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#it's been going uphill for me ever since

cemeterything · 5 months

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i think lots of people who were bullied, mistreated, or ostracized growing up get pretty maladaptive about it as adults........ i see so many people on social media who seem think that what they went through was only bad because THEY didn't deserve it, and if THEY had the social capitol, THEY would've hurt people who DID deserve it, instead. i think having all that anger and pain in their hearts makes it hard to imagine a world without the violence they went through, so they fantasize about redirecting it "positively" rather than striving for a world where no one hurts like they did. i think it's a testament to your character that you went the opposite way, but i'm unfortunately not surprised some people have a kneejerk response to you taking accountability for your own behavior & refusing to continue the cycle of violence, since it doesn't square with their own ideas of victimhood. thanks for saying everything you have on this situation and being an all around kind, positive presence on my dashboard <3

no i completely agree, because for a time i WAS one of those people. i was so miserable and bitter about my own pain that i was jealous of everyone around me and perceived other people enjoying their own lives as a personal attack, and punched down out of fear of being knocked back down to the very bottom of the social ladder after i'd just managed to climb out of there myself. fortunately i've always had a personal principle that i can't expect anyone to do anything i'm not willing to do myself, so recognition of my own hypocrisy knocked me back on track pretty quickly when i realised that i could hardly expect anyone to ever extend any compassion or sympathy to me if i wasn't going to make the same effort on my part. and i won't pretend it was easy, because when you've been traumatised for most of your life it is incredibly hard to have faith in anyone ever again, and open yourself up to the possibility of being hurt by lowering your defences enough to let other people get close. but trust me when i say that it's worth it. no matter how hard an uphill battle it is, it's worth every step. i'm a much happier, more successful, loved and confident person because i let myself move forward.

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happy74827 · 2 months

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hiii love your writing! recently obsessed w harvey specter fics! would you do a really sweet soft side harvey one? or maybe harvey gets jealous and they fight but it ends fluffy?

Valentine

[Harvey Specter x GN!Reader]

Synopsis: With Harvey by your side, even with all his quirks, you can’t help but love him.

WC: 765

Category: Mega Fluff

Since I already wrote an argument type of fic, I decided on making it just pure fluff and admiration. Did Laufey and my friend help me with inspiration? Yes, yes they did. Also, happy *extremely late* Valentine’s Day!

『••✎••』

He likes Jazz, but not the kind that everyone knows. He likes the soft stuff, the smooth stuff, the kind that slips into your brain and massages your neurons and makes you think about life. The soothing melodies and the sweet crooning of old-school vocalists are like a drug to him, something that he can't ever really get enough of. The music is so powerful to him that it's even been known to lull him to sleep a time or two.

It’s things like this, the little things you’ve learned over the years about Harvey, like his love for pot roast and how he only watches the Knicks when they’re guaranteed a win. He absolutely hates being handed things, always takes his steak medium rare, and has a special love for black licorice, which you will never understand. It all helps give him his personality his quirks, and you love him for all of them, even if you don't agree with all of his food choices.

Harvey isn’t vocal about his feelings, but that’s not a problem because you know him well enough to tell just how he feels. You know the difference between the smile that is just a smile and the one that reaches his eyes. You know the way that his face goes slack, and his gaze softens when he looks at you. When he’s chewing on a pen, a grin spreading slowly across his face, you know it's because of something you've said or done, and you can't help the swell of pride that accompanies it.

You also know when something is bothering him. There are little clues, but if you catch him rubbing his forehead, it means he's frustrated or stressed, and you can't help but be concerned for his health. When his brows are furrowed, a telltale sign of deep thought, you can't help but worry. It doesn't help that he has the tendency to internalize his worries, never wanting to burden others with his problems, a habit you're trying to get him out of.

The way his fingers dance over his desk, twirling the pen he's holding, means that he's nervous, and you can't help the urge to pull his hands into yours, hold them still, and tell him that everything will be alright.

There are certain things about Harvey that you will never understand, like why he prefers to stay late and work through the night than to go home early or why he insists on getting his suits tailored even though they look amazing on him straight off the rack. But what you do understand is him, the person.

It took time, and it was hard, but you managed to peel back the layers of Harvey Specter, one by one until you had him figured out. There's not a day that goes by that you're not grateful for the fact that you get to spend the rest of your life with him, and the feeling only grows with every day that passes.

You can't imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone else. Waking up in that sleepy daze to see his face next to yours and falling asleep at night wrapped in his arms is the most comfortable and the safest that you've ever felt. Every morning that you open your eyes and see him there, you can't help the smile that stretches your lips and the warmth that fills your chest. You can't help but feel blessed.

It's hard sometimes. You won't lie. There are days when you feel like you're fighting an uphill battle, but in the end, it's all worth it.

You can tell by the look in his eyes when you're lying next to him on the couch that he thinks you're worth the world, and his lips on yours make it feel like the fight is easier than it is.

He doesn’t say it much, but you know. You can feel it in the way he holds you, see it in the way he looks at you, hear it in his voice when he says your name, and you can even smell it on his skin when you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

It's there, in his touch, and that's more than enough for you. Suddenly, you understand what the old jazz greats meant when they sang about love because as long as Harvey is with you, the two of you can weather any storm.

He was your forever valentine, and as long as you're together, you can face the future without fear, and that's all the music you'll ever need.

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sunflowergraves · 1 year

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Unpacking Will Solace’s Character

I’ve seen a lot of Will Solace hate since TSATS and it’s really starting to bother me. As a person that relates heavily to Will’s character, it’s upsetting to see him get bashed across the internet, especially considering we’ve never actually gotten to know his character. Personally, I feel like a lot of people are basing his character around headcanons and fanfiction (which I am guilty of) and were disappointed when he wasn’t who we saw him as.

It doesn’t help that the only time we got to see Will’s POV it was short and through the eyes of others. He’s also not this big hero like all the characters in the PJO universe. His powers aren’t that strong, he’s not a prophecy child, and his talents are mediocre. Will is the most human demigod we’ve ever been introduced to. I can understand why his character doesn’t feel multi-dimensional compared to everyone else, but in my opinion, he was fleshed out very well.

Yes, there are a few things I was disappointed by. I wish they talked about Will’s past more and his grief over his dead siblings. I wanted him to have his own weapon, even if it was an old bow he never used or a lyre like Apollo used in TOA. But I will always love that they changed him from the calm, collected counselor healer to an anxious, depressed, self-doubting person because it fits him so well. How could he not feel these things after losing friends and family? After being abandoned by everyone around him? Or being forced to take on the caretaker role of the entire camp because he was the only one left?

I’m going to continue this down below, so if you don’t want major spoilers for TSATS, don’t continue reading. Also this is long as hell in case you just want to skim.

Every time Will was mentioned in the books, it was from someone else’s POV and it was a few lines at best.

Will has always been described as the cool, relaxed, go-with-the-flow type of guy. He was the person with a level head and knew exactly what to do. But guess what? Underneath that cool exterior was an anxiety riddled people pleaser who threw himself at every problem because that’s what he was told to do. The Apollo cabin was always the head medic team. After Lee and Michael died, Will was basically thrust into that position of power. He was trusted to take care of his younger siblings, trusted to take care of the entire camp. If he let them down, it was going to cost lives. Of course he’s going to be scared and nervous, but he can’t show that. Would you want a doctor with shaky hands and sweat running down their neck? Would you want to be taken care of by a person who doubted and second guessed themselves out in the open?

As someone who was given a lot of responsibly and forced to grow up at a young age, I completely understand this. You want to try to make everything better for others around you, you get scared when you fuck up, and you HATE when people can’t rely on you. That’s why you will never show how scared you are to fuck up. You will never let people get inside your head because if they can’t rely on you, what good are you? Breaking out of the role that everyone else gave you because they trusted you is scary and hard.

Nico is probably the only person who knows what Will really thinks. Will trusts Nico with his anxiety and overthinking because he’s comfortable enough around him to show that side. He knows he doesn’t have to Mr. Hero in front of Nico and that’s such a precious and important bond to make with someone.

Will was valid for being whiny and irritated for most of the book.

First, Will has ANXIETY. If you don’t know what it’s like to live with anxiety, count yourself lucky. It feels like your thoughts are attacking you constantly. It’s like an uphill battle between rational thought and absolute chaos. I can’t get in my car without thinking of all the ways I could die before I buckle my seatbelt. Imagine going to SuperHell for the first time in your life! Not only that, but people told Will constantly that as a child of Apollo he was basically fucked. The three strongest demigods that made it back almost went insane! Of course Will is going to be upset, irrational, irritated, and uncomfortable.

In TOA, he voiced several times how he thought it was a bad idea and that he really didn’t like it. This is not a new thing for Will’s character at all. For him to be willing to cross a line he had made concrete shows that he loves and cares for Nico. But that shouldn’t mean he isn’t allowed to be uncomfortable.

Second, for anyone saying he could have stayed at camp instead of going has never sacrificed their comfort for someone else. There are so many instances in my life where I went way out of my comfort zone because I knew my friends/family wanted me there. Did I complain? Hell yes. Did I still do it? Hell yes! If Will had said, “Nico, I can’t do this and I refuse to at least try,” I would have lost so much respect for his character. Instead he sucked it up, even when he was already practically dying before they got there.

Three, Will was worried about Nico. He’s never experienced Tartarus, he’s never been to the Underworld. While Will has definitely faced his share of demons, he’s never stood in Nico’s shoes. So when his boyfriend is having vivid nightmares and hearing voices, he’s going to try and rationalize it for Nico because that’s what he has done his entire life. Will is the “healer.” He is supposed to fix things, not let them traipse off to hell like it’s a vacation spot.

Four, this is a 15 year old. Fuck, even now at the ripe ole age of 20, I’d still be shaking in my boots terrified at the thought of going somewhere that is practically a jailhouse for the worst creatures in creation. Will has little to no experience on the field (He ran from six guards without even trying to pull out a weapon. The worst thing he’s ever said to his enemies was “anemic loser” and didn’t even want to kill Octavian. Every battle before that he had an older sibling to look up to and care for him). So yeah, I’d just be a tad bit nervous and annoying.

Will asking Persephone how to love someone from the Underworld was honest and raw.

This scene broke me in ways I can’t even describe because of how real it felt. If you’ve ever been in a deep and caring relationship (friendship counts) you should understand. Like Persephone said, love is something you choose and it’s complicated and messy even for people who were practically made for each other. For Will to ask how to love someone from the Underworld shows that he is actively choosing to understand and love Nico.

I get that most people interpret Will’s lines as “How do you love someone so filled with death?” but really he’s asking how do you love someone who acts like he doesn’t want to be loved? How do you love someone that pulls away from your light no matter how desperately you try to give it them? How do you love someone who hides parts of themselves from you?

Will is a healer, he fixes things. It’s not until this scene that Will realizes the only thing Will needs to fix is his perspective on Nico. That darkness and hurt and trauma is okay. It’s also a scene where Will realizes he doesn’t have to force down his own trauma anymore.

Will loves Nico and it’s so obvious he scared to lose him. He thinks he’s weak and broken and incapable of helping Nico escape his trauma. His insecurities shadow him and he’s confused about how to navigate this relationship because he thinks he needs to be the leader. How can he lead if Nico won’t let him? How can he help when he doesn’t know how? Persephone’s scene was Will’s chance of finding guidance from someone who could understand exactly what he’s thinking

People in their late 40′s still can’t get relationships down. Why are we pushing unrealistic relationship ideations on a 15 year old who doesn’t even know who he is yet?

Will was not useless.

Sorry that the relationship duo isn’t Mr. Badass and Mr. Badass 2.0. Will not being a fighter is refreshing to see because honestly I’m quite tired of seeing badass couples in every book/movie. Not everyone is strong and powerful and super awesome. Will is a nerd that likes healing people. Why isn’t that enough?

“He’s described as having muscles,” “He’s a field/combat medic,” “He fought in the wars,” “He carries people all the time,” “He trains with the Apollo cabin.” Okay and? I was raised to work hard and protect myself. I work out and I know how to use a bow and knife. Does that mean I want to? No.

I’d also like to point out that almost everyone in camp is described as having muscles. You kind of have to when your life motto is Try not to die or get eaten. Also they train on lava walls, jump eight foot pits, and weapons. I get a little bit of muscle going on my silly little walks, I’d be fucking jacked if I was actively training.

Second, Will has never once been described fighting monsters/demigods. I don’t doubt that he’s had a few encounters, but the boy practically specializes in RUNNING AWAY. He’s a feral little animal that finds injured demigods and sprints them away to the medic center while occasionally bashing monster heads in. He’s strong because he needs to be, not because he wants to be. Strength also doesn’t equal battle prowess.

Not to mention, he hates killing! He didn’t want to kill Octavian despite Octavian being the actual worst. He runs away as a distraction even though he had weapons on him. He got upset when Nico threw Sherman Yang out of the chariot in TOA. Monsters are different, but monsters are also scary. Will is terrified of demon pigeons, you really think he’s willingly gonna go one-on-one with anything bigger than his pinky?

I’ll admit, I hated that he didn’t have a weapon in Tartarus. I thought it was really stupid and out-of-character because my anxious ass would have loaded up. Still, it was kind of funny when they described Will bashing rocks over monster’s heads during their fight with Nyx.

My final point for this: Will was Nico’s support system and that was the point. Will knew he wasn’t going to throw hands with anyone. He went because he knew Nico needed him even when Nico told him to stay. Will was going to trek through SuperHell with the love of his life and hold his hand to remind him that he was loved. Will wanted Nico to know that he’d literally go to Hell and back for him and that’s what mattered.

Nico didn’t ask Will to be the Hero. Nico states several times that the reason he loves Will is because he wants to heal and he’s so stubborn to find the good in everything. And that’s exactly what Will did. He offered support, care, and reminders. He was going to understand and love Nico, even through the darkest parts of his life.

Will is one of the best support systems in a PJO couple duo.

It makes me incredibly sad to see people call Will toxic when he gave his entire life to support Nico. I won’t deny that he complained a lot and said hurtful things and that he occasionally belittles Nico’s feelings. But Will didn’t know he was doing those things. He thought he was helping Nico navigate his PTSD. How is someone who is still emotionally developing his own character supposed to know how to take care of someone else’s?

Will also clearly showed love and affection towards Nico. He met all his friends and was polite to them even when they looked scary. Will risked his life several times before they got to Tartarus and still insisted on continuing. Built a Minecraft house for his boyfriend and left him a KitKat bar because he knew he would feel fatigued (also Will brought KitKat bars, meaning he was already thinking of Nico’s health beforehand). He tried to be useful by scouting ahead because he felt like he was being a burden on Nico. He kissed him, called him silly nicknames, hugged him, respected his boundaries (asking to hold him instead of trying to comfort him immediately), and oh yeah, went to Tartarus when he was obviously quaking in his flipflops.

He also helped Bob when he had no idea who/what he was, comforted Nico when he was beginning to lose hope, acknowledged his mistakes and admitted he needed to try harder, realized he didn’t need to fix Nico and that his boyfriend was perfect the way he was, and learned that Nico wasn’t going to leave him.

Love is complicated. Love is something you choose. And Will chooses to love Nico. Also for everyone saying a year is long enough to learn/realize these problems already and have them solved, you need to take the rose tinted glasses off. I’ve been with my partner for almost four years, and I’m still learning things about our relationship. We argue, we don’t always meet eye-to-eye. Our own trauma and experiences surface and it gets difficult. But do we just call it quits and throw everything into the trash? No. We talk, we problem-solve, we come back and try to understand each other even if we don’t know how to do that. A year is nothing. A year is puppy love and excitement. It’s like your favorite movie on repeat. All the problems are ignored because you don’t want to see them yet.

So for a pair of 15 year old's who just came to terms with their sexuality, I think that they are doing pretty damn good at this love thing.

Anyway, that’s all I really wanted to say. Even though we’ve had Will for years, we’ve never gotten to know his true character until now. It’s raw and weird and doesn’t fit the mold of Will Solace, son of Apollo we all created him to be. You can still hate his character or whatever, I’m not going to try to change your mind. But don’t hate on everyone else who loves him and loves this book.

#solangelo #will solace #tsat #tsats #tsats spoilers #will literally deserves so much love #he's an anxious nerd who wants to watch star wars and kiss his boyfriend

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heavysoldat · 2 years

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it’s really you (on my mind)

best friend’s brother!bucky barnes x fem!reader

(gif by me)

inseparable since middle school, it was no surprise that you ended up falling for your long-time best friend. what was surprising, was who you actually ended up with at the end of the day.

warnings: SMUT (unprotected vaginal sex, blowjobs, face fucking, finger fucking, dirty talk, name-calling, slightly public sex, consent checks, breeding), angst, insecurities, language, very small age gap, hurt/comfort, a little cheesiness.

(this is highly inspired by something i watched a while ago, that i cannot remember for the life of me)

A two-week long vacation between two families can go one of two ways: completely fine and dandy, or a total fucking disaster mid-way through.

This one time, it’s not so perfectly black and white.

Your feet are covered in wet sand, sliding through your flip-flops and even found home in the bottoms of your bikini. It doesn’t help, how they drag along the hot pavement on your way back to the shared beach house.

The crash of the screen door hitting the wall is the last thing on your mind, shaking body making it harder to walk as you storm through the living room, hell-bent on landing upstairs with a crash land onto your temporary mattress. You’re practically dizzy with embarrassment, shame, anxiety and fear— feeling like you just swallowed an entire bottle of Adderall mixed with coffee.

Your own anxiety blinds you from your surroundings— so the sudden, jarring feeling of a hand stopping you via a grip on your wrist is enough to have you letting out a shriek.

“Hey! Hey!” Bucky calls, a lighthearted chuckle gracing his voice, “What’s the hurry?”

You’re breathing shallow and fast, heartbeat practically pounding in your chest; you’re crumbling in on yourself. You try to cover it up, try to calm yourself down, but the shakiness in your breathing and palms is enough to blow your cover.

“Noth-nothing,” You stutter, barely meeting his gaze. “I’m just- tired, and wet, I just wanna take a shower.”

He goes quiet, smile leaving his features. His eyes are scanning you, scanning you with a softness you rarely see from him. Always the cooler, more aloof, older guy— fresh out of college, hurdling closer towards his future than you’ve ever been. It’s rare; rare that he speaks like this, rare that his voice isn’t threaded with incessant teasing and sarcasm.

With one look down to your shaking hands, fiddling with each other nervously, he steps closer.

“Hey,” His voice is soft, “What’s goin’ on? You’re shaking.”

“Nothing.” You insist— but the tears threatening to spill from your eyes tell a different story.

Bucky grabs your trembling hands, holding them together, “Take a deep breath. Calm down.”

After staring down at his feet, lulling it over in your head, you let out a shaky, trembling breath. You continue, deep, in-and-out, until it’s smooth. Until it’s not withering in your lungs. Until it’s not an uphill battle.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Bucky asks, slowly letting go of your hands, letting them fall to your sides.

You watch as he leans back against the marble countertop, on the side next to the bar stools. You rub your right arm with your left hand, still trembling, but at least breathing.

“It’s- uhm,” You’re struggling to get past the wall of anxiety that’s flooding you. “I asked- I asked him out.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, staring at you with the prompt to elaborate.

