#// who could have [ and in some ways did ] make each other worse

[yourladyofmercy]

Back to Me || J.B.

☆ — Thunderbolts ! James "Bucky" Barnes x afab ! reader ☆ — He knew that you couldn't resist helping him, and he couldn't resist crawling back to you the moment he knew he had a chance to. Your wish for him to come back to you was granted, and yet he happened to be too late. ▹ —Content & Warnings : no use of Y/N, foul language, angst, past relationship mentioned, did i mention angst?, happy ending, MINOR THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS! ▹ — WC : 3.9 k ▹— A/N : oh my god hi this is my first post ever im peeing myself .. it took me so long to figure out how to do angst clean-up so they could have a happy ending so here you go !! I hope you like it xoxo

The sound of the buzzing from your fence. The notification from your doorbell app. you never planned to have someone here, especially this evening. Alpine’s fur rubbed against your leg as she walked by, giving you a curious look as you averted your gaze down to your phone.

The one person who hadn’t shown up when you had begged him to stay—to salvage whatever you two had left,  is standing at your door. A hand rested on his ribs and a batch of misfits that fit a description of an off-brand Avengers were in worse shape than he was.  You could see the group conversing between each other over your security feed. 

Your heart seemed to be pulsing in your ears as you looked at his eyes, locking with yours as he stared into the camera in front of him. He had the same look in his face that you had seen on the nights that were plagued by the constant nightmares. The days where he couldn’t escape the pain that he had caused. He needed help—and God knows you couldn’t rest helping him. 

———————

“If you all don’t shut up for once she won’t let us in” Bucky said, giving the slightest glare at the group behind him. His breath hitched as he said it, knowing that there was already a slim enough chance you would let him in, let alone a whole group of… well, whatever they were. 

The house towered over the fence, lights coming from almost all of the windows on the first floor. Bucky remembered this house. His face deadpanned only leaving his eyes as a tell tale sign of his remembrance of this place—the love he left here. He remembers the rooms, the way you would wait for him on the stairs when he came home, the smell of the bathroom when the bath was running. All of it. Every moment flooded back to him, the life that he left. The life that he could have had. The big house, the family, the wife. Everything was on a platter in front of him, and yet it seemed as if the film had kept rolling without him in frame.

“By any chance are you going to tell us where you have us going?” Ava blurted out, resulting in Alexei sharply giving an elbow to her shoulder.“He said it’s a she. It’s probably a she-she.” Alexei said, giving a glance between Ava and Bucky.

A silence ran through the air as they all had the same thought running through their minds. They all seemed to have a lightbulb moment, immediately turning their heads to Bucky again. “Are we visiting your girlfriend, Bucky? Because I don’t think any of us are dressed to be making first impressions” Walker said, letting out a small chuckle when he finished. “And if this is your so called girlfriend why the fuck is she not letting us in?”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Walker.” He said, pivoting towards him and giving him a pointed stare. His shoulders were stiff and he stood more upright than he did before they had reached the gate. “Any more questions? Or are you all going to keep being irritable for the rest of the night when I’m the only one who has some sort of a plan here?” Bucky huffed in response, his hands exaggerating every single word that came out of his mouth.

The team took two steps back, John putting his hands up in surrender and shaking his head. “For fuck’s sake I’m sorry I’m the only one-“ Before Bucky could finish his sentence, the iron gate started to open with a creak. From their position, the driveway led up to only one of the large double doors open to the house. Distantly, a figure could be seen—leaning in the doorway with her hair swept to one side.

“What’s up with him.." Ava muttered to Yelena, earning her a shrug in response. The five walked up slowly, Bucky leading through the group ahead.

It was obvious life kept moving after Bucky left. Why wouldn’t it? The shrubs in front of the house were bigger. The flowers had bloomed, and he assumed you had  planted more since hydrangeas were popping up now. Every flower was your favorite color and the scents were the ones you always pointed out when you two walked together around the neighborhood. He was surrounded by you again—and he hadn’t even said hello yet. 

___________________

Once the group got closer, the image became even clearer for them. 

“Hey, doll” 

You leaned on the doorway with your arms crossed, no expression crossing your face. You couldn’t let him get to you again. Never again. Sure, you had thought about this moment. This fantasy moment of him coming back to you on a white horse and making amends—but it never came. Weeks passed, months, of waiting for anything. A call would have sufficed, and yet he’s standing at your door, half broken and bleeding. 

Bucky felt himself falling apart as he inched closer to seeing you again. He could remember your face, wondering if you had changed your hair, or painted your nails another color than what he last saw you with. 

“I’m guessing you got your ass kicked and my place was the closest?” It had taken you a second to respond, allowing the words that came out of his mouth to ripple in the air before you spoke. No one had called you that in upwards of a year and a half. The words felt foreign, like a knife entering a wound that had already healed once. 

“That’s the long story short I guess–” John wanted to finish, but the death stare that he had received from Bucky was enough to result in his silence. “Doll you know it’s not like that– I swear” “What? Like you we’re going to call?” The rest of the “thunderbolts” felt like they needed a bucket of popcorn and lawn chairs to get through this argument. 

Bucky shuffled closer to you, pushing his hair back with his left hand. “You know I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t serious. You’re the only person I thought of at the moment that would have dealt with… us.” Your eyes scanned the group in front of you, at least you knew who the off brand Captain America was. The rest… completely unfamiliar. 

You moved to the side, gesturing them into the house with one arm. “Come on, before someone sees you all” your voice was little above a whisper, immediately locking the door once everyone was in. 

___________________

“So… who are you guys?” All five of them sat on your couch, piled on top of eachother. The sofa jerked downwards as they all sat, slightly curving under their weight. “We are the Thunderbolts” Alexei said, waving his arms around for what he assumed added emphasis. 

“The… Thunderbolts?” You furrowed your brow for a moment, looking at the whole group, then Bucky who was seated in an armchair alone. “Not officially, we did not agree on a name yet” Walker chimed in, placing his folded shield on the hardwood flooring. “It was the name of her childhood soccer team actually,” Ava said, smirking as Yelena covered her eyes and slid down in her seat. “Alexei’s idea originally.” 

The house was cold inside, the type to make you wrap your arms around yourself when you walk in. The mantel was covered with framed photos, memories locked in a time of joy and laughter. Multiple spots on the mantel remained empty with a layer of dust covering the white paint, as if they were waiting for someone to fill them again. Empty Home Depot boxes were spread around, open but not filled. Books were still on their shelves with vinyl records mixed in between—except the house wasn’t a home. It felt empty and alone with only a young woman and her cat roaming inside. No shoes were left at the door, or coats being hung at the doorway. The firewood in the fireplace looks as if it was never lit, and everything was as if it was in a painting. Still and perfect.  

Bucky almost didn’t recognize the house when he walked in. There was no jazz music playing in the background, cups littered around with tea and whiskey. The sound of laughter as the two of you danced barefoot across the floors. The house had turned grey, lost its color. No candles were lit and no sweet scents lingering around the house from them, or plants growing in each windowsill. Everything was shiny and unused, dust only covering up the small areas where his marks once were. The photo frames being taken down of the two of you, or the vases filled with flowers he would bring home whenever the old ones wilted. The house was perfect, but it was the complete opposite of the home he had with you. 

Alpine had already made her way next to Bucky, and he cradled her like she was his first born. He was always the only one that was able to hold her like that. She purred as he pet her, nuzzling into his shirt. You gave a slight glance as he spoke to the cat in a low enough register that no one could hear. Even the cat missed him. 

“Well, Thunderbolts.. make yourself at home” You were already making your way to the kitchen, peeking your head out of the doorway. “I’ll bring water and something a little stronger for those in need” You flashed a smile, rubbing your right arm as you walked in. 

“I like her already,” Alexei shouted out “I do not understand why you do not stay here” Alexei made himself comfortable while pointing at Bucky. The whole team watched as he babied a white fuzzy cat—why would the winter soldier have a pet cat? Everyone seemed to feel like they were in an episode of the Twilight Zone, trying to figure out why Bucky would have given up a shot at domesticity. 

“She is so out of your league man,” John said looking around the house, pressing his palms to his knees as he got up to look at the frames on the mantel. “Are any of these photos of you actually enjoying life by any chance?” He said while picking one of the frames up. 

Bucky stayed silent, immediately putting Alpine down and walking towards the kitchen. He turned back for a moment, only muttering “Don’t break anything” before he disappeared to talk to you.

Yelena and Ava shared a look, Alexei suddenly having Alpine walking between his legs as he sat and John being entertained by looking at your shelves and photos. “We are having the same idea, right?” Yelena cocked her head slightly at Ava, quickly glancing at the doorway to the kitchen. “ohhh… yes. The same idea.” She gave a nod in agreement and the pair immediately sprung up and raced to the doorway, hoping to hear some strays of the conversation. 

___________________

“Need any help?” 

You could hear his boots on the wooden floors from a mile away. You knew his stride, his breath in silence, the way that he would tap on the kitchen counters as he waited for a response from you. You were scared of what you might let out if you opened your mouth, lashing out at him had no point, did it? It had been long enough for you to let this go—let him go. “There’s leftover lasagna in the fridge, too much for me to finish.” You pointed in the direction of the fridge as you put on the stove for some tea. It’s not like Bucky needed directions of where everything was, everything had still been in place from when he left. After all, what if he did come back home? You kept your head down, your eyes fixated on the stove burners. Bucky made his way closer to you, inching to the fridge while still looking for your face as your hair covered your side profile. Your arms were crossed, leaning on the kitchen island behind you. “Doll–” his breath hitched as he got closer, reaching out for the back of your arm. “Don’t.” You said sharply, flinching and then tucking your hair back into place as it fell out. He watched as you moved to the otherside of the island, acting like you were looking for something in the cabinets below. “We really don’t have to do this Buck.” You stood back up with a bottle of whiskey and three glasses in your hand, setting them down on the counter. “We can’t do this–I can’t keep doing this with you.” Your eyes looked like you were pleading. Pleading for this cat and mouse game to be over. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” His body hovered over the counter, leaning towards you as his hands gripped onto the marble. “I never want to hurt you– you know that.” He pushed his hair back with his right hand, closing his eyes as he awaited your response. Bucky knew that ending this was for the better. The lingering looks at parties, the nights sat drinking at the hotel bar and laughing over your childhood stories. A spark doesn’t always light a fire, he kept telling himself.  He could mess around, find someone who eased the loneliness that constantly ate away at him. To fill his nights with something other than waking up in a cold sweat. He never wanted to get this attached to you. 

New nightmares were added to his nightly rotation once he left and you were the main character. How he had left you haunted him, adding to his list of lives that he had lost one way or another. He knew you could find anyone, probably someone who is more in your league to actually agree with Walker for once. 

You stayed silent, unable to look up at his eyes. “You know I saw dancing in our living room for the rest of our lives and children with your last name,” You pushed your hair back out of your eyes, twiddling with a ring that laid on your left hand. He didn’t know how he didn’t notice it before. He glazed back and forth at the ring, you could feel his eyes practically burning a hole into it. 

“I had to move on Buck.” You finally looked up at him, as he met your gaze the silence was palpable. His mouth opened, then shut again, just analyzing this new person he stood in front of. You weren’t his anymore. “You didn’t have to go get fucking married.” 

“What the hell was I supposed to do? Keep waiting for you?” You cocked your head to the side, tears starting to brim at your eyelashes. “And don’t play the ‘it was for your own god’ and ‘i wasn’t meant for this kind of life’ card.” The tea kettle started to whistle in the background, low enough for it to go unnoticed between the two of you even between the silence. The world felt as if it was just you two standing in it, no one in your living room and no threat to the world sitting right outside your door. “You know damn well I would’ve patched up every wound on your body. I would have dealt with every sleepless night that came with you because I would rather be knee deep in your blood and everything else that comes with you than go on without you” 

He stayed silent. He never knew how to respond in these situations. He was made to observe, to stay silent and simply react. He watched you stare into his eyes, desperately looking for something in him that he knew wasn’t there.

James Barnes was the man that you wanted to marry, but he wasn’t the man that was going to marry you. He knew he couldn’t be the picture perfect husband. The one that could take care of children or simply take care of the house. He tried to be domesticated, for you, for your future together. But the world seemed to fight him in every way. Bucky felt as if he would do anything just to tell you that he was sorry, yet you probably didn’t want to hear any of it. He didn’t know if you had yearned for the day you two would touch again. Until the day that the two of you would meet again. He missed the way that you laughed in surprise when he remembered something small, or the way you would stay up talking to him until the sun came up. “You’ll get over this, doll.” His jaw clenched after he said it, a piece of his heart leaving with the words when they escaped from his mouth.

You shook your head silently, looking back down at the counter. “You haven’t.” The world seemed to stop spinning. A year of waiting, dreaming of when he would come back to you. You could see your face at the altar, marrying the man who you knew would stay. The one that had no risk, he was safe. 

None of your friends had to worry that he may hurt you. That the love of your life would suddenly go rabid, killing anyone and everyone. Maybe even you. The man who didn’t have a foggy reputation, one who instead had a bright future. A stable life and a happy wife. A big white wedding with a dress that seemed to drown you and a life– 

“Do you love him?” “What?” “Are you as in love with him as you were with me?” 

“He’s a nice guy, Buck.” 

The tea kettle continued to whistle, growing louder and louder as the two of you finally snapped out of each other. Your breath hitched, as you muttered a curse word under your breath, your hands slightly shaking as your hand brushed his body as you walked past. “You don’t have to marry him.” He turned towards you, the two of you now standing directly in front of each other. “I’ll always be waiting for you,” as you attempted to walk away again, you felt his hand lightly grab your forearm. “I will never get over this, but I did this for you.”  Your head knew better than to give into this. To run out of this house while you still had the chance. “I did it so you could fall in love with someone who could have given you everything,” His hand cupped your face for a moment, you couldn’t help but lean into it, savoring it. Imprinting this moment into your memory so you would never forget this… or forget him. ___________________

The group all started saying their thank you and goodbyes as night completely covered your neighborhood, allowing for a safe exit for the whole group. It’s as if they only needed some water and food to actually be able to make a suitable plan to save New York. 

The group started to walk away from your door, all looking like they had a renewed purpose in a good two hours of rest. John, Ava, and Yelena continued to bicker their way down your driveway. The only one left inside was Bucky, saying his final goodbyes to Alpine yet again. As he finally made his way out the door, Alpine threaded through your legs as you both watched him leave. “I don’t know how to make this up to you” Bucky turned towards you, a hand resting on his hip. “No need, Bucky.” Your breathing was heavy, as you looked at him again. Trying to take in those details that you’ll ‘get over’ anyways. The way that his eyes closed as he smiled, or the way that his eyes looked in the middle of the night. Closure was what this was. The light finally fading on a chapter of your life that you continuously tried to close by yourself. Maybe this is what you needed. Bucky pivoted on his left foot, giving a mock salute one last time. Your breath started to quicken and you found yourself blinking back the tears that threatened to escape again. You watched the man you thought was the love of your life walk away for a second time tonight. You waved, one hand slightly covering your mouth as you made an attempt to silent the small sobs that were about to fall once you locked your door behind you. ___________________ Bucky’s apartment buzzer continued to go off, his hands fiddling with a light blue tie that matched with his eyes—or at least that's what John had told him when he was picking out a suit for this evening. Tonight was just another one of Val’s PR stunts. She and Mel are in the midst of trying to make the New Avengers look like the shiny new heroes that come to the rescue for everything. They weren’t anything like Steve or Tony. Sam definitely didn’t think so either. 

“Jesus christ…” He finally made his way over to the buzzer, automatically allowing them up assuming it was Yelena or John coming to pick him up. He slid on his grey suit jacket, giving a glance at his gloves before deciding to leave them on his foyer’s table. As the knock on the door finally came, he slid his boots on and walked over, “You know I told you to be here thirty minutes ago, we’re supposed to be at least slightly punctual–”  His breath stopped at the sight in front of his door. It was you waiting for him outside of his apartment. You were in a white sundress that he recognized, with your hair pinned up and flowers in your hand. “Hi.” you looked like a deer in headlights when he opened the door. Everything you had practiced went out the door. “I had practiced this for days–and I brought flowers because I thought it was something you would do..” You swallowed all the spit forming in your mouth as you watched him look you up and down.  Bucky looked down at your ring finger, seeing it completely bare from the last time he saw you nervously fidgeting with it. You caught him, watching his eyes go back to your face from your hand. “I couldn’t do it, Buck,” you said “I know that you probably don’t want me to be here and–”

Your whole speech was cut off by him matching his mouth with yours, pulling you in by your right arm. Your arms wrapped around him, your left arm reaching out and dropping the flowers on his foyer table. After all, flowers will not be wasted in this economy. You stood on your tiptoes, his hands moving to cup your face as your lips parted for a moment.

“You don’t know how much I thought about this moment” He said, slightly pushing your hair back behind your ear. “I do, actually” a slight giggle came out of your mouth, making a smile appear on his face again. “I’m sorry, for everything” he said, you watched him as he took in this moment, every detail seemed to be recognized by him. “Stop apologizing, I forgave you as soon as I saw you at my doorstep those months ago. I love you so much that I couldn’t help not forgiving you.” you grabbed his tie and reeled him back in, your arms wrapping around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you again.

Because what is love if not longing to have one come back to you?

[imaginationlover101]

My Happy Ending

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: I told myself it didn’t matter. That Dean flirting with someone else wasn’t a big deal—not this time. But the truth? It broke something, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to walk away… or if he’d even notice if I did. But something was going to give—either my heart, or the silence between us.

🍎🥧❤️🍎🥧❤️🍎🥧❤️🍎🥧❤️🍎🥧❤️🍎🥧❤️🍎🥧

I was becoming tired of it. Watching Dean flirt with the busty diner waitress was making me sick. Seeing the way she completely folded over the table, the minute Dean mentioned her name made me want to jump over the table and straight for the door. But I knew that was kinda dramatic (but at this point, what did it matter?).

Sam watched me across the table as he sipped on his black coffee. Sam was always observant, maybe a little too much at times. But the way Sam looked at me right now, as if he was trying not to look my way, made the tears I tried so desperately to hide much harder.

Daisy was her name. Ugh, what an eye roll, I swear if she told the story to Dean again about how people called her Daisy because she had a touch as light as a feather, and her mother said she reminded her of a sunny day I'd barf. But who was I kidding? Maybe I was easedropping a little too much, but how could I help it when her agonizing laugh lingered longer with every word.

The two were standing too close to each other for my liking, at least. Dean's arm rested against the counter as he oogled at the apple pie (and probably the open buttons of "Daisys" blouse). I'm surprised my vision was crystal clear at the moment. Seeing as a few days ago, I could barely see a sign across the street.

I pushed my plate away. The eggs I had once enjoyed had now gone cold—like everything else in this heartbreaking diner. Dean was still standing at the counter, grin wide from ear to ear, a smile I thought was only reserved for me. Letting Daisy’s syrupy voice fill his ears, she twirled a piece of her hair and leaned a little too close.

I suddenly couldn’t take it anymore, everything became too much.

"I’m gonna get some air," I muttered, my voice barely audible as I stood from the booth. I smoothed my hands over the navy shirt I had chosen to wear only because Dean said it was his favorite color on me, but who was I kidding? Was that another gimic, too?

Sam looked up from his coffee, brows knitting with concern. "Y/N—"

But I didn't bother to hear the rest. I was already gone.

The door swung closed behind me with the sound of a loving chime I might’ve once found charming. But now all that's left is just another reminder of what I wasn’t—a girl worth staying at the table for.

I leaned against the Impala. It was cool beneath my palms, steady, reliable. Everything Dean wasn't.

For a moment, I just stood there, breathing in the morning summer air like it could wash the ache away. But it stayed, only growing worse as it poked right under my ribs. Leaving a constant reminder of everything that I tried to hide.

I heard footsteps but I couldn't turn around. I almost expected it to be Dean, but it wasn't.

"You okay?" Sam asked, coming to stand beside me. He didn't crowd me. Just stood in front of me, blocking whatever sunlight was facing my way. Sam always stood taller than most, but hell, I could remember a time when we were both the same height. I'd never think there'd come a time when Sam Winchester would be comforting me, but now it seems that anything was possible.

"No," I said finally. "But I will be."

Sam nodded tenderly like he already knew. The sun grew brighter behind him, projecting a summer glow to his appearance. I longed to feel the heat of the sunshine in some way to sorta wake me up from this mess, but right now, everything felt cold.

"You don’t have to keep pretending you’re fine Y/N. You’re allowed to not be okay with the way he looks at other girls. How he treats them when your around."

I let the silence stretch between us. Sam’s words weren’t cruel. They were honest. That’s what made them sting.

"I thought he was different," I said. "With me at least."

Sam’s voice was soft. "Maybe he is. But he’s still Dean. And Dean... he doesn’t always know how to deal with what scares him."

"And I scare him?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes. It was pathetic really.

"Yes, of couse you do Y/N," Sam placed a hand across his face in a testing matter, taking a deep breath out. "Because you matter."

Just then, the door opened again, and I turned my head before I could stop myself.

