese (Yes everyone forgets Talia is half Chinese) Damian gets DARK. And although he's just okay as a swimmer he still likes bogeyboarding and eventually wants to learn how to surf.

I'm genuinely afraid once Puberty is done with this kid and everyone in the family is. He has Bruce Wayne AND Talia Al-Ghouls genes and those are two SEXY human beings. Damian's gonna grow a beard one day and people aren't going to know how to act.

Damian secretly plays Fortnight and not even Jon knows. He doesn't want to get shamed. He'd rather lose a match and ruin his streaks than deal with the shame of anyone in that family finding out he plays Fortnight.

Damian Wayne's favorite foods (canon*) Cereal*, Avocados, Grilled Tempeh, his mom's Tabbouleh, Mushroom Tacos, and Vegan Sushi rolls, and grape juice.

Duke Thomas

Duke is like, freakishly good with a piano, and he picked it up naturally!

Also everyone says Tim brews the best pot of coffee in the Bat Family, cue to everyone's surprise when Tim was sick one day and couldn't make a pot. Only to find the coffee was freaking amazing. Duke didn't take any credit at first until Alfred let it slip that Duke was the one who brewed the pot.

Duke being the only Meta of the family originally thought he was the double-token because he was a Meta and a black boy. Needless to say his fears were seriously unfounded the moment he got to know everyone.

Although he somewhat fears Jason and his temper initially, he and Jason have one of the closest relationships in the family. If Tim isn't around to bat for Jason, Duke will happily take his spot. The two work on each other's bikes and grew to share the same taste in music.

Duke uses his Photokenetic powers as a force for good and for shenanigans. Jason wants to play a prank on Dick and Damian while Dick is reading Damian a story? Duke will hide Jason in the shadows and will cover up his shadow. Alfred dropped something in the dark? You better believe Duke will find it in 3 seconds or less.

Duke makes it a point to visit his parents every weekend to talk to them. Although they are making some progress in their recoveries, it's still slow going. Eventually, he starts bringing members of the family to see his parents. It started with Cass, then Jason, and the rest followed suit.

Duke loves playing video games with Damian and even helps Damian beat some tougher levels when Damian is about to rage and destroy the console.

Duke is into Magic the Gathering and you cannot tell me otherwise. Duke also is the DM for the Bat Kids annual D&D games. I can and will make a D&D Batfam Headcanons if asked.

Loves Pho just as much as Cass and Tim and they all call it a date night every now and then where they can go to a hole in the wall pho place. It's really a secret between the three of them.

DUKE THOMAS IS THE BEST SWIMMER OF THE BAT BOYS AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. HE JUST THRIVES IN THE WATER.

Finding out his birth father is a supervillain was really tough for him. He went into a shell for a little bit afterwards. Cass and Steph were there to help talk him out of his funk.

Duke Thomas's favorite foods (lol what canon DC hasn't acknowleged our boy in a while..) Chicken Pho, Thai Iced Tea, Papaya, Crab Cakes, Italian Hoagies, his mom's Lemon Poundcake, mint chocolate chip ice cream.

I hope y'all enjoyed! Up next (eventually) will be the Bat Girls!

[mindninjax]

Ok I see you with the aftercare Ms. ma'am but I also peeped that "nightmares is another story" comment. Mind explaining that to us?? P.S. I absolutely love how you write Bakugo. You always keep him in character but you also manage to make him different like you're very good at making him feel aged up and like a different person but one who is still Bakugo if that makes sense.

Omg thank you so very much. That is such a great compliment and means so much to me. I love characterization so much and I try really hard to keep my faves in character because it’s the reason I love them yannow? 

ANYWHOO Thank YOU for allowing me to talk about my Nightmare Scenarios for my beautiful angry gremlin. This got kinda long so it’s under a cut! oop.

OK so check it out. Bakugo has been through a lot of shit... ok, A LOT of shit. Since my mans was 14, it’s been traumatic episode after episode. So yes he has nightmares, not just nightmares, night terrors. 

Night terrors where he wakes up screaming. Where he wakes up and realizes he let off little explosions in his sleep because he’s trying to protect himself from the sludge villain attack that replays in his mind over and over. Ones where he wakes up with singed sheets and damaged books and black charred spots on the ceilings and walls of his bedroom. Ones where he wakes up and finds himself in weird places because he’s slept walk to them. Weird places being, the place he and Deku fought when he learned about All Might, the gym, outside of Aizawa’s room. 

