we are all made of flesh

ATTENTION: For anyone who reads fanfiction without leaving feedback

Here’s a few things you should know:

Fanfiction is a gift

Fic writers don’t have to share their works with you. They don’t have to write them at all. They do it and they share it because they’re fans of the show/book/movie etc. just like you, and they want to contribute to everyone’s enjoyment of fandom.

Fanfiction is hard to write

You need a lot of creativity and passion to write fic. You need a ton of motivation and drive to write a complete fic, let alone a good one. Fic authors write for hours and hours and hours, often staying up late into the night just to write. They write through job struggles and personal issues, resorting to phones and tablets when their computers are on the fritz, tapping away on public buses and trains just because they can’t find any other time to write.

Fanfiction is free

Fic writers give away thousands and thousands of words of pure fandom magic, and you get to consume all of it for the wonderful price of nothing. The only reward writers receive for themselves (besides a sense of accomplishment) is the response they get from you, the reader. Some don’t even feel that accomplishment until they see kudos and comments telling them how much their work was enjoyed. 


No matter how much time you have, even just clicking the kudos button takes less than a second. And if you have time to read 5k words at one go, it’s no stretch at all to take a few more seconds to type ‘good job!’ or ‘i loved this!’ in the comment box and hit send. 

Still not convinced?


Fic authors LOVE hearing from you. Don’t worry about whether you think you’re going to phrase your response well. That’s literally the last thing we care about. Just knowing that you had a good time with something we made is EVERYTHING to us.


I have a very special challenge for you, my friend.

Write a fic.

Go forth, and write a complete, well-structured, well-characterised fic with organic, stimulating dialogue interwoven into a proper, fully fleshed-out storyline. 

Publish your work for all the Internet to see.

And then get back to me.


I got inspired by humans are weird posts.
The first time it happened, no one took notice. When it reached the hundredth time, everyone took notice.

The newest members of the Galactic Alliance were tough beyond imagination. Stories were spread all over the place.

“I once saw one go for ten klicks without stopping, while their leg was broken.”

“Hey, have you heard about the time one managed to lift half of a ship to get a member of the crew out?”

“They do what???”

“They pierce metal into their flesh and inject ink into their skin.”

“How do they not die?”

“They heal so fast it doesn’t trouble them.”

The species in question: Humans. Rumors spread of their strength. Twenty years after they joined one of the Universe’s most brilliant minds released an article on humans.

She had lived among humans since they joined. Every bit of their culture fascinated her. When her apartment complex went up in flames she saw men and women racing inside to get those trapped out. Her eyes widened when she met veterans. They told her stories that she could hardly believe, but their mental and physical scars told otherwise. Her heart stopped when a child went missing and their parents searched for weeks even when others had given up. Famine struck in small countries, cars crashed, children were born, friends became family, some were lost, others were gained, and these strange creatures always kept going. Humans were people of iron wills, mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers.

This brilliant mind read through their lore and felt all their feelings. Danger was not unfamiliar to them. It was a fact of life. Animals nearly gave her a heart attack.

“What creatures are these?”

“Those are cats. They’re a type of pet.”

“You keep flesh-eating clawed animals as pets?”

Not to mention the weather, and the planet itself.

“Why is the ground shaking?”

“It’s an Earthquake. They’re quite common here, because we are on a fault line.”

“Is this planet designed to kill you?”

“In a way, yes.”

The atmosphere was made up of oxygen. Which is used as a type of fuel source. Essentially, humans breathed death.

When the article hit the mainstream humans became the most sought after explorers. Who knew that these people were so tough.

Black Girl, NYC

Greetings people. I identify as a Black female who was born and raised in NYC. I am slowly progressing through my study of education and history in college. Other then that, I spend (probably) an unhealthy amount of time reading and writing sci fi and fantasy. But by high school, I got sick and tired of the same story featuring blonds and brunettes saving the day with their straight, lean male heroes so I turned to my librarian seeking something new. She pointed to Octavia Butler and the rest was history. I’ve been seeking diversity in media ever since.

Family life and Culture

I grew as the middle child of six siblings with my single mother and grandparents. Yes, my working-class household fits the stereotype. We even have an absent father *sighs* But, hey shit happens. And with the biological father turns out not to be the best father figure, shit had to go right out the door. Yup. But make no mistake that this is a norm. Most households on my block do have both parents involved in their children’s lives. Our circumstances called for us to have one. That’s all.

The house was full, loud and rambunctious. We made up a good portion of the children on the block (unsurprising) and basically ran it. There’s a whole novel that could be fleshed out of my childhood if I wanted to. Our neighborhood is very tight knit. Next door neighbors were treated like Aunts and Uncles. When summer came around, we were sometimes divided into groups as the parents who were off from work overlooked us while braiding our heads. Blackouts became an all night bbq and sleepover on each other’s porches. Crooklyn by Spike Lee was a good representation of what it was like in fact. Somewhat. Minus the brownstones, plus a couple more fights (lol).

My grandma was a nurse who’s pretty big on us knowing our family history. She made sure to talk a lot about our Gullah Geechee roots. We also had some Dominican culture influence since her closest friend and our Madrina was, well, Dominican. But she is fairly strict on gender norms and how my sisters and I should act especially with brothers. She antagonized me the most growing up because I continued to ignore this. We don’t get along but i can’t say i don’t get why she’s the way she is. She has a pretty dark past. My mother, a latchkey kid of the finest stock, is more laid back and gives all of us free range to make our own mistakes. Most times. Other times, she’d rather lecture us. Depends on our crime.

I don’t know what my grandpa used to do. He retired waaaaay before my grandmother. I also don’t know much about his culture. He’s 1st gen Jamaican who fully assimilated into American culture. Well, beside his food choices. Now, he gambles and goes to church. When I was younger, he used to teach us how to gamble too. And how to cheat and not get caught. We got a lot of free fast food while he taught us. He has gotten more frugal the older he got. And more isolated.

Dating and Relationships.

I don’t date. I have no interest. Well, no, that’s not exactly true. I’ve considered it but I rather have not seek out anything outside of platonic right now. I have a tight knit circle of friends and several other groups of friends I associate with depending on the activity. I’m realizing it seems like I’m using the term “friends” loosely but I swear I’m not. I’m a virgin and I feel nothing about being one until someone goes “*gasp* You’re a virgin really?” and then I end up on high defense saying “So?” Believe or not, that messed with me a lot.

My love life and lack of interest in having one has always been a struggle. In middle school, the group of friends I hung with were becoming more infatuated with love and sex. Yes, middle school, fifth through eighth grade, ages nine to thirteen. But, when they would talked about who’s hot or not, they would look at me funny when I didn’t join in the discussion. Instead of explaining myself, I simply copied other’s reactions and gushed along with them. This instinct followed me through High school til stopped out of annoyance. I became a listener and adviser in their relationships because I really do love stories in many shapes and forms. And I would never turn down hearing a story.


My primary language is English and AAVE. I’ve been living in a neighborhood filled with Blacks and Latinx. Most of my friends are Black and Lantinx. I didn’t meet a white person my age until college. Okay that’s a partial lie. I’ve been in a summer camp that was made up of predominantly white children. But as the only black kid in my age range, I was sorta uncomfortable. I never made lasting friends there. After High School, I spent a year abroad in Tena, Ecuador where I learned Spanish and Kichwa. I still suck at both languages.


Lots of my clothes when I was younger were borrowed or hand-me-downs. Half of them still are. It’s like thrift shopping without the hiked prices thanks to its popularity by rich white people (Thanks rich white people!) All my siblings’ taste varies. In my case, I’m fond of combining loose and tight clothing (tight jeans and a loose sweater/ baggy jeans and a tight top). No makeup. Silver accessories.

I used to have a short bob cut permed. I hated it. But I rather a perm then getting my hair straightened with a hot comb because the back of my neck and big ears would always get burned. It wasn’t until I made a friend with a natural afro that I realized my natural hair was even an option.


Lol I was a nerd with bad grades.


My family practices Santeria, which has historical roots in both Catholicism and Yoruba thanks to slavery (Yay slavery!). However, because the religion is not fully accepted or well-known, I tend to say I’m simply Catholic if asked. Apparently, a Black Catholic is hard to believe. It is assumed all Black folks are Baptists or some branch of Christianity. I have no idea where that stereotype came from. But I can give some guess. (*cough cough* Tyler Perry….).  

As I stated before, I love scifi and fantasy. I especially love urban fantasy involving witches. I blame this love on Practical Magic and Eve’s Bayou, my childhood faves. It’s because of this love that I wish to see more stories with witches of color. And no, I don’t mean that one evil/mysterious southern/Caribbean Voodoo/Hoodoo witch hollywood loves to portray so much. That always plays into the “Black is evil” trope. Give me some damn variety!

