#i love you 3000 writing challenge
Text
With Flying Colors
Summary: Your excitement about being an intern at Stark Industries turns into a nightmare you weren’t prepared for.
Warnings: 18+ content, noncon, unprotected sex, bondage, manipulation, age gap (reader is legal), power imbalance, some use of drugs, reader is smart af but also painfully oblivious, not all things that glitter are gold.
Characters: Dark!Professor!Tony Stark x F!Reader
A/N: This fic is my entry to @ironlady1993‘s I love you 3000 dark! writing challenge 2022. I’ve chosen the trope Professor/Student with Tony and F!Reader. It has been such a joy to write this and to write Tony once again. Also tagging one of my babies, @fictive-sl0th
p.s. Belated Happy Birthday to you, my dear.
Side note: The Avengers do not exist in this universe—yet.
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️
“See me after class.”
You swallow thickly and nod at Professor Stark’s words when he passes you, your head bowed down as embarrassment and nervousness mix within your veins for you’re the only one who hasn’t gotten their final paper back. You try to peek up, seeing the array of frowns and smiles on your classmates’ faces while they stare at their thesis, and you don’t understand why yours was singled out.
Seeing the professor after class, especially with Professor Stark, was never a good sign. You’ve once seen Maya run out of the lecture hall before, crying after he gave such detailed comments on her essay during the midterm exam. And you don’t doubt that you’re the next in line to receive the brunt of his tactlessness.
But you know to yourself that you’ve done your research right. You’ve cited all your resources at the back of the page and made a thorough review of all the points you’ve made about Vibranium. Yes, it was a big leap for a simple engineering student to study but you were confident with your work, and passionate even about how such an element can reshape the future.
So you just don’t understand why he hasn’t returned your paper.
“For those who passed, don’t forget that if you wish to enroll in my advanced class for senior year, application forms can be found on the school’s website.” Your professor calls as he makes his way back to the front. “And to those of you who have failed, forget about seeing me for re-dos or considerations. My office will be closed for such nonsense because my decision is final. Dismissed.”
Sighs of resignation resound throughout the room as the students pack their things and file out. You stuff your laptop back in your bag and stand, eyes looking at the door then over at Professor Stark while he stacks a couple of papers in his hand and stows them in his briefcase. You swallow thickly and make your way to the front, wishing to be one of the students to be leaving, closing up the chapter of this course.
You stand beside a desk at the front and wait for your professor at his table, hands fiddling in the pocket of your hoodie and feet anxiously shuffling against the tiled floor. There’s a subtle smile on Professor Stark’s face when he glances up at you, waiting for the door to close before he faces you completely, the grin turning full on his lips.
“Please, sit.”
You do.
He rounds his desk and leans against the edge, a file in his hands, the pages flipping against his fingers. You gulp hard, a nervous tick you’ve grown to have, when he looks at you once again, and you look down at the desk of the seat when he places the folder atop it.
“You might be wondering why I asked to speak with you.” He starts and you simply nod in response, the questions you wanted to ask dying on your tongue. “Well, I’m not here to scold you, if that’s what you’re worried about. In fact, I’m here to praise you.”
“I—I’m sorry?”
“Your paper, sweetheart, was the best one out of the entire class.” He nods towards the folder on the desk and you startle. Slowly, you open it up, and your eyes grow wide when you see the mark written in red at the top right corner.
You’re lost for words.
“You passed. More than that, you got a perfect mark.” You hear his smile and you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips slowly lift. You got a perfect mark! “Your research on how vibranium can reshape the future was very riveting.” He praises. “All your notes and the detailed analysis you constructed to make it respond to brain waves just blew my mind.” You look up at him, a wide smile now kissing your lips.
“I—I thought it was mediocre at best.” You confess. “I didn’t think—”
“But you did, sweetheart, and a lot of it.” He chuckles, his arms crossing over his chest and his head tilting to the side as he looks at you. “Although that’s not why I asked for you to see me.”
You blink, confusion filling your senses. Why else would he want to speak with you?
“Have you gotten a chance to find a place for your internship?” He asks.
You shake your head.
“Why not?”
“I’m only a junior, professor. I was hoping to get one next year.”
“But you are aware you can get one even as a junior, right?” He looks at you expectantly and you nod once again. “Perfect! How would you like to do a summer internship at Stark Industries? I could really use someone like you.” He beams and you gawk at him in disbelief. “Of course, it will be paid.” He starts once more. “The company offers its employees free meals for the day and some recreation to let off some steam from work. We can even provide for your lodging since the campus is pretty far from the company and it would save you some time from the New York rush.”
Did he just offer you an internship at his company? Stark Industries is known to be one of the leading technology companies in the world, which your professor owns, and he’s personally offering you a slot within his ranks. This couldn’t be real.
“T—That’s very generous of you Mr. Stark.” You fumble, the nervousness from earlier having already seeped out from your bones, leaving you stunned yet excited at the opportunity that is being presented to you. “I don’t know what to say, professor.”
“You can start by saying ‘Thank you, Mr. Stark.’ and end with ‘I would gladly accept your offer.’” He chuckles and you can’t help but mimic him, amused at his tenacity.
You want to think about it, to weigh the options you have in your hand. But you don’t really have anything to consider, you haven’t even begun looking for an internship. Yet, your professor is already offering you one, probably even the best one, and would you really turn away from the window? Out of all the students in his class, he chose you. Not Brandon who is a super fan of his work or even Alyssa who’s basically a show-off just to grab your professor’s attention. You.
And working for Stark Industries would no doubt boost your chances of finding another company that’s equally respectable. A big stepping stone to set your career on becoming an engineer on its course.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” You echo, a soft smile on your lips. “I would gladly accept your offer.”
“Beautiful.” Professor Stark grins, pushing himself away from the desk and walking back behind it to gather his things. You stand, all the same, picking up the folder with your thesis and tucking it between your arms and chest. “I’ll give the go signal to our HR and have them email you the details for your first day.”
“Thank you again, professor.” You thank him once more, feeling elated at the sudden turn of events.
He snaps his briefcase close and faces you. “No. Thank you, sweetheart. I can’t wait for you to join us.” He says, finishing off with a wink, chuckling at the playful act before walking with him out of the lecture hall.
A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you haul the final box into your new apartment. You weren’t really planning on taking up Professor Stark’s offer of free lodging but after being almost 30 minutes late on your first day and struggling to get into the subway during the rush hour, you caved and took on the perk, giving up your slot in the campus dormitories and packing up your things, never to see the cramped box space again.
And after seeing how spacious the provided lodging was during the tour on your first day; a two-bedroom unit with an open-concept kitchen attached to the living room, the master’s complete with an en-suite and a walk-in closet and even a balcony that oversees the New York skyline, you mentally cursed yourself for not agreeing immediately.
You could have saved all the time you used for moving and focused on your tasks in the company. Though you’re thankful for Professor Stark’s aid; giving you a couple of days off to pack and hiring movers to help you, though you couldn’t help but feel too indebted to him. Offering you the job and then helping you move, you’ll just have to pay it off by working extra hard on your internship. Prove to him that all the decisions he's made so far with you are worth it.
You close the door and begin unpacking the last box; some textbooks and sentimental memorabilia to decorate the shelves in the living room. You place a photo of your mom and dad on the side table at the end of the couch, a small smile playing on your lips as you think of how proud they would be of you once you tell them of your latest achievement.
One by one, you slide the books into place and stop short when you hear a knock on the door. Sitting the stack in your hand on the coffee table, you make your way to the front room and look through the peephole, your brows furrowing when you see a tall, stout man with curly hair, donning a tuxedo, on the other side, a bottle of, what you suspect to be, champagne in one hand and a bouquet in the other.
Who’s that? You ask yourself and let out a breath, unlocking the door and poking your head through the open space, blinking up at the stranger.
“Can I help you?” You ask.
He doesn’t respond, simply looking at you with a stoic expression yet his eyes seem to be judging you all the same. You want to close the door and hide but you don’t want to be rude either. Just when you’re about to ask once more what he needed, he holds out the flowers and the bottle to you.
“I’m sorry but you must have the wrong—”
“Compliments from Mr. Stark.” The man interjects, voice monotone and expressionless.
“Oh. Okay.” You say. Stunned. You take the gifts from his hold and your eyebrows knit in confusion when the man turns and leaves without another word, giving your thanks to the air instead.
You close the door with your foot and walk over to the kitchen to drop the items on the counter. The bottle, as you guessed, is champagne, and not the cheap kind either as you eye the label. Don Perignon. And the flowers, there seem to be almost two dozen roses in the bundle, leaning over and taking in its fragrance. Fresh.
You pick up the card nestled in the petals, carefully flipping it open, and recognizing the cursive letters of your professor’s handwriting.
‘Sorry I wasn’t there to welcome you on your first day, sweetheart.
But rest assured I will be present to officially welcome you to the company.
Have a glass of champagne for me. —T.’
You knew your professor came from old money—the history of Stark Industries is no secret to the public—but you never imagined he’d spend such things on you, one of his measly students in the university. And yet what lays before you is a piece of his wealth and you feel a slight sense of trepidation creeping up your spine if you were to mishandle such gifts.
Grabbing the bottle, you tuck it in a safe spot on the kitchen counter before rummaging through the cupboards for a vase to put the flowers in. Once you’ve placed the bouquet on the coffee table in the living room, you set back to unpacking the rest of your boxes, your eyes darting to the flowers every once in a while as the scent of the blossoms invades your senses and slowly fills the entire apartment.
The door beeps and slides open after scanning your badge on the pad. You’ve only been in the company for a week and still, the advancement of all the facilities takes your breath away. You walk to your desk, eyes blinking when you see a stack of folios ready for you to dive in. It’s not what you really wanted to do when you thought of your internship but it’s definitely something you expected.
All careers would render any individual to start from the ground up. To learn how the company works and how each department functions. And if you were being honest with yourself, you don’t really mind doing such a mundane task in the most prestigious company in the entire world.
Setting your purse on the desk, you take your seat and grab the first folio from the stack, determined to finish each one before lunchtime. But before you can even begin, a nudge on your chair takes your attention away from your task and you blink in surprise when you Professor Stark looking down at you, a coffee cup in each hand.
“What are you doing here, sweetheart?”
“Professor—I,” You blink, words stuttering, still bewildered at his sudden appearance. “I’m filing the expense reports for accounting.”
“Yes, I can see that. But what I meant was why are you doing that?”
“Oh, it’s what Ms. Potts assigned to me.” It’s the truth but with the way your professor’s lips slant, you feel you’ve made a mistake by mentioning it. “I don’t mind it—it’s nice to know the business from the ground up.” You add, an attempt to soften any blow his assistant would get.
“But this is not what I wanted you here for.” His voice sounds serious and you scramble to get the coffee cup he hands you before lifting his watch towards his lips. “J, tell Pepper to find a replacement here on the accounting floor and to have her meet me in my office later at noon.” Professor Stark turns back at you, giving you a full smile, taking a sip from his cup, and gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, chop-chop.”
You do as you are told and grab your purse, following him out of the office and through the halls toward the elevators.
“Where are we going, Professor?” You can’t help but ask when he presses the up button, shoving a hand in his pocket as he sways on his heels while waiting.
“Why sweetheart, I’m taking you to the best place in the entire building.” He responds with a grin and gestures for you to enter the lift first when the metal doors part.
Professor Stark wasn’t lying when he said that he was taking you to the best place in the entire building for his lab was indeed an engineer’s, or pretty much anyone else’s, dream. His AI, JARVIS, greeted you as soon as you stepped off the lift, startling you in the process. Though you can’t help but feel amazed at how lifelike he was despite the absence of a physical form, for his voice alone exuded emotions and understanding, making you smile when he and Professor Stark began to banter playfully.
The hologram interface that scattered throughout the room was another feature that took your breath away. How the supposedly inanimate pixels suddenly come bursting to life with one flick of a hand from your professor, how he easily manipulates it, and from further observation, he’s got complete control of it with the help of his watch and a simple silver bangle on his other wrist.
He toured you around, showing off his projects that despite being incomplete, look immaculate for someone of your status. The robots that come following the both of you as you walked around the lab made you elicit a soft giggle, loving how responsive and lifelike they were with their reactions to each action done by their creator.
But what really has you standing in awe is the full metal suit laying atop a metal desk, with electrical wires attached to it from the ceiling and a holographic chart showcasing its readings on the side. You stand close, seemingly becoming hypnotized by its beauty. You run a finger against the metal arm, the cool surface chilling your skin yet weirdly warming you all the same.
“I call it Iron Man.” Professor Stark says as he stands beside you, looking down at the coffee cup in your hand when he takes it and discards it in a nearby bin. “A fully functional armored suit, furnished with the latest weaponry that I made myself.” A grin forms on his lips when you look up at him. “It’s currently under testing but still top secret so—” He places a finger over his lips and your eyes grow wide in surprise at the information.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, Professor!” You blanch and quickly turn away, taking a step back to have the suit out of your view. “I promise not to tell anyone of—”
“Relax, sweetheart.” He chuckles and walks over to you, his hands resting on your upper arms, giving them a light squeeze. “This is exactly why I brought you here, why I wanted you to be here.” He says with a smile.
“Y—You want me to test your suit?” You’re not claustrophobic but the thought of being inside such a tight space makes your heart beat faster.
“Heavens no.” He laughs and squeezes your arms again before sliding his hands down the length of it and taking your hands in his, Professor Stark walking backward and leading you back to the suit. “I wanted to try and turn the suit completely into vibranium. I’ve tested this baby out so many times and don’t get me wrong, it’s very durable but after taking a couple of hits, it needs to go back into the shop. But with vibranium, this would be the most indestructible piece of engineering on the planet.”
“You want me to make you a full vibranium suit?” You ask.
“I want you to make it with me.” Professor Stark corrects, releasing your hand and giving the arm of the metal suit a pat. “Even more, to embed the element into nanotech and have it respond to a single neurotransmitter.”
You gape at him in disbelief. You’ve only known such a feat to be a theory and that each person that has attempted to create such a thing has done everything and still failed. Yet your professor is asking you to make one with him, something you’ve only ever read about in articles and have never even tested on your own. Hell, you’ve never even seen vibranium with your own eyes.
You look into his eyes, brown orbs full of sincerity then glance down at the suit. So much doubt begins to run around your head, the fear of failure creeping up your spine all the same. Deep down, you want to do it, you want to try but the lingering thought that you would fail at this project, fail your mentor, won’t leave you alone and you’d rather do the paperwork down at the accounting floor than mess up a top-secret asset of your professor, who is also now your boss.
“I don’t know, professor.” You sigh and pull your hands from his grasp. “The scale of work has only been theorized and the tests that have been done have all failed. I wouldn’t want to waste any resources you’d give me.” Your lips curl into a frown as you look up at him. “I can assist you if you wish but to be the one to create it? I don’t think I can. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“But I believe you can and you can never disappoint me, sweetheart.” He smiles at you, your skin shivering when he runs his fingers up your arms, hands gripping down on your shoulders. Your eyes grow wide when he takes a step closer, your bodies only inches apart. “I’ll be here to guide you and if we fail, we try again. And again and again, until we perfect it. And once we do, you’ll have your name written in the history books—well, with my name along with it, of course.” He chuckles and you can’t help but smile at his playfulness.
“So? What do you say?” He grins, his fingers tapping along your shoulders as he keeps his eyes on you.
Your university had once coined Professor Stark as one of the smartest people in this generation. And if your professor has such faith in your capabilities, maybe you are capable of accomplishing such an extraordinary feat. He’s there to guide you, either way, he said so himself, and if you do fail, at least you can tell yourself that you tried.
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes to clear your thoughts. When you open them once again, you see the shine in Professor Stark’s eyes, the expectation in them.
You nod. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“That’s my girl.” He grins widely, your face going hot when he leans over and places a kiss on your forehead.
The act takes you by surprise, making you step back and have his hands slide from your shoulders. You look up at him, eyes wide, stupefied, yet your professor seems unbothered by his intrusion into your personal space.
“Sir, I’d just like to remind you of your meeting with Ms. Potts at noon and it’s already 11:30.” JARVIS intervenes and you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when Professor Stark steps away.
“Thanks, J.” He says to the air, keeping his eyes on you. “JARVIS will keep you company while I’m in the meeting but in the meantime, make yourself comfortable, and when I come back, we can start playing. Sounds good?”
You nod instead, the words not forming in your head as your thoughts still linger on the unexpected kiss.
“Great.” He gives your nose a light tap, his nose scrunching when he smiles before turning to leave the lab.
You remain standing, still in shock at what happened but try your best to push such thoughts away. He just got excited. You tell yourself. It is a big project. Another attempt at convincing yourself and you move to look down at the suit once again before claiming a seat on one of the stools propped beside the table.
You hear JARVIS call your name, looking up at the ceiling to acknowledge him. “Would you like me to show you where the vibranium is?” He asks.
That somewhat makes you smile and you nod at no one. “Yes please, Mr. Jarvis.” And you stand from your seat, following the instructions of the AI, and walk towards the door that slides open, staring in awe as cylinders of the element stand before you.
The work finally begins. Weeks have come and gone, and all that you’ve ever come to know is Professor Stark’s lab, working and experimenting with various ways to produce the outcome that your mentor expects from the element. You’ve only been researching so far, testing theory after theory on how the element would bind with the nanotech Professor Stark has at the ready. But each virtual attempt has proven to be a failure, having you go back to the drawing board to start from scratch once again.
“Let’s take 5, sweetheart.” Professor Stark calls from the other side of your desk after another failed test.
You nod and slide from your seat, asking JARVIS to continue running some tests, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips as you make your way to the open balcony. You’ve been on the computer for hours now, codes and holographic diagrams being your constant company. You know that you’re missing something, something important to have all the pieces fit—but you just can’t find it.
The summer breeze of New York City is a welcome distraction as you step out into the open air. You look down from where you stand, seeing the streets busy and full of life yet the noises don’t reach you from where you are, the silence feeding into the tranquility that slowly embraces you. Even the view is breathtaking. The sun is already beginning its descent, orange and blue hues painting the sky, making the buildings underneath glow in beauty.
You take a calming breath, one that you think you desperately need to help clear your mind and bring you back to focus on the task you’ll be facing.
“Enjoying the view?” You startle when you hear Professor Stark beside you, his hand resting just at the low of your back as he leans his side against the railing.
You quickly compose yourself and give him a light nod, looking back at the picturesque sight before you. “I never thought New York could be so beautiful.”
“It’s what I love most about this place.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely though?” You couldn’t help ask.
“I have JARVIS and the bots with me.” He chuckles and glances inside his lab before looking back at you. “And now I have you. If all things work out, I might just make you my assistant.”
“Your assistant?” You blink in surprise at his words. “But everything I’ve been doing has been—” The words you wish to say face away when you hear a loud beeping coming from the inside. You look at your professor, the expression on his face equally surprised and you both make your way back into the lab.
The hologram by your computer has changed from cyan to yellow and you stand in awe as you watch the image playing before you, the vibranium slowly wrapping around the atoms and binding together before bleeding around the model of a human, successfully forming the suit.
“I believe your theory has proven to be successful,” JARVIS says.
“But—h-how?” You ask, rounding the desk to sit in front of your computer, looking closely at the formulas you’ve curated.
“I kept running tests just as you asked and took the liberty of adding the power to the stabilizer. Your equations are correct but the equipment simply needed a little modification.”
You scan the tests and sit in utter disbelief as the words of JARVIS prove to be true. You did it. Although with a little help from your professor’s AI, you actually did it! You can’t help the smile that slowly forms on your lips as you dwell on the thought that it was all because of your research and the theory you created that has deemed the project to be a success.
“What happened?” Professor Stark asks after, peeking at him from your computer. “What is J yapping about?”
“It worked.” You say with a steady voice as you stand from your seat. “My theory worked.”
Professor Stark moves to stand beside you behind your desk, his hands pressed against the surface as he leans forward to look at the hologram. A smirk forms on his lips and he looks at you, a glint in his brown eyes before he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, tapping the side of your hip.
“I knew you could do it, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” You bask in his praise, feeling your heart feel full at making your professor pleased with your work.
“I wouldn’t have done it without you, professor.”
“Tony.” He says out of the blue and you look at him curiously. “When you’re in the lab, I’m not your professor and you are not my student. We’re colleagues.” He explains. “So please, call me Tony.”
“Okay—T-Tony.”
You feel a slight unease as his name rolls through your tongue. You’ve never called any professor by their first name before, thinking it to be disrespectful towards them to assume any sense of camaraderie especially if they didn’t welcome it. But Professor Stark did ask for it and you somewhat see the sense in his account, that you both are colleagues in such a setting.
“Say it again,”
You look up at him in confusion, your teeth worrying your bottom lip before whispering his name once more.
“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”
“Tony.” You raise your voice an octave and blink in surprise, blushing intensely when he plants a kiss on your cheek.
“Good girl.” He chuckles and pulls away, leaving you stunned by your desk. “Calculate the time frame for the complete binding process.” He calls out loud to JARVIS.
“I already ran the numbers, sir, and upon initial estimation, it will take approximately 2 days.”
“Then I guess we better get to work.” Professor Stark grins in your direction, giving him a light smile before turning away to press a hand against your cheek, your thoughts running wild as you dwell on the sudden kiss.
You and Tony decide to take turns staying in the lab to watch over the stabilizer as the binding process runs its course. It took a while for it to start, with both of you modifying the equipment needed to be used to turn your theory into a reality. Even with the labor proving to be tough, it was but a small feat worthy to endure as you watch each progress bar glow in success.
You watch the moon shine brightly in the night sky through the transparent wall of the elevator, making your way toward the lab. You try to hype yourself up and prepare for the grueling 7 hours of doing nothing ahead. Though after your first watch, you decided to bring along your computer this time and catch up on some reading before you go back to university the next month.
JARVIS' voice makes you smile when he greets you upon your arrival, the double doors of the lab opening in an instant for you to enter. Setting your bag on the couch, you hum in confusion when you don’t see Tony inside.
“JARVIS?” You call the AI, walking towards the screen to check any changes in the progress. “Where is Professor Stark?”
“He was called for an emergency meeting. But rest assured I would send him any updates of any changes to the process.”
“No need for that. You can just tell him that I’m already here.” You smile up at the ceiling and make your way back to the couch, looking down at the bottles of energy drinks gathered on the coffee table in front of it.
“Mr. Stark says to help yourself with the drinks. It could help keep you up during the night.” JARVIS adds.
You give the AI your thanks and pull your computer from your bag, getting comfortable on the couch as you boot it up and diving head-on to the first reading topic you pull out for your senior year.
The hours slug by and the words on your screen begin blending with each other. You check the time and groan upon seeing it’s only 2AM, giving you 4 more hours to spend in the lab. Even with the project being an exciting and once-in-a-lifetime experience, you can’t help but find the wait to be boring. Yes, it’s part of the process but you think it would be more efficient to have JARVIS oversee the project himself and inform either you or Professor Stark of any problems that may arise.
You blink away the sleepiness from your eyes and slip the computer off your lap, reaching over for a bottle of energy drink on the table. You twist the cap open and take a heavy gulp, wanting the sugar to kick in immediately to keep you wide awake before your shift ends.
You stand from the couch, clutching the bottle in your hand, and decide to take a walk around the lab, hoping it would help to keep the lingering exhaustion at bay. The stabilizer seems to be in check, each progress bar ticking off as complete before another begins.
You do another lap around the lab, looking at the assortment of gadgets and equipment your professor has laying all over the place. The suit remains dormant on the steel table, lifeless and still yet looking all too vibrant in its metallic glory. You run a finger against its steel surface, amazed at its structure when a yawn forms at your lips, having you take another swig of the sugary beverage.
But your eyes begin to droop, your head feeling all too light that you make your way back to the couch, the plush cushions looking enticing as you drop yourself on it and lay your head against the armrest. Professor Stark wouldn’t mind if I take a quick nap, right? You ask yourself but before you could even debate for it to be a bad idea, your eyes close on their own accord, your mind going blank and the darkness completely taking over you as you fall into slumber.
You dream of flight. Your body light as you soar through the clouds, swimming over the skyscrapers of the city. A cool breeze brushes against your cheek and you smile at the pleasurable sensation that ripples through your body. Your arms are spread wide, a bird basking in the aerial domain. You look behind when you feel a tingle down at your legs and you see a streak of red and yellow breaking the peacefulness of the sky.
Then all of a sudden, something pulls at the pit of your stomach and you’re falling fast toward the ground. A sense of panic washes over you as you flail your arms, trying to grasp for anything to save you but nothing comes to your aid. You try to scream, hoping anyone would hear your cries but no sound comes from your mouth. The earth comes closer by the second and you close your eyes as you await your death.
You wake in a jolt, your chest heaving as you pant heavily, trying to regulate your breathing and grab a semblance of reality from the dream-turned-nightmare. The ceiling looks different and the couch you fell asleep on feels all too wide. You’re cold, a chill kissing your skin that slowly shakes you awake, and it's then that you finally realize that you’re naked.
“Wha—” You try to speak but a moan escapes your lips instead when you feel something smooth and wet lap against your soaking cunt.
“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” You hear the voice of your professor echo through the room, fear crawling up your skin when you look down between your thighs and see his brown orbs staring at you, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Just as I’ve imagined.” He smirks and crawls up from where he’s kneeling, his face hovering over yours.
“Professor—” You cry and try to push him away, but such attempts are a defeat when you look up and see your wrists bound with silver restraints, the fibers glowing blue and purple with each tug you make.
“Sweetheart, I told you to call me Tony.” He whispers, grabbing your chin with his hand and pressing his lips against yours.
He slips his tongue through your lips and kisses you hard, his mouth devouring yours whole as he dominates you through the kiss. You try to move away, to stop him from his assault but you’re rendered helpless as his hold on your chin tightens, almost to the verge of pain making you stop altogether and allow him to do his lecherous act.
