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snowysosturn · 3 days ago

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Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 12

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension, arguments, mentions of alcohol, being intoxicated

I sat cross legged at the small vanity in my room, blending out the last bit of highlighter on my cheekbones. My outfit I had planned to wear was already laid out on the bed behind me, ready for the evening ahead. My hair was half done, still tied back loosely as I finished off my makeup. It felt nice to have a little time to myself to unwind and prepare, especially after the long day of travelling.

I was in the middle of putting eyeliner in my waterline when I heard a knock at the door. "Come in" I called out, not looking away from the mirror as I focused on not poking my eye.

The door creaked open, and I glanced at the reflection to see Matt stepping in, a glass in his hand. "Vodka lemonade" he said, his voice still carrying the unmistakable slur of someone who had had a little too much to drink.

I turned fully to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You remembered what I drink?"

He shrugged, his grin lopsided but genuine. "Of course. Hard to forget when its the only thing you drink"

I rolled my eyes, taking the glass from him. "Thanks, I guess" I said, swirling the liquid before taking a sip. The moment it hit my tongue, I winced, coughing slightly. "Oh my god Matt! All I can taste is vodka!"

He laughed, leaning against the doorframe like it was holding him upright. "Yeah well, you’ve got some catching up to do. Consider it motivation."

I shook my head, setting the glass down on the vanity. "It’s almost like you’re trying to kill me" I teased, but there wasn’t any bite to my words.

He gave me a wink, nearly stumbling in the process, and we both laughed. For a moment, it was like we never hated each other. It was weird. Today, we’d actually been nice to each other. From the plane to downstairs to now, it was almost like we’d turned a corner. Or maybe the alcohol had simply dulled his usual sarcasm.

Matt straightened up and glanced around my room, his eyes landing on the green crochet outfit on the bed. "That what you’re wearing tonight?" he asked, nodding toward it.

"Yep" I said, turning back to the mirror to finish my eye makeup. "I’m just hoping it comes to get the way I have it in my head."

"Bet it’ll look good" he said, his tone softer than I expected. When I glanced back at him, he was already heading out the door. "Hurry up though. Dinner waits for no one, especially when you’re as drunk as I am."

"I’ll be down soon" I replied, watching as he gave me a lazy wave and disappeared into the hallway. After Matt left my room, I set the vodka lemonade on the dresser, deciding to pace myself as I continued getting ready. As I stood back to admire the final look, I adjusted my halterneck top, making sure everything sat just right.

I slipped on my nude heels, grabbed a small clutch, and downed half of the vodka lemonade Matt had brought up. The burn of vodka was strong, but he wasn’t wrong, I did have catching up to do if I wanted to match their buzz. By the time I walked down to the foyer, everyone was gathered there.

“You took long enough” Nick teased with a grin as I joined them.

“Beauty takes time, Nicholas” I shot back, earning a laugh from the group.

We stepped out of the villa together, the warm evening breeze carrying the faint scent of sea salt. The walk to the restaurant wasn’t far, but navigating the uneven path in heels was proving to be a challenge. After a few steps, I stumbled slightly on a dip in the road.

“You alright?” Matt asked, catching up to me.

“Yeah, these heels and this road aren’t exactly the best of friends, a bit like us” I muttered, half laughing at myself.

Without saying a word, he offered his arm. I hesitated for a moment before looping my hand through it.

“Don’t make it weird” he said, smirking down at me.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it” I replied with a sarcastic smile, though I appreciated the gesture.

We arrived at the restaurant, a cozy spot with string lights draped across the patio. As we approached our reserved table, I heard Nick let out a quiet yell.

“What are you guys doing here?!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and excitement.

I looked up to see a couple seated at our table, their parents. Their mom stood up with a wide smile, pulling Nick into a hug.

“We’ve been in Hawaii for the last few days” she said warmly. “We wanted to surprise you!”

Their dad chimed in, “But don’t worry, we’re staying on the opposite side of the island. We’re not here to crash your whole trip.”

Nick let out a laugh, still processing the surprise. Chris and Matt looked equally stunned but pleased to see them.

The waiter approached to seat us, and we quickly rearranged our tables, one table with four seats and one table with three. I glanced at Matt, who caught my eye with an amused look.

“This should be fun” he said.

“Let’s just hope they don’t figure out how drunk you three are” I whispered back, earning a small chuckle from him.

We settled into our seats, Nate sat across from me, Matt was next to him, and Chris was beside me, while Nick took one of the seats at the table with his parents.

Chris leaned forward toward his parents while pointing at me, his tone casual yet proud as he introduced me to his parents. “This is Y/n” he said. “She works with me for Fresh Love. We’ve been working hard on the new drop, couldn’t do it without her!.”

I smiled politely, but before I could say anything, Nick chimed in from the other table, his grin as wide as ever. “And she’s also my best friend” he added, his playful tone leaving no room for debate.