So after becoming a pro, his makes sure his home is littered with remedies, fire proof sheets, triple locked doors, early bedtimes to make sure he will still get enough rest when he inevitably wakes up in the middle of the night terrified and panicked. 

It’s not something he thinks is a huge issue that needs to be dealt with and the home remedies he ahs set up at his house work so he brushes it off, doesn’t seek out help for it. << he’s still learning to ask for help ok?? It’s a life long lesson and it’s hard. 

ANYWHOO this is all to say, he never lets anyone spend the night at his house. Rarely does he spend the night at anyone else’s house and if he does it is almost always Kirishima’s house because he knows he can’t harm Kiri due to his hardening quirk (and also because he fucking trusts him more than any other person ok?? your honor they are in LOVE) .

SO when YOU come along and you thoroughly catch him off guard with your beauty and your charm and wiggle your way into his heart and his home, he is fucking terrified to have you there. He knows you’re not going to judge him (he’s seen you watch Kaminari shove a dime up his nose on a dare and not judge or call him stupid so he fucking KNOWS you’re a saint). 

His biggest concern is that he will hurt you. He’s still not sure whether the night terror will bring a sleep walking journey or protective explosions and he’s worried. But he’s also quite worried that it’ll be too much for you to handle and you’ll call him weak or worse, leave him. Yes worse, this man is SMITTEN with you, ok??? He frequently asks himself why the fuck someone like you is into someone like him and he wakes up every morning thinking you’re not going to be there.

He has the hardest time trying to explain the night terrors to you. He stumbles over his words a lot because he realizes he’s never actually spoken about this issue aloud, it’s just always been a thing he’s dealt with. He’s stunned when you’re supremely accepting and nonchalant about it. 

“Look it’s a lot to deal with you idiot, don’t just say it’s ok like it’s nothing!” 

“But it is ok Katsu. I don’t care about how much I have to ‘deal with’ to be with you. All I care about is making sure you’re ok.” 

He. Stops. Functioning. 

OK so here’s what nights would look like, at least for the first few months. 

Bakugo is not used to having anyone in bed with him, so when you snuggle up next to him, he is awkward, doesn’t know where to put his hands and is terrified that if he wraps himself around you, he’ll hurt you when he has the nightmare. You have to coax him softly and slowly into holding you and when he does, he finds that it helps a lot to feel you close to him, to feel your warmth, smell your scent, feel how soft your skin is compared to the rough blankets on his bed. 

For a few nights him holding you works, he goes a few nights with no nightmares or night terrors and gets the best sleep he’s ever had since they started. So now when the two of you get into bed, he automatically reaches for you. He stays up a bit longer than his super early bedtime because he has faith that he will be able to sleep through the night if you’re there with him. 

When the terrors do happen, you’re calm. You’re woken up by his whimpers and hyperventilating. He’s sweating and grinding his teeth and when he rips the blankets off of the two of you and jumps out of bed to crouch in a defensive position, you don’t panic or scream. 

You lock the doors and windows so he won’t leave out of them, keep the fire extinguisher on hand in case he activates his quirk (which he surprisingly doesn’t and it’s how you’re aware he’s slowly getting better). You gently talk to him, calm him down, have him focus on your voice in the dark terror of his mind. Sometimes he will talk to himself and it’ll clue you in on what terror he’s dreaming about. When he does, you can try to insert yourself into the dream with your words and become a calming escape for him. 

He always singles in on your voice and immediately calms down. And when you see him drop out of his defensive stance you know you’re safe to approach him and bring him into your embrace. 

The second he feels you, he calms down. You try to make sure he can smell your hair or something familiar about your scent so that his unconscious mind will know it’s you and that you’re there even though he’s still asleep. You guide him back to bed and hold him to your chest. RUB HIS HAIR,COO IN HIS EAR, TELL HIM HE IS SAFE, TELL HIM YOU AREN’T LEAVING. REPEAT IT OVER AND OVER. That’s the key. The more he hears it, the more he will believe it. 

ALSO, you talk him into going to therapy and going to a sleep analysis to help him. You go with him to every appointment and take down notes to better help him through the terrors hen they happen. 

All in all, you’re his safety blanket and he’s soft as fuck when it comes to you because you’ve managed to save him in a way he didn’t think was ever possible for anyone to ever do for him.