I would squeal so hard if the mythology involved in a story isn’t even Eurocentric. I’m not joking. This is serious. When my religion was simply hinted at in the Raven Boys series (It was also a great way of making even more obvious that the character was definitely not white.) and Kenya Wright’s Habitat series, I squealed. All the authors did was write the names of some of the Orishas and I couldn’t help but put my phone down for a moment and inwardly scream with glee. That being said, if a writer does decide to use afrocentric or any religion involving “witchcraft” as a basis, I would personally ask that they make sure is is not a closed religion.

Santeria is, in fact, a closed religion. And while I don’t mind mentions of it in fantasy and even a main character stating they practice it, do not go any further than that. Don’t even research the practices within the religion other than what is public knowledge (And if you don’t have any public knowledge, just ask) Respect that there’s a limit. Anything further spelunking  is consider rude, disgusting, disrespectful and dangerous. There’s things that I don’t even know because I haven’t been properly initiated. And the internet has a lot of these practices exposed when it shouldn’t be so please don’t look into it. Please.


Most of the cooking in the house has been done by my grandmother. Because of her various relationships, our food has always been a mixture of Black American, Gullah, Lantinx and Caribbean influences. It is so good. So, so good!

The only thing I don’t eat of hers is her seafood gumbo because I don’t like shellfish. One of my sisters said I should have my “black card” taken for my distaste. I said she could take it if she can name more black movies than me. She still can’t take it. My other sister wishes we could switch places because she loves crab but is allergic. The crazy girl actually sends her husband to buy some benadryl so she can eat some if we ever have some on the table. Smh. Siblings.  


My family on both sides are quite fond of reunions. On my grandpa’s side, the family uses Fourth of July and Christmas to get together. On my grandma’s side, they tend to host annual summer reunion and send out RSVP invitations complete with schedules of the whole two to three day event. I didn’t mention this under my family life, but both sides of my family are boujee to different degrees. Lots of black sorors and frats members on both sides. I can’t believe that slipped my mind typing.

I’m a little iffy with Christmas. It’s more of a holiday for the older generation and our niece and nephews. The younger generation, however, don’t particularly care for the holiday. For some of us, it’s because it’s not really Jesus’s Birthday and Santa was whitewashed. For others, it’s because we don’t care to feed into the corporate holiday. For most of us, it’s a combination of the two. But we do love getting together when we can. My older sister and I have conspired to celebrate kwanzaa instead for the past two years. So far, it hasn’t grasped the interest of anyone else in the family.


  • Being nerds from a young age, my siblings and I have been called “Oreos” or“Not really black” by kids in school on more than one occasion. We shut them down by fighting. Probably not the best strategy but it was best one I could think of in middle school and below. Made it easier to go back to reading my manga.

  • I got compared to my sisters a lot. It was the absolutely most annoying thing ever. And a major source of my insecurities growing older.

  • Need I address colorism? My highschool was filled with it. #TeamLight v #TeamDark. I was on neither team, because in the region I live, skin color was a pretty long spectrum. I fell in the between. Who came up with this?

  • I’ll admit it. I hate my own tears. They make me feel weak. Which isn’t true…I know. But, it is a mentality I always had. I have depression and PTSD. This isn’t really a secret. I tell people if I’m asked. But have you ever had someone look at you and say, “Really? You don’t seem like the type.” ……

  • I am a black female. I’ve been labelled “Strong” and “Independent” the older I got. By my mother. By my siblings. By my peers. And I get those labels. Even from friends. I loved those labels. I call myself by those labels. I mean, who doesn’t want to be seen as strong and independent? Those are positive affirmations, right? I think they would be. If that wasn’t all the positive labels we could get. Somehow, society has decided we are beings that are incapable of being multifaceted. I was indirectly taught to hate my own tears because black girls don’t cry. You can’t cry and be strong. What a terrible mantra fed to black girl at a young age. So, instead you tell everyone “It’s fine.”

I told my therapist it was fine. Until she told me straight up it was not fine. And it was okay to cry. I don’t like to cry. But I still (involuntarily) did it.

Things I’d like to see less of/Things I’d like to see more of:

  • I’m sick and tired of seeing black and latinx folks being portrayed as only fantasy gangs members. We are not only gang members. That’s a terrible popular myth the media put out there and I hate it even more so when it’s portrayed in SFF genre..

  • I’m tired of having one black person in a novel being described as having skin the color of “midnight.” And he’s (it’s always a he) not even that important to the story

  • I hate how every time someone decides to add a person of color, they have to be ambiguous brown. I’m not saying ambiguously brown don’t exist and don’t need representation but is it really that had for a dark brown skin person to play a major role in a story that’s not about slavery? Speaking of which….

  • Why we always gotta be slaves? Or better yet….

  • Why don’t we exist at all in High fantasy stories? Urban fantasy? Brooklyn wasn’t always the gentrified white town it is now. Still isn’t. How are you erasing people of color from NYC??? We make up way too much of the population to be completely erased

  • Stop racial coding other creatures to surround your white human characters. Especially as the bad guys. That’s just shitty writing. Step up your game!

  • I love Black love

  • I love Gay love. I wish more would follow moonlight’s example and show poc are gay too and gay doesn’t always equal to stereotypical femininity.

  • I love interracial love HOWEVER, can we pair people of color with other people of color as well? I’m starting to hate seeing it always a white person paired with a Poc. Variety damnit!

  • Friendships between boys and girls that don’t transform into love.

  • Friendships between girls that didn’t start out as a rivalry.

  • Different body types besides the skinny and tall. Make a main character that’s fat for once. It’s not a problem.

  • Magical characters of color that aren’t “Noble Savages” or “Wise Monks” that used their magic for personal gain for once instead of waiting for the white hero to come.

  • Nerdy black characters who aren’t 100% competent and cries. One that isn’t in a five token band that always gonna be compare to the white main character. Make the nerd the main character!

That’s all I can think of at the top of my head. But my list really does go on. 

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

The power of Christ in us is perfected in our weakness. Here we see another great paradox of the kingdom of God. In this passage, most Bible scholars believe the “weakness” Paul spoke of was a physical affliction of some kind—"a thorn in the flesh.“So often we pray for strength, when in actuality what the Lord wants is for us to remain in our weakness, utterly dependent upon him. We think our physical thorns will hinder us from serving the Lord, when in reality, the very opposite is true. They are perfecting us so that Christ’s divine power can be revealed through the window of our human weakness.

Let’s talk about Killian Jones...

So, my first reaction to the end of 6x12 was totally, “Was that really necessary?” (Okay, actually it was “The fuck”, but that’s what was implied.) And then Writer Margaret took over and she thought back to some of her favorite redemption arcs and it actually made sense.

Disclaimer: You are well within your rights to disagree with me and I still love you if you do. You are also welcome to skip this if you like, if this frustrates you or makes you angry, ignore it. It’s only my opinion and I won’t be offended if you choose not to be upset further. No judgment. We all bring different life experiences to an episode, so we are all affected differently.

(I’m also not interested in comparing Killian’s arc to Regina, because as much as I love her, I think the writers sometimes forget that she’s still in the middle of hers. He’s gotten a much better, fully fleshed out redemption arc and that’s my final word on that subject.)

To me, as the audience, Killian has been through enough. He’s changed, he’s repented, but the thing is…it’s very clear that he’s not at peace with his past. 

And part of that is because he hasn’t truly made amends. (Bear with me a moment, I know you’re thinking about Belle.)

Think of the best redemption arcs you’ve ever seen. If you’re an ATLA fan, you might think of Zuko. If you’re an FMA fan, you might think of Scar. They both have one thing in common: at some point they face the victims of their crime. Every good redemption arc has that moment. The moment when a murderer stares down a gun held by the girl whose parents he killed and accepts the consequences of his actions.

Since so many of his crimes are centuries old, Killian has never has never been confronted by someone hurt irrevocably by his actions. And yes, he shot Belle, but Rumple wiped that injury away with a wave of his hand–in the end it altered her life very little. In the end, there was very little for her to forgive.

But David… David has a wound that hasn’t fully healed. David has lived under this shadow his whole life. He lost someone he loved. He spent years thinking his father had betrayed him. He and his mother scraped by every year to make up for his father’s loss.

Killian is going to have to confront that.

Now, I know someone out there is going, “What about Liam 2.0?″ And it’s true, Liam fulfills all the same criteria as David. But his story–and by all accounts we’re not fully finished with that story, so it might still tie in–fulfills a different purpose. Liam’s story was about breaking a cycle. 

David, though… When that moment comes, David will represent Killian’s dark, sordid past in it’s entirety.