You gasp for air when he pulls away, moving your face away when his lips trail down to your jaw then to your neck. Tears begin to spring from your eyes as you continue to pull on your restraints. Confusion clouds your mind as you question how it has come to this, that your professor has pulled you into a nightmare you never saw coming.
“I’ve waited for so long and now you’re finally mine.” He mumbles against your skin, looking up at his blurry image when his face lingers above you once again.
“I—I don’t understand.” You whimper, wriggling against the bed when he pushes his clothed pelvis flush against yours, rolling his hips, the fabric of his pants rubbing against your clit. “Why a-are you doing t-this, professor?” You say in between grunts then yelping in pain when you feel a zap of electricity sting your wrists.
“I told you to call me Tony.” He growls and pushes himself up, your eyes widening when he pulls off his shirt, witnessing the contours of his muscles lining his bare torso. He then makes work of his pants, the soft sound of his zipper seeming all too loud as dread completely takes you over.
He pulls off his pants and kneels back down on the bed, hands running up and down your bare thighs, your arms aching and going taut from the metallic restraints when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you against him. You cry when he rubs the length of his cock against your folds, rolling the tip against your swollen clit which makes you whine and cry even more in turn.
“You ask why I’m doing this?” He echoes your question as he lines himself against your cunt, closing your eyes when he slowly inches the tip of his cock inside you. “Because I can.” He snarls and impales you in one swift move, a pang of pain surrounding your pelvis from his sudden intrusion.
You grit your teeth when he bottoms out, feeling yourself grow full from his size. You didn’t think he’d be big but the pain that radiates through your pelvis as your pussy walls clench around him tell you otherwise. He groans, his head tilted back as he stays still, allowing you to adjust to his girth but you have difficulty in doing so with your body remaining tense.
You try to push him away, flailing your legs to push him off but you’re no match for his strength. His hands push your thighs apart, pinning them to the bed, whining when he slides out of you and slowly thrusts himself back in.
He starts at an easy pace, watching himself slip in and out of you. But his impatience eventually grows, picking up the rhythm of his hips and you shut your eyes tight when he begins to fuck you fast and hard, all the same, your body jostling against the mattress, slamming himself against you at a brutal pace.
You close your eyes. You try to think this all to be a dream, some horrible night terror that you’ll be waking up from any time soon, but such attempts are futile when his hands begin to linger, feeling them clamp on your shoulders from behind and his hot breath fanning over your cheek.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart.” He says in between grunts, his face pressing against the side of yours, knees tucked underneath your thighs, shifting the angle of his cock and letting out an incoherent moan as you feel him slide deeper within. “Watching you in my class for three fucking years and now you’re here.”
You try to drown out his words, wishing them to be lies. He’s your professor, a mentor you’ve looked up to for so long. You did the work. You paid attention. You’re not the best but you’re also not the worse. And still, you don’t understand what you’ve done to garner his attention, that he'd pull you into this nightmare disguised as a dream when all you’ve ever been was a diligent student.
“Tony—please,” You try to beg for him to stop but the words drown in your tongue, turning into a reluctant moan when he hits that sweet spot hidden within.
Your body then ripples in desire, the unwanted pleasure filling your senses as your feel your body tighten. It shouldn’t feel this good, you should detest it but with each thrust he makes, with each rub of his pelvis against your clit, the only place you see going is up, soaring high as your arousal gradually reaches its peak.
Your walls tighten around him and he growls like some feral animal, his lips sloppily kissing your cheek while he whispers your name in staccatos.
“That’s it, baby—” He grunts, one of his hands releasing your shoulder and reaching down to fondle your swollen bud. “Say my name.”
You clamp your lips shut, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of his desire. But your wrists sting once more, making you cry out in pain, panting heavily as your heartbeat spikes both from the electricity pinching your skin and the man taking you as he pleases.
“Say it!” He repeats, punching the air from your lungs as he slams himself hard against you.
“Tony,” You whisper, his name sickening rolling against your tongue.
“Louder!” He commands.
And you give in, chanting his name, again and again, your voice and the sound of your skins slapping with each other bouncing off the walls of the room, filling your ears, filling your senses.
“Yes—” He growls, muttering nonsense against your temple as his fingers and cock work you in tandem.
The tension in your stomach builds and builds, the dam ready to break with each flick of his fingers on your clit and each pulse your pussy makes. The pressure he adds on the bud only pulls you higher into ecstasy and all at once you find your release, your pussy fluttering around his cock as you come tumbling down from the sky.
You feel him throb inside you, his words growing erratic with each thrust he makes. He then comes all together and you mewl when his seeds fill you up, coating your slicked walls. You lay almost lifeless on the bed, chest heaving, moans leaving your lips as he begins to give you shallow thrusts, riding out his orgasm and pumping every last drop into your cunt.
Your name tumbles out of his lips once more and you feel him go still, keeping his cock inside as he too pants heavily against your side.
“Tell me you’re mine, baby.” He whispers against your cheek, his hand leaving your clit only to run it up your abdomen and cup your tit, giving it a light squeeze when you don’t respond to his command. “Tell me.” He repeats with strength.
You let out a heavy breath, the tears spilling from your eyes once again as you try to form the words on your lips if only to please him, to keep the anger he keeps hidden within at bay.
“I—” You swallow thickly. “I’m yours.”
You stand at the side of the stage with your other classmates, waiting for your name to be called. Today was supposed to be the best day of your life, one you’ve been waiting for since you entered university. But you can’t find it in you to be happy on your graduation for all the glee has been sucked out of you since that day your professor showed his true colors.
He retired in the middle of the school year. An organization called SHIELD asked for his assistance after he presented himself as Iron Man. You would have been proud of the suit if things didn’t go the way they did, if your professor remained your mentor and didn't turn into your captor. But every time you see the name on the news, or even the image of the suit, all you feel is fear. Fear towards the man you once trusted and the power that he has at the palm of his hand.
Your thoughts are broken when Maya taps your shoulder from behind, looking at the stage to see Michelle finishing her bow and leaving at the other side. Your name is then called and you put on a fake smile as you meet the dean, shaking his hand and taking the scroll of parchment from his grasp before standing center stage and giving a deep bow.
You were deemed Valedictorian of your class. A recognition that was given to you upon the university’s knowledge of your helping hand on the Iron Man suit. A recognition you don’t deserve after Tony’s blatant words.
“You’re not here because you’re smart. Your brain isn’t that special, sweetheart. You’re only here because I wanted you to be here. I just got lucky that your thesis matched with what I was working on and it was the perfect excuse to have you in my tower.”
After the ceremony, you meet with your parents. Both of them hug you tightly as they tell you how proud they are of you. You smile at their words if only to hide your true feelings about the occasion. Nevertheless, you still bask in the freedom that is bestowed upon you with Tony being away on a mission with a band of people they call The Avengers.
“We made reservations at 9th Brewery.” Your mom says with a smile, her arm wrapping around yours as the three of you make your way to the parking.
“9th? Isn’t it expensive there?” You ask and they simply chuckle at your disbelief.
“Our Valedictorian only deserves the best.” Your dad comments, a small smile forming on your lips when he places a kiss on your temple.
You congratulate some of your classmates as you pass them by. Receiving their greeting all the same while some try to stop you and ask for details about working with the most famous man in the world. You try to escape them all the same for you have nothing to tell them, wishing to erase that part of your life, but you stop dead in your tracks when you see Tony just up ahead, looking pristine in a three-piece suit, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You feel a sense of worry wrap around you when he walks towards you and your parents.
“Congratulations, sweetheart.” He greets you, walking past your parents and pressing a kiss to your lips. You take the flowers when he holds them out to you, whispering your thanks before looking at your parents when they stare at you and Tony, question evident in their eyes.
“You’re Tony Stark.” Your dad breaks the silence. “You’re Iron Man.” And Tony grins at him proudly, wrapping an arm around your waist as he holds you close to him. “Why did you kiss my daughter?”
“You haven’t told them yet, sweetheart?” Tony chuckles and holds out his hand to your father. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.” He says, a wide smile on his lips as your dad shakes his hand. “As well as you, ma’am.” He greets your mom next, taking her hand and placing a light kiss on her knuckles.
“Uhhh—mom, dad, this is Tony and uhhh—” Your hands get clammy as you try to find the words to say. What do you tell them? That he was previously your professor? What would they even think when they find out such information after seeing his public display of affection?
“I think what your daughter is trying to say is that she and I are together.”
You frown upon seeing the expression on your parents’ faces, your dad seemingly excited and your mom, in shock.
“But aren’t you her professor?” Your mom asks. “Sweetie, you never mentioned you were seeing someone.” She turns to you, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you feel the anxiety creep up your skin
“I know it’s somewhat of a surprise but I assure you everything is legal,” Tony says coolly, feeling no shame as he places a kiss on your cheek. “We are both consenting adults and I was no longer a member of the faculty when we engaged in our relationship. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Your stomach rolls in disgust at how easily he lies to your parents’ faces. And what’s worse is how they seem to believe every word he’s saying. The shock on your mother’s face seems to dissipate and your father is all too oblivious, all smiles as the fame of the man at your side cloud his judgment.
You squeak when Tony’s hand pinches your waist when you don’t answer immediately, feeling a small wave of electricity rippling through your skin from the necklace he’s given you; a smaller replica of the arc reactor he’s embedded on his chest.
You nod and force a smile, leaning closer against Tony’s frame and resting your head against his shoulder. “Yes, honey.”
#tony stark#iron man#tony stark x reader#dark tony stark#dark!tony stark#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark au#iron man au#mcu au#i love you 3000 writing challenge#with flying colors#coconut bun stories
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Warm, Soft and all the other things that I can only be with you
Kanene's notes: Ok, I just had NO IDEA that I would come to like Jiang Cheng as much as I do when I first watched mdzs. Maybe I should've realized when his first apparition is LITERALLY coming right when Jin Ling is being defeated by Wei Wuxian and calls him saying that >:[[ his jiujiu will kill him and aaaaaa Wei Wuxian asks who his uncle is and then KJHGFDEFGH JIANG CHENG LITERALLY APPEARS FROM NOTHING SAYING "I'm his uncle. Any last words?" BRUHH. He just breaks me. aughhh ALL OF THEM MAKE ME GO INSANE!!!
Anyway this story isn't about any of this. It's about Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen being absurdly in love and playful and cute and silly <3 All the thanks and applause and hugs for @squeaky-n-blushy for spending literally HOURS screaming about mdzs+tickle scenarios because it helped me so much to brainstorm here kjhgfdfghjk
Warnings: This is a bit of more intense story than the usual that I write, so be warned. There's angst and lots of fluff. Also a suggestive joke (LOOKING AT YOU WEI WUXIAN) and some making out in the fic but it's really not the main focus here and a quick thing. Lots of teases, tickles, kisses and more teases. Especially about losing control. Romantic setting. Around 13.000 words. Mainly Ler!Jiang Cheng and Lee!Lan Xichen.
[~*~]
Jiang Cheng was not jealous.
He was fine. Great, even.
He was just... curious.
There were a plentiful of words that could be used to describe Wei Wuxian.
Insufferable. (Strong). Troublesome. (Joyful). Annoying. (Smart). Stupid. (Traitor). Stubborn. (Sacrificial). Careless. (Mischievous). Impulsive. (Brillant). (Genius). (Caring). (Important). (Family). (Stupid). (Stupid). (Stupid).
(Brother).
And, if needed, Jiang Cheng had all of those and much more that he used on a regular basis every time they got stuck in one of their usual bickering matches, both of them still learning how to tip toe the lines between hurt and healing, family and enemies.
It was hard. Confusing. Good. Exhausting. Raw. They would fight and punch each other across the bonds during a heated match - that were actually growing less and less frequent, thankfully - or extend an olive branch in each other’s direction and not comment on how small it looked in the ocean between them.
But both of them grew up in the Lotus Pier and no water body could ever scare them. Bandages and cuts decorating their hands as they kept building the bridges and boats to forgive and find each other someday.
Day after day.
Jiang Cheng shook his head, dissipating those overly sensitive thoughts. All of that was irrelevant and not at all where he wanted to get. Unfortunately, by doing so there wasn’t anything else left to distract him from the little lightheaded, annoyed (flustered) feeling that was taking over all his senses after what happened.
(What just happened?)
He clenched his jaw and huffed, still confused, still annoyed. His steps sounded firm and clear as he kept his determined stride to the room he already knew so well, not even glancing at the young cultivators that knew better than to interrupt him when he looked like this, even if they seemed much more relaxed with his presence at the Cloud Recess after seeing it so often.
Never, ever Jiang Cheng could describe Wei Wuxian, the Patriarch Yilling, one of the most feared cultivators across all the sects, the black spot in Lan Quiren's golden record, the most irresponsible uncle and brother this world had ever seen, as embarrassed.
The scene had hit him like a brick and Jiang Cheng didn’t even mean to see it in the first place! He could pretty much actually go on with the rest of his entire life without ever picturing for a single second what Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan liked to do in their freetime together.
Nowadays, however, both of them spend more time over each other than away, absolutely shamelessly, with no care about who was watching or where they were. With Wei Wuxian drapping himself over his husband's lap during dinners and conferences and Lan Zhan spending every night when the other is away in a hunt or a visit to the Yunmeng sect playing his guqin melancholically through the night and the early hours of the morning to express his deep feeling of longing and pining.
(Thanks everything that Jiang Cheng was never actually there to witness the last one, being an information that Lan Huan shared with him recently with an amused smile on his lips. Because he was pretty sure that if he was living in Gusu Lan and had to endure their constant show of unyielding affection for each other he would end up breaking that damn instrument into pieces.)
So, it was no surprise that Jiang Cheng was forced to witness his brother’s love life first hand again. Because he had been a fool who accepted to have a tea over Wei Wuxian’s house and even more of a fool to believe that his brother, the very one who called him in the first place, would be actually prepared to receive him on the time he himself choose and perhaps be there to show him at least a hint of respect and hospitality that the leader of Yunmeng Jiang Sect deserved and open that goddamn door at once!
(And, yes, maybe he was still jittery about Wei Wuxian’s death. Maybe when he heard the cultivator of resentful energy shout - even though loud noises are forbidden in the Cloud Recess - and the sound of something heavy falling following suit his mind got somehow clogged and his knocking louder and more incisive the longer no one answered him. Maybe he forgot for a moment that they were in the Gusu Lan Sect and, for the first time in a long while, it was only him and Wei Wuxian against the world again. This time he would not run the fuck away.)
However, when the door opened - a better description would be “was forcefully ripped away from his path, but that was irrelevant - the scene that greeted him had absolutely nothing to do with blood or pain or any kind of danger.
(Not one that Wei Wuxian wasn’t more than used with, at least.)
“What” his voice trembled, no longer with a jittery feeling, but with a barely concealed annoyance. The electricity cracking from Zidian danced now in his arm for an entire different reason than getting ready for a fight. “Is happening here?”
Wei Wuxian squealed on the floor, squirming on the ground like a worm on a rainy day as his husband’s hands danced dedicatedly on his torso at a tickly pace.
“Punishment.” Lan Zhan answered, stoic and direct as ever, totally impassive under Cheng’s blasting glare. Especially because he didn't see it, not even bothering to look up from his position, gaze clued on Wei Wuxian’s face almost hypnotized, as if it was the only image that could ever matter in the world.
(Urgh.)
“A-Cheng!”
It was ridiculous, really, how only that (and who knew he still had in him to call Jiang Cheng in such an affectionate form) was enough to make his eyes immediately snap into Wei Wuxian’s direction, something relaxing in him when he acknowledged the usual playful tune he already knew too well.
“What.”
“Hehehelp me!”
Jiang Cheng could feel an artery pulsating in his forehead, they both falling easily in their usual push and dance. “Stop being dramatic, he is barely touching you. Get up and use your hands!”
“No, I can't!” His whine was quickly taken over by more giggles, his entire body contorting in protest at the playful attack as he kept his dramatic wailing. “I will rip Lan Zhan's headband! Please, A-Cheng!”
Jiang Cheng almost had a whiplash at how quickly his head turned to look at Lan Zhan’s naked forehead and then at Wei Wuxian's hands, seeing that they were in fact bonded by the delicate, white band that the Lan Sect was known for.
The headband. A sacred symbol of resilience and restraint, an extension of yourself that could only be touched by your close family and your significant other, being used as an illusion of a bondage in a meaningless punishment of a childish game.
Lan Zhan’s expression continued just the same as it always did, impassive and serious. Yet, he managed to look extremely smug all the same. He was fully aware of the trap he just put his husband into, knowing Wei Wuxian would rather endure far worse tortures than tickling instead of giving the headband left in his care a single strain or tear.
Shameless.
He scoffed.
(Jiang Cheng ignored how he himself felt when Lan Huan let him touch his own headband. He took the ends of the white fabric and freely gave them to Jiang Cheng in one of their quiet evenings, only so they could be woven into the braids of the Yumneng Sect he was occupied in replicating, eyes focused and movements certain as he styled the other’s long, beautiful black hair. How soft and small it felt in his palms. The meaning of that act. How reverent and careful Jiang Cheng was during the entire process, holding the white fabric into his calloused hands while his fingertips and soul trembled with emotion.)
And then those two were just playing around with theirs. They really have no shame!
“Always asking me to clean up your messes, fight for this one yourself! Don’t you remember that you called me here to have tea in the first place? Have you really lost all the sense of respect?”
Wei Wuxian only giggled harder. Whether it was because he always thought it was fun how upright Jiang Cheng was about both of their reputations and how easy it had always been to rile him up about it or because Lan Zhan now changed his absolute nonsense of a tickle attack to focus on his sides, it was uncertain.
“Don’t be so grumpy, A-Cheng!” He squeaked loudly when Lan Zhan tweaked his lowest rib (of course he discovered about that specially ticklish spot, Wei Wuxian had always been so obvious about it, crackling and squirming like crazy when Jiang Cheng did no much than just glaze over it). It didn’t take long before the new sound was completely engulfed by a new round of even more uncontrollable snickers, his legs kicking desperately with energy. “Your face will get stuck in a frown forever! Like a sour plum!”
And, of course he would use his every ounce of oxygen to tease him. Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to replicate.
“Mn.” Lan Zhan interrupted. (Was that an agreement?!) “You’re early.”
The leader from the Yumeng sect crossed his arms defensively, refusing to look too much into the meaning of the other’s words. Another scowl formed in his face. “Of course I am early. Like an actual adult that has more responsibilities and matters to attend to than to get into childish games like tickle fights.”
If that could even be considered a tickle fight at all. It was nothing like the wars he and Wei Wuxian used to get when they were kids, far away from their parents and with too much energy, time and laughter to spare. More often than not they would be rolling on the soft soil or giving the other a surprise ambush in the middle of the piers, squeezing, digging and tickling anywhere they could reach. Teasing, taunting and threatening each other with every sound and laughter. Using all the tricks and pages on the book to get the upper hand for at least a few giddy, breathless seconds. Big smiles, warm hearts and adrenaline running freely in their bones for hours with no end until they both laid exhaustively on the ground, accidentally rolled into one of the lakes or Shiejie came to call them for dinner.
Jiang Cheng watched as the delicate hands rested on the other’s sides and continued to softly scribble non stop on the lowest ribs over and over again, taking turns before quickening their pace and making We Wuxian trash from a side to another with a high pitched ‘eee’ sound until it slowed the rhythm to a light plucking of strings, lightly pressing each spot and barely vibrating there before jumping away.
“Not a tickle fight.” The Lan enlightened. “Punishment.”
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! No! Please, have mercy. Take pity on your poor husband!”
It was like Jiang Cheng couldn’t pry his eyes away, watching as Lan Wangji calmly run the tip of his fingers up and down the others’ ticklish sides, repeating the cycle for a couple more of times, like a boat letting itself being dragged by the slow pace of the river in a calm day, completely unfazed by his husband’s increasing maddened snickers, his tune starting to border on hysterical.
For a moment, the fingers curled into claws and Jiang Cheng thought that he would actually use an efficient, honest and true tickle attack, finally kneading on the skin and letting the crackles and squeals fill the air with their cacophony.
His hopes, however, seemed unfounded when the Lan just continued his soft touches, now using more of his nails to create an unbearable, ticklish feeling than only his fingertips and successfully pull more squeals and squeaks with such a move.
(And, if his own ticklish sides tingled in sympathy that was literally nobody's business and a secret that will die and be buried with him.)
Jiang Cheng finally snapped.
“That is not even the proper way you do it!” He did not get close and demonstrated his point, of course. Because he… (surely wouldn’t be welcomed to) he wasn’t a kid anymore and knew he was right.
Yet, his hands still gesticulated around, antsy.
(Wanting to grab, wanting to dig, wanting to squeeze, to attack and win and listen and never let go again. To feel the taste of the victory of a brawl that is meaningless and only in playful fun, again. To hear screams of laughter and not of fear, to perform with the crackles and shrieks and giggles as the only instrument he was ever actually skilled. An especial melody of affection that needed no words and even he could learn how to play.)
Jiang Cheng pushed those thoughts deep down and continued.
“You’re not even giving any attention to his hips! It’s his most ticklish, weak, defenseless and easy spot ever!” He ignored the protesting, giggly shout from Wei Wuxian and continued, forcing himself to focus on his words and not on the natural answering smirk trying to take over the corner of his lips. “You just need to knead there for a few minutes and then he will be gone. Besides, when you add raspberries to it he’ll laughs so much that you will actually be able to shut him up for once. That is a proper tickle attack. With this, you’re just being lazy!”
Purposely, he pointed to Lan Zhan’s administrations that now consisted in sweetly rubbing his thumbs on Wei Ying’s highest ribs, happily following his torso as it shook with the barely concealed chuckles and tried to wiggle away from the touch. A lazy job indeed. “You’re barely even touching him at all! That is not even tickling!”
“Oh, it tickles!” Wei Wuxian whined, words were almost completely lost with how much he was giggling. His arms trembled with the force to not slam down when Lan Zhan used a single finger to calmly poke and scratch his armpits, more than unfazed at both of the Yunmeng siblings' outburst.
Actually, if Jiang Cheng squinted his eyes, he could actually imagine a challenging glint when those golden eyes quickly stared at him for a second.
“It really tickles! It tickles so, so much!”
For a flash Jiang Cheng saw himself marching determinately at him, sitting on the ground and then diving to dig on Wei Wuxian’s hips non stop. Remind him what is actually a tickle attack so he would actually agree with his point and not poke fun at him just this once. Use the techniques that he took years to perfect and his muscles still remembered perfectly even when his mind refused to. Watch as that smug air in Lan Wangji changed to surprise when he got Wei Wuxian to really laugh and show all of them how right he was.
He crossed his arms even tighter around himself, growling harder and looking in another direction. His feet continued locked on the ground.
Unfortunately, Lan Zhang took the silence as an opportunity.
“Wei Ying is very cute and beautiful like this. Red and happy.”
“Lan Zhan! Warnings! You can’t say things like that without warning me first.”
Jiang Cheng stopped right in his tracks and slowly turned to look at Wei Wuxian, time slowing as he realized what Lan Wangji had just said, barely processing the rest of their conversation.
“Besides, I can think of something else that makes me very red and happy- Lan Zhan, no!”
“Shameless.”
“Husband, please, you’re killing meee!”
“Wei Ying.”
“Wait, wait, not there!”
It was true.
Jiang Cheng's eyes widened, but the image in front of him didn’t change. The other was right.
Wei Wuxian was blushing in embarrassment.
The color was not a fruit of his loud, unrestrained laughter, because for the last minutes all he did was giggle and snicker non stop, with plenty of oxygen and teases filling his lungs. It was not the result of any kind of flirt because Wei Wuxian took those as a challenge that he knew he would always win. It was not a make up he tried with Shijie. A natural consequence of spending an entire day under the sun training with his sword. It was nothing else. No other explanation besides the fact that, after thirty years, Jiang Cheng finally saw his brother get flustered.
Embarrassed.
Shy, even.
For the second time in his life, Jiang Cheng found Lan Wangji leaving him without words.
With a whoosh, he was out of the room.
[~*~]
“Good afternoon, Jiang Cheng.”
As it always did, a pleasant shiver ran on his body when Lan Xichen called him. All of his previous thoughts disappearing immediately from his head, his usual frown naturally losing the heat and annoyance as he looked at the other.
Lan Huan looked as ethereal and beautiful as ever, the white robes and blue hues pooling like waves at his feet and around his straight posture as he wrote on his desk, probably answering letters from other sects and solving administration matters. His hair was slightly messed and he was only in his inner robes, completely comfortable and domestic, not batting a single eye when Jiang Wanyin barged right in.
Even after being together so long, the scene still looked gorgeous as it always did. Like it came right out a scenery painted in a fan that you hid in your robes and carried close to your heart. A picture drawn straight from the purest jade. He had seen it plenty of times before and hoped to continue to do so for much more.
It left Jiang Cheng breathless.
“I see you’re back early.”
And just like that, his breath and frown were back again. The one in purple robes scoffed and closed the door. He headed to the bed, sitting there with a grunt.
“Not in the mood to watch Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji declare their undying love for each other for the hundredth time of the day.”
Lan Huan chuckled. It rang sweet like the bells the Yunmeng sect used to expurge curses and clean the mind. “I see. Perhaps it’s time to start closing your eyes, then?”
But the light tease didn’t actually register for him, because for a moment he looked at the other and another scene appeared in his mind as a flash.
Lan Xichen’s smile growing bigger, wobbling at the corners as his controlled chuckles were transformed into bubbly giggles and loud snickers, his entire face covered by a layer of red that spread in a beautiful hue from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, his eyes - teary and brilliant and so full of love and feelings - watching him in excitement, protests that held no true meaning falling freely from his lips and locking Jiang Cheng’s gaze forever on him with how melodious it was.
