#i was trying to start it ages ago i've had that idea in my brain for months

[fivewholeminutes]

Guess who FINALLY has started @a-s-levynn's Series Of Small Offerings!!!

PART ONE Thread the Needle

Just look at where we're lying / An invisible space

It turns out i look at the proposed lyrics and suddenly get a Thought™ and follow it, so prepare for the offerings to be weird. In this case i thought of the invisible space being between Vessel and his mask, at the very beginning, before Vessel, before Him.

You can interpret it any way you want, i don't know what that means either, I just like dark drawings with a single source of light. Prepare to a lot of offerings like this too.

And apologies for the quality, I hate this paper, but I like the size of this notebook, do you see my problem

[buckymorelikefuckme]

and baby makes three

(the reboot)

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 11.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.

a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…

It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.

And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.

You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.

Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.

Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.

It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.

The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?

...Yearning?

No. Definitely not. Nope.

There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.

Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.

It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.

Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.

You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?

It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.

And god, do you even want a baby?

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.

Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.

It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.

You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.

This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.

***

You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.

It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.

You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.

“You could knock,” you grouse.

“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.

You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”

He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”

You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.

“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.

Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.

Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.

He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”

You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”

“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.

“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.

“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.

He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.

You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.

Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.

Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”

“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.

Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.

“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”

He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.

Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.

There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.

“So… You’re serious.”

You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”

“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.

You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”

You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.

After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”

“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.

He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.

“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.

“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”

“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me see!”

“It’s private!”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.

You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.

“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”

Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?” he asks innocently.

When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.

“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.

“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”

You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.

“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”

He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.

“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.

You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”

“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”

You frown, not following.

“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.

“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“

“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”

Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.

You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.

For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.

“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”

He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”

He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.

And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.

Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.

“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.

It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.

***

With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.

Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.

You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.

And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.

Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.

“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.

“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”

He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”

Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.

“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.

“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”

He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.

“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”

You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.

***

The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.

Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.

A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.

His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you return.

He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”

You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”

Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”

“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.

“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”

Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.

“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”

Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.

He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.

This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.

Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.

“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.

A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.

“You okay?” you hear through the door.

“Will you come here, please?” you ask.

He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”

“I did it,” you whisper.

He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.

“Congratulations,” he says softly.

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.

“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”

He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.

“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”

It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.

Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.

“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.

***

Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.

But nothing happens.

All of your tests come back negative.

When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.

Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!

***

The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.

But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.

You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”

Bucky frowns. “Why not?”

“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?

“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”

You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”

“Why not?”

You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”

When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”

You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”

His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”

“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”

His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”

You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”

“But you haven’t been doing… that.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to.”

Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.

“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”

“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.

He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.

Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.

Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.

“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.

This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.

Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.

The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.

You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.

Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.

Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.

He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.

When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.

Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.

Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.

That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.

***

You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.

Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.

And wait.

You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.

It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.

The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.

Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“What do I do, Bucky?”

At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.

When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.

“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”

“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”

Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.

“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”

“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”

“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.

His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.

“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”

You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.

Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.

“Okay,” you allow, softly.

Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.

You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)

***

Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.

It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.

You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.

“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.

He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi.”

You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.

“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”

“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not gonna be weird.”

“Nope.”

His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.

“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.

Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.

“May I?” he asks.

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.

Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.

The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.

He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!

When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.

“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.

He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…

He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.

Oh.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.

He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.

His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.

“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.

Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.

Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.

“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.

“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.

He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—

“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.

He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”

“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”

The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.

He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.

You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.

His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.

“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.

The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.

Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.

Stop it, you scold yourself.

He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.

“O-Oh,” you whimper.

The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.

“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.

He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.

“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”

You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.

Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.

It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.

“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.

“That was…”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”

You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.

You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.

“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”

He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”

His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.

“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.

Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.

“Right.”

Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.

You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.

Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.

“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”

He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”

You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.

As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.

***

It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.

Honest.

You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.

Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.

That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.

More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.

You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.

I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.

***

Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.

His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.

“Hey,” you say after a pause.

He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”

You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”

It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.

“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.

You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”

“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.

“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”

He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.

“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.

Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.

***

Another week passes.

Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.

When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.

Positive.

Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.

“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.

You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.

The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.

Every single one of them… Positive.

A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.

He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.

“Did we…?”

Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”

“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.

“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.

“What?” you question distractedly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.

“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”

You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…

But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.

“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”

He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”

Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.

He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.

When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.

“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.

His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.

“Bucky, please,” you beg.

“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”

You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”

“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”

“Oh god,” you mumble.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.

His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.

“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”

He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.

“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”

You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.

He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.

You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.

He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.

“So good, did so well,” he mutters.

Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.

“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”

Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.

“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”

He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”

He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.

“Hi.”

You crack a smile. “Hi.”

“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Interesting,” he muses.

Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.

“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.

You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.

“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”

He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.

“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.

You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”

Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.

“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.

“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.

His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.

You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.

Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”

“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”

His smile goes soft at the edges.

It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.

For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.

***

Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.

“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”

“What about—”

“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.

You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.

Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).

You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.

It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.

Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.

He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.

“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”

Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.

“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”

Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.

He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.

[kenny-the-ken]

Mine, and Mine Alone!

This was requested by a lovely anon, so thank you so so much for the idea!! I had so much fun writing this!! Send me lots of requests guys!! I love hearing from you all!! AGED UP CHARACTERS

Clyde fucking Donovan. He had been a thorn in Kyle's side for years now, ever since Kyle started dating y/n, and that was almost three years ago.

He knew Clyde was in love with you, but wasn't it obvious that you weren't interested? You were a kind girl, and he played on that fact. He knew you'd never want to hurt anyone's feelings, and he loved that about you, but he hated how Clyde used it for is own advantage over you.

All of this made Kyle extremely over protective, even getting to the point where his friends group were protecting you too, just to stop Kyle's brain from literally exploding every time a guys eyes lingered on you for just a bit too long.

And that was just in a day to day situation. Tonight was worse, oh one hundred million times worse, you were all going to a party at Wendy's house, Wendy had personally invited both of you and when Kyle seen how excited you were about attending, he knew he had no other choice but to come.

There you stood, your hand in Kyle's, sipping your drink and chatting to Wendy about god knows what when Kyle's interest peaked. The door had opened, and there was Clyde, sounding already under the influence.

"Douche bag at 10 o'clock." Stan spoke, ripping Kyle from his thoughts, simply nodding in response.

"Be better not try anything." Kyle whispered to Stan, you completely oblivious to what they were chatting about.

You all had been here for a while now, and much to Kyle's surprise he was actually enjoying himself more than he thought he would. He and the guys were all tipsy, laughing together like they did when they were kids, and you were taking shots in the kitchen with Bebe and Wendy.

"Hey, y/n, long time no see." You turned to see Clyde, leaning against the kitchen worktop.

"Hey Clyde, how're you?" You asked, your words a little more slurred that normal, causing you to giggle at yourself.

You were also too oblivious to realise that Wendy and Bebe had moved back to the living room where the rest of the party was, leaving you alone in the kitchen with Clyde.

This was his chance, and he wasn't going to waste it.

"I'll be so much better when I get to call you mine." Clyde replied, inching closer to you, and you slowly began to panic, your eyes widening slightly.

"Clyde, that's not going to happen, I'm with Kyle, I love him!" Your voice was raised louder than before, and your back hit off the edge of the worktop behind you, Clyde still approaching closer to you and you had no where left to go.

"You seriously think that a girl like you should be with a guy like that?" He questioned, one of his hands reaching to where your back rested against the countertop, locking you in.

"Clyde, move away from me!" You warned, your tone raised louder once more as you pushed him, which only made things worse.

"I've been in love with you forever, y/n, just one kiss, and then if you don't feel anything then I'll leave you alon-"

He was cut off from finishing his sentence as Kyle threw a punch at his from the side, Clyde's nose already staring to bleed as he clutched his face.

"Don't you DARE speak to my girlfriend that way, Clyde! And even better yet, don't fucking touch what's mine!" Kyle shouted, throwing another punch at him, knocking him to the ground.

"Kyle, I wasn't-" Clyde began, before Kyle cut him off once more, no way would he entertain this bullshit.

"Wasn't what? Pressuring my girlfriend to kiss you?! You've always been a pain in my fuckin' ass Clyde! Take the hint! She's with me, I won, you lost!" Kyle shouted once more, his arms engulfing you close to his chest, pressing kissed on the top of your head.

"Come on, y/n, let's go home." Kyle spoke, as you nodded in agreement, taking his hand in your own as he led you out of the house, sighing when you were a few streets away.

"He's so lucky I didn't kill him." Kyle spoke through gritted teeth, his free hand clenched in a tight fist.