And David is going to forgive him. It may take him an episode or two, but David is going to look him in the eye and tell him that he isn’t that man anymore. And when David forgives him, it will symbolize every horrible thing Killian has ever done being put truly and finally in the past.

Killian will finally have peace.

Killian will be able to move on.

(And he won’t have to die a fourth fucking time to do it.)

Which means when he finally (finally!) asks Emma to marry him, it will be with his past truly behind him. He’ll be going into his future with his redemption arc fully complete.

The Song

Note: I don’t know about you guys, but I need some water. I got too into this. OH and idk why but Partition reminds me of Bucky. so I used that, I hope that’s okay! thanks for the request, I really hope you enjoyed this! feedback is ALWAYS welcome! .c

Request: Here’s something I think you’d write really well… Bucky is your boyfriend and you’re a singer and you write all of these seriously sexy songs, he sees your show one night and hears all these hot n heavy songs about him and when he gets you home, he does all sorts. - @fridamoss


Singing was one of the things you enjoyed the most. Sure, killing bad guys and fighting alongside your boyfriend and fellow badass teammates couldn’t compare. But this was something you did to get your mind off of it. The process of writing a love song, a song about sadness, or a song about your sexy boyfriend, took you to a place you revisited as often as possible.

You sang at a little open mic place. It had a small stage and a bar, tables littered in between. Pool tables and dart boards near the back. It was usually full when people knew you’d be performing on a certain night during the week. You loved when so many people came to listen to you, even if you were sorta famous for being an Avenger.

Tonight, you were singing a new song you had written. It was about your boyfriend and he was finally able to have a night off. He had been stuck with nightly missions along with Steve and Wanda for a while. Everyone has come to see you, all but them three. Though it was only Bucky coming tonight. Steve had a much needed date with Sharon planned and Wanda was going to be helping Vision with something.

You were extra nervous about tonight. Bucky didn’t know about the songs you sang about him, nor did he know you wrote about him at all. He knew you sang, but this was definitely going to surprise him.

You stared at yourself in the mirror backstage, sighing out. You were wearing a sexy black dress with black heels to match. You tapped your heel nervously against the floor, the sound echoing through the silent dressing room.

The crowd was cheering as Jimmy, the artist before you, had just finished his song. You took a deep breath and walked out of your dressing room, walking down the dimly lit hallway that led to the stage. A girl that worked backstage smiled at you as you walked by. “Good luck!” She said before giving you a gentle pat on your shoulder. You smiled and thanked her softly.

Jimmy walked down the steps and smiled at you. “Good luck out there, Y/N.” He said, holding his guitar by the neck as he gave you a high five. “Thanks Jimmy Jam!” You said, causing him to chuckle at his nickname you gave him a while ago. You slowly walked up the stairs, letting the crowd settle down. Patrick, the owner of the place, was introducing you and you stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for your cue.

Patrick smiled at you, sending you a wink. “And now, who you’ve all been waiting for, may I present to you: Y/N Y/L/N!” The crowd cheered and you walked onto the stage, smiling and waving at the crowd. Patrick gave you the microphone and placed a kiss to both of your cheeks. “Good luck, Y/N.” Patrick said before hopping off the stage. You sighed out and put the mic on the stand.

The crowd finished cheering and you spotted Bucky near the front, a smirk on his face. You winked at him then looked out at everyone. There was a lot more people here than any other night and you swallowed your nerves. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” You asked, the crowd cheering loudly in response. You giggled. “Great. Well, this song is a new one. I wrote it for a certain someone and I hope you like it.” You said, blushing a little as Bucky sat towards the edge of his seat.

The music started playing and the crowd started to cheer, dancing along to the beat. “Driver roll up the partition, please.” Your voice rang through, every lyric sang with sexiness and a sensual feel. Bucky bit his lip as he watched you sing, his eyes drinking in your figure. He listened closely to every word, his eyes glued to yours as you sang words of sultry and utter naughtiness.

You let your hands move up and down your body as you kept singing, staring straight at Bucky. “Hand prints and good grips on my ass.” Bucky’s mouth was agape, his eyes wide, and his thoughts going wild. You knew the effect this song would have on him and you hoped it was working. By the looks of his face right now, you knew you had reeled him in.

You sang and kept your eyes on Bucky. You wrote the last bit in French, knowing Bucky had been brushing up on his language skills. He wanted to learn as many languages as he could, and you knew he was excellent at French. Adding that to the mix was an added bonus. “Est-ce que tu aimes le sexe? Le sexe, je veux dire l'activité physique.” You said, your voice drawing Bucky in even more.

The song came to an end and the crowd cheered as loud as they could, making you smile and blush. “Thank you!” You said before walking off stage. You breathed out and laughed to yourself, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. “Oh my gosh.” You whispered, not believing you just sang that in front of everyone including the man it was about.

You quickly gathered your things and left backstage, walking over to the table Bucky was sitting at. “Hey, baby.” You said, leaning down to press a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, his stubble rubbing against your lips. Bucky turned to you, his eyes following your figure to where you sat across from him. Bucky’s bottom lip was pulled in between his teeth. He was looking at you with that look. That look that meant he wanted you underneath him, begging for him.

Bucky licked his lips and smiled, his white teeth shining as he tucked his hair behind his ear. “That was…” Bucky trailed off, his eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips, then to your cleavage. “Was?” You questioned, leaning in slightly. You raised your heel under the table, rubbing it up against the inside of Bucky’s leg. A small gasp fell from Bucky’s mouth and his eyes shot up to stare into yours. “Doll, we need to get home.” Bucky said, standing to his feet.

You smirked then quickly put on a small frown. “Aww, but I only just finished. Can’t we stay for a bit?” You playfully pouted, slumping your shoulders a tad. “Please?” You added, cupping your hands together. Bucky rubbed his bottom lip, clicking his tongue. 

He stepped over to you and bent down, his metal hand resting on the table as his flesh hand rested on your partly exposed thigh. “Daddy suggests you get your pretty little ass in the car, or he’ll fuck you on this table for everyone to see. Do I make myself clear, Y/N?” Bucky asked, his voice low and taunting.

You gasped and stood to your feet, your pussy becoming wet from his words. Your face was red with blush as Bucky grabbed your hand and kissed your temple. You nervously waved at a few faces in the crowd that said goodbye to you, letting Bucky pull you along to the entrance doors.

The chilly night air made you inhale sharply through your teeth and Bucky hurriedly pulled you along the sidewalk. “Bucky, slow down!” You said, your heels clicking loudly as you all but ran beside Bucky. Bucky slowed per your request and you let out a sigh. “Once we get home, you better be ready.” Bucky said lowly, his arm wrapping around your waist tightly.

You smirked and finally reached the car. Bucky opened your door for you and before you could get in, Bucky came up behind you. You felt his crotch press into you and his hands gently lifted up your dress a tad, his flesh hand rubbing the skin of your inner thigh. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck you right here.” Bucky said, moving your hair to one shoulder, his lips ghosting over the skin of your neck.

A gasp fell from your lips and you closed your eyes. “I-I-” You only managed to let a pitiful stutter fall from your lips as Bucky bit down on your skin, slightly sucking. You moaned out, not caring if you were loud. Bucky smirked and pulled away from your neck with a wet noise. “No reason?” Bucky asked, thrusting his crotch into you.

Bucky was already sporting an erection and your mouth watered at the thought of his glistening red tip and swollen cock. “You wouldn’t want another man to see me get fucked, would you?” You questioned, knowing how jealous and protective Bucky could get.

You smirked to yourself after hearing Bucky sigh heavily and deeply. “Every man in there had his eyes on you. You’re my girl. My Doll. Get in.” Bucky said as he pulled away from you. You bit your lip and got in the car, Bucky shutting your door and crossing over to the drivers side.

Bucky’s hands were all over you as soon as you stepped into the tower, making your way to the elevator. You giggled softly and gasped when you saw Sam and Clint standing near the common room.  Bucky removed his hands from your ass, hoping they didn’t see. “Y/N! How was the show?” Sam asked, a wide smile on his face.

You heard Bucky sigh and you decided to prolong his arousal, making him wait for you. You walked over to the two men, pulling Bucky along. “It was so much fun! Wasn’t it, Bucky?” You beamed, looking up at your overly turned on boyfriend. Bucky nodded, keeping your body in front of his prominent bulge. “It was amazing, baby.” Bucky breathed out shakily, his lips in a tight smile.

Clint raised an eyebrow. “She sang the song.” Sam gasped, looking over at Clint with an amused smile. Clint’s eyes widened and the two men both started to laugh, leaning into each other for support. You blushed and grabbed Bucky’s jacket, pulling him away. “Bye boys.” You sang softly, watching Bucky stare back at them in confusion.