“Beckett.”

His eyebrows raise in knowing. “Finally?”

“What?”

He laughs humorlessly, picking at the loose thread on his Baja hoodie. “I mean, I can’t say I didn’t see it coming? I honestly expected you to do it sooner.”

Your eyes grow sad, scared and wary.

“It wasn’t obvious, or anything,” Bucky retracts, hoping to calm you down, “At least, like, not to him. No offense to him, but... my little brothers fucking oblivious. Honestly.”

You hum in response, tugging on your bottom lip with your teeth.

“I’m assuming it didn’t go well?”

You shake your head.

“That’s... really surprising.” His voice raises in pitch, eyebrows going back up. “I mean, I- I always thought, he had a thing for you. I think we all thought it. That’s why, well, I-“

“Really?” You cut him off- tugging on your lip harder when he nods. He watches as your fingers grab onto the skin of your arm harder, pinching it between your fingers with unease.

“Do you want a hug?” Bucky asks, voice soft, eyes soft, but with uncertainty.

You nod, almost childlike, immediately melting when he pulls you into a tight embrace. The fabric of his jacket is enough to warm you, fingers folding into it to pull him tighter.

“I’m getting your jacket wet,” You mumble, muffled, head buried in his chest.

He blows a raspberry, mouth vibrating against your hair, “I don’t care.”

It’s the constant throbbing in your brain— the fear of you being you that keeps dragging you down. The fear that you weren’t good enough, weren’t hot enough, weren’t funny enough. It has you crying softly against his chest, rough sniffling muffling with the fabric.

After a few, long, heavy moments of you rotting against his chest, slightly calmed by the constant rubbing he’s providing to your arms, you finally manage to pull yourself away.

Rubbing a tear from your cheek, you gulp. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Hey, what?” His voice strains, “Don’t say shit like that. It’s not personal, I fuckin’ swear. You didn’t- you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s his own shit. That doesn’t mean you fucked up, or-or you’re fucked up.”

Your eyes continue to water, your wiped away tears still making your cheeks sticky and hot. You still can’t look at him, even when he’s holding you, even when he’s guiding you.

“Then why does it keep happening?” Your voice is barely there. Barely a whisper.

“What?”

You swallow, thick in your throat, sucking your bottom lip in behind your teeth.

“This- it’s the second time I,” You breathe, “I just keep getting turned away, rejected, I feel… I feel so fucking stupid.”

“You’re great. You’re... you’re fun, and you’re smart, and you’re- you’re hot.”

That has you scoffing. It’s not in disdain for him, not in anger— but in sorrow and pity for yourself. The frown on your face is bigger than your own eyes.

Sensing the tension, the anxiety, he asks: “Do you want to sit down?”

When you say yes, he guides you to the long, L-shaped couch in the corner of the room. Sitting down with you, letting enough space sit between you two so it’s not awkward— but not enough that he can’t comfort you.

“You’re not- you’re not unlovable, or unattractive, or whatever is going through your head right now.” He reassures you, still rubbing your arm with his thumb, “I swear to god.”

When you look at him, you can’t help but feel the words bubbling at your throat, giving you heartburn and scorching your mouth like vomit.

“It was you first.”

First, he’s confused. His eyebrows furrow, his eyes squint, his body tenses. “First?”

But when it hits him, it hits him.

“Oh.” He gasps, “Oh.”

You turn away, staring at the wooden floor poking out from between your feet.

“You never- I never- That’s impossible. I never, I couldn’t have rejected you. You never said anything.” He rambles.

You shake your head.

Oh.

His eyes soften.

The years of him dating his past girlfriend; Dot, was her name. They had met in college, hit it off quick, and swallowed up two years of your life. The Instagram photos, the times she slept over, her insistence on PDA and flaunting him anywhere she can— it ate you up. It broke your heart.

“I didn’t know. You didn’t- you never said anything.” He stutters, voice still soft. He sounds sad, almost regretful. He sounds saddened for you and himself. “I’m... I’m sorry. I always thought... I thought you and my brother...” He explains, dread filling his lungs like air.

Your face only saddens, swallowing thickly. You can’t help but feel your lip quiver, fingers beginning to tremble again.

“Did you actually?” Bucky asks, slowly.

You nod. “Yeah... yeah.”

Bucky can’t help but go silent. He takes a moment, takes a second to really process it, staring off into space next to you for moments before he speaks. The silence kills you, it’s painful, it’s murderous, almost violent in the way it hits you— almost threatening to draw tears from your eyes once again, finally looking at him.

“I wouldn’t have rejected you.” He states, finally, eyes closed. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I... I liked you too, you know.”

“What?” You ask, almost like your flabbergasted by the idea that he would even think about seeing you that way. You’re younger, you’re behind him, you’re from a different world— not even in his peripheral vision.

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs. “I just, I thought you liked Beckett, so I never- I never said anything. And even- and even if that wasn’t the case, I didn’t want to make it awkward, didn’t want him to hate me for ruining your friendship or something.”

“So you...” You trail off, trying to collect your thoughts, “You were into me, before Dot?”

He chuckles, dry and nervous. “I mean- It’s... it’s shitty, but, I did even while I was with her.”

You’re staring, eyes blank, eyebrows raised, finding yourself trying to soften your breathing again. “Do you, still...?”

“I mean...” Laughing awkwardly again, he leans his elbow on his thigh to rub at his forehead, “Yeah. Yeah. Of course I do.”

“Really?” Your voice is hopeful, a smile appearing at the sides of your mouth.

“Yeah.” He laughs again, but this time, it feels genuine. “I mean- have you looked in the mirror? That swimsuit you’re in today is enough to drive me to fucking drink. And it’s not just because you’re hot, you— you’ve been taking up my mind, like. constantly. Every time we talk, I walk away so fucking...” He lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Satisfied.”

That has you almost crying again, but for a completely different reason. You’re laughing, wetly, trying to pry your eyes away from him despite the fact that you can’t. He squeezes your arm, reminding you that you’re still connected.

When you turn back to him, he brings his hand to your cheek, wiping some stray, wet hairs out of your eyes. His hand lands to cup your cheek, just to hold you.

“Can you kiss me?” You find yourself asking, before you can even think about it.

Bucky’s taken by surprise. It has him almost acting immediately, before he roots out his worries.

“I’m not...” Fingers trailing your face, “I’m not taking advantage of you, am I?”

You giggle, heart beating warm from his care. You shake your head. “No. I promise.”

Slowly, he leans in. He places a tentative, experimental kiss to your mouth— lips barely even pressing against yours. You grab his face, pulling him in, swallowing his mouth in yours. It has him grunting and moaning against you, hand moving to your back to pull you in closer.

After exploring each other’s mouths, practically eating each other whole, Bucky pulls away:

“What about- what about my brother?” He asks, out of breath.

“I don’t- I don’t care about him,” You breathe heavy, nose rubbing against his, “It was you first. It still is.”

He basks in your words like they’re the sun, a grin exploring his entire face and crinkling his nose. He brings you in again; has you moaning and gasping into his mouth, hands holding onto his stubbled jaw for dear life. He can feel his body vibrating, his stomach wrapping up in knots as the familiar, cold desire spreads up his spine; the same one that is spreading throughout your core.

With your body pressed so close to his, getting closer by each minute- you can feel his length under his sweatpants, growing harder with each kiss. He apologizes, pulling away from you.

You’re trying to catch your breath, “Don’t be.”

You lean down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck, fingers trailing down his clothed chest with the same rhythm. Feeling his fingers itching near your ribs, you grasp your hand in his, bringing it to cup your clothed breast.

Bucky groans as he squeezes the mound of flesh— he’s quick to pull down one of your bikini cups, head moving quick to bring his mouth to your nipple. He wraps his lips around the bud, suckling onto it as he massages the rest of your breast.

That has you tossing your head back, letting a moan out into the air- “Fuck.”

“Is this okay?” He asks, mumbling against your bust.

“Yes,” You whine, “Fuck yes.”

With him sucking on your exposed tits, you brush your hand down, palming his cock overtop of his pants. He groans against your nipple, pausing his movements at your distraction.

When he stops, you pull him away from your tits, grasping his face in both of your hands.

“I want you in my mouth.” You confess, breathless.

That has Bucky groaning again, cock throbbing in his pants. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” You whine, “I wanna suck your cock. Please.”

How could he ever say no to that?

With his approval, you lean your head down almost immediately. You pull down his sweats, exposing his boxers, which are removed just as quickly. His cock; hard, leaking and pink at the tip smacks against his clothed stomach. You wrap your hands around his length, suppressing the moan threatening to spill when you realize you can’t even touch your fingers around his width.

When you give your first experimental lick, he’s moaning, head tossed against the couch; “Fuck.”

Bucky’s hand moves to wipe the hair out of your face, watching as you wrap your lips around his cock and slide him down your throat. He’s grunting, moaning at the sight; unable to keep his eyes away from you, despite how they threaten to close.

He’s salty in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat as you bob your head up and down. Your hand massages the part of his length you can’t fit down, feeling the way he’s throbbing against your palm.

One thing you’ve learned is that Bucky is extremely vocal. He can’t keep his mouth shut— between grunts, moans and whimpers, he’s letting out an entire symphony above you, free hand gripping the couch so tightly his hand turns white.

You lean up to grab his hand, pressing both of them at the back of your neck as a signal.

He stares into your eyes, big and round above his cock, “Are you sure?”

You hum against his cock, making him grunt.

“Fuck, okay.”

Bucky grips your hair between his hands, spreading his legs enough to let himself balance. He starts slow; pushing and pulling you up and down his cock, groaning at the feeling of your tongue moving around his tip.

He gets faster, fucking your face within minutes. You’re gagging around him, spit trailing down onto his pants, tears slipping from your eyes to mix with your already wet face.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl.” Bucky moans, “Takin’ it so well. You like my cock down your throat? You like letting me use that little mouth of yours?”

When you moan at his words, he can’t help but laugh.

“God, I know you do,” He gets faster, grunting harder, “I can tell. Such a little- fuck, little whore, lettin’ me use her like this- I love it, shit, I fuckin’ love it.”

He pulls you off of him with a wet pop, whining at the loss of your mouth- despite the fact that he’s the one who caused it.

“C’mere.”

He’s quick to pull you up, pulling you onto his lap. You can feel his cock against your stomach; but before you can react he pulls you back against his mouth, moaning at the taste of his precum against your tongue.

Bucky pulls the other cup of your top down, freeing both of your tits to the air conditioned breeze. He slides his hands down your stomach; tickling your skin, before it slips underneath your swim trunks.

His fingers rub on your folds, smiling when he finds you already soaked.

“You get that wet just from suckin’ me off?” He asks, after pulling away from your desperate mouth.

“Uh-huh,” You whine, “Can’t help it.”

He coos, rubbing your cheek with his free thumb, “I know you can’t, baby.”

Bucky’s fingers catch in your hole, slipping inside with ease. He’s able to fit two in with your provided slick, soaking his fingers and sliding them right in. His thumb flicks at your clit as his fingers scissor inside of you, pumping in and out.

You bury your face in his neck, desperately grinding against his fingers with heavy moans against his neck. That only makes him get faster; pistoning inside your heat with abandon, hitting that spongey spot inside of you with ease.

“You want me to fuck you?” He breathes, strain in his voice clear. “Want me to fuck you right here on this couch, where anyone could fuckin’ walk in and see you?”

You whine, “Yes, fuck, please.”

When he pulls your trunks to the side, he slips inside of your wet heat easily.

Bucky groans at the feeling of your fluttering core clenching around him, harmonizing with your whimpers.

He pulls you up by your chin; softly, stroking your cheek with his hand, despite how it shakes with pleasure. “You okay?”

You nod, “Mhm. I’m okay. Please move.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your awaiting lips.

Bucky starts off slow— a tantalizing, torturous grind, barely even moving inside of your cunt.

“Mm, I know, honey.” He coos, after you whimper impatiently against his skin, “I gotta- fuck, gotta go slow. Pussy’s so fuckin’ tight, if I go any faster I’m gonna blow my fuckin’ load already.”

That has you moaning. That image: him filling your cunt, having him leaking out of your folds and onto the couch, over top of your trunks— it fulfills this primal desire in your stomach, making you even more desperate than you were before.

“Oh fuck, do you like that?” Bucky asks, almost shocked, “You like the idea of me fillin’ that little cunt?”

You nod, whining.

“Fuck,” He moans, drawn out in a long groan. His thrusts get faster; he’s grabbing onto your waist, pulling you down against him so he can piston into your cunt from below. You’re loud, moaning into the air as his heavy balls slap against your ass. “God, you’re so fucking dirty.”

Your hand draws down to beneath your pants, rubbing your clit in circles.

“Fuck, baby,” Bucky grunts at the sight, “Look so pretty gettin’ yourself off like that, shit, yeah, make yourself cum on my cock. That’s fuckin’ it.”

You’re bouncing on top of him without even moving, tits moving rapidly in front of his face, hair flowing every which way with the fast movement. You’re so close, so desperate to that rope finally ripping, tearing inside of your core in the most delicious way.

Bucky’s sounds of pleasure fuel your need, getting you closer to that edge, hurdling, hurdling, hurdling, until—

“Fuck, Bucky, fuck!”

You’re crashing. Falling down off the cliff into a bone rattling orgasm, cunt clenching so hard around his cock you’re suffocating it. Your legs are twitching, trembling around him, but he doesn’t let up. He keeps fucking you through it, using you to get himself off- now that he no longer needs to worry about you coming.

“Oh god, baby, gonna fuckin’ cum,” He grunts, “Can I really come in you? Fuck, you gonna let me?”

His voice is so genuine, it has you turned on all over again.

“I’m on the pill, please. Please, fill me up.”

You lean down, whispering, whining encouragement into his ear, practically pleading for him to spend his load deep inside your cunt.

When Bucky cums, he cums hard. His balls slap against your ass one last time, burying himself deep inside of you. His legs are trembling, burying his face into your neck to muffle the yells he’s letting out, almost completely against his will.

“Oh,” He moans, voice trembling like his limbs, “Oh god.”

“Mhm,” You whine, brushing his hair in your fingers.

You two stay there, wrapped in each other. You can feel his cum dripping out of you already, running down your leg to stain the grey fabric of his sweatpants; which undoubtedly need a thorough washing now.

You feel Bucky leaving soft, gentle kisses against your jawline, up to your ear, cheek and nose, then finally planting one on your lips.

“You okay? Was that okay?” He asks, brushing your hair from your face.

“Mhm.” You hum, again, “Was really good.”

He smiles, genuine and soft. “Good. I’m glad.”

You giggle, bringing him in for another kiss by the back of his head, more sloppy this time.

“Hey, uh,” He says after he pulls away- much to his own dismay, “As much as I’d love to just stay here, we should probably move. They’re gonna be comin’ back from the water, soon.”

“Oh- shit, yeah, right.” You laugh, letting out a harsh breath. But when you move to get up off of him, he pulls you down, wrapping your mouth in another harsh, tongue-filled kiss.

“Sorry, just had to do that one more time.”

#me naming his brother beckett because it's the closest to rebecca </3 #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut #my writing #why is writing kissing scenes so hard??#i dont know how many different ways i can describe sucking tongues

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wandering-winchesters · 1 year

Text

Please don’t shut me out.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 2,607

Requested Anonymously: Could you write something using the prompt, “I know you always push people away, I just never thought you’d do it to me.” With a Dean x Reader pairing? I love your writing!! xx

Summary: The reader struggles with anxiety and depression, especially after a hunt doesn't go the way she hoped it would.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of anxiety, depression and coping mechanisms.

Note: Everyone handles anxiety & depression in different ways, I by no means think that there is a cure all. The things that I mentioned are simply things that bring me comfort. If you are struggling, please reach out.

Masterlist

—

Since I was ten years old, anxiety and depression had been my closest unwelcome friend. Although, at the time I did not know it by that name. It was the nightly stomach ache at eight o’clock sharp every night. The insomnia when my parents sent to bed at nine o’clock. My brain keeping me awake after everyone else had fallen asleep, every night. I never had many friends as a child, I kept to myself. Social anxiety not allowing me to think anyone cared enough about me to want to get to know me.

Now, as an adult, I have managed to cope with my anxiety a bit better. However, when my depression gets bad, it is still an uphill climb. A battle that I internalize as much as I can, not wanting anyone else to see the darkness within. Especially when it comes to Sam and Dean, they have enough on their plates they don’t need to worry about me on top of all of that. They don’t need to know that every hunt that I go on with them haunts me in my sleep almost every night. The boys are an escape on their own, just being around them helps with any anxiety while I am awake. They calm me, their presence alone surrounds me with the feeling of love and protection. Not having to worry about if I am safe, when I am with them.

I had started hunting a few years back, I was unwilling at first, dragged into it by my late father. We had run into Sam and Dean while on a witch hunt, the very same hunt that claimed my fathers life. The boys took me in after that, ignoring my refusals of their help. Insisting, that they just needed my help with one more hunt, that turned into 2, which turned into 30. Until it just became the norm. I moved into the bunker with them and took it upon myself to keep the place cleaned and stocked with food. Not something they ever asked for or expected me to do, it is just how I show my love and appreciation for the two of them.

Today has been a difficult day, I had just gotten back from a solo hunt that I insisted on taking. Much to Sam and Dean's dismay and strong objections. However, I didn’t give them much choice, getting up early while they were still asleep and leaving in my truck. Sending them a quick text to explain where I was off to, with instructions not to worry or try to come after me. I regretted my choice, I should have brought them along. It would have made it easier to handle, made the loss a little bit easier to manage. I can still see the face of the woman I was seconds too late to save. Her eyes slowly closing, her hand gripping my arm, tears slowly running down her cheeks. I blink, bringing myself back to reality. I was parked in front of the bunker, back from the hunt. I reach up and wipe away the tears that had unknowingly fallen from my own eyes, as I was lost in my thoughts.

I open the drivers door, stepping down onto the gravel. Making quick work of grabbing my backpack and duffle from the back seat. I turn and walk towards the door, steeling myself before I walk into the bunker. Not wanting the boys to catch on to the fact that I am not doing well. I precariously balance my duffle bag on my knee as I try to unlock the door to the bunker, but instead I drop my keys.

“Christ,” I mumble, lightly kicking my foot against the door in frustration and blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes. The door jerks open, Dean grinning at me from the other side.

“Wow, thanks sweetheart. I knew I was great, but didn’t realize you thought I was Christ like!” He winks, reaching to take my bags from my hands.

“I got ‘em, thanks though.” I say, rolling my eyes and pushing past him to drop my bags on the floor in front of my room. His joke, that would normally make me laugh, striking the wrong nerve. Dean still stands by the door, confusion spreading across his face. Sam glances up from his seat at the table and gives me a smile, closing the book he was reading and setting it down on the wooden surface in front of him.

“How did the hunt go, Y/N?” Dean asks, closing the door and turning to look at me. His eyes scanning my face for any explanation for the way I had snapped at him. I sigh, and roll my shoulders out, releasing some of the tension I had been carrying between them.

“It went fine Dean, I am just tired and hungry.” I shrug, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a cold bottle of water, taking a few sips.