"I'm just so glad you came when you did, god knows what he's have tried." You spoke, yours hands still shaking from the incident moments ago.

"You're staying in my house tonight, no ifs or buts about it, I'm gonna cuddle you to sleep." Kyle spoke, his hand detaching from yours to wrap an arm around your waist.

"As long as you don't mind?" You asked, a small smile on your face as your boyfriend shook his head.

"Of course I don't mind, my bed feels lonely without you in it." Kyle spoke, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you neared his home.

He quietly unlocked the door, not wanting to wake his little brother, and you both entered, heading upstairs to get ready for bed.

"My mom washed and dried your pyjamas you left here by the way." Kyle spoke, opening one of his beside cabinets and lifting your pyjamas out, placing them on the bed for you.

"I'll thank her in the morning." You said, taking your coat off and pulling your jeans down, then taking your top off. You could feel eyes burning through your flesh, and you knew that Kyle couldn't keep his eyes to himself, or his hands for that matter.

His hands found your hips as he pulled you to his chest, a small smirk on his face as he pressed kisses down your neck.

"I think it's time I remind you who this pussy belongs to, hmm?" He spoke, his voice low and raspy. His strong hands pushed you backwards onto his bed, a small gasp escaping you as he stood above you, pulling his shirt from his body and next unbuckling his belt, trailing his jeans from his legs, a smirk stuck to his face.

"I'm gonna ruin you, baby." He spoke, quickly removing your panties from your small form. He got down on his knees at the edge of the bed, pressing soft kisses up your thighs, before dipping his tongue between your wet folds, wanting to taste you.

"Fuck, Kyle!" You gasped, your hands moving to tangle in your boyfriends thick, tightly curled red hair, tugging gently.

His tongue was circling your clit, as he sucked gently on it, earning a long string of moans from you. And they were about to get louder, you felt his long digit circle round your entrance, before he pushed it inside you, curling his finger against your g-spot, his tongue still stimulating your clit.

"K-Kyle, oh my god." This only increased his speed, as he entered another finger inside you, pumping them quickly while curling them against your spot, and your back arched against the soft mattress beneath you, your moans growing louder and more frequent as you neared your release.

"I-I'm getting close, Kyle." You managed, his free hand moving up to tease with one of your nipples, his tongue licking stripes along your clit as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your back arching, and Kyle's name falling from your lips effortlessly in the form of moans. It was electric, your hands tugging on Kyle's hair, as he lapped up your juices, pulling his finger from you and sucking them into his mouth before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That was incredible." You panted, Kyle's smirk still firmly placed on his lips.

"Oh baby, who said we were finished?" He winked, and you knew you were going to be in for one hell of a night.

[diaprincess-dl]

First of all, thank you for who you are, and especially for choosing to share it with the world.

I am DL, with very few AB tendencies, if I understand correctly, you are also like that, with a connection to the DL world mainly.

There are very few women in the community in general, and in particular those who are DL. It's really refreshing to see that the first girl I notice that she's DL, she's also the most amazing beauty I've ever seen wearing diapers, and with a face that has real angelic cuteness.

I wanted to ask, and I would be very happy if you could answer, Even if not a complete answer, at least to know that you read and saw what I wrote, it will be very, very flattering to me.

When did you start wanting to wear a diaper? Is it sexual? If so, at what age did you realize it was related to sexual arousal? And if not, what in your soul makes you want this? At what age did you first put on diapers after initial weaning from diapers? And according to the fact that you had, from what I understand, late night wets, did your parents force you to wear a diaper? And when was the first time you put on a diaper in a section where it was clear to you that it was a so-called 'forbidden act'?

Sorry for the flood of questions.

I had a theory that was destroyed because of you, that these are only men can be a DL, because the sexual sensation associated with diapers somehow comes from stimulation and friction of the genital organ at a very young age in a diaper, which causes the brain to develop something very primitive to want a diaper, something that, technically, does not happen with women or should not happen for obvious reasons. And this is the reason that from the very, very basic tests I did, a lot of DL, these are children who were weaned at a relatively late age, 3, 4 and even 5. Then they develop the desire to wear a diaper, and at the age of 13 or so, it develops into something sexual. And that is why women are not DL, because the stimulation is supposed to be a lot more rarer.

One last thing I want to tell you is that the day I see a picture of you with a soaked diaper under your clothes, my day looks like rainbow.

Thank you so much for this!!!

Hiiyaaa 💕👸🏼

Thank you for such a kind message 🤗 I am definitely more into the DL side of things, you are absolutely correct but I do love some aspects of the AB side, I just don’t tend to share them online as much.

So I just started kindof dabbling in the world of diapers a few years ago, but had been wetting my pants and bed (some accidents, some on purpose) for literal years before I discovered the idea of wearing diapers… When I was a teen I went through phases where I would wet my bed like every night on purpose and then try to hide the evidence in the morning from my parents 🤦🏼‍♀️ they mentioned things a couple of times, but nowhere near the amount I was actually wetting the bed… they probably knew though lol.. l I definitely have a watersports kink, absolutely 🙊. Anyway I felt so silly for not thinking about the idea of using diapers sooner but diapers just never occurred to me lol. A few years back I saw my first porn video with another girl in a diaper and I was just in awe and had to try it myself 🤭.

Slowly I started to indulge more and more into blogs and personal ab/dl blogs to the point that I just kindof gradually mentally got myself in a space where I thought that I could try wearing diapers more often, which started off as just at night (when I was 26 to answer one of your questions)…. But somewhere in this phase I realized the convenience aspect of wearing 👀.. I could actually go through a full night in bed without having to get up to pee, so what started as a kink lead to discovering more than just that. I started wearing diapers all night, every night and just got used to waking up and wetting them, but this slowly, and I do mean slowly, about a year of wearing every night, turned into me starting to barely remember waking up to wet and eventually just flat out not remembering/not waking up and wetting myself most nights of the week. This was kindof scary but also turned me on? 🤷🏼‍♀️🤭 sooo I just kept doing it.

Here’s where the “convenience” aspect let me start wearing during the day: long road trips or long days out with my partner meant there was no real good spots to stop for the restroom all of the time. Things like concerts or big gatherings where there is drinking and long lines for the ladies room… I started wearing diapers to some of these things, not much as first but when I’d go back to not being diapered and have to suffer waiting in line, or waiting for a pit stop.. it was those moments that I seriously realized how much better it was being padded 💡 It was a little scary at first wearing diapers in public, especially wetting them.. also especially because I typically wear leggings or short dresses, so there is always some way that it can be seen. I’ve slowly just started to realize most people don’t care what you’re wearing for underwear, especially strangers. Friends on the other hand… 😬🫠 I know that some of my friends have noticed my diapers. I’ve had friends over for wine nights and forgot (on multiple occasions) to throw away my night time diapey and it was folded up on the bathroom floor and two of my friends went in there before I had went in and noticed. I’ve had a leak while waiting for a cab with my other friend and it was just us waiting outside in the quiet and I know she could hear the leaking onto the pavement. I also have multiple pictures on here of a diaper(s) I was wearing for while we were all hanging out…. So like all that and many other random occasions I’m sure lots of my friends know I wear diapers, I’m just waiting for someone to say something 🙊🙊 but part of me knowing they know, secretly turns me on? I’m super weird 🫠

So anyway since I knew there was a really big and accepting community out there for this, I finally got the courage to make a blog on Tumblr. It actually just started out as a personal blog for myself to be honest. Just a place where I could document my progress and share this side of me, for pictures I could go back and look at… I had no idea it would blow up like this. 😳 but I am extremely grateful and happy about it 💕💕

I wear diapers all of the time now, and am 100% nighttime bladder incontinent, and daytime at this point of a year wearing diapers 24/7 and NEVER trying to hold it….. I’m like basically there for daytime incontinence. 2 years ago I could totally hold it for hours like any other girl, but now I legitimately need diapers to keep me ‘dry’. I did it all to myself and part of me can’t believe it, but most of me is really happy I did it to myself 💕

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.

WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)

Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.

This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!

(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)

(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)

- - - -

The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.

It was as if the incident had never happened.

Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.

So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.

I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.

We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.

I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.

I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.

I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.

I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.

He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.

But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.

I was happy.

He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.

I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”

He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.

I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.

He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.

To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.

He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.

“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”

He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.

My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.

That, and the smell of smoke.

“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.

“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”

I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”

She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”

We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.

I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).

“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”

I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”

Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”

“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.

“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.

“Fisherman?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”

I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.

“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.

I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”

“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”

I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.

The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.

Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.

- - - -

The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.

“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”

I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.

“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.

“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”

I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.

“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”

“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.

He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”

I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”

He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”

I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.

“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”

“You could agree.”

“But I don’t.”