There he was in all his glory, before I knew it my eyes were placed right on his before I could turn away

Dean glanced between Sam and I, frown already forming on his face. Fixing the collar of his jacket Dean starts coming our way. "What’s going on?"

I straightened my back, throwing my hair behind my shoulder. Everything was fine, I was just being dramatic. At least that's what I had to tell myself in order from losing it all. My hands were clenched as I slowly placed them down by my sides. "Nothing. I'm just clearing my head."

Dean’s sighs taking a step closer as he tears his eyes away from Sam and fully onto me now. "Y/N-"

"No," I cut him off. "Don’t do that. Don’t say my name like"

Sam gives me a silent nod before slowly slipping inside, making that stupid chime go off once again. It was just the two of us now.

Dean shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, squinting at the sun made it's way closer. Turning around, he waits until Sam is fully inside the diner to speak. "What the hell is going on with you?"

"Me! You mean besides watching you flirt your way through every woman with a name tag?" I snapped, well I wasnt expecting that to come out. "Or maybe you’re wondering why I’m not just sitting quietly and pretending it doesn’t feel like being gutted every time you look at someone else like they’re the only person in the room."

Dean eyes widen, he looked stunned. Like I’d just hauled off and punched him right in the gut. He was quiet for a moment, a moment too long because after awhile I began to walk away. But before I could make a move Dean lighty grabbed my wrist pulling me right next time him. Right smack in front of him so that his attention wasn't on anything except me.

"Sunshine I wasn’t—"

"Yes, you were-." My voice cracked for a second, and it felt like couldnt breathe. How was I supposed to tell the boy I've known since I was a teenager I was in love with him "-you were. And maybe that’s fine. Maybe that’s who you are. But I can’t keep waiting for you to notice that this is something more. I don't want to be a backup Dean".

He took a step toward me, but I didn’t move. His eyes widen in a way he didnt realize and for a moment I almost wanted to step close, but I never did. "Y/N..I never meant to hurt you," he said quietly.

"But you did," I whispered my eyes teared and I knew I had to look away. "Over and over. And maybe that's the worst part—how easy it is for you to pretend like it doesn't matter."

The wind blew through the parking lot, and Dean still didn’t say a thing. I waited for a response watching for any emotion in those big green eyes I had once loved, but nothing changed.

So I turned. I started walking.

For the first time in 10 years I walked away, and this time Dean didn't follow

---

I didn’t get that far. Just down the street, besides I knew that Sam would panic the minute Dean told him I walked away.

For a moment I didn't realize how far I walked. I had pasted the places I was excited to vist as we drove into the town, but now that all seemed like a far fetched idea. The distance between the two of us was good. I needed a moment to reflect on my thought.

I found myself at a cozy Cafe, a totally difrent vibe from the so called "diner" I had ate at moments ago. There was no agonizing bell, or overly flirty waitress at the counter. The Cafe was tiny and charming everything I so desperately seeked in a moment like this.

After ordering myself a latte, I stepped outside finding comfort in the outdoor seating. The hot drink kept me warm as the sun slowly started to set.

I didn’t expect to hear the familiar growl of bootsteps on rocky pavement.

But neverless there they were.

“Y/N—” His voice was rough, not as confident as he normally was. Like if he wasn’t sure if he deserved to say my name or not right now.

I didn’t turn around, just kept my back faced to his body as I sipped on my comfort drink. Sighing I rubbed my eyes (trying to hide myself from the fact that I could cry at any given moment). “You should be inside. Your pie’s probably getting cold.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t try to put on a smile.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were... ” he said.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t try very hard to make me feel like I was anything at all.” I finally turned to face him. His eyes—green, full of a thousand apologies he didn’t know how to say—met mine. I didnt know what to think as I looked at those eyes, and the memories they held.

“I flirt,” he said an octive higher. Dean opens his arms in a wide stance like he was confessing a sin to the sky. “I joke, and you know why I do it because I push people away because it’s easier than getting hurt.”

"And what about me?" I asked, leaving my coffee on the wooden table I begin to stand up. "What do I get to be in that equation? The girl who keeps forgiving you while you hand pieces of yourself to strangers?"

“No,” he said quickly. Dean sighs running a hand through his hair as he tilts his head to the sky once again. His eyes meet mine for a moment again before he begins to speak in a only a whisper him and I could hear.. “You’re not just anyone Y/N. You never were.”

I stared at him, waiting—for once—for more than just words. For something real.

Dean stepped closer, slow, deliberate. “You know what, you scare the hell out of me,” he admitted, pointing a finger in my way. “Because when I’m with you, I feel like I’m not just surviving anymore. I feel like... maybe I could have something good. Something real. And I’ve never let myself have that. Not once.”

He paused, breathing hard like the words were heavier than he meant them to be. “But I can’t do this halfway anymore. I won’t.”

My eyes squint, head tilting in confusion as my heart hammered against my ribs, but Dean was still here and he didn't stop.

“I love you.” The words dropped like thunder between us. “I’ve loved you longer than I’ve had the guts to say it. And I’ve messed it up, I know that. But I swear to God, Y/N, you’re the only thing that feels right. The only thing I want.”

I froze.

Not because I didn’t feel the same—but because I’d waited so long to hear those words, I wasn’t sure they were real.

“You... you love me?” I asked, almost breathless. The air was cold and my brain was foggier then before. Dean Winchester loves me? Dean Winchester loves me!

Dean gives a small, lopsided smile—uncertain, but hopeful. Tilting his head down towards mine he faces his eyes against mine. “Yeah. I do. It’s always been you.”

I just stared at him, all the anger and heartbreak dissolving under the weight of his confession. My voice caught in my throat. I wasn’t ready for that—not the way he said it. Not with that soft, wrecked look in his eyes that made it impossible to doubt him.

“I—Dean, I don’t even know what to say,” I whispered.

He chuckled nervously, a cheesy grin forming on his lips. "Kinda hoping you'd say something like... you love me back. Or maybe just kiss me before, you know I pass out from panic".

A slow smile tugged at my lips as I stepped into his space, fingers reaching up to brush the side of his jaw.

“You’re such an idiot,” I said, voice cracking with emotion. “But yeah... I love you too. You absolute mess of a man.”

He exhaled like I’d just brought him back to life. Leaning his head against mine he stared into my eyes. Never in my life did I think I'd be standing with Dean Winchester eye to eye. But there I was.

Slipping my hands around his neck, I kissed Dean—finally— and for once in my life it finally sememed like everything was going my way.

The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate or messy or built on everything we’d been running from. It was slow, deliberate—like he needed to memorize the feel of me, like he didn’t want to mess it up now that I was finally his.

When we pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, breath warm between us.

“God,” he murmured, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

I smiled, fingers still curled into the lapel of his jacket. “Well, for the record, you’re a pretty good kisser for someone who’s been too busy ignoring his feelings.”

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, and for a second it was music to my ears. “You bring it out of me, sweetheart.”

He tugged me into a hug, arms wrapping around me like he finally realized how easily I could’ve slipped through his fingers—and how he had no intention of letting me go again.

We slowly made our way back at the motel, Sam was sat at the the kitchen table with a grin that said it all. Dean and I walked, coffee and pastries in our hand. We joined Sam at the table eating and drinking in silence, we didn’t talk much. We didn’t need to.

Later on that night Dean tossed me one of his flannels—soft, warm, and cologne that smelled just like him. Sam was asleep on bed next falling asleep mere hours ago. Dean lowers the TV before making his way over to me, and just like that, I was wrapped in him, in the warmth he only ever showed when he let his walls down.

We curled up on the bed together, his arm around my waist, fingers tracing lazy circles on my hip. The TV was on, but neither of us was listening. Pressing a kiss to my temple he begins to whisper, “You know, this... this could be our new normal.”

Staring up at him I glint “Are you suggesting snuggling in cheap motels after every hunt??” I teased.

Grinning against my skin, he presses a kiss to my ear. “Exactly that.”

For once, there were no secrets. No half-truths. Just me and Dean. And the soft, steady rhythm of something that felt a hell of a lot like forever.

[softsunnyy]

WAIT WAIT BC I HAVE A REQUEST and i think its a good one too

so yk how there's that Halsey song (bad at love??) when it says

Got a boy back home in Michigan And he tastes like Jack when I'm kissing him

u could write one where reader isn't with Jack anymore and is fucking someone else (could literally be anyone tbh) but she keeps thinking abt how jack does it better, and comparing the two 🥺🥺

so… you should know about the thousand Jack edits i've downloaded with that song. My gosh.

🚨 emotional and physical cheating, you never really loved the poor guy, Jack is a bit of a stalker; mentions of sex with your ex. 🚨

this feels a bit like a part one

you moaned against his ear, feeling his cock slide in and out of you at a slow, patient, and gentle pace. You can feel his love, his devotion, his need to please you…

and those are some of the many things that makes him so... different.

you closed your eyes, trying not to see his face, because you knew it would turn you off, that when you opened them you'd find brown eyes, straight, light hair, skin that was too soft, and a sparkle in his eyes that was too innocent for you. And you knew it would eat you up with guilt, that it'd feel bad, so you preferred not to see it, to let yourself be guided by the sensations and imagining…

imagining other hands touching you.

because nothing had been the same since Jack and you broke up, since you parted ways, vowing to maintain respect, contact, and a good relationship. It makes it worse knowing that you broke up not because you fell out of love with each other, or because something felt wrong, but because his future is bright, and you didn't want to interfere when his life was just starting. I mean, how could you do that to him?

and so much time has passed, you've tried to rebuild your life, meet new people, change your appearance and the people you choose to have sex with. That's how you ended up with Matt, a guy who doesn't even like hockey to begin with. He´s... short, less muscular, and has friends who look at you like you're their next meal. He's not your type, you're not even sure you like him, but you'd already gotten yourself into it too much, and it was the only thing that kept your mind off things at times.

the problem is, his magic started to wear off this summer, when you took him to Michigan to meet your family, not knowing he'd be there before the regular season ended, in a sling, since he'd apparently injured his shoulder. When you saw him, your breath caught in your throat; it's like you'd gone back to your late teens, letting go of the love of your life. And your memories came flooding back, as did the feelings you thought you'd buried deep in your heart.

now looking at Matt feels like a reminder, like a constant call to wake up and realize what you're doing with your life. And you try to ignore it, to not feel this way, but when Matt slides his cock into your walls, you realize it's not working.

and you remember those big, not-so-soft hands that traveled over your body and touched you possessively, leaving bruises on your sides, and touching your tits like a toy. His cock, hammering inside you, bruising your cervix, expanding your walls, while your hands scratched his back.

you remember his head between your legs, and how his eyes were tattooed on your soul, consuming you. And his lips, his chest, his arms, his thighs.

your mind goes back to Jack, and you moan, you whimper; Your body reacts like he´s there with you, and it's when you cum that your mind betrays you, your mouth works before your conscience, and then you say his name.

Matt stops moving, perplexed, confused, offended. You don't realize it yet, but when you open your eyes and see him, you understand.

his name is Matt, not Jack.

and of course, the fun was soon over, and he had questions, valid and charged with emotion.

you´re not proud to say you lied, that you looked him in the eye and, barely able to breathe, told him "Jack" doesn't exist, that you'd made a mistake, that your mind was confused by the pleasure you were feeling. And to continue your lie, you offered him to look at your phone, to check your messages, whatever would make him feel confident that there was no Jack in your life. You´re not proud to say you breathed again when his expression relaxed, when his eyes softened and his hand touched yours once more.

and you had to pretend, letting the weeks pass, and wishing Jack had left Michigan. Sadly, your thoughts won't leave you alone, and you can't concentrate anymore, not even during sex, so you have to fake it, clenching your walls around Matt´s cock to make it look like you've come; moaning in a more pornographic way; doing it in positions where he couldn't see your face properly.

by the third week, you decide to go out, go to a bar, and try to enjoy yourselves. He knows you'd normally like the idea, and continuing to reject him would only raise suspicions again. So you get ready, put on some nice clothes, and try to remember what security feels like when you go out.

when you arrive, the place is packed, and you see many familiar faces, who greet you, hug you, and some look at you curiously, asking you about the new guy, while you just pray they don't ask about him.

the hours begin to pass, Matt has a couple of drinks under his belt, and you're still on your first drink, feeling your blood run cold. There's a pair of eyes following you, you know it, and you can't even pretend to laugh at the things Matt says to you anymore.

you know who's watching you.

because even though you haven't turned around, you know Jack is behind you, probably a couple of tables away, watching as Matt gets a little more touchy, with his hands on your waist every so often, leaving little kisses on your shoulder, and saying stupid comments that you no longer find funny.

and you know, you know he's upset, that he doesn't like what he sees, but he doesn't come closer, doesn't intervene, and the longer this passes, the more tense he makes you feel. You don't know what he wants, and you try to get away from Matt, to reclaim your space, your sanity, and your courage, but it doesn't work, and you feel heat in your curves, in your ass, in your legs, because you know he's looking at you, analyzing what has become of you.

and you wonder if he likes it, if you look pretty to him, if he still feels fucking hot when he sees your thighs.

Matt's hands return to you, and you want to throw up, you feel guilty, dirty, like you've betrayed him, letting someone else try to take you over. You feel paranoid, and you don't have the strength to look at him.

and Jack? he wants to laugh, to scream, to push you away from that guy and hit his face for thinking he can touch you. He doesn't even feel betrayed; rather, he's... almost amused.

he's just so... different, and he knows you don't like Matt. God, he even wants to correct the guy, tell him to be rougher, to put his hands in the right places, to make sure he has your attention.

does he even know what he's doing? because it seems like he doesn't know you. Not like he does.

so he watches, like you were his prey, analyzing every move so he can choose the perfect moment to attack and devour you. He's more patient than ever, enduring the tension in his body, the sweat, the heavy breathing, and the strength in his body that makes him want to get up and walk over to you.

then Matt kisses you, and it's like time stops. You try to kiss him back, but you close your eyes and all you can see is him, putting one hand on your neck so you can't pull away, while the other caresses your hip, slowly moving up to reach under your tits. It's what Jack would do, and you try to focus on that, but it's impossible. It's not him.

so you pull away, abruptly, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, trying to make your way through the sea of ​​people, feeling cold sweats, your hands trembling, your lips burning, and you struggling to breathe. When you see the bathroom door, you try to walk faster, but a hand grabs your waist, pulling you back, causing your body to crash into the wall.

in front of you, you see him, the man of your dreams, nightmares, and deepest desires, looking at you with a cocky smile, like in these few hours he's learned everything he needed to.

your mind clouds, and you try to get closer to him unconsciously, almost instinctively, which makes his smile grow bigger.

"what are you doing?" you hear him say, and you want to cry, jump into his arms, and kiss him. You've missed him so much, and having him in front of you has brought back all your feelings, all your memories. You can't even answer what he asked because you haven't processed his words. You feel dazed, overwhelmed, and your mouth opens and closes, but you don't say anything.

he raises an eyebrow, amused, and with his good hand, he caresses your waist, as if nothing has changed, as if he hadn't acted on impulse after spending hours restraining himself from doing this.

"i asked you something. What are you doing?" he said it again, looking you up and down, taking his time, enjoying your reaction.

“what do you mean?” you asked, stunned, not knowing where to put your hands, and trying to tear your gaze away from his eyes.

“you’re letting him touch you in a way you don’t like,” he commented, like admitting he’d been watching you wasn’t important, and that slowly brought your awareness back to you.

“how do you know it’s not what i like? time has passed,” you responded defensively, trying to create some distance, though the wall made it difficult.

damn, you hadn’t seen Jack in so long, and this is the first thing he says to you?

“you never liked being touched like that.” his hand remained firm, making it impossible for you to move too far away, applying just the right amount of pressure.

and it frustrates you to know that he remembers, that he knows where to touch, in what tone to speak, what to say, and how to look at you. It’s like you’re an open book to him, because he took all the time in the world to get to know you, to learn so much about you that nothing would take him by surprise, so that you’d never have a complaint, so that he could make you happy.

“people change, Jack.” His name fell from your lips smoothly, and you saw how he hesitated for a moment, like that had been his weakness. However, soon the smile returned to his lips.

“yeah... but i doubt you’ve forgotten what you really like” his hand moved up slowly, passing over your tits, down your chest, to your neck, applying pressure near your jaw, making you look at him, unable to lower your head. “Tell me, did you miss me?”

Jack doesn’t even know what he’s doing. It wasn’t his plan. It’s not what he’s thought for weeks since he saw you when you arrived in Michigan.

it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, but now he can’t pull away. Not when his breath hits yours, and you’re so close that your eyelashes will soon brush his skin. Not when he’s drunk on your perfume again. Not when your eyes look at him in that same way they always do.

like you’re silently begging him to fuck you right there.

and his question distracts you, and you wanna lie, tell him no, but the hesitation in your voice is enough to give him the real answer, which makes him feel confident, smug, like he just won.

“well, i did miss you… and i never thought that when i saw you again it would be with… him.” The last part was said with a disgust you couldn't ignore.

and deep down… your chest felt warm knowing he doesn't like this.

“Jack…”

“are you satisfied?”

three words, three that took your breath away once again, because you know he's referring to everything. He's not just asking you about sex. His eyes don't lie. And you wanna lie, for him and for you, but you can't, you can't form a false sentence in your mind.

so you stay silent for a couple of minutes, not even hearing the music, the conversations, the people. Under his gaze, you feel small, and like it was just the two of you, like old times.

your silence might be answer enough, but he wants to hear you say it, wants to know that you wanna join your lips with his, that you too want to sneak into the bathroom behind your back and remember who you belong to.

“he's not you, Jack,” you whispered, ashamed, guilty. And he took it as a green light, attaching his mouth to yours like a magnet, like it was the sign he'd been waiting for.

and that night, when you find yourself back at home, without Matt, with Jack, and with no regrets… you know your life is about to turn upside down once again.

but you don't regret it. Not when you feel his hands on your body again, and his cock being welcomed home, forcing its way into your soaked, tight pussy.

and you're sensitive, you cry, you whimper. You feel him everywhere, and you know the night is just beginning now.

he makes you feel alive, like you're a teenager again, and you wouldn't change that for anything.

all that's left is to apologize to Matt, if Jack doesn't do something about it first.

[sapphicscholar]

Hacks Episode 4.06 Thoughts

We’re back baby! While I’ve got some quibbles about the ep and some lingering complaints about the season arc, there’s a lot to love here! Popped it all below the “see more” to keep from spoiling the episode for anyone

Catharsis: while I do have a quibble (noted later) about the continuity/transition from ep 5 to ep 6, Ava’s breaking point within ep. 6 was so beautifully, painfully constructed—honed to a fine point of devastation at a hard-to-watch rock bottom—so much so that you could do nothing but cheer as she finally lost her shit and got her moment to scream it out. This is the kind of emotional tension building I love where the (relatively) mundane shit just cascades and cascades until Mrs. Table’s fake order is enough to send ya screaming at the staff and careening through the security gate. And I applaud her for it!

A Question of Competency: this season, I think the question has lingered for some viewers of whether Deborah was right—Ava is not equipped for this job—and for some viewers (mostly non-fans, given how deep the fandom’s love for Deborah goes) of whether Ava was right way back in season 1—Deborah is a hack, and her comedy will always threaten to revert back to that same old shit. But we’ve known from season 1 that they make each other funnier, better, that this was Deborah’s second chance at rekindling the kind of dynamic she thought she had and then lost with Frank. And we heard Ava put in such clear terms that the reason they work is because of their relationship—a thing that has notably been strained so heavily as to be essentially non-existent this season. One of my biggest frustrations with season 2 was that we kept being told that Deborah bombed on stage when she wasn’t talking to Ava and was refusing to work with her, but we never saw it, which lessened the impact and made some of the emotional fallout of that experience much harder to understand and find meaningful. This season, though, we’re seeing all the ways the fissure in their relationship is sending the show careening to last place. And while we’ve all been presuming the reasons behind this tailspin, there were two moments that really calcified the intentionality behind the writing here:

Ava scrambling with those 5 pages of jokes desperately trying to find the “best” ones because she doesn’t know what a Deborah who makes “wine o’clock” jokes thinks is funny. While Ava looks deeply, deeply bad at her job for a long, painful moment, we know why: Deborah has become alien to her! This Deborah is even worse than the one we met in the pilot, and Ava is flailing because everything she thought she knew about Deborah and what she finds funny and what she's striving toward in her comedy has flown out the window, leaving Ava on unstable ground.

Deborah acknowledging that she’s been setting Ava up to fail. This was a huge moment (more on it later), but I think in some ways, this is the line Ava needed to hear more than any of the rest of it. So much of Ava’s sense of self (like Deborah’s) is wrapped up in her work—something that’s true of a lot of people in creative and intellectual careers—so this loss of her most important relationship has also ballooned out into a loss of self, an unmooring from what’s made Ava who she is, the thing that saved her during a shitty, lonely adolescence (per the funeral ep). I’m still not sold that Deborah would willingly sacrifice the success of the show on the altar of petty revenge quite so knowingly and willingly as she has been, but at least the writers are finally making it unequivocally clear what they've been writing it as.