“Did something happen that you need to talk about?” Sam asks, turning his attention towards Dean and myself, his eyebrows raised in concern.

“Nope, nothing happened. Just tired.” I say, my tone growing more annoyed at having to repeat myself. I turn my back to the boys and walk towards my room, well aware of the looks that the they were giving each other. I am sure that this is not the last I will hear of this conversation.

—

Once I got to my room and shut the door, I could feel depression creeping over me, like a storm cloud, heavy, dark and looming. I took off my jeans and t-shirt and grabbed a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt that I had stolen from Sam, it was one of the ones he had gotten while he was in college. It was warm and comforting, so I always wore it on days like today.

I turned and headed towards my bathroom, deciding a shower was the best thing to do next. I turned the water on, as hot as I could stand it and climbed in. I stood under the water at first, working my fingers through the knots in my hair that had occured over the last few days of stressful hunting. I finished washing my hair within the first few minutes of the shower, but didn't get out. I slid down onto the tile and let my head rest against the wall. I embraced the emptiness I felt, letting the hot water overwhelm my senses. I lost track of time, only getting out of the shower when the water started to turn cold. I shut it off and grabbed my towel to dry off. I ran a brush through my hair before dressing myself in the clothes that I had brought in with me.

I walked out of the bathroom and surveyed my room, messy and cluttered, but mine. I flicked the light off and shuffled across the room before flopping onto my bed, not bothering to get under the covers.

I could hear the low tones of the boys talking in a nearby room, not enough to understand their words, but enough to know they were there. Knowing they were close by was comforting, but at this moment I just wanted to be alone.

The familiar ache in my stomach creeps in, anxiety at its finest. The horrors of the hunt washing back over me, like a tsunami I can't outrun. I scowl, a puff of air escaping my lips as I sigh, rolling onto my side. I pick up my phone, glancing at the unread messages on the screen.

Sam

8:07 P.M. : Hey, I don’t know if something is bothering you or not, but we're here if you need anything. Just yell.

9:45 P.M. : Dean is getting really worried, antsy even. I would at least text him back if you want to be left alone.

Dean-

8:33 P.M.: You said you were hungry, want a burger?

9:17 P.M. : You have been in the shower for over an hour, are you alive in there?

I shut off the screen, setting my phone on the table beside my bed. I close my eyes and try to sleep. However, sleep does not come. I toss and turn, the only thing I can see is her face as she takes her last breath. I can feel tears burning at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away. Stupid. I was stupid to think I could have managed this on my own. It's all my fault that she's dead.

I am jerked from my thoughts by a knock on my door. I keep quiet, hoping that whoever it is they will go away. The knock sounds again, this time my door creaking open a couple of inches, enough for Dean to look through into my dark room. "If you don't want people to know you are ignoring them, you should turn your read receipts off. I know you are awake Y/N." I can hear the worry in his voice, his tone soft. As if he is speaking to a frightened animal, trying to reassure it that he isn't a threat.

"Go away Dean, I just want to be alone." I say, the unsteadiness in my voice way more evident than I wanted it to be. I bite my lip, hoping he won't notice how close to tears I really am.

"I knew you always push people away, I just never thought you’d do it to me." He says, stepping into my room and shutting the door behind him. It's dark, so I can hear him carefully making his way towards me. He chuckles as he trips over something on my floor, probably the jeans I had discarded earlier. He settles himself next to me on the other side of the bed, resting his back on the head board. I pull myself into a sitting position, hugging my legs to my chest and resting my chin on my knees. His weight shifts, and I can't tell what he is doing until the light on the bedside table clicks on. I protest, but am quickly silenced by the look that he gives me. I look away, hoping that he doesn't notice my red rimmed eyes.

"Now, you wanna tell me what happened? Or should I drag it out of you, like you know I will eventually." He asks, his hand coming to rest gently on my spine, tracing soft patterns on my skin.

I sit silent, except for the sniffles that I can't seem to stop. The tears starting to flow again. I sigh, before starting from the beginning. How I had left, the werewolves that I had encountered, the moment where I realized that I had fucked up. How scared I had felt, but that I didn't think I could call him, because I didn't want him to be mad at me. I pause after my last admission, taking a breath and clearing my throat.

"All of this, was bad enough. But then... Dean... I couldn't save her, she was too far gone by the time I got to her. If I had just been better, worked faster, If I hadn't hesitated because of fear then, she would still be here. It's all my fault, I-" The tears are streaming even harder now, leaving a trail, but quickly being replaced by another, a sob escapes me and I quickly try to cover it up, but he knows.

"Hey," He sighs, his hand squeezing the back of my neck to get my attention. When I don't look at him, his tactics change. He shifts his body around so he is sitting in front of me, he cups my chin in his hand tilting my face so his eyes can meet mine. "Stop that, right now. That thinking, is how we end up with another dead hunter. You are not at fault here, from what you told me, there was nothing anyone could have done by that point Y/N. You did your best, and that is something to stand behind." He gently tucks my hair behind my ear, his thumb brushing over my chin before bringing his hand back to his side.

My whole body is trembling at this point, my breathing shaky, muscles tense from trying to stop the unwanted movement making its way through my body. I look away from Dean once again, to wipe my tears on the sleeve of my shirt.

"I never wanted you to know this side of me Dean, that is why I pushed you away. I would've been fine in the morning." I mumble, barely loud enough for him to hear, I look at him once again, to find he's still staring back at me. His green eyes soft, yet concern is etched across his face. His brows pulled together in that all too familiar look of sympathy that I hate.

“Sweetheart, I’ve known this side of you since I first met you. I have it, Sam has it. Matter of fact if you didn’t have it, then I’d be concerned. You can’t do this line of work, without dealing with those things you mentioned. It’s normal, Y/N. You and Sam are the only things that get me out of bed some mornings, most mornings if I’m being honest.” He changes position again, moving back to my side, his arm snaking around my waist and pulling me into his side. I give in and lean against him, tucking my head under his chin. I relish this moment, the scent of his cologne hanging heavy in the air around me. The sound of his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest grounding me in ways I didn’t think possible. Dean holds me for awhile, not breaking the silence. I just need him to hold me and even though I never asked, he knew.

“I can sleep on the couch in here tonight, keep you company.” He offers, beginning to pull away from me. I immediately feel the lack of warmth his body was providing.

“No,” I say hurriedly, watching as confusion flashes over his features. “Can you sleep here? In bed with me?” I ask, bracing myself for his refusal. What was I thinking? Of course he wouldn’t say yes, why would he want to share a bed with me? But instead of refusal, he nods, a small smile spreading across his face. He sheds his flannel, t-shirt, and pants. Before pulling the covers back on my bed and sliding under them, laying on his side facing me.

“Hurry up and get under here, Y/N.” He says, but I don’t move fast enough for his liking. Because before I can blink, he’s pulling me towards his chest and throwing the blankets on top of me. It makes me laugh, small and short, but a laugh none the less. I can feel him smiling against my neck, his lips twitching up at the corners. I turn to face him, wrapping my arms around him in a hug that I was so unknowingly desperate for. We stay like that for quite a while, in silence. His breathing evening out, I assume he’s sleeping, so when he speaks I jump ever so slightly. His grip around me tightening.

“Promise you won’t shut me out again, sweetheart? I just want to be here for you. Just like you do for me.” He whispers, pressing the lightest kiss to my forehead. I nod, raising my chin too look up at him.

“I promise.”

A/N: Requests are open! Please send them to me. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, please let me know!

#deanwinchesterxreader #dean winchester #supernatural dean #deanwinchesterblurb #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #deanwinchesterfluff #sam and dean #sam winchester #spn #dean winchester angst #dean winchester comfort #wanderingwinchesters #supernatural #supernatural fic

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miquella-everywhere · 1 month

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i think miquellas curse is more then just eternal childhood. i find it very interesting that it seems none of his plans ever came to fruition, the hailigtree never became an erdtree, the eclipse didnt happen, his knights sword was never given to a knight, he was torn from the trees womb, malenia failed to defeat radahn in caelid. i think his curse then is a wider reaching thing that causes both him and all his work to stay in an infant state. in the same way malenias rot causes things to decay around her miquelas eternal childhood effects everything he does too.

🤔🤔🤔

I have to say that I think you are right anon.

I have my own theories but personally, I see that Miquella has been fighting and uphill battle since the very moment that he was born. Not quite on the same physical sense as Malenia, but more in regards to how he is being purposefully stunted from achieving his true potential.

What makes Miquella so interesting to me is just straight up the existence of Unalloyed Gold; a metal so pure that it can purge the meddling of an Outer God. And as we can see, by looking deeper into what's truly going on, is that several Outer Gods are all vying for power in the Land Between. And amazingly the only one that has the power to truly put a stop to their meddling; is Miquella.

Miquella has faced resistance all his life from the looming presence of the Outer Gods. Be it the Rot that has a strangle hold on his beloved twin sister, the Greater Will which dominates the Land and terrorizes those it deems lesser in the eyes of its Order, the Frenzied Flame which slandered the Grand Caravan and wishes to burn the world to ash, or the Formless Mother and her Avatar Mohg, who has left Miquella's body as nothing more than a withered cadaver.

Miquella has been fighting an uphill battle against the Outer Gods since day one, and he is without a doubt the biggest threat to every single one of them. And that is precisely why they fear him, and wish to make him weak.

But at the same time: Miquella has vowed to become exactly what it is that the Outer Gods fear of him.

And all he needs is a Tarnished that is too stubborn to die to make his plans come to fruition.

Edit:

Okay so in terms of Malenia, she too was stunted from birth.

Like, if Miquellas whole deal is is his intelligence/faith, then Mals whole deal is her dexterity/strength. Malenia was purposely stunted with the fact that the Rot hinders her physical growth and strength, along with the fact that she is constantly losing her body/limbs to the Rot, and that she is in an eternal mental battle to make sure that the Rot does not claim her mind/very being.

Miquella and Malenia are two halves of one whole, and both of the Empyrean Twins are hindered from achieving their full potential thanks to the bullshit of the Outer Gods.

But regardless of the Outer Gods meddling, Miquella and Malenia have managed to rely on each other to enhance their strengths, and cover their weaknesses, so that they can make their ambitions come true.

#sorry i started rambling lol #i have so many feeling about miq and his beef with the outer gods #like DAMN #if rannís whole deal is giving the middle finger to the Greater Will #then miqs whole deal is giving a double bird to every outer god there is and vowing to become exactly what they fear from him #mark my words the dlc will be explore this crazy beef #míquella despises the outer gods and wants to rid the world of them #uri answers #miquella the unalloyed #elden ring #elden ring theory

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catnipaddictt · 20 days

Text

jailbreak

scott barringer x gn!reader

synopsis: You and Scott decide to escape New Horizons, a camp for at risk teens.

wc: 1.3k

tw: none

comment: there is a lack of Scott content on tumblr so I decided I wanted to write something. Also I fell in love with higher ground, i didn't think it was going to be that good, but i binged it in under a week.

You kick at the ground with your beat-up old sneakers, watching as moisture falls from the blades of grass. Grumbling could be heard from in front of you as the ground of teens treked behind their leader. Ever since you had arrived at New Horizons, it was basically walk after walker. You swear once you are out of this place you would never hike again. But alas you had now been here for almost 2 months, and Peter sure wasn't letting you out anytime soon.

Picking up your feet, you begin to follow your group as they walk uphill through the forest that surrounds the school. You make up the back of the pack, mostly just because you prefer to walk at a more leisurely pace.

“Hey” you glance to your side to be met with blue eyes. Scott. He had been here for around the same time you had meaning that you were both ‘fresh meat’. If you could even call yourself that anymore. You reply back with a “hi” focusing on not tripping on any tree roots. Scott was at New Horizons for a drug related problem, something a lot of the students had issues with. He was normally standoffish and refused to participate but you two got along just fine. Which led to the little problem of your not so little crush on the tall boy.

“I hate walking” he states plainly and you agree, nodding your head. “I mean, how is this supposed to help, walking up hills isn't going to fix a bunch of messed up kids” Scott continues. “It sucks, I just want to get out of here” you reply. “Hey, what if we-” Scott seems to want to say something but changes his mind, shaking his head. “Nevermind.” You glance at him confused. “C'mon, you have got to say it now” you laugh. “It was stupid anyways” he grumbles at the ground.

“Oh boo-hoo, just tell me” you practically beg. Scott sees this and ultimately starts to speak, “we could get out of here you know? It's only the forest holding us back I mean. And we have pretty much walked all of it twice over.” You turn your head to look at him, “you mean run away?” you ask. He has caught your full attention now. “See, told you it was dumb” Scott answers.

“Let's do it.”

“Sorry?” He states, “you can't be serious.” He raises an eyebrow. “Oh I'm serious. I have had enough of this place. Worst case scenario we get caught, that's like a few days of confinement to the cabins.” You reply smoothly. It was definitely a horrible idea but it's not like life was too exciting for you at the moment.”I mean, I'm down if you are” Scott shrugs. You think for a moment before replying. “Okay two days from now there is the school bonfire thing. We pack bags beforehand, I'll sneak into the kitchens and get us some food and stuff, and we can meet up by the docks. They won't notice we have gone for a few hours at least.”

Scott looks at you “a few hours head start is probably as good as we are going to get.” He makes up his mind, “okay I'm in.”

The next two days passed rather slowly, with not much really happening apart from lectures about personal wellness. What a waste of your time. You were counting down the minutes until your and Scott's escape out of here.

The final hours of your time at New Horizons were spent packing a bag, light enough to not slow you down, but enough to keep you going until you could get more supplies. Your next job was the kitchen.

The sun had almost disappeared by the time you reached the space, quietly opening and shutting the door behind you. You grabbed two large plastic bottles of water, placing them in your bag, as well as a few cans of food and lots of snacks. This was definitely enough to last you a few days. Getting through the forest should only take a few hours, the tricky part was not being seen around town.

Zipping up your bag you sneak out of the kitchen, making your way to the docks. You could see Scott's shadow cast on the wooden planks, giving his location away. You walk almost silently up to him and he jumps a little at you appearing. “Don't sneak up on me like that” he says playfully.

You nod your head in the direction of the path leading to the forest “time to go?” The light from the bonfire flickers over the landscape, making it feel like something out of a 80’s horror film. “Yeah, let's do it”

You both make your way out of the school and into the dense forest. There is nearly no light apart from the occasional bit of moon peeking through the canopy. Scott pulls two flashlights out of his bag, passing one to you “borrowed Auggie’s, hope he doesn't mind” he shrugs and you laugh. Poor Auggie had been robbed of his only torch.

After about an hour of walking Scott starts telling you clearly made up stories about people getting lost in the woods never to be seen again. Typical teenager boy behavior. You roll your eyes in response - not that he could see. “That's so not real” you speak, only to be met with a yelp as he trips over a tree root. You cannot contain your laughter at the action. “Not funny” he grumbles.

The next few hours pass in a blur. The clear night makes your walk nicer than you thought it was going to be. Scott being there helped a lot. You both exchange tales of your lives before New Horizons, Scott tells you about his football games and school. Up ahead of you, you can see where the ground drops about 6 feet or so, meaning you will have to climb down. Scott goes first, passing you his bag so you can throw it down to him once he is on solid ground. Once he reaches the earth again you throw down his bag followed by yours. He catches them and puts them down on the ground. Now it's your turn to make the descent.

You make it most of the way down without fail, but the place where you put your left foot collapses and you are forced to jump back and onto the dirt covered ground. Luckily you don’t hurt yourself but in the process you manage to basically slam into your companion. He lets out a sound at the impact, “woah there.” “Sorry Scott.”

After another hour you finally reach the edge of civilization and you exchange grins with the blonde boy. You had made it with close to little hiccups. Making it onto town, you and Scott begin to brainstorm what to do now. “We need to get further away before first light, then people might see the two of us. And when Peter comes asking they will know we were here” You think out loud. “We could hitchhike?” Scott suggests “It's risky but if we walk further out of town we have a better chance of someone who is passing through and not a local?”

You agree to the plan and after a quick break from walking you both set out again. Now that you are out of the dense forest you can see the night sky. It's clear tonight and you can see all the stars, you will miss it in a way. But you made your decision. As you walk, your hand brushes against Scott’s prompting you to snap your arm close to your side, embarrassed. You can sense his head turning to look at you briefly before he looks straight ahead again. Then, if on second thought, he grabs your hand in his, interlocking your pinkies. You look down at your and Scott's hand and smile. Maybe, just maybe it would all work out fine.

I'm not sure about the ending of this one as I kinda didn't know how to finish it but oh well. Im also finishing writing a whole heap of requests, so expect those soon!

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #higher ground #higherground #higher ground tv show #scott barringer #scott higher ground #scott barringer x reader #scott barringer x you #hayden christensen x you

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hereticpriest · 1 month

Text

Pyrrhic

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Baron Helmut Zemo x Female Reader

Length: 14k+

Summary: Once, HYDRA sought to create an improved version of the super soldier through breeding the Winter Soldier with another super soldier they made for that express purpose.

Now, fourteen years after escaping HYDRA's clutches, Bucky Barnes comes to you for help with the rise of super soldiers under the title Flagsmashers. Unfortunately, Barnes' feelings drive you closer to Baron Helmut Zemo, and you find yourself hoping for a future for the first time in your life.

Warnings: Unrequited Bucky Barnes/Reader, Bucky Barnes is a bit controlling, Manipulative Helmut Zemo, HYDRA comes with it's own whole bucket of warnings, HYDRA had a secret super soldier breeding program, Reader is a kidnapping victim, Reader is 3/4 Sokovian, P in V sex, oral sex (f receiving), reference to potential purity kink, loss of virginity, reader is touch-adverse, reader is also touch-starved, shower sex, ambiguous ending, consent is discussed multiple times, enthusiastic consent, Helmut Zemo is a consent king. Let me know if I missed something!

“Are you ever going to tell us about this person you’re insisting we need for this mission?” Sam asked as he stepped carefully through the thick brush of the forest around them. Bucky ducked under a large branch, shoulders tense as he practically stalked through the woods. His companions, reluctant as they may be, could tell that he didn’t want to answer the question - he was always evasive, but something about this person was making him especially tense. Sam was just happy that the Baron had kept his mouth shut so far. Considering his royal upbringing, one might think he would struggle on this mostly uphill hike through thick forest and untamed land, however Sam knew he’d been part of an elite Sokovian task force and that he had the strength and stamina to prove it.

“She was called Mat when I knew her, though she hated the title, so I wouldn’t recommend using it. Too fucking young for it anyways.” Bucky spat that last sentence, and Sam raised an eyebrow sceptically, not having the linguistic context to put two and two together. Zemo, however, huffed a breath laced with disdain and curiosity. Bucky shot him a dangerous look over his shoulder, and the Baron raised his hands placatingly, though Sam noticed him roll his eyes the moment Barnes looked away. The tension had been at a record high since Zemo was broken out of the German prison he’d been interred in, and Sam was starting to get sick of playing mediator between them.

“How did you know her?” Sam asked, and James paused mid-step, then turned to his two companions.