As it was usual, his body and mouth were already acting even before his own mind catched up with it.
“I want to try something new.” He listened his own voice saying. Steps steady and determined carried him to the sect leader Lan and pulled him to his feet, basically dragging him back to his bed.
Lan Xichen didn’t yelp, but let out a tiny surprised sound when Jiang Cheng shoved (much gentler than anyone could ever believe him of being) him on the mattress, quickly straddling him and sitting on his thighs, storming gray eyes looking at him intensely, watching his every twitch and expression in search for any kind of discomfort.
Of course, realizing that only made Lan Xichen melt, following the other’s lead easily.
(Not blindly, of course. )
(He sometimes wonders if he will ever be able to do so, ever again, but those are thoughts for other moments.)
So he tilted his head and questioned to those brilliant eyes. “What do you have in mind?”
“I want…” And his face morphed, never losing its lines of determination and decision, but now being tinted in red as Jiang Cheng looked away from him, a very lovely blush taking over his face. His jaw locked and words quieter, as if they were being pushed through his teeth. There was shyness in his tune. “To tickle you.”
“Oh.”
Lan Xichen tried to not sound too teasy, but he couldn’t really hide the playful amusement taking over his tune, his expression, his gaze, his everything after such an adorable admission.
He didn’t really know what sputtered his lover’s mood all of sudden, but interacting with Wei Wuxian and his own brother always left Jiang Wanyin’s emotions all over the place. If what his beloved needed after this afternoon was to have him laughing hysterically until he was a mess, completely putty and willing under his strong and trustworthy hands, Lan Xichen hardly had any opposition to this.
(Which wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t look into some sweet… justice, later. Revenge is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, afterall.)
Tickling was always a concept that interested him immensely. The laughter full of joy and the touches that were both incredibly warm and completely unbearable, together with the playfulness of the teases and the care intertwined in every note of those steps made his heart softer and his stomach flutter pleasantly everytime such bonding activity was involved. Especially when it came to Jiang Cheng.
“Alright.” He said. “I won’t hold back, then.”
“You better not.” The one in purple bit back, but his words held no heat and there was a grateful line softening all of the hard edges in his body. He positioned his hands on Lan Huan’s ribs - a good starting point, not too ticklish so he would lose all his energy right in the beginning and yet effective enough that just with a few moments of drilling his laughter would already be bubbling out of his lips.
Jiang Cheng felt how Lan Xichen tensed instinctively under him and he curled his fingers close, just enough for his nails would graze on his skin, actually giving him a reason to tense up this time and successfully pulling a squirm out of the Lan.
Perfect. He just needed to keep going like that. Soft and light. See for himself what is so special about this technique that it’s worth giving up the adrenaline of seeing someone become undone with only a few touches, to watch them get hysterical, loud, free with the more effective and energetic tickly ministrations. See how long would it take for his lover to become a total mess, to completely lose the battle against the sensations and just let himself be lost in a sea of giggles and blushes.
Exactly. Just like that.
Soft and light.
Simple and clear as water.
His fingers didn’t want to move.
That was the thing, wasn’t it?
Jiang Cheng wasn’t gentle. Nothing about him was soft, or light, or caring. His fingers were calloused and his skin thick after years of handling Zidian and its electricity, of carrying oars and rowing around the countless rivers in Lotus Pier and holding his weight in fights since he was a child, not at all skilled in the finest arts such as playing instruments skillfully like Lan Huan or painting beautiful landscapes as Nie Huaisang.
His hands were the reason of more pain and tears than laughter and happiness. He was Sandu Shengshou and he carried that mantle with pride. It's what made him survive after the Wen’s massacre of his clan. It's what brought his entire sect rising back again, strong and new from the ashes and fire as he maintained every building, every alliance, every battle to prove their worth with his own sweat and blood, clawing, tearing and snarling his way up, up, up. Until Yunmeng was back to be one of the four most powerful and influential sects again. Until him, A-Ling and the entire world of cultivation had more than smoke and destruction to remember his family by. Until the other’s pity became respect and fear. It was what had been necessary at the time. He did what he had to.
(It was what destroyed one of the last remnants of his family and pushed his brother far and away. What left him angry and frustrated behind, hitting back at anything that got too close, completely alone in the world except for a nephew that he had to raise, too young to even remember his parents. It was what consumed his every action and every thought and every lashing until there was nothing left except hope and resentment.
And yet… He was still here. Trying. His nephew was now the leader of his own sect. Yet, he was blessed with Lan Xichen. Yet, his sect respects and grows under his direction and the rivers continue to flow and the lotus to bloom totally uncaring for the tribulations of his mind. Yet, his brother is finally back and they are still trying to fix all of that.)
(Trying.)
A hand pulled him right out of his merciless thoughts, smothering the hard lines of his frown. Lan Xichen’s eyes immediately found his own, staring at his surprised face for some seconds before lifting his torso and placing gentle kisses on his front, following the path of warmth and electricity that his touch had already started.
The care and intimacy made Jiang Cheng scoff and frown again but now for an entirely different reason, momentarily rendered unable to move to hide his flaming face until the other decided that all the lines of his expression had been thoroughly kissed and smothered enough, no more darkness or doubt filling his gaze.
Clear enough from his previous thoughts, that only made him get even more determined about his decision, not shying away from the leader from Gusu Lan’s sect when those brown eyes focused on him, plenty comfortable to just lay there and exchange silences until Jiang Cheng could gather and organize his thoughts.
“I want to be gentle.” He finally spit, words tumbling out of his lips before he could take them back.
The eyes crinkled on the corners and seemed to shine brighter in understanding and then something else, so strong that made it impossible for him to keep holding his gaze, feeling strangely bashful under it. The feared Sandu Shengsou humphed and turned away his gaze, again.
…That wouldn’t work. He had to be able to watch and analyze his Lan Huan’s every tiny reaction, every quiet sound and every hint of movement to map all his best spots and what tickling worked best, with this new technique. He may not be totally sold to this entire idea of “soft touches” yet, but that was no excuse to not do a decent job.
Jiang Cheng had never half assed any of the things he set his mind to do and he isn’t about to start doing that now.
He wasn’t sure of how successful he would be in that, however, when Lan Huan’s gaze kept capturing and rendering him defenseless with those beautiful stares again and again.
“Close your eyes.”
Lan Xichen arched an eyebrow, more amused than questioning, but he hesitated for half of a second. It was enough to make Jiang Cheng’s brain disconnect from his lips and words fall, blunt and true, from his mouth before he could stop them.
“I can’t do it with you looking. It’s frustrating and distracting.” (Mesmerizing. Beautiful. The only thing I could look at for hours and hours at the time.)
Once more, the other’s brown eyes got filled with fun and something before he complied.
“Alright. I will be sure to give you my oral report in the most detailed and thorough manner as possible afterwards, of course.”
“Shut it.” Jiang Cheng digged on his ribs momentarily, a hot flush of pride spreading on his soul at how that made Lan Huan immediately jump, a surprised squeak filling the air and almost convincing the one in purple to throw away everything else and just dig more and more until those and other delightful sounds ran loud and free across the room.
But, no. Now, he had another objective.
He stopped pressing so firmly on the skin, leaving his fingers only resting on the spot before slowly running them up and down on his ribcage.
Holding his breath, Lan Xichen waited. When no other attack came besides the soothing rubbing, his body inevitably relaxed little by little, melting with the ministrations.
“That is very nice.” His words came out less jokingly than before, shining with genuinity. Of course, lying was forbidden in the Clouds Recesses, however, a direct honesty was a rare threat that Wanyin was more than happy to enjoy. “Mm.”
Jiang Cheng hummed in acknowledgement and continued with his touch.
With no hurry, he took his time to let his fingers wander, lower enough to caress the dip of the other’s hips and then back up, deviating from his torso to massage his arms and shoulders and slightly press his thumbs in circling motions on the base of his neck.
For a moment he mused letting his hands go even higher to cup his face so he could kiss it. That idea was fastly discarded, though, since Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he could quickly be dissuaded from his new experiment if they were to follow this path. Lan Xichen knew how to be very distracting when he wanted to.
His hands continued to wander on that very same path for a few more minutes and soon enough Lan Xichen felt himself even more relaxed, as if floating in clouds, not even bothered by the small sounds that kept being fished from his lips again and again as the soft touch kept slipping and brushing on every sensitive part of his body before continuing with its path.
It was like Jiang Wanji was mapping every single weak spot on his torso and purposely focusing on them with tiny scribbles and light scratches more and more.
With each new repetition, Lan Huan could only feel the tingles spreading further across his nerves, teasing and tickling them for seconds after the caring, a tad unbearable touch of the other went away, only barely starting to subside before those playful fingers were back to alight them once more, making the tickly sensations grow stronger and never really end.
Therefore, his relaxed sounds quickly began being interrupted by huffs of laughter and tiny notes on the back of his throat that were starting to sound too much like high pitched giggles to be ignored or pushed away.
Lan Xichen was so lost in those thoughts that he barely registered as the hands came to a stop on his ribcage, spreading across his ribs and on those awfully sensitive places in between them. Not until small, extremely controlled and tiny sparks of electricity made him jump, pulling a surprised, and uncharacteristically loud shriek from him, his mind and body falling too quickly from the clouds for him to try to stop its escape.
Jiang Cheng chuckled darkly.
“Oi, what was that?”
When he pressed his lips and didn’t answer, another spark of electricity teased the spot, and then another and another and another. Lan Huan felt himself grow giddier, not being able to help but squeak and yelp at each new attack on his poor ribs.
“To think that only Zidian could have so much effect on the very own Zewu Jun. Maybe I should have tried to use it earlier if I knew it could make you squeal like that.” The feeling of giggles in the back of his throat came back with full force. He bit them back. “Tell me, Xichen, how much longer do you think you could take it before descending into madness? You’re barely surviving those few sparks as it is. What if I decided to wrap the Zidian around you and unleash all this new power. How much time do you think you would be able to hold your laughter back, then?”
His eyes were closed but Lan Xichen could feel the other’s gaze on him, staring unblinking and attentively, drinking up his every reaction. He knew he could see how the light burn of blush started to take over his ears and spread lower in his neck, how his torso squirmed instinctively with each word. In a desperate attempt of defense, he scrambled for anything before his brain, who was trying really, really hard to not think about Jiang Wanyin’s words or otherwise he would die, caught up into a cute, very special detail about this new tactic of his.
“Have,” he gulped, taking a few tries before his words could come out with just a slight tremble on them, hiding the persistent joyful energy that kept trying to take over. By the way that Jiang Cheng’s fingers digged on his ribcage and began vibrating in a low, warning pace, he wasn’t very satisfied with this.
Still, no one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, even the most stubborn of their lovers. He continued.
“Have you been training harmless ways to use your Zidian lately, Sandu Shengshou?”
The fingers on his ribcage froze, and a very pointed silence followed his question. As a result, his smile got even bigger, making him want to open his eyes just to see the delightful effect of his words on his beloved.
Lan Huan decided to push his luck a tad further, putting all the fondness and warmth he was feeling in his words and tune until it spilled in every syllable and letter.
“To think my dear Jiang Wanyin could be so attentive and cute. Must have taken a lot of time and practice to achieve a fine skill like this one.” Then, with a more innocent tune. “I would love to hear all about how you accomplished such a dangerous feat to perfection all by yourself. How much restraint it must have taken.”
The implications were clear, even if he didn’t say anything else out loud, pulling his sleeved hand up to cover his playful grin.
Jiang Cheng felt his entire body, from his tip of his nose to the end of his fingers, burn, flustered, when he remembered all those times he had to test the technique on himself, learning how to control the power he could use in each attack. It took weeks until he had perfected the new tactics and made those tiny sparks spread a maddening, tickling feeling across every sense and a giggle sprouted in his mouth.
Only then he allowed himself to try it on others. Sneaking a few electric pokes and jabs to hit his disciples once or twice while correcting their forms during the training and watching them or jump away surprisingly or try to hide their initial squeaky reaction, especially under his usual frowning, serious gaze. It was the only way to be sure that it worked, of course.
So much work only so he could surprise his family in a future tickle fight, having now a new trick under his sleeve to put in good use.
Jiang Cheng growled in answer to the tease and his fingers crawled higher, filled with electricity while poking and prodding all their way up the other’s torso until it stopped just a few inches from his armpits. He watched with satisfaction the way that just the hint of his hands there made Lan Xichen wiggle like a worm from one side to another. Plenty of poorly concealed snickery titters filled the room the entire time, his hand shooting down again, showing his smile once more.
(Really, who did Lan Xichen think he could fool with this? Hadn’t he been the one to say he wouldn’t hold back? And yet he kept concealing smiles and holding up his laughter in every way. Hmph.)
(Nevertheless, Jiang Cheng couldn’t really say that the prospect of breaking his barriers bit by bit until he could no longer hold back his every giggle, chuckle, crackle and squeal didn’t fill him with new fierce, unwavering determination to keep going.)
“You want to talk about restraint, then?” Jiang Wanyin snarked, getting closer and feeling incredibly smug when that succeeded in turning Lan Xichen’s grin much wobblier and shakier.
His smirk shone, taking over his entire expression, sharp enough for the other to feel it without needing to see.
“I have a challenge. To see how much of your giant and stubborn self control will save you when you’re completely at my mercy.”
His words were taunting and, still, Lan Xichen couldn’t even pretend to feel truly threatened by them.
Somehow, his thoughts must have shown on his face because Jiang Wanyin let out those fond huffs he always did when he thought someone was being too cute for no reason and his tune got into a mix of soft and exasperated.
“But, if you’re already giddy and giggling like this-” to highlight his words he suddenly pressed on the pits, making a snort explode from him, his bubbly snickers that the other just described jumping on his throat and begging to be set free. The burn of his ears was back. “When I have barely even done anything? Maybe it won’t be a challenge at all. I didn’t even get to start with the real tickling and you already look so close to losing.”
Maybe it was the playfulness. Maybe it was how at ease and safe he felt around the other. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the new game. The joy of seeing how much fun Jiang Cheng was having, how vocal he was being about it. However, for once, Lan Huan didn’t even think twice about the words that were falling from his mouth.
“I am still not laughing right now, though. Am I, Jiang Cheng?”
There was a quick, sharp intake of breath and some seconds of dangerous silence. Lan Xichen felt the hair on the nape of his neck standing and a small hum of electricity charged the air.
A low, raspy chuckle that sounded so close to him made a kind of energy that had nothing to do with the Zidian run like crazy across his spine, sending all his nerves into a frenzy and his mind to tip the abyss of incoherency. Two hands laid on his wrists and started to pull them upwards until they rested nicely above his head, leaving his entire torso free from any form of defense.
His voice was really, really close.
“Don’t you dare to put them down or I won’t hold back.”
Having already played too much with fire, Lan Huan only nodded, letting the other concentrate once again in his attack. He took a deep breath and buried his reactions and snickers deep inside, relaxing his muscles and reining his expression and soul back into a calm and serene appearance, as if he was just getting ready for another afternoon of meditating.
Very well, if this was a challenge, he might as well give his best.
(No one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, afterall.)
Jiang Wanyin went back to a more upright position and stopped for a few seconds, eying the arms in front of him with a concentrated consideration.
Unexpectedly, he remembered a game that his Shiejie used to play with him when he was being too grumpy as a kid, which was, non-surprisingly, more often than not. The pang on his chest that always came when he thought about her didn’t feel as painful as it normally did, not when he was surrounded by Lan Xichen’s warmth and presence, when there was too much joy and happiness going around. It did, though, gave him an idea.
He laid one finger on the center of the other’s slender palm, and slowly started to swirl his digit over its lines and curves. The muscles under it trembled and his sharp attention was quick to capture how it made Lan Huan’s breath hitch for a moment before it went back to normal, face as calm as ever.
Jiang Cheng felt like a predator, slowly backing his prey into a corner.
Carefully, he continued drawing spirals on the skin, doing a couple of them before going up to lightly scribble at each finger, being careful to keep the touches light and soft as he went descending to the wrist. Every single inch of it got a good skittering and a few more swirls, dancing fingers continuing to follow their path.
Getting to the forearm, Jiang Wanyin changed the pace of his fingers and the pressure of his touch, now focusing and curling more his fingers and letting his nails drag themselves freely across his skin. Goosebumps follows his tickles, especially as he decided to take a break on the inner part of Lan Xichen’s elbow and dance, scratch and scribble on the most sensitive spots he found until now, quiet as ever as he used every ounce of his attention to catch and internally cherish every surprised, barely audible huff and puff of snickers from his lover with the breakeaned pattern.
The path across his biceps was even slower, with him doing everything to drag the moment for as long as he could before arriving at his primer destination: the armpit. His hand rested there, not even twitching as he saw Lan Huan hold his breath, waiting in expectation for his next move.
Because it would be foolish to think he wouldn’t have another one prepared. That he wasn’t as expectant as Lan Xichen himself for the moment that the dam would finally break and his usual merciless and energetic tickle attack would be unleashed upon every single tickle spot.
But Jiang Cheng was feeling mischievous. The game had barely begun, afterall.
So, with his other free hand, he started repeating the same tickly treatment on his other palm, and thinking that was it, Lan Xichen allowed himself to exhale, gathering his strength to keep up with the challenge, feeling a bit more confident for it, since now he already had an idea of what was going to happen.
That was until the leader of Yunmeng sect began pinching his armpit and a sharp gasp was suddenly ripped from him. His arms twitched downwards and his head turned just half of an inch to the side, cheeks puffing just the tiniest bit with barely concealed sounds before it all turned back to normal, his face going back to a serene, unbothered mask.
Still, no small details escaped Jiang Cheng’s attentive gaze: the way that his fingers curled every time he hit a sweet spot, how the skin around his eyes crinkled when a playful poke hit his pit, and, especially, how red his ears were getting, the color starting to spill to his neck with each passing second.
This was fine.
Jiang Wanyin could be patient. Precise. Unwavering.
There was one yet to be born who was able to win against him when it came to stubbornness.
Therefore, he continued his double attack, assaulting the defenseless armpit with gentle, quick pinches that felt like tiny kisses on his skin at the same time that his other hand concentrated all the skittering and dancing on the other ticklish arm.
The longer he went, the more his tranquil façade began to slip, each and every single occasion being followed by way too smug chuckles that made Lan Huan both want to kiss his lover, let everything go and let himself giggle non stop or even worse: whine in protest.
The thing that Lan Xichen failed to consider when accepting this challenge was a very simple one: he did not realize how absolutely maddening and unbearably quiet this all would be.
Silence had never bothered him, of course. Yet, right now it only left him with no other option but to concentrate on everything happening around him: on the way his lover kept scribbling, pinching and poking his tickle spots calmly without ever, ever moving away. On the soft tingling touches following his every twitch. In those attentive eyes that kept watching his every reaction, every move and smile. All of his sharky intakes of breath, gasps, yelps and quiet snickers seemed to resonate in his ears and across the room like they were being amplified. There was only one thing that interrupted them:
Jiang Wanyin’s teases.
“What?” Said one taunted as he finally, finally decided to move on from his poor armpits. His relief, though, was very short when he pressed on his higher ribs and vibrated. Lan Huan’s back arched and a snort almost broke his barriers. “You thought it was over? Not so soon, I still have much, much more places to explore. Is the challenge getting too hard for you already?”
He didn’t answer, too much concentrated in keeping his composure as those horrible, unfair and worming fingers quickly scrambled to wiggle on the base of his spine, their light scratches making him want to jump from his skin. His body tried to move both far away and much closer from the sensation.
“I can see your arms coming down, Lan Huan. Keep them up, I said. Have you forgotten about my promise that quickly or are you testing me? Do you really want me to destroy you with tickles that bad?”
Lan Xichen held his breath and squirmed lightly in the same place. Usually Jiang Wanyin’s merciless teasing was accompanied by an equally ruthless tickling that would leave him laughing hysterically, too occupied with his own inelegant and extremely loud crackling to even think too much about his words. As they were right now, however, he was just unable to tune every provocation and every tickle out.
Even if he stopped pressing his lips so tightly and let his control crumble, the leader of Lan Sect was pretty sure that his bubbly giggles and childish squeaks wouldn’t even come close to subdue his lover’s sentences. No one could ever dream of being able to outshout the very own Sandu Shengshou, afterall.
Those hands crept higher, jumping from his spine to press on each and every rib on its way for so quickly, so, so fast that the touch only lasted a few seconds before the fingers scrambled away as if his skin was made of fire. The pokes came one after the other in a rapid succession that teased and left more ticklish sparks across every nerve. At this point he couldn’t even distinguish if Jiang Cheng was using the Zidian or if all the anticipation and gentle scribbles made him infinitely more ticklish, muscles tensing and trembling with every touch.
Lan Xichen found himself on the brick of letting his control go and his snickers and chuckles free. His arms and armpits still tingled from the previous attack and every instinctive twitch of his torso made a new wave of phantom tickles tease them, his entire body feeling just like a giant, ticklish spot.
His lips were wobbly and a smile was finally able to blossom on them.
His arms went down.
“Lan Huan,” Jiang Wanyin warned once more.
A single finger began scribbling and prodding at his spine, way too close from his shoulderblades too be a coincidence and Lan Xichen wanted to kick out the pent up energy that didn’t stop flooding his veins. His back once more arched a piece of time longer than the previous time. Lan Huan caught himself and forced it to relax again into the laying position, bringing it right back to the assaulting finger. It was quite counterproductive, since it made him want to squirm away all over again. “Put your arms back up.”
Lan Xichen felt like he had all the reason for the pout he showed the other, still he hid it all the same behind one of his sleeves.
There was simply no warning before the hand on his spine pressed on and drummed in a full attack on the spot, making his entire body spasm with the force of the crackle he had to hold, torso squirming away but unable to truly escape from the tickles.
Jiang Cheng’s previous other free hand latched on his side and began squeezing. His entire body now bounced, cheeks puffed out with all the laughing being held inside. Still, no sound left him. Thoughts and feeling zig zagged in his mind in a totally undignified frenetic manner that would certainly make his uncle and the elders of the clan go into qi deviation if they knew.
“I told you, didn’t I? Arms up, Lan Huan.”
Lan Xichen kicked, pressed his hand firmly on his mouth and squirmed on the same place, feeling like laughter was about to break and fill the entire room in any second now. He managed to endure a total of half of a minute before his arms were shooting upwards again and, just as fast, the hands there were just now mercilessly assaulting his ticklish with all the kneading and drilling of an energetic tickle attack, went back to caressing softly at his skin.
He quietly muffled a tiny, surprised squeak. Somehow the light, sweet scratches felt even more awfully tickly now than before and Lan Huan barely had any willpower left to keep his bubbly, high pitched reactions inside as he tried to take his breath back.
“I can see your barrier cracking.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was suddenly horribly close and he hummed in response to the teasy words. No matter how giggly and silly he sounded now or how fireflies batted their wings like crazy in his belly or how his lips couldn’t stop curling upwards and his face started getting redder than ever. It was only a hum. “I can see how your eyes crinkle and how your smile grows bigger and bigger with every tiny, smallest move of my fingers. I can feel how your muscles tremble under them, before you regain your control and force them to relax. I can hear your giddiness and how you hold your breath every time I find a new defenseless, sensitive spot. I know how it’s taking longer and longer for you to gather your restrain and hide all of these little details.”
At that, he purposely focuses his attention in prodding and wiggling his fingers in the place where Lan Huan’s stomach and side meet, pulling another loud snort from him.
“And,” Jiang Cheng continues, his usual rough tune coming out like a pleased purring of a predator that circles his prey. “Above it all, I can see how you try to move your face away from me, Lan Huan. But you’re not getting away. No. Not after all the effort I used here and not until I get to see how much of a laughing, blushing mess I can make our elegant Zewu Jun to be. Until you won’t be able to look at me without feeling giggles filling your throat and a smile taking over your face. Until I get to hear every squeal, every snicker, every delightful, uncontrollable reaction you have to offer.”
Lan Xichen felt like he was going to explode. The gentle tickling continued as slow and as light as always, sweet and lovely as if nothing had happened at all, in a total contrast from the absolutely unmerciful and on point that it was every tease. Each word seemed to hit his sensitive ears and coax him closer to giving up from a challenge that he never really cared about in the first place.
Jiang Wanyin seemed very aware of all of this. The leader of the Lan Sect wondered when did they become so crystal clear to each other.
“And then, when all of your barriers break, when your self control and restraint can no longer save you from me, I will keep on tickling, keep on teasing and keep on getting all of your smiles, squirms and giggles, over and over and over again.”
A quick pinch kissed his hips and Lan Huan let a giggle escape from his lips.
And then another and another and another. Suddenly, the room was filled by a high pitched, quick and loud giggling fit that he hardly indulged in his daily life, making his ears feel like they were on fire when, with each passing second, they only continued to grow more uncontrollable and ring louder, being interrupted only by a couple of snorts before continuing their song and dance.
A white flash suddenly appeared in Jiang Wanyin’s field of vision and in a blink those long sleeves were concealing his lover’s smile again.
Jiang Cheng huffed, rolling his eyes at the sudden bashfulness of the other and Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his to see the fondly exasperated grin that always accompanied those moments.
After a few pieces of second when he saw that the other wouldn’t really move, the one in purple robes tried to take his arms away from his face. However, the Lan simply dodged from his grip, giving Jiang Cheng only a glimpse of that full dazzling smile before it was gone again, sleeves fluttering skillfully in and out of his hold when he kept trying to push them out of the way.
"Stop hiding your face!" For once his exclamation didn’t even pretend to sound annoyed, the threat hidden in his words losing any and every heat as it got mixed with a bark of laughter. “Wasn’t you the one who was all about not holding back just minutes ago?”
Lan Xichen merely chuckled. Jiang Cheng kept fighting to pin, once more, his energetic arms.