Their mom smiled warmly, nodding in approval, but the moment didn’t last long. Nick dove into conversation with his parents, leaving the four of us at our table to converse with each other.

Nate glanced up at Matt and Chris, his lips curling into a smirk. “Actually, I never asked how’d Vegas treat you two? Looked like you guys were.. occupied” he said, his words almost like he was implying something.

Chris chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Occupied is one way to put it. Christina practically glued herself to Matt” he teased, earning a scoff from Matt.

Hearing another woman’s name left a bitter taste in my mouth. I had no reason to feel jealous, and yet, the idea of Matt being drooled over by someone else stirred something in me that I couldn’t quite place. It was irrational, and I knew it, so I kept my thoughts to myself, silently picking at the edge of my napkin.

Nick’s voice broke the conversation as he turned to Chris. “Hey, wanna head outside for some pictures real quick before we order?”

Chris nodded, standing up and following Nick without hesitation, leaving just me, Matt, and Nate at the table.

There was a brief moment of silence before their mom, who I assume was half listening to our earlier conversation, leaned over with a smile. “So Nate, do you have anyone special in your life right now?”

Nate chuckled, shaking his head. “No, not at all” he replied, his tone light.

Matt, of course, couldn’t resist. “Harsh one.” He snickered under his breath, looking directly at me.

I raised an eyebrow at him, confused by his comment. Before I could even ask what he meant, Matt took things further. He smirked and leaned back in his chair, his voice loud and clear. “Y/n and Nate went on a date last week, you know that?”

My heart sank, my face flushing red as all eyes seemed to land on me.

“What?” I stammered, but Nate jumped in before I could say anything more.

“It wasn’t like that at all” he said firmly, shaking his head. “We just grabbed dinner as friends.”

Matt wasn’t ready to let it go, though. “Oh, come on, Y/n” he teased, his voice making a mockery out of me. “Why so quiet? Feeling the sting of public rejection?”

My stomach twisted in humiliation. I could feel my face burning as I desperately avoided eye contact with anyone at the table. The old Matt was back just like that.

“Matt, stop being so rude” their mom interjected sharply, her tone firm. She turned back to her husband, trying to steer the conversation away from Matt’s antics.

“Yeah c’mon man we’re just friends” Nate tried to make it clear.

But Matt wasn’t done. His next words hit like a punch to the gut. “Oof, imagine just being a quick fuck and then friendzoned.”

The air left my lungs. The humiliation was overwhelming, and I could feel the sting of tears forming in my eyes. None of what he said was true, but the damage was done.

“I.. I’m actually not feeling the best right now.. I think it's the heat.. excuse me” I said quickly, my voice cracking as I stood up. I turned to their parents, forcing a polite smile through the lump in my throat. “But it was lovely to meet you.”

Without waiting for a response, I walked away from the table, the tears streaming down my face before I even reached the door.

As I pushed through the entrance, I nearly ran into Nick and Chris, who were heading back inside.

“Y/n?” Chris asked, his expression immediately shifting to concern. “What’s wrong?”

��I don’t feel well” I mumbled, not stopping to explain. Before either of them could say another word, I kept walking, desperate to escape the restaurant, the humiliation, and, most of all, Matt.

I still felt the heat on my face, not from the warm Hawaiian night, but from the lingering embarrassment curling in my stomach. I really hoped his parents didn’t hear him say that. I was halfway down the quiet street when I heard the sound of running footsteps behind me.

“Y/n, wait!”

I clenched my jaw, picking up my pace, but Matt was faster, jogging until he caught up beside me. “Come on, don’t be like that” he said, slightly out of breath. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”

I stopped abruptly, whipping around to face him. “Oh, really? Because bringing up that in front of your parents sure didn’t make me feel like the star of the evening.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his usual cocky demeanor fading. “I wasn’t thinking. I was just messing around, you know how I am-”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I do. That’s the problem.” I turned back around, ready to keep walking, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” His voice was softer now, the arrogance stripped away. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

I folded my arms, giving him a glare. “And yet it did.”

He exhaled heavily, clearly frustrated, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to let him smooth this over with some half assed apology.

“Y/n” he tried again, “I just-”

“I don’t care, Matt.” My voice was cold, firm. “You always do this. Say something without thinking, then act like it’s not a big deal when it is. I don’t need an apology. I just need you to stop.”

He stared at me for a moment, as if trying to figure out a way to fix this, but I wasn’t interested in hearing it. So I stepped around him and walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of the dimly lit street, finally at a loss for words.

He didn’t follow me this time. Maybe he finally got the message, or maybe he knew pushing it any further would only make things worse. Either way, I didn’t care. My chest still burned from embarrassment, and my head was buzzing with frustration as I made my way back toward the villa.

I reached the villa, slamming the door behind me before kicking off my heels and making my way to the room. The relief of being alone and actually having a bedroom door for privacy was short lived because not even five minutes later, there was a knock.

I sighed, already knowing who it was. “Go away, Matt.”