“She was held by an offshoot group of HYDRA scientists at a lab in the Czech Republic from the age of eight. They gave her a modified version of the super soldier serum used on the soldiers at the Siberian facility against her will, and they kept her locked in the facility until she escaped when she was eighteen.” Every word was said carefully, and while Sam took that as Bucky struggling to tell the girl’s story, Zemo observed him with open curiosity. He could tell that there was quite a bit that the former Winter Soldier wasn’t telling them.

“Modified how?” He asked, and Barnes scowled, but Sam’s equally curious gaze made him bite his cheek to stop from chewing the Baron out.

“She was… faster than any other super soldier I’ve ever seen. Not as strong physically, but her reaction time is far superior. She heals fast like the rest of us, but they did something to her pain responses. Dulled them, but didn’t remove them completely. She wasn’t as aggressive as the ones in Siberia were. The scientists made some hormonal changes as well.” Bucky shrugged, getting uncomfortable as he mentioned that last part, and Zemo tilted his head, studying his reactions.

“She didn’t want the serum, though? I mean, she was eight when they took her. How old was she when they gave it to her?” Sam asked, and Barnes closed his eyes briefly, his expression pained.

“They gave it to her shortly after she arrived at the facility. Maybe a month. She was just a kid. I could hear her screaming from the other side of the facility. They didn’t put her through the same brainwashing bullshit they did to me, but she wasn’t willing like the other soldiers, so they… they used to beat her until she started to learn to fight back like they wanted. She tried to escape, but they never let her out of the facility.” He replied, “So don’t start up your ‘I need to kill all super soldiers’ bullshit with her, Zemo. She never had a choice.”

The Baron considered his words, pursing his lips for a moment before softening ever so slightly.

“As you say, she was only a child.”

Bucky nodded, then continued his solemn march, cresting the top of the hill and sighing as a dark wood cabin came into view. Smoke trailed from the chimney, and there was a long driveway heading from the cabin to the road they’d abandoned nearly a mile back due to Bucky’s insistence that they approach on foot from the forest lest she know they were coming. An old, beat up pickup truck sat like a rusty silver beacon in the driveway with a large, newer-looking storage box hooked into the bed. There was a storage shed behind the cabin, and an old, large stump that appeared to be used as a woodcutter’s block considering the axe sunk deep into it. The firewood rack was full to the brim against the right wall of the cabin, and a full clothesline hung between the opposite side of the cabin and a sturdy nearby tree.

“You okay, man?” Sam asked, clapping Bucky on the shoulder when the other man didn’t move for over a minute, staring at the cabin trepidatiously. The hundred-and-six year old man was always tense, but his shoulders felt like iron under Sam’s hand.

“She might not be happy to see me.” Barnes admitted, and Sam hummed his acknowledgement, then started trudging down the small slope towards the house. This finally kicked Bucky into movement, and he followed swiftly, pausing only briefly when he spotted your tall frame exiting the shed behind the cabin. There was a Browning Citori against one shoulder, and blood had soaked into the dirty blue plaid shirt you wore. Your knees were muddy from kneeling in the woods. To the far left of the cabin in a clearing past a line of thick trees were two worn stones sticking out of the earth, and you approached calmly, dropping to kneel before them.

“Well, she looks real friendly.” Sam mused, clapping Bucky on the back, “Good luck.”

Five hours earlier, you had thumped a deer carcass down on the butcher table in your shed, then hung your trusty shotgun on the rack behind the door where it belonged. It had taken you a long time to perfect field dressing, and even longer to learn to get good at butchering your meat, but you had learned. You had no choice. Society and its shiny grocery stores full of pre-packaged food were far too dangerous for you. HYDRA still had a hold on the world when you first escaped, and there were still monstrous little tentacles everywhere who had escaped the punishment they deserved for what they had done. You knew how to hunt humans, so animals weren’t such a big stretch. Now, after fourteen years, you were an expert at surviving on your own. You went into town once a month at most, on a different day every time to avoid routine, to pick up the essentials you couldn’t scavenge for yourself.

With the deer butchered and packed away in your meat freezer, you made your way towards the two gravestones just out of view of your cabin. With a heavy sigh, you tucked the shotgun under your chin, sitting with it between your knees, and stared at the cold stones. Upon one, Rickard Stroud. On the other, Imogen Whitley.

“Thank you both. Thank you Imogen, for having mercy on a broken creature and freeing me from my shackles. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you in return. I bet you’re sick of hearing it by now, but I will never forget what you sacrificed for me. Thank you Rickard, for leaving me everything I needed to survive. I wish I could have known you. I hope you wouldn’t be too mad at me for moving into your home, but I promise I’ve tried my best to maintain it with the care you clearly did.”

Bucky jerked forwards as he watched you point the shotgun at yourself, panic racing through his veins at the thought of losing you before he’d even gotten you back. Not that he’d ever had you in the first place - you were a name on his reparations list that he needed to cross off. He was responsible for what happened to you, regardless of whether he was in control of himself or not. The entire choice to upend and ruin your life was made because of him. The inability to make amends sparked every selfish fear response in his body.

“Wait-” The Baron’s gloved hand closed around Bucky’s metal bicep, not quite able to pull him back, but enough to pause his forward momentum, “Look closely, James. Her finger is not on the trigger. This is a ritual.”

Sam felt sympathy coil in his gut as he watched the woman kneel in the dirt, the cold metal against her skin as if it gave her peace. He inwardly acknowledged that if anyone might understand a grief ritual of this specific breed, it might be Zemo, though he didn’t want to give the man the credit. Bucky stared down at her, seeming to deflate before their very eyes, though his face showed some measure of relief. He shrugged Zemo’s hand off of his arm, then continued forwards at a slower pace, no longer panicking. Zemo watched for a moment before following them, noting the way the woman’s head tilted ever-so-slightly in their direction before straightening out again.

Three approached from the southwest. One stomped through the forest despite the ability to soften his steps, one walked with purpose but made a poor attempt to soften his steps, and the third walked leisurely but with an awareness to his gait. All soldiers of varying service, if you weren’t mistaken. One of them was, unfortunately, familiar.

You let out a long, laboured sigh as you laid your shotgun down in front of you, then pushed yourself up from your knees. The footsteps stopped, and you shed your plaid shirt, leaving yourself in only a black undershirt and your muddy sweatpants. If this was going to be a fight, you’d make sure it was one they regretted. You spun to face the trio with a raised eyebrow, biceps flexing, shoulders rolling as you prepared yourself.

“Soldat. Falcon. Ah, and the Baron as well, how curious. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked, noticing Bucky’s gaze fixed on your shotgun, “Relax, Soldat, I’m far too much of a coward.”

The former Winter Soldier scoffed, taking another step closer to you but freezing when you took a step back, “I’m not going to do anything, doll. I’m not… I’m not him anymore.”

The Falcon put his hand on Barnes’ shoulder as if to hold him back and steady him all in one shot while the former Winter Soldier processed your fear of him, guilt eating away at his guts. The Baron leaned against a tree nearby to observe, just out of the way to avoid getting in the middle of any conflict.

“I know what you are, Barnes. Better than most.” You replied, glancing from him to the Baron and taking the time to stare at him from top to bottom, curious, “You’re working with Zemo. I would assume that meant you were here to kill me, but you would have chosen an easier method, surely. Which means that there’s another super soldier or two running about, and you’ve decided to try and bring me along. Why?”

Bucky squirmed as your intense stare moved from the now slightly flushed Baron back to him, and he clenched his fists a few times to work through the nerves.

“I’ve known where you were for a while. Look, I don’t want to call you… that, so what name are you using these days? Your old name?” You don’t answer him right away, brow arched sceptically as you observe his expression. “You’re long overdue for an apology, and we need someone who can go toe-to-toe with super soldiers.”

You scoffed, turning your back on them.

“I don’t have- I’ve been going by Stroud, after the guy who owned this cabin before I found it. My old name is no one’s business but mine, Barnes. He certainly doesn’t need to know any more about me than he already does. I’d like to be offended that you brought a man to my doorstep who will no doubt want me dead, but I suppose that the greater good calls, doesn’t it?” You asked, gesturing towards Zemo, whose somewhat conflicted expression did nothing to quell your worry.

“I don’t want you dead, liebling. You did not choose your fate, and you’ve kept to yourself instead of enforcing your will on others.” The Baron said confidently, and you acknowledged him with a nod, then turned a twisted smirk towards Barnes.

“You didn’t tell them my whole story, clearly. Was that to protect me, James, or was it to protect yourself?” You asked, and both Sam and Zemo turned their concerned gazes to the former soldier. You picked up your shotgun lazily, marching towards the house.

“Why don’t we go inside and Barnes can tell you the whole story. From the beginning, since he remembers all of it. Take off your shoes - if you track mud through my house I’ll make you regret it.” You called over your shoulder, tapping off your boots on the porch then heading through the door. Once inside, you kicked them off and headed towards your bedroom to get changed. When you returned, the Baron was standing in your kitchen making tea while Barnes and Sam took up every inch of space on the small sofa. You claimed your armchair after scooting it at least a foot out of Bucky’s reach.

“Well, go ahead, James. Tell them my sordid tale. Or, at least, the parts you conveniently left out.” You encouraged him, accepting the tea that Zemo offered you with a soft ‘Danke’. He nodded, returning shortly after with a tray of tea and water for himself and the others. When he sat in the other armchair no more than a foot or two away from you, you didn’t scoot away, simply looked him up and down quickly as if assessing a threat. His demure smile did little to soothe you, but you weren’t scared of him in this situation - he was much more terrifying when he had the time and space to plan your demise.

“Stroud was eight when… when I was sent to kidnap her. She spent her summers and school breaks in Sokovia, but grew up in Canada, chosen because she had no genetic deficiencies or hereditary health issues. She was on vacation with her parents visiting her family in Sokovia when they sent me. I… I took her to the lab just outside of Prague, and HYDRA left me there for a couple of months while she settled in. They unfroze me up a couple times through the years to… to test her.” Bucky explained, watching Sam and Zemo’s faces to see their reactions.

“Your family is Sokovian?” The Baron asked, and you shrugged your shoulders but nodded.

“My father, and my mother’s maternal side. They were in Novigrad.” You explained, and he gave you a sympathetic nod, “Tell them the rest, James. I don’t believe the news will make my Baron want to kill me any more, now that he knows I’m one of his citizens.”

It was said teasingly, but from the way Zemo shifted in his seat and pursed his lips, you didn’t think you were far off. You could understand - he had lost his homeland, and you were a relic of that, using it against him to protect yourself shamelessly.

“The scientists chose her because… they liked her genetics. She didn’t have any concerning genes, hereditary health conditions, and none of her family suffered from any obvious addictions…” Bucky took a deep, steadying breath before continuing, “This was important to them because… because they wanted to… they theorised that breeding two super soldiers might create a stronger variant.”

Silence reigned, while you sipped your tea patiently, letting the men absorb that painful and disgusting truth. Sam got up from the sofa, clearly needing to pace, his hands resting on his hips as he thought it over. Bucky seemed to sink into the sofa on the other hand, as if he could hide from this somehow. Zemo rubbed his hand over his mouth, lost in thought, but it seemed that the most active of them all found his voice first.

“So they made you kidnap a child so they could turn her into your… what, baby mama?” Sam asked, his sneering face matching yours. He wasn’t mad at Bucky, obviously, but the entire concept of this was entirely antithetical to his worldview and moral structure.

“Does that seem so far out of the realm of possibility for the psychotic eugenic-freak nazis, Falcon?” You asked, and he shuddered visibly, “I wasn’t trained the same way as the Widows, or the other Soldiers. I didn’t need to be. I was just a broodmare, and the Winter Soldier was to be my eighteenth birthday present. Shame they didn’t put a bow on him.”

Zemo squeezed his eyes closed in your periphery, his jaw clenched tightly, and you took pity on the men who were clearly struggling with this reveal. Sam’s fury was evident, his whole being like an exposed nerve upon which his last remaining vestiges of control were barely a bandaid. The Baron, however, kept himself far more under wraps than the other two. There were signs, of course, to his discomfort, but he restrained himself in a way that Sam and Bucky both were incapable of.

“I’m still… God, pleasantly surprised sounds terrible, but it was a shock that they waited until you were eighteen. I… I still have nightmares about that day. And only partially because you tried to bite my throat out.” Bucky said, trying to sound playful on that last part despite the trauma you were all discussing. He didn’t quite achieve the tone he was trying to set, and you gave him a serious look, bordering on sympathy.

“Tried? James, I nearly got your jugular. You had to go into surgery immediately, that’s the only reason they stopped the whole thing.” You reminded him, and he shrugged, clearly thinking he deserved it, “Enough about me. Tell me what brings three of the four horsemen to my doorstep.”

Barnes huffed a breath through his nose at the reference, but Sam stepped in to show you the video from Torres and explain the Flagsmashers to you. You hummed along appropriately, considering his words as he described the truck fight to you, and explained who the hell John Walker was when he came up. When Sam was done, you turned your gaze to the man who’d kidnapped you so many years ago and narrowed your eyes, dubious rather than angry.

“You come to my home bringing death and destruction to my doorstep, Barnes. Why? You think you’re enough to bring me into the light? I have weathered much darker storms, Soldat. I have kept to myself while your so called Avengers ripped themselves and each other apart. Why do you think I will join you now to squash this little resistance? All that your friends have done is raise the bar for sinister minds. I am not like you, James, I never wanted this. I never wanted to be a soldier, or to save the world. I wanted to be a gardener. I had such… Lofty aspirations. As if my hands can do anything now but destroy.”

You stood as you finished your tirade, eerily calm as you walked towards the kitchen, giving the men space. For your safety and theirs. You placed a box of your favourite tea on the counter, examining your kitchen for anything you would want to bring with you if you decided to accept.

“The people who have this serum are dangerous, doll. We don’t know how many there are, what their plan is, and how bad things will get. I need backup. I need someone who can withstand a fight against them, or this might go south.” Barnes explained as best as he could, “You’re hiding here, barely living. I get it. But you deserve better. If you help us, we can back you up against whatever remnants of HYDRA are left if they come for you. You could live a better life.”

You scoffed, splaying your hands out on the countertop to brace yourself as you considered your choices.

In the end, you think it must’ve been inevitable. What else could you have done?

Music pounds in your ears as you walk through a crowd towards the bar, your arm delicately linked with that of the Baron. No one knew you here despite your brief stint while you were roaming the world aimlessly in an attempt at getting away from your past, and having you as backup that blended in rather than outwardly dressed as a soldier was the best choice, according to Zemo. You weren’t sure you’d be much help at all - after years in the quiet of the woods by yourself, the bar was overwhelming at best. But, Zemo had been confident when he presented you with a dress that you were certain despite knowing very little about dresses that must have cost a fortune, and told you your role. Tonight, you would be arm candy. It had taken ages to get yourself groomed enough to pass as anything but a wild woman, but you had to admit as you admired yourself in the mirror that you did clean up well.

Despite knowing he is more of a threat than he appears - evident in the bulge of his bicep against your arm if nothing else - the man is a comforting presence. His grip on your waist is possessively tight as he guides you in front of him at the bar, caging you in with his body. His nose bumps against your ear and you shiver as he whispers against it.

“What would you like to drink, schatz?”

“Whiskey, please, Baron.” You say back, louder than he had asked you, looking at the bartender through your lashes. He hums a response, greeting Sam and asking for his drink order while he pours a shot for Zemo. You watch over the rim of your glass as Sam struggles with his repulsive drink, distracted by the soft stroking of Zemo’s hand over your stomach, and his lips against your neck. Something about having constant, roving contact with him is making it easier to tune out every other overstimulating input in the bar. You wonder if he planned it this way, or if he’s simply putting on a show. You can feel Bucky glaring at him, but the Baron seems nonplussed by the Winter Soldier’s ire.

You aren't a huge fan of physical contact, but Zemo had quietly explained his plan to you on the plane ride to Madripoor, and cleared what he might have to do to enforce your role with you. It was far more than you expected from the man, but the consideration was worthwhile in making you trust him at least a little. You had a safe word, which had been a new concept to you that Zemo had surprisingly patiently explained while studiously ignoring the way that Barnes glared daggers at his back. You weren't entirely sure what James' problem was with Zemo and you specifically, but you were putting it down to either base male ego due to the fact that you were intended for him (a gross concept) or protective instinct (less gross, but unnecessary). Or both, perhaps. He was only human, after all.

The Sokovian had done a good job of pretending that Barnes didn't exist, focused entirely on you as he explained that he may have to touch you quite intimately, and likely would have to kiss you. Selby was a woman who delighted in the obscene at times, and had a taste for pretty things. She might demand a show of perversion to prove you weren't a spy while simultaneously getting her rocks off. You gave him permission to do what he had to do, and promised that after the events were over, you would check in with him privately. You had to admit, you were impressed by his genuine show of concern, and the amount of effort he was putting into establishing consent and trust with you.

Even now, he kept his body between yours and anyone else's in a way that protected your personal space but seemed possessive to the outward eye. A man approaches Zemo from behind, telling him that the message from above is that he isn't welcome, and you splay your hands across his stomach to brace him, staring up into his eyes to see if he needs you. He speaks to the man calmly, and you slip your hand under his shirt to trace along his ribs, your gaze moving between your date for the night and the man ‘interrupting’ it like you were simply an impatient girl. The man leaves, and you listen as Zemo explains the power broker, pausing briefly and switching to Russian as a hand clasps around his shoulder.

"Winter Soldier. Attack."

The man is swiftly removed, and you watch around Zemo's shoulder as Barnes goes on the attack, your arms slipping around the Baron's waist in a way that he clearly approves of from the rumble he lets out, and the hand that covers yours to hold you in place. He’s smirking as he watches the fight, and you scoff as he pushes another body at Bucky before making a snarky comment to Sam about how little it took for him to fall back into form. Like it wasn’t his fault. You roll your eyes, pressing closer to the Baron as if trying to watch the fight, and using that closeness to whisper in his ear,

“Try to enjoy this a little less, Baron. You’re being too obvious. S’a flimsy basis for the wedge you’re trying to drive.”

You feel him shiver against you, and his honey eyes find yours over his shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Apologies, häschen.”

Soon enough, the violence ends and you are brought back to meet Selby, letting the Baron guide you into his lap as if you belonged there. A large, warm hand closes around the meat of your thigh, just under the hem of your dress, and you watch Selby's eyes track the movement with a hunger that makes you squirm against the man beneath you. Barnes and Sam watch with disapproval on their faces, though they snap back into character swiftly enough it goes unnoticed. The Baron gives you two squeezes, and you settle, draping yourself back against his chest with your head on his shoulder, face tucked demurely into his neck.

"She's a pretty thing, isn't she? New pet, Zemo? Last I heard you were in a German lockup. How'd you get out, and how'd you get a sweet little thing like that so quickly?" Selby asks, and Zemo laughs.

"People like us will always find a way." He remarks, "As for this little häschen... she hopped her way to me when she found out I was free, like a good little girl."

Selby's gaze digs into you, and you lift your head from Zemo's shoulder to trail kisses along his jaw, murmuring a quiet 'Hel, baby, I'm bored.' against his skin. You say it just loud enough to be heard, and you can see Selby out of the corner of your eye, her eyes glued to your thighs as if staring hard enough would make them open. You pointedly ignore the stirring you feel beneath you, knowing he’s only a man and at that, a man who’d been imprisoned for eight long years. It probably has nothing to do with you. The conversation continues around you as Zemo offers Selby the Winter Soldier in exchange for information about the super soldier serum, and you do your job well despite having no experience to draw on beyond the seconds the Winter Soldier had his hands on you before you nearly tore his throat out with your teeth. The Baron shivers as you kiss along his jugular, stopping briefly mid-sentence to squeeze your thigh with one hand while the other grips your hair and pulls you back.