The Photo! We’ve all been waiting, but I don’t think any of us thought Ava had been keeping it at her side day in and day out, and I so appreciate the callback. But even more so, I appreciate that the discovery is a quiet moment without Ava's eyes on Deborah—it doesn’t change everything, but it does give Deborah this moment of insight into why Ava did what she did and who she’s (at least partially) doing this for. Ava’s told Deborah again and again (think most recently to the cop car), but I think this is the moment where we get to see Deborah finally start to believe it.

They’re a Couple, Your Honor: I love that Deborah shows up in a fur coat for pretty much all their most important emotional moments – you go, Carol! But anyway, I appreciate that, while there were some heavy-handed contrivances around getting them to the final scene, there were also some really important small notes in the lead up. Things like the way Deborah asks if they can just delay taping for half an hour because she actually doesn’t want to do it without Ava (because it’s always an audience of one, even when they hate each other); the flicker of concern for Ava even after just a few hours when no one else thinks to care much beyond the inconvenience of her disappearance; the melancholy notes when the show wraps; the pang of longing for what once was when Rosie’s talking about the joys of “sitting there laughing your ass off with some of your favorite people in the world” …it’s subtle and quiet and confirms exactly what we’ve hoped we’ve known this whole season: that even at her angriest, Deborah doesn’t want to be doing this without Ava either.

While Deborah’s dive into the ocean could have felt a little soapy and melodramatic, the callback to her knowledge that Ava can’t really swim helped quite a bit. Also, imo, it was a nice way to tether it to Deborah’s panic around responsibility (the “I should have protected you” whispered into Barry’s fur) because Deborah knows she taught Ava to float, but that’s not enough now, not for the fucking ocean—she told Ava she could do it on her own, but now Ava’s out there truly on her own, and Deborah knows she could have, should have done more. And it saves the moment from its own melodrama in really lovely ways. (Also tbc sometimes you just gotta take the soapy dramatic moments as they come! They can delight for good reason!)

Then their conversation on shore was so good because it felt achingly real. A lot of this season past the first episode or two has felt very focused on punchline-centric writing, but the raw emotions here felt not just like them—the them we know and love—but also true to where they are at the moment and have been in the past. It felt like the conversation you have with your long-term partner when you’ve been going through rough patches or the on-again-off-again situationship who’s too good to quit but also fucking you up in the head. And there were so many lovely callbacks!! “Right now you’re up” – the callback to their poolside convo at the hotel about ups and downs, highs and lows, Ava telling Deborah she’s climbing a mountain now, etc. etc. – all of it really lovely (and the kind of thing you get from a writer who was the show’s script coordinator in charge of continuity across eps lmao). Then telling Ava she can’t quit with the hint of a wink to the season 1 finale with the “you’re too good to quit.” So good. But most of all I like that it’s not easy. I like that we see Ava’s fragility, the cracks in her armor that we know Deborah has helped to put there, chisel by chisel, as she pleads with Deborah not to make promises she won't keep because Ava will believe them again and again because she wants to.

“We have to make it for each other” – yes. Finally. But Deborah needed to get there on her own; we knew we couldn’t just have Ava telling her that; she had to finally see it, feel that it was right.

And then it ends with them cackling at someone else’s expense making funny jokes together because that’s what’s fun, and that’s them, and that’s the only way forward.

Small Delights:

Those dykes in line for queer line-dancing night helping Deborah find Ava <3 I also love that Deborah has to ask for help to “Find my…” because she doesn’t have the right word for Ava anymore

Much like I find nothing hotter than Ava at rock bottom, I also find almost nothing hotter than Deborah Vance with mascara streaked across her face, sea-water-soaked hair drying in messy waves, clad in a gray hoodie and striped beach towel, perched on a chair, clutching a hot coffee cup at a shitty beach-shack restaurant. Genuinely so cute and hot all at once.  Idk man it just does it for me.

Quibbles:

Barry (or as my wife deemed him Bartholomew Vance) did NOT deserve that! Look, do I buy that anything happening to those little potatoes would break Deborah? Yes. Absolutely. Did it feel a little out of pocket to have a dog attack (even one that amounted to no physical harm) in my comedy?!? ALSO YES.

The transition from the end of episode 5 to this episode did not work. Ava looked angrier than we’ve ever seen her at the end of episode 5 (which I noted last week felt…off), only to show up looking worn down but still trying to be conciliatory toward Deborah with no overt anger. Hell, they’ve even got Dance Mom back on ALREADY AGAIN this episode, and not a single peep from Ava about it. Don’t get me wrong, the road we do follow to her breakdown feels authentic and right and real (and very much earned), but it makes the ending of 5 feel all the more off, like the writers dialed it up to 1,000 only to drop it down again for no reason. Again, whoever’s in charge of script continuity ain’t doing a great job this season. Which is how we get episodes that are wonderful but end up feeling a little bit like they’re not quite narratively earned (even as they’re earned in their self-contained way). But fingers crossed we’re on the up and up! Though I know we’ve got a lot of Jimmy, Kayla, and Dance Mom coming our way next week… I’ll be curious to see if they can better balance the A and B plots now that our A plot dyad isn’t fissured into competing lines.

[enihk-writes]

HEIIIII!

ive been reading your Chung Myung posts likee 3 times altready! Soo i was thinking, if you could pleasee plss do an Chung Myung x reader where he gets hurt (mabye on the latest fight?) on one of hes fights so reader stubornly treats hes wounds, in wich they constantly bicker each other?

[mr hard-to-love]

pairing: chung myung x gn!reader

summary: one would think that in times like this he would be humbled and quiet, but of course he wasn't. when was he ever humble and quiet?

═══════════════

they had hoped that this close call would've taught this reckless boy a thing or two about the human limits but then again, this was chung myung — not some run-of-the-mill kind of boy whose head was too big with thier own ego. chung myung had both the ego and the skill. the worst kind of combination one could have, in their opinion.

they couldn't help but let out a sigh as they carefully peel off the blood-soaked bandages and threw them into a bucket next to the bed.

i really hope you'll be more careful.

i am though?

wow. what a way to piss someone off. they feel their face contort into a grimace, shooting him a disapproving glance before getting back to treating his wounds.

they weren't that slick, and chung myung certainly caught that look they gave him. his heart stirred — irritated, he clicked his tongue and huffed as he turned his face away from them.

how childish...

they mutter under their breath, twisting the medicinal cloth ball into his injuries, earning a little jolt from him in response.

you're the one who's childi- ow! you!

he retorted, or well, tried to. he just couldn't understand how someone physically weaker than him could inflict such stinging pains.

actually...

hey who the hell sent you to treat me anyways?

their hands stopped midair, and they raise an eyebrow at his question. really? their expression seemed to ask incredulously.

you think any of the other four want to deal with your shit right now?

well they should, i am mout hua's cutest junior brother.

cute my foot.

he gasped, feigning hurt from their sarcastic reply. how could they do this to him? wasn't he their partner? oh they must not love him anymore...

oh for heaven's sake, quit whining like i just kicked you when your down.

but you did-

oh yeah, cus' you are sooooo easy to love... ugh.

they wrap the fresh bandages around him securely, pulling at the cloth to tighten it's hold. when they were finally satisfied with their handiwork, they smile and slapped his arm reassuringly.

alright, now that that's done, im going to have to empty this bucket.

as they got up to leave, they feel a tug from behind that made them tumble backwards into his arms.

can't you stay here for a bit longer?

no way, i got things to do.

aw... but i got injured, i'm hurt from a fight and i need my lover to kiss me better...

they look at him, horrified at his uncharacteristic behaviour. maybe the side effects of the poison were worse than they'd previously thought.

just before chung myung started to whine again, the door slid open — instinctively he shoved them down the bed and rolled over to face the wall.

baek cheon walked in, his face pulled into a pained look. he had only heard the loud thud of their bottom hitting the floorboards, ouch.

you good? i can't believe he'd push you off like that...

the senior brother helped them back to their feet, and after making sure they were fine, checked on his troublesome junior brother too.

well at least this one seems to be doing better.

oh he'd better.

they let out a dry laugh at their own comment, motioning at baek cheon to leave as well.

chung myung sighed and finally rolled back over when he heard the door click shut. and just as he was about to relax, the door slid open again —

i forgot to take the bucket, oops.

they scurried over to pick it up and just as they got back up, they bend over to place a quick peck on his forehead.

the now flustered chung myung was rendered utterly speechless.

you... you...

they grin mischievously.

i'll be back again tonight. don't miss me too much now.

chung myung could only watch as they skipped away, not knowing how red his whole face had become.

[aristocratic-rats]

I feel like the posts calling bucktommy people racist are being kind of obtuse. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but the difference between Buck pushing Eddie and breaking his ankle and Eddie yelling at Buck and picking a fight with him is that what Buck did is treated as something bad that he shouldn’t have done. He expresses quite a bit of remorse and we see that he immediately regrets his actions. He is called out on it and admits that he was wrong to do what he did. Eddie, however, says some things to Buck that, at the very least, should prompt a very sincere apology, but it is not framed as something he has done wrong really. He does acknowledge he was being unfair in the morning, but there is no real apology. It is also something that has happened before. He has said before that Buck is exhausting and that he always makes everything about himself when, frankly, he deserves to feel what he needs to.

I don’t dislike Eddie at all. I think his a Buck’s dynamic is delightful and I hope that their friendship does not continue to fray like this. They both have been through some really rough times, and I think they both need someone to be there for them, which could very well be each other. I do think, though, that there needs to be an apology. From experience, an apology usually also comes with the implicit promise to not let whatever behavior that hurt the person you are apologizing to happen again, which has not yet happened. I would not have wanted to be in Buck’s shoes during that fight scene, and I hope that there is a little more acknowledgment towards Eddie’s outburst.

As for Tommy’s past, I will never forgive someone who has acted the way that he did and not tried to better themself and become someone kinder and better, but that is not who Tommy is. I might need to rewatch the begins episodes again, but I remember distinctly that Chimney, Hen, and Tommy ended those episodes on good terms, often with Tommy acknowledging that he was wrong and that they do deserve to be where they are. I don’t want to sweep his actions under the rug by any means. Chimney and Hen are both incredibly competent firefighters and they both deserve much more respect than they received when they first arrived at the 118, but things were shown to have changed for the better. The montage of the 118 growing closer under Bobby’s leadership specifically shows that Hen, Chim, and Tommy are laughing and smiling and generally enjoying each others company at his transferring-to-the-217 party. Hen may not have kept in touch as much, but Chim and Tommy have been shown to be in close enough contact that Chim can call Tommy at basically a moments notice to help them with various emergencies, and Tommy shows up every time. Tommy 100% should not have acted they way he did, but I think there is something to be said for the fact that he was in quite possibly the most backwards workplace in LA. Fear is never a good reason to not stand up for others, but I can see why it would certainly be a motivator.

This show is very much about new beginnings and changing yourself for the better. Having people who love you enough, no matter, what, that they give you the room to grow and mature into a better version of yourself. No character is without flaws and skeletons in their closets. Some can certainly be argued to be worse than others, but that is a conversation for a different unreasonably long post I might not make. The fact of the matter is that Tommy continues to show up. Lord knows he needs to stop running, and I hope the opportunity arises in the show for his to do that, but no matter what happens in the remainder of this season and the next, I can definitely see on my screen that Tommy is a changed man. It is for this same reason that I have not completely abandoned Eddie as certain posts may suggest. Anyone can change for the better. Anyone can recognize and own up to their mistakes, and I hope that is what happens with Eddie.

This is way too long because it is my first post in this tag. Please feel free to let me know what you think. I am always open to discussion and I want to know if there is anything you agree or disagree with. I have hope for this show and its relationships yet, however misguided that may be.

[birdseyeart]

' You told her she could do anything, and, for you, all she wanted to do… was be kind. '

Enver & Dirge

[ruvviks]

having yancey and stevie from my original story the diner thoughts 💭💭💭

from all the characters of the diner i feel like these two are the most like two puzzle pieces instantly clicking together. just in general the story is very focused on starting over far away from the life you used to know and carrying knowledge with you that you'll never speak about for a variety of reasons (and will remain unspoken of throughout the whole story because you'll never know everything there is to know about a person even if you do end up growing very close to them; this is one of the main themes of the story) but especially yancey and stevie understand this like no one else and that's why they work together so well

from the moment they meet and through the first handful of interactions between them it becomes very clear that they're already very comfortable with each other; they skip the small talk, share cigarettes together in their break behind the diner, know that the other went through some heavy shit and they just kind of immediately offer the other their friendship; a judgment-free zone where they can both be their unfiltered and unmasked selves, no need to keep up appearances because they KNOW they both feel like fucking shit and they allow the other to feel like shit with them

but at the same time they know they can't help each other. which is why all their issues remain untalked about until the end of the story; they can't offer the other the comfort they need and deserve because if they'd try, they know they'd start making mistakes. i've thought briefly about letting them have a romantic relationship instead of yancey ending up with rafiq and teddy, but quickly realized it wouldn't add anything else to the story other than the same cycle of mistakes yancey went through with his ex girlfriend which is specifically the situation he's moving away from. so having a redo of all that with stevie wouldn't tell anything new. they'd make each other worse and end up having to get out of there AGAIN, when the whole point of the story is supposed to be that blightwood crossing ends up as their new home because they MADE it into a home

so instead their friendship is both profoundly strong because of the mutual understanding about each other's issues without even having explained anything about it to the other, as well as kind of stuck on becoming closer than they are on account of how they'll never be able to talk about any of it. they won't ever know about each other's past, they'll never learn what the other was like when they were younger, and when either of them needs to talk about something they know they can't go to the other for it because that's just not possible. but what they CAN do is sit with the other and for a while just be miserable in peace, and they know that no matter how bad it gets they WILL always have each other

something something their misery remains forever their own but no matter how ugly it gets the other will still be there at the end of the day

[sskk-manifesto]

\

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

౨ৎ⠀ׄ⠀. ━ simon riley who was just too damn big for your small cunt

cw: size difference, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dub-con??? idk , not proof read

simon knew that he was a big man, shoulders made him squeeze himself slightly smaller just so he can walk through doors, thighs so big it was impossible to find pants that could accomodate to them. and now, his sweet little bird who couldn’t even take his cock.

it was torture for him, the only thing that came close to fucking you was rubbing his aching cock along your glistening cunt, but yet that made things even worse. he fantasied about what your cunt felt like, how warm and tight it will be around his cock, the pretty moans that would leave your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you.

but now, he had to settle for his hands, too rough and always aching right after he came.

but he really couldn’t handle it anymore, each day he felt like he was slowly losing his sanity, not being able to feel his pretty bird. “please luvie? let’s jus’ try one more time, im a patient man.” simon pleaded, slowly kissing your neck as his large scarred hands rubbed your sides, coaxing you.

“please, i’ll make you feel so good.” it was pathetic how his cock was already straining against his pants, gently pressing the bulge against your clothed cunt. he almost came in his pants from the way you gently grind against his cock, the heat of your body making his blood rush to his groin.

“you want it too luvie, look at you, pretty lil thing desperate for my cock,” his voice hoarse as he gently nudged your legs apart. “can’t deprive my lil birdie from her needs can i?”

“it’s not gonna fit si,” you whined as he gave his cock a few pumps, eyes trained on you.

“it will baby, yer made for me.” he reassured, gently rubbing his thick fingers around your cunt, watching them glisten as he stretched you out. “yer lil cunnie is quite obedient when she’s needy.” simon could groan when he smelt your arousal, you were so god damn wet he was pretty sure he wouldn’t need lube.

“gonna give her some attention yeah luvie?” he leaned down as he gently pressed a kiss against your cunt, your nails tugged his hair as he gave a fat lick against your folds. the only form of intimacy the two of you had was giving each other head, his tongue deep inside you as he savoured each taste, ignoring how hard his cock was from his action alone. “she’s ready, i promise.” simon groaned as your arousal glistened down his chin, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to your cunt.

the moment his tip sank in he lost all control, a guttural groan leaving his mouth before slamming all the way in. “si!” you whined as you tried to back away, the sudden action giving you a burning sensation from the obscene stretch. “fuck, sorry luvie,” his large hands gently cradling your face before peppering your face with kisses. “jus’ not used to this feeling.”

he tried his best to go slow, really he did, but you just felt so warm and tight around him, gummy walls clenching around his cock like it was trying to remember every vein. “fuckin’ hell, it’s like yer tryin’ to milk me dry,” a sharp hiss left his lips as he tried to compose himself.

but he couldn’t stop, god you just felt so good, your cunt so welcoming that he couldn’t stop drilling deep inside you. despite your struggles of accomodating to his length your cunt gushed all over him, the most lewd wet noises filling up the room.

your body trembled with each thrust, tears streaming down your cheeks as you clawed his back. “fuck, i don’t wanna stop,” simon swore that his eyes could roll back from the feeling of your cunt alone. god, something would have to pull him off you.

“‘m gonna give this lil cunt the attention she deserves yeah? poor thing has only felt my tongue and fingers, need to fill her up as compensation yeah?”

simon didn’t stop until he filled your cunt up, admiring the way his cum leaked even with his cock stuffed inside you. “gonna fuck you till yer full of my cum, can’t have my pretty baby all empty can i?”

tag list: @happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone @other-fandoms-reblogs @goonette6969

[simonbrain]

getting the biggest, scariest bastard at the pub in your bed must have been one of your greatest achievements, especially after watching the way he turned down a few girls prior to you.

he glanced at you each time, disregarding the way the poor things scuttled off in embarrassment; their confidence dampened. it's like he was preening under your attention, and even underneath that silly balaclava of his, you picked up on the way he seemed to flush. his shoulders became more square, and his chest seemed to puff out more. the air around him became more charged with his cockiness rather than the pointless attempts at hiding himself from the other patrons. surely he's aware that he's the centre of the room, no matter which one.

he only grew more bold until he was right at your side, and you held his gaze the entire time.

now, he rewards you with the greatest dicking-down of your life, his fat cock stretching you impossibly thin, the thick girth bullying its way into you over and over again. he fucks you like a man starved, touches you as if he's trying to sink his hands beneath your soft skin and stroke your bones.

although nothing could have prepared you for how fucking filthy his mouth is. his voice holds the right amount of grittiness, the kind that makes your eyes roll back as he whispers the nastiest things in your ear, his accent adding to the thrill his words send down your spine. each moan that fell from his mouth, each promise of ruining you for anyone else after him, each pet name he called you had you going brainless on his cock, your sensitive bundle of nerves twitching under the pads of his fingers as he follows through with his promise. maybe if you were any more lucid, you might have realised it sounded more like a threat rather than just plain dirty talk.

the next morning, you woke up to an aching body, a bottle of water and a box of tylenol on your bedside table, and no stranger in your bed. this may be the greatest one-night stand you've ever had.

well, it was until you realised a couple of weeks later that you're still getting off to the image of him blanketing you and that damn voice of his purring low in your ear. your fingers circle your clit, your eyes unfocused as you imagine him on top of you, taking you deep right where he belongs, and when you think about how he growled at you to soak his cock like a good girl, you come all over your fingers with a humiliatingly loud whine.

it only gets worse from there. you can no longer come to porn unless the person in the video resembles the big boy who rearranged your guts, and even that is a feat of its own. you can't find anyone who has similar tattoos, similar scars, or even a similar voice. reading smut can only get you so far, and some nights, you go to bed feeling defeated because you just couldn't orgasm.

you get so desperate you start searching for those dirty little audios people post online, and for a while, you manage to make yourself come (maybe not as hard, but at this point, you'll take anything). the voices that rumble through your headphones aren't as husky as your mystery man, and their accents aren't exactly close to his, but it holds you off... until it doesn't. and now you're desperate to find him again, but he's probably long gone now.

you can't believe it; the fucker really did ruin you.

it's not until a few months later that you hear that familiar voice again, and your knees almost give out in the middle of the damn store.

(they actually do when simon, he tells you through hungry kisses, bends you in half in the dreadful alleyway, your poor cunt taking each brutal fill of that cock you've been craving so badly.

"she's fuckin' squeezin' me, sweet'art. missed me tha' much?" he chuckles hoarsely in your ear, and you would have fallen over if not for his firm hold keeping you upright.

yep, he can fuck right off again. you'll get your lick back. just as soon as your legs stop shaking and you're not seeing double.)

[gracieheartspedro]

You Really Got Me Now

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.2k words

description: your best friend and roommate eddie is pissing you off, per usual. his way of making you feel heard is not very conventional.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, roommate au, lowkey pwp, best friend!eddie, reader and eddie are both in their 30s, a bit of force proximity, reader is awkward as fuck (she just like me), reader hasn't gotten dick lately, mentions of voyeurism (eddie and reader have listened to each other having sex), kind of dom!eddie, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, lots and lots of dirty talk, eddie cums in reader.... annoying ass neighbors?

authors note: yeah i don't know. i'm just horny for this man. all of the time. thanks to lindsey @amanitacowboy who CONSISTENTLY feeds into my delusions. love u.

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

He pissed you off for the fourth time today. 

You had spent most of your day doing yard work, trying to ensure the home you two shared did not look overgrown for your snooty neighbors. They already hated that there was an unmarried couple living next to them. Even worse they were not even a couple. 

Eddie and you had been friends for over a decade. When you two could not find someone to settle down with once you both turned 30, you decided to rent a house together. You were sick of living at home with your parents and everyone else around you was in love. Steve had Kira, Robin had Vicki, and well… you had Eddie. Eddie had you. But not in a romantic sense. 