As you stepped into the elevator, Bucky looked down at you. “How’d they know?” Bucky asked, curiosity laced in his husky voice. You shrugged your shoulders a tad. “They found my journal.” You said, being totally honest. Bucky sighed deeply and his hands rested on your hips.

Bucky bent down just enough to where his lips were ghosting over yours. “This dress,” Bucky whispered, tugging on it gently, “needs to go.” Bucky finished, his hands moving down to grip your ass, giving it a harsh spank. You gasped and let out a high pitched moan. Bucky chuckled darkly, his eyes on yours.

The elevator came to a stop and Bucky moved his hands from your ass, pulling you by your hand to his bedroom. Your heels were the only sound in the hallway. Bucky pushed his door open and shut it, shoving your back into it. You grunted softly, looking up at Bucky with an innocent expression.

Bucky bit his lip, his eyes raking up and down your body before they stopped at your mid-section. His hand lifted under your dress, his eyes on your face. You felt his middle finger rub against your clit through your panties, adding a little pressure. Your breathing came out heavy as you looked down, the sight of his arm sticking out from your dress making you whimper.

A soft moan fell from Bucky’s lips as he started rubbing the length of his finger along your slit. “Daddy wants to see how wet you are, Doll. Can he?” Bucky asked, using his other hand to lift your chin up to look at him. You nodded, making a small “mhm” sound. Bucky smirked and used his hands to pull down your panties, his body crouching down as he went.

Bucky’s eyes stayed locked on yours and he was on his knees now, your panties around your ankles. Bucky’s hands made their way up the back of your legs and a shiver coursed through your body. Bucky smirked and lifted your dress, his eyes falling onto your pussy. Bucky let out a breath, licking his lips as a smile tugged at the corners.

You whimpered and shuffled on your heels. “Buckyyy.” You moaned, your impatience growing stronger. Bucky leaned in and used his fingers to spread your lips open. You let your head fall against the door as you felt Bucky’s breath fanning across your pussy. “Y/N, you’re glistening. Are you that turned on?” Bucky asked as if it weren’t the most obvious thing in the world.

You nodded. “I-I am.” You said, looking back down at Bucky. He started to lean in, his tongue sticking out of his mouth. You gasped and breathed heavily, excited to feel his mouth on your pussy. Bucky licked a long stripe from your opening to your clit and you moaned out, your hand flying to his thick hair as the tip of his tongue flicked against your clit.

A groan fell from Bucky’s lips and he attached his lips around your clit, creating small sucking motions as he continued watching your face. Your hips jerked into Bucky and he groaned again, using his tongue to lightly flick across your clit back and forth. “Bucky, yes.” You moaned, tugging on his hair. “More.” You pleaded, watching Bucky’s blue eyes focusing on you.

He smiled against your pussy and he sloppily made out with it, gently wiggling his head back and forth. His hair tickled your thighs and you moaned again, your legs slightly buckling under you. Bucky’s hands held your dress up at your waist, gripping onto you so you wouldn’t fall. “Fuck, you’re so good at this.” You moaned, feeling Bucky’s fingers dig into your waist and you could hear the wet sounds from in between your thighs.

Bucky suddenly pulled away, making you whine. Bucky smirked up at you and his chin was covered in your juices. Bucky slipped your dress over you, letting it drop to the floor. His eyes fell to your breasts, his metal hand reaching up to grasp one. You moaned softly as he pinched your hardened nipple. “You’re so gorgeous.” Bucky said, pulling you over to his bed.

Bucky gently pushed you backwards. You giggled as you bounced slightly on the mattress, biting your lip. Bucky unbuckled his belt, dropping it to the floor. Your eyes were focused on him as he slipped his pants off. You could see his cock in his tight boxers, the sight causing your mouth to water.

You sat up a little to take off your heels, but Bucky grabbed your wrist. “Please, keep them on.” Bucky said, making you smirk. “Yes, Daddy.” You said, leaning back on your elbows. Bucky gripped your ankles, gently yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. “You drive me crazy, Doll. Daddy wants you so bad right now. I need that little pussy of yours.“ Bucky groaned, hovering over you. “I want you to behave, understand?” Bucky asked, staring into your eyes.

Gulping, you nodded. “Yes.” You whispered, feeling small underneath Bucky. “Yes, what?” Bucky asked, spreading your legs open more. You inhaled shakily as his hands left your skin. “Yes, Daddy.” You said, watching Bucky bite his lip. “Good girl.” He praised, standing to his feet. 

“I want you to beg for me, Doll.” Bucky said, slipping off his boxers. You saw his thick cock spring free, a small gasp escaping your lips. You wanted to lean up and shove him into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat, but you knew better. 

Bucky started to slowly stroke his cock, gathering the pre-cum and spreading it along. “You enjoyed teasing me back there, didn’t you?” Bucky asked, the memory of you eye fucking him and seducing him with your hands moving all over your body fresh in your mind. You nodded slightly, letting your eyes slowly drink in his body, until you met his eyes. “I did. I loved it.” You said, moving your right heel to travel up the side of Bucky’s leg.

He smirked and softly slapped it away. You frowned and looked at Bucky innocently. “I want your cock.” You said, spreading your legs more. Bucky’s eyes fell to your pussy and you smirked, reaching your hand down to rub your clit. Bucky growled, quickly moving your hand away. “Behave.” He ordered, making you whine. “Daddy, please. I’m so ready for you.” You said, creasing your eyebrows and biting the tip of your finger.

Bucky watched you closely and you smiled at him. “Please, fuck me. Make me scream.” You begged desperately, watching Bucky’s hand speed up a tad. Bucky swallowed thickly, his eyes raking up and down your body. “Fuck, your pussy is so pretty.” Bucky breathed out, squeezing his cock a little. “Seems like Daddy is losing his patience on his own.” You said, a slight giggle in your voice. Bucky growled and stopped stroking himself.

Bucky gripped your ankles, making you gasp. “You want me to make you scream?” Bucky asked, raising your legs to rest on his broad shoulders. You nodded, licking your lips. “Please, make me scream so loud. I want you to pound into me, make me cum all over you. I need you.” You begged, watching Bucky’s eyes close, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth. “Fuuuck.” He said quietly.

Bucky’s eyes shot open and he gripped his cock, gently rubbing it up and down your slit. You moaned and let your head fall back against the mattress. Bucky slid his tip inside of you, making you gasp. “You’re such a dirty girl.” Bucky said, sliding in further. 

You felt his hands rest by your sides and you looked into his eyes. He smirked and slammed his hips into you. You moaned out louder, his cock filling you up. “Fuck, you’re so big!” You whimpered, making Bucky chuckle. 

He started to thrust in and out of you, his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly. “You’re so tight, Y/N.” Bucky rasped, moving your legs down to wrap around his waist. You gripped onto his hair, your fingers tangling into it tightly. “Fuck me harder, Daddy.” You pleaded, feeling your pussy clench around Bucky’s thick cock. He growled and picked you up by your waist, moving you up towards the headboard.

Your head rested on the pillows and Bucky shoved his cock deeper into you. You moaned, arching your back. Bucky took that chance to suck on one of your nipples, grazing his teeth over it gently. Your hands flew to his hair again, tugging on it harshly. He groaned, his thrusts getting harder, the bed slamming into the wall. “Yes, Daddy!” You screamed. Bucky pulled away and looked at your face, moaning when your mouth fell slack at a particularly hard thrust.

Bucky reached down to rub your clit and you relaxed your back to look down at his cock disappearing in and out of your pussy. “I love your fucking pussy. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Writing and singing about me,” Bucky groaned, his cock twitching, “teasing me. Dammit, you’re so beautiful.” Bucky growled loudly, surely the others could hear you two, though you didn’t care.

Your heels dug into Bucky’s back and you gasped for air, feeling yourself getting closer. You tugged on Bucky’s hair and pulled him down to kiss you. You heard him moan as he bit your lip, his hand squeezing your ass, spanking you. “You’re such a fucking good girl for Daddy.” Bucky said against your mouth. You moaned, fighting your tongues together, his dominating yours.

Bucky pulled away, leaning his head against your forehead. Bucky’s thighs slapped against yours and you felt his cock twitch again, making you cry out. “I’m gonna fucking cum!” You yelled, squeezing your legs around Bucky’s waist tightly. Bucky’s thrusts didn’t falter and his hand sped up on your clit. “Daddy wants your cum, Doll. Fuck yeah, I love it when you clench around m-me, FUCK!” Bucky growled, thrusting so hard you were breasts were bouncing up and down.

Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you started to cum. You screamed, drawing it out like blood murder. “YES, BUCKY!” You cried out, hearing Bucky moaning as loud as he could. You whimpered loudly, feeling Bucky’s cum filling you up in hot spurts, slowly dripping out of you.