“Which proves my point.”

I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”

“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.

I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.

“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.

He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”

“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”

I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”

He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”

“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.

“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.

“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”

Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”

I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”

“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”

I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”

Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”

I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.

“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.

It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.

“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”

I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.

I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.

“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”

I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.

“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.

We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.

I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”

He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.

“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.

I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?

“Thank you, Konig.” I said.

He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”

I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.

“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“

“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.

“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”

My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.

“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”

I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.

Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-

“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“

We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“

Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.

“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?

“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”

“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“

“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.

“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.

Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.

A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.

- - - -

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix @v3lv3tvampir3 @theoneandonlykymberlee @luvvnightingalee @dillybuggg @sun-joo @perfectus-in-morte @evilive @satakingslime @comfortless

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

[artbyblastweave]

Got a Worm meta question for you. I'm starting on the early parts of Taylor's warlord era - I'm about to leap into Arc 13 - and the general concept of a ravaged American city being divided up by various supervillain groups is reminding me a lot of that Batman story arc No Man's Land from the late 1990s. Unfortunately my comics knowledge is rudimentary at best, and I haven't been able to any discussion comparing the two stories, so I was wondering if I could pick your brain on the subject. Was it just convergent evolution, or was Wildbow engaging with the Batman story in some way?

I myself have only read about half of No Man's Land- and several years ago to boot- so I've got limited ability to do a direct compare and contrast. No Man's Land is absolutely the sort of status-quo-shattering, history-book-making upset that, within Marvel and DC, nonetheless always inexplicably heals and loses salience until you can barely tell that it's still in continuity. Worm is heavily informed by Wildbow's irritation with that sort of thing, so I think it's totally reasonable to view the warlord era through the lens of "What if No Mans Land had no editorial escape hatch." Alternatively, I think it kind of makes sense to view it through the lens that it's working backwards from the premise of No Man's Land- In what kind of setting would it be plausible for the Federal Government to write off a sufficiently-damaged American City? In what context would the legal infrastructure have been established for that, in what context would that even fall within the Overton Window? What muddies my opinion on this is that the general concept of a ravaged, atmospherically-apocalyptic American city torn up by superpowered gang warfare is something that's kind of just been in the water in superhero comics since the mid-eighties at least, and it was a relatively common thing to see during the Dark Age- they were choice prey for all those overpouched musclemen with their poorly rendered firearms. I'd be surprised if Wildbow wasn't at least aware of No Man's Land, but it's definitely not the only cape book from the late 90s or early oughts where you could pick up that idea from. Ultimately this leaves me unsure if No Man's Land is the specific referent or if it's just part-and-parcel with trying to do an involved, thoughtful take on what cape comics were like at the time.

[admirxation]

˗ˏˋ admirxation's weekly fic recs ´ˎ˗

!! dark content ahead, please read the warnings the authors have provided, and then continue at your own discretion !!

5th may '24: here are some fics i've collected this week, obviously this is not every single fic but i wanted to give some more spotlight on the ones that literally had me bouncing off the walls lmao. if anyone wants to see more recommendations i have a 'admirxation fic recs' tag if you're ever wanting to read something, and i want to try and do this every Sunday to give some love to creators. i will try to limit this to 10-20, and some weeks might be shorter cuz i don't always have to time. thank you to these creators making these fics and please give them some love

resident evil fics

“If I gotta sin to see her again then I’m gonna lie.” [NSFW] {dad’s boss!Jack Krauser x fem!reader} ~ The reader ends up on their knees for the stranger allowed in their house; starting a fling with her fathers boss.

this was written by @mrswint3rs now i read this a bit ago but i just can’t forget about it. i love krauser content so much like there needs to be more content for this man, i love my pookie leon a feral amount but pookie bear needs to share some spotlight for the other RE guys. i am not embarrassed to admit that i keep rereading this fic, it does something to the brain chemistry. honestly the moment this girl posts more krauser fics im leaping like it’s my last meal cuz AHHHHHHH. the forceful but seductive characterisation that is written within krauser is so memorable and had me blushing and kicking my feet, and to expose myself further the secrecy tropes always get the meter going they are my guilty pleasure.

playing house [NSFW] {stepdad!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ the readers mother had passed away, leaving Leon and the reader to get closer.

this was written by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer now i always thought i wasn’t into the whole ddlg scene, before anyone things im hating i never gave hate to the concept i was just never apart of the craze if u get me, however, this fic has made me rlly rlly crave ddlg content to the point i’m wondering if the writer laced their words with crack cuz IM SO HOOKED. the gradual progression of the reader and leon is so hot, especially *spoilers for the rest of the fic* when they start sharing a bed dude the tingles i felt, and then the breeding when the reader acts so nonchalant about being bred by leon like YESSIR I NEED THIS MORE THAN ANYTHING.

Playground Love {older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ age gap love between reader and Leon.

this was written by @j3llyd0nut . i might have a problem which how much older men fanfics i consume, like gurl its becoming a big problem… that i dont wanna fix oop- this fic doesn’t go into smut (ik what a shocker for me to be recommending something that is straight up porn lmao) but it does deal with age gaps, and i felt the way the writer portrayed it was so well written, especially with the readers’ mothers feelings to it. dating someone older comes with a mix of feelings, the envy was well encapsulated as well as the worry where it is often people try to warn. also the ending quote was such a killer (as an oscar wilde fan hehe… im an english student i love a reference).

Nerd Leon [NSFW] {nerdy!Leon Kennedy x nerdy!fem!reader} ~ Leon and the reader are both virgins who have had a crush on one another.

this was written by @nvoirs (it won’t let me tag them but you have the link to go show them some love). i love lil nerdy leon, he's so cute, especially with the pictures above the fic hehe. honestly the reader is so relatable, the idea of someone asking you out as a joke hahah ive been there too many times, no one can force me back into high school i will claw them. i quite liked the dynamic of them learning together, hehehe it's so so hot and cute at the same time and it deserves so much more love in my humble and very correct opinion.

the last of us fics

older Joel Miller [NSFW] {older!Joel Miller x afab!reader} ~ ft nervous Joel who hasn’t dated in a while and nervous to be with the reader who reassures she wants to be with him.

this was written by @pedroshotwifey and omfg i’m like the biggest simp for joel to the point it’s honestly embarrassing lmao, i feel like they wrote joel quite well and i would imagine if he was to become involved with someone again he would be nervous and be in his head about it; i found the writing of the transition back into sharing physical intimacy really well written and enjoyable, it’s not easy to do that but the author did it so well. my fav joel oneshot.

jujutsu kaisen fics

A proper send off [NSFW] {stepdad!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader} ~ Toji puts his claim on the reader before she goes to college

this was written by @bratbby333. i feel like i died, like the author put the words on the screen and it make me curl up in a ball and squirming cuz i need toji biblically, and then i died, and then the words brought be back to heaven and then i was bonked and put into horny jail. i’m actually feral for this man. i’m feral for too many fictional men but toji is ughhhhh AHFJFKDKSKSKDDKEKSKW. i loved the descriptions of the reader almost being made for him, or more accurately, Toji making the reader made for him; the description of *SPOILERS* him moulding her pussy for his dick was YUM YUM YUM YUM YUM, i was salivating like fucking homer simpson I NEED IT.

Daddy Issues [NSFW] {stepdad!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader} ~ reader is a brat whose stopped by her step father Toji

this was written by @nexysworld and my oh my does this girl cook, I AM THE BIGGEST NEXY FAN EVER HEHEHEHEHE. i am a new recruit to the toji fan club and boy oh boy was this the most exciting oneshot to first read after finding my love for this beautiful man. I gotta say the way nexy writes toji is honestly a game changer. like he’s such a jerk that u wanna slap, but i also am enticed by how much of a jerk he is… and perhaps wanna be slapped by him- WHO SAID THAT 👀 damn.

“well, we should probably fuck. Right?” [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ reader and gojo are trapped in the prison realm with nothing else to do.

this was written by @kingkonoha. now as we have all learnt about me liking something normally isn’t in my vocabulary; if i like a piece of media best believe im putting my whole soul into it. jjk is a new edition to my fandom endeavours and heheh gojo is my first love, im such a gojo girlie IF ANYONE COMES TO DETROY MY PEACE F OFF LMAO (gojo and toji girlie fr i am). okay if you’re a gojo girlie, kingkonoha’s writing is top tier. i loved the way they encapsulated gojo’s personality, he’s so cocky in this oneshot and ugh i just can’t help but see it so on brand for gojo; also the dirty talk in this fic is like toe curling afhdisosfheisidfhwowjwf I NEED HIM IN A WAY THAT IS CONCERNING TO FEMINISM.