That’s what you two told yourselves, at least. 

Made crystal clear years ago, you and Eddie knew your friendship meant more than some knee jerk desires. You had kissed once, and you would be lying if you said you did not enjoy it. He was tentative, kissing you like he was trying to melt all your worries away. At the time, it was a desperate attempt to distract your mind from a shitty break up and Eddie had gotten a bit too high. 

That next morning, you sat down with him and discussed boundaries. No kissing, no sex. That was the hard line, and for years, you two had kept that promise to yourselves. 

There had been moments. An evening out with friends where you two would dance all night together and when you parted to go to your separate rooms, you would linger in the hallway just staring at each other. No one ever caved because you both knew you would regret it in the morning. Or the tense nights where one of you said something to rub the other person the wrong way. Sometimes it would turn into you two apologizing in the dimly lit kitchen, hugging and swaying near the flickering oven lightbulb. 

Today was going to be one of those days for sure. Everything he did rubbed you the wrong way.

He had not done the dishes last night, deciding to stay up late and drink himself into a deep slumber. When you woke up, wrapped in your falling-apart-at-the-seams robe and saw the dishes, you wanted to throw an empty beer bottle at him. But you didn’t. You just did them and didn’t say a word.

Then there was leaving his wet clothes in the washing machine. The moment your nose got a whiff of the despicable scent of molding clothes, you slammed the top down and groaned his name. He was not even in the house, deciding as soon as he woke up that he needed to go get a pack of cigarettes from the gas station. 

Then there was him being adamant about washing his van with the hose you were trying to use to water the dying plants in the flower beds surrounding your front door. You just grit your teeth, jerking your head into a nod when he asked for it. 

Now here he is, making you mad again as you sweat all of your body weight over some weeds. 

“I’m having some of the guys over tonight for some burgers-” “No.”

He narrows his eyes at you, swatting a gnat away from his face as you place your hands on your hips. 

“Why not?”

You had a list. A big long list. The house was a disaster. The neighbors called a noise complaint last time. The grill needed propane.

This was the tipping point. “Eddie, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you in our front yard,” You blow up, throwing off your gardening gloves, “You haven’t done shit for this house in months. I am like your own little personal housewife. I am the only person in this house that keeps it nice and clean. I haven’t had a night out in months because I am using my weekends to keep up with this shithole. I haven’t had a guy over in over a year, for fucks sake! No guy wants to fuck a girl who lives with a shitty roommate who can’t even clean. I need… I need your help.” 

His demeanor shifts, his shoulders slumping a bit. You did not mean for the word vomit to come out like that. You sounded vicious, but all of it needed to come out at sometime.

“Sweetheart-” But you do not want his excuses. You wave him off, storming towards the front door and swinging open the glass door, letting it shut behind you. You needed cold A/C on your face. You were about to pass out from anger and heatstroke. Damn Indiana summers. 

Eddie launches the door open, practically chasing you down to the kitchen. You stand under a vent, tilting your face directly towards the line of air. 

“What do you need my help with?” He asks, a slight arrogance in his tone. 

You don’t even look at him. You just hum as the cold air caresses your face. “The dishes. The laundry. Fuckin’ clean a toilet-”

“And what about guys not coming over?”

You finally tilt your head over at him, confused. “Huh?”

He looks at you with this fire in his eyes that you have almost never seen before. Maybe once or twice when one of his ex girlfriend’s said something based. He did not seem angry, per se, but he seemed agitated.

He crosses his arms over his chest, covering the Metallica logo on the front of his black tank top. His arms are toned and sprawling with randomly harsh lined tattoos. You had to thank Steve for the toned muscles as he was forcing Eddie to lift weights with him twice a week. You are definitely seeing the results. 

“You said no guy wants to fuck a girl who lives with a shitty roommate,” He states plainly, leaning against the kitchen island, “How am I supposed to help you with that?”

It’s like he’s trying to hint at something. Eddie was notorious for not saying what he really wanted to say, just simply talking around the subject. 

“Let me have a night off where I’m not cleaning up after you. Maybe I can bring a guy home.”

He cocks his head to the side, pursing his lips as his eyes take you in your sweaty clothing. You had sweat dripping into places you never knew you even had. You felt better being in the air conditioning, but that did not disguise the already stained areas of the front of your oversized t-shirt and biker shorts. 

“You don’t need me to… do anything else?”

Will this be fifth time Eddie Munson pisses you off today?

“Say what you need to say, Munson,” You warn, annoyed by the creeping smile on his face. 

You watch as he uncrosses his arms, leaning forward towards you. “Do you need me to fuck you, princess? Is that what this is?”

Your jaw hits the floor at his offer.

“What? H-how are you getting that from this-” “You just need a good fuck to release all this tension. It’s written all over you.”

He has never been this bold before. It’s blowing your mind. He has never propositioned sex to you, ever. Maybe jokingly. Wait, last week he did suggest it to get rid of your period cramps-

“You have to be kiddin’ me, Munson.”

He shakes his head, dipping his head down to meet your eyes, “I’m deadly serious, princess.”

“You’re just sayin’ this to piss me off even more-”

He presses his pointer finger to your lips, shushing you immediately, “All this talk and I’m not hearing a no.”

You swat his hand away, groaning in annoyance. You gave Eddie props, he was very convincing when he wanted to be. But you knew better.

But then again, it had been a year since a guy pleased you. 

“Eddie, you know the promise we made all those years ago. No kissing. No sex,” You lean further away, your back arching over the counter. “You can’t just propose this because I am angry at you and want you to take some accountability.”

“I’m not proposing this because I wanna weasel my way out of trouble. I’m doing it because you have been so tense these last couple months, I feel like I am walking on eggshells,” He explains, tossing his hands in the air dramatically, “Just let me get it out of your system. I know it’s been a year or so.”

“How do you know?”

You were trying to find a way out. The deepest darkest secret you held in the very depths of your heart was that you did have feelings for Eddie. You have since high school. But Eddie was occupied in every place in life and you got the permanent label as friend before you even had a chance. He dated around and you were stuck secretly obsessing over him, which- whatever. It was fine. 

All his passes at you were just normal at this point. You never gave them a second thought. You were idle in the idea that it was just jokes and that he never meant it. Even when he said he would give you head to make you feel better when the last guy you dated broke up with you. Or when he told you that he liked the way your hands felt pressed against his bare chest when you helped him apply sunscreen. Or when-

Wait... Did friends usually say that to each other?

“How do I know what?” He asks, his voice wavering a bit.

You huff, “How do you know it’s been a year?”

A mischievous smile spreads across his lips, “Because the last time I heard you through the wall moaning and begging, was about March of last year. It’s currently June.”

The heat rises back to your cheeks as you stare at him wide eyed. You did not realize he was even home when you last had someone over, let alone knew he heard it all.

“Eddie! You sick bastard! You listened?!”

You go to smack his chest but he snatches your hand away, the darkness in his eyes only hinting at his intentions. 

“How can I not? You were so loud for that guy,” He almost looks jealous. Almost. 

“I-“

“Just begging for him to let you cum. Did you, sweetheart? Did you cum for that slimeball?”

Your mouth opens slightly, realizing his hand is still wrapped around your wrist. No ease in the tension around it, just white-knuckling it. 

“I don’t remember-“

“Those moans sounded too good to be true, princess. But what do I know,” He sits back against the counter again, pulling your body closer as he does, “You’ve never cum for me. Maybe you actually do sound like that.”

You really should not. You should just yank your arm away from him and mark this down as Eddie just being a perv again. But something inside you, the tension, the annoyance, the desire, is starting to burn a pit in your stomach.

“I can.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling your wrist and hand up to his shoulder so you rest it there. You grip onto his bare shoulder, while his arm snakes around your waist. 

“You can what?”

Your mouth goes dry, unsure if you can actually mutter the words. You usually had no filter with Eddie, but right now you felt like your voice completely cut out. He looks down at you, his head tilted in curiosity. “Say it, sweetheart. You can what?”

You grit your teeth, finally submitting. 

“I could cum for you.”

He arrogantly smirks, his fingers sneaking up under your shirt, “Yeah, princess? You wanna cum for me?”

Coming from his lips, it’s like melted butter. It seems so natural, his voice dropping as he speaks such absurd things to you. You smack your lips together, almost like you are contemplating giving in. But your mind is already made up. 

Before you can even give him a taste of his own medicine, your mind slips.

“If only you make me scream like those other girls.”

Fuck. Why did you say that?

His mouth only widens, shocked at the statement. “So you were listening to me, huh? You called me a sick bastard mere moments ago when you were doing the same thing!”

Your fingers pinch his earlobe, making him flinch a bit. “Eddie, you cannot help but be loud! Neither can they!”

Your defense is weak, but you try to sound convincing. 

“Well they are screaming for a reason, sweetheart.”

You dismiss the comment for a minute, really trying to mull this idea over. Would this cost you his friendship? Was it all really worth it? 

Your nails trail down and dig into his shoulder blade, warningly. “Do you seriously want to do this?”

He shrugs, casually, like this is the most normal conversation you two have ever had. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get you in my bed for years. Seems like I just gotta get you all angry and hot for you to even think about it.”

The revelation deflates you a bit. You mentally slap yourself, thinking back to all the times Eddie has offered you ‘time’ with him in bed. You always took his passes as jokes, because that’s just Eddie. He’s never been serious a day in his life. 

You press your body into him more, your nose getting closer to his, “You’ve wanted this for years?”

He nudges your nose with his, playfully, “Don’t act all surprised.”

The tension is at an all time high. The moment your eyes drop to his lips, you cannot peel them away from them. You have been close to him like this before, but never with explicit intentions. Maybe just to tease him or pester him. One time to inspect a possible bug that flew into his eye. 

Eddie was your friend. Best friend. 

Why was he looking different?

He notes the way you are silent, observing the way his lips curl upward into a toothless grin. 

He shifts down, capturing your lips in a hesitant kiss, testing the waters. When the softness of his lips makes impact on your slightly dry lips, you feel self-conscious for a beat. 

That was until you felt Eddie’s other hand sneak around your waist and pull you even closer. It’s the quiet reassurance you did not even know you needed. 

You lean into it, practically falling into his chest completely. The kiss only progresses from there. Your hand cradles his neck as his hands sneak down from your waist to your ass. You had seen Eddie kiss before, but having it be done to you is a completely different experience. He’s hungry for it, but he’s also so tender and calculated with the movements. 

The groping turns into him leveraging you upward onto the countertop. He slots himself between your legs, feeling up your thighs as his tongue slips past your lips. He’s good at stimulating you in every way, your body riddled with goosebumps. You cannot help the groans leaving your throat.

“God, you’re so hot,” He grumbles between kisses. You giggle into his mouth which makes him shake his head and pull away. 

You hold his face close to yours, smiling up at his lust-blown eyes. “Never thought I’d hear you say that. Well… in this situation at least.”

“Can you just shush and let me make you feel good?” His lips trail down from your cheek peppering wet kisses to your neck, “Lemme make it up to you, sweetheart. Been a bad friend. Bad roommate.”

You roll your eyes for two reasons. One, he’s a dork. Two, his lips feel way too good on your throat.

“Make it up to me by being a good lover.”

He barks a laugh, almost too loud for the joke. “Oh, you want me to make love to you?”

“Can you just keep kissin’-”

His lips touch your collarbones and suddenly your body stiffens. You look down at his sinful expression, his lips dragging lower over your chest. His hand returns to the hem of your shirt, slowly tugging it over your head. Your ratty old sports bra was the least sexy thing you could be wearing, but Eddie eyes you like you are in lacey red lingerie with his name stitched into it. You take it upon yourself to peel the sweaty bra off, luckily the only scent you smell when you lift your arms is your antiperspirant.

“You are more perfect than I imagined,” Eddie mumbles, his hands reaching out to cup your boobs. His hands still adorned with his gaudy rings. Makes the sight even more breathtaking. 

You roll your eyes, not believing him, “You’ve seen me in a bathing-”

His head dips down, catching your nipple in his mouth. The action silences you and instead of continuing your nervous babbling, you moan out his name. He rolls your pebbled nipple between his teeth while hissing in satisfaction. You can not stop yourself from raking your fingers through his curls. 

He pulls away from your chest, pressing a quick kiss to your other tit, “I can’t do this if you continue to give me grief.”

The dig makes you blush. You were always awful when it came to dirty talk. Making it awkward was, unfortunately, your specialty. You nod sheepishly, untangling your fingers from his deep chocolate brown hair.

“I’ll shut up.”

He shakes his head, his lips finding the spot right below your ear. You can feel the smirk on his face, "No, don’t shut up. Just keep making those other pretty sounds for me, sweetheart.”

His thumbs hook around the elastic waistband of your shorts, tugging them down. You lift your hips, using his shoulders to balance yourself. You don’t expect him to have you completely naked on your kitchen counter, but the moment your underwear peel away from your cunt, you realize that the wetness between your legs is not just sweat. 

He pulls away from your neck to look at your bare body before him and the groan he lets out makes your pussy clench around nothing. His hand skips down your body, eventually groping your hips. 

“Eddie,” You hum, tilting his chin up so his eyes meet yours, “I’m very naked and you are not.”

He smiles wickedly, shaking his head, “‘Cause I ain’t fuckin’ you here, sweetheart. This is just a really good place for me to get on my knees and devour you.”

You swallow hard, watching him drop to one knee, making him eye level with your glistening cunt, “And look at how beautiful and wet she is for me. This all for me, sweet girl?”

“You’re not the only one who’s been wanting this for a while,” You admit, your eyes drooping to watch his mouth move across your inner thighs. You are a bit self-conscious, not having prepared your pussy for this kind of activity, but Eddie does not seem to mind. He admires you like a piece of art at a museum.

He flicks his tongue out of his mouth, unhurriedly moving up your slit. Once he has his first taste, that smile returns, “Mmm, there’s that confession I’ve been waiting for.”

Your mind draws a blank as he dives back in, pressing his tongue between your pussy lips. He has never looked so happy doing a task in his life, his beautifully straight teeth bared as his tongue swirls around your clit. His grip only tightens on your thighs ensuring you do not move them together. He needs you nice and wide open while he tongue fucks you. 

He becomes more eager with his movements the moment you try to brace yourself on the edge of the counter. His fingers hook down into your flesh, dragging you to the edge of the surface. He does not miss a beat while he suckles on your clit, wrapping his plump pink lips around it and slurping it like a straw. 

The knot in your stomach is tightening as you study his actions. Somehow it is like he knows your body better than you do. 

The instant he sinks his pointer and middle finger into your soaked cunt, it is game over. Your body reacts before your mind does, vibrating against his mouth and fingers. He does not slow down when you clench around him, instead, he increases his speed and ministrations. 

“Jesus, fuck, Eddie,” you whimper, surrendering to the climax. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting your mouth hang ajar as random moans escape you. Your nerve endings have never felt so electrified in your life. 

Once you feel a slight come down, Eddie comes back up for air. His lips are shiny with his own saliva and whatever escaped you when you came. 

You drop your head back, hitting the upper cabinet. 

“You didn’t even have to beg for the first one,” He grunts, getting back to his feet. He locks his arm around your knees and drags your upper half into his other arm, “But the second one, you have to ask for permission, ‘kay?”

His lips are pressed to your temple, kissing you gingerly. 

“You want me to beg, Eds?”

He chuckles darkly, carrying you princess-style across the house and to the living room. He could take you to bed, but he is not sure if that feels too intimate. You just want him inside you, not caring much where he decides to do it. 

You bounce on the worn-down couch as he drops you down, your bare ass immediately sticking to the leather. His discards his tank top and practically jumps on top of you, his hips resting between your legs. You greedily tug at his basketball shorts, begging to reveal the length behind the tented fabric. 

“Mmm, eager, are we?”

You had seen Eddie’s ass plenty of times. His shirtless frame. But never his dick. His tight pants left little to the imagination most times. But up close, pressed against your palm, you cannot help but gasp about how big he is. 

He grabs your wrist firmly, his curls dropping down his shoulders as he shakes his head, “Wanna hear you beg.”

It spills right out of your desperate mouth. “Please, Eddie.”

“Please what?”

“Let me see your cock,” Your eyes reflecting faux innocence, “Please?”

He cannot help but giggle, assisting you in getting his shorts down his tattooed legs. You had been next to him for the big one on his right thigh, an ode to his favorite Metallica album. You did not completely understand the concept, but the black ink littering his body only added to his appeal. 

His cock is even better than your mind had mocked up before. Long, slightly curved to the left, and not too thick that he may split you in half. 

You truly cannot fathom the fact that this is happening. He is willingly showing you his dick and smiling at you while you gawk. 

He is naked above you, and God is he breathtaking. The mop of curls, the broadness of his shoulders, his very slight tummy from all the beer he drinks, the works of art littering his pale skin.

Your eyes finally make their way back up to his, only to note the serious look he’s giving you. 

“What?”

His lips twitch, “Just can’t believe I finally get to do this. And that it’s real and it’s not all in my head.”

Your heart stutters. 

You lick your lips, searching every crevice of your mind for a response. He realizes that you are trying to muddle up a reply and that he has broken your brain temporarily. So instead of letting you counter his statement, he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. 

He wastes no time after that, grabbing his dick and pushing it between your slick folds. You groan into his mouth, your pussy still very sensitive from the first orgasm he gave you. Your hand snakes around the back of his neck, holding his face close to yours. 

“Eddie-“

He pushes into you before you can say anything else, a hiss whistling between his clenched teeth. 

“God damn,” He throws his head back, shaking your hand away from his neck, “You’re fuckin’ tight, princess.”

The moan that leaves your throat is a whole octave lower than your actual voice. Eddie looks down at you, the widest smile painted across his face. You feel his hips inch closer and closer to you and you realize he is not fully inside you yet. 

You take a breath, trying to relax your muscles, “Please, please, please.”

He snaps his hips forward, a dark guttural chuckle taunting you. “There she is. Beggin’.”

Eddie had changed into a completely different person. Sure, he was always picking on you, but this was a stark contrast from your silly best friend. The man above you, slowly rocking his hips inside you, was feral. His confidence only burning brighter the more you whimper for him. 

“Please, faster.”

The wet squelching noise that emits between your bodies is borderline embarrassing. You had never heard such a sound with any other man. Eddie loves it, though. The idea that you were just gushing for him is enough to send him into overdrive. 

“Yeah? You want me to go faster,” He pushes your thighs apart, spreading you wider. He wants to look at how beautiful your pussy looks stuffed full of him. “Look at that.”

You shift yourself up on your elbows, looking down at the sight he cannot peel his eyes away from. “Jesus, I cannot believe…”

You drift off, watching Eddie slowly retreat back only to sharply snap forward. Your jaw goes slack as he drives himself into you, disappearing over and over again. 

Eddie‘s eyes are now on you, watching your tits jiggle every time his cock pierces your squishy walls. 

“You really needed this, huh, princess?”

You watch as he reaches down between your bodies, swiping your clit with his thumb.

Your eyes roll back, unable to hold yourself together, “I really did, oh my god.”

Your legs stiffen and Eddie’s hands loosen up, letting you squirm and adjust yourself. Your hips burn and your mind is mush. Eddie’s erratic movements against your swollen bud and his rapidly moving hips are overstimulating, you cannot help but lock your legs around him. 

“Yeah, I can fucking feel you clenching around me,” He babbles, licking his lips, “You just take my cock so well, don’t you? Just fuckin’ made for me.”

He does not stop talking as you grunt your response. You have never seen the man so driven to get something done in your life. He wants to cum, but he wants to feel you fall apart on him even more. His words are just pouring out of him.

“Yeah? You want me to make you mine, huh? Gonna make this pussy somethin’ only I can have.“

Your eyes fly open in shock, his words ringing in your ears. You feel his dick twitch inside you, hitting the same perfect spot over and over again. “Please, please.”

“Fuck, say it, baby. Say that you’re mine.”

He is so desperate, his usual calm, cool, collected voice faltering. 

“I’m yours, Eddie.”

His thumb presses hard down on your clit, causing your hips to shift upward. The nerve endings that were ablaze before are now imploding. 

The vibration of your body catches him off guard at first, so he locks his hands on your hips. You lurch your body into a crescent shape as he continues to chase his high. A final scream rips through your body, chanting his name. 

Every snap forward was another word slipping from his practically drooling mouth. He fucked his cum deep inside you, his words bouncing off the walls.

“Yes.” “The.” “Fuck.” “You.” “Are.”

Your body goes completely limp under him the moment your high dissipates. He is panting like he just ran 10 miles as he slowly drifts to his side, positioning his nude body between your body and the back couch cushions. When his cock leaves your cunt, he dribbles cum over your mound and lower tummy. You glance down at your body, completely blissed out. 

You have never felt more appreciated in your life.

He lays his head right on your shoulder, fanning your sweaty body with his warm breath. He does not say anything, just settles next you, throwing his arm over your midsection.

You swallow, trying to regain your composure. You thought after doing something like this with Eddie, you would feel some guilt. Regret, maybe. But none of those emotions spring up.