In the end, he was successful, of course.
His lover had been barely trying, afterall.
Still, he felt a tad breathless, little from the quick roughhousing and much more because he was suddenly hit by the full image of Lan Huan’s handsome, gorgeous face. He could feel his own skin heat up as he momentarily froze in the same place.
Lan Xichen lightly pulled his arms in protest, unaware of the other’s struggles. "It's stronger than me!" He giggled a defense and the way that it sounded like it was only two seconds from becoming a screech broke Jiang Wanyin out of it.
Once again, a huff left his mouth.
The hands stopped their dance on his hips. It took three heartbeats, but Lan Xichen felt his pinned wrists being pressed a bit stronger on the mattress and the weight on his thighs shifted forward. If that hadn’t indicated that the Yumeng sect leader moved closer, the voice hitting his absurdly red ear certainly would.
“You know who else is stronger than you?”
There was a hint of a growling in his tune that made bells ring in alarm in his mind, nerves getting alight with electricity.
For a moment he almost gave up and opened his eyes, wanting to see what was happening, but the anticipation on the air was already stronger and Xichen wanted to hear where it would go if he didn’t tip it any further. The hands on his wrists gave them a squeeze that was both too much of a warning to be a purely comforting touch and way too soft to match the threatening tune that fell from Jiang Wanyin's lips.
“Me.”
His breath now teased the skin of his neck, making electricity to fly across the tickle spots to his mouth, expanding his smile. "So I will repeat myself just this last time: keep your arms here, nice and far away from that pretty face, or I will do it for you. Deal?"
Lan Xichen’s snickering now had less to do with the tickles and, just for the fun of it, he tipped his head to the side, as if thinking about his answer.
(If that opened the path of his neck for more attacks, it was simply a coincidence. He hummed a not-so-controlled giggle when his lover caved to the cute sign and laid a quick kiss on the base of his jaw. Good, he was starting to think he would have to pout for it.)
He could feel those gray eyes glued on him as the silence stretched and the squeezing of his hands quickly changed to a firmer hold of his wrists in an answer of a question that hadn’t even been voiced in the first place.
"Oi, I am going to break your legs!” This time, Lan Huan really couldn’t help the playful tilt of his tune as the snickers grew to full chuckling, his reactions being totally unleashed and all over the place. They sounded just the tiniest bit hysterical, but the teasingness of it couldn’t really be ignored. Jiang Wanyin made it too easy. “Tsk. I thought it was against the great Gusu Lan's rules to be impolite. Disrespecting and leaving another Sect Leader without an answer is an offense that is not taken lightly."
Truly, the words had slipped from Lan Xichen’s lips even before he could truly ponder about them.
"Maybe some people just like to think before answering, Jiang Cheng."
(Lan Xichen ignored the irony.)
Before the other's growl could become stronger and his hands got free for the only purpose of absolutely destroying him with tickles until he took every single syllable back, Lan Xichen quickly lifted his torso and planted a giggly, placating kiss on his cheek, opening his eyes just about time to see that lovely red blossoming across Jiang Wanyin’s entire face.
With his expression completely relaxed, the surprise and fluster successfully whipped away the frown that naturally appeared anytime he was provoked.
With this, truly, Lan Huan couldn't really be blamed for the other couple of pecks he stole before the feared Sandu Shengsou came back from the surprise and turned away, hair falling in front of his face in a poor attempt to hide it while his hands continued to rend him immobile.
"I will keep my arms up." He chipped, because even with his pokes of fun, the feeling that he would never be able to see Jiang Cheng’s hands getting close again without breaking into a sea of crackling snickers and the phantom tingling that kept playing with his nerves like a guqin, he was still having too much fun playing with this new side of his lover and he would actually hate to take the teases too far.
"Feeling very confident today, aren’t you?" Lan Xichen felt his eyes widen. There was simply no other way to describe it, but when the other’s gaze fell on him, it could only describe them as hungry.
"Let's see how much breath you'll have to tease me when we're done."
Just like that, those hands were back, making him want to curl into a ball when, even after everything, no energetic, quick and destroying tickle attack assaulted his hips in a kneading, clawing and drilling dance that he knew so well and prepared for. A kind of attack that would have him lose control and laugh immediately, not caring at all about rules or pretenses for minutes at time.
Instead, this touch was light, traveling across his sides. It wiggled and scratched at any and every inch of skin, careful to not forget a single spot.
Remembering Jiang Wanyin's first request, he closed his eyes, trying his best to not take the other's example and try to hide his own blushing face behind the curtains of his own hair. The tiny, unusual giggles flooding and spilling from his lips hysterically were back.
They continued like that for a couple of minutes, Jiang Cheng actually feeling impressed with how Lan Xichen kept his arms - shaking in a far image from the how composed they were in the beginning of the game - up the entire time, especially as his pokes and pinches now deliberately focused on the most ticklish spots, wiggling and skittering more and more frequently as the seconds ticked by.
It didn’t take too long before he started feeling antsy. With all his lover’s most sensitive and weak spots being successfully mapped out so he could focus entirely on them and with the challenge no longer running there wasn’t a lot to focus besides the extremely cute reactions of his beloved, which was something he could indeed watch forever, but also something that he knew he could make it become even more adorable. That nagging feeling that he just needed to do something kept him agitated.
Usually, with his usual ruthless attacks, that would be the moment he would find himself spilling how precious and important Lan Huan was to him. How his presence warmed the coldest of the nights and his smiles brightened the greyest of his days. In those moments, though, his words were accompanied by a loud crackling or hysterical laughter, making it impossible for the other to even see how much vulnerable he decided to be.
It was easier this way, when he was sure that his beloved wouldn’t take the chance to start praising him and make him freeze, or even worse, sutter over his words, quickly turning the tables about who the blushing mess was.
(Gods, Huan was simply merciless when he suttered, throwing one praise after another in a quick succession before he could even think of getting his footing again, refusing to not let the full extension of his own affection to show with his, as well.)
Jiang Cheng was definitely not a fool to even think to start, in that sweet, calm pace of the melodious giggling fit, a battle he knew he would not win.
Technically, he knew that Lan Xichen in no way minded the silence, he was the brother of Lan Wangji, after all. Yet, he found himself thinking about some other tease, a game or anything he could say or do to see which more reactions he could get.
At the sudden thought of his brother in law, an idea appeared in his mind. A kind of… provocation he saw him using earlier, if he could even call it that.
It was silly, but it was worth a try.
He lowered his voice in a tune he knew that it affected the other immensely, raspy and paused.
“Lan Huan.”
“Yes?”
The answer was as quick and eager as ever, no tilt of playfulness of flustering falling from it. Embarrassedly, Jiang Cheng felt his face get on fire.
(How would he know that this wouldn’t work! When he himself felt as defenseless and soft as the first time Sect Leader Lan used his given name?)
“Wanyin?” Lan Xichen tried again when no answer came, opening his eyes only to see the other quickly deviate his gaze, blush deep in his face, a giant pout resting on his lips. It only made him laugh harder, albeit confusedly.
“Nothing.” He grumbled. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not important.”
Lan Huan opened his mouth to disagree that there wasn’t anything unimportant when it came to Jiang Cheng when the assaulting hand decided that this was the perfect moment to claw on his belly, drumming and scratching fingers way too close to his bellybutton to be a coincidence. A shriek cut his thought process and opened the gates for all the high pitched series of squeaks that left his lips, snickery fit growing up a notch.
“Jiang Wanyin!” He protested at the clear attempt of distraction, refusing to break contact and close his eyes again.
That is how he managed to see the exact moment Jiang Cheng faltered for a second with his words. Suddenly the redness of his face was painting from the tip of his ears to the tip of his nose and a shudder clearly went through him. Tiny pinches, much quicker and persistent than before, as if demanding his attention, began traveling all across his stomach.
He giggled hysterically. Yet refusing to stop until he discovered what was that about.
“Jiang Cheng!”
His eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration, which gave the Lan a fun contrast with the giant smile plastered in his expression.
“Sush. It was nothing.”
Why was he reacting like this? Nothing had happened in those last moments and all Lan Xichen did was…
Wait. Could it be…
“Jiang Cheng?” He pushed the words through his high pitched giggles again, not caring how each syllable was completely consumed by his giddy, bubbly and quite silly reactions.
Jiang Wanyin couldn’t stop the way that his blush worsened at this crawling to his neck. His lover’s entire face brightened in understanding.
“Jiang Cheng!” Lan Huan looked like a kid being presented with his favorite toy as a gift. His voice was absolutely delighted, joyful and completely unbothered about how adorable and sweet he made Jiang Cheng’s name sound like this. His tittering and chuckling painted every syllable and sound in a maddening manner that made Jiang Cheng feel like he could keep tickling and listening to it forever.
It was a dangerous weapon.
He sticked his finger on his bellybutton in retaliation, scratching the walls and prodding the spot in a way that he knew would make the other go insane with ticklish sensations.
Those chuckles quickly evolved to a loud, belly laughter.
Lan Huan’s back arched with the new attack and slammed back on the mattress, legs kicking uncontrollably at the sensations. In an alarming sign, Jiang Cheng saw him opening his mouth and quickly sent his other free hand to dig and drum on the rest of his stomach, spidering, squeezing and kneading everywhere he could touch.
And still…
“Jiang Wanyin! Jiang Cheng! Cute Cheng!”
Each word was shouted in joy, nothing like the usual calm and proper way Lan Xichen usually held himself. With his heart melting and his chest feeling just like it would explode, Jiang Cheng decided, he has no other option, truly.
In a swift and quick movement, he freed his hands and turned around, latching on his knees and squeezing.
The sound that came out of the other’s mouth cut across the entire mountain chain, a mix of a shriek and loud crackling filling the air immediately. Jiang Cheng almost stopped right on his tracks with the sheer volume and force of it, quickly turning back to see Lan Xichen completely boneless on the mattress, head thrown back, mouth open wide and eyes crinkling in the corners as squeals and chortles mingled with his unstoppable laughing fit.
It did nothing to stop the warmth filling his soul.
Lan Huan could barely think about anything else but the tickles, how they demanded every ounce of his attention, took over his every thought and danced in every nerve, especially when those playful hands decided to wiggle their way to under his knees and scribble on the horrible, awfully sensitive soft skin there as if their lives depended on it, drumming and scratching non stop.
Well, he had quite asked for this.
Still, when a couple of curious tickly sparkles touched his knees and made all of his senses explode in tingles and laughter and tickles and snorts and tickles, his body automatically jumped to a sitting position and his arms engulfed the other, face immediately hiding on his back in a poor attempt to muffle a loud screech.
The sparkles, squeezing and drumming continued for gods know how long. Lan Xichen could feel his entire body bounce with the force of each one of his crackles, giggling and squeaks. Jiang Cheng’s own amused chuckles accompanied his, even if the Lan wasn’t really able to make out the teasing words he uttered from time to time and made his back rumble, too occupied in feeling like he was going mad with tickling.
His body moved before his mind, once more. In a blink he was crackling too much to keep himself upwards and in the other he was smashing his lips against Jiang Cheng’s and muffling his laughter until the assault of his worst spot stopped and his reactions lowered to a string of non-stop snickers.
Jiang Cheng huffed exasperatedly, but turned himself around and adjusted his pose so they could continue the new activity more comfortably.
Lan Xichen jolted and grinned in a truly ungraceful manner when those two hands came to rest on his sides, but they only rubbed firmly on the skin, the new giggles created by the scare being quickly kissed away as the other refused to let Lan Xichen be distracted by anything else that wasn’t him.
It didn’t take long before he melted completely again, his arms coming to rest on Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders and the blush painting his ears now for a completely different reason.
They separated to take a few gulps of air, lingering smiles and shining gazes focused on each other for a few moments. Already recovered, Lan Xichen found himself diving right back in, locking their lips together and pressing closer and closer.
That is, until the traitors, lying hands on his sides, digged on the sensitive spot with all their might. His arms came crashing down and his body tried to curl in a defensive ball, but it was already too late. A new round of loud laughter spilled from his lungs and jumped excitedly from his tongue, filling the room once more in a high pitched tune.
He couldn’t really help the squeal and trashing when Wanyin made sure to whisper the teasing growl next to his ear, again, voice still breathless from all their kissing. “You really thought that that would work, huh? That it would be so easy to distract me? Just a few pecks, then I would forget everything and you would be free to go and be a teasing bastard all over again.” He chuckled and rested his mouth on the base of his neck, every word rumbling and tickling. “I told you before, didn’t I? You will be at my mercy until you have no more breath left to provoke me ever again. I never go back on my word.”
And then he promptly began delivering a giant, unending raspberry on his neck.
Lan Xichen laughed and laughed and laughed for some more minutes until there were tears prickling the corner of his eyes and hiccups began ringing together with his giggles.
The very moment those appeared, though, the playful hands immediately stopped their playful assault to massage and rub softly until the leftover tingles disappeared. The raspberries metamorphosed to pecks and kisses all over his face that got him melting on the spot in no more than a couple of seconds, shoulders still lightly bouncing with the ligering tittering that followed them.
Silence stretched across them like dogs and bunnies usually do, on their lazy days.
“Jiang Cheng.”
“Hm?”
Lan Xichen waited until those gray eyes were on him and let his smile shine unashamedly. His lover huffed, fond.
“Should this one give you the report now, Sandu Shengshou?”
“Oh, shut up.”
The sect leader Lan chuckled.
That was the only warning Jiang Cheng had before, in an elegant flash of white, he found his entire word spinning until his back hit the mattress and his hands were firmly held above his. A weight settled on his thighs, pinning him on the spot. Those brown, crinkling eyes were now just inches from his face.
He tried to squirm and pull his arms down, but the grip was as moving as the mountains that surrounded the Cloud Recesses.
“Since my report won’t be necessary, maybe I can explore other… techniques to show you my observations and feelings?”
Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened with understanding. He tried harder to free his arms to at least have a lieu of a shield to protect his currently defenseless tickle spots. His mouth was already betraying him, his lips wobbly turning upwards.
Lan Xichen kept watching him, serene, no hurry at all.
“They do say that there is no stronger way to bond than to share similar experiences and I would be happy to assist in yours .”
“Lan Huan! Don’t! Do not dare!”
He trashed and buckled, squashing as much as he could the already bubbling titters filling his chest, the kind face above him seeing right through his frown - in the way that he called Lan Xichen by his birth name, how the Zidian didn’t crackle or activate like it did when his master was in danger, in the softness still lingering on his face, the excited glint in his gaze, in the very same way that they already had this song and dance plenty of times before - and so effortlessly continued to pin him on the mattress, winking before starting to lower his face, bit by bit.
“Lan Huan, I’m warning you! I will-”
“I love your smile.” The sentence was calm and playful, but Jiang Cheng’s voice still got caught in his throat, frozen. Both because of his words and the tiny, careful and light nibble that hit the ticklish back of his ear, barely pecking the skin over and over again. “I love how beautiful and cute it is, when it’s tiny or big,” Another nibble. “When it’s soft or determined.” Another one. “When you’re aware of it or not.” Another. Another. Another.
“Shuhuhut up!”
Amidst his demand Jiang Cheng let out an uncharacteristic snort.
An answering chuckle rang like a bell and set his cheeks ablaze, stretching his grin wider as he turned his face to press it firmly on his shoulder. The other’s breath made him lift his shoulder in an attempt of defense, only for the ministrations to change to his other ear, more praises and loving teases pouring like rain and making him feel more and more silly, tickly, shy (loved).
He endured exactly three more compliments (he had to put a stop when Lan Xichen started to point out how he went out of the way to take care and make little nice gestures that should go unnoticed because they’re not a big deal at all!) before snapping, again, with no heat at all.
“Why don’t you stop saying nonsense,” he tried squirming and scrunching his neck, but the other only hummed dangerously in warning, making tingles and tickly shocks spread like flames on his nerves. He tried to control the snicker painting his words, unsuccessfully. “And put your mouth to good use?”
“So demanding…”
Still, Lan Xichen acquiesced and took a deep breath. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, preparing for the killer raspberry that would come and finally put him out of his suffering.
Only for a continued, light gush of air hit his skin, pulling those low, anticipatory giggles from him.
“Soon, Wanyin. First, I must tell you all the endearing, lovely things about you that keep making me swoon and fall in love all over again while I watch this blush take over your beautiful, adorable face. Then, after I’m done, you're going to tell me all of your favorite spots for the day and I will tickle every single one of them, maybe using that delightful technique you just spent so long teaching me all about today, maybe testing how loud and carefree I can make you sound. What do you think?"
Lan Xichen yelped and jolted away when harmless sparks hit both of his hands, making them tingle and automatically let go of the other, which was enough for him to dislodge the Lan from his spot with a hard buckle, throwing him back on the mattress and quickly turning around to run away from the bed.
Before he succeeded, however, Lan Huan jumped and locked his hand on his wrist, maintaining his grip even when Jiang Cheng twisted it left and right and pulling him closer and making the one in purple robes lose his footing.
He then quickly adjusted himself on the bed so the other would fall right on his side and Lan Xichen could quickly finish this game of cat and mouse.
However, Jiang Cheng used the impulse to turn around and barrel him on the mattress, limbs getting entangled as both of them get lost in giggles, playful growls and some non heated pushing and pulling each other around.
It took a few minutes until he finally had the opening he was waiting for. Brown eyes shone when Jiang Cheng got distracted, too proud of managing to get on top of him during the brawl. With a fast swipe, one of his hands captured the other’s wrist and pulled upwards. His legs did a quick word in locking themselves around the other’s one pair. Unbalanced, Jiang Cheng fell on his chest with a shout and his free hand held his waist close, body rolling and putting Lan Xichen right on top, again.
Hair fell on his face in a mess of untamed strands as his erratic breath matched Wanyin’s, smiles shining bright. He could feel the way that his headband was crooked on his forehead and his usual pristine robes got wrinkles. None of those details went unnoticed by Jiang Cheng, who smirked at him with a sharp smugness, even if his general state was just as bad.
Lan Xichen almost kissed him again.
Instead, though, he took a deep breath, reigning the joyful smile in his face and the childish snickers playing in his throat.
When he opened his eyes, there was now a honed resolutioness on them, his smile became a smirk and his face got closer to the other.
"Do that again and I will have to put my sect’s headband and spells to a good use.” As always, his voice rang light and sweet, but with an undertone of something low and dangerous that made the very own Sandu Shengshou shiver. “Ok?”
It was not a question.
Lan Xichen nuzzled his neck sweetly. “Thank you for expanding my collection even more with all your wonderful reactions.”
Oh, gods, Jiang Cheng realized with wide, excited eyes. He was going to die, wasn’t he?
“Shall we begin?”
[~*~]
Random Thoughts:
Jiang Cheng, watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan: urg, look at them, so head over the heels for each other, absolutely shameless, no respect at all for anyone who is near. It’s like they have no sense of self preservation at all
Lan Xichen: a
Jiang Cheng: Oh my goddd it’s Lan Xichen hi hi hiiiii <3 <3 :3 <3
~~
Jiang Cheng to me is just aaaaa! The fact that he hates Wei Wuxian and keeps guarding his flute even after 13 years. The way that he follows Jin Ling in his every night hunt. How he was the only one to not chase Wei Wuxian when his identy was revealed. He handing Jin Ling the Zidian just like his mother did to him
I keep thinking about a continuation where, while they're still starting to get closer, Wei Wuxian start having more tickle fights in front of Jiang Cheng - both attacking Lan Yuan, Lan Jingyi or his own husband - until he finally has enough of him looking so gloom and doom everytime he does so and decides to take the matter into his own hands <3
Look, I'm going to be honest, I just need more of everyone in mdzs laughing, playing and being silly, okay? I need more of that happiness and if for that I need to write my own content and spend hours daydreaming about them in cute tickle scenarios so be it <3 <3 peace and love on planet earth
Maybe I will write something with the juniors in the future? Add some pure, playful and joyful fluff in the story. They are just way too precious and def deserve some more laughing in their lives. And Wei Wuxian just have such perfect, amazing tickle monster vibes iugtfrdefrgyu
Also, enjoy this amazing video of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen that I can't stop thinking about.
#Maybe I got some names wrong jugfdedfgh I am still getting used to the cultural differences and it's been very interesting so far!#Ticklish!Lan Xichen#Lee!Lan Huan#Lee!Lan Xichen#Ler!Jiang Cheng#Brief Lee!Wei Wuxian and Ler!Lan Zhan#Brief Ler!Lan Xichen and Lee!Jiang Cheng#Kanene's fic#Kanene's fanfic#THAT ALMOST COSTED MY SOUL BUT IT'S FINALLY DONE LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO#Gosh. Everytime I think about Jiang Cheng I just remember that quote that is like 'there ws love. it didn't change anything. it didn't save#-anyone. but there was love and that is important.'#dead on the floor sobbing#ANYWAY DID YOU REALIZE HOW AFTER JIANG CHENG JUDGED WEI HE ALMOST ENDED UP RESTRAINED LIKE HIM??? TEHEE THE HYPOCRESY TEHEE#The Lans are simply something else indeed#Wei and Lan wasn't even supposed to appear for so much but I started thinking about Wei giggling while Zhan looks at him in complete awe#and then when I woke up there was like 3000 words on the doc. crazy how life happens fr fr#mdzs tickles#mdzs tickling#The way that I had to hold myself from writing Lan Xichen getting his revenge you have no idea-#Xichen and Cheng show each other ur smiles without covering your faces new year challenge
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꧁ＤＲＵＧＳ ＆ ＭＯＮＥＹ꧂
✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, drugs, drug addict reader, abuse
♤synopsis: Nishimura Riki. One of the most well feared mafia sons, is filthy rich, He was never really interested in dating, hating the idea of putting all his trust, love, blood sweat and tears into one person. Then he laid his eyes on you, a broken, barely appreciated, drug addict. (Riki's "I love you 3000" cover was playing in my head non stop while writing this- I need him in my life frfr)
✧♤✧♤✧♤𝕯𝕽𝖀𝕲𝕾 & 𝕸𝕺𝕹𝕰𝖄♤✧♤✧♤✧
Get up, get ready, clean up, go to school, get high and arrive at her apartment late as fuck. That was Y/ns daily routine. She's high 90% of the time, filling the massive hole her parents stabbed in her heart, with weed, Whiskey and pills. She had nothing to lose. Her parents always hated her, the reason never clear. So she moved out at 16, and got her own small apartment, a very decent one. Now she's yet to turn 18 in a few weeks, yet she's making bad decisions back and forth
She had fallen in love many times, but she always ended up getting hurt, or being a burden. So she'd turn to her fellow, Jack Daniels and Marijuana for some company. No one ever visited her... so she was beyond surprised when she heard her doorbell ring. High out of her mind, she answered it, not thinking of the potential dangers that may be lurking behind the door.
"Fuck- you got a first aid kit?" He asked, shutting the door and barricading it. Y/n pouted as she started to think "Clearly you're high. I'll go find it myself." He said, as he walked through the clean, plain hallways. Of course he found a brand new, unused first aid kit, however, what he didn't find was any photos of your family or at least parents. No sign of a boyfriend, or anyone else who might live there.
The strong stench of Cannabis filling his nostrils as he groaned. The male treated his own wounds that were barely painful to him. He walked into the living room only to find the girl lying on the ground, high out of her mind. Y/n had fallen asleep on the cold, marble floor despite being so high and having a fever, but she was used to it and she was too lazy to move.
Riki however, found it cute. He found her cute. God she's too cute, so short, so clueless, and so stupid. He really wanted to know what you were like when you were sober, but when examining all the munchies you had randomly scattered in the kitchen, he realized that may be a challenge. So he decided to stay until you wake up.
Never would he have ever found himself cleaning up a girl's home, picking up a girl's underwear and putting it in the laundry basket, carrying a girl to her bed and tucking her in. But I'll tell you one thing. He fucking loved it. He loves taking care of this girl, he only just practically met her but... he really wants her. He's a mafia he can have whatever the fuck he wants.
That's how Y/n found herself in a massive, luxurious mansion. Guards here and there, all her artwork in a big room with all the art supplies an artist could dream for. A perfect yet psychotic man who seems to be on a murder rampage on the daily. It has been 1 month since the male kidnapped her saying that he's in love with her and will even marry her. However the place was missing something she lived her whole life on...
"I CAN'T FUCKING DO IT FUCK SAKE RIKI! GIVE ME MY WEED FOR FUCKSAKE!" She screamed, crying and kicking her bedsheets, yanking at her hair as she screamed. The male slapped her painfully hard, pulling her to himself "FUCKING PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER Y/N!" he yelled as the girl just cried in his embrace "Y-you don't understand ki... it's hard! it hurts, I need them I really do- I'm fucking weak I can't- sobriety is so fucking overrated! please- im begging you please!" She cried as the male just hugged her closely.
With drawl is extremely hard, and for a teenager to have to go through something like that, without her parents to support her is extremely hard. But someone really loves her, a man who'd kill for her and is even willing to die for her. So she will put through it. Fighting with every last bit of energy she has. Riki would keep an eye on her when she does have alcohol, making sure she stays within a limit. He let her buy a vape, just to help her lay off of the drugs.
He knew that all this was all worth it. because when the struggle is over, Y/n will realize that he truly loves her, and no matter what crazy shit he does, she will always run into his arms, and yearn for his touch. "I love you Ki... I'm glad you kidnapped me you know?... I've never been love like this before..." She admitted, her head pressed against his chest, as her body was shielded by his loving arms.
Y/n melted in his embrace, closing her eyes with a smile when she felt his perfect, plush lips on her forehead. Those lips, the only drug she's addicted to and will never let herself get over. "I love you too my darling..." he said with a smile, cradling her in his arms, his head rested against hers, theirs eyes closed as they sat before the fireplace, comforted by the relaxing sounds of their heartbeats.