The fanboy guide [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ gojo is the readers number one fan and manages to finally meet them in a meet and greet.

this was written by @kingkonoha . i love obsessing over fictional men BUT OH THIS FIC RLLY HAD THE TURNED TABLES. look i dont need anyone judging my likes, i like the idea of someone, especially gojo, obsessing over me and telling me he loves me while i ride him. girlhood = hearing i love you while riding gojo lmao. i love this creator to the point they’re probably fed up on me constantly liking their stuff haha. some bits i wanna point out, the dirty talk was like A* and the way he’s obsessed and basically babbles i love u like AFHFJSWISODODOWKWNEJ this has a chokehold on me and is like feral spray for the gojo girlies to get going lmao.

Tease [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ reader teases her sensei over text, and he later shows up at the readers door.

this was written by @dark-and-kawaii . oh look more gojo fics, are we surprised, no rlly cuz he's so hot and ugh i need him so much. i love dirty talk especially sexting it's so hot, but the fact he literally shows up at the door? i was shook but like in a horny way lmao. honestly the jealousy he feels it’s like kinda embarrassing how much i love to imagine someone all jealous over me like hehe tell me how much im in ur mind rent free HAHA. honestly i love this blog, i followed for the bg3 content and stayed for like the absolute talent in every one of their works, so much love <3

i will possess your heart [NSFW] {yandere!satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ satoru thinks the reader belongs to him and will go any length to make that happen.

this was written by @bratbby333 . okay on this account we love a yandere, the idea of someone being so obsessed that it’s a danger to the lover, themselves and everyone around, A MUST!!!! honestly, it’s kinda baddddd how much i love these yandere oneshots but oh well it’s not like im gonna stop eating this up when everyone fr cooks. i honestly have to say this is the best yandere fic ive seen, like i was fangirling over the author over every word and punctuation they strung together, like huhhhhh it had me on a chokehold throughout it all. the journey of obsession and how far gojo went and his pathway to that was so well written, and the scene with the ex boyfriend and the heart ?!?!?!?! i was literally wide eyed like an owl going “WHAT OMFG”.

to be ex husband [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ ex bf gojo comes back in readers life and asks for a hand in marriage.

this was written by @arminsumi . lmao this fic made me have so many emotions. first of all, SHOKO MY BELOVED IS MY BESTIE I LOVE SHOKO. but the idea of gojo being an ex cuz he was a play boy i was like hmmm f u man, breaking my heart (like bruh i was so offended like i actually was the reader to the point i was like bruh i have to calm down) and then after when he’s getting all giggly with suguru im like hehehehe let the fucking commence i need me some gojo action. honestly this fic has an amazing balance of oooo this is sexy, to feelings of being a lil mad, but also comedic moments. it honestly encaptures gojo’s character so well, i was rlly impressed. also i didn’t know how much i needed someone to ask for marriage while fucking ahe

[n7punk]

i know this is a long shot because i remember little and i'm pretty sure i've asked before and no one knew what book i was talking about but does anyone know a book that:

came out 10+ years ago

aimed at SOMEWHERE in the 8-15yo range (i realize this is a big range, but i don't remember when i read it, just that it was in the childrens section).

is a werewolf book but there's very little werewolf in it (do you know how hard it is to find a specific, non-popular childrens/pre-teen barely-werewolf book. google does not like it)

the setting is vaguely medieval/generic fantasy although i dont remember there being much fantasy outside of werewolves. maybe some alchemy? i really dont think magic obviously existed for much of the story

the main character is a girl (Also in the 8-15 range i would guess) who is living with a family that isn't her exact birth family (stepmom, grandparents, orphan taken in, i dont remember but it was something like that) and it isn't Great but mostly because they're poor and she's the weak link i think

for some reason she gets taken to a quarry and i remember it being her family's fault. like they didn't protect her from the working draft, did it to pay off their debts, etc. she's forced to work but makes friends with the other workers and i think she ends up seeming unusual in some way (strength to work when grown men cant, healing and recovering, etc. a plague sweeps through and she's fine and it's suspicious) there.

somehow she ends going from there to the palace. i remember her having some tie with the royal family but i think she also might have just befriended their daughter or something.

she was on the run either on the way to the palace or afterwards. she hid in a barn or under a trapdoor or something

here's the distinct part: that book ends with her in the woods, discovering she's a werewolf with the help of other wolf(ves). she has an injury at the base of her neck where the hair has grown back pure white (a sign of werewolfism???)

i feel like it was setting up for a sequel but have no idea if that ever happened. a few Extremely sparse details of this book have been burned in the back of my mind for like fifteen years and i have no clue what the fuck it was. any parts of this could be incorrect/missing because ive remembered this so many times off and on over the years that idk what parts are real or my brain filling in the gaps. i might be combining two books honestly but i dont think i am.

like i feel like her birth parent(s) (maybe just one) were wolves in the woods that she didnt know were werewolves, she started showing signs of being supernatural in the quarry, someone (rasputin-ish) kind of recognized that in her and had her brought to the palace to more carefully study (unbeknownst to her, to a certain degree), she became really good friends with a noble lady there her age, discovered her family might have ties to the royal one, but was still essentially a prisoner. one night she tried to sneak out and the princess(?) caught her but then ended up covering her ass so she could climb the wall and went on the run. she hid in a barn at one point, was discovered by a family and hid from the same kind of patrol that took her to the quarry. somehow she ended up injured, limping into the woods, where she discovered she was a werewolf. and then the book ended. but that sounds so inexplicable i feel like half of it has to be wrong! so i really want to find this book again but i cant figure out what to even google to find this weird fucking story again and i would feel like a lunatic going back to my childhood library 15 years later or whatever and trying to describe this fever dream to them.

[sofasoap]

Two regrets

Pairing : John Price x F!reader (aka OC Mini MacTavish) Summary: Twice the regret, twice the heartache. Part 4 of Five Times

Warning: Mature themes. if you don’t like the idea of age gap story, turn around NOW.

Thanks to mother of my Mini MacTavish @saltofmercury for lending me the character “Mini” from her story. Go read her “The Favorite MacTavish”  !

“masterlist” for Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

“You miss him don’t you?” Your brother knows you too well.

You tried to put it all behind you. You buried yourself in work. Taking all the extra shifts you can. Started post graduate studies. Anything to let your brain overruns so you don’t have to think about him. This is what you are good at, pushing yourself on with life, until you are utterly exhausted, the only thing you do is get up, go to work, eat, and drag yourself home. Wash, rinse and repeat. 

Your colleagues even try to set you up on a few dates. Few of them are nice enough, but you just don’t feel the connection. None of them want to know your interest. None of them look at you like you are the only person in the room that they want to focus on. None of them spend the time listening to what you really want to say, your opinions on certain events or topics. None of them are Price.

“I've never seen you so unhappy Mini.” 

“.. how did you two do it?” you lean onto his shoulder, whispering. “It was hard. I have to admit.” Soap patted your head. “It took a lot of work. From both sides. We had our fair share of disagreements and fights. We got there at the end.” 

Between the two of you , you are always the one that wears your heart on your sleeve. Action before logic. All the troubles and misadventures that you got into because of it. Soap on the other hand, despite his carefree and casual manners, is actually more observant and calculating. He is always the one that pulls you back, has you on the rein. 

“ THINK before you act Mini.” He always joked he needed to stick that reminder on your forehead. “Don’t act so irrationally.” 

You regretted not listening to him. 

You regret not listening to yourself. You regret ever meeting Price, the only man that can twist your heart like this, leaving a huge hole in your heart and yet, cannot erase him from your mind. 

“How’s Mini? I haven’t heard you talking about her for quite a while.” Price stopped in his tracks when he heard your name being mentioned.

“She’s doing fine. Working way too much for my liking though.” He could just hear Soap’s reply to Gaz’s question. “Even my parents hardly see her nowadays, and she doesn’t live that far away from them.” Hearing a bit of pause and continued on, “ One good thing she has is the determination and drive to push herself on in any situation, but she will run herself haggard someday.”

Price has to force himself to walk away from the door, not to listen to anymore of the conversation.

Soap has stopped talking about his sister after the unpleasant meet up. There were no changes in the professional relationships between them, but knowing Soap, he could feel the slight hostility behind his words from time to time.

There aren’t many things Captain John Price regrets about. He always comes to terms with every decision he makes in life. Always find a valid excuse to justify it, and move on.

With you? He couldn’t. Not even trying to convince himself with the lame excuses of you are a civvie, he is a military man. You are too young for him. You are his suborident’s family.  

He regretted his words as soon as he saw the flash of hurt immediately replaced with anger in your eyes. He regretted sitting there, watching you leave, not stopping you and apologising for the worse failed apologies he had made moments ago. 