Bucky slammed into you a few more times, riding out both of your orgasms. Bucky collapsed on top of you, both of your breathing heavy and coming out in short huffs. “Holy shit.” Bucky rasped, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. You held Bucky close, your pussy throbbing even more than before. “God, I need to sing to you more often.” You said, breathless. Bucky chuckled lazily, moving off of you.

Bucky sighed, completely worn out. “Fuck.” He said, a wide smile on his face. You turned your head to look at him and you smiled, reaching for his hand. “That was so,” “Amazing.” Bucky finished, making you giggle. 

You slowly sat up, a groan falling from your lips. Bucky helped you up, slipping off your heels. “Was I too rough?” Bucky asked worriedly, standing to his feet. You blushed, loving how he was concerned. “No, I’m just a little sore is all.” You said softly.

You watched Bucky leave and come back with a damp wash rag, cleaning you both up. Bucky gave you one of his t-shirts to wear and he slipped on a pair of clean boxers. He handed you a pair of clean panties you had in his drawer, helping you slip them on. 

You exchanged shy glances and a knock on the door stopped you from saying something. Bucky walked over and opened it and you saw Sam standing there, his eyes meeting yours.

“Can you sing to me?”


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I Like It

Request: I have kind of a fetish for temperature play (mostly cold) so I was wondering if you could do something that relied heavily on buckys metal arm - @abigailredgrave

Triggers: smut, unprotected sex, oral (fr), kinda dom!bucky, sergeant!kink

Word Count: 1600+

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long, like literally 2 and a half months

Originally posted by elves-n-angels

There was no doubt that Iceland wasn’t beautiful, But you weren’t here for scenery. Actually, there was a Hydra base here. It had been spotted by the local authorities and not taken seriously. But when the officer who reported it went missing it was something the team couldn’t ignore.

Ever since you and Bucky had got together Steve always put you two together on missions. He trusted the two of you to look after each other while he would stay with some of the least capable S.H.I.E.L.D agents. And, even though you weren’t an official Avenger, you were treated as such.

The base was small. Only two people needed to be there, so you and Bucky were chosen.

‘We got any coffee, darlin’?’ you had just got out of the shower, quickly slipping into your favourite shirt and shorts (AKA bucky’s shirt and some clean boxers). You were walking into the tiny kitchen when you saw Bucky bent over, head stuck in one of the cupboards. His ass was stuck out and you couldn’t resist yourself. Taking your right hand, you swung it as far back as you could. Bringing it down harshly on his backside, you heard a slap then a small yelp from the supersoldier. You giggled as he turned to find you, your arms resting across your body; right hand covering your mouth.

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  • What she says: I'm fine
  • What she means: It annoys me when Jekyll's described as the 'good one' as opposed to the 'evil one' in the Jekyll and Hyde relationship. Jekyll’s not a monster, but he’s definitely no saint. The whole POINT of the drug he made was to create an outlet for all the less savory tendencies that he wanted to experience, but can’t as a respectable man of high society. Hyde isn’t Jekyll’s literal opposite, he’s a personification of all the lusts and desires that Jekyll felt, as a gentleman, he couldn’t express, like indulging in prostitution and murder. Hyde is Jekyll’s every dark desire made flesh. Plus, I should point out that ‘good one’ Henry Jekyll keeps taking the drug, EVEN AFTER HYDE SAVAGELY TRAMPLES ALL OVER A LITTLE GIRL AND HAS TO PAY BLOOD MONEY TO HER FAMILY TO PREVENT THE LAW COMING AFTER HIM. Jekyll gets a thrill out of Hyde’s illicit activities. He essentially does it all for shits and giggles. We don't even know a QUARTER of the stuff he gets up to as Hyde. Even after he gets scared by turning into Hyde while asleep, he returns to the rush of the drug only a few months later. He knows full well he might hurt someone else - but that doesn’t matter, he can simply change back to Jekyll, no harm done to his social life! He only stops taking the drug for pleasure altogether when Hyde gets into serious trouble by murdering Sir Danvers Carew, and has to flee back to his other personality to escape repercussion. I sympathize with Henry Jekyll, he might even be a relatively decent man, but he's not the 'good' one. Never the 'good' one.

I am anger,
and chest aches,
and it’s my fault,
I know it’s all my fucking fault.

I am stop fucking leaving,
and I just wanted you to stay,
and if you have to go,
please take me with you.

I am bruised knuckles,
and shaky hands,
and a sobbing mess
In midnight showers where no one can hear.

I am rotting flesh,
and vacant eyes,
and no one is home anymore,
my body is not my home anymore.

I am rejection,
and never enough,
and no one will ever love you,
you don’t even love you.

—  I am a cathedral of almost lovers and we should have made it.
Show Me Where it Hurts (will you make it okay?) (Oliver/Felicity; T)

Summary: Set immediately post-5x17. Felicity patches Oliver up.

A/N: Well, I never thought I’d be writing these two again, but here we are. I actually really enjoyed this episode for the first time in a long time. It was a great character exploration for Oliver and I felt like this was the show I signed up for in the first place. This little drabble is just my way of trying to process that.

I hope you enjoy, and please remember to hit that reblog button and write something in the tags if you enjoyed!

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

“John, it’s - it - it - it’s over for me. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m shutting everything down.”

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all the strings attached


word count: 1,042

A/N: I’ve seen a couple of smuts with this theme lately and I wanted to write one of my own so creds to @hopefullymendes & @babyshawwn for inspiring me to write this

**warning: SMUT**

I unlocked my phone, texted Shawn asking him to come over then waited for a reply. It came quickly; he knew why I wanted him to come over. He said, ‘Be there as soon as I can.’ and I waited quite impatiently. His house was less than ten miles from mine, but what I was awaiting made me more impatient than ever before.

I felt bad about it, horrible even. I really did. When Shawn and I called each other over for sex it made me feel like we were using one another. In a way, we somewhat were. We were best friends, both single, and both with needs. We saw no harm in having meaningless sex every once in a while. We promised to keep it meaningless no matter what. No feelings, absolutely meaningless to the both of us.

Calling each other over causally for sex helped us both remember that there were no strings attached. Sometimes the sweet pet names would slip, even though it was specifically what we had promised not to do. We ended up apologizing afterwards but it seemed to become more of a regular thing the more we hooked up.

Still lost in my thoughts about the whole situation, I jumped whenever Shawn burst through my door. My eyes quickly diverted to the lanky figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing his usual outfit of black jeans with a grayish blue shirt, the sleeves pushed up and a watch decorating his wrist, but he made it look phenomenal.

“I’m assuming you wanted me to come over for the same reason you usually do?” He asked, wearing a smug smile on his lips. My expression matched his whenever I replied with a ‘Yes.’ Clothes were soon to be found strewn all over my bedroom floor, being thrown wherever once they were peeled off our bodies that were craving each other so intensely.

Shawn’s lips found my neck and then trailed to my collarbone. For the first time, my skin felt hot from his touch. Where his hands gripped onto my hips, where his mouth trailed kisses down my flesh, where his forehead rested against the crook of my neck, it all burned. I fluttered my eyes open and closed and moaned at the newly found pleasure of his skin burning against mine.

We were both more than ready for what was soon to come. Me being the one who initiated this, I had been aroused since before Shawn arrived. Shawn seeing my neediness made him more than ready enough.

He lined himself up at my centre, throbbing and struggling to keep himself from ramming himself into me at that very moment. He hovered over me and his eyes bore into mine as he slowly slid in. His body was already perspiring slightly from the intense kissing we’d already done. His agonizingly slow thrusts tormented my aching body.

“Faster, Shawn.” I begged. He complied and picked up his speed, thankfully. He rested himself on his forearms. Our skin barely grazed against one another’s but it drove me insane. I placed my left hand on Shawn’s cheek and brought his face down to meet mine. I pressed my lips to his, something I’d never done before while we had sex. His lips were enticing and sweet and I wanted to kiss them as much as I possibly could. Our tongues explored each other’s mouths all while Shawn’s thrusts were continuous. Sounds of Shawn thrusting into my wet heat, the bed squeaking, and both of our moans could be heard.

He bottomed out, his length filled me completely and I moaned his name against his now raw lips. His pace was still fast enough for both of us, yet gentle in a way. I enjoyed it more than I ever had before. In many ways, it way much more intimate. However, I couldn’t complain. My hands ran down his chest; I felt his heart beating rapidly just like mine was. His fingers moved to my clit, arousing me that much farther. My fingernails dug into the skin of his back whereas they’d previously been on his abdomen. I needed something to grab onto.