You felt relaxed and at peace. Like you walked off the edge of a cliff and instead of landing on a rocky bottom, you landed on a sea of fluffy pillows. It was a relief. 

Your eyes fall onto his lazily smirking face, “I did really need that.”

He hums his response at first, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I could tell. I can read you pretty well, huh?”

That’s the understatement of the century. He can read you perfectly. 

You start to reflect on every word that spilled from his lips during the entire interaction, and suddenly your stomach is in knots. You start to wonder if he really did feel those things, or if he was just lost in the moment. You almost don’t ask in fear that he will tell you something you didn’t want to hear. 

“Did you mean everything you said,” You press, your hand absentmindedly tucking some of his hair behind of his ear. His fingers dance across your flesh, eventually swirling around your collarbones.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

He says it so simply. You wanted to believe it was that easy, but there is logistical things that needed to be discussed. Feelings and thoughts that needed further explanation. 

Eddie can see that your mind is racing. Your expression gives you away every time. His mouth slowly opens to further elaborate on his response, but before he can get out a word, there’s a pounding at your front door. 

It is so sudden and loud, you both sit up from the couch. 

“Mr. Munson! You left your hose on! There’s a drought-”

You tune out the rest of the rant from your elderly neighbor because Eddie starts chuckling and rubbing his eyes. He looks down at you as the rant starts to get louder, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips before grabbing his boxers off the floor. 

“You stay there, beautiful. I’ll deal with this.”

You do as he says, the bliss he left you in after the kiss enough to hold you over until he comes crawling back on top of you. He stumbles back into his boxers, going to the front door and cracking it so he can get eyes on your neighbor. 

“Yeah, my fault, Mr. O’Connell. Had to comfort my lady because she cut herself on the shovel. I’ll be right out to shut off that hose and save the rainforest or whatever.”

You hear a scoff from behind the door, the older gentleman taken off guard. “Oh, so she’s your lady now?”

You can hear the smile that spreads across his face. “Always has been, sir.”

[rafesangelita]

♡ rafe accidentally puts barry on speaker..

warnings: enemies to ???, bitchy!kook!reader might make some of you frustrated but please just trust the process loll, teasing, flirty banter, majorrrr sexual tension, slight angst, mentions of absent parents/abandonment, arguing

a/n: this is part four of this mini series <3 i cannot believe i’m writing one more part to this before it’s over. thank you to everyone who continue to show their love and support, it truly means so much to me!!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 3.0k

“you’re going over to rafe’s and you didn’t even tell me?!” chanel shot up from her spot on your bed while you ran around your room trying to put an outfit together. “i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay?! all he said was that we got off on the wrong foot and he wants to start over. that’s it.” chanel arched a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “he sooo wants to fuck you, please tell me you’re not playing coy just to give him the benefit of the doubt.” you stayed silent, avoiding her gaze.

“y/n—”

“nothing is gonna happen between us. you and topper are dating now, so it would only be fair if me and rafe could at least try to get along since we’ll be around each other a lot more.” your best friend scoffed, not buying a single word that was coming out of your mouth. “don’t use me and topper as your excuse for giving rafe a chance, just say you’re interested in him! it’s totally fine if you are..” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you scanned your closet for a pair of heeled boots. “wow, chanel. i’m honestly offended that you think i’d ever give rafe a real shot.”

slipping on your shoes, you cursed under your breath as chanel watched you struggle with the zipper. “well, excuse me,” she strutted off, plopping down on your bed once again, “i just thought since you were totally eye fucking him out on the golf course the other day that you’d at least have agreed because there was some kind of attraction there.” you huffed. of course she’d bring that up. “i may have called him every single name in the book, but i never said he wasn’t handsome, alright? anyone with eyes would tell you the same thing.” you rolled your eyes once you heard her cackle. “whateverrr!”

one hour and three outfit changes later, and you found yourself posing for chanel’s camera as she snapped pictures of you in your sexy getup. “it should be a crime that you look this hot and you’re just going to rafe’s house. like he seriously needs to take you to the mainland and show you off or something.” you were quick to grab your purse and make your way downstairs once you saw that you were already running thirty minutes late. “will you be here when i get back?” you asked her, spritzing some perfume in the curve of your neck. “uhh, duh! i’m gonna need all the dirty details..”

you took that as your cue to leave. “not happening!” you called out, making your way down to the car out front. chanel waited until you got in before stepping back inside. the drive wasn’t long, considering rafe only lived about eight minutes away from you. it wasn’t until you were standing in front of rafe’s door that you realized you probably should’ve asked for his number back when you two talked at the country club. oh, god. you two haven’t even had any kind of communication since then.

what if he wasn’t home?

..or worse; what if he completely forgot about the whole thing and you were standing out here like a total idiot?

“this is stupid..” you whispered, looking back to see if your car was still there. before you could overthink, you stepped back once you heard the door unlock, the hardwood opening up to reveal rafe in a collared shirt that made his biceps look like they were going to burst through the fabric. “i thought you stood me up there for a minute.” he moved aside, motioning for you to come in before shutting the door behind you. “i almost did..” rafe snorted at your words, shaking his head before taking the view of you in.

“you look— wow..” you watched as his eyes raked down your figure, his jaw ticking once he saw how revealing your dress was. “you like it?” you turned around, looking back at him through your lashes. swallowing thickly, rafe didn’t say a word as he lead you two over to the living room with his hand resting in the small of your back. “for someone who swore they weren’t trying to sleep with me, the candles aren’t really convincing..” you looked around his set up, the living room being illuminated by the soft flickers of candle flames along with a bottle of wine and two glasses that sat in the middle of the coffee table.

“oh, so you’re saying i have a chance?” rafe sat you down, wasting no time in pouring you both a drink. crossing one leg over the other, you let your dress ride up your thighs before humming. “mmm, no.” rafe sighed, handing you a glass before settling in next to you. “we’ll see about that.” you ignored the way your stomach flipped once rafe draped an arm across your shoulders, your cheeks heating at how close he was. taking a sip from your glass, you glanced at him briefly before relaxing in his hold.

silence fell over you two and you swore rafe could hear your heart beating out of your chest. “am i tripping, or are you nervous right now?” you laughed, the sound making you inwardly cringe. “you wish, ‘cameron.” rafe smiled at your obvious facade. he could see right through you. “it’s kinda hard to tell,” he lied, “i mean— you show up to my place looking like this, i’d assume the last thing you could feel right now is nervous.” his mouth was right next to your ear, the bass of his voice making you squirm in your seat.

“that’s your problem,” you breathed out shakily, “you’re always just assuming things.” rafe tongued his cheek, his gaze flickering down to your lips. “speaking of that..” he trailed off, “i know i already apologized to you last time we talked, but i want you to know that i truly do regret speaking about you in a negative light.” you knew he was being sincere by the way he was looking at you. “it’s fine,” you waved him off, “it wouldn’t be the first time someone called me a bitch. ‘spoiled little brat’ isn’t a new one either, i just wish people understood that even that title comes with a cost.” rafe’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

“what do you mean by that?” the last time this same exact topic came up, you shut down and put your defenses back up once you realized the conversation was veering towards your relationship, or lack there of, with your parents. you were so tired of being misunderstood, you decided that you’d just let rafe know about the very things you became accustomed to hiding. “i’m still paying for everything that i have and everything that i continue to buy, just not in the way that you might think..”

“how then?” you closed your eyes for a moment. there was no coming back from this. “my parents just give me everything because they feel guilty— guilty for not being there.. like ever.” you laughed incredulously. “not there?” rafe repeated, “your parents have their own column in kildare’s newspaper, they have to be here.” you shook your head, taking another drink from the wine in your glass. “no, they don’t.. i haven’t seen or heard from them in eight months.” rafe’s eyes widened. “what? well where the hell are they?!” he spoke up.

“it’s ironic. they actually bought another house on the mainland and didn’t tell me shit about it. i found out a while back when i opened the congratulatory letter from their realtor. ‘guess they haven’t had a chance to change their postal address yet.” rafe took a minute to put your words together, his arm leaving your shoulders so he could rub his temples. “so let me get this straight,” he started, “you’ve been all by yourself in that empty house of yours for months now, and in order for your parents to ‘make up’ lost time, they just give you money so that they don’t feel bad for essentially abandoning their daughter?” you winced as soon as you heard it.

you hadn’t come to terms with the ‘a’ word just yet, though it’s been lingering in the back of your mind since you were a little girl. “i don’t know about ‘abandoning’ per say, they still support me..” your voice cracked and you hated it. the sound drew rafe’s attention immediately. “uh, yeah— with money. but what else?” he scoffed. “what else could i possibly need? in their minds; i have it all. which i kind of do, but it all means nothing at the end of the day when i have a dining table that can sit twenty people and i’m the only one sitting at it.” your last sentence hit particularly close to home for rafe, especially since he has spent countless evenings eating dinner by himself at his own oversized table.

he could see the hurt written all over your face. you two weren’t so different after all. “i’m sorry.” rafe’s voice barely came out above a whisper, his hand finding your knee as you shook your head. “don’t be. i’ve stopped the pity party a long time ago,” you cleared your throat, “please say something about you now because i don’t think i could handle being the only one in the hot seat.” rafe’s mind started reeling as he was unsure of what to say.

“uhm, well— since we’re on the topic of fucked up parents..”

for the next hour and a half, rafe gave you the full rundown of him and his dad’s relationship, not leaving out a single detail as you listened to him intently. “as much as i wanted to make my dad proud of me, everything i did was never enough for him. i was a fuck up for a long time but i stepped up when he couldn’t and he never recognized that.” you and rafe had long since forgotten about your wine glasses, and were now taking turns drinking from the actual bottle itself. “if he hated me then, he would hate me even more now.” he sighed, leaning all the way back into the cushions of the sofa.

you blinked once you saw him manspread, the alcohol taking its effect as it ran through your system. “why?” your voice came out higher than usual, the sound being a dead giveaway that you were now officially tipsy. “because.. i don’t have my family together the way he would’ve wanted. rose, my dad’s wife, took my little sister to an undisclosed location and deactivated her phone so it’s impossible for me to have direct communication with her, and sarah ran off without telling me any details, so she could be pretty much anywhere, and yeah, that sums everything up.”

you stared at the side of rafe’s face, his features being highlighted by the soft light flickering in the room. in your current position you could feel rafe’s chest rise and fall with each breath, the warmth of his body against your own making you feel fuzzy inside. rafe had his hand resting comfortably on the side of your thigh, your legs draped across his lap as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “it sounds like we’re just lonely people.” you whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. oddly enough, rafe didn’t expect you to make him feel this comfortable so fast.

while he was sure it was the alcohol that made you lighten up and actually cling to him, he realized quickly that he liked feeling you close. “you know.. i could surround myself with all of my friends, go to parties where the living room is filled to the fucking brim, and yet, right now is the first time i can genuinely say that i don’t feel alone with you right here next to me.” your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. you didn’t realize just how bad you needed to be understood by someone until now.

you don’t know when, but you found yourself leaning into him, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled you towards his lips. you couldn’t believe this was happening, sober or not, you’ve known all along that the bickering and fighting was building up just for this very moment.

..and then his phone rang.

you were less than an inch away from each other, both of you freezing right before your lips could meet. “fuck.” he pulled away, making you purse your lips together as he took the device out of his pocket. following his line of vision, you looked down at the contact name. barry. your eyebrows knitted in confusion. who the hell could that be, and why did they have to call right this second? “shit, i gotta take this,” he cursed under his breath, “i’ll be right back. promise.” you smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

it’s fine, you needed to reapply your lipgloss anyways.

out of habit, rafe put his old friend on speaker, the volume loud enough for you to hear the unfamiliar voice from the kitchen. “what.” rafe sounded irritated once he spoke into the receiver.

“country club!” you felt your heart drop at the name, “where the fuck have you been? you’re too ‘rich boy’ to swing by and drink a beer on the cut?” your stomach twisted as you felt your blood run cold.

country club. the cut. your past conversations with your so called ‘mystery’ man ran through your head, everything that you once suspected now coming to fruition. oh, god, how could you have missed all of the signs? the night you two both went on a date.. the same date where you sent him nudes in the bathroom of his own boat. his little ‘cute skirt.’ comment after you texted him saying that you were wearing one in hopes for him to find you somewhere. suddenly you felt like the room was getting smaller, your sanity hanging on by a single thread.

no, you had to be overthinking this. surely, rafe couldn’t be your guy. if he was, that means he has known who you are behind the screen for who knows how long? just as you stood up, rafe came back into the living room. “sorry about that, it was nothing—” you cut him off, “country club?” he froze. it wasn’t until he saw the mortified look on your face that he realized he made the grave mistake of putting barry’s call on speaker. eyeing the front door behind him, rafe lunged for you the second you tried to leave the living room.

“y/n—” he grabbed your shoulders, your eyes watering out of embarrassment. “you can’t be him.” you shook your head as he backed you up into the wall. “i am, though,” he took ahold of your wrists so you could stop thrashing against him, “i am him.” you felt a shiver run down your spine at the confirmation. “and you’re you. you’re mine.” you scoffed, turning your head away from his view. “let go of me.” rafe didn’t budge, your frustration only growing.

“i found out you were my girl after our date on the druthers. the same necklace, the nails.. the things you’ve said to me in person being repeated over the phone. i knew it was you.” you whimpered, still trying to get out of his grip. “i’m not your girl, don’t call me that.” rafe smiled, his broad build towering over you with ease. “you don’t have to be embarrassed about anything. in case you forgot, we both did some things.”

“shut the fuck up.” you finally managed to push him away, your hands flying to pull the hem of your dress down. “why would you go on without telling me anything, don’t you realize how fucking stupid i must feel right now?!” you cried out. “i wanted you to find out once you felt ready to, okay?! what happened right now was a mistake on my part, i’m sorry!”

“there’s no ‘me and you’, i’m not yours, and you aren’t mine. this should’ve never happened.” rafe hated how those words sounded coming out of your mouth. “the switch up is crazy.” he laughed, shaking his head. “just five minutes ago you were ready to kiss me, and right before that we spent nearly two hours discussing our differences and being vulnerable with each other. now what?” you let out a breath. “we would never work. let’s just leave it at that—” rafe was already disagreeing with you before you could finish your sentence.

“i won’t just ‘leave’ it. i can’t.” he stepped closer. “you’re saying we’ll never work, but you won’t even try.” rafe scoffed, “who’s stopping us? is this like an ego thing? say the word and i’ll set you straight right now.” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your body reacted to his words. “you really sat there in my face and acted clueless..” you glared at him, “you know things about me that no one else— not even my best friend, knows about,” you whispered, “this is too much for me right now.”

sniffling, you felt relief wash over you once you heard a honk outside. “don’t leave,” rafe pulled you from walking to the front door, “please, we could figure something out.” without another word, you left, rafe’s voice calling out to you with each step you got closer to the car. you were able to compose yourself before you got home, thankful that chanel was knocked out cold so you wouldn’t have to recap the shitty night you just had.

taking your phone out of your purse, you were met with multiple messages from rafe himself.

[11:44 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m not letting you run away from this.

[11:45 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : we see each other everyday y/n, we’re gonna have to talk this out at some point.

[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m sorry.

[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : you have every reason to be mad at me, i could understand that.

[11:48 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : look. i have to go on the mainland for some business stuff but i’ll be staying at the ‘paradise’ hotel for the next week. i’ll be there any time after eight, i’ll text you my room details when i get checked in. please just come see me.

taglist: @meallan01 @sf1738 @emeloyy @hmmshhhh @chelzaa @starkeycore @liyah4evaaaa @hnybitches @urbimom @kittenjujusblog @femaholicc @lil-sparklqueen @yktayy9669 @matthewswifeyy @icaqttt @jjasmiineee @lilithblackkk @rafecameronswhoore @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @ditzyzombiesblog @i-love-gvf @blondrafe @wolf-2005 @brianquinnlvr @lightbluebaby @jkrafe @lovemaybankk @xcinnamonmalfoyx @drewstarkeysbabe @issues4him @dahliaparton @slut-4-gojo @luvagirlsworld @nemesyaaa @jwdiaries @midsoulz @drewstarkeyzwhore @urmotherlvr @chillgal135 @wtfisastiles @dollyfiles @annaconscience @rafesluvr @locallyhateddoll @acidfeens @cherubfille @whathechickenstrip @my-name-is-baby @wtfdudesblog @atjlovverr

[dollgxtz]

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

[sinner-as-saint]

the alchemy

Mob!Bucky x Reader 

Run-through: About a decade ago you left your home and ran away, looking for a fresh start after having had your heart broken by the boy you loved. Now you’re back and turns out Bucky Barnes – the same man who once broke your heart – is adamant on tormenting you some more. But why? Why does he want you back at all cost when he was the one who once pushed you away and crushed your heart like it meant nothing to him? What secrets has he been keeping for almost a decade? Most importantly, what truly happened that night he broke your heart? 

Themes: forced marriage/marriage of convenience, angst, mob!bucky, metal arm, fluff, smut, possessive!bucky, childhood friends-to-enemies-to-lovers trope, bratty!reader, mentions of violence, explicit language, slow burn-ish, HEA 

a/n: new mob!bucky pics dropped–

“I do.” You said in a sombre voice, with blood dripping from the cut on your lip as you sealed your fate and married your worst enemy. 

Bucky’s face was bleeding too, your nails had done some damage earlier when you both got into a physical altercation like wild animals. You nearly smirked when you realised he looked worse than you did. 

Then again you both looked like you went through hell as you stood here, at this makeshift altar, in the middle of what used to be the foyer of your father’s mansion before Bucky and his men shot at it until it was nothing but rubble, broken glass, and cracked marble. 

Messy hair. Cuts and bruises all over your bodies. Dishevelled clothes. Your white jumpsuit had your own bloodstains on it, and his all black suit was torn in certain places. But he looked every bit the man they say he is. Dangerous. Cold, dark presence. The large bruise on his jaw was beginning to get darker now, thanks to the many punches from you. His near shoulder length hair was surprisingly looking neat. It pissed you off. 

You looked like a mess too. And for a brief second, as his blue eyes looked down at your throat, you knew he could see a matching bruise forming around your neck from when he’d pinned you down to the floor earlier with that damned metal arm. 

No one was dead, none of your people and none of his. Thankfully. But right now, as you married the man standing in front of you, you felt dead inside. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” Was all you heard and you remained still as Bucky grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. 

You resisted for a moment, but then he pulled you harder until your chests collided and you had no choice but to remain pressed against him. “I’m tired of these games, princess.” He hissed in a lowered voice, looking down at you with his merciless blue eyes. 

You stared back at him with equal contempt. “You’re gonna regret this, Barnes.” You sneered, in a hushed voice. Not that the injured family members and men surrounding you – both his men and your father’s guards who stood and watched the show in disbelief and shock would mind the disrespect for each other in both your tones – but you didn’t want to add to the ridiculousness of this situation. 

“Oh?” He taunted with a faint smirk. Only then did you notice the small cut on his upper lip. It brought you a little solace. “You’re my wife now, you will do as I say.” 

The bitterness in your tone matched his as you said, “We’ll see about that, husband.” 

You could tell he’d accepted the unspoken challenge, and he would do anything to win. After all, everything was a game to Bucky Barnes. He didn’t care who he used, who he manipulated, or who he tossed aside. He paraded around like he owned this world and everything and everyone in it. 

Bucky scoffed then leaned in to kiss you, hard. It wasn’t a loving kiss in any way. It was possessive though. Like he was putting on a show for whoever was watching, making sure everyone in this dilapidated room understood that you were his now. 

You kissed him back, angrily. You despised him. Your entire family did. But they couldn’t save you this time. Bucky’s attack was unexpected. Your guards were unprepared. You were the last line of defence and this… union was necessary. You had to offer something, anything. Otherwise Bucky and his guys threatened to burn down your half of the city and turned it to ash immediately. 

But it wasn’t always like this. Your families used to be allies. You actually grew up with Bucky, he tolerated you enough back then and you had always had a crush on him. 

Then that night happened almost a decade ago… 

It was your twentieth birthday party, and your father made an announcement which you were not ready for. 

He announced to the ballroom filled with important people that you were to marry Bucky, and that both families were beyond happy to transform their friendship into something more solid through this alliance. 

You remained frozen in place for long minutes after that announcement was made, even though your heart raced like never before. No one had told you about this, but judging by the way your family hugged and congratulated Bucky’s family you understood that this was all planned. 

You kept that smile on your face though, as people walked over to congratulate you. You looked around and tried to find Bucky in the crowd to see if he knew about this but he was nowhere to be found. 

You were certain he was here just a moment ago, leaning against one of the pillars and brooding as always. And he’d just disappeared. 

The announcement made your heart flutter incessantly. After all, you’d always had a huge crush on Bucky. How could you not? He was the boy you grew up around, he had pretty eyes and nice hair. Sure he was broody and rarely ever smiled but you liked how it suited his bad boy personality. And your young heart was weak for the handsome boy with tattoos and blue eyes. 

After people were done congratulating you, you discretely walked out of the party and decided to look around and try to find Bucky. You hated how giddy you were. Sure, Bucky was broody and rarely ever laughed. He spent his entire time glaring at you then getting jealous when you talked to other guys. But you had liked him since forever. 