“Häschen, I am working. You will wait.” He reprimands you gently, nipping your lower lip when you pout dramatically. Liquid fire floods your veins, and you have to clench your thighs to temporarily quell the burn even though you know he’ll feel it and probably know why.

“Give the girl a bone, Baron, she’s clearly gagging for it.” Selby commands, and you know from her tone that you’ve ignited her. Zemo glances at Selby briefly before sliding his hand further up under your dress, his fingertips skimming across your cunt. He gives you a startled look when he realises you’ve forgone wearing underwear, but masks it quickly before Selby could notice. You’re mortified to find that you’re soaked, and he can definitely feel it. He knows. The little hitch in his breath at the realisation makes your cunt throb.

“I’ve been trying to teach her patience, Selby. You know how easily a brat is born without a firm hand.” He reminds her somewhat playfully, and Selby smirks as she watches him spread your legs a little. It’s embarrassing to know she can see you, and she is shameless about tilting her head to take a long look, but you knew it was a possibility and you didn’t blame him for it. You try for an eager look instead of nervous, but yelp as Zemo’s hand slaps your cunt with a loud and worryingly wet-sounding smack, “She will get what she wants when she earns it.”

Something in that makes you sigh, and Zemo lets out a soft breath of a laugh, catching your lips in a kiss that sends fire through your veins. Your first kiss, somehow at 32, and it’s all a bit of a game. At least it’s a good one, the Baron’s soft lips moving gently against yours, guiding you to respond to him as his hand cups your jaw. His thumb traces over your cheek, tongue slipping past your lips to taste you, and you try desperately to make it seem like you aren’t as inexperienced as you are.

“Now that you’ve had your fun-” Selby begins as you part, leaving a string of saliva connecting you, only to be interrupted by the buzzing of Sam’s cellphone. You close your eyes, biting your cheek to restrain any noise of frustration, then shift in Zemo’s lap as if nothing is wrong at all while you survey the room for all aggressors and exits.

“Answer it. On speaker.”

Sam does, and you listen with a roll of your eyes as the man has a conversation with his sister. Strong hands hold you as the tension in the room mounts, until Sarah says her brother’s name, and the jig is up. Fortunately, Selby is swiftly assassinated. Unfortunately, Selby is now dead, and it appears as if it is your fault. Walking the streets of Madripoor’s Lowtown knowing that a bounty is likely already set on your head with the dings of phones all around you as the soundtrack of your departure is, you find, a great way to raise your blood pressure.

As all hell breaks loose, Zemo drags you in the opposite direction as Sam and Bucky, and you let him despite the obvious warning signals. You’re touched by how protective he acts, tucking you behind him when someone gets into your path. He efficiently takes out a man with a handgun, pilfering it from his body and leading you through several alleyways until you meet up with Sam and Bucky just as their pursuers are executed.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Zemo remarks to the two men, and you hum, keen ears picking up the crunch of boots just as Sharon Carter rounds into the alley with you all.

“Well this is too perfect.” She chimes, gun pointed directly at the Baron instead of Sam or Bucky. Instinct flares, and you move before you can rethink your actions, one hand clasping around her wrist to remove the gun while the other jabs sharply into her elbows to buckle her arms and stop her from being able to immediately retaliate. You turn the gun on her, grip confident as you step out of her reach.

“Who the fuck are you?” She asks, sneering as you place yourself between her and Zemo. She shifts as if trying to get an angle on him, and you mirror her effortlessly, eyebrow raised as you wait for her next move.

“You do not need to know.” You reply, tuning out the world to listen to her heart pound.

“What are you, Zemo’s new guard dog?”

You smirk. The Baron’s gaze sits heavy between your shoulders, and you wonder at his expression. Barnes and Wilson’s are less difficult to imagine.

“Woof.”

Sam and Bucky intervene to explain the situation, and you take the gun from Zemo before the others can demand it, surprised that he lets you so easily. His eyes burrow into you, and you tilt your head nearly in time with him, both of you attempting to understand each other as in the background, Sharon offers you all a place to stay in Hightown. As the boys negotiate with Sharon for her cooperation, you duck into the bathroom to clean up, pulling up the skirt of your dress. There are bruises on your thighs already, your healing factor taking you through the process faster than any human body could. More worrying to you is how wet you are. It’s not as if you don’t understand what is happening - you have a lack of experience, not knowledge - and it’s not as if you’ve never touched yourself. Unfortunately, your night isn’t over, and the cause of your apparent arousal was waiting in the other room. You’d pointed a gun at the proprietor of the house for him less than an hour prior. The instinct to protect was strong in you - it always has been, and apparently, you wanted to protect Zemo. Why? Because he had been kind to you?

You breathe out a heavy sigh, cleaning yourself up liberally before you head back into the other room, and you catch Zemo’s eyes darkening as he looks upon you. At first, you’re uncertain why, until you see his gaze flicker down to your pelvis and you remember that he’s the only one in the room aware that you aren’t wearing underwear. You bite your lip, hoping perhaps that he’ll forget or misunderstand how wet you were. You think you might die if he brings it up.

“Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay out of trouble and I’ll see what I can find.” Sharon says as she heads upstairs, and Zemo smirks as he shrugs, one hand open palmed in faux innocence while the other grips his tumbler of whiskey.

“Trouble?”

You have to give it to Sharon, she definitely knows how to throw a party.

You move through the crowd as the beat pounds in your ears, dodging drunken party goers with a supernatural alacrity gifted to you by the serum. The blue neons cast a surprisingly attractive light across the crowd, and you watch with growing amusement as Sam flirts with a girl while pretending to examine a gorgeous Monet. Bucky tries to get you to stay close to him, but you dip under his arm and continue on your path to the bar, ignoring the way he calls after you. A shot glass is slid into your hand moments after you smell him approaching. Warm and musky and delicious, with traces of leather and old books lingering on the edges of your awareness.

“We should talk.” The Baron murmurs, and you nod despite wanting to run, turning to him to find yourself once more caged between his body and the bar. You take a breath, clenching your thighs again as he examines your expression like he’s dissecting you.

“When the night is over, as promised, we will talk.” You reply, taking the shot easily after clinking it against his glass. He raises his glass to you, then takes the shot as if it isn't even alcohol, keeping his eyes on you. In this light, they’re more chocolate than honey, but no less expressive. You wonder if he’s getting drunk - your tolerance is better than any human’s, and you’re not sure how much it takes someone who isn’t a super soldier to begin to feel it - since he’s now on his third or fourth drink at the very least tonight.

“My room or yours?” Zemo asks, and you consider it before offering him a faint shrug.

“Yours will do. I can’t promise Buck won’t be trying to break my door down for an unnecessary heart-to-heart.”

The Baron smirks, and you lean up to kiss his cheek as you slip past him, feeling him lean into it but not letting yourself dwell on it, “Have some fun, Zemo. I’ll come find you in a little bit. Be safe.”

“Tell me you’re seeing what I’m seeing.” Sam mutters to you, and you hum, looking away from the painting Bucky is showing you to follow the other man’s gaze. It doesn’t take long for either super soldier to spot what has caught his attention, and you stifle a laugh, pushing at Sam’s shoulder playfully. Bucky’s snort and subsequent coughing on his drink makes your laughter break through, and you end up gripping Sam’s shirt for stability as you try to get a hold of yourself.

“He’s a rich boy, Sam, I’m sure you’d look much the same if you tried your hand at a slow waltz.” You tease, drawing a chuckle from Barnes. He leans closer to you, hand sweeping over your lower back in what you’re sure is probably a platonic way, but still gives you the heebie-jeebies as he reminds you that you don’t need to defend the Baron. His lips are too close to your ear, and he’s looking at you too intensely for you to handle despite his playful smile. You turn your back to Zemo to look at both Bucky and Sam, stepping out of the former Winter Soldier’s reach.

“So, who’s gonna go save him from himself and show him how to actually dance? Any takers? Consider it charity work if it makes you feel better.” You grin at them, your tone playful despite how tense you are, and Sam snorts.

“How d’you know how to dance? You’re basically a homeschool kid on steroids.”

That draws a genuine laugh from you, and you shrug your shoulders as you begin backing towards the Baron, decision made.

“I spent years roaming Europe and at least a month clubbing here in Madripoor, Sam. I may not have experience in a lot of things, but dancing is definitely not one of them. You keep Buck here unmolested by the masses, and I’ll handle our Baron.” You tease.

“Yeah, you’ll handle him alright. Gross.” Sam retorts mostly under his breath, only audible to you due to your enhanced hearing. You’re laughing as you approach Zemo, and you boldly slide an arm around his waist from behind as you press yourself up against his back, grinning as he startles. He twists to face you, and his smile is more open - genuine - as he takes you in. You’re not sure if he’s just decided he likes you, or if he’s a little tipsy.

“You’ve never danced like this before, Baron.” You state plainly, and he laughs, almost bashful but not quite as he shrugs his broad shoulders.

“Perhaps not, but I am enjoying myself.” He retorts, letting you guide him until his hips are pressing into yours, winding with the music in a way that can’t possibly be anything but intimate. You’re not sure why it’s so easy for you to touch and be touched by Zemo, when Bucky laying a hand on you sends shivers down your spine, but you don’t want to think on that too heavily right now under the blue neon lights and the pulsing of the music. As the crowd closes in around you, you move with them, all the while guiding Zemo through it. He’s observant, and he learns quickly, watching the rest of the crowd move until finally he feels confident. You grin as he presses against your back, his arm looping around your waist slowly enough that you could escape it if you so desired. His chin brushes your shoulder, and you’re tempted to look at him to see what he’s looking at, but you get distracted by a man who had been approaching you until he froze a couple feet away. You tilt your head curiously as he turns around and walks the other way, but Zemo’s mouth brushes against the back of your neck, and you scoff as you put two and two together.

“Protective or possessive, Baron?” You ask him boldly, and he smiles against your skin as if he isn’t surprised by the question at all.

“Oh, I believe both should cover it, schatzi.” he replies, guiding you towards the bar with a gentle hand on your back, “You don’t like when people touch you, even if you like them well enough. You flinched when Sharon touched your arm to apologise for her presumed insult, you shy away from Sam even though you laugh and smile with him often, and I don’t think I need to begin to touch on your avoidance of Barnes. I appear to be exempt from that, however I didn’t think he would be. I apologise if I was presumptuous.”

You order a drink for the both of you, as well as a shot each, laughing to yourself despite being a little touched by his observance.

“No, you’re not sorry. You know you were presumptuous, you’re just banking on the fact that you’re right. And now, when I tell you you are, it will reinforce your behaviour in the future.” You inform him, letting him cage you against the bar for the third time this night, “Fortunately, I’m okay with your presumptuousness, in this circumstance.”

Zemo clinks his shot against yours, and you both take them together, laughing when you spot an incredulous Sam and a frustrated Bucky staring directly at you. His metal arm is tense, hand fisted, and you’re glad he isn’t holding on to anything because it would most certainly be crushed by now. You give them a cheeky wave, and have to bite back your snicker when Zemo, seemingly noticing their attention, pulls you tighter to him so he can press his smug little smirk into the curve of your neck.

“You’re going to get yourself attacked soon, you know?” You ask in a sing-song voice, and he chuckles against your skin, collecting his drink and letting you lead him through the rows of stolen artwork. He lets you take his hand and squeezes gently, keeping no more than a step behind you the whole way.

“I’m certain I can handle it.” He retorts, and you laugh for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. You can’t remember the last time you laughed so much. You can’t remember the last time your life felt so full.

“Man, you really are trouble, aren’t you Baron?”

‘Interogating’ Nagel is a complete shitshow. You don’t blame Zemo for what he did, despite Sam and Bucky’s endless irritation. Nagel was smart enough to recreate and refine the super soldier serum, and he had to be stopped. He worked for HYDRA. You hadn’t had the chance to ask, but you were sure he easily could’ve been involved in the project that created you. He was the type who would never stop, no matter what got in his way - this was his life’s work. He was the type who would keep recreating it and refining it until he made even worse monsters than he already had.

You were just thankful that Zemo dragged you out with him before the second explosion, even if you would’ve been fine with the others. You didn’t have a gun, and a firefight would have been less than ideal, though you knew you could handle it. The Baron takes down several men while wearing a purple mask before you could even try to help him, and you roll your eyes as you follow him through the rows of shipping containers until he finds a car that makes his eyes light up. You can’t help a fond smile as he helps you into the passenger seat as if you need it, and you kick your feet up onto the dash. He offers you a surprisingly boyish grin, and you don’t feel any inclination to move away when his gloved hand closes around your thigh through your jeans, giving you a gentle squeeze that sears through you. You close your hand around his, and his gaze burns through you as he starts to drive, only looking away when he absolutely has to.

You’re going to die if he doesn’t tuck that stupid lock of hair out of his face.

Following the trail to Karli Morgenthau to Riga was simple with the use of Zemo’s jet, but you didn’t know the trials and tribulations that awaited you when you made it to his home in Latvia. While Bucky went on a walk to be sneaky, the Baron gave you and Sam a tour of his house, which you were kind of in love with. The style of the house was stunning, and you found yourself looking around excitedly for the next subtle detail that would catch your eye. Sam was quick to agree when Zemo offered you one of the three bedrooms to stay in by yourself, claiming the master as expected, and leaving the third to Sam and James. Then, he told you you could wear any clothing you found, that the second bathroom had a shower if you needed it, and departed into the master to clean up.

Sam gave you the honour first, and you tried to be efficient with your time, turning the water up just on the right side of too hot while you scrubbed yourself down. Once you were done, you dressed in a large purple dress shirt paired with a stolen pair of boxers that covered up enough of your thighs to be decent.

Now, sitting in the living room watching Zemo in his navy silk robe as he moved confidently around the kitchen, you wish you would’ve chosen anything else. When he first saw you, his eyes had burned into you. Now, you had three pairs of eyes on you for very different reasons, and you wanted to punch someone in the mouth. Sam’s gaze is a bit disdainful, since he detests Zemo and finds it incredibly uncomfortable that you don’t. Zemo looks equal parts smug and starving, which you wouldn’t mind so much if it weren’t for James glaring between the two of you like you’d both insulted him. His glare was softer on you, sure, but it was still uncomfortable when he had no right to be upset with you for wearing clean clothes. It wasn’t your fault that they’d rushed you out of your house when you agreed to help, and you’d only packed a couple of outfits.

As the boys discuss Karli, you find yourself lost in thought. What was your endgame, here? The Flagsmashers had attacked the GRC (who could all get fucked if you were being honest) instead of simply stealing from them, blowing up a building with several people still inside. There was a death toll now. That changed things. You could sympathise with Morgenthau, but you weren’t at all comfortable with her possession of the super soldier serum - both the vials of it, and that which ran through her and her companions' veins. At this point, she seemed to be escalating, and there was nothing worse than the escalation of a being with unnatural abilities. Power corrupts, and it was beginning to corrupt her if it hadn’t already warped her mind.

The Baron rants about the serum, and Karli, and you sigh as you hop up onto the counter. Sam wants to save Karli, you know it, and you’re sad for him. You know she won’t give up, no matter the cost. Nothing could outweigh her aspirations at this point. Hopefully, speaking to her at Danya’s funeral would help, but you were aware it was equally as likely to feed Karli’s anger as it was her compassion. Your eyes track the turkish delight that Zemo tosses to Sam and you have to restrain a grin at the way he says ‘Titi’.

“Zemo is right. Karli is dangerous. It’s worth trying to speak to her to see if she can be reasoned with, but you can’t hold out too much hope, Sam. It’ll break your heart when she fails you. And she will.”

Zemo gestures to you in agreement, and you hum as he plucks a turkish delight from the dish, reaching for it. To Sam and Bucky’s disgust, he unwraps it for you, and you open your mouth obediently for it even though you might’ve normally protested. Bugging Sam and James was beginning to become a sport.

“Come on, man.” Sam grumbles under his breath as you lick the sugar from the Baron’s fingertips, and you flip him off blindly, grinning around the sweet treat. Zemo’s eyes are all molten chocolate as he watches you chew.

“Okay, you know what? I’m starving. I’m getting food. Buck, c’mon. If she wants to spend her time with the Baron, we might as well let her keep an eye on him, and get ourselves some time without him.” Sam remarks, slapping Bucky’s arm, and the two depart while you shout over your shoulder for them to bring dinner home for you. Once they’re gone, Zemo raises an eyebrow at you.

“We didn’t get to talk.” He reminds you, and you nod, “I would like to. Have I made you uncomfortable?”

You shake your head, and he examines your expression for honesty before continuing, “I hoped Selby wouldn’t take an interest in you. I apologise for… groping you the way I did. I hope I did not cause you undue discomfort. Thank you, for disarming Miss Carter when she pointed the gun at me in Madripoor.”

Shrugging, you lean towards him a little, trying to read his face despite feeling as if you know what he wants.

“Her interest made her ask fewer questions. You don’t have to apologise for touching me - you asked permission before the mission, and I enjoyed it, as I’m sure you’re aware. I know that Sam and Barnes don’t trust you, but I trust what I know of you - you’ve gone out of your way to establish consent with me when you didn’t have to, you’ve protected me despite the serum that pumps through my veins, and I know you want to put an end to the Flagsmashers if only because they chose their fate. I don’t agree with everything you’ve done, Zemo, but I… I like who you are, and I can understand your choices even if I don’t approve of them.” You explain, rolling your lip over your teeth, and he moves a little closer to you.

“Helmut.” He murmurs, and you smile, watching as he drops a hand to your knee to see if you’ll protest, “I would like it if you would call me Helmut.”

“Not Hel?” You ask playfully, grinning as his grip tightens, pulling you to the edge of the counter as he steps between your legs.

“If you want to feel the softness of my bed while I reclaim my stolen clothes, by all means.” Zemo replies, and your pupils dilate as you consider the possibilities. The consequences. He’s so close, and you clench your knees around his hips, drawing a soft gasp from his lips. You swallow it, cupping his cheeks in your hands as your lips press against his. It takes very little effort for Zemo to lift you into his arms, and he carries you to the master bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him so he can drop you on his bed in privacy. He wouldn’t put it past Barnes or Sam to interrupt them on purpose.

“You weren’t kidding - this is way softer than the bed you gave me, Hel.” You tease, and he chuckles as he crawls over you, pressing you back into the sheets. He doesn’t hover over you like you might’ve thought he would. Instead, he lays mostly on top of you, hips against yours, and you feel smothered by him in the best way possible. He kisses you softly at first, but his passion grows as you respond fiercely, your hands gliding through his hair to get a good grip.

“Have you done this before, liebling?” He asks quietly, hushed with the intimacy of the closeness between you. You shake your head, locking your legs around his hips as you comb your fingers through his hair.