Deep down he doesn’t want to admit he longs for you. The only one that can make him forget the atrocities in the world, the dirty works he keeps convincing himself for the good for humanity. That little soft smile you give him every time your eyes meet. Just for him. This biggest regret right now is letting you slip away from his hand, with the possibility of losing you forever.

[miyaniacs]

Corrupted by Darkness

- Chapter 10 -

Chapter9 ; Wattpad ; AO3

A/N: hello … sorry for not updating, but I was busy with life tbh. But here it is and I finally have some ideas and motivation again to continue this story ^^ so I try to update more in the future :) thank you all so sooooo much for all of your feedback and the Votes - it means so much to me and I'm so thankful that you’re supporting me <3 

Noctis POV

I was shocked, I did not knew how to act or what to say. 

I haven't seen those eyes in centuries and now they are starring up at me. 

A nostalgic feeling rushes though my veins. All the good memories we shared, when humans and fae weren't even in their early stages, come back to my mind. Her eyes were full of joy, hope and light. I could stare at them for ages and get lost in the thousands of universes they showed. When the first fae walked this earth she was enlightened, happy to help them with their needs and they worshipped her. I knew it was wrong, I knew that things could turn, yet I couldn't bring myself to stop her, seeing her so happy was all I wished for, 

But now, those eyes hold nothing from that light anymore. All those years spent in isolation made her go mad, made her loose any sense of what's right and what's wrong. 

Nea... even though she took control of her body, she has to be in there somewhere. 

Reaching through the bond, I try to find just some glimpse of her, but all I see - or all Sanguis shows me - are memories... memories of all those dying humans and fae, how she burned them alive, showing me how much fun she had doing it. 

I couldn't control myself anymore. Rage clouds my mind, rage that I held in my heart for all those centuries. A rage i once held against myself, blaming myself for all the wrongs which happened. Now that I feel how much she enjoyed it, how much she enjoys torturing and using Nea's body... It all shifts to her and I can't stop the fire inside of me. 

Something blue catches my eye and in less than a second my flames hit the ground, where Sanguis stood just before. 

Azriel? Why would he be here and save Sanguis?

No... No... not Sanguis. Nea. 

Immediately my mind becomes crystal clear and I realized what I did. Sanguis couldn't burn... but Nea can. 

Sanguis knew exactly what would happen if she keeps on provoking me, trying to get me to kill Nea... something she can't do apparently, otherwise I'm sure she would have done it herself. 

Her powers... when she settled in Nea's body all those years ago, she must have accidentally given her some of her powers - Sanguis would have never allowed her to be able to control her blood manipulation skills. It's an ancient power which only runs in her family. 

But if she lost some of her powers, that means... 

Taking a deep breath I channel all of my powers into this one command I thought I've never say to her. 

"LEAVE"

Power rushes through me, into the bond and straight into Nea's soul. 

I was right. Sanguis was weaker that she used to be. Immediately the ghost of a white dragon leaves her body and flys out into the sky. 

"So you choose her?" A whisper of her voice echos though the wind. 

'I do.' I think to myself and close my eyes. Deep inside of my heart, I knew that I lost her now, even though I may have lost the real her all those centuries ago. 

But now, something inside of me shatters and I feel our connection crumble until there is nothing left. 

A pain I've never felt before, consumes every cell of my brain and I cry out. 

The ground and the mountains around us shake, rocks start falling to the ground, but I couldn't stop, I couldn't stop until l there was nothing left anymore. No pain, no hope, no light, just darkness. 

Darkness and a small little light, showing me that at least I didn't lost my bond to Nea. 

As I open my eyes again, I see various humans rushing from the college towards us, next to me crouching over two lifeless bodies, is Rhysand and some other Illyrian Fae. 

The two body's belong to Nea and Azriel. 

But no... she can't be dead. I can still feel our bond. 

Desperately I look for it inside of my mind, look for the small light - but it's not there anymore. 

Darkness rushes out of me, surrounding the whole college. 

I killed her. 

Sanguis won.

Xadens POV 

'WAKE UP NOW' Sgaeyl screams. 

My bed shakes, the walls around me shake, the whole college seems to shake. 

And the there is this deep roar shaking up every vessel inside if my body. 

Jumping out of the bed and grabbing my jacket I sprint out of the room. There is only one dragon powerful enough get the whole college shake. 

Small pieces of stone fall onto my head, other riders rush out of their rooms, horror written on their faces. 

"Xaden!" Garrick and Bodhi run towards me while I make my way out into the night. 

"What is happening?" Bodhi asks and sprints down the corridor next to me. 

"Noctis." I scream over the voices of the other students. 

"Are you sure?" Garrick asks as we finally set our foot on the grass outside and see the whole disaster. 

The college is breaking down. 

"If he doesn't stop now, we're all going to be buried under rocks here." Bodhi whispers, fear shown in his eyes. And he was right. One of the towers starts to slide towards the ground we are standing on. 

"Oh no.. no no no-" Garrick grabs my arm and drags me backwards. 

But before the tower falls to the ground, Noctis stops. 

"What the hell" Liam, who arrived next to us with Imogen, Rhi and the others, voices what we are all thinking. 

'Sgaeyl?'

'I'm fine, they are on the flying grounds.' 

"Where's Nea?" Rhi asks and looks at me, "She wasn't in her room, I thought maybe she was with you.." her voice is laced with panic as she realizes that Nea wasn't with me. 

"Flying Ground." I reply. 

But when I'm about to start running again, darkness wraps around us. 

Pure Darkness. 

I lift my hand, holding it right in front of my face but my eyes aren't able to see anything. 

It's a kind of darkness I've never seen before. 

I scream out for the others, but nothing. 

There is no sound.

Nothing. 

Searing my mind, I try to find the door connecting me to Nea, yet it's gone. 

'No.. No, No.. - Sgaeyl, tell me this isn't the reason for his outburst.'

'I'm so sorry... I - I don't know. We're stuck in the same dark as you are.' Her voice is barely a whisper inside of my head. 

'Is it shielding our magic too?' 

'It is.' 

[mooodyblue]

baby's first christmas | little!austin x cg!reader

summary: you decide to make you and austin's first christmas together a little more special.

requested: sorta!

warnings: agere, little space

wc: 806

a/n: this has been in my drafts since february. FEBRUARY. this was requested by an anon ages ago and im sooo sorry for just now posting it. like this was right when i started writing little!austin.....anyway. posting this because i havent posted in three days and i feel BAD !! writers block is kicking my butt. enjoy.

masterlist

not only was christmas your favorite holiday, but it was austin's too. what made it more special was that this christmas would be your first together. having moved in with austin several months ago, that meant you got to help decorate for christmas which was truly one of your favorite parts of the holiday. of course, there were some arguments here and there. one about wanting an inflatable snowman out in the front yard but austin wanting santa claus. you wanted white lights and austin wanted multicolored lights. at least you both decorated the tree with no arguments.

to top everything off, you learned about a new side of austin a few weeks before christmas after catching austin baby talking to a stuffie he had tucked away in his closet. he didn't know that you knew about that side of him. however, you wanted him to know that it was okay to open up to you about it whenever he was ready and by doing that, you decided you were going to spoil him for your first christmas together.

you could tell austin was really trying to hold it in on christmas morning. he was visibly excited, bouncing his leg up and down during breakfast and tapping his fingers on the table to fight off that feeling in his head. you just hoped austin didn't get upset at your choice in gifts today.

"i don't think i've ever seen you so excited." you chuckled, sipping from your christmas mug.

austin laughed awkwardly, "i just really like christmas, i guess." he toyed with his own mug, running his hands around it, feeling the smooth, warm texture of the glass. "it's our first christmas together, y'know?"

"mhm," you nodded. "first of many, hopefully." you joked, cringing slightly at your poor joke.

he looked at you with a straight face, squinting his eyes. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"bad joke. let's go open presents." you quickly said, leaving the kitchen.

austin shook his head and followed you, eyes widening at the amount of gifts under the tree. he'd gotten you a few things, but when he checked the tree last night, there definitely wasn't that many gifts there last night.

you sat down in front of the tree, grinning. "looks like santa stopped by."

austin looked at you confused, sitting down in a criss-crossed position. seeing the gifts, the idea of santa actually coming and bringing him gifts all mixed with the excitement of christmas was almost overwhelming for him. but he needed to hold it together, hoping he could find time to slip by himself later today. his thoughts were interrupted once you placed a small gift in his lap, smiling wide.

you noticed how off he was and decided to rip it off like a bandaid, having the first gift he opens be one for his little self.

he unwrapped the tiny box, careful of not ripping up the bow and setting the tinsel aside. panic arose once he opened it, revealing a small, glow in the dark paci with little stars on it. "i-what-" he stuttered, looking at you with concerned eyes.