✧♤✧♤✧♤𝕯𝕽𝖀𝕲𝕾 & 𝕸𝕺𝕹𝕰𝖄♤✧♤✧♤✧
#yandere#enhypen#enha#yandere enha#yandere enhypen#enhypen yandere#enha yandere#kpop#kpop enha#nishimura riki#niki nishimura#enhypen niki#enhypen nishimura riki#riki enhypen#niki enhypen#niki enha#kpop yandere#enhypen scenarios#enha imagines#enhypen imagines#enha x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfic#ni ki#enhypen ff#engene#enhypen fluff#niki reaction#ni ki enhypen#enhypen niki ff
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Kiwiana's Subscriber Shindig
I hit an absolutely wild (to me, anyway) AO3 subscriber milestone overnight, and after lying on the floor for a while about it, I want to CELEBRATE with a ficlet fest for all y'all who are so kind and supportive and just fucking awesome.
So! Feel free to send me:
A location: I absolutely encourage you to go buckwild here, because y'all know I love a challenge. You can also include a (vague) time period as well as a location if you want to, but you absolutely do not have to. (And there's no guarantee that if you don't send a time period it will be modern-day!)
A ship or focus character of your choice
Your username on AO3, if it differs from your tumblr username, so I can gift it to you there once it's written!
A maximum rating if you're not happy for it to go to E. I'm not saying all of them will, but... well, y'all know me, it's always a risk. So if you wouldn't want to read something E-rated, let me know what the highest rating you'd be happy with is.
And in return you get... a ficlet. Honestly, could be anywhere from 300 to 3000 words, depending on where the mood so takes me. 1-3 are required, though; I need something more than "IDK whatever you feel like" (that's what my normal WIP list is for 😅)
Important note the first: the idea here is a jumping-off point rather than a detailed prompt. So something like "FirstPrince at the barbershop" is awesome! "FirstPrince meet-cute at the barbershop where Alex accidentally comes onto Henry and then they hook up" is more detailed than I'm looking for for these (also I already wrote that one, so it'd be a waste of your time.)
Important note the second: if you're submitting your request on anon, you will still need to give me an AO3 username, please—I can only accept one submission per person, to keep it fair and ensure that I can in fact still write other stuff as well. If you don't have an AO3 account, I still have a few kicking around which will get you signed up faster than the current waitlist: you'll just need to DM me your email address :)
Slide on into my ask box with your request! Requests will be open until April 30th 11:59pm UTC and I'll start filling once requests are closed. REQUESTS ARE NOW CLOSED! Thanks, y'all; I can't wait to start writing these.
Love y'all, thanks for being awesome and really forcing me to confront my imposter syndrome lmao ❤️
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‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.Good Morning Princess ₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
~Part 2~
(Dom!Mike Schmidt x Sub!Reader)
~Summary: Mike comes home after a long day and needs to blow off some steam. Continuation of part one!!!
~Tags: Pet names, degradation, praise, breeding kink, daddy kink, brat taming, gawk gawk 3000, penetrative sex, afab!reader
Note: This is pretty much porn LMFAO!! Read part one for the full story.... or not if you're horny no judgement ;) Just a reminded that I am brand spankin new to writing fanfic so apologies if it's mid. Pls lemme know if you're interested in more, my amas are always open to ideas <333
⊱✿⊰
Mike grabs your face with one hand. This causes you to pout at him and furrow your brows. "Don't make me cuff you again" Mike says playfully. You take it as a challenge, deciding to be the biggest brat possible. You knew how much Mike loved taming you, it was like a newfound hobby for him. At one point your attitude was so much he had to throw you over his shoulder and carry you to the bedroom to teach you better manners.
"Or what? I can handle some stupid pair of cuffs" you say while staring at Mikes baby pink lips. He pins you to the bed. His strength is impressive, you couldn't fight him off even if you tried. The guy definitely takes his push ups seriously. You start wiggling underneath him knowing this will piss him off more. His hands only grip tighter around your wrists, further restraining you. "You're so fuckin needy- do you know that?" he growls. You face away from him suddenly feeling bashful.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you." You lock eyes with Mike, your mouth slightly agape. You take notice of his light brown freckles and it's like your heart skips a beat. "Good girl. Now get on your knees" he directs. He loosens his grip on you and stands next to the bed waiting for you to follow his order. "Nah I think I'll stay riiiiight here. You know Mike- your bed is soooo comfy I couldn't possibly eveeerrrr get u-" he grabs your throat and pulls upward forcing you to stand and make your way off the bed. Your tiny fingers attempt to pry him off but it's no use. "Im gonna fuck your mouth until your dumb little brain is empty. How does that sound hm?"
That's all it took for you to turn back into his subservient toy. "Anything for you sir". You lower yourself down onto your knees and stick your tongue out. Mike had you basically trained to take position for times like these. He taps his cock on your tongue a few times allowing you to mentally prepare for his length before roughly thrusting into your throat at a decent pace. "It's like you were made for me. God you're so pretty sucking on me like that. Thank daddy for stuffing his cock in your mouth." He pulls back slightly leaving his member resting just barely on your lips. "Thank you daddy" you reply. "Thank you for what? Use your big girl words"
"Thank you for f-fucking my throat." He smiles, "There we go. Good girl". He thrusts back into your mouth and pumps even faster than before. Guess your words really motivated him or something. Mike takes your hair into both his hands and forces you deeper. The sounds of you sputtering and gagging on him push him closer to his climax. You stare up at him with tears rolling down your blushing cheeks. You'd pay any price to stay in this state of pure bliss. "You look so beautiful when you're cockdrunk, princess. I know it's a lot but you're doing so well... j-just a little longer I promise"
Mike pulls out of your mouth leaving spit strings attaching you to him. He grips your sides and picks you up, laying you down on the edge of his bed. You instinctively rest your legs on his chest anytime you're put into the missionary position as it allows him to hit your more sensitive areas easier. He began lining up his length to your throbbing cunt, causing butterflies in your stomach. "You still with me?". You couldn't focus anymore but to nod in confirmation. A low groan left his lips as he slid into you. Slowly but surely you stretched to fit all of him.
"You're all mine princess- ALL fucking mine." Mike pounds deeply into you, using your hips as a handle to move you onto him like his personal fuck toy. The sounds of your pussy around him as well as your high pitched moans were so intoxicating to Mike. You were his favorite pastime activity. "I'm gonna pump so much cum into your sweet little pussy baby. Gonna fill you" he says while wrapping one hand around your throat. Just the thought of him finishing in you made you feel like a feral animal in heat.
Your climax sneaks up on you. You uncontrollably tremble on Mike while babbling what sounds like his name over and over again. Maybe if you were coherent it would be more obvious. "That's it, keep it up little fuck bunny. I love it when your tight pussy drools for me". You felt so overstimulated, bucking and rolling around but his hands pin you once more until he can finish. You felt so small and weak under his control.
He bottoms out in you. You can feel his rhythm getting sloppier, signifying his closeness. "Oh fuck b...baby I'm gon....gonna-" he whimpers. His head falls back while his fingernails dig into your hips. You're filled to the brim with his cum, some of it leaking out around him. For a second it's silent (beside the sound of both of you catching your breath that is). He slowly pulls out, careful not to spill any of his seed out of you. Mike slips his middle finger into you to push it deeper leaving you feeling deliciously full. 
You lay there with your eyes closed unable to wipe the grin off your face. "If this is what happens when I mouth off to him I definitely gotta do it more often" you think to yourself. You distractedly replay the series of events that just happened in your head. You hate to say it but you definitely tuned Mike out for a bit to recall everything correctly. "Hello? You there? Did I kill you? Oh no!! My poor baby!!" he teases, pretending to cry. "What will I ever do!!" He throws himself on top of you like a damsel in distress, pretty much crushing you. "Mikey I swear to god I will punch you" you chuckle. "You do that and I'll tell Abby you threw away her favorite crayons." You pull the blanket right below your eyes pretending to be scared, "Hey man I was just playing around- you'll actually get me killed like that."
⊱✿⊰
This is the final part of Good Morning Princess <3 I hope you guys enjoyed as much as I have!! It was so much fun writing this and I can't wait to keep creating. That being said if y'all have ideas please send them in, i'm pretty busy but Im on here daily. Thanks for reading!!!
#josh hutcherson#mike schmidt#breeding k1nk#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt x reader#mike schimdt fanfic#mike schmidt smut#josh hutcherson smut#smut#fanfic#fnaf movie#fnaf movie fanfic#fnaf movie smut#Josh Hutcherson I need you PLEASE#Spotify
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I would be eternally grateful if you would write GN(afab)!reader/tech NSFW with the prompt:
“aren’t you tired?” “i’m fine. don’t worry about me.”
I love your work!!!
3000 Prompt List Celebration
Tech X GN(afab)!Reader
word count: 1.5k
NSFW
prompt:
“Aren’t you tired?” • “I am fine. Don’t worry about me.”
warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Smut, established relationship, soft sex, Tech is sexually frustrated. They/Them pronouns but female genitalia. Creampie. Praise. Swearing.
authors note: I can only apologist for the delay. Thank you for the support always. @dangraccoon
Times have been incredibly difficult for all of you. The Empire's relentless pressure has forced you to flee and seek safety wherever possible, leading to uncomfortable sleeping arrangements and living situations.
The Marauder, though far from ideal for more than five people to live on, serves as a refuge to keep everyone safe. Amidst all this, you've noticed that Tech, your other half, appears particularly burdened. Fatigue has taken a toll on his once bright eyes, and his demeanor has grown more irritable. While you suspected these changes were due to the challenging circumstances, a part of you suspects something deeper.
You’re about to enter the cockpit when you hear some hushed voices from ahead and upon closer inspection, you realise you were the topic of conversation.
“I don’t want to bother them with my problems.” Tech replies to who you assumed was Wrecker due to his booming voice.
“If you don’t tell them, they will pick up on your issue anyway.”
Curiosity piqued, you decide not to eavesdrop any longer and step into the cockpit, hands on your hips, standing behind the two clones. "What's going on?"
Tech swiftly turns to face you, while Wrecker, clearing his throat, claims he needs to prepare for assisting the others with a task—a half-truth he seizes upon to evade an uncomfortable conversation.
"Oh, darling, you're here," Tech remarks, blinking at you, prompting you to raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to the side.
"Yeah, I've been here for the last nine months," you tease, albeit with a hint of seriousness, as you observe him growing visibly uncomfortable in his seat.
You scrutinise him and fold your arms over your chest. "Tech, are you alright?"
"What makes you think otherwise?" he asks before adjusting his collar and clearing his throat.
You pause, watching him intensely before moving to sit opposite him where Wrecker once sat. "Well, for the past few days, you've been a bit on edge. You look exhausted," you state, cutting to the chase without beating around the bush.
He clears his throat again, tugging at his uniform collar once more. "Lack of sleep seems to be a prevailing issue these days, but I must say I don't feel tense, as you suggest."
"Uh-huh?" you respond skeptically, unconvinced by his answer. "Then what were you and Wrecker talking about?"
"Darling-"
"Tech, tell me," you interject, refusing to listen to his denials that everything is fine when it's evident that something is amiss, and your concern is growing.
He lets out a dejected sigh, knowing you won’t back down from this. So rising from his seat and closing the cockpit door, he turns to you.
"The reason I've been so tense is that I haven't been getting enough sleep, that ouch is true. And neither has anyone else, for that matter," he confesses, shaking his head. Your sympathetic smile encourages him to continue.
"But the main reason for my current state is because I am sexually frustrated."
You blink, taken aback by his admission. Part of you assumes he must be joking, but the seriousness etched on his face tells a different story. As your gaze scans his figure once more, you notice his hand moving lower, revealing his painfully aroused state.
"Oh, honey, why didn't you just say so?" you respond, standing up and slowly approaching him. With your left hand, you gently cup his cheek, looking into his eyes.
"All you had to do was ask. I am yours remember? Always." You say, a light laugh escaping your lips. He chuckles too, reaching up to hold your hand against his cheek, giving it a soft squeeze.
"You're right," he acknowledges matter-of-factly. "We've been too consumed by everything going on and far too preoccupied to engage in any sexual activity anyway."
You still, genuinely unable to recall the last time the two of you were intimate. He's correct; both of you have been exhausted and burdened with worries. Additionally, the cramped confines of the Marauder hardly provide the ideal setting for such… activities.
An idea swiftly enters your mind, and a mischievous spark illuminates your gaze. "When are we all supposed to go on that mission?" you inquire, looking up at him through your lashes, a flirtatious glint in your eyes.
"In approximately thirty-seven minutes," he responds, intrigued by the look in your eyes.
You let out a hum of amusement and slide your hands around the back of his neck, drawing yourself closer to him. "Why don't you and I stay behind? We can claim that we need to...uh...fix something together," you suggest with a suggestive wag of your eyebrows, feeling the heat rise within you at the mere thought of having some intimate time alone with Tech.
He raises an eyebrow, pondering your proposition as he pinches his chin in thought. "I suppose that's something we can arrange. Although I must warn you, Wrecker will undoubtedly figure out what we're up to."
"So what?" you shrug, dismissing any concerns. "Sex shouldn't be considered taboo."
A smile spreads across Tech's face, the weariness in his eyes replaced by a flicker of desire. His arousal intensifies, evident in his pants. "I will talk to Hunter immediately," he asserts, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your lips before exiting the cockpit. His purpose is clear—to secure some precious alone time with you.
Anticipation bubbles within you as you eagerly await the rendezvous. This intimate encounter is undoubtedly something you are eagerly looking forward to.
Despite the knowing looks from Wrecker as the others left, you and Tech were finally left alone.
Finding yourselves alone in the cozy confines of the cockpit, your bodies are entwined. With you straddling his lap, your legs on either side, the intensity of your passionate kissing leaves both of you breathless, your ragged breaths mingling in the air.
You press your body against his, moving in a tantalising rhythm and grinding down on his crotch which elicits soft moans that blend into the passionate exchange.
Each sound he pours into your mouth fuels the fire within you, igniting a shared desire that has been building up for far too long. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you whisper against his lips, your voice filled with longing, "I can't believe we're finally alone. It's been too long." As his fingers dig into your hips, you melt further into his embrace.
He stands, lifting you at the same time before walking towards the ship's control panel and placing you on top. His lips trace your jaw all the while your hand palms over his pants, rubbing at his throbbing erection that had been hidden away for too long.
“I am going to treat you so right, darling.” He grunts under your touch and a small smirk plays on your lips.
“Aren’t you tired?”
“I am fine, don’t worry about me.” He chuckles, sliding your shift off your shoulders and sighs heavenly at the sight of your nude and beautiful skin. “Like I could ever be too tired for you, anyway.”
You wanted to hit back with a remark but instead you let out a soft moan as his lips latched to one of your stiffening nipples, tongue flicking expertly over it. Your head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed as tingles shoot all over your body.
Soon enough, you’re both naked and Tech wastes no time in spreading your legs, lining his cock up with entrance before slowly pushing inside of you, almost bottoming out immediately at the sensation. “You’re positively soaked, darling.” He rasps, hands holding your thighs apart as he watches his cock slick up with your arousal, slowly moving in and out of you.
You hiss due to it being a while since you last had sex with him and with every slow penetration, you could feel him stretching you. “Tech,” you whimper, legs threatening to close despite how good it felt but he kept them open until he place each leg over his shoulder and rocks his hips back and forth.
“That’s it darling, you’re doing so well. Us having intercourse is much needed to release -ugh fuck - tensions.” He sighs, eyes locked on your eyes until he watches the rise and fall of your chest with every thrust he planted into you.
Your back scraped against every button, switch and lever but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to just love him like you always did. Eventually, your legs slip off from his shoulders and you’re being spun around, bent over and taking his soft thrusts from behind. He leans over your back, kissing along your spine and even planting gentle love bites to your shoulder.
Non-surprisingly, your intimate endeavor was shortened than usual as his grunts became more frequent, thrusts becoming staggered and labored as he whispers words of appraisal into your ear.
Your needy cries of ecstasy spurred him on until he couldn’t last no longer, his climax hitting and releasing his long-awaited pleasure into you until he fell forward, chest to your back.
When he pulls out of you, both of your legs are shaky but he pulls you to him, hugging you close as both of you control your breathing. “I think it is safe to say that I believe I will get a good rest this evening. ” He smiles warmly, cheeks a little warm from finishing earlier than he would usually but you didn’t mind at all.
It was what you both needed. “Me too, sweetheart.”
Prompt List Works
Masterlist
Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka a @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone e @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @imalovernotahater @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd d @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions
#bad batch tech x gn reader#bad batch tech x reader#tech x reader#queued post#nahoney22 writes#tbb tech#bad batch tech
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SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Weeks 167 & 168
Welcome to Weeks 167 & 168
A/N: Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. Especially all the Kinktober goodies. 💜 This week had me reading 60 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.
As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community. 💜💜
Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.
Click HERE for past reading lists.
For my Masterlist click HERE
Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.
Page-break by @whimsicalrogers
Header by @fictional-affairs
If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.
I love you 3000 💜 Missy
Fallen Angel - (Brock x OFC, Bucky) - @saiyanprincessswanie
Heaven or Hell? - (Lloyd x Reader) - @shadeysprings
Plum Flavored Chapstick - (Bucky x Reader) - @sergeantbarnessdoll
Winner Winner - (Andy x Reader) - @labella420
Bewitched crossroads - @nekoannie-chan
Here Comes Goodbye - (Jimmy Dobyne x Reader) - @spectre-posts @wiypt-writes
Protector - (Winter Soldier x Reader) - @rookthorne
When You Move, I Move - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817
Kinktober Week 1: Love Bites - (Steve x Reader) - @lunarbuck
Surrender - @mrsmischief209
Stargazing love - @/nekoannie-chan
Armchair - @/nekoannie-chan
Bittersweet - (Bucky x Reader) - @thecornerlot
Might Even Be - (Bucky x Reader) - @slyyywriting
Spy vs. Spy - (Lloyd x Reader) - @andydrysdalerogers
Never Tear Us Apart - (Andy x Reader) - @syntheticavenger
Dark Thor Oneshot- @/syntheticavenger
dangerous - (Bucky x Reader) - @onceuponastory
Ours - (Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader) - @/holylulusworld
Yours & Mine - (Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld
MINE - (Steve x Reader) - @labella420
As He Sees Fit - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817
Sacrifice Yourself and Let Me Have What's Left - @/mrsmischief209
Kinktober 2023, Day 2 - (Steve x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513
Feelin' Gourd - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog
Congratulations! You Just Won The Shock of Your Life At 2 AM! - (Clint x Reader) - @ghostofskywalker
Kinktober Week 1: Thigh Riding - (Lee x Reader) - @lunarbuck
Kinktober, Day 3 - (Paul D x Reader) - @/georgiapeach30513
Day 1: Mile High Club - (Bucky x Reader) - @writing-for-marvel
Slow Hand - (Billy R x Reader) - @/mrsmischief209
Against the ghost - @/nekoannie-chan
Daddy Dearest - (Steve x Reader) - @cherienymphe
Daddy - (Steve x Reader) - @donutloverxo
ever since - (Bucky x Deaf!Reader) - @/syntheticavenger
Hypothetically speaking - (Bucky x Reader) - @littleseasiren
Rooted in Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @/jobean12-blog
Branded - (Curtis x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18
Kinktober Week 1: Table/ Threesome/Sensory Dep - (Stucky x Reader) - @/lunarbuck
Kinktober 2023, Day 4 - (Cole T x Reader) - @/georgiapeach30513
Kinktober Day 4: Overstimulation - (Bucky x Reader) - @/writing-for-marvel
Tuesday Thots - Sunbeam - (Bucky x Reader) - @/navybrat817
Day 7: Striptease - (Bucky x Reader) - @/writing-for-marvel
Curtis and Honey - Autumn This On That - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
Six Steamy Sentence Challenge - @sagechanoafterdark
Under the Hood - (Steve x Reader) - @/andydrysdalerogers
Don't Make It Harder - (Andy x Reader) - @/slyyywriting
Brock x Reader x Billy Oneshot - @/fluffyprettykitty
Kinktober Week 1: Phone Sex - (Sam x Reader) - @/lunarbuck
Staff unveiled - @/nekoannie-chan
day 3 - choking & spitting - (Lloyd x Reader) - @vellicore
Miss Your Kiss - (Thor x Reader) - @targaryenvampireslayer
THE DEVIL - (Andy x Reader) - @flordeamatista
What is this? - (Brock x Reader) - @/nekoannie-chan
babydoll - (Lee x Reader) - @nickfowlerrr
Everything I want… - (Bucky x Reader) - @thornsnvultures
One Night With You ~ Pt 1 - (Bucky x Reader) - @jtargaryen18
day 1 - cockwarming - (Bucky x Reader) - @/vellicore
Needy - (Bucky x Reader) - @targaryenvampireslayer
Day 10: Exhibitionism - (Bucky x Reader) - @/writing-for-marvel
Only You - (Steve x Reader) -@/flordeamatista
#saiyanprincessswanie#recommended reading#missy reads#missy reblogs#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#brock rumlow x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#andy barber x reader#winter soldier x reader#clint barton x reader#lee bodecker x reader#billy russo x reader#curtis everett x reader#Paul diskant x Reader#cole turner x reader#sam wilson x reader
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I love you 3000 writing bonanza!
I’ve hit 3000 followers!!!
Now if you remember a while ago I asked how you guys would like to celebrate and this is what I’ve come up with! If you remember my 2.5k Followers Writing Challenge and Exchange its kinda similar to that but I’ve made some improvements!
What is going to happen is I am going to open up my askbox/dms for requests!
To make this manageable and allow me to complete as many as possible I will only be accepting requests in these following forms:
1) A question about a character or series
For example: How would X characters feel about Y character doing XYZ?
2) A What If…. For one of my series
For example: What If the character for X series met 10 years prior
3) A request using a maximum of 3 of the prompts below (the list is hella long so I’ve put it below the cut!)
For Example: Ari Levinson / Mob AU / You won’t get away so easy
If I receive a request that does not fall into one of these three categories then I will not fulfill it!
And because I like for everyone to be able to get involved if you yourself are a writer/want to give writing a go and you like any of the below prompts feel free to use them (the max of 3 doesn’t apply to you guys) all I ask is that you tag me, use the hashtag Niamh Loves You 3000, use appropriate warnings and let me know which ones you’re using so I can keep my eye out!
If you are writing a fic using the below prompts I ask you to follow these rules:
No sexual relations with minors, no somnophilia, necrophilia, incest, toilet stuff, snuff, or beastiality!
Dark Fics are allowed (Non-Con/Dub-Con) but they MUST BE APPROPRIATELY TAGGED!
Any creation MUST BE ORIGINAL! No stealing, stealing is bad!
The creation if part of a series must be able to be read as a stand alone!
No word limit! If it’s over 500 please use the read more function!
All the prompts are below the cut, remember its a max of three, but you can mix and match as you like so the possibilities are endless!
Characters:
Chris Evans
Steve Rogers
Andy Barber
Frank Adler
Ari Levinson
Curtis Everett
Johnny Storm
Jake Jensen
Ransom Drysdale
Any other Chris Evans character
Trope:
Fake Dating
Only One Bed
Enemies to Lovers
Friends to Lovers
Cuddling for warmth
Trapped together
Mistaken Identity
One night only
Love Triangle
Fated Mates
Childhood Sweethearts
Grumpy x Sunshine
Forbinned Love
Forced Proximity
WILDCARD! (You can pick an Trope not listed!)
AU:
A/B/O AU
Mob AU
Sports team AU
College AU
Emergency Service AU
(Medieval) Royalty AU
(Modern) Royalty AU
Pornstar AU
Fairytale / Fantasy AU
Biker AU
Soulmate AU
Band/Musician AU
WILDCARD! (You can pick an AU not listed!)
Dialogue:
"I told you not to touch that"
"I'm tired of answering that question"
"Why didn't they come?"
"I'm so sick of pretending everything's okay"
"don't just stand there! do something!"
"do you remember that night in [insert place]?"
"is there a problem here gentlemen?"
"what on earth happened here?"
"there's blood everywhere"
"Get in the van!"
"I'm not saying you're a bad cook, but even the flies in the kitchen wear gas masks."
"I may be a terrible dancer, but I've got great moves in bed."
"I'm not high maintenance; I'm just low tolerance for mediocrity."
"I love the sound of your voice and the way you say my name."
"Being with you feels like coming home."
“You're not the person I thought you were."
"I never imagined my life without you."
"I never got to say goodbye."
"I'm so glad you're here to point out my flaws. I would never have noticed them on my own."
"Oh, don't worry about being late. We'll just sit here and wait for you forever."
"I'm sorry. Did I ask for your opinion?"
"Why do you always insist on seeing the worst in people?"
"It's not my fault you can't handle the truth."
"You don't know what I'm capable of."
"I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want."
"You think you're better than me, but you're not."
"I'll use anyone I need to achieve my goals."
"You've made a huge mistake, and now you're going to pay for it."
"Don't you realize how much you've hurt everyone around you?"
"you have no idea what you do to me"
"don't you dare go slow"
"I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow"
"move and you won't be coming tonight"
"hands behind you're back"
"Beg for it"
"you can take it, you've done it before"
"I'm going to fucking ruin you"
"do you think you deserve a reward/punishment?"
"show me how much you missed me"
"Are you holding back? don't"
"shall we put your mouth to better use?"
"Slowly, I'm not going anywhere"
"I said I'd take care of you"
"Please, I can't sit still"
So there’s absolutely so many to pick from covering fluff, comedy, angst and smut 😉 don’t forget to follow the rules I’ve set out above!!