“I’m close, baby. You’re so tight.” He managed to moan out. The look in his eyes was lecherous when I gazed up at them. His mouth gaped open. His lips looked more plump and alluring than ever and I took the chance to kiss them once more. I was close too. I was more sensitive than ever, able to feel every inch of his length and every detail of each inch. I moaned into Shawn’s ear as I came, motivating him to drag out my high as long as he could by thrusting harder into me.

My body felt nothing but an orgasmic bliss from Shawn. I arched my back against him and his arms wrapped around me. He rested his head on my shoulder while he came, his hot breath fanning over my skin. His thrusts were slow and sloppy but still continued. He pulled out of me and rolled over beside me.

“Holy shit.” Shawn breathed out.

“Agreed.” I replied to him. This time was so much different than all the pointless hook ups before. We both knew it too. There was passion and intimacy, something we’d never felt together before. I’d never felt it before at all. “So much for no strings attached.” I barely mumbled it but Shawn still heard.

“What if I told you I want all the strings attached, every single one of them?” He questioned me. His eyes gazed into mine, looking for an answer because my mouth couldn’t answer him immediately. I laid there like an idiot, just staring at Shawn. His fingers traced over my skin while he waited for an answer.

"I’d love to have that. You don’t know how hard it’s been to keep the feelings away. Even before we ever slept together, I couldn’t keep them away.” I shyly confessed.

"I know, I’ve been going through the same thing.” he told me, “So does this mean forever now?”

"Forever, Shawn.” I promised. He pressed his lips to mine gently before pulling me against his bare chest, where I’d stay for the rest of that night.

anonymous asked:

Being the biggest garnet fan I've ever met here... Are you satisfied about how her character has been shown in recent seasons? (Don't get me wrong, I love ruby and sapphire and I always will but I feel the personality of garnet is disappearing and it is nothing compared to what she was in the first season And now she only dedicates talk about "fusion this" "fusion that" Is something sad for me because she was my favorite characters and was one of the reasons I endure hiatus after hiatus :(

This got long as shit because I ADORE Garnet of course and have actually a lot to talk about in regards to this!

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“Fool Me Twice” (Bad Boy!Jooheon AU)

(GIF Credit to @wonhontology)

Part One

Title: Fool Me Twice

POV: 1st

Rating: Mature. Smut, cursing, drinking, etc.

Summary: He says that you’re different, but he’s not the best at showing it. 

“So are you guys dating, then?”


My friend gave me a look like she didn’t believe me, and at this point I was only trying to convince myself.  

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Just Had To Ask

[Reader X Tama Tonga]

[Notes; This is my first story ever where I’ve written two point of views. Take it easy on me, people. Tell me what you think.]

     “Nick, I dare you to.” Matt said, tilting his head to my bedroom door- backhanding Nick’s chest. Nick’s head snapped to face his brother. “Are you serious?” Nick asked, looking shocked. “Even I’m not that stupid.” Matt scoffed at his brother, shining his pearly teeth. “Didn’t know you were such a baby, bro. You afraid?” Matt intrigued, uncrossing his arms to stick his hands in his sweat’s pockets.

     “What? No. It’s just.. a woman’s room, Matt.” Nick said, stating it obviously- turning his left hand palm up in a questioning manner. “It’s private.” He argued, knowing better than to get himself in such a foolish trap. “Come on.. She takes long ass showers at the arenas, it wont be any different at her house. She’s probably in there thinking about you right now, Nick.” Matt joked, poking at his brother’s side.

     Matt only stopped to bring one hand to his privates. Closing his eyes, and moving two fingers in the come here motion, he moaned. “Oh, Nick.. Oh, Nicky don’t stop. Right there!” Matt whined- louder at the end, impersonating what he imagined it must be like for me to masturbate. Tama chuckled, a little too loud. “Stop.” Nick demanded, under his breath- shoving Matt. “Stop?” Matt shoved back, in his normal voice. He thumbed up the bathroom door over his shoulder. “Have you seen (Y/N)? She’s a fucking babe, bro.” Matt laughed out, keeping his voice down. “Yeah, I’ve fucking seen her. And I respect her, unlike you two..” Nick stated, turning a shade of pink- before Tama pipped up.

     “I’ll do it.” Tama said, peeling his back from the hall’s wall. “Yeah?” Matt laughed out, not believing him. “Yeah.” Tama repeated. “Stand watch?” He asked, looking at both Jacksons. Nick rolled his eyes. “Fuck you guys.” Nick pushed. “You’re on your own.” He finished, patting Tama’s shoulder as he passed him.

     I turned the shower’s knob, killing the rainfall from above. Wrapping myself in a warm, white towel, I opened the door- peeking outside to see any sign of the boys. I passed the living room, to see Nick by himself. “Where is everyone?” I asked, clutching my towel close to my chest- letting the water drip into a pool, from my wet hair. Nick looked at me, but didn’t answer. I figured that he didn’t hear me, until he started to bite at his bottom lip. “Nick..” I said, pulling him from a daydream. “Hm?” He hummed, bring his eyes back to attention. I couldn’t help but smile at how helpless he was. “Where’s Matt and Tama?” I whispered.

     “Don’t know.” Nick replied, pulling his face away- not letting himself look too long. “Thanks. Do you need anything?” I offered. Nick’s forehead vein bulged, and he sucked his bottom lip through his teeth- starring forward. “Nope.” He pleaded, voice cracking in the process. “Goodnight, Nick.” I smiled, aware of what I was doing. “Night, (Y/N).” Nick half-yelled back, clearing his throat immediately after- still denying me his attention.

      Bringing my eyes back to the hall’s walls, I saw a figure shoot behind a door. “Matt?” I called out, knowing that it had to be one of the two. He had jumped into a spare bedroom, across from my master. “Matt.. what’re you..” I started, almost mentally muttering- stopping myself only to see my bedroom door open. 

      Ignoring the other Jackson, I found somewhat of an explanation when I propped my body against the door frame. I stood in my towel, waiting for Tama to turn around at the thud of my presence. Apparently, he hadn’t heard it. Tama sat on the side of my bed, starring down at whatever was in his hands. Seeing that my bedside table was open, I quickly figured out what it was.. or they were.

      “You know, you just had to ask to see them.” I spoke up, spooking him- causing him to jump and drop the stack of seven or eight Polaroids. “Fuck. I.. I-” Tama started, attempting to explain. “You- You just.. were.. digging through a woman’s nightstand, in her bedroom.. like a pervert?” I smiled in the dim lighting, curious as to where he would take that. I couldn’t see much of his face, for the only lighting was through the moonlit window frames and a hallway’s lamp a few rooms away. 

      “No. I was just.. I-” Tama tripped over his words, fumbling the stack of pictures he recollected. He stood and faced me, not showing that he slipped one into his back pocket. “You-” I repeated, again. “Took a tour for myself, and then I got.. distracted. I apologize.” Tama said, handing back the group of photos. “Quite the collection.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear before walking past me. “Goodnight.” Tama smirked in the hall, winking before turning his back. I shut the door. 

      One night. One night, (Y/N). I thought, sitting at the foot of my bed in the now- damp fabric. Our event was in my hometown, and I had just bought a big, brand new house. It was a little bigger than needed, I will admit- so it was a nice idea to invite the boys to stay over tonight- knowing it would also save a hotel’s expense, killing two birds. Adam and Kenny were at a local bar, and Nick, Matt, and Tama agreed. No, there wasn’t terms and condition to the sleepover- but digging through my personal stuff wasn’t something I thought I’d have to ban.

      Pulling myself to my feet, I figured it was a good idea to lock the door- considering just how curious everyone was being. Kicking past the remaining unpacked boxes, I stumbled to the nightstand. I tapped the metal lampshade, bringing instant life to the light. Laid open, my drawer exposed a vibrator, a journal, and some mailed magazines. “Son of a bitch..” I huffed at the thought of him digging through this, embarrassed. 

      “What’d you find- a sex diary about her boyfriend over here?” Matt jabbed to Tama, shooting his eyes to Nick. Nick flipped the bird to his brother, smirking. “No.. I didn’t find anything.” Tama lied, shoving the picture further down his pocket. “Well, did she find you?” Matt asked, sternly. “Yeah, but I was just leaving, so she didn’t know.” Tama fibbed again. “Sweet house, though.” He said, looking up to the high rafters- changing the subject. “Uh, too sweet.” Matt agreed, shaking his head. 

      “I’m going to take one of the rooms, you should too.” Matt said to Tama. “You can just go crawl in bed with..” Matt tried with Nick, before Nick shut it down. “Shut the fuck up.” Nick laughed, easing the tension between the two. 

      “See ya tomorrow, guys.” Tama quipped, making his way to the spare. He shut the door and flipped on the light. Throwing himself to bed, he pulled out the stolen picture- soaking in what was imaged. “Holy shit..” He mumbled to himself. “Baaaaby.” Tama ran his fingers over the small eight by ten print, feeling his crotch tighten. It was a simple picture, really. If you considered three fourths naked, taking personal and private pictures of fucking yourself simple. They weren’t for anyone specific, they were for me. I felt good in them. 