"you don't have to tell me now. you can explain things to me when you're more comfortable, but i just-i don't know. gotta be better than just using your thumb, 's got germs and everything."

austin just wanted to cry. not sad tears, but happy tears. he just stared at the paci in awe, the feelings in his head finally coming together, as if it a switch were flicked on in his brain. his glassy eyes met yours, unsure of what to say. "'s not weird?" he finally asked, still in denial of how accepting you were of him.

letting out a gasp, "weird? of course not! i love my little baby boy, i would never think he's weird."

his lips perked up at you saying the words, pointing at himself.

"yes that's right! you're my baby boy and i love you so so much." you smiled. "in fact, how about another gift? hm?" you dug through the gifts and handed him another one, a slightly bigger box wrapped in santa themed paper. he opened it excitedly, gasping and pulling out his new plushed friend, a puppy with brown flappy ears. "did santa bring you a new friend?"

too far gone in his headspace to reply, he hugged the stuffed, plush puppy close to his chest as bounced happily, babbling tiny little 'thank you's. you'd never seen austin so happy and so comfortable around you. although you had gifts for big austin as well, seeing little austin enjoy every single plushie, toy, and sippy cups that you had gifted him as a way to show you cared was all you needed to make this christmas the best one you've ever had.

[animasola86]

Nebbia's Origin Story

You might have seen and/or read about my HL MC Nebbia DeLuca, who I kinda revived for my HL playthroughs. But this very OC has been in my brain and in several attempts at writing her story for almost a decade now.

She's also been a shotgun/blood magic wielding Templar in The Secret World/Secret World Legends, or a necromancer with a greatsword and a staff in Guild Wars 2, and a car collecting maniac world explorer in GTA Online. So having "just" a wand was quite the adjustment for her!

But enough about her alter egos, how did she come to be?

She's been in my brain ever since I came into contact with The Last of Us. That game had a serious impact on me and the stories whirling through my head. I've always been a storyteller, have written stories since an early age. I've created a lot of original characters, fleshed out, with detailed backstories, but I was never able to finish their respective stories.

The themes were always pretty similar: younger woman, older man, size difference, gruff but protective male, innocent but feisty female. Side characters were always of the jealous, dangerous kind. I've always loved taboos and kinks, and the above-mentioned dynamic is one of my favorites to write (and read) stories about.

So, inspired by Joel and Ellie's relationship, I wanted to create characters that were similar, but different. My main motive for writing was always: Something's missing in those stories, let's write it myself! It started with adding romance to a thriller, love to a murder mystery, or found family/forbidden feelings to otherwise "innocent" scenarios.

For example, I've written a story about a young woman falling in love with the married father of the kid she's supposed to babysit (I swear there's more to that story than the porn clichés, it ends up turning into a psychological drama about jealousy and domination, mental illness, murder, abduction, what's real, what's not kinda scenes; unfortunately I've never finished my first proper original work that's sitting on a USB-stick somewhere since 2011. One day I'll get to finish your story, Tasja, don't worry. You'll get your happy ending!).

And then, someday in the year 2017, I started writing a story (though the idea is much older) about a post-apocalyptic world, based on an island near my hometown. I've thrown ideas around and around, researching, visiting places, creating characters, always changing something, but the basic idea that stuck was this (I suck at summaries, btw, sorry!):

Twenty years ago, there was a black-out and society collapsed. The people on that island live in groups, as far away from each other as possible to avoid conflict, as they are all stuck there, with no way to leave the island.

Enter Nebbia, born after the End, who is a girl living in an all-female village run by a group of older women called the Elders, whose daughters (creatively named the Daughters) do all their "dirty work". Nebbia is classified as a Motherless, you guessed it, lives without a mother.

And the backstory of that, in short, is: her mother was pregnant when she was found by one of the Daughters and brought to the village, gave birth, and fled the place after she discovered their dark secret (because what's a post-apocalyptic community without a dark secret, eh?), but she left Nebbia there because she knew she would have a safe home in spite of it, that is until she turns 18, when things go really dark.

In short: there's a strange little celebration, all the girls of age are dressed in their best dresses, and then leave the village on their way to another village nearby that is run by the Men... and, uh, well, yeah, society collapsed, so they try to rebuild it, it's a breeding station, oops, you get the idea.

And that is when our male protagonist comes in: Ben, in his late thirties, a gruff, lonesome smuggler/outsider/person who doesn't have a village/group, but works between them. And he is hired by none other than Nebbia's mother, Kira, to get Nebbia and save her from the horrible fate of being bred helping society grow again.

But something happens (there's a mysterious fog that keeps the people from leaving the island, but never mind that, although that is why Nebbia is called Nebbia, because fog=nebbia in Italian, because her mother is half-Italian - also, hey, off-topic, but there's a fitness clothes store called Nebbia in the Slovak Republic, isn't that cool?) and Ben loses his memories, and when he sees Nebbia, he thinks she's Kira... and kinda falls for her, because, of course, him and her were sweethearts before the End (but they had a falling out, but he doesn't remember that yet).

And Nebbia is this innocent girl, who basically worked as a slave her whole life, can't read, can't swim, is treated very poorly, can't exist outside her village, really. (And to have such a character and let her explore the world and learn stuff and blossom would have been so interesting to write!)

So Ben saves kidnaps Nebbia from the village, and they try to find their way back to Kira... and somehow this is where my ideas froze. I wanted to show their journey through the post-apocalyptic world, how their life is, what they do to survive, who they meet, that he slowly regains his memories and realizes his feelings for this girl, and once they get to where they want to go, they find out that Kira is gone/dead/I don't know, something, aaaand their journey continues? I have no idea. I never came to those parts.

I've written so many versions of that story, in German to start with (because the island it's set on is a German island), then tried recreating it in English without the local color, but it never really worked. I didn't know where it would end.

But the characters remained inside my head, I've had so many scenarios for them because I loved their dynamic, but I've never written any of them because back then I thought I needed a full story, something with beginning and end, the whole deal. I've never written one-shots before, or even short stories. I was fixated on the whole "novel" thing, that was my goal, my dream.

But now, after having written sooo many one-shots for a fandom, just snippets of people's lives and what they do in the moment, I feel confident enough to tackle it. To create little short stories centered around those very characters: Ben and Nebbia.

I've also read so many original works on AO3 lately, and seeing how people just put their own ideas out there, for everyone to see, did something to me. I always wanted to keep my ideas to myself, because, maybe, someday, I'll finish a story and could send it to a publisher and one day have my own work in book-form, but honestly, it is such a daunting idea, when all I wanna do is tell stories.

And so now I will just tell stories. I've started by writing for these characters everyone knows and loves (and I'll keep writing Sebastian smut, don't worry!), but now it's time to branch out, give those people inside my head their story, or at least snippets of their lives, and share it with the world.

And as I write this, I am working on an AU of those characters, with a completely different setting, but the same dynamic: older man, younger woman, gruff/protective vs. innocent/feisty, love in dangerous environments. Of course, it's gonna have my usual smut elements, but also world building, side characters, character development, etc. and new things to research!

(Lemme throw in some words I learned that may give a hint to where the story is set: withers, spats, stirrup. As for the time, well, it's actually an era I've already written for, but the place is a lot more... west, way west.)

I feel very inspired, and I hope I can one day (hopefully very soon*) share their story with you.

(I've made a side blog @animasolaoriginal where I'll post it once it's done or I grow too impatient to wait! I'll also post moodboards and inspirations there - eventually! If you'd like to follow me there too, I'd very much appreciate it!)

Thank you for letting me get this out. These characters are very dear to me, and I hope, once I start uploading my original work, I might catch your interest with it, and you will start to like them too!

Edit: *I did it, I posted the first chapter! 🤠

[faejilly]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @shadoedseptmbr ages and ages ago

tagging uh... i have no fucking clue. anyone who writes! no pressure! please blame me! @fancytrinkets @la-muerta @leahazel @jadesabre301 & ?!?!?

1: How many works do you have on AO3?

178 fics, since this is a fic writer meme.

2: What's your total AO3 wordcount?