You looked all over your father’s mansion. Bucky was nowhere to be found indoors. So… maybe the pool area outside? You started walking in that direction, feeling like a princess in your white ball gown as you walked down an empty hallway, a faint smile on your face as you looked for the man you were meant to marry soon. 

Maybe Bucky knew about this announcement. Maybe he was okay with it. Maybe this would be your fairytale in real life, you thought. Maybe you’d melt his frozen heart and everything would be perfect. Maybe he liked you back all along and you just never knew! 

“...marry her?” 

Your smile vanished as you stopped right before you stepped outside onto the patio. Was that Bucky’s voice? Was he talking to someone? You quietly stepped closer, hiding behind the plants as you tried your hardest to listen to what he was saying. 

You could see him, standing on the black tiles by the pool. He had his back to you, and he held a phone to his ear. His broad shoulders and lean waist accentuated by how well that black suit moulded to his muscular body. You watched as he ran his fingers through his short black hair in frustration. 

Who was he talking to? 

“No!” He barked at the phone. “Did you not listen to what I just said? I don’t want to do this!” He yelled, not bothering that anyone around might hear him. “I tried to talk them out of it! This is so fucking stupid!” 

You blinked in surprise, unable to process what you were hearing. 

“I don’t care what I have to do, but I will not marry her.” He said with enough venomous certitude that a silent tear fell down your face. 

All your previous delusions turned to nothing but heavy disappointment. It made you feel stupid. This gown felt stupid. The diamonds around your neck, around your wrists and in your hair felt stupid. How stupid of you to think this was all going to end well? How stupid of you to think your childhood crush actually meant something? How stupid of you to think that there was a chance he liked you back? Of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t have ignored you for years if he did. 

You couldn’t stop the sudden sob that escaped your mouth. Afraid that he might have heard, you took a few steps back and hid behind a nearby, tall potted shrub. 

Things were quiet for a moment or two. You heard him whispering so quietly you couldn’t make out what he said. Your face burned in embarrassment at the thought of him finding you here. You already felt stupid and childish, you didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping in this situation. 

But then he resumed talking on the phone. You couldn’t risk moving to look at him so you remained hiding, and listened. Your heart broke with each word that left his mouth. 

“And she’s so blind she doesn’t even see it.” He hissed, louder this time. “I barely tolerate her. Her whiny, and bratty attitude. I mean she’s a grown woman and still acts like she’s daddy’s little princess.” He scoffed. “You should’ve seen her today, she looks like a kid’s toy with that ridiculous dress on.” 

More tears streamed down your face as you heard nothing but distaste and irritation in his voice. This was the boy you had a hopeless crush on? This is what he thought of you? 

You didn’t need to hear more. This was more than enough to completely break you so you turned around and quietly walked back down the same hallway. You wiped your tears, and put a fake smile on as you went back to your party. This time with a plan in your head. 

You endured the party with a heavy heart. Faked some more smiles until it ended. You didn’t see Bucky again for the rest of the night, which was good. By the early hours of the morning, everyone had left. You wandered around that empty ballroom like a ghost that night. For hours. Thinking, plotting. It was clear Bucky didn’t want this. And now neither did you. But your families had announced it. So what exactly could you do? 

By the time the sun rose, you had already written a note to your father and left it on his desk. By the time the sky brightened, your bags were packed and you were already driving out of the mansion grounds. And you knew that by the time your father would go into his office and find that note, you would already be on a plane, on your way out of here. 

You didn’t give too many details in the note. You simply said that you were leaving, not knowing when or if you’d be back. 

Truth was, you had no solid plans. All you knew was that you needed to get away from home. 

You didn’t know that when you’d return home – almost a decade later, so much would have changed. 

Your father was angry. Livid actually, that you’d been away for years without contact. You briefly explained why you needed to leave. And how you’d been able to make a name for yourself elsewhere. But after he was done berating you for what you did when you were twenty and stupid, he filled you in on all that you’d missed in the past decade almost. 

Some important points were: your family and Bucky were no longer allies, but were now each others’ worst rivals but no one knew that. The city was now secretly divided – your family ruled and controlled one side, and Bucky ruled the other. 

“It’s just him now?” You had asked, and your father nodded. 

“A lot happened after you left, actually–”

A loud noise cut him off. Rounds of bullets shot at the windows of the house, from all sides it seemed. And it was pure chaos. You could hear your guards fighting back, but even by just hearing the commotion you could tell you were severely outnumbered. 

But whoever it was, they weren’t shooting at anyone, just at windows – making enough noise to get your attention and to get you to come outside. 

You marched out of the room despite your father ordering you not to. And you were halfway down the grand stairs when he walked in and spotted you immediately with a smug look on his face. 

Bucky. Walked in like he owned the place. He stopped in the middle of the foyer, which was now ruined. Bits and pieces of concrete and glass all over the marble floor. Flower pots destroyed, the gilded mirror in pieces as well. He made a mess of the home you grew up in and you almost shot him right in the heart there and then. 

Here was the man who once broke your heart after making you think for years that maybe you had a chance. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hissed. You could hear your father coming to a stop on the landing several steps behind you. He was unprepared. You were armed with only one handgun tucked into your pocket. Your guards were outnumbered. This was a shitshow. 

The guards – his and yours – stopped firing and now just stood all over the place on high alert. And you knew, deep down in your gut you just knew something which you weren’t ready for was about to happen. 

“I see you’re finally home, princess.” Bucky just gave you a cold smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. The action drew your attention to one specific thing. The metal arm. You frowned at it in confusion, but didn’t react. 

But that word… ‘princess’ brought back memories which chased you out of this place. And it only fueled your anger. 

“What the fuck do you want?” 

He lifted his nose slightly in the air, like the arrogant prick he had always been. “I’m here to collect what I was promised.” His voice was strong and confident. “A bride. Now you have a choice, princess. Either we do this in peace and no one gets hurt, or…” 

He didn’t even have to finish his sentence because on cue, one of his guards sneakily appeared on the landing behind you, holding a gun to your father’s head. You froze for a moment. The look on your father’s face made everything so serious all of a sudden. You had to be extra careful here. 

“You wouldn’t.” 

He scoffed, “Wouldn’t I?” 

You argued, “It’s been almost a decade.” 

“I don’t care. We were supposed to marry each other–,” 

You cut him off, “Yes, and you didn’t want that, did you? I heard you on the phone that night.” You finally confessed. “By the pool. I remember every single word that came out of your fucking mouth. So don’t come here acting like you’re entitled to–,” 

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” He smirked, shaking his head. “Is that why you ran away? And didn’t come home for a decade? Because you spied on me that night and didn’t like what you heard?” 

That did it. One moment you were standing on the stairs, afraid that your father might get hurt and the next you had your gun out and shot right at his metal arm, knowing it wouldn’t hurt him but it would make him lower his guard for just a second. 

And that one second was enough to jump him and punch him right in the jaw. Fuck, it hurt but it also felt so damn good. All those years you’d been away, you were also training in your free time. And you knew you were good at combat. 

But so was he. A few punches in and he managed to throw you down on the floor and pin you to the ground with that same metal hand around your throat, keeping you in place. You didn’t know why his guards just stood and did nothing, as though they had been ordered not to shoot at anyone here. 

But you weren’t under any such orders, so you managed to land another punch to his jaw before he yelled, “Enough!” Right in your face. “Stop this shit, or I swear to–,” 

You cut him off by punching him again, trying to get free the moment you felt his metal hand get loose around your throat. He growled in annoyance and tightened his grip. 

“You’re like a wild fucking animal. Stop!” 

You gritted your teeth at the insult and scratched his face exactly like how a wild animal would. You tried everything, tried to punch him again, tried to scratch down his neck and arms which only tore his shirt instead of his skin. You went for yet another punch and only then did you feel another pair of arms – one of his guards – pulling your hands away from his face. You thrashed and tried your hardest to break free but you couldn’t and ended up biting your own lip rather badly in the process. 

“I fucking hate you, Bucky Barnes!” You hissed, defeated, and now with a bleeding, throbbing cut on your lip which matched his. 

Bucky kept his hand around your neck as he leaned in menacingly and whispered, “Hate me all you want, princess. But you will marry me. Right here. Right now.” 

And that’s how you found yourself kissing your husband, in the foyer of your father’s ruined mansion. With your helpless father, and the many guards as witnesses. 

You pulled away from the kiss, breathless and angrier than earlier. Jaws clenched, you were ready to tackle him to the ground again, maybe actually shoot him with your gun this time, but he spoke before you could say anything. 

“Let’s go.” He spoke, and like the loyal followers that they were, all of his guards silently walked out of your house. And Bucky grabbed your hand firmly in his and began pulling you out of the house as well. 

You resisted again. “Wait! You brute!” You pulled your hand away from his and ran back up the stairs to your father. “I ruined everything, I’m sorry.” 

He just hugged you and told you to be careful and be smart. And that he forgives you. You promised you’d come to see him soon. And then you left, refusing to take Bucky’s hand again as you walked out of your father’s house. 

You needed to think. You couldn’t fight him right now. Besides, it’s not like you married him legally. All Bucky wanted was to make a scene and you let him. For now. You’d need some time to come up with a plan and decide what needed to be done. But for now… 

“If you’re thinking about running away and disappearing for a decade again, you better stop. You’re not getting away this time. You hear me?” Bucky spoke, sitting next to you in the backseat of his car as the driver drove to his side of the city, to his house surely. That authoritative tone of his made you want to scratch his face again. 

“You seem to be under the impression that you’re in control here, Barnes. Just know, I could still shoot you right now if I wanted to.” You didn’t look at him, you looked out the window. At the city that had changed in your absence. 

“Ouch.” He faked his surprise. Then proceeded to put his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, leaning down he whispered into your ear, “That’s not a nice way of treating your new husband, now is it?” 

You gave him a fake smile, ignoring the way your brain thought he smelled delicious, and reached into your pocket to pull out your handgun. Placing the cold barrel right under his chin you said, “Try me, husband.” 

The driver cleared his throat in nervousness and you didn’t want to traumatise the man so you pulled your gun away but left it in Bucky’s line of sight. He pulled away then, pulling his hand away from your shoulders but placed his metal hand on your thigh. A possessive move. 

Yet that didn’t bother as much. But the metal hand? Where did that come from? What happened while you were gone? 

He answered your questions voluntarily. “Got caught in a crossfire. I got shot too many times, the arm was beyond saving. So I had the metal arm made. It’s a very intricate technology, but it works just fine.” He said, flexing the hand on your skin. 

You didn’t miss the hidden sexual connotation in that last part of his sentence. And you certainly couldn’t ignore the way your body responded to the cold, metal touch. It looked… badass. Not that you would ever tell him. 

You tried to look out the window again, but his touch on your thigh was more distracting than you wanted it to be. It was all you could focus on. Just to stop thinking about it you said, “I don’t have any of my things.” 

“It’s all been taken care of. Don’t worry.” He answered, looking down at his phone. Acting like he didn’t know his hand on your thigh was messing you up. 

Still you frowned at his answer, “What do you mean it’s been taken care of?” Then you paused and thought about it for a moment, “Did you–” You sighed, “You knew I was coming, didn’t you? Did you have people spying on me?” 

He shrugged, “You thought I would let my betrothed be out there in the world without keeping an eye on her?” He scoffed, looking up from his phone for a brief moment, “Of course I did. I know everything about you. I even know all about that secret, women-only army you created.” He added, “I was half expecting them to pop out of nowhere earlier at your father’s house.” 

You were in disbelief. This whole time you thought you’d hid well. But no. 

“Where are they anyway? Your girls?” He asked, and for once it didn’t sound like a taunt. It sounded like he was genuinely curious. 

“Probably out hunting and beheading men who think they can get away with forcing women into marrying them by threatening to kill their fathers.” You gave him another one of your fake smiles, “I’ve trained them well.” 

Bucky smiled back. “Well good. When they get here to try and free you, we could unite our forces. We’ll be untouchable then, you and I. I have the money and you have an army.” He winked. “Ultimate power couple.” 

“You won’t get away with this, Barnes.” 

He looked out of the window and said, “I just came to collect what was promised to be mine that night.” 

You argued, bitterly, “Oh we both know what happened that night.” 

“I do.” He said, “But do you? Do you really?” 

You remained quiet for a moment. This was the second time he questioned your knowledge of what truly happened that night. As if you hadn’t heard him loud and clear on that phone call. 

“You–,” 

He cut you off and looked out the window as he said, “We’re home.” 

It had been a long day. And you were running out of energy so instead of arguing some more, you just followed him out of the car and remained stunned for a moment as you looked at his house. It wasn’t his family home. This one seemed new. 

It was just as large as your father’s mansion, just a lot more contemporary compared to the more Georgian architecture-inspired one you grew up in. 

Bucky’s house sat on a sprawling green and pristine property. It was a perfect blend of sleek architecture and a glass house, which allowed the right amount of privacy but also allowed glimpses of the warm, farmhouse inspired interior. Even from outside you could tell it was homey and bright inside. 

Before you could get a word out, you felt his hands on you again. You tensed up and almost hit him again in defence but before you could, Bucky was carrying you bridal style – literally – and marching towards the large doors of his ridiculously pretty home. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You questioned, squirming just a little in the intimate embrace. 

“Traditions,” He said, looking down at you, “Can’t have you trip at the doorstep and risk bringing bad luck into our marriage.” 

You frowned at him, reluctantly wrapping your arms around his neck for support. “You say ‘our marriage’ like it’s gonna be a real thing. It won’t, Barnes. I’ll be out of here before you–,” 

He used you to push open the door and the warm interior of the home shut you up. For some reason you never imagined someone like Bucky would live in a house that actually looked like a home. You pictured him living in some villain’s lair. 

But this was… beautiful. 

You squirmed into his arms until he finally set you down carefully. You stood there for a minute, in the foyer, just looking around. Then you couldn’t help but say, “It would be a real pain if someone just started shooting at the windows of your house like a madman, wouldn’t it?” You waved your gun in front of his face. 

“I’ll send people over tomorrow morning to fix your father’s house.” 

“You don’t even sound apologetic.” You scoffed. 

“I’m not.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Was it necessary? To shoot at my house like that? You couldn’t just, I don’t know, ring the doorbell to get me to come outside? You absolutely had to be a child?” 

He smirked then said, “First of all, that isn’t your house anymore. This is where you live now, and you will call this your home. Second of all, why blame me when you acted just as childish when you decided to run away all those years ago? Third of all, I did it because, well, I do like some drama.” 

You couldn’t not believe him. “You amaze me with your stupidity, Barnes.” 

“You amaze me with your bratty attitude, Mrs. Barnes.” 

You stepped closer to him, slow and in a threatening manner. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

You sighed, “You know you’re still that little boy who used to bully everyone when we played as kids.” 

He clarified, “No, I bullied you because you were annoying. Everyone else was fine.” 

“I hate you.” You said with enough hostility you hoped it would shut him up. 

It didn’t. “Well, see.” He took your hand in his and said slowly as if talking you down, “That’s something we’ll work on together as a couple.” 

You pulled your hand away and were so tempted to just– 

“Come,” he said, “I’ll show you where our room is.” You began protesting immediately but he cut you off by saying, “Stop being fucking difficult. We’re married now, act like it.” 

“I want a separate room!” 

“No.” 

“I’m not sleeping with you!” 

“Then don’t. But you will sleep in my bed. Like my wife should.” 

“You’re a fucking animal!” You tried tugging your hand free from his grasp. 

Bucky had had enough. So he pinned you to the nearest surface, which happened to be the closed door of his bedroom. He grabbed both your wrists in his metal hand and pinned them above your head. His face was just inches away from yours, and he stared deep into your eyes. 

Your mind immediately went to that harsh kiss you’d shared earlier. And you hated how your body squirmed just as the thought of it. You refused to think about it any more, but his mouth was just so, so close. The cut on his lip, the slight stubble on his cheek and around his mouth, the texture of his skin, you were picking up on details you’d missed. 

Bucky spoke in a calm, deep voice which sent shivers down your spine. “Let’s be adults here, okay? You stop acting like a brat, and I’ll stop treating you like one.” He said, pressing his chest into yours. “It’s been a long day, and I know you’re running out of energy as well so stop resisting me. If I was an animal, I would’ve dragged you to bed right now and would’ve made you mine in every sense of the word.” He whispered, his voice cold and dangerous. “But I’m not. So you will walk into this room, and head straight for a warm shower and after you’re done we’re gonna clean these wounds. Am I clear?” 

You nodded quickly, like an idiot entranced by his gorgeous voice. 

“Use your words, princess. Am I clear?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. Let’s go.” 

— 

You leaned against the counter, wrapped in a fluffy robe and another towel wrapped around your wet hair, and Bucky was cleaning the cut on your lip. 

His wounds were all cleaned. It looked like he had used a different shower while you were in here. His long hair was damp and tied into a small bun, with strands of his dark hair falling on either side of his face. He had changed into a tight black t-shirt and PJ trousers. It was frustrating to look at him. Because he looked so damn good. 

Last time you’d seen him was when he was a twenty year old boy. He’d changed since. He seemed taller somehow. Or maybe it was just the muscles making him look bigger. 

You couldn’t look away from the metal arm. And the intricate details on it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asked, throwing the used cotton balls and napkins in the trash can. 

You didn’t miss the way he was being gentle all of a sudden. Calm voice, calm movement. Very different from the man who’d forced you to marry him just hours ago. 

“No.” You answered, turning around to look in the mirror. The bruise on your neck was very much visible now. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you again, you didn’t notice how close he got, not until he reached out and touched your neck with his warm fingers. 

And for the first time, he sounded genuine when he said, “I’m sorry. About that.” 

You met his eyes through the mirror and remained quiet for a moment. For a brief moment you thought back to that night. What if you hadn’t heard him on the phone? What if you had married him back then? Would this be a normal, daily thing? Sharing a bathroom, a bed? 

“I punched you. Multiple times. This makes us equal.” 

Bucky scoffed, then nodded. Then said, “Come to bed when you’re done.” And left you alone in the bathroom. 

Shit. You stared at yourself in the mirror. What a day. All you wanted was to pay your father a visit and maybe spend some days at home and then fly back to where you came from. Having your father’s house be attacked, getting married, and having to share a bedroom with the man who once broke your heart… yeah, all that wasn’t in the plan. 

You changed into some comfy PJs Bucky had brought you earlier and walked out into the bedroom. You found Bucky on his phone again, standing by the foot of the bed. 

“Which side do you sleep on?” He asked, not looking up from his phone. 

“Uh, right.” You answered, because for some reason now he felt the need to ask for your opinion. 

Bucky didn’t say a word as he moved to the left side of the bed and peeled back the covers before getting in. Like this was just another day. Like this was normal. You awkwardly walked to your side of the bed and just stood there for a moment. 

“Just get in bed. I won’t touch you.” 

He didn’t even look at you as he spoke and, well, the lack of attention from him bothered you. Oh what the hell. You pulled the covers and got under them. You curled onto your side, with your back facing him. 

Soon, you heard him click something and all the lights turned off. You sensed movement behind you but that was it. He didn’t touch you. In fact, there was so much distance between you two that your back felt cold. And now that annoyed you as well. 

You couldn’t sleep. 

An hour went by, you still couldn’t sleep. 

Another hour went by, and now you’d begun tossing and turning so much that you heard Bucky groaning. 

“Will you stop that?” 

“I can’t sleep.” You mumbled.

“Don’t make it my problem. Stop moving.” 

“Wow. Some husband you are.” 

Silence. Then you felt your body sliding across the bed as Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm chest. 

“What the–,” 

“Shh.” He cut you off, his warm breath tickling your cheek as he spooned you from behind. “It’s cold. We could both use the warmth. Now go to sleep.” 

You scoffed, but didn’t move. “Your fancy house doesn’t have a thermostat? Fix the temperature.” 

“I like this better.” 

“I better not find your hands wandering.” 

You moved around for a bit, finding a comfortable spot. Then you moved some more and Bucky tightened his arm around you and whispered into your ear, “Stop wiggling against my cock. I understand it’s our wedding night and all but I’m too tired to do anything.” 

Your face burned in embarrassment. You tried to put some distance between your bodies, even though you liked his body heat, but thankfully Bucky pulled you right back. 

“Did I say you can move?” He chided. 

“What now, I need your permission to get comfortable in bed?” 

“Brat.” 

“Asshole.” 

— 

You didn’t know when you fell asleep at night. But the heat from Bucky’s chest definitely helped. It must’ve been that. And in the middle of the night, you must’ve searched for more heat. That was probably the only reason why you woke up and found yourself sprawled all over him, face into the crook of his neck and both your hands under his shirt, legs tangled with his. 

“You call me an animal. But look at you. Touching me while I was sleeping.” He mumbled. “Shameless.” 

You pulled away so fast, but then regretted it. Because now you missed his warmth. You shivered even under the covers. “Would it kill you to keep your damn house a little warmer?” 

He just yawned and got out of bed. “Get ready.” He said, “We might have a guest coming over. And you have to be a good little wife and play host.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh you will.” He teased, “Soon.” Then he winked and walked out of the room. 