      Tama licked him lips, and switched his vision to the flat screen mounted to the wall across the room. He grew sick with guilt and remorse, and pitched the picture to his suitcase- face down. Mental pictures of me flooded his brain, forcing blood to rush to his groin. Tama exhaled sharply, and grabbed the remote from the stand- flipping on the television as fast as he could. 

      An hour or so had passed, and he had no luck of falling asleep. An urge of guilt- mixed with pleasure, burned in his brain and blood. “Fuck. Fuck.” Tama resisted, pulling his hand from sitting on top of his package. He kept trying to focus on the show, not my fingers and where they were placed. How my face screamed arousal, fucking myself. How the thin, white mesh- barely there thong was slid to the side, allowing myself the room. How much he would have begged to stick his dick where my digits dug, and how much his cock had throbbed for me over the years- watching me in just a little bit more than what I was in in the print. 

      Tama hadn’t noticed his hand, tugging at his half-erect flesh, until there was a light knock at the door. He immediately retracted his hand, and glanced to the photo lying on top of his bag. “Just a minute.” He spoke, loudly. Tama jumped from the comforter, tangling his foot inside of the sheets- pushing him to the floor. Of course, I heard the thud. He’s a two-hundred and ten pound man made of muscle, we all probably heard the thud. He shoved the secret deeper into his bag, and covered it with clothes.

      The door cracked- just enough for it to show his figure, and Tama smiled. “Hey.” He smiled down, seeing that it was me and not either Jackson. “Can’t sleep?” I asked, looking at the rotating, lit, leaf fan on the ceiling.  “Uh, nah.” Tama replied, laughing a little nervously- which I had never seen him do before. “Are you.. okay?” I questioned, bringing my eyes to how he was standing. His lower body was sheathed behind the wall, and just above his abs were presented. “Did you want something?” He asked, ignoring my question- cutting right to the point. “Alright, ass.” I shrugged my brows together, tapping my finger against my lips. “I know that.. I have.. nine of what you saw. And now there’s only eight. So, unless you’re selling them to the brothers, your brother, Cole, or Omega.. I’d like it back.” I pushed, knowing that beating around the bush wasn’t in mind when it came to talking to Tama. 

      As if he contemplated slamming the door in my face, his smile dropped and so did all of his urges. He stepped out from behind the wall, and opened the door more. “Well.. fuck.” Tama said, knowing he was caught. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He tried. “Yeah, you keep saying that.” I whispered, trying not to draw attention from any potential prying ears. Daring so, I pushed myself ahead, a breath’s length from his shirtless stomach- forcing him to let me in. 

      “Hey, I told you it was quite the collection.” Tama recited in a whisper, stepping to his bag to retrieve what was mine. I shut the barrier once he had turned his back to me, and pulled my over sized shirt above my head- throwing it to the ground. Left in just lace panties, I pushed back my hair just in time for when he faced me. Picture in hand, Tama turned around. “What’re you..” silked through his lips like fine wine- only being able to look at my bare chest. 

      “I thought maybe you could.. see me for yourself. In person.” I couraged up enough to offer. Lust-filled eyes dove to mine as he stepped across the wooden floor- closing the gap between us. “(Y/N)..” He moaned, removing the strand of hair I missed from my shoulder. His eyes drop, and so did his fingertips- skimming my breast bone. “You’re so beautiful.” Tama said to himself, bringing his eyes back to mine. Delicately, his thumb danced along my jawline before he dragged his lips to mine. 

      Tama pulled back, pausing to see if it was okay- if it was what I wanted. I placed my hand to his abs. Jesus fucking Christ, they were so.. hard, so sculpted. Mashing my nose back into his, I shoved him backwards until he hit the end of his bed. He grabbed both of my arms, and pulled me into his lap- never breaking the heated kisses. “Are you sure..” Tama finally broke to whisper, in the tone he had used before. 

      “Oh,” I chuckled. “so you’re not so bad boy, all the time. Are you?” I sang against his neck, planting a string of sloppy lip locks. “Don’t fucking push me.” Tama threatened into my eardrum, and I could feel his sly-full smile. Sucking on his throat, I could feel a pulsing throb beat under my- and his clothes. I gasped at realizing just how much there was of him that pulsed and throbbed, and ground my hips into his print. 

      “Holy shit.” I whimpered, at his cock’s length- driving my pussy to drip. Skyrocketing his ego, he snicked at my whine. “God, I love looking at that pretty mouth of yours.” Tama admitted, eyes widened- fooling anyone else that he had taken something. “Let me show you just what this pretty mouth can do.” I sulked, pushing his chest enough for him to get the hint. Tama etched to lying on his back, and I yanked myself from him lap. A shift of his muscles later, he was lying against the headboard, and I was tugging at his sweats. 

      Bordering his cock, I stopped pulling. Before he could ask why, I set my lips to his left v outline. His skin was so hot, and boiled with need. I trailed the tip of my tongue down the fine line, and paused at the base of his dick. I nipped at his skin- just enough to hurt, but instantly cooled it with my tongue. “(Y/N).. Jesus..” Tama groaned, impatient. I pulled the material over his bulge, letting his member slap his stomach. Nothing. Neither, wow. I noted. 

      Dropping my face, I kept my eyes in the position they’d sit in for most of the night- to his. I let my thumb run along his base, to the tip- and circled his head. I heard him suck in a sharp, almost painful, breath through his grit teeth and felt his hugging feet jolt against my legs. “So sensitive.. Are you sure you want to do this?” I mocked. “Shut the fuck up.” He demanded, earning a wicked smile. 

      “Wait.” broke me from my concentration, just as I was to put his head to my tongue. Tama’s palm skimmed against my temple, pushing my hair out of the way again. “Go get your camera..” He asked. In a second’s time, I jumped from my bed and threw on my shirt. 

      As if my life depended on it, I rushed back into Tama’s room- still careful enough not to get caught, and shut his door. Pitching him the contraption, he shook his head and smiled. I crawled back to my position, grabbing his cock in my hand. He hadn’t drawn attention to the camera, and watched on as I jerked up and down. Pulling myself forward, I let a strand of drool seep from my lips- like honey would from a jar, landing on his tip. I ran my thumb around, pushing saliva as far down his dick as I could. “Please, fuck. Don’t make me fucking beg.” Tama spat, way too loud. 

      Flattening my tongue, I slipped from the base one last time to the top, and sucked down as much as my throat would allow me to. “Ah,” I heard him choke- throwing his hands to my hair. “Yeah, just like that.” He encouraged, smacking his head back to the headboard. Up and down, I paced myself on his rod- leaving enough to lubricate his cock, allowing me to slip deeper and deeper each time I went down. Tama snatched the camera up from the comforter with one hand, and gripped a fistful of hair with the other- gagging me. 

      A flash or two drove me to seeing how far I could go, how much I could suck. “Fuck, baby..” Tama groaned, snapping a picture of the deep throat. “Slow down.” He heaved, breathless. Ignoring his command, I hallowed my cheeks and gave enough room for my fingers to snake around his base. I bobbed my head with a perfect rhythm- jerking and sucking him off, at once. 

      “Stop. Stop, stop.” Tama ordered, tensing every muscle in his body to stop him from spilling. He chuckled just enough for me to barely hear. “Let me feel that sweet pussy tighten on it..” He purred, with no hint of patience left. “Lay on your back.” He urged, pulling himself to his knees. 

      I did as I was told, as waited in the thick cloud of tension- uncertain of where he was taking this. Taking both my thighs, he hooked my legs over his- jerking me closer to him. “Tama..” I began, being cut off. “Shh.. I got you, baby.” He whispered, running the tip of his cock up and down my soaked slit- painfully slow. “Be a good girl and take my cock, okay?” coarsed through my eardrums. I snapped my head in agreeance. “Plea..” was all I could try, before sucking in all of the lingering oxygen possible at the force of his cock, shoving inside me in one thrust. 

      I watched him study my facial expressions, learning what I liked and didn’t like- how much I could take, and couldn’t. He plunged his unfairly sized cock into the deepest parts of my cunt- hitting my g-spot every time. Three or four fucks in and I was already feeling the fire ignite. Ramming his rod, he dripping sweat onto my burning skin- cooling it instantly. “Oh my fucking God, woman.. You feel incredible.” Tama charmed, pausing inside to take a break. “Do me a favor.” I lightly laughed a “Yeah.” out. “Do it.” 