1,193,590, with the caveat that that includes a collab fic of 190,409 words of which I was primarily writing only one of three POV characters. (And also one other shorter collab and the minimal amount of words required to describe the podfic/fanmixes.)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Shadowhunters (TV) atm, a lot of BioWare Games (especially Dragon Age 2) and then a truly random smattering of smaller games and tiny!fandom prompts back when askbox games were more common here plus Yuletide/Fic Exchange Matches On Unexpected Things. (I think I've broken 20 fandoms on AO3, depending on how one counts the various DA sub-fandoms.)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

These are all Shadowhunters and Malec fics. The first three are complete, the last two are WIPs.

two are halves of one

My only posted 5+1 fic, a series of outsider perspectives on Alec & Magnus & their very long day of denied cuddles/alone time. 😅

i cannot touch because they are too near

Parabatai Feels & Magic Lore! I wrote this for a Season 3B countdown event, and it's Magnus Being A Nerd and trying to figure out how this parabatai thing works. I snuck Jace and Michael Wayland feels in there kind of sideways too. I do think it's one of the most self-indulgent things I've ever written (epistolary! melancholy comfort! No Plot!) with many thanks to @rutherinahobbit because she helped me land the ending.

with an if in its soul

So I killed Alec off-screen right before the fic starts, and proceeded to keep poor Magnus very upset about it for the following 22k words. (It gets better! I promise! No one stays dead!) I got many angry and wailing comments, I have never been so proud. (This one suffered from very dramatic scope creep while I was trying to write it, which amused tumblr a lot, and this time I have to thank @poemsfromthealley for helping to make it work. And also the blurb, because I just could not figure out how to post it for ages.)

i am for you

Epistolary!Fluff Fic that was supposed to be a bit of a missed connection thing for @pameluke but Alec instead proposed to Magnus on first sight and I just kind of went with that instead. /I am not in charge of the voices in my head

It is the first fic I ever had really break containment and get a lot of engagement/comments/subs/etc. It has been out-kudosed now, obviously as it's #4 on this list, but that's only because I killed the momentum and never finished it. 😅😅😅 ISTFG I am going to finish it some day though!

if broken hearts were whole

From a soulmates/massage combined prompt meme thing ALSO for @pameluke. I got stuck on this one largely because I had three different prequel/s1 retellings in my head at the same time and I kind of tangled them all up too much to get any of them done. I will eventually figure this one out too, but I may have to finish one of the other things to sort of clean my brain out, and I haven't managed that either.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

In theory? I got hung up on a comment from an FTH bidder the year I failed to finish my FTH fic, and didn't want to reply to their comment 'til I wrote their fic?

which doesn't make much sense, but brains are weird, so there we are

someday I'll answer the backlong. it's only like two or three years at this point? 😅😭🤣

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

so about uh... five years ago? there was a really popular gifset format from an Elizabeth Hewer poem called in one timeline and I haven't the faintest idea how to gifset so I wrote a fic for Malec instead. [ao3]

I have written other things which Have Angst, but for me I tend to ease the ending... this is one of the few where I didn't.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Everything Else! (Almost)

I think, as an exercise in the true form of Happily Ever After, I'd have to go with Fine Feathers, which is an epilogue to a Georgette Heyer Regency Romance novel I did for Yuletide 2016.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Not usually. I don't even get people yelling at me to update on my WIPs, which may be hateful but isn't the same thing 😅

/and I'm certainly not complaining about either of these things, but I wish I knew how I avoided The Discourse™️so I could do it on purpose

9. Do you write smut?

I used to pretty regularly. I was even known as a smut!fic writer when Dragon Age Fandom and I were mutually more active together. Not so much (on either the writing quantity or the requests for more smut) for Shadowhunters.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Mostly no? I did two very short ficlets for Bingo Squares. I do still believe that Leverage is the Fix-It Fandom that fits everywhere and thus only kind-of counts as a crossover, plus I wrote a Shadowhunters / Inception bit with Ariadne as a Warlock.

I do also enjoy a good fusion fic, aka using a different canon as an AU setting, rather than combining characters from two settings.

For example: Shadowhunters Characters as BAU Agents from Criminal Minds!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of? I've seen it happen to co-authors though, and other friends

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I am still stunned and amazed and delighted by this!

Batty_Blue translated several of my Shadowhunters fics into Russian:

a flower of always i cannot touch because they are too near trust your heart ashes of angels / ashes of roses

And Pomyluna translated 'First Choice' into Polish

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes!

Only once successfully (aka one and done and finished and posted), and that was entirely thanks to my co-author Raph. 😅 (Against All Odds for @galedekarios back when I knew her as Chignon on an actual forum prior to tumblr. She's who got me onto tumblr, so if you met me here? That's her fault. 🥰)

I have started things with people a few times that never got posted, and there's a massive Mass Effect retelling on potentially permanent hiatus, though all three of us do hold out hope that someday our lives will align again. (Persephone Rising)

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

Me & Sleep

(Sorry, can't do it, can't choose. Beware My Armada. With a couple ancient ship leviathans which can raise themselves from the deep with the slightest provocation.)

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Every thing I have ever posted (except for 12 Moons) is something that I do in fact hold out hope I will eventually finish.

Things I have not started posting are too numerous to count and/or list. Sometimes they come back. Sometimes they are fertilizer for other things that will be written later.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Dialogue and hopeful melancholy? I get a lot of compliments on emotion/mood, and I do feel like I am usually pleased with the, idk, vibes of most of what I write.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Plot & structure! What is? How do? What do you mean I have to have things happen rather than just reacting all the time?!?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have done it with mixed success and there are definitely ways to do it more accessibly than I did. It can add a lot, but you do have to think about the execution.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Uh. I think Lois & Clark back when I was a teen!jilly. Either that or Sailormoon when I was a slightly older teen!jilly?

In terms of posting in public, it was Bioware something, either Mass Effect or Dragon Age: Origins back around when Thing 2 was born. And he's 14 now, so... 😅

Orion's Belt, I think? I didn't originally post it on AO3, and then I deleted myself off the internet for awhile, and then I re-uploaded everything, and I'm bad at time in the best of circumstances, which that clearly was not, so it might not have been that one specifically but it was close.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I CAN'T CHOSE JUST ONE WTF

As a formative event/process, I have a certain enduring fondness for Lost for Words, which was like the first fic I really wrote while in fandom... I was social about it and posted while I was writing and finished (eventually) and it is still the longest single story I have ever written. (Tho I am for you will beat it out when I finish that.)

It's not particuarly good from the perspective of who I am as a writer some dozen years later, but it's sincerely meant cotton candy, at least. 🤣

[mystery-moose]

WELL I WAS GONNA GO EAT BUT OKAY LETS DO THIS

Here's a snippet of "alternate meeting":

She was hurt. He could tell even before he noticed the tiny drops of blood on the hardwood. Partially because she should have caught him by now, should have rounded on him blade at the ready before smiling that smile that warmed his chest and telling him that she’d clocked him ages ago and saw right through the mask he was wearing. Instead, she was in the bathroom, washing her hands under too-hot water, breathing a little harder than she should. He made sure the first sound she noticed was his voice. “Princess.” She spun, and even injured, she was fast — her knife was pointed at him exactly where he stood in the dark bedroom, harsh white light bleeding in from the bathroom. Briefly, he saw her the way any other might: a desperate animal, claws out, backed into a corner. But she recognized his voice, and the muscles around her eyes softened. The predator, soothed, faded away.

I don't usually go in for pre-canon AUs, especially in ongoing works that aren't complete yet, because I feel like... I don't have all the toys in the toybox to play with yet? And I tend to want to stick to canon as much as I can, for whatever its worth. But I've seen a few other people tackle this idea and some of them inspired me. It's definitely a way to focus in on the relationship between these two without that pesky kid and dog getting in the way!

Beyond that, I think it's a really cool idea to bring focus to things Twilight wants outside of the domestic. In canon, it's obvious he wishes he could be Loid Forger (and to an extent Loid Forger isn't really a mask at all) but I also love the idea that he might not actually want a simple family life with a simple civilian woman, but just... someone who understands him. Understands why he does what he does, has similar thoughts or feelings or experiences or background. The thought that he might still have found that with Yor under very different circumstances tickles the irony part of my brain.

Also it let's them meet on equal footing and display competency to each other, and since that does a lot for me personally I have to imagine it works for them too.

ANYWAY now here's "indulgence"!