Well, he at least was giving you some privacy and let you have this bathroom all to yourself. Screw his and his mind games. First he barges into your house, forces you to marry him, then cuddles you to sleep. 

You caught yourself frowning multiple times while you showered, did some skin care, and found the closet on the other side of the room. You weren’t even surprised when you found a whole section filled with all you could need. All the shoes seemed like they would fit you, all the outfits as well. 

Nothing fazed you anymore. Not even the fact that your new husband might be a bit of a stalker. How else would he know your underwear size!? And there were drawers full of them. 

You tried not to worry too much as you got dressed. You were gonna get out of here soon anyway. 

Once dressed and ready for the day, you got downstairs and immediately heard Bucky’s voice, along with another voice. They were laughing over something. You found out where they were and approached the high-ceilinged, charming, farmhouse-inspired kitchen which blended with a spacious, cosy dining area. 

The other man had his back to you, but you knew that voice. Even though you hadn’t heard it in years. 

“Sam?” You couldn’t help but call out, lingering by the large doorway. Bucky remained leaning against the kitchen counter with a coffee mug in his hand, while Sam got up from where he sat at the breakfast counter. 

He turned around and his familiar, warm brown eyes met yours. He gave you a comforting smile. You, Sam, and Bucky all grew up together, along with some other kids from families similar to yours. And Sam had always been a sweetheart. You’d missed him. 

So you didn’t even hesitate to walk right into his arms once he opened them, wanting a hug. You squeezed him tight and said, “I thought I’d never see you again, Sammy!” 

Sam hugged you back just as tight, “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in almost a decade.” He pulled away to look down at you before giving you a loud kiss on the cheek. Safe to say, he was just as handsome as he was when you left this place. “How have you been?” 

You looked over Sam’s broad shoulder and found a broody Bucky. “I’ve been better.” 

Sam got really serious, and was about to say something but Bucky’s voice rumbled from behind. “That’s enough hugging and smooching. Sam, stop touching my wife.” 

“Ooh, your wife.” Sam teased, before letting go of you and letting you walk out of his arms. “First of all, why didn’t you tell me you two were planning to get married this whole time?” He asked Bucky in an accusatory tone. “My childhood friends got married and I wasn’t even invited.” 

Sam sat back down at the breakfast counter, so he didn’t see the questioning stare you sent Bucky. So Sam wasn’t aware of the circumstances under which you got married? Of course he didn’t. Nobody knew, and Bucky wasn’t about to tell anyone 

“It all happened so quickly, Sam.” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as you said, “Bucky was… impatient. Even my father didn’t have time to prepare much. It all just, you know, happened.” You spoke as you helped yourself to some breakfast, taking a seat at the table where you could see both men well. 

You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s jaws kept clenching and unclenching as you tiptoed the line between telling the truth and lying to Sam. 

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “I know how impatient he can be.” He glared at Bucky, who shook his head in disbelief. 

“I take it you two work together now?” You only asked because you remember how the parents would always talk about how wonderful it would be if these two boys worked together. Apparently they made a great team back then. 

“We do.” Bucky answered, placing his mug down before turning around and began chopping some things. 

“You see,” Sam began explaining in a playful tone. “After everything happened, Bucky was all along. Poor little princeling with no guidance and a kingdom to run.” You saw Bucky shaking his head at Sam’s words. Sam continued, “So I knew I had to step in and become his mentor. He wouldn’t have survived without me.” 

You made a mental note to ask about what ‘everything’ he was referring to, but couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie between them, despite it all. Sam had always been a good company. He was the sun rays filtering through dark clouds, and Bucky was the dark, gloomy day who needed the sun’s brightness. 

“Wouldn’t have survived.” Bucky muttered, mocking his friend. “You helped me train sometimes. You introduced me to people. That’s about it.” He clarified, bringing over a bowl of chopped fruit over to you and pushed it towards you without a word said. 

You liked fruits for breakfast. And you assumed he remembered. But he did it all too casually. As if he did it every day. You didn’t want to cause a scene so you accepted the bowl quietly. 

“That’s about it?” Sam shook his head, then turned to you. “I took care of him like a parent–,”

“No you didn’t. You–” 

“–and this is how he treats me. I should’ve let you bleed out from that bullet wound that one time. Maybe you wouldn’t be here disrespecting me then.” 

You chuckled, clearly on Sam’s team. Bucky didn’t like that. “What about my wife then? Who would be taking care of her?” 

“I would.” Sam answered without missing a beat. “We all know if not you then I was gonna marry her.” He turned to you, knowing damn well he was gonna get a reaction out of Bucky any time now. Sam lived to mess with Bucky after all. He always did, ever since you were all kids. “Wouldn’t you have married me if Bucky had died?” He asked you with that mischievous smile on his face. 

“I–,” 

“You answer that and you’ll never see Sam again.” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes at you, before you couldn’t get a word out of your mouth. 

Sam smirked triumphantly. 

You rolled your eyes at Bucky and looked right at Sam and said, “I would’ve married you in a heartbeat, Sammy.” 

Sam went to grab your hand, surely to bring it up to his lips for a kiss, but Bucky threw a napkin right at him before he could. 

“You touch my wife again and I swear–,” 

“Must you always threaten people?” You asked, glaring at Bucky. 

He glared back. And opened his mouth to say something but Sam cut him off. “Hey, hey, kids. No fighting.” He quickly changed the topic, “Now, since you have gotten married and no one was there, how about a party? To announce it to everyone? We could invite the whole city.” 

Party. Yeah right. The last time you attended an extravagant party you had your heart broken. Not just broken, but stepped onto and crushed to a pulp. 

You went to say no, “Maybe we shouldn’t–,” 

But Bucky declared, “Absolutely we should. After all, we waited almost a decade to marry each other.” He looked right at you as he said that. “It’s time everyone knows you’re finally mine.” 

“Perfect!” Sam began planning immediately. He had always been the life of all parties, and he loved them. 

While you occasionally answered his questions, you didn’t stop glaring at your husband while you finished your breakfast. There was something he was hiding. You were certain of it. But what? 

— 

A couple days later, it was finally the night of the party. 

The past few days had been more or less similar. You’d always wake up sprawled all over Bucky’s chest, and he always made a teasing comment about it. You’d have breakfast in silence, after which he’d disappear and then he’d come home in the evenings. You never talked while having dinner. 

The one time you did talk, it didn’t end well. 

You brought it up at dinner. “I tried to go out today. Your people followed me into the city.” 

“Our people.” He corrected. Bucky didn’t find anything wrong with that apparently because he simply said, “And they’re your security detail. They’ve been ordered to follow you.” 

“So I don’t escape?” 

“So you’re always safe.” 

“Oh come on. You can’t keep me here forever.” 

He shrugged, “You’re not being kept. This is your home, we’re married. This is where you live now.” 

You stood up from the table.You didn’t care that the housekeepers you’d been recently introduced to could hear. “And who are you to make that decision for me?” You asked, in a surprisingly calm tone. 

He replied in a similar tone. “Your husband.” 

You sighed, trying your hardest to keep it all contained. “I have a life, you know? A totally separate life I’ve been living since I left this place. I have to get back to it at some point. You proved your point. Now let me go.” 

He ignored all of that. “I’m working on transferring all your businesses and staff here.” He announced. “I’m buying a brand new building in the city, you can have it and set it up however you want. The only thing I can’t find is your secret army of highly trained soldiers.” 

“You’ll never find my girls.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“They’re trained to outrun men like you. All men, in fact.” You added, “I made sure of that. I made sure they’d never be used and moved around like pieces on a chessboard then discarded by people like you.” 

“Sounds like you speak from experience.” 

“Fuck you, Barnes.” You spat before walking away. 

You made sure to sleep on the very edge of the gigantic bed that night, as far away from him as possible. But in the morning, you still woke up snuggled into his chest, on his side of the bed, like you’d been trying to burrow under his skin seeking warmth at night. 

You didn’t speak after that. You made sure to ignore him. Each time you left the house, to go see your father or to just roam around the city you’d missed so much, you’d look in the rear view mirror and find big, bulky SUVs following you around. 

And here you were now, after days of silent treatment, you stood in front of the large mirror in the closet of your bedroom and watched your reflection. Of course the bastard had chosen an extravagant evening gown for you to wear which looked eerily similar to the one you wore that night for your birthday almost ten years ago. 

Except this one was much more elegant. And looked a lot like a wedding dress. With its simple square neckline, thin straps, fitted bodice and a majestic skirt. All white and sparkly. The last time you felt like a princess, the night ended terribly. So this time you were afraid to even let yourself appreciate the beautiful woman in the mirror who stared back at you. 

You kept fidgeting, with the skirt of the dress, watching it swish around. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you from behind. Not until he stood right behind you, his chest brushing against your slight exposed back. 

He looked… unreal in his all black suit. Shiny black tie and a small shiny pin. His hair was perfect as always, and his all black outfit really made his eyes seem bluer than ever. Or maybe it was the lights in this closet that did it. But it made you notice the lines by his eyes, which gave away just how much time had gone by. 

He was still that bad boy with tattoos whom you had a crush on, who made your race whenever he looked at you. Except now he was older, meaner. And your husband. Whom you hated. 

Did you? 

You tensed up when he placed a hand on your waist, right where the bodice and skirt were sewn together. You met his eyes through the mirror, but said nothing. You had no mean words to throw at him this time and neither did he. 

“You look beautiful.” He said, leaning in just a little to rest his cheek against your temple. 

You froze at the soft touch which drove you insane. You must be ovulating, you thought, because there was no way that mere touch was making your heart race like this for no other reason. You began breathing faster, that’s how fast your heart was racing. 

You almost leaned into his touch, ready to forget it all just for one moment of warmth. Of peace and quiet. Just one moment to appreciate that you looked beautiful and you had your husband’s attention and all was well. To appreciate that you two look great together. To stop fighting this weird alchemy between you two which kept drawing you to one another no matter what. But then you remembered. 

“Do I?” You asked, keeping your voice steady. “You sure I don’t look like a kid’s toy with this ridiculous dress on?” 

He remembered too, judging by the look on his face. He looked surprised, then briefly apologetic before settling on a familiar, broody frown. “What did I say about being a brat?” 

“I’ll stop being a brat when you stop being an asshole.” You scoffed. “You always were so… careless. With people. With everything. Always thinking you were above everyone else, ever since we were just kids.” You added, “I hate you.” 

He smirked, then grabbed your elbow and turned you around so he could look at you, or glare at you with his ocean blue eyes. “You didn’t hate me back then, did you?” He pushed you against the closest surface, which happened to be a wooden dresser. “You craved my attention back then. You used to find excuses to hold my hand when we were little. When we got older you used to hate it when I looked at other girls at school. Now look at you. You’re in my house, you sleep in my bed.” He leaned in, whispering in your ear, “You’re my wife. Then why do you keep resisting me, hmm?” 

“I was stupid back then. Wasted so much time trying to get your attention, and all I ever was to you was a whiny, bratty–,” You cut yourself off with a surprised gasp as you watched Bucky lower to his knees in front of you, his hands lifting the skirt of your dress. He was rough with it, crumpling it in his strong fists. “What are you doing?” You asked, shocked and surprised but not making a move to get away. “You– you’re ruining my dress.” 

He looked up at you, bunching some of the fabric near your waist and holding the front part of your dress up, pinning the bunched up skirt at your abdomen. As if he wanted to– 

Your entire face burned when you realised just how close and intimate this was. 

“I bought this dress. I’ll ruin it if I want to.” He spoke in that arrogant tone you weren’t sure you entirely hated at this moment. “You’re lucky I’m not tearing it off of you.” 

“And you’re lucky I’m not–,” 

He cut you off by leaning in and kissing your inner thigh. Just like that. As if you weren’t on the verge of arguing just now. You were still processing that soft kiss he left on your thigh, and he was already moving to spread your legs apart as he slowly looked up, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop or push him away. 

You didn’t. 

His eyes remained focused on your face as his hand reached out and he ran his metal knuckles between your legs, along your wet folds through your thin underwear, making you shudder at his mere touch. You flinched at the cold, but didn’t pull away. 

“You’re dripping.” He commented, slowly sliding down your underwear. “Does arguing with me turn you on, baby? Is that why you do it all the time?” He smirked, finally throwing your underwear to the side. 

You glared at him, opening your mouth to argue yet again but you ended up just letting out a soft moan as you felt his metal fingertips gently trail up and down your legs. He chuckled at how sensitive and responsive you were. Bucky placed a kiss on your inner thigh again and you gasped.

“Looks like you haven’t been taken care of in a while.” He said, moving his fingers over your clit, circling it slowly. “Have you?” He sounded like he was accusing you.

“No.” You hissed, angry at how much you didn’t mind his touch. “You barged in and married me before I could go out and find someone who might–,” 

“I tolerate you talking to and about Sam because he’s our friend.” He cut you off. “But if I hear you talking about any other man, I promise I will be committing unnecessary crimes and it’ll all be on you.” He paused, glaring at you. “You hear me?” 

You nodded. Fuck he looked good from up here. 

He held your stare as he leaned in and placed his mouth to your core, giving your clit a firm such before his warm tongue slipped past your folds and teased your dripping hole. One hand holding part of your dress up while the metal one worked in tandem with his tongue, circling your throbbing clit and parting your wet folds with ease. 

“Should’ve known you’d taste like fucking heaven,” He whispered, almost to himself. 

You couldn’t hold the moans and whimpers in, feeling his stubble rubbing against your soft skin, craving more of it. You couldn’t help but slide hesitant fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “Please, more…” You whined. 

That made him wild. And he ate you out relentlessly, taking his time and learning what worked for you and what didn’t, until your legs were shaking and your moans were louder. 

He slid his fingers, just a knuckle deep inside you and watched how much you loved that. “That feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” 

You only whimpered in response. 

When he was certain you were right on the edge, hips moving in a frantic way which made you grind against his fingers and tongue, only then did he pull away and let go of your dress before standing back up to face you with a condescending smirk. 

“You think it’s that easy?” He spoke, but you focused more on the wetness coating his lips rather than his words. 

You blinked a couple of times to break out of whatever spell he’d just put you under using that damned mouth and fingers of his. He’d… he’d dared bring you right to the edge. But hadn’t let you come. 

You were breathing heavily, feeling hot and tingly all over. 

He chuckled, enjoying the speechlessness which was rare when it came to you. “If you want more, then behave tonight. Be good and tell everyone how in love we are and all the nice things, and I promise I’ll take care of you later tonight. Okay?“

You knew what he was doing. He wanted you to tell as many people as possible because the more people knew, the harder it would be for you to sneak out of this place again. 

He didn’t even wait for a response. He just licked his lips clean, shamelessly holding your stare while he did. Then turned to the mirror and fixed his suit before bending down to pick up your discarded underwear. You looked away, embarrassed but waiting for him to hand it to you. 

Except he didn’t. He pocketed it like it was nothing and said, “Come on, our guests are waiting.” Then he walked out of the room like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t made you almost lose your mind just minutes ago. Like he didn’t have his tongue and fingers inside you. Like he hadn’t gotten so close to making you come. 

Like your heart wasn’t still racing even after he’d left the room. 

Eventually, you calmed down. Fixed your makeup, hair and dress again before heading towards the temporary, clear outdoor party tent Sam had people install in Bucky’s huge backyard. The closer you got, the more it looked straight out of a fairytale. Given the clear walls, you could see the golden lights and decor inside. 

The chandeliers, the floral arrangements, the tables and the dance floor where people danced with their partners. 

Speaking of partners, there by the entrance stood a tall, dark figure. Your husband. 

“Took you a while.” He muttered once you got close enough to him. 

You stopped by his side and sighed. Then answered in a monotone voice, trying to hide how bothered you were. “Well, some conceited asshole left me to deal with a mess he made so there’s that.” 

Bucky snickered. “Don’t act so indifferent. You were dripping all over my tongue and hand just minutes ago.” 

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not taboo for a husband to take care of his wife, you know?” He sounded just as annoying as you expected he would. 

You looked down and noticed he had his elbow extended out for you to take. You took it and spoke once you two began walking into the venue. “If you think you are getting anywhere near me to take care of me again, husband, you are dead fucking wrong.” You put a fake smile on as people began noticing your arrival and flocked to you. 

Bucky whispered one last thing into your ear before he left you in the care of the excited, curious, and loud group of ladies coming your way, “Oh you’ll beg me to touch you soon enough, wife.” 

Then he was gone again. Leaving you right on that edge again. 

Damn him! 

—

You had to give it to Sam, he knew how to organise a party. The decor, the food, the music, the performances, all of it was perfect. 

He even re-introduced to all the people you might have forgotten while you were gone. And naturally everyone had questions. You repeated the same answers to them all. The same lies. 

Where were you this whole time? You wanted to do your own thing, and make your own name so you decided to get away from home. 

Why did you leave right after it was announced that you were to marry Bucky Barnes? Oh your father never said when you were to marry him. He just said you would. Besides, both you and Bucky were too young to marry back then. 

Did Bucky know you were going to be gone? Of course he did! You two were childhood sweethearts after all. Yes, you did keep in touch this whole time and only fell more and more in love. Yes, distance does make the heart grow fonder and all. 

Why did the wedding happen so suddenly and in secret? After almost a decade of being far apart from each other, you two could no longer wait anymore. So you eloped the day you came back. 

There are rumours that your father and Bucky have some kind of tension going on between them, is any of it true? That was the one question you didn’t feel too confident about. Because your father never ended up telling you why that was. How did the rivalry start? You lied and said, it’s just because you eloped. Your father wanted to be involved but you were too in love to think straight. So now your father was giving your poor husband a hard time for stealing his little girl. 

As you paraded around and met everyone, you could feel Bucky’s eyes on you at all times. You didn’t have to look to know. You could feel the burning sensation along your back and you just knew he was watching you. 

And he watched all night. Up until the moment people began leaving and you had no choice but to find him again, not knowing what else to do. 

“You lie very well.” He commented, holding his elbow out for you to take again. 

You did. And also leaned into him a little because you had been standing for too many hours. You decided to ignore the hostility for just a minute. “Yes, I’m a natural.” 

“Everyone bought your bullshit about how we are childhood sweethearts turned lovers.” He whispered, turning his head to face you. 

“Well, you did say to make it believable.” 

“Oh it is.” He boasted, “Especially since you’ve been looking at me like that the whole night.” 

You rolled your eyes, “How?” 

“With longing, and desire. You’re all hot and bothered. You crave my tongue back on that throbbing little clit, don’t you?” 

“You’re delusional, Barnes.” 

“And you’re dripping wet for me, Mrs. Barnes.” 

— 

The party ended, and after Sam left you and Bucky made your way back inside the house. Sam, being the angel that he was, had made sure a clean up crew would be here early the next morning so you had nothing to worry about. 

Not that it should bother you whether or not Bucky’s house is tidy. 

You had a faint smile on your face as you went about your nighttime routine. Shower, skin care, a quick snack in the kitchen. And while you were downstairs, searching the pantry for something sweet, you saw Bucky near the thermostat. 

The pantry hid you well, so Bucky didn’t see you. But you watched him mess with the temperature. You squinted and realised he was lowering it. The damned bastard was making it colder! No wonder you were freezing each night and woke up each morning snuggled up to him, basking in his warmth. 

This asshole. 

You remained in hiding until Bucky left, and this time as you made your way upstairs you vowed you wouldn’t reach for his warmth. No matter how cold it got. And he wouldn’t get to use you as a personal heated blanket either. Let him freeze. 

You barely lasted thirty minutes under the covers. 

And he was quiet and didn’t move so you thought he was asleep already as you carefully scooted a little bit closer, trying to feel where he was in the dark. If only this bed wasn’t so damn big. You patted around, trying not to move to much as you– 

“I can hear you, you know? If you want to cuddle, just say it.” 

You stopped moving immediately. “Shut up.” You muttered, frowning at him even though he couldn’t see it. You could see his faint silhouette in the dark, so you knew when he turned on his side to face you. 

“What is it, wife? You need some warmth on this cold, cold night?” He asked in that mocking tone of his. 

“No.” You answered, lying. Because yes you did. 

He muttered ‘stubborn brat’ under his breath and then grabbed you and pulled you close until your back was completely pressed against his chest. His warm, comfy chest. You bit back a sigh of relief once you felt his body heating wrapping you in a cocoon. 

“I saw you messing with the thermostat.” You admitted. 

“Oh?”

“Yes. You make it cold on purpose.” 

“Oh no.” He mocked. “ Why didn’t you fix it then?” He asked, and it hit you how childish this was. He leaned in just enough so that his lips brushed against your cheek when he spoke. “Could it be that you like cuddling with me?” 

“Shut up.” 

He scoffed, finally wrapping his arms around you, but you hissed upon feeling his metal arm on your body.  

“It’s cold.” 

“Warm it up for me then.” 

“What–” 

You stopped talking the moment Bucky grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on top of his, spreading your legs to make room for his hand as you both remained on your sides, with him spooning you from behind. 

His metal hand found itself sliding into your shorts, past your underwear and he cupped you with such confidence and authority that you couldn’t help leaning into and grinding into his touch. His other hand slid under your pillow and down so he could grab and give your breast a firm squeeze. 

Fuck. His hands felt like they were touching you everywhere. 