      With that, I knew what he meant- and I forced myself to grind down on his pipe. Using the bed as leverage, I fucked myself and did all of the work. Tama tended to the camera, hovering it just above both of our bodies connection. Flashes upon flashes, he caught more than he needed to. “Fuck!” He yelled, not minding the house guest. He threw the camera the the edge of the bed, and wrapped both arms around my waist. “Cum for me, baby.” I cooed, knowing that this was the only thing he had his mind on anymore. 

      A handful of Oh’s and Ah’s, Fuck’s and Tama’s later, I clenched tightly to his dick, seeping my juice to somehow escape the tight hold. Maybe it was that, maybe. Maybe it was the moaning, groaning, gasping and gripping- but Tama wasn’t far behind me. He slammed a hand down next to my face, and shoved his head in the crane of my neck- biting down onto my collarbone. Pulling out at the last possible moment, Tama spat his cum to my stomach- breathing in sync to the pulses his dick allowed. 

      Collecting ourselves as he laid on top of me, Tama started to laugh- and so did I. “I had no idea.. I thought, but I didn’t..” I said. “You thought?” He said, lifting his face from my chest. “I mean.. yeah, of course I did. Look at you.” I smiled, poking at his abs. “Look at you.” He repeated, soaking in the mess he had left on my flesh. 

      “Just ask next time, damn.” Rolling my eyes, I beamed. “Next time, huh?” He asked, reaching for the camera again. “Yeah.. Next time.” I confirmed.

      “Next time.” He smiled, sticking the window to his eyes, and lens to his sex.

Ppl thinking Hannibal was part of the superwholock fandom drama were in neither of those fandoms. Back in 2013-2014 Hannibal was the outcast fandom when all that shit w superwholock&bieber was happening, why? beause the main ship in the show was “toxic” and it looked like we were a small fandom that wouldn’t last (ha!)

Most of the famous posts, at the time, were comic sans posts of Sherlock trying to befriend Hannibal to later be mocked by him for his misuse of the word “sociopath” and the general joke was that we were a sophisticate fandom full of memes but we never made drama outside our own.

In the end, the only “friends” Hannibal fandom made were Parks and Rec (bc of the interaction between both official accounts owned by nbc) The Blacklist (same reason), In the Flesh because they also experienced a sudden cancellation and a little collaboration with Clexa shippers. 

This has been a little piece of Tumblr history(?)…so yeah let Superwholock be the fandom of queerbaiting and let Hannibal out of that.

it’s near unsettling
how intricately his framework
mirrors my own

-how neatly i am captured!

the gentle white
of his essence ripples
between my dusky shades

& we are one.

at night, my breaths rise
& fall in tandem to his sweet pulse.
he hears my thoughts

& he wakes. he opens.

minds beget touch begets
feeling- the heart - & all
is blurred together, for always

this flesh is but a dream.

prompt: “whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.“ // @definegodliness

anonymous asked:

Hi love! I hope you're doing well! Can you write a scenario in which the Sakamaki's get surprised by finding their s/o playing Clair de Lune? (on that one piano which Laito always plays) You're amazing<3

I’m doing well indeed, hopefully you too anon-chan! I love Clair de Lune, I put it on when replying to this :)

It was late. As his prey, you were supposed to always remain on guard. But the sight of the black piano in the room made your heart flutter. Ever since you came to the mansion, your previous hobbies and passions had all been as if erased by the continous distress. But you walked into the room, noticing the bookshelves and paintings before letting a finger press down on the white key.

Shuu : 

“Do you play?” 

You refrained the absurd squeal from leaving your lips and observed the vampire sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall right next to you. Your heart settled slowly but surely. You nodded. 

“Then play.” For what appeared like the first time, Shuu removed his earphones and closed his eyes. Clair de Lune. It matched with the pale moonlight that passed the clear glass of the window a few feet away. And you played. Your fingers danced in a slow rhythm across the monochrome keys. Throughout the song you noticed from the corner of your eyes those blue and piercing eyes glued on your form. 

And before the song ended, the left hand was brutally interrupted. Blocked by a pale one holding on to your wrist. Shuu was standing. It only took the flicker of an instant for you to feel his lips at your neck, fangs grazing at the sensitive skin. The reason was unknown, but the smooth music changed the atmosphere in the room, the passion swayed between the two of you and kept going till the morning sun. 

Reiji : 

“What are you doing at such an hour?”

Your eyes abruptly searched for the origin of his voice, right by the door. You swallowed the growing tightness in your throat. You very much wanted to play, your fingers almost tingled with this need to produce sound. Would the vampire deny you that craving? 

“I was about to play. It’s been a while since I touched a piano” You replied, your eyes looking down to look at the smooth keys. 

“Play. I hope it can not be worse than what I’ve heard coming from my brothers.”

Through the subtle criticisms, you sat down and let your hands wander across the melody of Clair de Lune. 

As the song neared the end, you played the final note. Reiji approached right behind you, leaning over your form. “Do not stop. Entertain me some more.”

Ayato : 

He wasn’t the type to enjoy such music. Which is why, seeing him slowly enter the room to observe your performance was a surprise. 

“Tch, don’t look at me like that, Chichinashi. Shuu’s always there when you play, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t either.” 

The pressure of his green eyes observing your every motion made something pulse within you, though you refrained any possible excitement to play conveniently. And as the melody became stronger, persistent and strong, you felt the breath of his being on your skin, making each note cease to silence. 

“Why…” He breathed out. “Does your blood smell stronger…more tempting than ever when you play? Chichinashi…keep playing, and let me taste your blood at the same time.”

Kanato : 

“Why are you here?” Kanato’s cold firm voice reached you with promptness. He glared with suspicious eyes. You were supposed to stay by his side at all times. “Were you expecting Laito perhaps? Is that why you’re playing on his piano?” 

“It wasn’t my intention Kanato. Just as much as you love singing, I love playing piano.” 

He frowned, vanishing from your sight only to be sensed right by your side. “Are you comparing my voice to your playing? You should stop being so arrogant. Tch…play then, show me how good you are at it.”

Your finger hesitantly played Claude Debussy’s melody and though it appeared to work on the vampire when noticing his shoulders relaxing to the music, the fear of his reaction made some dissonant noises. You observed his chuckles, and stopped playing. He placed his slender hands around your face. “Ah, so fragile…You can’t even play this properly… Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it for you, I’ll get rid of all anxiety.”

Laito : 

Oh how enchanted he was to seeing you play on his piano. He made sure to be discreet, not interrupting while you performed Clair De Lune. And his emerald eyes gazed at your form, while he reminisced his lingering touches on you with the rhythm of such a sweet melody. And within the final notes, the vampire clapped his hands, anticipating your wonderful expression of perfect surprise and astonishment. 

Frightened of the male’s reaction, you immediately stood up from the piano, though he approached vividly with a smile plastered across his face. “Oh no no Bitch-chan ~ Don’t worry, it was perfect, I don’t mind you playing on this at all! You should have told me you played piano. We could have played together! Letting our fingers touch the same places…Isn’t it exciting? Ah, it makes me want to eat you up right away now~”

And surely Laito’s words were never to be taken as a joke. It was within a few minutes that his hand reached between your legs, that his bites dug into your flesh. He made love to you against the piano. 

Subaru : 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

He didn’t like this room. Mostly because of his brother. Laito would always spend his time in there, and anything having to do with Laito was to avoid.

“It’s been a while since I last played…” You said. You understood what that precious tone of a voice implied. It wasn’t a good idea to irritate the vampire any further. Rising from the piano bench, you sensed the sudden hand on your shoulder pushing you back down again. 

“I..It’s fine. You can play, it’s not like I care, so just play.” 

And you did. Perhaps with some hesitation and uncertainty, but you played. The fingers moved as if on their own, transported by the strength of such a soothing melody. Thoughts were echoing inside. Would he enjoy? Would he be touched? 

The ephemeral pleasure of playing for someone came to an end. You turned around, noticing that Subaru was looking down, avoiding your gaze. 

“T-this…what you just did…teach me…”

You end up the girl who loves everyone
at arm’s length, telephone pole distance
yet atomic bomb quarantined when it came
to the boy whose ribs can enclose you as if it were home.
But you don’t want him to witness the explosion, you said.
So keep him away from this, from you and all your bits,
This half of a collarbone will never be enough of an airport
for his palms to land unto. Let’s talk about hurt
as if it were the only language we ever learned to speak
and everything else diminishes. No theories,
nor philosophies, no bible. Cancel God
as if no flesh of yours were ever made from His flesh
first, and Eve and Adam didn’t make a mistake.
They were meant to love somebody else 
because loneliness cannot be filled by another person
but a feeling instead. And you were not born
for this. For this kind of hurting and loving
you do at a distance. You were meant  for something
close. Ribcage closer, ribcage closest.
—  Close. Closer. Closest. || Kharla M. Brillo