I love you all 3000 🩵🩵🩵
#NiamhCelebrates#Niamh Loves You 3000#Writing Event#writing challenge#request info#chris evans#andy barber#ari levinson#ransom drysdale#johnny storm#jake jensen#steve rogers#colin shea
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Mr. & Mrs. Stark
Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, kidnapping, anal, oral, fear, manipulation, cheating, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your life is turned upside down. First by Tony Stark. Then Steve Rogers.
Characters: Stony x reader
Note: This if for I love you 3000 dark writing challenge 2022 . I chose Stony with the basement wife trope. This is my first time doing Stony and only my second full length Tony fic.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Mother Goose loves being a goose? Take care. 💖
[Italics are flashbacks]
Tick, tick, tick.
The wall stares back at you, your only companion as a hint of cleaner lingers, tickling your nose with artificial lilac. Your hands curve around the porcelain, the tea lukewarm in your neglect. All is as it should be. The kitchen is quiet and empty, every counter shining, every tile mopped and stringent.
You blow out between your lips as that urgent flutter rises in your chest. That feeling that never goes away. Anticipation, rather anxiety. Revery, rather, regret. How did you get here?
Stark Tower was eerie after hours but you often found comfort in the late nights. Forgotten in the lower floors to sort through the endless cycle of files and memos, there’s a peace that nestles deep in the heart of the bustling corporation. The shuffle of paper, the rustle of pages landed in the bin, others sent off in tubes. For a company known for innovation, the system was antiquated.
You capped another container and sent it up. The work kept your hands busy, your mind distracted. Menial work, nothing like those on the top floors. The suits and the heroes. Among the excitement of the next new Stark invention was the boss himself and his team of avengers. A tier unreachable to any other.
You were happy in your little nook. Your place. Where you belonged. It wasn’t much but you made enough for rent, you had insurance, and a few perks that made the day tolerable. You reached for your forgotten coffee and took a bitter swig. It was cold and stale, but it was free.
Tick, tick, tick.
You blink at the clock and look down at your tea. The subtle amber hue of steeped herbs. You stand up, the scrape of the chair’s feet blasphemous in the silence. Your heels click across the floor and you dump the tea down the sink, rinsing the residue with the faucet. You watch the water swirl down, a small cyclone draining into the pipes.
You put the mug aside and close your eyes. You hang your head as you clutch the edge of the sink and shudder. The sterile air is cold and unwelcoming. You can never settle. Not here.
You rose and cursed at the brim of your cup. Your hips ached from your awkward perch on the high stool as you sorted. The nights often saw you waddling off with a stiff back and cramped legs. You groaned as you rubbed your lower back and elbowed through the door into the hall.
You poured the coffee into the water fountain just outside and pushed down the knob to wash away the remnants. You dropped the empty cup in the bin against the far wall with a hollow thwop and pushed your neck back with a sigh. Your shoulders were knotted, tugging on one another each time you moved.
There was an echo of your footstep as you shuffled back to the mailroom. You paused and looked down the hall. The lighting is pale and painful as it stings your tired eyes. Night shift always had that sobering effect, the hyper awareness that chiseled away at your sanity. You shake your head and pull open the door, dipping back into the room laced with the scent of paper.
You drag your hand blindly across the counter and retrieve the mug, giving it a proper scrub before drying it and placing it in the perfect line of cups in the cupboard. You shut the door and back up, turning to face the purgatory of your existence. The static raises goosebumps on your skin.
You cross the room and look into the next. The plush couch, the large TV, the luxurious carpet, a wall of windows that almost seem real. It’s a dream, the home everyone would love. Everyone but you.
You walk around the couch and near the wall that looks out onto the city skyline. That gives the illusion of a high rise. You touch the LCD and shake your head. A dystopian simulation stands all around you. A cell made to look like paradise.
It was 4am. Actually, twenty minutes past. You’d lost track of time but wouldn’t clock the extra minutes. You just wanted to go home and fall into bed. A hot shower sounded nice but you didn’t have the energy for that.
You locked the mailroom behind you and spun to face the hall. That noise. That echo, just a second off the scuff of your sole. You looked down at your black sneakers, the fifteen dollar pair that would wear through in a few months. The flat inline that did nothing for your pain.
You took a breath and looked both ways down the hall before you set off down your usual route. The subway was empty around this time of day, the closest ramp sat behind Stark Tower. You wound down the twists and turns of the basement towards the rear exit.
Before you turned the corner, you heard a click, the gentle touch of metal on metal. You slowed as you peeked around and found nothing but the heavy door that led to the concrete stairwell. Sometimes the janitor was around, starting their shift, but you didn’t see their cart or any signs of cleaning.
You sighed and rubbed your eyes as your knapsack dangled from your right shoulder. You were tired, you were hearing things. You pushed through the door, the noise echoed up the floors above. Your shoes squeaked as you crossed the cracked floor, neglected for the upper tiers of the tower. Your foot never met the first step.
“Honey, I’m home,” Tony’s voice draws you back from the live stream of the cityscape. You back away and quickly go to meet him, forcing a laugh at his oft repeated joke.
You stand at the end of the hallway as you watch him. He grunts as he rolls his shoulders and smiles as he sees you. You rush forward to help him out of his suit jacket. He stops you before you can hang it and kisses your cheek, “honey, you okay?”
“Yes, sir,” you say as you turn and sling his jacket on the coat rack, “I just finished tidying up.”
“Ah,” he taps your ass softly, “good girl.”
You step away and fold your hands compliantly. He sits on the bench with the shelf of shoes below. You get to your knees and slip off his loafers, inserting them into the empty space beneath. He catches your chin as you sit back on your heels and makes you look at him.
“You’re so good to me, baby,” he strokes your chin with his thumb, “you look tired.”
“Oh, I…” you touch your cheeks and shy away, “I forgot to–”
“No, I don’t mind,” he grabs your jaw more firmly before you can pull away, “a natural beauty.”
“Thank you, sir,” you swallow.
“Baby, tonight is not about me, it’s about you.”
You blink. Your chest twinges. You know that’s never true. You stare and wait for his trick to unfold.
“Shhh, baby, please, it’s okay,” the voice tickled the shell of your ear as you writhed in his grasp, “don’t fight it. It only makes it worse–”
You clawed at the tails of his jacket as your feet hit the floor helplessly. You saw the odd bracelet beneath his sleeve and the sudden cloud of blue smoke that puffed from it. It seeped into your nose and flooded your head, eyes itchy and mouth dry as you were forced to inhale the mist.
“Alright, it’s okay,” he kept his arm around your neck as he pet your head, easing you down to the floor as your body went limp, “just go to sleep. Shhhh, it’s alright.”
“Me?” You wonder as you bat your lashes. He drags his hand up to your cheek and gives a playful tap.
“Baby, go draw yourself a bath and relax,” he purrs as you remain kneeling between his knees, “as much as I love to see you in this position, you earned it.”
“Sir,” you breathe.
He offers his hand and you take it, cautious. He stands and pulls you up with him. His other hand crawls down your side and he hums as he eyes your dress.
“Can you believe it? One year. One whole year.”
You blanch and touch his hand as he squeezes your side. You nearly stagger at the revelation.
Tick, tick, tick. You hear the clock in the kitchen. How many hours, how many days, how many months. Not knowing is easier. You inhale deeply and let your hand trail up his arm, resisting the urge to shove him away.
“Happy anniversary,” you eke out, you know what he wants. He’s taught you exactly what to say.
“Aw, baby, happy anniversary,” he pulls you against him and crushes his lips against yours. He kisses you roughly, the trim along his chin tickles, as his warmth consumes you.
You woke up in darkness. Pitch black. You couldn’t see your own fingers as you waved them in front of your face. Naked but for the light weight around your neck. The panic quickly began to bloom.
“Baby, you’re awake,” the bodiless voice cooed, “ah, ah,” he tutted as you tried to sit up, only to fall back dizzily, “don’t go making too much fuss. You gotta give it time.”
“Wh–wh–” Where are you? What happened? You can’t put it into words as you’re paralysed by the throbbing in your head.
“One thing at a time, baby. This is level one.”
Level one, you blinked. Confused in the fog of your brain, the blackness, the voice that seemed to come from all around you.
“Level two is easier, but one is more fun,” he chuckled, “so baby, let’s start easy–”
“Who are you?” You whimpered as your body shook with the effort to sit up.
“Ah, I was about to get to that,” he taunted, “now, baby, don’t get so worked up. Your heart is pumping so hard, you’re gonna knock yourself out.”
“Please–”
“Baby, I’m warning you, it’s easy if you listen,” he dragged out the last word to a growl. “You can call me–”
“I’m scared,” your chest thumped hard as your ears rang, “please–”
Your muscles constricted suddenly and you crumpled onto the ground, prostrated on your back as the surge stretched every nerve to its limit.
“Baby, don’t make me do that again,” he warned as the tension slaked away and left you panting weakly, “for now, you will call me ‘sir’.”
The bathing pool stands against the wall, a great basin of steamy water, scented with rose as you dip into the depths. The heat should be relaxing but you can’t even remember what it feels like to relax. You lean against the wall and pull your knees up, bending your arms over your legs as you sit alone.
Tony surprises you as he appears, a bottle in one hand, two glasses balanced in the other. He puts them down on the tile that edges the tub and uncorks the bottle, a swell of foam rising over the top as he holds it away from him. He pours a full glass for both of you.
“Baby,” he lifts one and holds it out.
You push through the water to take it, “thank you, sir.”
You retreat and stare at the bubbly golden nectar. You were never a drinker but he never afforded you the indulgence. Maybe he’d allow you enough to forget. Or at least, accept.
“Thank you, baby,” he winks and peeks beneath the surface of the water, “you’re a sweet little thing.”
You smile, it’s brittle and painful as it dimples your cheek.
“Go on, have a drink, don’t wait on me,” he bids as he pulls free his tie, “we got all night.”
You carefully put the flute to your lips and daintily taste the wine. It’s sweet and sour at once. You nearly choke as you swallow it down. You drink deeper as the heat spreads through your chest.
You quivered and whined as another vibe rose from within. You don’t understand. It was hours of this. You reached searchingly down and still nothing. No, just your body. What was happening to you?
You felt along your cunt, dripping with your cum as a vibration pulses from within. You whimpered as you grazed your clit, adding to the overwhelming sensation. You hissed and poked your fingers inside, prodding, pushing as you tried to find the source. Still, you come up empty.
You rolled onto your back and cried out as you came again, body contorting with the raging tide of your climax. Your fingers curled into your palms and your toes bent until they would break. You gulped down air desperately, your head spinning as the rippling continued to course through you.
“Baby, you’re doing so good,” his voice taunted from the unseen speaker, “so good but you keep touching yourself, and I won’t be so generous.”
Tony slides up next to you, stretching his arm over your shoulders as he sits snugly against you. He clinks your glass with his and sips, his dark eyes clinging to you. You drink too and finish the last mouthful.
“Thirsty?” He muses. “As always.”
You look at your empty glass, “sorry, sir, I didn’t–”
“Go on, have some more,” he prompts, “it’s a special night, baby.”
You don’t want more. You already feel off-kilter but you know better than to say no. You wade over to the edge and fill your glass before you return to him. As you do, he directs you into his lap, his dick bobbing hard beneath you.
“Mmm, baby,” he reaches around you and takes your glass, “you’re delectable. I could eat you up.”
He presses the brim to your lips and tilts it. You swallow as he pours into your mouth, gulping as the deluge nearly chokes you. When the glass is empty, you cough and he draws it away, placing it beside his one the tile.
He hugs you from behind and kisses your shoulder, “missed you. Sorry I was gone so long but things… got a bit hairy.”
“Yes, sir,” you lean back against him as his hands crawl up your stomach and he fondles your tits. He groans as your ass rests on his twitching length.
“You know him,” he speaks against your skin and sighs, “always something to argue about. Not like you, baby. You know how much I love you, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” you lie.
“Fuck, it hurts how much I love you,” he snarls and nips at your neck, “I need you on me right now.”
“Sir,” your throat tightens as his hand wanders up to your neck.
You lift yourself slightly and feel beneath you. You angle his dick along your folds and spread your legs around his, easing down until you feel him in your stomach. You groan as your body tenses at the fullness. He squeezes your throat as his other hand grips your hip, forcing you down until it hurts.
“Good girl,” he rasps as he moves you slowly, guiding your pelvis in a torturous rock. “I’ve been thinking of this forever. One year…”
He growls and his hot breath fans over your shoulder and down your chest as he dips his head against you. He keeps his hold on your hip and his other hand drifts along your skin and down your arm. He takes your hand and raises it over the water, toying with the ring on your finger.
“Did you miss me?” He moans as he tilts you a little faster.
“Yes, sir,” you answer as you follow his lead, curling your fingers against his thigh, “I always do.”
“I wish it wasn’t so lonely down here for you,” he leans back, hanging his head back over the edge, “keep going.”
He pulls his hands back, bracing the tub as he groans. You keep your hips rolling, breath rising in shallow puffs as you fuck him. His deep voice drowns as he lets you take over, water slapping between your bodies.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” he slaps your ass from the side, “you got a nice fucking ass. I think of that ass–” he grunts, “too much. Oh, god.”
You let out pathetic murmurs as he swoops his arm around you. He rubs your clit in circles as you work in his lap, knees against the porcelain as you grasp his thigh tighter.
“Fuck, baby, harder,” he begs as his fingers quicken on your clit, “yeah, like that.”
You obey, your voice underlining your frantic breaths. He snarls as the water splashes around your motion. You’re close as your walls clench him. He can feel it as he flicks you urgently. Your orgasm rolls over you but you fight through the pique to keep going.
“Mmm, you’re so good to me,” he presses on your bud until you whimper, “tell me to cum, baby.”
“Cum for me,” you huff, “sir, please, cum for me. You want to cum for me, don’t you?” You close your eyes as you recite your lines. “Are you bad? Are you going to cum in me?” He gurgles as you feel his body stiffen, “where do you wanna cum, sir?”
“Where do you want me to–” he rasps.
“Cum in me, sir, please,” you say through tight lips, “fill me up, please. I need it, sir.”
He spasm and latches onto your sides. He slams you down, over and over as he growls and fucks you from below. His pace is erratic and wild as the warmth coats your walls, slickening around him as he eases up. Finally, he stills you, pulling you back against his chest as he sighs.
“Mmm, I needed that,” he traces a line up your stomach, “but baby, I’m gonna cover every part of you in me.”
🕛
Just another day. Each like the last and the next. The only unknown is when he will be there. When he will come to cement the futility of your imprisonment.
There's never much to do. It's just you, you don't make much mess, and he doesn't leave much for you to clean up beyond yourself.
You pace as you usually do. By the books on the shelves you couldn't read for the reminder of what you'll never have again. The same reason the television stays black. The easel and paints that you only used once. The puzzle books you can't focus on enough to finish one riddle. The half-done knitting project. The evidence of your addled existence all around.
Click, click, click.
Your heels keep a tempo on the floor, holding pace with the ebb and flow of your thoughts. Slow, then fast, then stilling for just a moment as you turn back.
Click. Not a heel. Click. At the door. Click, click, scratch, beep, beep, beep.
You go to the doorway and peek around the plaster. The door shifts, shakes, then opens. You hide behind the plaster quickly. It can't be real. You've finally snapped.
The door whispers to a stop as he steps inside, his sole soft on the floor. You hold your breath and listen, not daring to poke your head out again. The gentle friction of some object moved and put back.
You step out of one shoe at a time and bend to pick them up. The rustle of fabric, a careful inspection of the coats by the door, for decoration alone. You don't need them, you never go out.
You cautiously tiptoe away as his footfalls advance down the hallway, closer. You scurry into the bedroom, panic tying your nerves in clusters as you look around. What do you do?
You roll open the closet and pull it shut swiftly as you spin inside. You slip on between the dresses hung on hangers and watch between the slats as the muffled noise of his invasion draws closer and closer.
He lets out a long exhale as his shadow skews over the hardwood.
"I can hear you," he utters to the air, "you're heartbeat. Come out."
You close your eyes and push yourself to the back of the closet, swallowed by the fabric around you.
"I know you're afraid. Your heart is racing. But I'm not here to hurt you." He steps inside and you quiver as you look through one eye, his blurry figure visible through the slat. "It's me, Cap? Steve Rogers."
He lets the declaration hang as he walks around the bed. He turns his back to you as he nears the night table, where an oval frame holds a picture of your and Tony. A picture where the sadness underlines your tight smile.
"The fuck…" he breathes.
"I'm not mad at you," he turns back, walking along the wall, towards the closet. "Not as much as him."
You smother your mouth as your tears trickle out. Tony's husband is just on the other side of the door and you're hiding. Hiding because he wouldn't believe you. Because you have nowhere to go and you learned long ago these heroes are anything but.
He pushes the door open so it folds, the wood snapping against itself. You sniffle as he shoves apart the hangers, unveiling you. His figure is shadowed as he blocks out the light of the bedroom.
"I'm sorry," you croak and cower.
"Come out," he says evenly, the anger barely restrained, "now."
You drop your shoes and step out. He moves back and watches you emerge. He looks you over as you shy away, slipping your hand behind your back as you see the golden band on his finger.
"Hey," he catches your arm and forces your hand up. His jaw ticks and he grits his teeth, letting go of you as he sneers, "fucking bastard. I knew it. And he was accusing me, but here–" he stops himself. "Let's go."
He grabs your wrist and drags you across the floor. You squeak as you try to dig in your heels, only causing your feet to drag painfully across the hardwood.
"Please, you can't-"
"Like hell I can't," he growls, "he wants to have a little pet, well too bad."
"No, please, listen," you plead as he forces you into the front room and marches you down the long hallway to the open door, "he won't let m–"
He tries to force you over the threshold and you cry out as a zap runs up your hand and down your spine. You violently rip away from him and hit the wall as you cradle your fingers, the ring searing you from the inside out. You sob and slide down to the floor.
"Christ! Tony!" He hollers as he squats and grabs your hand, "fucking–"
He tries to pull the ring off and another jolt surges in your, another shrill shriek as you swat him away.
"No, you can't–" you gasp as he lets you go and you keel over on the floor, weeping.
He huffs and stands up, kicking over the coat rack. It barely misses you as it falls and you sit up against the wall, breathless and babbling. You want to leave, you would do anything to leave, but you can't. He doesn't know how it hurts.
"Fuck!" He takes off his own ring and tosses it away, "fuck!"
"Always were the nosy type, Rogers," you wince as Tony’s voice echoes from the corners. You shrink as Steve turns, searching for him, "you spoiled the surprise."
"Surprise? Fuck you, Tony!"
"Now, now, honey, I couldn't give you an untrained pet, could I?"
"Bullshit!" Steve spins again, narrowing his eyes at a seam in the wall, "you've been fucking… her."
"I've been getting her ready for you," Tony calls back. The door suddenly shuts on its own and the lock whirs back into place. "Now don't go tryna run off on me just yet."
You curl up as Steve storms at the door and hits it with his shoulder. He does it several times and pulls at the handle. He snarls and kicks it, staggering back out of breath.
He pivots as he grips his hips and looks down at you, chest rising and falling heavily. He sighs and shakes his head. He slips down to sit on the floor beside the overturned coat rack.
"How long have you been here?" He asks.
You shrug, mopping your face with the back of your hands, "I don't know… a year… more."
"Do you want to be here?"
You stare at him, "that doesn't matter."
His blue eyes wander up the wall and he tilts his head back, "you're telling me."
You sit in silence, hugging your knees as you tremble and stare at his hand, fingers furling and unfurling. You hang your head and wipe your nose.
"I can make some coffee," you offer softly.
He flicks his fingers, exasperated, "sure, what the hell else am I gonna do?"
👠
You approach Steve quietly and set down the cup. He doesn't acknowledge you and you go to grab the cream and sugar, placing it close to the mug.
"Do you want milk instead?" You offer.
He breaks his trance fixated on the fridge and looks at you, "no, it's fine…" he wraps his long fingers around the porcelain, "thank you."
"I made cookies yesterday. Or the day before. I don’t know."
His lips part, a moment of disgust. He blinks, "no, no, that's… jeez. Can you sit down?"
"No, I have to be ready. I have to…" you stop your manic rambling, "sorry, sir, I'm sorry."
"Don't. Don't apologise. Don't talk like that. What is wrong with you?"
Your lip quivers and your frown. Your cheek twitches as your legs shake, "you're supposed to tell me what's wrong."
He bites down and stands. You flinch as he touches your upper arms and guides you back to sit in another chair. He holds you there and reluctantly parts.
"Where did you come from?" He sits and leans an elbow on the table as he hooks two fingers through the handle of the mug.
"I…" you look at the table, the rippled knot in the wood and cover it with your hand, "I worked the mailroom at Stark Tower. Once. Before…"
"Mailroom?" He cringes, "you're the one–"
He puts his hand to his mouth as his forehead wrinkles. He slips his head down and braces his forehead. You chew the inside of your cheek and look away.
"I'm sorry."
"No, I am," he sits back and grabs the cup, taking a deep gulp. He sighs and slams the cup down abruptly. The table jars and he stands, stomping out, "I can't fucking look at you."
You can't blame him. You hate yourself too. You hear him pacing in the hallway, then into the front room, something crashes and you drop your head down onto your arms as you slump against the table. This can't be real.
The door whirs and you sit up sharply, rocking the chair beneath you. Tony's voice flows down the hall.
"Honey, I'm home."
There's silence, then barreling steps down the hall. You turn and stare as Steve charges Tony back into the door as it locks. You don't move, paralysed as the blonde reels back and yowls.
"Come on, Rogers, you're not gonna bully me," Tony shows the odd skeleton contraption that wraps his hand, "why are you so ungrateful?"
"Me? You–"
"I told you, she's a gift. I'm surprised you waited for me to get started."
"Her? I don't–"
You can't see Steve, only Tony as he stands in the crux of the two doors.
"Tell me you don't want the sweet little thing," Tony taunts, "Rogers, I'd love to see it."
"Shut the fuck up. What did you do to her?"
"Everything that's going through your head at this very moment."
Silence. Tick, tick, tick.
"Tony," Steve mutters.
"Steve," Tony answers brightly, "you want her mouth first or–"
"Stop."
"I left her ass alone. For you, baby."
"Stop!" Steve shoves him and storms away, then back again.
Tony snickers as he regains his balance, "you're getting hard right now thinking about it. You want her. She's just your type, Captain. I should know."
"Stop, please," Steve begs, "we're married. You're–"
"I know you, all your little toys. Before–"
"I stopped," Steve blusters, "I stopped for you, Tony! What are you doing?"
"I'm spicing things up. Tell me it hasn't gotten stale."
"No shit. You got some girl locked up in this– this– bunker. Tony!"
"I can see your raging hard on, buddy, you don't gotta pretend with me–"
"Tony, I'm gonna fucking kill you. You are so–"
"Depraved? Fucked up? Kinky? You knew it. Let me hold her for you. Huh? I'll bend that pretty little ass over as you watch her suck my dick. Tell me you don't want it."
"Ton…" Steve rasps, "why?"
"Why not?"
Tick, tick, tick. You look up at the clock. Waiting.
"Oh, honey," Tony sings, "come here and meet the Captain."
You push the chair back, scraping loudly on the floor. You get up and rigidly turn, striding out to the hallway. Tony leads you in front of him to face Steve.
"Look at her," he snakes his arm around to force your chin up, "precious, isn't she?"
Steve takes a deep breath. The veins in his arms bulge as his eyes narrow and his pupils dilate. His head twitches as he clenches his jaw.
"And isn't he just the most hunky piece of star-spangled beef you've ever seen, baby?" Tony purrs against your crown.
"Yes, sir," you answer diligently.
"See how well I trained her, Cap? The soldier in you should be proud. Huh? Call him Captain, honey. He likes that."
"Okay, Captain," you shudder as Tony steps back.
Steve moans as he shifts his weight, his hand rising to brush down his chest. Tony tugs down the zipper of your dress and the fabric slackens. He pushes it down, baring you as he shoves it past your hips. You're left naked and prone to the other man's gaze.
"Rogers," Tony says in a musical taunt as he grabs your waist and urges you forward. "Look at her."
Steve looks down and shakes his head. He hooks his thumbs in the loops of his jeans.
"She wants you, Rogers. What's she gonna do without the Captain's firm hand?"
Steve takes a quaking breath and sucks his teeth. He tilts his head from side to side like a horse trying to shake its reins. His cheek dimples as he nods.
"Take her to the bedroom," he whispers, "gimme a moment here."
"You heard him," Tony lowers his hand to give your ass a tap, "get all nice and wet for him, baby."
Tony grasps your shoulders and steers you around Steve, who turns to watch as you go, eyes hooded and heavy. A darker presence lurks in him, something frightening, like a tiger licking its chops. The man behind you chuckles and urges you on.
In the bedroom, your blood cools and the heat razes your skin. You know how it goes, it always ends. You just need to get through it. Bite your lip, ball your hands, hold your breath, any way you can.
Tony takes you to the bed, ordering you around as he moves your body to his whims. Ass up, hands on the mattress, waiting, quiet, compliant.
He tickles your ass as he lingers behind you. You wince as he turns and gropes you fully.
“Be good for him, baby,” he groans as he pushes his pelvis against you, “I know you can do it.”
“Yes, sir,” you watch the bedspread.
You hear the floor creak. Tony stops you from looking back as he lifts a knee onto the bed. He grabs your skull and tuts, climbing in front of you as he holds you in place. He hushes you and pets your hair.
"Baby, it's okay," he coos and looks over you, "top drawer."
You curl your fingers into the blankets as you lean on your elbows. Clothing rustles around deliberate steps, a shadow looming behind you as Tony hangs on, keeping you blind to the other man.
"Baby, why don't you use that pretty mouth of yours while he gets warmed up?"
You push a hand up, clumsily picking open Tony's slacks, a designer cut like everything else. You tug at his fly and spreading them wide. He raises himself on his knees and wiggles as you eases them down, pulling the elastic of his briefs away from his stomach.