“When I was… before I escaped, they made the Winter Soldier pin me to my bed and… he was about to put it inside, so I leaned up and bit his neck as hard as I could. Since then, I haven’t had much desire. I danced a lot at clubs around Europe and in Madripoor when I was running from HYDRA before I found my cabin, to get used to people, but I never… I never indulged. You were my first kiss.” You admit, curling his hair around your fingers, and you can see the way his pupils dilate at that. He captures your lips again, and you feel the rumble of his moan against you, bringing a smile to your lips.

“Do you have a purity kink, Helmut?” You ask with a giggle, and he nips at your collarbone, grinding his hips into you.

“Perhaps. I hadn’t thought of it before,” He admits breathlessly, pausing to suck a dark mark into your neck, “I like the idea of being the only man to have you.”

Warm hands slowly unbutton the shirt you’re wearing, and you lay your head back with a gasp as your Baron’s lips trail kisses down over every inch of exposed skin. He smirks against your sternum, murmuring sweetness in Sokovian that has you sighing and tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I understand you, you know?” You whisper, and he blinks up at you as you’ve cut him off in the middle of waxing poetic about the size and shape of your breasts. He raises an eyebrow, tweaking your nipple between his fingers and biting down gently on the curve of your breast.

“I know, liebling. I can feel you tremble as you burn for me.”

You grab at his robe in retaliation, shoving it down over his shoulders insistently while he simultaneously tries to get his stolen boxers off of you. It doesn’t go very well for either of you, so he sits back out of reach to take off his robe for you, leaving himself in only a pair of boxers similar to the ones you’re wearing. Your fingertips rake through his chest hair as he crawls over you, and he sighs at the feeling, pulling your legs around him. In one easy movement, he pulls you up into his lap, one hand holding your lower back while the other strips his shirt from you. He kisses you slowly, sliding his hands into your boxers to grasp at your ass, squeezing as he pushes your hips together so you can feel how much he wants you.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” Zemo whispers against your lips, forcing himself to part from you despite how much he’d rather not. He kisses along your neck as he waits for you to answer, thumbs stroking over your nipples as he grinds against you.

“I’m inexperienced, Hel, I’m not dead.” You retort with a laugh, gripping his hair, “You feel bigger than the toys I’ve used though.”

That draws a hum from your Baron, and he lays you back on the bed, hooking his fingers in your boxers so he can drag them down your legs to toss them behind him. You look down at the tent in his boxers, wetting your lips and slowly spreading your legs for him, letting him take a good long look at what he has done to you. A low groan slips from his lips and he skims his hands up your thighs to soothe the tremble in them.

“I won’t hurt you, schatz.” He reminds you, gentle but serious, and you nod to say you know and understand. You glance at his boxers again, and he follows your gaze, quickly realising what you want. You watch as he shuffles out of the tight fabric, tossing it off the side of the bed and giving you a chance to stare at him. You’ve seen a cock before from a distance, but your only other close-up experience hadn’t put you in a position to see anything and while the Winter Soldier was being taken away by medical staff, you were unable to see anything, too busy with the taste of blood and flesh in your mouth. It didn’t help that one of the scientists took it upon himself to backhand you as punishment for your act of self-defence, sending you reeling.

Helmut Zemo is a gifted man. You can’t help but stare as he gives his cock a couple slow strokes to ease his discomfort, thumb stroking over the head to collect his precum to ease the glide. He’s bigger than you expected, thick enough that you aren’t sure how he’s going to fit, and long enough that you know he’s going to bump against your cervix with every thrust. You swallow hard, mentally trying to compare his cock to the toys you’ve used in the past, and trembling as you realise he’s easily twice as thick.

Sensing your panic, Zemo crawls onto the bed with you, covering you with his body again as he presses kisses to your lips. Your legs wrap almost instinctively around his waist, but he doesn’t try to take advantage of the position, focusing on intimacy instead of quick pleasures.

“Relax, liebling. I’m right here. I have you.” he murmurs as he nuzzles against your cheek, and you let out a breathy sigh, clutching at his back. He strokes his hands up and down over your sides until you relax under his touch, then begins a slow trail of kisses down your chest and stomach. You sigh as you realise what he’s doing, and your head falls back against the pillows before his lips even manage to make contact with the wet, aching heat of your cunt. His hands close around your thighs from below, pushing them up and apart as he plants a kiss against you, then swipes the flat of his tongue up through your cunt all the way up to flick across your clit. You shudder, and he holds you a little tighter, delving in with soft licks and sucking kisses that have you grabbing at the sheets beneath you.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you whimper his name as he swirls his tongue around your clit then sucks it into his mouth, his eyes dark as night as he stares up at you to watch your face. Every move is calculated, running off of your reactions and looking to draw out more, desperate to feel you fall apart for him. It isn’t until his fingers gently prod at your entrance that you feel anything but pleasure. A small spike of fear, soothed by a gentle kiss to your tummy that feels unexpectedly sweet.

One finger, and then a second fill you, but you feel no pain. It’s about the same girth as the toy you’ve used, but no toy has ever been able to stroke across that spot inside of you with such surgical precision. His lips close around your clit, and you let out a cry as the dual sensations overwhelm you, trying your damnedest not to yank on his hair though you’re sure you fail since he grunts against you. There is nothing urgent or rushed about this - this is a slow, methodical dismantling of every rational thought, every worry, every fear you’ve ever had. This is a reconstruction on a spiritual level, replacing worries with pleasure, and fears with happiness, and thoughts with need.

You realise as you have the thought to tell Zemo how good he’s making you feel that there’s certainly no question about it. You didn’t even notice how much noise you were making, the soft whines and moans falling from your lips completely unrestrained, and it’s as if you zone back into your surroundings only to have them wiped away. A crook of your Baron’s fingers and a particularly hard suck on your clit have you tossing your head back against the pillows and shouting his name, “Baron!” and “Helmut!” in equal measure.

You return to yourself again to find yourself cradled in your Baron’s arms, his nose nuzzling gently against your cheekbone as he strokes your back, your thighs clenched around his hips as he presses you bodily into the mattress. You blink, and he smiles at the sight of you, dipping down for a gentle kiss that makes you tremble.

“Oh.” You whisper, and he laughs softly.

“Are you okay, schatz? Do you need a minute?” Helmut asks. You shake your head urgently, tangling your fingers in his hair so you can pull him into a kiss that has him moaning into your mouth. You chase the taste of yourself, tongue sliding across his, then part with a gasp.

“I need you.” You whisper, and he groans against your lips, grinding his hips into yours.

“You have me.” He promises, pushing himself up a little so he can take himself in hand and press the head of his cock against your desperate cunt.

“Now, Hel. Don’t make me wait.”

His groan reverberates through you as he pushes inside, inch by inch, carving his way through your insides. By the time he bottoms out, you’re panting for breath, clinging to his back as he presses his chest to yours. The closeness soothes you, and keeps you from digging in your nails.

“Fuck.” You moan, and he groans in response, nodding against your shoulder.

“You’re so tight, schatz, you’re strangling my cock.” He murmurs without a hint of complaint in his tone. You don’t think you’ll ever be ready when he finally starts to pull out, but his next thrust drives the breath from your lungs, and you sob, tears in your eyes from the pleasure. He kisses them away so gently that you nearly want to cry again, whispering to you about how beautiful you are, how perfect you feel around him, and how desperately he needs you to be his.

“I am!” You proclaim, and he groans his approval, catching your lips in a kiss that sends fire racing through your veins. His pace has been brutally slow so far, but he begins to move faster now, each thrust driving him in to the hilt. It feels like punishment. It feels like atoning. It feels like rebirth. It feels like a new beginning without the fear that’s kept you trapped in the woods all by yourself for so many years you felt like giving up. Blunt teeth clamp around your neck and you shudder, tilting your head back to bare more of it to him.

“Mine.” He mutters around your skin, and you nod frantically.

“Yours. And you’re mine, Helmut. My Baron. I won’t give you back.” You insist, and his laugh is broken by a groan. By the time he releases his hold on you, you’ve got a fresh bruise darkening on your throat.

“You may have to, schatz. Your friends don’t want me out of prison.” He reminds you softly even as he shatters you into pieces, each thrust breaking you apart and putting you back together again. You clutch him tighter to you like somehow, in the shattering and reassembling, he can become part of you. Pressure builds inside of you until you feel fit to explode.

“F-Fuck them.” You growl, and he reaches between you to stroke your clit, gritting his teeth. He groans - nearly growls - as he comes, filling you to the brim and fucking it in deeper with his next couple of thrusts. The heat sends you reeling, and you choke on a gasp as your orgasm breaks across you like a tsunami, washing you clean.

Laying together, panting for breath under your Baron’s sturdy weight, you realise the choice you’ve made for yourself. He’s gentle as he pulls out of you, stroking your legs to make sure you aren’t too stiff, and reaching for his towel to clean you up.

“Perhaps, showering after this might have been a wiser choice.” He murmurs, and you shake your head.

“No, clean was nice, I would’ve been self conscious otherwise. This was perfect. I’ll shower again if I have to.”

That draws a soft laugh from Zemo’s lips, and he curls around you, nuzzling his face into your neck, “Do you need anything from me?”

You contemplate his question for a moment, then hum softly to yourself, nodding.

“Just hold me a little longer. I promise I’ll get up soon.”

Helmut rolls his eyes, pressing kisses along the line of your shoulder as he strokes his hands down over your body.

“You’re in no rush, liebling. We have time.”

You sigh, because you know that you really don’t.

You’re reminded that Baron Helmut Zemo had a child before you as well as a wife when he interacts with the children in Riga. You overhear him speaking to them, and acknowledge them with a nod when he gestures to you and tells them you’re safe too. You know this will likely come back to bite you, but you let Zemo play his games. He’s got a plan, clearly, and you’re happy enough to go along with it. At least someone has one.

Ever since Sam and Bucky got back to the house, they’ve been giving you odd looks, and you can see the judgement in their eyes. You aren’t quite sure if they think you’re too stupid to know yourself and have just been wrapped up in Zemo’s sugary lies, or if they think you’ve switched sides somehow, but either way it’s beginning to get on your nerves. You aren’t a child, and you’re not stupid. You know when someone is lying to you, and you don’t sense mistruths or even manipulation from your Baron.

As Zemo leads you back into the house with Bucky and Sam, the argument starts up again. Sam believes in Karli’s goodness, while Bucky is being more practical. You roll your eyes as you sit beside Sam, and Zemo admits that he knows where the funeral for Donya will be.

“Keep talking.” Bucky snaps, and you breath out a heavy sigh. Like that’ll ever happen.

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.” Zemo replies simply. You watch as Bucky stands, grabbing Zemo’s glass and tossing it at the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” He asks, and you plant your feet loudly, startling both men.

“Simmer down before I fucking make you.” You snap, while Sam gets up to stop Bucky.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” The leveller head says, drawing a snort from you, “Let me make a call.”

You roll your eyes, holding your hand out for a cup.

“You need to stop antagonising them. I don’t want to have to hurt them, Helmut.”

The arrival of John Walker throws a wrench in things. The new Captain America with everything to prove is not a stable resource, and you want nothing to do with him. As he approaches, all ramped up to 11 like it's his new state of being, you put yourself between him and Zemo.

“This better be an unbelievable explanation-”

“Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.” Sam insists, his gaze flicking to you, and you tilt your head innocently as if you’ve no idea what he means.

“I know where Karli is.” Zemo explains, beginning to move past Walker. John puts a hand on Zemo’s chest, and you grab it before it can make contact, holding onto him tightly.

“Well whe-”

“Awww, ain’t this romantic?” You ask teasingly, giving him a gentle shove out of Zemo’s way. He scowls at you, and you let him go to slip by with your Baron.

“All we know is, it’s a memorial.” Sam continues behind you, and you ignore the argument as Walker tries to ‘reason’ with Sam. Thank God for Lemar, as he seems to be the only thing keeping Walker in line.

“We’ll deal with you later.” Walker states firmly, pointing first to Zemo, and then you.

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.” Zemo replies, and you walk with him towards the little girl he’d been speaking to about Donya’s funeral. She leads you into a building, and you growl as Walker pushes Zemo, handcuffing him to a metal furnace door. Bucky hooks his arms under your armpits to stop you from fighting back, and you kick your legs out to smack against Walker’s stupid shield, running up his back and flipping over Barnes. He fights to get ahold of you, throwing you to the ground finally when you keep getting loose.

“Hey, you’ve got ten minutes-” Walker shouts after Sam.

“Really?” Zemo asks as he tests his handcuffs. His gaze finds you, checking you’re alright before looking back at John Walker.

“-then we’re going things my way.” The new Captain America finishes, making you roll your eyes.

“Aggressive.” Helmut comments, and you snort, “but I get it.”

You eye the handcuffs, but Zemo shakes his head, and you sigh.

“So, who the fuck is this?” John asks, and Bucky shakes his head.

“She’s none of your fucking business, Walker. Don’t look at her.”

Lemar and John both put their hands up, brows raised as they examine you, and you lean against the furnace door next to your Baron to keep an eye on the situation. Walker is clearly falling apart, staring at his shield like a psychopath, and you catch Lemar looking at you. You raise an eyebrow, then look at Walker and nod towards him. He follows your gaze, but doesn’t say anything.

“Uh-uh. No, no, no, this is a bad idea.” Walker starts, and you let Barnes field this one, knowing it won’t end well. You step closer to Zemo, watching the clearly unstable man with wariness in your eyes. You don’t want to have anything to do with him if you can avoid it. He goes after Sam, Lemar and Bucky at his back, and you rush to follow after giving Zemo a pointed look to take care of himself.

“You’re going to ruin it, Walker, give Sam a fucking chance. It’s like you want blood, you fucking maniac. What kind of Captain America doesn’t believe in peaceful conversation to avoid violence!?”

Your words fall on deaf ears, and you watch Karli run, Bucky close on her heels. You bolt off into the maze of the building, looking for where Karli could have gone, only to jump at a gunshot. You run in that direction, gunshots ringing in your ears, and you pray Zemo’s okay. You enter the room just moments after a shield collides with Zemo’s head, blue liquid and glass sprayed across the floor, and Karli nowhere to be found. You growl so deeply your chest feels like it’s about to come apart, and you’re across the room before you even know it.

“WALKER!”

Your fist nearly meets Walker’s spine, but Bucky grabs it, wrenching you back.

“NO! He could’ve killed him! You’re no Captain America, you fucking monster, I’ll tear you to pieces! Let me at him, Buck, I could kill him right here and solve all your problems. I’m already on the run, what’s one more stain on my name? Let me hurt him, please, come on, let me hurt him!” You shout, worming in Barnes’ grasp, but he’s stronger than you. All you’ve got on him is speed.

“Control your rabid dog.” Walker snaps, and you scream with frustration. Barnes drags you a few feet away, holding you tightly to him while you rage. Walker and Lemar leave, and only then does he let go of you, letting you sink to lift Zemo into your arms. You stand easily with his weight, your face permanently etched into a sneer as you stalk past Sam towards your Baron’s home. Sam follows you, watching as you lay Zemo down on the couch and get a cold towel for his head. When he wakes with a groan of pain, you bring him a drink, covering his eyes before he can open them.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, and you sigh.

“Barnes held me back. I was gonna break his spine.”

“Jesus Christ, kid, what the hell?” Sam asks, and you roll your eyes.

“He deserves worse. He’s a loose fucking cannon and you know it. The title is too much for him - it’s making him insane.” You spit as you stalk out of the room, “I need to wash up. If Walker shows him, tell him I’m going to rip his spine out and strangle him with it.”

Zemo laughs, but Sam scoffs, slamming down into an armchair with a muttered curse about excessive violence.

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

“I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well, Steve definitely didn’t.” You hear the tail end of Sam and Bucky’s argument as you exit the bathroom, tossing your bag down as the door slams open from Walker’s kick.

“Alright, that’s it, let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over.” Walker orders as he stalks in with Lemar at his back.

“Hey, now, slow your roll. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re running in here is your mouth.” Sam retorts calmly, “Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today, and we’ll need all hands on deck for whatever’s coming next.”

“How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, Sam, huh?” John asks, and you roll your eyes, moving forwards as Zemo circles the room towards you, “Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?”

You snort as he does just that, cracking your knuckles, only to be interrupted by the timely arrival of the Dora Milaje. Your shoulders relax, and Zemo gives you a quizzical look, but you don’t respond. They might be coming for Zemo, but Walker won’t be able to help himself. He’ll step right into their way, and get his ass kicked. You watch as exactly as predicted, Walker gets himself an asskicking, and you watch with a smile as you share a drink with your Baron. You’re not even slightly surprised when he grabs your hand and drags you into the bathroom behind him, closing and locking the door once you’ve grabbed your bag.

Together, you flee into the sewers, your hand gripping his as you race towards freedom. No matter how much you wanted to kick Walker’s ass, you know that the Dora Milaje will be able to do a better, and more demoralising job. And that’s what you’d prefer, honestly. You want John Walker broken down to his core as he realises that he never deserved the title of Captain America. Truthfully, he was just a placeholder while Sam figured his shit out.

The message you send to Barnes is simple.

‘If you take him from me, I will hunt you down to the ends of the Earth. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, James Buchanan Barnes.’

You discard the burner phone on a table outside of a cafe, running to catch up with Zemo where he waits in a nearby alley.

“They’ll come for me.” Helmut murmurs as he rubs his soapy hands across your stomach, up to cup your breasts, “I can only escape for so long.”

You snort, leaning back into his arms while your massage shampoo into his hair for him.

“They’ll certainly try. There are plenty of places we can hide.” You insist, sighing happily as he nuzzles against your neck. You dip under the running water to rinse yourself off, stealing a kiss from your Baron once the water runs clear. He swaps places with you and you run your hands over him slowly to rinse the soap away. Once the bubbles have been washed away, he presses you into the wall of the shower, and you gasp as he angles himself.

“Okay?” He asks, breathless, and you nod eagerly, spreading your legs a little wider. He pushes inside of you with a sigh, and you grasp at the tiles, eyes rolling back in your head.

“God, you feel so good around me, liebling. I did not… I did not expect this. I did not expect you.” He murmurs, grabbing your hips and rocking into you.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me.” You whisper, letting him pull you back against him so he can steal a kiss, “I won’t lose you, Helmut. I won’t. If they come for you, I’ll destroy them.”

He sighs, holding you tighter, pressing soothing kisses to your neck, “You cannot, schatz. Do not sacrifice yourself for me.”

His next thrust makes you cry out, and he slips a hand between your thighs to stroke across your clit, driving you closer to the edge. It’s been barely any time at all, but you’ve been pent up with emotions, from aborted fights to nearly losing him. He holds you together as you tip over the edge in his arms, his thrusts quickening before you’ve even caught your breath. He strokes your clit firmly, and you find yourself caught in the drag of the tide, unexpectedly rising to your crest again so quickly you find yourself shaking in his arms.

“I can’t!” You gasp, and he chuckles against your neck.

“You can, and you will. Come for me, schatz. Let your Baron make you feel good.”

You claw at the tiles, pinned between the cold of them and the heat of his chest against your back, and your legs shake as he sends you spiralling over the edge into your end, shouting his name into the steam. He grunts against your neck, biting into your shoulder as he buries himself balls deep inside of you to fill you up. Gentle but strong hands clean you up, then guide you out of the shower and into a warm, plush robe. Your Baron guides you into the bedroom, and then into the bed, crawling in behind you to curl up around your back.