“I told you I’d take care of you if you behaved.” He whispered into your ear. “Time for a little reward, wife.” 

He slid two fingers inside you, you gasped at the feeling of him being knuckles deep inside you. You whined as he stretched you a little, moving his fingers around until your hips were moving on their own, trying to get him to move some more. 

He chuckled. “That feels good?” He murmured into your ear. 

His voice, his warmth, the softness of his embrace, the unhurried way his fingers were moving in and out of you, sliding over your clit and stroking your walls like he had all the time in the world. 

Your hands wrapped around his metal wrist, keeping his hand in place as you rode his fingers the way you wanted. Hips moving forward and causing his fingers to slide in and out, while you moaned and whimpered. 

His lips brushed against your cheek over and over again as he whispered against your skin, “See how nice it is when you behave? Hmm? You can have me whenever you want, baby. Just be good for me, and I’ll do anything for you.” 

The animosity between you was forgotten at this moment. Here, in this dark room the past didn’t matter for a few minutes. Nothing mattered, just that you wanted something and he was giving it to you. 

His thumb caressed your clit, teasing it a little more until you cried out, “Bucky, please…” 

He froze. You did too. Then he chuckled and said, “So all is takes is a little finger fucking and now you have manners and you call me by my name?” He sounded just as annoyingly playful as you knew he would. 

“Oh fuck you!” You spat, then immediately let out a loud moan as he sped up and really fucked you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess. “Please, please, please…” 

“What did I say, huh?” He hissed. “Keep acting like a fucking brat and you’ll be treated like one.” He kept his fingers moving in and out of you. “I planned on really taking care of you tonight, but you know what? This is all you’re gonna get.” 

Your moans and whimpers got louder and louder until you began clenching around his fingers, coming undone with a loud cry of his name. Body shaking and your hips grinding down on his hand as you savoured the last moments of your orgasm before he pulled out and pulled away from you. 

You thought he’d go right back to sleep but then you felt him get out of bed. “Where are you–,” 

“I’ll fix the temperature.” He mumbled, sounding annoyed. Rightfully so. “Go to sleep.” 

And that was the last you heard or saw of him until the morning because you passed out right after. You didn’t even know if he returned to bed or not. Not that you cared much. 

Right? 

— 

Things changed after that night. 

A lot changed actually. Bucky had, miraculously, managed to uproot ten years of your life from elsewhere and planted it right here in the city. He took you to the building he’d been getting ready for you and it sure was something. You didn’t know what you expected but a brand new skyscraper was not what you had in mind. 

The day he handed over papers and keys and gave you a tour of the huge building was the first time you felt a shift in this… bond you shared with him. 

“Thank you.” You simply said as you both stepped into the shiny elevator so he could take you all the up to the top floor, to show you to your new office. 

Bucky slid his hands in his pockets and turned to face you. “You think being nice equals sexual favours from me, wife?” 

You could’ve told him to shut it. Or told him to go get fucked. But he was trying to be good to you, wasn’t he? Even after all he did, he wanted you next to him for some unknown reason and frankly you were tired of resisting. Your entire life was here now anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to… try. Would it? 

So instead you answered with, “Doesn’t it?” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, searching for the catch. He didn’t find any so he said, “We’ll see about that.” 

And that night he followed you into the shower and kissed you hard under the falling water. “I see you behaved yourself today.” He whispered against your mouth. 

You pulled him closer by grabbing his neck and said, “Do I get a reward then?” 

He didn’t say anything, just kissed you hard again and walked the two of you backwards until your back collided with the cold clear glass of the shower cubicle. Then he pulled away, looked down into your eyes. His own filled with lust and hunger as he asked, “You’re gonna let me fuck you?” 

You nodded quickly before saying, “Yes. Please.” 

He didn’t waste a single moment. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it to his hip, spreading you open. He kissed you senseless again while he pushed inside of you. You moaned into the kiss as he filled you up, his cock stretching you out, making you whine and whimper as he slow fucked you. 

“Fuck…” He breathily moaned against your open mouth while he moved against you. Pushing deeper, in and out of you until your moans and whimpers got louder and louder. The sound of the water falling from the shower drowned out most of it, so he fucked you until you moaned loud enough that he could hear you over the falling water. 

“Please,” You cried out. Weeks of frustration wanting to be let out. “Please, Buck…” Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, and you held on while he fucked you. 

Bucky almost froze again at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips. But he maintained his composure and sped up into you, feeling your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock. 

“You’ve been good today,” He said, noticing the way you clenched around him hard at the sound of praise. “You didn’t talk back, not once. Is it because you wanted this cock, baby?” 

You whined in response. Feeling his damp skin rubbing against yours, and for a brief moment you wanted to live in this moment forever. 

“Oh, poor baby.” He gave you a messy, heated kiss then said, “It’s all yours, you know? You just have to ask nicely. And you can have it whenever you want.” 

“Please…” You begged again, your pride nowhere in sight. “Please, Bucky.” 

“Come for me, baby…” He breathed against your skin. His hands held you in place as he pounded into you. “Come for me.” 

You did, moaning so loud it was all he heard as he came right after you. 

— 

It became a daily thing over the next few weeks. You’d seek Bucky out at random times during the day or more often right when he’d get into bed at night. 

“Were you good today, wife?” He asked, his hands already moving all over you trying to undress you as fast as he could. 

“Yes,” You breathed into his ear, your hands touching him all over his tattooed chest. “I even made you breakfast, remember?” 

“Those burnt pancakes count?” 

You shut him up by kissing him, pulling him down onto the bed and straddling him, then proceeded to ride him until you were both moaning and spent, too tired to move. 

—

Things got… playful. 

Oftentimes you’d catch yourself wondering why you weren’t actively working to get out of here. But your whole life was here now. Work, your family, and your husband. You didn’t hate Bucky as much as you thought you would. Just a few months ago you wanted to kill him on sight but now… 

“I saw the new building you work at. He bought you that?” Your father asked one morning when you went over to join him for breakfast. 

You cleared your throat and answered, “He did. He moved everything here. My businesses, my staff, all of it.” 

“And the girls?” He asked, referring to the infamous, feared, and fierce army you had raised and trained over the last ten years. 

“My girls are free to go wherever they want to.” You let pride fill you as you thought of them. “Besides, they don’t have to be here for me to know I can always count on them. They’re just a phone call away.” You explained. “Plus they have work to do. People to save, women to recruit. You know, the usual.” 

“I’m proud of you, you know?” 

You smiled at your father. Then a few moments passed and you couldn’t help but ask, “What happened after I left? Where is the rest of Bucky’s family?” 

Your father looked surprised. “He didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

Your father shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. They’re all gone anyway. Plus the boy, he… he treats you right, doesn’t he?” 

You nodded. Then left it at that. You wanted a peaceful morning with your father, you didn’t want to ruin it by insisting he tell you about whatever it was that he wanted to keep in the past. 

—

But it bothered you, knowing that something happened while you were gone that you knew nothing about and everyone refused to tell you about it. 

All except one man. Your beloved friend, Sam. 

He showed up one morning, demanding to see Bucky. 

“He said he has an important phone call to attend to. With someone named Steve. He’s been outside for over an hour now,” You explained to Sam, who stood at the foyer looking disappointed, “It looks like he’ll be out for quite some time.” 

Sam frowned, and sighed. “He said to come over for a round of golf.” He sounded like he’d been betrayed. “Ever since he started doing business and being friendly with that Steve guy,” Sam complained, “That bitch has been trying to steal my best friend.” 

You chuckled and grabbed his hand to lead him further into the house. “I’m sorry my husband ruined your playdate, Sammy. But you can hang out with me.” 

Sam reluctantly agreed only after you promised to make him blueberry muffins. He liked those ever since you were kids. 

He agreed to help, and you both had a nice, comfortable conversation going while you worked. You caught yourself shaking your head a few times thinking about how just a few months ago if someone had told you you’d be in Bucky’s kitchen making muffins you wouldn’t believe it. 

But here you were now. 

Then Sam casually said, “I’m glad you two worked it out, you know? You’re so perfect for each other. Even back when we were kids, remember how everyone used to tease you two and say you would surely marry one another?” He laughed. “I mean after he told me all about how you heard him on the phone with me by the pool, I was worried you might never clear up the misunderstanding.” He chuckled, keeping his eyes down as he lined the muffin tin so didn’t see the way you froze. Sam continued, “I thought that’s why you left when I heard about your sudden disappearance. But–”

You cut him off, heart racing as memories of that night came flooding back in. “Sam… what do you mean on the phone with you?” 

Sam looked up, frowning. “That night of your twentieth birthday. Remember how you found Bucky by the pool? He was on the phone with me that night. He was so angry when he told me what his family was planning to do to yours, how they were going to–,” Sam cut himself off as the realisation set in. “Did he not tell you the truth?” 

Your heart pounded. Something was wrong. 

“Tell me what truth?” 

Sam’s eyes softened. “Oh, I shouldn’t be the one to–,”

“Sammy, please.” You begged in a whisper. “Even my father refuses to tell me anything. I have the right to know. What happened?” 

Sam tried his hardest to make sense as he told you everything in a rush. “Look, something went wrong back then. Bucky’s family began siding with the rivals and they were trying to take your father down. They tricked your dad into thinking that getting you and Bucky married would be a good idea and well, your father chose to believe his friends so he made that announcement at the party.” Sam sighed, “But Bucky’s family were planning something really bad. They were going to use the wedding as an excuse to gather all your family in one place and… end all of you. Just so they’d be able to expand their territory. Bucky found out about this plan and he was pissed. So that night, he called me. To vent.” 

You felt your eyes begin to water. 

Sam continued. “But then you found him. I remember him whispering to me that you were doing a terrible job at hiding behind a plant or some shit. Then your huge gown gave away your hiding spot. But given you were listening, Bucky decided he’d get you annoyed enough to have you at least try to call off the wedding which would buy us some time to figure out what to do. That’s when he began saying those things about you. Trying his hardest to sound like he truly did not want to marry you.” Sam sighed, “I mean there might have been a better way of doing it rather than fake dialogues on a phone call, but we were twenty year old boys. We didn’t know better. We didn’t know you’d write that note and just disappear.” 

What the actual fuck. 

“Sam…” You whispered in disbelief. 

He shook his head. “Please tell me you didn’t truly believe all that. He lied when he said those things that night, you know? Bucky liked you ever since we were kids. You don't remember how he used to get mad at me whenever I was around you for too long? How he always ignored your hiding spots when we played just so you’d win at hide-and-seek? You don’t remember how he used to bully your stupid boyfriends as we got a older?” 

You couldn’t believe any of this. But Sam would never lie to you. 

“Wait,” Sam put the pieces together. “So you didn’t know about any of this?” 

You closed your eyes and sighed, “I didn’t. I heard all the things he said that night and… I had spent my entire life loving him and I thought…” You sighed. “I was young and stupid and heartbroken so I just left.” Then you explained. “I got back recently, Bucky made this whole show of raining down bullets at my father’s house and, well, we kinda got married that same day, in my father’s destroyed foyer.” 

“You didn’t talk to each other this whole time?” Sam was in disbelief. “Oh for fuck’s sake. And I thought Bucky just never mentioned you while you’ve been gone because… well, he’s not exactly good at the whole heart to heart thing. He’s Bucky.” 

Your surprise morphed into anger really quickly. “I need to find my husband.” You said, quickly walking out of the kitchen. 

Sam yelled behind you, “I'm gonna take this muffin batter and go before he shoots me after he finds out I told you all this!” 

You just yelled back, “Bye Sammy, I love you”

Sam’s voice sounded distant as he yelled back, “Don’t let him hear you!” 

You ran out to the back, where Bucky said he would be. And you found him by the pool. Again. The sight of him standing there gave you déjà-vu. Except he wasn’t your twenty-year old crush, in a black suit, arguing with who turned out to be Sam, on the night of your birthday anymore. 

He was older now, your husband, wearing dark trousers and a loose white-button up shirt, standing by the pool with the sun setting behind him. You stood on the patio, for a second more, admiring him. The metal hand casually shoved in his pocket and his heavily tattooed arm held a phone to his ear. 

You called out, no longer containing your anger. “You absolute piece of shit!” 

Bucky looked towards you and just frowned, before rolling his eyes. Then said on the phone, “Hang on a minute, Steve. My wife’s angry at me again.” He lowered the phone to his chest and whispered to you, “What is it this time?” 

“How long were you going to keep the truth from me?” You accused him. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

He raised the phone to his ear again and said, “I’ll call you later Steve, something came up.” Then he hung up, tossed his phone onto one of the lounge chairs before turning to face you again. “Don’t get mad–”

“Stop telling me what to do!” 

He sighed. “Did Sam tell you anything? I saw his car coming in earlier.” 

You hissed, “Oh leave him alone! He’s a good man who doesn’t lie to me!” 

Bucky shook his head, understanding that you knew all about what he’d been hiding, and too calmly said, “They were gonna kill you. All of you. Not just your family members, but the guards, the family friends, the members of your family who aren’t even in this life – all of you. I had to do something. My folks were wrong, I couldn’t let innocent people die just because my family got too power hungry.” 

You took a step forward, “Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would’ve talked to someone.” 

“We barely even talked to each other as we got older. I thought you wouldn’t believe me.” 

“But you could’ve at least tried to say something!” 

He was quiet for a moment. Then said, “I came to see you the next day.” He confessed. “The morning after the party. But your father had found your note and you’d already left. You never mentioned exactly why you left in the note, so I let him think it was because of me.” He explained, “Since there would be no wedding I didn’t have to worry anymore. But the threat remained. So I goaded your father into a fight. He took the bait and tried to shoot at me. He missed, of course. But enough people heard about it so he ended up declaring war against my family.” 

He paused. You listened quietly. 

“No one knew it was all because of me. But at least from then on, your father was more cautious. And he began hating my folks. And they couldn’t keep pretending to be his friend for much longer either. All the truth began spilling out. Soon the city was divided and the attacks began. Allies became enemies, just like that.” 

You were quiet. Processing everything. All of that shit happened and you were not aware. 

For some reason, you asked, “During those attacks… Is that when you lost your arm?”

You only realised you’d been stepping closer and closer to him when he raised said metal arm and touched your cheek gently. He smiled and said, “No, baby. That was a different time.” 

You had a tear sliding down your face. He wiped it away. “What happened then?” You asked. 

“My folks didn’t stand a chance. Your father was not only angry and betrayed, but he was also sad that he lost you because of them, or me.” Bucky explained. “It got… really bad. Your father lost a lot of his guys. Then he got angrier. So he stopped responding to the petty attacks and came after my folks directly.” 

“He killed them?” They were his friends once. 

Bucky said, “He still doesn’t know I helped him all the way until the end.” 

“But he spared you.” 

Bucky smirked. “He just could never catch me.” 

“But your family…” Bucky went against his own you realised. 

“They were bad people. Not just because of what they planned to do to you but…” He sighed. “They were doing bad things in the background. Dealing in substances, and people.” He spared you the gory details. 

But you understood.  

“Why didn’t you tell me all this that day we got married?” 

“You wouldn’t have believed me. You had just spent ten years hating me.” He shrugged. “But hey, it kept you safe.” 

You stepped closer to him, feeling tired with all that you felt inside you. “So you never meant the things you said that night?” 

Bucky pulled you close, cupping your face in his hands. “I have loved you my entire life. I never stopped.” 

You sniffled, looking up into his pretty eyes. “We lost so much time. I spent years hating you for nothing.” It hurt thinking about it. 

He smiled at you, “I should’ve thought it through better. But I was young and rash, and my family threatened to kill the girl I loved. I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away.” He sighed. “I just didn’t think I was going to lose you for almost a decade. I was always aware of where you were and what you did in life in those years. I was so proud of everything you did, the name you made for yourself. But I couldn’t reach you. You were angry and you hated me. So I waited. And then you came back and… I needed you with me. I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer.” 

You wrapped your arms around him, shoving your face into the crook of his neck as you let the tears fall quietly. 

“Shh,” He whispered, running a comforting hand down your back. “It’s okay now, I’m here. We’re okay.” 

“I’ve been mean to you.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

He chuckled quietly, “And I shot at your father’s house. We’re equal.” 

“I… I love you too, you know?” You sniffled. 

Bucky pulled away so he could look down at your teary face. “Sorry to say this, wife, but this isn’t half as romantic as the first time you told me you loved me.” 

You frowned. “What?” Did you talk in your sleep? Oh no. Did you? “When did I say it?” 

“We were seven, playing in the hedge maze in your father’s backyard.” He smiled, thinking about that day. “He had just had a new water fountain placed in there, and you wanted to show it to me. You must have thought it was pretty and that I needed to see it too. Then you dragged me all the way there and told me you loved me.” He smirked, “Seven-year old you would be disappointed in you right now.” 

A chuckle escaped your lips at the faded memory. “I wish we could go back in time.” 

“Well, we can’t. But we can have the rest of our lives together.” 

You sniffled again, wiped your tears. Then nodded, and leaned in for a kiss. Deepening it the moment he kissed you back. Your fingers found their way into his longish hair and you gently tugged at his roots. 

He smiled into the kiss when you whispered against his lips, “I like you with long hair.” 

“I see you’re being nice again,” He murmured in between kisses, “Does my wife need something?” 

You giggled this time. “I want you, Buck. Just you.” 

“You have me.” He said. “Always.”

[plethorawrites]

hey! what about clark who always makes you ride him because he’s afraid that with him on top he might hurt you cause he’ll lose control of his powers?

Oookkayyy. I believe I'm veering into some very precarious territory, lmao. But, yess, I do have thoughts! (NSFW content)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Despite the fact that Clark Kent was 6'3 (while slouching), 225 pounds, and otherwise incredibly built, he was perhaps the least physically intimidating person alive. In fact, he was practically terrified of his own features—the same ones that made you utterly melt.

It wasn't until you discovered his identity as Superman that you realized the reason his hands never actually touched you during hugs, and he preferred you holding his arm over holding hands with each other. He was afraid. He always had been, in a way, but it was usually manageable.

That was because he wasn't trying to pursue a relationship.

You were affectionate, craving attention in whatever form possible, from cuddling on the couch to just grazing his pinky with yours while at lunch. And you wished he would return it more than he did. He wanted to. He really did. It was just so damn hard when he was terrified to hurt you. He'd never forgive himself if he did something that harmed you in any way.

The more physical your relationship became, the harder it became to reduce contact to the minimum amount he could get away with. You wanted more and so did he. But he could crush you without even meaning to, break your bones by just holding your hips, maybe even something worse than both of those things.

No, if you needed intimacy, he would gladly give it to you, since he wanted it just as badly, but he'd refrain from doing anything that could cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort or harm. You, being on top, was the only sensible answer.

Not to mention, incredibly attractive.

You always were, but there was something about the angle, about him just laying there, staring at you, watching you get lost in your own euphoria that drove him insane. The way your hair kept falling into your face, your fingernails kept digging further into the skin of his shoulders or chest, how your eyes sparkled brighter than usual.

To say nothing of how you actually felt, your hips soft against his bare skin with every slight roll you made, grinding against him slowly to prolong your time together as long as possible.

He could barely handle your usual smile, but the one you were giving him right now, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress a little huff of laughter made his heart clench.

"What?" He wondered, his breathing a bit heavy. He was doing a terrible job of keeping his composure and was pretty sure you could tell.

You shook your head, your hands planted firmly on his chest while admiring the way his head always tilted when he was curious. "Nothing," you mumbled, the word taking a little while to find since you had to focus enough to remember how to speak. "You just..." Your lips pursed as one especially long drag of your hips made your breath hitch. "... You're like a pillow prince." You teased a moment later.

Clark's mouth dropped a little, in surprise but not offense. You weren't exactly wrong. He was laying there, his hands behind his head, watching you do all the work, like always. But it wasn't because he wanted to. In fact, he was itching to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his hands and it was taking all his restraint not to flip you over. He just couldn't risk it.

"Maybe I just like the view," he replied, his hips jerking up slightly when he felt you clench around him. His jaw tightened at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he reveled in the feeling for a moment. "You—" he swallowed, his eyes opening. "—are you so perfect on top of me."

Another bashful smile spread across your face as you dropped your head and resisted the urge to move your hair, afraid that if he moved his hands, he'd lose control entirely.

"You like watching me struggle," you muttered, your hands moving to his shoulders to grip them tightly, your movements slowing to a stop, trying to catch your breath. "Admit it..." You panted. "... you're a sadist."

He laughed, his body shaking under you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he assured you. "You're doing good for me."

You hummed slightly at the praise, closing your eyes for a moment. "It's exhausting," you admitted, your legs killing you despite the enjoyment. "Always so... difficult."

"I know," he responded sympathetically, hesitantly removing his hands from behind your back, hovering them over your thighs for a while, contemplating before carefully setting his hands on them. He just couldn't resist anymore. You were too damn tempting.

You moved your hands to cover his, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You gonna help me, for once?" You murmur, trying to joke but failing. The words came out with too much lust for that.

He nodded slightly, focusing on making sure his fingers didn't accidentally dig into your skin too hard. "Tell me," he said seriously, staring into your eyes. "The second I take it too far."

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him. "You're not going to hurt me," you whispered. "I trust you."