"Gods, this is nice," he murmured. Karlach sighed, her hands playing with his, squeezing, tracing his fingers. She felt the softness of his palms as much as the brass scales on the backs of his hands. Her tail encircled and stroked his shin, and her feet tapped against the tops of his, doing a little dance. She always had so much energy when they went to bed together, energy he usually had to thoroughly expel from her in very satisfying ways… but tonight, he could tell this was all she wanted. He was happy to give it to her. “It is, isn’t it?” she said, laughing softly and kissing his palm. “Creature comforts.” “Mmhmm.” He nuzzled the back of her neck, closing his eyes. If he closed his eyes, it felt (and smelled) a bit like embracing a campfire, though a fair bit more pleasant. “Necessities, more like.” “You really are a bit of a ponce, aren’t you,” she said with a chuckle. “I am not,” he replied, feigning offense as he tickled the bottom of her foot with his toe. He felt her jump a little and it warmed him almost as much as her engine did. “I simply prefer the indoors to the outdoors. What’s precisely wrong with that?” “Pretty boring, really.” She elbowed him gently in the stomach. “Life happens outdoors.” “And I’d rather ‘life’ didn’t protrude up into my shoulder blades when I’m trying to sleep. Or seep through my tent when it storms. Or get into my bedroll and lay eggs. Or—” “Alright, alright,” she laughed, turning her head and looking over her shoulder into his eyes. “Baby.”

...so you can tell where the title came from!

I didn't really have a direction or a structure for this when I started it (the real reason for the title) but as I got further, I started to think about a selection of bedtime moments between my Tav (Sevistur the dragonborn paladin) and Karlach. The first time they sleep next to each other, the first time they sleep with each other, the first time they share a roof, the first time they share a bath or a bed. A sort of timeline of expanding boundaries and deepening intimacy.

I think the general thrust of it would be Sev coming to grips with how much he cares for Karlach, and then how much he needs to solve Karlach's condition, with him very quietly deciding what he wants to do about it. The thing is, he knows she doesn't wanna argue about it, so it's gotta go pretty much unsaid for most of it, living mostly in his interiority up until we get to the end, which has to take place in either Avernus or the epilogue. I haven't quite gotten that far!

I definitely want to, though. Karlach is easily my favorite romanceable NPC in years, and in a game that also includes Shadowheart that is saying something. It always makes me feel a bit strange to write an OC romancing a canon character, but that's kind of the whole point of BG3, and I like them too much to let that weird hangup of mine stop me, so here we are!

[alicedrawslesmis]

I hope my presence here hasn't been just me complaining, cause I haven't dedicated myself to art in a while lol I am Burned Out... I don't like being a negative presence

in the Positivistic sense not in the new age sense? you know? not pretending to be happy when things are bad, I want my presence to be pulsating with life even if I'm sad or angry or numb. I try not to fall into negation. Most millennial humor I grew up with is this kinda ironic 'haha I'm so depressed 🤪' thing I just don't vibe with at all. I like feeling all my feelings. If I'm depressed and numb to it all then good, lets explore that. If I'm lost and aimless then good, let's be aimless and see where this can lead me to. I want to feel the full breadth of human experience and not live life negating it. I want to reflect on what I'm doing I want to create new things! Work with the world and not despite it

but unfortunately cause I'm totally lost at sea rn this means my posts are lacking and so the internet "persona" ends up being only someone who complains. That's not where I'm at. I don't even know if this makes sense to other people who can't see my brain, am I even making sense. Anyway

I am experimenting with a lot of things art-wise to get my groove on. I've bean reading a bunch. I've been lifting weights which is turns out is super fun and I should've started ages ago. Like I didn't believe the gym could be fun, I thought people were just faking it but it turns out like. It's just self expression like any other activity. And I love to see number go up. And I love making that face you do when you're lifting heavy weights you know the one? And grunting. It's very freeing to just be able to do that. Like all my life I've been bogged down by thinking the gym is for assholes and that I should try to do the Normal Sports that I honestly fucking hate. I hate ball sports. I don't understand swimming as a sport you're trapped doing laps in that freaking pool it's the most boring sport of all time. Sure I liked thinking about nothing and swimming but laps in a pool?? Devil invention. Running is kinda the same although you can run interesting places and aren't trapped in a blue rectangle. Just do the sport you actually want to do. Go to a fight club idk. Learn to kickbox. Punch some stuff. Do push ups, I love doing push ups.

What else? I've been walking my dog for 2hours every day late in the afternoon and getting to hang with his friends at the dog park. He isn't very friendly but he's also not aggressive so it's mostly chill. He's made a friend named Draco Malfoy (she made sure to tell me it was her kid daughter's idea) and everyone calls my dog Sirius Black cause he's got black fur and is, and this is the technical term, giant. Kind of annoying that Harry Potter is still the main thing people go to to describe him. Except for one security guard who I thought was gonna say he looks like Sirius but then said he looks like Sam from Twilight. This was an awesome day

I've been trying to sew and mend my clothes. I replaced the buckle in my bag cause it was broken and I feel kind of amazing about it.

I've been writing some stuff. All unfinished yet. I want to see if I can finish the short story I've been trying to work on besides the Les Mis scripts. I have trouble finishing things I write, which is a problem that, if AO3 is any indication, is probably the world's most common roadblock in writing.

Went to the satanic themed goth club on good friday, that was so fun. We had a blast. Place was PACKED. All goths have the same sense of humor.

I guess that's it for life stuff. I do feel kinda bad that I can't get myself to make fanart right now. I'm just having thoughts on the nature of art and of fanart and the impact of it on the world as a whole. And particularly thoughts on social media and the internet and what it even *is*. What is it for? We really need to work that out.

[sometimesraven]

20 Questions for AO3 Writers

I was tagged in this FOREVER ago by @the-frankenman-writes I'm sorry it took me so long to get to!

1. How many works do you have on A03?

89

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

84,067 (my fics are usually pretty short haha)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Quantum Leap (TV 2022) (18)

Dragon Age (Video Games) (17)

Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) (11)

Original Work (10)

Dead by Daylight (Video Game) (10)

The Witcher (TV) (6)

The Sandman (TV 2022) (5)

Doctor Who (5)

Elder Scrolls Online (2)

Critical Role (Web Series) (1)

Torchwood (1)

F.E.A.R. (Video Games) (1)

Mass Effect Trilogy (1)

The Champions (TV 1968) (1)

Baldur's Gate (Video Games) (1)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Cold and Dark (Detroit: Become Human)

Holy, Holy, Holy (Original)

Her Sweet Kiss (The Witcher)

Just A Scratch (The Witcher)

Less Than Stellar Judgement (The Witcher)

(,,, people really like my Geraltskier whump fics huh XD)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I respond to basically every comment I get, even if all I can usually manage is some variation of "sfkgjhsfkgj thank you!!" because I have no idea how to take praise but I want the commenter to know they mean the world to me

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angiest ending?

Ooooooooof uhhhhh probably the little Detroit: Become Human ficlet I did called I Will Go Down. TW for suicide XD But there are a lot of angsty fics on there so who knows lmao

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics end pretty bittersweet but I think Hope (Doctor Who) is one of my happiest endings <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, surprisingly! My fics don't usually have much reach tbf. The only time I got anything close to "hate" was an ableist saying my disabled Dragon Age Inquisition OC is unrealistic to the setting and would likely be "with their clan or dead".

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Sometimes! Usually it's abstract (a la Holy, Holy, Holy) or porn with feelings (a la A Tale of Yearning) but I've been known to indulge in a lil PWP on occasion

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Just one! I have an ongoing Torchwood x Quantum Leap crossover 'verse thanks to @chaos-of-the-endless 😂 I also wrote a Baldur's Gate x Dead by Daylight AU recently!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I'm aware

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't believe so (please tell me if you ever do!)

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

no but some of my fics were inspired by other people or based on RP I've done in the past

14. What is your all time favorite ship?

Oh don't even XD uhhhhh right now it's Jenn&Ian from Quantum Leap and Geralt/Yennefer/Jaskier from the Witcher but my shipping loves go so far back I could never name an all time favourite

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Family Reunion :( I've been trying to write it for,,,, basically as long as I've been writing but I can never finish it and then years pass and I hate it and think it's cringe and want to start it from scratch, rinse and repeat)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Taking an impulsive headcanon and running with it. I have so many ficlets just because I thought of a headcanon and NEEDED to put it to the page. I also enjoy angst and hurt/comfort, things that expand on already existing angst and make it WORSE :3

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

In fic writing it's definitely description. I tend to get carried away in dialogue and forget to Say Other Stuff but I think I have a good handle on it now. That and smut, I enjoy writing it but I have to be either In The Mood or shut off my brain so I don't cringe so hard I delete it all bc I struggle with explicit content and get embarassed when things I'm writing are at all Kinky bc I have a crippling fear of judgement

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language for a fic?

As a reader I enjoy it! As a writer, just be careful, stick to one or two words rather than full dialogue if you don't have the time or energy to deep-google that shit

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Doctor Who <3

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

this changes daily but at the moment I'm loving Something More and the rest of my Sandman fics revolving around the dream OC I made for it. I'm in love with them and I enjoy writing their dynamic with the Endless siblings too <3

Tagging: anyone who wants to do this <3