“Sleep, liebling. A nap will make things seem clearer when we wake.”

Together with Zemo, you decide to take your time together to hunt down the HYDRA lab you’d been kept in, and the scientists who may have worked there and escaped their due. Finding the lab was simple enough considering you’d escaped it fourteen years ago on foot. It wasn’t in any of HYDRA’s released records, which worries you. How many more facilities do they have hiding? Zemo watches with a smile on his face as you wrench open the door, breaking its seal as if the metal were molten. Not four steps in, you find the bloody bullet buried in the wall that took Imogen’s life, and you hear her screaming in your head for you to keep running as the blood drained rapidly from her body. There’s a stain on the floor, and it taunts you, outlining part of the shape of a body. You find her tucked into a security office only a few doors down, and Zemo has to lead you away, reading the security logs to discover what happened. Normally, she would have been discarded.

According to the logs, after you broke out, they went into a catastrophic failure, and the entire lab was purged with the loss of their only test subject. They didn’t think you’d make your way back to the lab so nothing was actually removed aside from personnel, but they didn’t need the facility so they closed it down and sealed it in case they needed it at a later date. You hunt through their files with your Baron, comparing them to the records of HYDRA operatives who’ve been found, until you find only one name that hasn’t been tagged.

Vanya Nikitin, one of the lead scientists behind your project. You remember him. He’s the one who hit you after you wounded their precious Winter Soldier. You stare at his picture, chest heaving as you find yourself lost in memories. How he used to touch your face and chest when you were strapped down and losing consciousness. How he stroked your stomach before he unleashed the Winter Soldier on you. How he promised you’d birth an army for them.

“Schatz.”

You jerk out of your spiral and glance at Helmut, letting him guide you over to look at the documents he’s digging through. He gestures to a paper and you muddle your way through it, your Russian rusty at best.

Fertility rates… show remarkable increase.

Your Baron’s hand strokes up and down your spine soothingly, and you crumple the page in your hand, “I can take the morning after pill.”

“You could.” Helmut agreed, sliding his arms around your waist, soothing you with his heat against your back, “For once, liebling, the choice is yours. I am happy to let you make this decision - I will support you if you want a child, and I will support you if you do not. You can have whatever you want.”

You nod, resting against him for a moment and letting yourself breathe. Something about being here with him is soothing. Like you’ve reclaimed the space from such evil, and it is once more just a simple laboratory instead of a place in which you were tormented.

“I can, can’t I? I mean, who the fuck is gonna stop me?”

Helmut smiles against your skin, and you only break away from him a few moments later to begin packing up the documents. Your phone dings, and you pull it out, looking at the screen with a raised eyebrow. You don’t know how the fuck you have reception in here, but it appears you do. The message makes you smile, and you show Helmut, stealing a kiss from him with happiness bubbling in your gut like champagne.

You’re emptying out a filing cabinet when you stumble across gold, pulling out Nikitin’s file and tossing it down on the desk in front of you, open to his personal information.

“Hey, Helmut, how do you feel about hunting for squid?”

“Whatever you like, schatz. I will give you whatever you like.”

“Breaking news. We’ve got a report from the Czech Republic - Two dead and thankfully none injured after an explosion at what appears to be a former HYDRA facility. Captain America Sam Wilson expresses his profound regret at the loss of Baron Helmut Zemo, former Sokovian royalty and the man who once tried to bring the Avengers to ruin. According to Wilson, the other deceased was a woman named Y/N Y/L/N, a victim of a HYDRA plot to create an army of super soldiers by way of forced impregnation of two victims of the super soldier serum. It appears that the two were attempting to destroy the facility in which she had been forcefully confined from the age of eight after she was kidnapped, and were caught when the detonation went off early.

James Buchanan Barnes and Sam Wilson will be holding a vigil for HYDRA victims in Y/L/N’s honour tonight outside of City Hall. A second vigil will be held at the Sokovian Memorial in three days time in honour of the late Baron and his family, to honour all the Sokovian lives lost, and those who no longer have a home.”

#baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo

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exquisiteserotonin · 8 months

Text

Stargazin'

I'm just gonna go out and say it: it's Friday and we're feral

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: ~1.9K

Summary: An unexpected suprise is waiting for you when you get home. Will these two crazy kids ever admit that they're crazy for each other?

Warnings: Oral sex (m!receiving) PiV sex, riding, cheesy jokes (it's Dieter, come on!) --- like I've said before, my fic is not for youngsters, please do not engage if you are not 18+

A/N: This all came about after seeing a certain person with a sparkly accessory.

Divider by @cafekitsune

And as always so much love for my magical sluts at the Juice Collective! @basicoccult @imalrightllama @legendary-pink-dot @pink-whiskey-woman @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen @youandmeand5bucks @arcanefox207

“You’ve been over at that guy’s house almost every day last week,” Alex said through the Bluetooth speaker in your car. “What was his name again? The one who lives across the street from El Rey.”

“Pedro,” you responded with a giggle, thinking about how his thick cock filled you, “I mean he’s a good fuck.”

“Sounds like it’s getting pretty serious.”

“Eh,” you replied, suddenly feeling almost guilty at having anything negative to say about getting fucked on a regular basis.

“Uh oh, did your red flag radar go off?”

“There’s just something a little shady there,” you added as you clicked your tongue against your teeth, “and called me old fashioned, but I like my fuck buddies to be transparent.”

“You mean like Di---,” she started as you took a right turn uphill towards your street.

“Don’t start!” you said, your voice darting out like an arrow. “Hey, I’m almost by my house, I’ll call you later.”

You ended the call as you turned into the driveway of your beachy bungalow. The bright afternoon sun danced against the rhythmic sway of the shade trees in your front yard. An instant feeling of calm met you once you unlocked and walked through the front door of your home. The mix of the golden light, the warm neutrals of your decor, and your beloved plants placed with intention alongside windows and in the corners of each room all came together as your personal sanctuary.

Muscle memory led you to your bedroom and your feeling of peace left you with a gasp at the sight before you.

“Howdy.”

Dieter greeted you with a low, flirty growl as he affected a Texas drawl. He lay in your king size bed, naked, with his legs sprawled out, a sparkly, silver cowboy hat covered his cock, like a glimmering bow atop a present. His hands were resting behind his head as he looked at you with a libidinous smirk shining through his stubble which had grown longer since last you saw him. As much as you fought against it, you found yourself biting your bottom lip.

“What do you have under that hat, cowboy?”

Dieter pushed himself up by the elbows, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. The sunlight that floated in through the blinds lit his golden skin with a perfect combination of light and shadow. A heat grew inside you as you marveled at how it defined the obvious muscles that had emerged since you had last seen him.

Fuck, he’s been working out.

“Well ma’am,” Dieter continued, his accent was so sweet it was as though he’d dipped his tongue in tupelo honey, “why don’t you mosey on over here and find out?”

It was like he was pulling you into some kind of metaphysical trance as he leaned up one inch more, emphasizing his belly. Though noticeably slimmer, it remained endearingly soft.

With wicked intentionality, he adjusted the shimmering hat and bucked his hips. Every movement he made had your skin tingling from each strand of hair on your head through every inch of your body to your toes. The worst thing about him knowing you so well was that he knew exactly what to do to drive you absolutely insane. And with one more wink and a scrunch of his nose, he beckoned you to him.

“You’re a fucking menace,” you said, trying to hide your smile.

“C’mere and I’ll show you just how much of a menace I can be,” he hissed, his tongue taking a small peek from behind his smile.

It was hard for you to imagine who might deny Dieter, knowing that there was an 8-inch cock waiting for you underneath that obnoxiously loud, silver cowboy hat. Whoever that might be, it certainly wasn’t you.

You had discarded all but your bralette and panties as you began to crawl on the bed towards him. The muscles in his calves were solid and defined, you noticed, as you knelt between his spread legs massaging your hands up their length. The hairs on them tingled with a wave of raised goosebumps at your touch. With one hand you removed the only physical accessory that prevented him from being bare and unfurled for you.

“You know what they say,” Dieter tempted you with a roll of his tongue, “save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

A loud, warm laugh echoed from the depths of your belly. Any other man would have been threatened and immediately lost his hard on from your laughter, but not Dieter. You took the hat off his dick placing atop your head as he laughed with you. His chest and belly rumbled, his laugh echoing out wildly and boisterously with yours while his cock still twitched. Reaching for his forearms and pulling him towards you, you interlaced your fingers in his. The smile you wore on your face before you kissed him was so big that your cheeks hurt.

“Well cowboy, I’m going to ride this cock,” you hushed him as you lowered your lips to his glistening cock, “but first…”

Gripping him first with a gentle hold of your right hand, you pulled back his foreskin and caressed your lips and circled your tongue against the smooth skin of his cock. A gasp escaped him at your initial touch. A smile slowly formed on your lips before you wrapped them around the tip, pressing a broad stroke of your tongue to the center of the head of his cock. His body shuddered with a few strong pulls of him into your mouth.

“Shit, you’re…so good,” he groaned, placing a hand gently to your hair.

At that motion you moved your lips down the length of his shaft. Your lips savored each ridge and vein as he throbbed against you. You took as much of him as you could into your mouth to the back of your throat. You hollowed your cheeks to take more of him in, at least, as much you could before finding the perfect rhythm of your lips moving up and down to fuck him with your mouth.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he said with the tiniest whimper.

A low, muffled moan vibrated from the back of your throat to his cock, making him moan out for you again and again. The feeling of him shaking for you and the way he sighed and moaned in desperation as you sucked him off had a special way of making you want him even more. As you delighted in the taste of him, your pussy clenched as your sex slipped from you to coat your panties. As you massaged his balls, you focused your mouth back to the head of his delectable cock, sucking until he gripped the sheets.

“Stop, stop---don’t want to come yet!” He groaned through sighs and gasps. “Need to fuck you.”

“No…,” you purred as you slipped off your panties and pulled your bralette off over your head, “I need to fuck you.”

“Well come on then,” Dieter tempted, scrunching his nose with a playful snarl, “ride it like you stole it.”

You hadn’t even sunk over him, and your pussy was already pulsing with need. The anticipation coursed through you as you crawled over his defined thighs, feeling the muscles in his quads flex as you lowered yourself onto him with an unrestrained moan. With a slow, deep roll of your hips you began to grind yourself on his cock. With each wave of movement, you felt how hard you kept him and how every controlled gesticulation you made stirred the most intense delight in your folds. Your sex glided from your pussy onto his cock as you swayed your hips into him faster and faster. He clutched at the pillow beneath his head, bouncing his hips up for you as you rode him. His herculean hands reached for your waist, massaging your hips as you continued to bounce on him, feeling every inch as he thrust up into you. The head of his cock hit you in the most exquisite way, leaving you shuddering against his hips. Your approaching climax began to light up nearly every nerve in your body like a switchboard. His hands journeyed to your breasts, grasping them, kneading them until his fingers found your nipples to pinch and flick at them like the strings on a fiddle.

“Ahh, Dieter, fuck!” you cried, your nipples tingling at his touch.

Holding the silver cowboy hat to your head with one hand, you leaned back against his left thigh until you began to gently massage his balls with the other. A long, low moan left his pouty lips, and he gave one strong thrust upwards, making you yelp out in ecstasy. As Dieter propped himself up towards you, you leaned forward to grind your pelvis into the base of his cock. Every nerve ending in your clit simmered with electricity from the motion. Perspiration glistened over your skin as you began rocking into one another. You knew each other’s bodies so well that you moved in unison. With them, you created the perfect rhythm until your hearts raced faster and faster and your breaths became ragged at your approaching climax.

“Shit---I’m---I’m gonna come this way,” he moaned, his hips thrust deeper into you as you continued to grind onto him.

“Me too!” Your words came out like a blur as you felt the perfection of your pussy starting to quake around his cock.

His pace was unbridled and rough as he began to lose himself in you, his large hands gripping your ass. The way your pussy vibrated against him sent waves of pleasure that rippled over every inch of your body until you felt them all the way to your head while you cried out his name in exaltation.

The cowboy hat fell from your head as he gave you one, last powerful thrust. He stilled and then emptied himself into you, letting out a raspy moan that melted into ardent whimpers. For a few moments you let your breath come down to a natural pace while you held each other in ethereal bliss. Your lips pressed against his forehead as he nuzzled against you, his lips and nose kissing and caressing your neck and shoulders.

Both of you sighed as you climbed off him to collapse next to him in bed.

“Jesus, that was amazing!” You exclaimed as you kissed him.

Your fingers played with the brim of the glittery cowboy hat before looking up at him to see the goofiest, post-coital grin spreading onto his handsome face.

“I’m taking it, you got this on set as a joke?” you asked in reference to the Western movie he’d been away filming.

Dieter confirmed it with a nod, unable to get rid of the smile beneath his mustache. Rolling over to his side, he propped himself up on one elbow. His eyes traversed the curves of your body followed closely by his fingers. The caress so soon after your orgasm sent shivers straight to your still throbbing pussy.

“Just think, now you can tell everyone you’ve rode a stallion and a cowboy.”

His cheeks were rosy and tight with stifled laughter. You rolled your eyes as you turned to face him, shaking your head with a low chuckle. Everything in that perfect moment - the silly cowboy hat, the bad jokes, and goofy smiles were so classically Dieter.

“You’re a dork,” you teased, pressing a small peck to his aquiline nose. “Welcome home.”

#juice collective #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fic #the bubble #save a horse ride a cowboy #silver cowboy hat #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 4 months

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happy new year everyone!! 🌟✨ it's been almost exactly a year since i first tentatively poked my head into this little space here on tumblr, and being part of the wonderful am/miles/tlsp community here with you all has truly been one of the highlights of my 2023 💗

as i'm sure is the case for most of us, it's been a year of ups and downs for me. i've been lucky enough to experience some amazing things (living in a new city, reconnecting with my creativity, getting my dream job, discovering music that speaks to my soul, making new friends, reading some amazing books) and human enough to experience some less incredible things (chronic pain, family difficulties, discovering my dream job is not in fact my dream job, getting long covid, the ever uphill battle of healing from trauma). through it all, this space has been a continued solace and source of joy, where i've met some truly special people and felt part of a little community where i get to have fun and flail and just be me. i can't even begin to express how grateful i am to be part of a space like this, or how grateful i am to everyone here who makes it what it is ✨

i also just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has supported me with my writing over this past year, whether that's through kudos or comments or messages or amazing cheerleading/editing help. one of the absolute gifts of discovering this fandom has been the writing fic side of it. maybe it sounds silly, but writing four walls has genuinely been one of the highlights and biggest achievements of my year. writing has always been something incredibly close to my heart, but my degree left me totally sapped of inspiration and confidence, and i'd been struggling for a while to climb out of that after graduating. something about alex and miles just instantly sparked off inspiration in me that i hadn't felt for a long time, and getting to write about them over the past year has reminded me of the sheer joy of creating and the magic of getting to share that with people ✨

it's something that's finally given me the confidence to pick up my own original writing again too, and i couldn't be more grateful to alex and his wonderful lyrics (particularly the entirety of humbug) and to everyone who's supported my fic ventures for helping me reconnect to and explore my creativity. it's the best feeling in the world to finally feel like i'm coming home to that part of myself and carving out a proper space for it in my life 💗

2023 was far from perfect, but it was filled with so many brilliant moments of illumination and i feel i am leaving it with a deeper sense of myself and my path moving forward. i know it's going to be a rocky one at times, but i am excited for what 2024 holds in store for me - and i can't wait to continue flailing with you all over all things milex and to enjoy all the amazing fics/gifsets/posts/art to come!

wishing all of you a year ahead full of wonderful moments and new experiences and fulfilment 💫✨ i really am more grateful than i'll ever be able to adequately express for this space here, and to all the amazing people i've been lucky enough to get to know through it. here's to an amazing 2024 for all of us 💗💞🩷💓💖💕💝

(the photos above are just a random little collection of ones over the past year that i particularly associate with the various things i've talked about in this post)

#god this ended up being much longer and more sentimental than i realised 😅#happy new year!! 💜#also please excuse the photo of me lol #it’s not the best and i’ve blocked out my face for obvious reasons #but it was taken the morning after the am concert in my hotel room just before i left #and i was just feeling so utterly elated and swept up in the post gig high #so it captures one of my favourite moments and feelings of the whole year 🥰#i couldn’t not include it #anyway i’ll actually shut up now #i blame having an hour to myself for the first time all holiday for this degree of self indulgent rambling 😅#personal #lulu posts

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liquid-luck-00 · 7 months

Text

Marks of Magic

Day 1 Moon

Maribat Spooktober 2023

I don’t know if this is going to be a stand alone or a short part story or if it will be the whole month.

Let’s see where it takes us.

I’m restarting my permanent taglist since I’ve been inactive for so long. Sorry!!!