You shove the fabric low enough to pull him over the top, stroking him as he groans. He caresses your temple as your hand travels the length of him and back down, his veins throbbing against your palm. You shift closer as press your lips to his tips, sliding back the skin as you open your mouth around him.
"Mmm, yes, baby, that's so good. See how good she listens, honey?"
Steve grunts and something cool touches your ass. You whimper around Tony but he keeps your head bobbing, hooking a hand around to feel himself in your throat. You gag but hold it back.
"Mmm, she's good with her mouth, but you'll have to let me know about her ass," Tony hums as he carries the motion with his hips, fucking your mouth steadily.
The coolness retracts and cracks across your ass sharply. You choke as your eyes prick, the leather lashing again, biting into your tender flesh. You claw at the bottom of Tony's shirt and whine. Another snap of the belt has you shaking as your hand runs up Tony's torso.
Your tears leak out again, your body constricting as you try not to bite down. Steve lays another, full force and your legs slip you as your body contracts. You pull off of Tony as the pain overrides your restraint.
"Get her," Steve's tone is deep and rocky, "hold her."
Tony pins you down by your shoulders and Steve puts his leg over your thighs. He whips you again, again, until you're bawling and dripping with tears. He stops and traces a welt, blood leaking out hotly.
He slides his leg off you and exhales. Tony lets go and takes the end of the looped belt, angling it over your head. It's drawn tight to the buckle, forcing your head up. You sniff as Tony cradles your cheeks.
"Get that ass up, baby," Tony coaxes, "I know you can do it."
You shakily bend your legs under you and lift yourself. You hold yourself up on all fours as Steve backs away. Tony pushes a thumb against your lip and pokes inside your mouth.
A slippery cold trickle glides down between your cheeks and you flinch. Something lands beside your leg as Steve's hands spread across your ass. He dips his fingers down to smear the lube over your puckered hole. You tighten as he tickles you, playing and prodding, teasing as if he might delve further at any moment.
"I'll take a lot more for me to forgive you," Steve pushes his thumb against your ring, stretching you with the thick digits as you whimper.
"This is a start, isn't it, Rogers? I could never be that perfect little homemaker."
Steve growls and urges his finger deeper and you bite down on Tony's knuckle, the intrusion burning painfully. You suck on his thumb and bat your lashes, rolling your eyes back against the deluge.
"She's tight."
"I didn't fucking lie."
"Not about this," Steve grits, pushing in and out. "Hey, doll, you better loosen up."
You blow out as Tony slides back his hand to hold your chin. He looks down at you and winks, "Cap can be a big softie, if you let him."
Steve slips free of your ring and steps up, inching you back on the bed. His dick brushes along the curves of your ass and he angles it down between your cheeks. You gulp and flick your lashes up.
"Take it easy on her, can't have you breaking her right away," Tony warns.
Steve sneers as he edges along your ring and sets his feet. He leans in as you whimper, slowly opening for him. He doesn't let up, forcing himself deeper with short thrusts. You shriek with the horrid strain and reach back as you try to push him away with your fingertips, meeting only air.
He bucks into you completely and you cry out. Tony shushes you and grips your jaw, pushing you up to only your knees at the edge of the bed. Steve clutches your hip as his other hand explores your torso. He rocks against you, long, torturous thrusts.
You wheeze through your teeth, gnashing down as the agony stirs bile at the back of your throat. Tony cradles your face in his hands, resting his forehead against yours.
"Baby, you're doing it. Shhhh, you're doing so good. Isn't she, Captain?"
"Yeah," Steve says airily, speeding up so his pelvis slaps your wrought skin, "yeah, doll, so good."
Tony lets out a crackly chuckle, "see, baby, he loves you. Taking him so well. That's it. It won't hurt much longer."
You whimper and blubber as you clasp Tony's wrists. Your body vibrates around Steve as he pounds harder, harder, fingertips jabbing into your hip. He snarls and brings his hand to your throat, pulling you away from Tony.
Your eyes loll as he forces your head up, squeezing until you choke. You feel the bed shift and Tony's figure wisps by as he goes to stand behind his husband.
"That's it, Cap, that's how you do it. You see," Tony reaches around and pulls you back to your limit, "I need that special touch."
"Don't fuck around," Steve chuffs, "you're next."
"Counting on it," Tony slaps Steve's ass he he carries he eager motion, "better save some energy."
"I can do this all day," Steve drags you back and your feet fall to the floor as he bends you over the bed, body flush to yours, "til death do us part, honey."
#tony stark#steve rogers#dark!tony stark#dark!steve rogers#dark tony stark#dark steve rogers#tony stark x steve rogers#stony#dark stony#dark!stony#writing challenge#au#steve rogers x reader#tony stark x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#one shot#mcu#marvel#avengers#iron man#captain america#Iloveyou3000writingchallenge
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recommended works
⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹
these are the folks who have written or drawn something (specifically within the rocket raccoon fan community) that either murdered me, resurrected me, or both.
(i am always open to recs so if you wanna link me to your fave i will be so happy to check them out)
⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎ fanfiction ☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹
The All of You (ao3)
i fuckin love this story so hard. i love the OC. i love the writing. i love the set up. i reread this probably every month or so and pine for more. it's so fuckin good. @lazarel-3000 is a double-threat (at least) who is also on my recced artist list, which means (obviously) they are a recced creator as well.
Casino Royale (ao3)
this fic by @hibatasblog (see also: Entanglement, below) is so fucking delightful. petra quill is so hot i want to date her myself, and the tension between her and rocket is through the roof. loving the angst, loving the little ways that heartbreak seeps through every new paragraph, loving the mystery of trying to figure out what happened to petra and rocket to set them on their separate paths and now bring them back together. always waiting anxiously for the next chapter.
Entanglement (ao3)
this fic by @hibataao3 has me rationing my consumption in a way i have not done in a long time. i'm like "i only read one chapter a week to pace myself, as a little treat for surviving another seven days." beautiful writing and intricate storytelling, the metaphors and analogies are so good i almost wish i was back in undergrad writing a thesis on it.
Friends (tumblr)
@nyxivy is making their way through the rocketober 2023 prompts and the first fic of the series is. so drool-worthy. i've probably read it fifty times since it came out. short and so hot i could die (much like rocket himself), and somehow incredibly sweet in just the span of a few paragraphs? i will continue coming back to this fic and look forward to more from them at every chance i get.
Get Up (tumblr)@caesarhamato22 is another person on my recced creator list because trying to find just one fic to call my "favorite" is a challenge (obviously i was unsuccessful because there are two on this list). anyway this is lovely and fluffy. i die.
last (friday) night (ao3)
nsfw. trying to pick a "favorite" of @aliasrocket's work is like trying to choose a favorite incarnation of rocket (i cannot). guess who is also on my recced creators list.
more than seven (tumblr)
second @caesarhamato22 fic on this list and another recced creator. this one is one of my favorite comfort fics (i mean it's still sexy as hell) that i come back to very often. like it's just so wonderful and sweet and perfect and atmospheric and vibes
stars. (tumblr) ☕︎ stars. (ao3)
sexual tension & some of the loveliest atmospheric writing i've ever consumed. another @aliasrocket fic that lives in my head.
A Very Basic Instinct (tumblr) ☕︎ A Very Basic Instinct (ao3)
nsfw. when i tell you this fic did things to me. it is probably one of the fics i reread most. like, all the time jkjk only semiregularly. check out the author @elegant-fleuret for other equally brainrot-inducing smut (also mentioned in my recced creators).
⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎ art ☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹
@bathmob i wish. i could draw rocket. like this. the vibes are so good. the style. is perfect. i thank the universe whenever i see new art from them.
@glow-autumz is absolutely going to be a published comic artist some day and i will buy anything she works on ever. literally everything she creates has a story behind it, which i love. like, not only are her illustrations gorgeous (and like…often very hot) but every single one is (at least) a single-panel narrative. plus her OC is also cool as hell and i love her interpretations of rocket.
@lazarel-3000 creates the most toe-curlingly delicious art i've seen in a long time. i am seduced by pretty much everything they create. even their rough drafts have me panting. (i also have a crush on their OC and as a bi-lady i look at their art and am often like oh shit this is a fuckin feast). as mentioned before, this artist is also the author of one of my favorite fics and is a recommended creator in general.
@uglly-rodent posts always make me want to pinch the babby raccoom's cheeks and/or cry.
⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎ creators ☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹
@aliasrocket writes such beautiful things it is impossible to pick a favorite (i got two of their fics in the fic section and it was difficult to narrow it down that far and even now, i'm not certain). their tumblr has the added advantage of a ton of drabbles, every single one of which is perfection.
@caesarhamato22 read everything. like everything. great smut but i am a sucker for the slice of life shit and it's so fuckin good here. i just wanna be a nail tech on knowhere/locked in a closet with rocket/have him steal my t-shirt/whatever. it's like all my most domestic desires got turned into little fanfiction dreams. so much wish fulfillment i could die
@elegant-fleuret has great fanfiction (more than just the one on my fic list - i just felt like i had to narrow it down and A Very Basic Instinct literally gives me a a fresh hit of dopamine every time i reread it, which is a lot). plus also art. double-threat.
@evolvingchaoswitch writes with a ton of vulnerability and rawness and angst. i am also in love with the shorter pieces they've been putting out for rocketober 2023 (some really great poetry, some really emotional oneshots, some really hot oneshots). plus their OCs always fuckin rock
@lazarel-3000 look. look. i cannot say this enough. please go check them out they are hope in a hopeless place. some of the sexiest art + one of my very favorite fanfictions + one of my very favorite OCs have come out of this flawless individual. (full disclosure they also did some nsfw art of my OC jolie and rocket that has me crying and dying and hyperventilating on a daily basis)
@love-for-faeries-go-burrrr has another one of my favorite OCs and i am always hungry for their little storylines whenever they post.
@mrwolfhare is one of my favorite sources of gotg food-for-thought. just some of the most thoughtful explorations of the details of both the mcu and comic canon, excellent headcanons, beautiful screenshot sets, and really solid art. the drawtober art and ficlets have been highlights in my days this month and i'm told there may be a rad fanfiction on the horizon so keep your eyes on this! (rad fanfiction is here now! read Subject 880HR on ao3)
#rfh recs#rocket raccoon content#fanfiction recommendation#rocket raccoon fanart#rocket raccoon fanfic#rocket raccoon fanfiction#fan art#fangirl#gotg#guardians of the galaxy vol 3#guardians of the galaxy#rocket raccoon
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A Taste of Submission
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Beefy!Bucky)
Word Count: 579
Summary: You love being Bucky’s good girl.
Author’s Note: So this is for my sweet friend DJ’s @ramp-it-up I love you 3000 Writing Challenge! Congratulations my love! You’re amazing and deserve it all and MORE! Thank you so much for hosting! So there are quite a few things I LOVE here...first and foremost, Bucky but a close second is the HAIR TIE! My love @tuiccim dropped an amazing thot the other day about how Bucky might use my favorite accessory and well I had to run with it! Thank you my beauty! I also LOVE shower sex and well...the last line of the fic says it all. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics
Warnings: very light bondage, some light dirty talk, little praise kink, oral sex (m rec), cursing, Bucky’s in charge and he has his hair tie, smut (18 + ONLY PLEASE!!!)
The warm water runs in rivulets down his sculpted body, your fingertips tracing the same path and following the dips of his stomach, trailing down until you reach the distinct v shape at his hips.
Large, thick fingers wrap around your wrist, stilling your movements. With wide eyes you look up and wait.
He turns you around, your back to his chest, and gathers your hands together. You stay still, patient, as you look over your shoulder to see him slowly pull the black hair tie from his wrist. None of his actions are rushed and his eyes watch you with uninhibited desire.
He slides the hair tie over your hands, binding them together at your lower back.
Your breath hitches and he takes a step closer, his hard cock pressing into your skin.
“Turn around and get on your knees doll,” he quietly commands when his lips caress the shell of your ear.
You do as he says, turning and sinking to the tiled floor of the shower.
He lays his metal hand along the wall, fingertips digging into the stone while his flesh hand grabs your chin and he pushes his thumb into your mouth. You suck on it gently, whimpering when he tugs it free and holds you in place.
You glance up at him, your lashes wet and sticking together, your eyes full of eagerness.
“You want me to stuff that pretty mouth full of my cock baby girl?”
“Please,” you whine, licking your lips.
His fingers release your chin and they curl around his cock as he presses the head to your parted lips.
You open wide, closing your eyes as he pushes deeper.
“That’s it. All of it,” he groans. “Good girl.”
Your tongue sweeps over the length of him and you hollow your cheeks as you slowly suck up to the tip. His metal fingers press hard into the stone tile of the wall, causing small cracks to splinter outward.
He gently tips your chin back, slipping deeper.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Taking my cock so well.”
Your skin glistens with the water that runs over it, peaked nipples dripping as he fucks your mouth over and over.
You gag when he hits the back of your throat, sucking as hard as you can and working your tongue over him in tandem. His thigh muscles flex with his barely controlled restraint and his flesh hand joins his metal one along the wall as his hips thrust erratically.
“Fuck doll face,” he hisses. “Just like that.”
He pulses in your mouth, hic cock thickening before he grunts and spills his cum down your throat. You hum and continue sucking until every drop is gone, his cock popping out of your mouth when you sit back to take a breath.
Your tongue darts out to trace the outline of your lips, glossy and swollen.
He lifts you from the floor, grazing his thumb over your lips before he turns your body and presses your breasts to the cool tiles.
His muscled chest brushes your back and he slips his knee between your legs, spreading them open as his metal fingers ghost up your spine. They dance over your shoulder and close around your throat, tightening when his free hand drops between your legs and his fingers glide through your soaking folds.
“Such a good girl,” he croons, his touch teasing.
“So wet for me. I know how much you love sucking my cock.”
@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza @dreamlessinparis @hiddles-and-skittles @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @loricamebackyetagain @lookiamtrying @loki-laufeyson-1054 @justile @goldylions @breakablebarnes @weekendgothgirl @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @rebel-stardust @seitmai @whippoorwillbarnes @whitewolfey @getwellsoontana @moviequeen51
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#beefy!bucky#beefy!bucky x reader#sebastian stan x reader#djsiloveyou3000writingchallenge
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Scenting Their Prey
Scenting Their Prey
Masterlist
Words: 4.5k
Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only
Warnings: Kidnapping, captivity, drugging, explicit sex, non-con, dub-con, oral (fr), A/B/O dynamics.
Relationships: Alpha!Tony Stark x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader
Summary: As an Omega, you had control of your life and your choices. Until you didn't...
A/N: This is for @ironlady1993's I love you 3000 Challenge and it's VERY late. I'm so sorry. The next and final part will post this week. Bucky's turn. Thank you so much!🙏
Tags are a mess. If you aren't tagged, it's not intentional. I'm working on another way to get word out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You're just letting me go?" you asked.
"Wait by the gate," one of the soldiers told you.
He motioned you toward a simple farmer's gate that broke up the barbed wire fence that stretched out as far as the eye could see. That the man stood slightly in front of the others told you he was the leader. All of them dressed in black tactical gear, all holding rifles except for the one who spoke to you. His was slung across his back.
Your heart raced as you timidly did as you were told. You shivered in the chilly autumn breeze.
Beyond that rusted gate was an open field with a forest at its edge. There were no visible guards beyond the gate: just wide-open spaces, freedom.
You swallowed hard. It couldn't be that easy, could it?
When the northern states began invading the southern border of Canada, everyone knew why. Omega birth rates in the US had been dropping for the last twenty-five years, causing the land of the free to resurrect some very archaic restrictions on the few they had. The alpha population, on the other hand, flourished.
But despite all their twisted efforts, very few omegas were born in the US over the last two decades.
It started with a rash of disappearances. It didn't take long for the media to ascertain that every one of those missing young Canadians was an omega. Once the invasions started in small border towns, the politicians got involved. A war between the two nations would be declared at any time.
None of it helped the omegas caught in the crosshairs. Not yet. One by one, the border towns were invaded. The younger omegas were rounded up and taken into custody. The stories were all over social media. The kidnap victims, male and female, were illegally transported into the US and auctioned off to alphas for vast sums of money.
Your town had been invaded. They'd plucked you out of your life along with all the other young omegas in your community, mated and unmated. You were kept in a makeshift prison on the outskirts of town for the last few weeks, kept company by armed guards.
The facility was run like a prison. All of you were fed three meals a day and allowed a daily shower. But there was no communication with the outside world. No television, internet, or smartphones. You got an hour in a community room each evening after dinner. They provided jigsaw puzzles, craft baskets, and a handful of books. All the books were educational, written to educate omegas on what to expect during heat cycles, nesting, mating and bonding, birth, and parenthood.
The writing was on the wall. You were all held captive, deprived of the suppressants most of you took to control your biology. You were all like death row inmates, waiting for the permanent death of your freedom. It was only a matter of time before you found yourself shipped off to America for auction to some unknown wealthy alpha to claim.
That's why you were so confused now.
With your heart flying, you glanced over your shoulder to see another omega from your town standing in the place where you'd been standing before. She looked as confused as you felt. Both of you wearing the camouflage-colored sweatshirts and jeans they handed out this morning. The boots they gave you were too small, squeezing your toes.
You waited by the gate, exhaling a shaky breath.
What was going to happen next?
The leader marched in your direction, stopping in front of you. The man towered over you, his gaze hard. The subtle scent of him told you he was a beta. All of the guards were.
You froze when he pulled out a small pistol. In the blink of an eye, he pressed it to the side of your neck. You flinched when he pulled the trigger, felt a sharp pinch. Then it burned. What had he shot you with?
"I'm going to open the gate," he said meaningfully. "And you're going to run across the field to the woods. If you stop running, you'll be shot."
Oh, shit.
"Once you get to the woods, you're on your own," he went on. "If you can find your way out of those woods, you're free."
Free, huh? You didn't buy it. They wouldn't have invaded your town, taken you captive, and held you for weeks just to let you go. What was going on here?
With an efficiency that was startling, he lifted the latch on the gate and pulled it open.
"Run!" he yelled.
Your body sprang into action despite the thoughts swirling around in your head, despite the burn spreading out from your neck. You sprinted out of the gate, running like hell for the woods to avoid being shot. You were winded by the time you reached the woods. Your activity had been very limited since they took you.
Fear wouldn't allow you to look back. You paused for a beat to catch your breath and then you began wandering the woods. Something told you the offer was too good to be true, that you wouldn't be allowed to just wander out of the woods to freedom. But if there was any chance you could find a way to free yourself...
You scanned the area around you wildly at first. Did you know this place? Was it close to home?
You made your way through the woods, but nothing looked familiar. As the line of trees where you'd entered the forest got farther away, you came to realize how dense and deep these woods were.
You weren't watching where you were going and collided hard with someone. Your heart flew as you stared at another captive from the facility where you'd been kept. Her eyes were wide in alarm.
"Watch it!" she hissed.
"Sorry."
When you started to go about your way, she grabbed you by the sleeve and hauled you back with her behind a huge tree trunk. You looked at her in question.
"They are hunting us," she whispered loud enough for you to hear. "Don't you get it?"
Hunting?
"What?" you mouthed.
She leaned close, getting in your ear. "There are alphas hunting us," she said. "It's just a game to them."
You stared at her in horror as you moved back. You didn't miss the perspiration on her brow, her labored breathing. Her scent was strong around both of you. Climbing warmth spread out from your neck to the rest of you. Now that you'd paused, you became aware of it. Your fear escalated as your hand flew up to cover where he'd shot you.
"What did they give us?" you asked.
The other omega glared. "What do you think?"
With horror, you realized what they'd done.
"My heat is coming on fast," she said. "Yours will too. If we stay together, the scents will be too concentrated. They'll find us easily."
You knew she was right, but your heart sank. You'd just found someone else in your situation. It would have been nice to work together, find a way out of the woods.
If you ever did. If you even could.
"Go!" she said, and you started moving.
Even though it was a cool autumn day, you were hot and it was getting worse. Your mind spun as you tried to move quickly but quietly. How many of you were they sending out? How many alphas were looking for the lot of you? What was going to happen?
You struggled to breathe through your nose, to watch where you stepped. There was a chance you'd make it out, right? Could you survive this without being found by some arrogant American alpha? You needed to keep track of your direction. Glancing up in desperation, you were looking for the position of the sun through the canopy of trees.
And that's when you spotted him.
The man perched high up in a tree, dressed in black tactical gear like the soldiers at the facility except one of his sleeves was shiny, threaded with gold. Is that how the alphas are dressed? Brown hair that just touched his shoulders framed his face.The bottom half of that face was concealed by a black mask and steely blue eyes watched you intently above it. Crouching in the tree, you couldn't tell how big he was. You hoped he wasn't fast.
You sprinted away, racing through the forest as fast you could and praying you wouldn't trip and fall. You heard him hit the ground hard. Your heart threatened to beat its way out of your chest as you just kept going, hoping he hurt himself in the fall.
The heavy sounds of his footfalls came up behind you fast. A strong arm grabbed the back of your sweatshirt and swung you around. You were shoved back against a tree hard, knocking the wind from your lungs. The edge of your vision faded to black to see the man in front of you, his blue eyes lit up in determination. He held you to the tree by your neck. When you tried to pry his hand off, you found it was unnaturally hard. It wasn't a shiny sleeve. It was a metal arm.
The man plucked the black mask off his face, dropping it to the ground as he leaned in and pressed his face into your scent glands. He took another whiff of you as you trembled in his grasp. His own scent invaded your senses: deep plum, leather, and winter forest. The scent of him pushed the growing flames burning inside you higher, your thighs clenched together, and moisture flooded your panties. Was it the chemical they gave you to provoke a heat cycle? Would you have reacted to him anyway?
Even so, he was a head taller than you with wide shoulders and long muscular limbs. His intent gaze burned into you as he held you there, struggling in his grip. You jerked as his flesh hand grabbed the waist of your jeans, plucking them open before sliding down into your panties. Your range of movement was limited as he held you by the neck against the tree. No matter how much you twisted and squirmed, you couldn't keep his seeking fingers from sliding through your heated folds on all the slick your body was producing. The slight smile that curved his mouth filled you with dread as he pulled his hand free of your denim.
All you could do was stare when he brought those fingers up to his mouth, his lips and tongue cleaning them. His low hum was a deep sound that you felt in every inch of your body. Some dark intent lit up those dark blue eyes as he focused on you.
But he wasn't saying anything.
In a flash, he threw you over his right shoulder, held in place with his flesh hand. He started moving and your stomach lurched as the woods flew past you at an unnatural speed. Your hands clutched the back of his jacket, the black leather cold under your fingers. You spotted another girl from your confinement, running from another alpha. The omega who told you what happened was further into the woods on her hands and knees, being fucked from behind by the alpha who caught her.
Adrenaline spiked your growing fear. You didn't even try to fight the beast of a man who had you. What was wrong with you?
Planting your hands on his back, you pushed off hard and fast. It worked because you surprised him, landing on the ground with a thump behind him. Pain seared your knees and elbows as you scrambled up. Now if you could be fast enough in getting away.
You dashed off, screaming when another man darted out from behind a tree and caught you in his arms. The one who held you wasn't as tall as the other man, but you could feel the muscular wall of his chest under your fingers as he held onto you. Unlike the first one, he wore a deep burgundy sweater and jeans like he was just walking through the woods. His scent was an intoxicating blend of ash, iron, and molten lava. You fought to breathe, unable to prevent yourself from pressing your face into his neck and taking a deep breath of the alpha's essence.
"Thank you, Barnes," he said, his hold on you tightening. "I'll see you back at the cabin."
Planting your hands on that chest, you tried to push back, to free yourself. This alpha with his perfectly coiffed dark hair, goatee, and deep hazel eyes chuckled as he held onto you with ease.
"Feisty," he said, startling you when he fastened a heavy metal device around your wrists with a speed that was scary. "I like it."
"No." The man behind you growled the word. You felt the heat of him behind you, his scent invaded your senses and went to your head. "She's mine."
The other alpha stiffened against you.
"Ah, no," he said confidently. "She's the one I picked out. I showed you, remember? I realize you're on the edge of a rut, buddy. But this one is mine. Go find your own."
Barnes' low growl sent a spike of fear through you. Would he accept that?
To you, the alpha who cuffed you said, "Start walking. You get more than three feet away from me and those cuffs are going to get very uncomfortable."
What?
You sped up, trying to dash away. Electric pulses sent searing pain up your arms. The pain was so acute, it took your breath away. It momentarily overpowered the biological process they'd artificially induced in you. And that was saying something.
Grabbing your elbow, he urged you to walk along next to him, in no particular hurry. A smirk formed on his handsome face as he pulled you along in the forest. You were afraid of what it might mean. You were so overwhelmed by everything, you cooperated. You didn't want to feel the pain again.
And Barnes couldn’t take you away from him without causing you a lot of pain. He wouldn’t, would he?
The lewd sounds of coupling were all around you, a macabre symphony of domination that pushed your fears higher. They were also making the powerful craving building in your body so much worse. The slick soaked your panties, your jeans, clinging to you in a sticky mess. Your core was aching, and your thighs were starting to tremble. You hadn't been given bras and the scrape of your sweatshirt against your tight nipples was impossible to ignore.
The one he'd called Barnes wasn't trying to stop you. Was he still back there? Had he gone to find another omega? It was hard to tell over the sounds of coupling and hard to focus on with waves of heat and need pulsing through your body.
As your heart raced and your breath came faster, you saw the edge of the forest ahead. He'd mentioned a cabin to Barnes. Did that mean he didn't intend to claim you in the woods? If you were now going to belong to this alpha, was he sparing you at least that indignation?
A few feet from the break in the trees, the alpha stopped you. Walking around in front of you, his gaze on your plucked-open jeans. His smile widened.