Language and cursing is used

1500 words

~~~~~~~~~~

Three years.

THREE YEARS!!

she has dealt with this stupid Moth's reign of emotional terror. And she is done.

She is done with Chat's dumb jokes and worse, his unwanted advances. she is done with having no one she can trust. she tried giving second chances to Alya, Nino, and even Chloe. But each time she did they broke her trust again and again. She stopped calling on other holders.

She is done with fighting this war alone. She reached out to the Justice League but they laughed in her face. So she stopped asking for help.

The Akumas would target the non-holders group of heroes so often and defeat them or worse until the cure would be cast. that they either left the city or gave up.

she is done being alone and fighting this uphill battle alone.

She doesn't know when the change happened but it did. Her suit darkened and changed, to a point where most was a pitch black. Accents of red and black spots littered the suit, but it darkened.

She couldn’t stand it anymore, her hero life is suffering because she had no one to turn to. That leaked into her personal life as well, she couldn’t trust her friends, so as the guardian, she wiped their memories of ever being a holder, and in Alya’s case the fact she is Ladybug. On top of that Lila held on to her threat, and it came to pass, the class turned on her, as they iced her out of their lives she did the same. She focused herself into her brand and grew her client list.

•••

"Seriously Gurl!" she heard Alya starting to stomp up the steps towards her. Marinette didn't look up from the tablet she was currently reviewing before class started.

"You could at least look at me!" Her hands slammed down on the desk infront of her.

"Alya." She responded, making a note on the document. "What can I do for you?"

"Cut the Snark, Marinette, we all know what you did."

"Oh really." A smirk played on her lips. she looked up at her ex-friend. "Do tell, what did I do?"

"Lila can't even stand being in class since your here."

"And.."

"You really are a bully, Mari, how can you not even show remorse for what you did."

"Your right, I don't." Marinette stood up. "Granted you haven't told me what I did yet." she crossed her arms, watching the other girl get madder at her 'attitude'.

Alya was about to respond when in walked Lila, but with one big difference. Gone was her long hair and stupid sausage pigtails that framed her face. Now it was cut short, a Pixie cut that now showed off her high cheekbones and her eyes, that were Puffy and rimmed in red from what she assumes were tears. The girl looked at her quickly before averting her gaze and dove into her seat. Mari didn't say anything. It was shocking to see her this way, so much she almost dropped her defensive posture. Luckily she didn't say anything as Mdm. Bustier walked in to start the class.

Mari quickly sat down as Alya flew down the steps to console the Italian.

The class period seemed to stretch out longer than normal, but that only caused her mind to race more with every tick of the clock.

All to soon Mdm. Bustier clapped her hands, pulling her from her stupor. "I would like to congratulate Marinette for being our lucky winner to spend the next semester at our sister school, Gotham Academy."

Every one turned towards her, if she looked closely their smiles were forced, almost sneers.

She never applied for it.

Her eyes travelled to her ex-friend, Alya who looked triumphant.

But jokes on them. She was glad. Glad she wouldn't have to deal with them for almost six months now.

So she smiled.

Not one of her strained smiles that had become so common place, but a true genuine smile.

The rest of her day went by in almost a blur. Teachers and other classmates would congratulate her but it didn't register fully. A plan forming in her mind.

•••

She was glad that there was no akuma today. As soon as school let out she got to work.

Through the photos she took of the grimore she learned, during dire situations, the butterfly could embue its own holder as a champion. Gabriel Agreste, then came back into the forefront of her suspects.

She didn't suspect to act on it, but while outside she saw him. Gabriel moved to a subterranian green house, where she then saw a kwamii.

She didn't think and acted on pure instinct.

she dove through the window, Agreate turned and before he could say anything she charged at him.

The yoyo in her hands extended into a weighted bo staff. Agreste getting over his shock called on his transformation. The two of them danced circles around the other as their weapons clashed in the underground room.

"How?!?!" she heard him snarl at her, but she didn't answer.

She was tired of this bull shit.

Tired that this peice of crap of a man made her life a living hell for three years.

Until ...

A flash of light enveloped the room. There Gabriel Agreste knelt on a knee, his hands balled into fists as he glared up at her. The butterfly Miraculous clutched in her hand.

A spark eminated and from it out came the kwamii of transmission, Nooroo.

"Ladybug... I..." The kwamii tried and failed to speak.

"Please go and retrieve the Peacock and the Grimore." She said never taking her eyes off of Agreste.

When he returned she placed both Miraculi in her yo-yo and finally spoke again. "Why?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you." He practicaly spat.

"No you don't, but I want to know the reason before I deal out a verdict." she hummed.

"And why would you be doing something like that, Ladybug." He tried to stand but fell back, too tired or too hurt, she doesn't know. She lowered down to meet his eyes, but didn't say a word.

In that moment he was so defeated, he finally collapsed to the ground barely able to lift his head to speak. "No use telling you now. You’ve already won."

He attention pulled towards the large window, seeing the full moon overhead illuminating their conversation.

"I guess that’s true. But why wouldn't I want to know why. Why I fucking fought for three years against you for so long. I need to know why." She stared up at the moon not sparing the man a glance.

"For her." There was a silence but she didn’t look at him, not yet. "All she wanted was a child, but in order for him to grow, she had to..." He didn't finish his thought.

She looked back at Agreste, she took in his battered spirit and body before standing again. She looked around the room until her eyes landed on it, a cyro chamber with who she assumes is Emily Agreste. "No matter what, there’s always a price for a wish. to bring her back something else must be taken from you."

"Please. Please just do what you have to."

"No. You have to live with the fact that your decisions ensured she would never wake up. That she was wrong to place her faith and love in you." She pulled out her Yoyo and flew out of the room, back home. The moon's light guideing her.

She fell onto her bed dropping her transformation as she thumbed through the grimoire until it landed on a page of spells.

She doesn’t know if it’ll work or not, but it’s worth a shot.

"As the guardian of the miracle box I, Ladybug, call upon the powers of the Kwamii held in my protection."

She closed her eyes and continued to recite the word she’s read over and over for the past few months.

"For my conviction is absolute and I release the Kwamii from their jewels, never to be used again by mortal beings."

Several voices were heard in front of her now, all the Kwamii she’s met floated in front of her in between her self and the moon. She doesn’t know how but even Plagg was among the others.

"Is this truly your wish guardian?" Was spoken by both Tikki and Plagg.

"Yes." That’s single word rang resolute within the empty room.

One by one each kwamii approached her, said a goodbye and thanks before disappearing.

Plagg came towards her and was the first to place his miraculous in her hand.

"Your one hell of a kid, Pigtails. Be unappoligetic. If you ever need to." He held up a paw. "Just give me a shout."

"Plagg!" Tikki exclaimed.

"I said what I said." He cackled before dissapearing.

She heard Tikki sigh before hugging her cheek. "You've grown so much, my little bug. "She pressed a flipper to her earring." Plagg's right though. If you ever need to. Call upon our power and we will lend it to you."

"Thank you Tikki." she felt tears beginnig to sting her eyes. Tikki dissapeared. "Thank you. All of you."

~~~~~~~~~~

#Maribat Spooktober 2023 #Maribat October Prompts #maribat #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #dc x miraculous #miraculous x dc #ml marinette #luka x mari x jason

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jewish-vents · 2 months

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i won’t go into too much detail , i don’t know how much i can say , how much im allowed to say , and if it’s sensitive material that can disturb others so i will try to keep it vague. but ive been really pushing to reconnect with scripture and spirituality, and get more in tune with religious observation the last few months more intensely, if that makes any sense. not that i ever stopped at any point, just caught myself getting lax. reconnecting has helped me with my mental health a lot more than i can ever perfectly articulate. that being said: my struggle with mental health is intense. i have PTSD and BPD, and i have extremely ‘self destructive habits’ as i’ll call them. it’s been a struggle since i was a small child forever ago. and my Bad thoughts constantly tell me over and over again im a “bad jew” for doing this to myself and i can’t ever shake it. i have cried every night for weeks on end now with seemingly no end in sight. it feels like if the wind shifts i’ll cry. i feel like such an open wound and have since October. lost almost all my friends, and im too scared to ever trust again. my mental health is in shattered pieces and im slipping back into my old bad habits again. and every night “you’re a bad Jew, anon” rings in my head over and over again and makes me cry more. additionally the IRL harassment has gotten so bad i barely leave the house. i don’t know how to connect with my [extremely small] community here. i feel so alone and scared and tired— and Gds sake, i can’t even trust myself anymore. despite the horrors online: jumblr has helped a lot. you guys are the best. im trying to stay strong and stick around on earth but Gd. it’s a struggle. it feels like fighting an uphill battle. we’re all so connected yet i feel so far away.

#jewish vents #jumblr #antisemitism #tw self harm #tw suicide

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temper-temper · 4 months

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How have you been lately?

Put this off a bit to answer because I’ve been thinking a lot over the last year and well Last year today was the day I was rushed to the ER because my heart went into SVT due to extreme stress and Covid.

This past year has been full of amazing blessing: I got in a relationship with, proposed to, and married my best friend; I got to travel and meet some friends irl that I met online, got to visit some warships, aircraft, and submarines; got so many amazing gifts and met so many amazing people! But a lot of not so good things happened this year too. For the first time ever I actually contemplated suicide after a lot of past trauma resurfaced. I came many realizations about how unhealthy a lot of my past relationships had been and I’ve been struggling to see things as they are- I keep looking through a lens of trauma and fear and it’s been really getting to me in how I see myself and my relationships. I keep thinking that my friends aren’t my friends anymore and hate me. I keep putting blame on myself because it’s easier to feel guilty than to come to terms with how people have hurt me. I was even officially diagnosed with PTSD!

Though I wouldn’t change anything about this past year it has been an uphill battle for the latter end of it and I’ve been struggling to regain my footing. I’m grateful for so many good experiences and things are looking up with treatment for a lot of this past stuff but it doesn’t mean that I’m doing well. I’m hopeful but not well.

With all that being said however I will be taking a break from tumblr, I may still check it but I’m not going to be active for a little while. I love tumblr, the community, and friends I’ve made since I rejoined the mlp ask blog community here but there is also a lot of memories here that I need to work though as well.

Thank you guys for everything and see you again soon!

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quotemenevervore · 7 months

Text

Like a seesaw that only goes down

Hey @i-am-beckyu guess what I finished?

Part one at least, I have another part already a good chunk in the works and hopefully won’t take as long as this part did to come out ; - ;

(Tw for fear and panic, thoughts of dangerous scenarios)

Tommy hated camping. It was a simple fact. He didn’t like being outside, with all the bugs and he didn’t like all the physical labor that went into camping to begin with. He did, however, like Tubbo. So when his friend asked him to come with him on a camping trip, he couldn’t find it in him to say no.

He doesn’t see Tubbo too often anymore, thanks to the constant transferring of foster homes. Thankfully, the current home he was in didn’t really care about his whereabouts, which left him able to pack a bag and meet his friend at the park.

“Hey!” Tubbo happily greeted, a large backpack resting heavily on the brunette’s shoulders. “Geez, you bring enough stuff?” Tommy eyed the bag for a moment. “Yea! Got the tents, the sleeping bags, the cooking equipment,” rolling his eyes at the list, he looked around the park, trying to locate the other’s parents.

“Hey, Tubbo?” “Yeah?” He abruptly cut off his rambling. “Where’re your parents?” “Oh! They said I’m old enough to go without supervision. So it’s just us this time!” Nodding, he quickly turned off the train of thoughts that followed that both envied and worried for his friend. Old memories flickered through his mind of being on his own without being old enough to care for himself. Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he really liked being with Tubbo’s family. It was endearing to watch them interact together, and a reminder to himself that maybe one day he’d fit into a family as close knit and kind as Tubbo’s. “Right, so same spot as usual?” “You know it! Let’s get going.”

~ ~ ~

Tommy groaned, flopping down on the hard floor of the tent. Tubbo simply laughed at him, sitting beside the blonde. “That was too much running.” “It was just uphill, Toms.” “Uphill! That’s the most difficult thing to run!” “You’ve got to get out more, boss man. I swear, one day you’re gonna need to run from a threat and it’s not gonna work out for you.” “Like it’ll ever come to that.” Tommy scoffed, turning his head away. Tubbo hummed softly, thinking of a new conversation topic.

“Y’know, I’m amazed that logs held up so long. I think that log’s been the bridge since dad started taking me here.” “You trying to jinx us or something? Don’t talk about how old the log is! What if it crumbles while we’re walking on it?” “Well, if you had good endurance it wouldn’t be an issue.” “Oh for the love of-“ he swung a hand over, attempting to hit the brunette, only for his hand to get caught and pushed back towards him. “Let’s make some food, then get some sleep. Since you’re just so exhausted.” Tubbo teased once more before slipping out of the tent, leaving Tommy scrambling to sit up and follow him, scowling at the jab.

~ ~ ~

After a short meal of canned soup and s’mores, the boys responsibly put the fire out and crawled back into the tent as the sun went down, intending on getting some sleep before having fun the next day. Or.. that was the original plan. Tubbo was sound asleep. Tommy wished he was, but his mind was as wide as his eyes, staring at the top of the tent. He was aching for something to shut his mind off, and eventually, his body found itself outside. Just a quick walk on the trail across, surely that’ll turn his brain off, right?

Of course, nothing ever went how it should have for him. Just as he made it halfway across the log, there was a loud crack that made him flinch harshly. What made him flinch harder was the sudden lurch the log gave after, and with his limited vision he was just barely able to see on the other side what had happened. The log came loose, and had begun to sink into the soft mud of the shores.

Fuck, fuck fuck!

He twisted around, finding that the log on that side had also begun to sink, leaving him slightly off balance and barely able to keep his footing on the sinking wood. There was shifting to the direction he had tried to go, and at first he didn’t pay any mind to it. But it grew deafeningly loud, and rattled the log, making it sink ever so faster. So he twisted his body to see the interruption.

And boy did he regret it.

Large- no, giant brown eyes peered at him from above the tree line. Equally brown curls covered the giant’s head, but that was all he could gather before his lungs stuttered and he was forcibly reminded to breathe. What. The. Fuck!?

Since when were giants real!?

He knew his eyes were wide and likely full of fear and disbelief, but it wasn’t just the giant that kept his veins running ice. The log sank into the soft sand once again, and he glared at the large eyes looming before him, struggling to keep his feeting on the wet log. Were he in a better state of mind, he may have noticed the concern in the eyes, but for the moment he focused on trying to lower down so he wasn’t off balance.

The log shifted again, and he fell hard with a yelp, scratching his arms up on the bark as he tried to sit back up. By the time he looked up, the log was moving again, sinking faster through the mud. His face paled when he realized the danger he was in. The river was running rampant, there would be no surviving if he got caught in the current. He was stuck in the middle of the log, and if he tried to run to either side, he’d probably fall anyway.

Then there was the giant. “Let me help you,” a voice boomed, though extremely softly. He’d come further out the tree line, and Tommy could barely see the yellow sweater the giant had. More importantly, he saw his hands twitching near the shoreline. Ice gripped his heart at the idea. It could eat him, crush him, rip him limb by limb-

The log sunk further, hitting a rock and jolting the entire fallen tree. Tommy yelped, almost slipping off the log and trying desperately to keep his tremors from messing up his grip. His mind raced with his two options. He could let the giant grab him, and do whatever may happen to him, or sink in the river.

He.. didn’t want to drown. It seemed longer than whatever the giant would do to him.. he couldn’t let himself think on it. He just had to do it.

“Help me!” He yelled back, and within the next second he was yanked away from the log with a force that disoriented him. It was suffocatingly warm, and he struggled briefly to be reexposed to the cool night air. After being raised up a few more seconds, something that made Tommy’s stomach drop, he was granted that wish. Unfortunately, his new sight made his stomach drop worse and his heart to hammer painfully against his ribs. He was closer to the giant’s face than before, cradled gently in his open palm. One hand was hovering slightly behind him, ready to grab him at a moment’s notice.

‘Probably doesn’t wanna lose his snack,’ he thought bitterly. “Are you alright?” The voice was soft again despite rattling through his bones, and Tommy was reminded once more of the immense danger he was in. “I’m fine. Thanks for the save, can I be let down now though?” His tongue felt slightly numb, and internally he cursed how stuttered and wrong his words came out. “Oh! Yea, I forgot humans don’t really like being held. Here,” the giant slowly lowered his hand to the ground, giving Tommy the ability to jump off.

Finally, he felt the ability to breathe return to him, and he took a moment to recollect the air he’d lost from the scare. “Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” Again, the giant asked. “Uh, no. I’m good, big man.” “That’s a relief. I thought the log would last a lot longer than it did.” The giant frowned, and Tommy was quick to take a step back.

“Yea..” his attention was back on Tommy in no time, though. “I’m Wilbur, by the way.” Should he really tell the giant his name? He didn’t give it much thought, sure either scenario that would play out would result in him not caring much about the giant knowing. “Tommy.” “It’s nice to meet you, though I’d much rather it be in better circumstances. Speaking of..” There was concern in his eyes again. “Why are you out so late at night? Even the campers stay in their tents.” “Yea, I uh.. couldn’t sleep. Wanted to take a walk to clear my head. You saw how well that went.” He grimaced, looking towards the river.

“Is your tent on the other side? I can carry you over there.” “You’re gonna get in the river?” “I’m going to have to anyway, I have to fix the log. It’s no trouble, really.” The giant was quick to reassure, and honestly it should have made the blonde more wary, but it didn’t. A hand was offered for him to climb on- hah, climb on. Maybe he was just dreaming this all up- and with the sudden crash from adrenaline at that thought, he took it.

“You’re not camping by yourself, are you? You’re awfully young, where are your parents?” He frowned at the question, averting his eyes away from the giant. “I ain’t that young, I’m a big man. we’re old enough that they said we could come camping by ourselves. My friend’s over there.” Should he have really told this giant he had a friend nearby!? “Oh.” The man didn’t falter, but there was a strange emotion behind his actions. “That’s fine..” he nodded, seemingly to himself. “Getting ready to move, steady yourself.”

Tommy took a breath, pressing his hand against the palm under him in an attempt to keep himself in place as the hand slowly began to rise under him. It stayed as steady as the giant could manage, even as they began to rise and step through the foliage.

He looked up, catching the wrinkle of distaste on the giant's face. His stomach flipped, but before he could question it, they moved again, this time a huge step which he realized was them crossing the river.

“Not a fan of getting my clothes wet. It’s all I have to sleep in.” Wilbur sheepishly explained, carefully lowering himself down to the ground. “The campground should be close by.” His voice softened greatly as he was slowly lowered from the giant’s chest towards the forest floor. Sure enough, as his feet hit the ground, he could see their tent, the smoke from the fire having finally snuffed out.

He nodded to himself, lowering himself the rest of the way out of the giant’s hand, and tried not to flinch as the hand retreated. “Well, hopefully your night goes a little better.” “Yea, uh, back at you.” Tommy nodded to the brunette, who smiled and began retreating across the river again. But he was still unable to shake the feeling of being watched, and quickly made his way to the tent, hoping the next crash of adrenaline would knock him out.

As his brain finally let him drift off, he could hear the world moving around him, but.. it seemed unnatural. As if things were bigger than they should have been. He chose to leave it alone.

~ ~ ~

The last thing Wilbur wanted to hear was the loud cracking sound of the log pulling away from its anchor in the shore, and a small yelp. Curled up in the cave he normally hid in, he snapped to attention quickly, pulling himself out and quickly rising to his full height. It didn’t take him long to race to the pathway, worried about the safety of whoever had made that yelp.

He was a giant. Well, a giant shifter. He was already mentally preparing how to help this human as he finally came into view of them, but his mind completely halted when he took in the boys features. Not fully obvious from his standpoint, but enough; dirty, tangled hair and super baggy clothes. Most of the humans that came through here wore.. better clothes, at least better shoes than the raggedy sneakers the kid seemed to have on. Catching his eyes, he couldn’t see anything but fear, riling his instincts up secretly. But.. no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t destroy this kid’s trust, he needed to help him. It took longer than he hoped as the log continued sinking, and he was afraid he would have to grab the teen against his will, but he was given the okay and Wilbur was fast to pull him out of the risky situation.

Holding him in his hand, close to his face, he couldn’t deny it. This boy wasn’t being cared for. Multiple scars littered what he could see of his arms and legs, most looking like running into trouble be it nature or people. His clothes were a lot baggier than Wilbur would have liked, especially from first glance. The boy’s eyes, while still bright, had an achingly familiar dullness to them.

Phil needs to know about this.

He kept his introduction short, and helped ‘Tommy’ back to the side of the river he was meant to be on, with a ‘friend’. After that was done, and he no longer saw or heard the boy walking away, he tried to focus on his next task. The log was gone, so they would definitely need a new way to traverse the river. Thankfully, he knew just the tree to use.

An already dead one, the roots long and curled around anything it could. Wilbur took care this time to wrap the roots around the roots of the closest tree to shore, packing it down with clay and mud to hopefully make it stick this time. He’d have to leave the other side to the humans, if he went over there now he’d wake the poor boy he just sent to bed. Nodding to himself after finishing what he could, he made his way back to the cave he was residing in.

Curling back up in the cave, he found that those dulled sapphire eyes did not leave his mind. He sighed, knowing he was in for a long night.

Not only that, but Phil would be in for a long morning, when he could finally shrink back down to human size.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #fake fic title #seesaw au #my goodness life is kicking my ASS #I’m trying to bounce back guys lol #tiny!tommy #shapeshifter!wilbur

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