"This will make him insane," he said, reaching in and gripping your panties. They were so wet there wasn't even a rending sound as he ripped them from you, pulling them free of your jeans. Humiliation had you dropping your gaze as he brought them up to his nose. "Fucking perfect."
Why did he want to make Barnes insane?
A low whine escaped you as your pussy lips absorbed the pain of that extraction. Craving more. The alpha's expression held a touch of sympathy.
"Not much farther," he said, dropping your underwear to the forest floor. He's leaving them for the other alpha? Why? A display of dominance? "We'll take good care of you. I promise."
It wasn't lost on you that he said we.
When you emerged from the woods, at a different point than you'd entered them, you saw more armed soldiers. Another drove up in an open black cart, nodding to the alpha as he pulled you toward it.
"Everything has been arranged, Mr. Stark,"
"Thank you," he muttered.
Helping you in first, he climbed into the driver's seat, and off you went. It was a short drive until you reached what looked like an expensive resort. Yes, all the buildings were styled as rustic log cabins. But as you got closer, you saw that they were upscale and luxurious with huge shimmering windows and other fancy architectural touches that would have been expensive. If you hadn't been cramping so badly, you might have appreciated the sprawling resort.
As it was, you were in a lot of discomfort bordering on pain. By the time he pulled into the garage of the largest cabin you would see, you were shaking. The heat they'd forced on you made you desperate. The scent of him next to you had your mouth watering. You were ready to crawl into the alpha's lap even as your mind was screaming at you to fight and resist.
Reaching over, he freed you from the cuffs. His fingers felt so good as they soothed the flesh marked by the metal. His heated gaze was intent on you.
"They dosed you good, didn't they? Have you ever been through a heat before?" he asked.
“Alone,” you said, tears gathering. Frustration burned your body while your mind was spinning.
“I’m Tony. And I know you don’t think so right now,” he told you, “but you will have a good life with me. Our cubs will have a good life. You won’t want for anything.”
Dropping your head, steeling yourself against the ache, you managed to mutter, “freedom.”
“Freedom?” Tony said, his chuckle was a deep, rich sound. “You haven’t even experienced freedom yet. But you will.”
With impressive speed, he dashed around the cart and scooped you out, carrying you bridal style into the luxurious cabin. Your face pressed into his neck, breathing him in. The heat and strength of him were compelling, had you grinding your thighs together in agony.
The huge bedroom was warm, cozy. The fireplace next to the bed held a bright flame adding its glow to the soft lighting. The bedding looked sumptuous and soft. The extra blankets neatly folded on the bed had your mind spinning, wishing you’d had time in advance to work with those blankets. Get everything just right.
A cart on the other side of the bed, loaded with food. There was a basket of fruit and a small stack of protein bars. There were sweets too with cookies and pastries. The small cooler next to it was filled with ice, bottles of water.
Tony was careful in placing you on the huge bed. Smoothing a hand over your cheek, his eyes were kind. But there was something… some mischief. What was happening? He’d went to all the trouble to pluck you out of the forest.
A quick glance around the room and he sighed. “I think we’re all set.”
You were panting, a hand down in your jeans. You were burning alive from the inside and your desperate fingers on your clit couldn’t bring you relief. Your tears were bitter. Your life was being stolen by an obviously wealthy American alpha. You’d been thrown into heat against your will. Heat swallowed you. Your throat was parched.
Were you even going to survive this?
“Let’s make you more comfortable,” Tony purred, grabbing the hem of your sweatshirt and pulling it over your head. His gaze roamed over your breasts, his smile widening. He lifted a hand, barely touching one tight nipple with his fingertips.
That simple touch pulled a desperate whine from you.
“It’s okay.” That hand slid down over your ribs and darted into your jeans. When his fingers pushed in around yours and found your clit, you thought you were going to explode. You froze, taking in the delicate way he was tracing circles around that tiny bundle of nerves at your center. His lips chained kisses along your neck, the light scratch of his beard made you shiver. “You really are perfect.”
Tony moved to push your jeans down and you were frantic to help him, managing to shed the shoes and socks you wore too. His hands skimmed over your thighs as you did, the rough pads of his fingers making your crazy and surprising you all at once. Why would a wealthy alpha has rough hands?
When you were fully revealed to him, he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into him for a kiss. Every part of your body was on fire, aching. It didn’t speed him up. He took his time, claiming your mouth with a seeking kiss. He enticed you, tasted your lips. When he eased back, you just stared.
“What are you doing?” Your voice sounded desperate to your own ears.
Tony chuckled. “In a weird way, I’m reinstating Prima Nocta.”
You had no idea what that meant, and you didn’t care. Taking you in his arms, he took both of you further up the bed, into the small mountain of pillows at the top. His lips blazed a path over your jaw, down to your chest. When his mouth closed around one of your nipples, it was all you could do not to scream. You choked it back, losing your mind as the tip of his tongue danced around that tight little peak.
“Don’t hold back,” he whispered around it. “I want to hear you.”
You gasped as he moved down your body, his mouth cleaning the slick from the tender flesh of your inner thighs. Your hands shook as your fingers sank into his hair. You parted your legs for him, closer now to getting the relief you needed. When he got his mouth on you, you screamed long and loud. While his tongue strummed your clit with precision when it wasn’t exploring your folds, you were howling wantonly in the quiet of the cabin.
You begged for relief, pleaded for more. The alpha held you open for him easily, humming into your flesh until you thought you’d blow apart. You came the first time just from that vibration. Tony brought you off the second time on his tongue.
Tony lifted from you, pulling the sweater he wore off and revealing a dazzling display of muscles. But there were so many scars, including a nasty looking one right at the center of his chest. You were about to reach out and trace it with a finger, but he caught your chin in his hand and made you meet his gaze.
“Present for me,” he said. Not an order but a sensual request.
And you scrambled to get on all fours for him, facing the pile of pillows at the end of the bed. Tony’s hand caressed your ass, and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
“Let’s turn you around,” he whispered.
Whatever you want. You turned to face the huge picture window at the other end of the huge room. The sun was setting and smearing the sky in vivid red and orange, almost dark. You dropped down to your elbows, whining a little as you did to let him know you were still in need. The two orgasms you already had took the edge off, but everything still hurt.
You’d had a couple of lovers, betas, who you’d been happy with for a time. They’d been good lovers. You’d never been with an alpha. Tony slid easily into your weeping entrance. But the size of him… You gasped as he reached the end of you, your walls trembling to stretch around him. You wondered how it would feel when you weren’t in heat.
At the moment, it was bliss. His hands gripped your hips tightly and he began to move in you, knowing what you needed. His cock pounded into you once he established a rhythm, making you fight to stay in place for him. Your slick walls tried in vain to grip him, the slide tightening the grip lust had on you, spinning your senses.
The first howl you heard was on the edge of your awareness. It might have been Tony. It could have been you. But as Tony fucked you, the heat and lust consumed you. Your fingers clawed at the lavish bedding beneath you while your body craved more. Your heart slammed in your chest, in time with his powerful thrusts. You were panting, whining. By the time you were coming again, sensation overwhelmed you, coursing through your veins.
You dropped your head, a slave to your biology as Tony worked you from behind. You braced for him to reach his release, to knot you.
Yet, even in your chaotic state, you noticed he wasn’t in a frenzy as you were. Tony’s movements and breathing were controlled. His grip was firm but not demanding. While the string of orgasms helped quench the out-of-control flames of your heat, he wasn’t as desperate as you were.
Did he find you lacking? If you didn’t satisfy him, would you be sent back to the woods? The facility where you’d been kept for weeks?
Would they let you live?
Grabbing your hair, Tony pulled your head back up and holding you there. The move put the picture window in your view. The sun was sinking beneath the horizon and its dying rays offered enough light to see his shadow outside the window.
You saw the silhouette of the first alpha who caught you and it both terrified and excited you.
When his metal hand struck the window, cracking the glass beneath his fist, you came hard.
“Fuck yeah,” Tony growled behind you.
The world spun for you and Tony released your hair. His grip on your hips was iron-hard, almost hurt. Tony doubled down then, coming inside you as the echoes of your release went on and on until everything went black.
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#Scenting Their Prey#A/B/O#Tony Stark#Bucky Barnes#Alpha!Tony Stark#Alpha!Bucky Barnes#Omega!Reader#Soft/dark fic
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Thunderstorms and Rainbows
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 1.8K
Warnings: Mentions of insomnia, Bucky adjusting to the real world, hurt/comfort, but still lots of happiness
A/n: This is my entry into my wonderful friend DJ's @ramp-it-up I love you 3000 Writing Challenge! I'm so so happy for you, you really deserve it and I think you're absolutely killing it! I hope you like this...
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist
Without a doubt, Bucky’s biggest battle in adjusting to normal life was thunderstorms.
You’d noticed a big improvement on so many other triggers since you’d moved in together, the nightmares came less often these days. You’d managed to get him comfortable enough to sleep in an actual bed.
With you there to guide him, he had managed to find the calm in the eye of the hurricane.
But there was something so scarily special about thunderstorms. The bright flashes lighting up the dark sky activated a deep fear, it brought things to the surface that he just wasn’t ready to deal with.
The electric charges surged through his body, taking hold of his body like a prisoner. He felt the cold, reinforced metal wrap around his wrists, he was locked into the experimentation chair.
He was strong enough to break free, but the punishment for falling out of line was somehow always worse than the toture.
He detested the way the thunder clapped angrily over the building, like the impending thud of his torturers footsteps growing louder and louder.
The heavens and earth were moving aggressively, surrounding him and changing. He had no control.
You once loved thunderstorms, you would wake up in the middle of the night just to watch the way it would like up the city so beautifully. Over time you’d grown to fear them just as much as Bucky did.
You hated the way they affected him. It broke your heart to see him huddle into the darkest corner of the room, clawing at the walls to get away from all the windows.
Over the past few months you’d been channelling your energy into making the whole ordeal easier.
You tried singing to him, soothing him into a soft sleep until the thunder sang over you and drowned you out completely.
You started stocking up on any board game you could get your hands on when you were out in the city. And when the first flash of lightning shot through your apartment you were setting up something on the bed.
You’d been pretty close to keeping him distracted with scrabble, but monopoly had been a total bust. The game had dragged on for way too long, Bucky was on edge from the impending thunder and he had not enjoyed losing to you. If anything that had only made things worse.
You’d given up on board games after that night, it was more of a hindrance, but at least you were well stocked for game night with the team.
More recently, you’d been recounting some of your favourite memories, embellishing them with a little sparkle to make them more fun. It seemed to be working the best, so far.
Tonight as the sky started to sing its tumultuous symphony, Bucky was completely alone in the apartment.
His brain screamed at him, he couldn’t do this. He was spiralling and only a few seconds from running to his favourite hiding spot.
He rolled onto his front shakily, stuffing his head under his pillows, pulling the duvet up to where his head should’ve been. He wanted, no needed, to block everything out for just a few seconds so he could work out what to do next.
Despite his best efforts to drown out his biggest enemy, thunder still steam rolled through the bedroom, threatening to attack him.
He longed to feel the warmth of your body against his, for you wrap your arms around him protectively and soothe him with the delicate tone of your voice.
But with a heavy heart, he accepted that that wasn’t going to happen. No amount of wishing for it would bring you home, you were on a mission with Kate and Yelena. He had to deal with this one on his own.
He poked his head out from under the pillow, watching the rain thrash against the window angrily, but there was no sign of the thunder and lightning. A thin layer of silence had settled over the bedroom, it wouldn’t last forever but he had his moment.
He stretched his vibranium fingertips out beside him, hands grabbing for the fluffy teddy bear sleeping soundly on your side of the bed.
Carefully, as though not to wake the storm from its temporary slumber, he flipped onto his back. He held your teddy to his nose, inhaling the mixture of sleep and perfume that lingered in its fluff.
The scent slowed the erratic beat of his heart, his eyes fluttered shut dreamily, he missed you so much. The comfort was too short lived, another bright wave of light rippled through the city, its rumbling friend following behind closely.
“I’m going to be okay.” He whispered to himself, his lips trembling softly. He clung to the teddy bear as if his life depended on it. They would get through this treacherous night together.
His mind was clouded just like the sky outside, Bucky searched for images of you hidden in the mess. Thunder crashed against the window pane, shocking the thoughts right out of his mind.
Despite the panic surging through his mind and letting out a slow breath, his lips quivered unevenly. He pulled the covers up over his head, just like he used to when he was scared as a kid. He rested the teddy bear on his shoulder, fingertips still clinging to the fluff.
He thought back to the last story you’d been telling, he could never forget the day. It was his favourite memory.
You had been wearing…
Lighting landed on the antenna of the building, striking the walls with a ferocious charge of light. The thunder hit before he had the chance to recover, shaking the red bricks, pounding against the foundations.
Bucky felt his lungs collapsing in on themselves, he gasped harshly. The weight of the world sat firmly on his chest, unmoving.
“Br-breath-e-e…” He stuttered, tears welled in his eyes. “You can do this.”
He imagined you in the pretty yellow sundress, the one with a long flowy skirt and small pink flowers on it. You look beautiful in everything you wear, but this dress was something else. You looked like a princess.
He remembered what he’d been wearing that day too, it wasn’t a hard guess. He wore black jeans and his blue henley.
It was the second time he’d ventured out into the outside without his gloves on, it was too hot for it anyway. Although it had terrified him at the time, you made him feel safe enough to get past the staring.
Outside a fresh wave hit, thunder growled at the world, threatening to crack the sky in half. It pulled Bucky from his imagination, shocking him back into reality.
He sighed loudly, curling his body up, your teddy bear snuggled deeply into his chest. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.” He muttered quietly.
His pleas were answered, the rain poured from the grim clouds but nothing more.
He moved back to his memory, thinking about how determined you were to have a picnic in the park. You’d packed in the cute wicker basket, the one that definitely belonged in a disney movie.
You batted your eyelashes at him in the most adorable fashion and asked him to carry the blanket. It was a hundred degrees outside and I was the crazy guy on the subway with a fluffy blanket.
We went to your favourite spot in the park right by the bridge. It gave them the perfect view of all the tourists and boats passing by, but you and he went undisturbed, hidden underneath the big trees.
Everything was so close to the two of you and yet it sounded so distant, it was just the way Bucky liked it.
You both spent the day there, eating from a selection of handmade sandwiches, chocolate covered strawberries and a bottle of fizzy wine.
You had managed to read a few chapters of Persuasion to him, before you were overcome with the need to explain why Jane Austen was your favourite author. He’d heard the speech at least a thousand times, but he never got bored of listening to it.
He’d listen to it on repeat for the rest of his life if you asked him to, just as long as he got to see the way your eyes lit up passionately as you spoke.
This time when the thunder echoed through the empty rooms, Bucky heard it from a distance. The memory had surrounded him like a forcefield of safety.
He knew the storm still raged on outside, but he kept the image of you in the centre of his mind.
The sun had beamed down on the city that day, but a few grey clouds rolled in over the sky, battling to cover the shining sun.
The rain came pouring down at lightning speed, but the sun soaked leaves protected you and him.
Bucky remembered the smile on your face, that wide childish grin. He could read your mind, you didn’t want to stay dry. Your bright eyes sang mischievously as you tugged him up from the ground.
You looked at him and rolled your eyes when he made no effort to move. You told him, “If he didn’t dance with you in the rain, it wouldn’t matter. You’d just go and dance alone.”
He felt you break down a new barrier deep within him, he watched as you let yourself go and he longed to follow you. He was done holding back.
Bucky followed after you, running through the wet grass as the rain carried him to you. You and he were the only two people running towards the rain, instead of looking for cover.
He wrapped you in his arms, twirling you round in the air. For once he didn’t care. You swayed in his arms to the beat of your imaginary song, the soft pitter patter of the rain kept you in time.
The sun shone over your heads, but the rain grew stronger, glittering through the thick air. Your eyes trailed up to the sky and you gasped loudly.
“Double rainbow!!” You pointed excitedly, glee pouring from your features. Bucky followed your index finger, mirroring your happiness.
He cupped your face gently, kissing your lips passionately, raindrops mingled together on your cold cheeks.
“Marry Me.” Bucky whispered into the bedroom as his consciousness slipped and his body fell limp, your teddy bear nestled into him. He hadn’t said those words that day, but he’d thought it.
It was that day that made him certain he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, that he loved you more than anything. He just hadn’t been able to find the right time to ask yet.
But all of those thoughts could wait till tomorrow. The next clap of thunder thumbed angrily against the walls, but Bucky laid peacefully. His chest rose and fell steadily.
He was sound asleep.
Tags: @theselilwonders @elemenhoepe @delaber @ramp-it-up @nikole-witha-k @mistressmkay @@maladaptivexxdaydreaming @im-a-marvel-ous-hoe @@aquariusbarnes @ysmmsy @anxiousgirlsarehotter @snugglingbucky @give-me-bucky @natbarnes1917 @pandaxnienke @jobean12-blog @late-to-the-party-81
#Bucky barnes#Sebastian Stan#bucky barnes x you#Bucky Barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#summerofsnowflakesfic
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David Farland’s Writing Tips—Giving Readers Hope
Nearly every novel shows a character with a big conflict. Sometimes conflicts are so vast that the tale is overwhelming.
But readers must somehow muddle through those tough times, and what is going on in the reader’s life will affect how much they can handle in a novel. Is your reader’s mother dying from cancer? Did they put a beloved pet down this week? Is the reader out of a job? Those kinds of losses can make reading the dark passages of a novel difficult.
I saw a good illustration of this a few years ago. A woman who had gone through a divorce wrote a beautiful passage about the challenges her character was facing as she was dumped by her husband. Many of the class members loved it and found it so affecting that they broke into spontaneous applause—but two of the women were so devastated by the passage that they fled the room in tears. Both women had recently been through divorces.
Obviously, as writers we want to touch our readers deeply. We want to hold them through our books, even during the dark passages. How can we do this? Here are a few thoughts…
Heroism is a family trait. In ancient Greek theater, to be a hero you had to have heroic parents. In other words, the royals had trained the peasants properly by saying, “Not just anyone can do this.” But the trick still works today. This was handled nicely in J.J. Abram’s 2009 movie “Star Trek”. When a young Captain Kirk has his ship attacked by an angry Romulan, he heroically fights off his attackers just long enough so that his young wife and child can escape the ship, and then our hero gets blown up. Of course, the baby—James T. Kirk—is the one who returns and avenges the father some 25 years later.
Sure, the formula may be 3000 years old, but it still works.
The secret power. Does your character have a unique ability—Zorro’s mastery of swordplay, young Sheldon’s sharp wit, or Rocky Balboa’s ability to take a blow? Show it early in your story, and that will give the reader hope.
Borrowed glory. When young King Henry’s troops despair in Shakespeare’s “King Henry V,” he rouses them with a classic speech. Similarly, when Frodo Baggins is unable to go on seeking the Crack of Doom, his friend Sam Gamgee offers more private support.
If you have a character who must struggle, perhaps you can give them a support system—a father, mother, lover, friend, teacher, or priest—who provides an example of how to hold on to hope in dark times. Even teachings from the Bible, Muhammad, or some other source can help.
The early win. Your character is allowed to have victories, and even the smallest victory may signal hope. Let’s say you’ve got a character who is struggling to find a killer, but is coming up stumped. On a side note, for month’s she’s been trying to figure out how a mouse has been getting into her kitchen—and suddenly she discovers a tiny hole under the sink. Yeah, the mouse problem isn’t going to help her dodge bullets, but it does show that she has a fine mind and potential.
Light in dark times. Many heroes cling to a hope or a dream throughout their entire story. Maybe they dream of someday owning a fishing boat or a restaurant, but often hope comes in the form of “fairy gifts,” any gift given in dark times.
Lady Galadriel gave Frodo a vial of starlight to help him through dark times, for example. This “fairy gift” is very important in fantasy literature. It’s often an object—a sword, a ring, or other item that gives its wielder a bit of help. But I like Frodo’s light. He doesn’t pull it out and look at it often, but in a sense he does. Just before he travels into Mordor, he looks up and sees a star shining above the darkness. That moment of hope is one highpoint in the novel.
We see similar scenes over and over in Lord of the Rings as the hobbits meet up with unexpected friends or have a quiet meal. Each of those reinvigorates their spirit.
Indeed, there is one scene in the Two Towers where Gollum argues with himself about whether or not he should strangle the “nice hobbits” and take the ring—a scene where even an enemy shows the potential to become a friend.
But a fairy gift can be anything. It might be a $100 bill that dad gave his daughter before he was killed in a car wreck, and she saves it as much for sentimental value as something to help in an emergency. It might be a gun that is loaned to a character, or a telephone number for a powerful lawyer.
As authors, we need to try to figure out just how much darkness our readers can handle, and when it is called for, offer a bit of hope.
Of course, you’ll never get a perfect balance. You’ll always be too heart-wrenching for some readers and too much of a Pollyanna for others. I’m convinced that this is the sole reason that no one book can satisfy all readers.
For more on David Farland's Writing tips, visit https://mystorydoctor.com/writing-blog/
And you can also click here to get your David Farland Daily Meditations.
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The Type Of Wife Chris Mclean Likes/Couple
I just had this in my head for some time I can see Chris Mclean wanting a girl to rely on him he loves being in control he loves it that's Chris Mclean for you thank you for those have been liking these or sharing I just do these for fun.
The Little Girl Wife
+ Chris Mclean loves a woman that needs him and do what he wants.
+ Chris Mclean absolutely likes when his wife can't do much of anything on her own without him he loves having power and to get what he wants.
+ Chris Mclean loves when she is able to love him for him it helps his ego.
+ Chris Mclean has many interests so he gets all excited when she has the same values in common with him.
+ Chris Mclean is ambitious man and wants the best so she has to be goal oriented and reach for the stars with Chris Mclean because there famous.
+ So if Chris Mclean wants or ask for something she does it no questions asked she gives him massages, cook's for him, help him with work, gives him coffee and hot chocolate, participates in Chris Mclean's mayhem and more.
+ So marriage isn’t always glamorous but Chris Mclean likes how she puts up with his quirks without complaint that's when he know's she’s probably the one this means she won’t make a big deal out of out of his annoying traits or imperfections which this makes him happy he likes it that way.
+ O Chris Mclean will be giving her the sexy eyes if she compliments him in his appearance he loves attention he eats that up.
+ When she views Chris Mclean as an equal he loves it because a marriage is a lifelong partnership in which both partners, opinions, preferences feelings, and abilities are considered.
+ When she is just as committed to being there as Chris Mclean In sickness and in health he absolutely get excited and happy because he has someone to spend time and has someone's life with him and will be with him in times of sickness he will commitment during difficult times he wants someone to be loyal to him be because he had certain people in his life cause drama and he had trauma in his life he can be moody at times that's why wants a strong partner so she better be equally committed to him and expects his well being and should work together with him and to support him through challenges.
+ Chris Mclean loves when she believes in his dreams in the show and his ideas for things and won’t ask him to give up on his dreams and wants him to achieve them even if he does questionable things.
+ Now his career is important to him he's obsessed with it she will support his career goals just as he does much for her on her own because he wants her and him to be successful a team.
+ She will try show interest in the hobbies and what he likes Chris Mclean does that are important to him like he loves writeing, tanning in his tanning bed named the Tan O Matic 3000, tomato juice his second favorite drink is hot chocolate, practicing his German, and cars and certain things might not be her favorite thing but she will at least attempt to learn more about it or take an interest when he talks about it.
+ She physically affectionate when Chris Mclean wants it whether in the form of hugging, kissing, or cuddling.
+ She is willing to try new things in the bedroom with Chris Mclean when he's in the mood she is open to experimenting with Chris Mclean and let him take control because yes he's the dominant one.
+ Chris Mclean loves this dynamic when she needs him because it appeals to his desire to be the leader and the provider he can feel reinforced by having someone who values his skills.
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Duuuuude! You are so incredibly talented. May I ask, how do you make your graphics? Everytime I see one, they look fucking amazing. What program/s do you use? And how hard are they to learn?
nonnie! you are coming for my heart like this! 🥹😭
of course you can ask! I am always willing to help out anyone creatively where I can.
this is quite a spill so I have the explanation underneath the cut! 🥰
I use 2 programs, and it depends what for -
my gifs, headers, icons, and dividers I use adobe photoshop.
my collages for my writing social media and my wattpad, I use canva.
I want to give credit where it is due and say I learnt how to make gifs and graphics from my best friend, @sgt-seabass.
she took me under her wing and from there she's taught me how to operate photoshop and make the gifs like I do, and since then, I branched out and fucked around with the program and that's how I got where I am.
as for how hard it is to learn, personally, it is not hard at all.
gif making can be challenging but I also don't have so much of an affiliation for them, and I like keeping them simple.
header, banner, and divider making is my bread and butter. I fucking love making them and I just... I don't know. I love doing it so much, and I guess my passion shows.
the most important thing to making graphics look seamless and effortless is familiarity with the program you use, because if you don't know your tools, you don't know shit, basically. I would really recommend getting to know the software you choose to use - play around and make some dummy designs and make mistakes. making mistakes has helped immensely in my creative process.
learn the dimensions for posts and pixels, too. it can be different for all blogs!
I use the following for my blog: (all in pixel measurement)
line dividers - 600 x 5
thin dividers - 600 x 15
thick dividers - 600 x 25
headers - 3000 x 1000
the squares for these headers are 1000 x 1000
blog header - 640 x 360
even when transparent, like the two I use, they are still the above dimensions.
disclaimer banner - 2000 x 300 (the bigger the canvas, the better the transparent elements show)
if you have any other questions, my love, my inbox is always open! 💗
honestly, I would be open to doing tutorials when I have some spare time between these events - would that be something that's helpful? lemme know, chaos kittens! 😘
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