“Just let me in for a second” he called through the door. “Please.”

I rolled my eyes, but something in his voice made me hesitate. It wasn’t his usual cocky tone. It sounded.. tired. Frustrated, even.

Against my better judgment, I walked to the door and swung it open. “You’ve got sixty seconds.”

Matt stepped inside, his jaw tight, hands shoved in his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “Look” he started, pausing for a second before meeting my eyes. “I was a dick. I know that.”

I folded my arms. “Great self awareness. Anything else?”

He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I said it. Maybe I was trying to be funny, or maybe I was just being an idiot, probably both. But I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

I scoffed. “You said I was a quick fuck that got friendzoned, Matt. How else was that supposed to come out?”

He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But you said it” I shot back, my voice rising. “In front of your parents, no less. Do you even think before you speak, or do you just say the first thing that pops into your head?”

“I-” He stopped, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t think you’d care so much.”

I blinked at him, stunned. “Care? Are you serious? You embarrassed me, Matt. You made me look like some desperate fool who got used and thrown away. Why wouldn’t I care?”

Matt’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite place, frustration, maybe, or something worse. I could tell he wanted to argue, to push back, but I wasn’t going to let him.

“You know what pisses me off the most?” I continued, folding my arms. “It’s not just what you said, it’s that you acted like you knew everything. Like you had some inside joke at my expense. And for what? A laugh?”

Matt exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that-”

“Then what was it like?” I challenged, my voice rising. “Because you made it sound like I was some easy target for Nate. And for the record, nothing ever even happened between us.”

Matt’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.” I snapped. “That night? Seven Minutes in Heaven? We didn’t even kiss. We sat there and talked, thought we’d mess with everyone's heads. And when we went out when you were in Vegas, and we made it clear we were just friends. There was nothing more to it.”

Matt blinked, like the idea had never even crossed his mind. “So you-”

“I never hooked up with Nate.” I interrupted, my tone sharp. “Not then. Not ever. So whatever picture you had in your head, whatever assumptions you made, they were wrong.”

He was quiet for a second, his hands still shoved in his pockets. “I didn’t know that.”

“No, you didn’t” I said bitterly. “Because you never asked. You just assumed.”

I could see it sinking in, the weight of his words finally hitting him, but I didn’t feel the satisfaction I thought I would. I just felt tired.

Matt let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was an asshole.”

“Yeah” I said, my voice flat. “You were.”

He glanced at me, like he wanted to say more, but I was done.

“I don’t have the energy for this” I muttered, stepping back toward the door. “I’m done, Matt. I don’t care how sorry you are. Just leave me alone. It’s best if we just stay out of each other's way for the rest of the trip.”

His jaw tensed, but this time, he didn’t fight it. He just nodded.

“Alright” he said quietly. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

I didn’t reply. I just closed the door, locking it this time.

a/n : everything is .. not changing?

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lonely-ey3s · 3 days ago

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With All My Love: Chapter 11 | crawl home to her

Chapter 11 : Crawl Home to Her

Word count: 12.6k

Chapter Summary: Joel starts making plans for your future together, getting everything arranged to ask you a very important question. You start going to therapy with Diane and things start to feel like they are going well but when you’re forced to relive Z’s death in a session, it pushes you off the edge. You start to make strides and feel better but soon after, something happens that knocks you completely off your axis, it pushes things out with Joel’s plans to be a little longer than he’d like.

Chapter warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), unprotected p in v (wrap it up ya'll), anxiety, nightmares, flashbacks of traumatic memories, mentions of PTSD anxiety, FLUFF, joel being an absolute lover, soft!joel, panic attacks, mentions of death, funeral, depression, use of Spanish and Dari but with translations, lying to partner (justified you’ll see), use of y/n.

A/N: this chapter was inspired by hozier’s ‘work song’ which i feel screams joel and this reader. that’s all i’ll say hehe – enjoy ❣️

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist

October 1st

Joel took the day off but didn’t tell you he had it off from work, he got up like normal and kept everything as routine as normal. However he wasn’t going into the office today, he was going to visit his mom for breakfast.

He left the house at 7:15 am, giving you a quick kiss as you were getting ready to go on a run then left the house and headed to his mom’s place.

He got there close to 8 am, she knew he was coming, he called her a few days ago asking if he could come over for breakfast and to talk about something important.

Elena knew. She knew the day she met you. She knew sooner rather than later, he was going to ask for her ring to propose to you. The way Joel held you in his arms, the way he looked at you like no one else was in the room, the way you spoke about him and Sarah, she knew. Joel wasn’t very secretive about his intentions either to his mom, casually asking here and there if she still had the family heirloom or saying something about how he’d like to settle down. Especially around his mom, he held you like you hung the moon and stars, he truly worshipped the ground you graced him with, and the happiness and warmth he had now exhibited, it was all she ever wanted for him.

It was hard watching him with Rachelle, she never seemed devoted to him or even in love with him, just the idea of him. She also hated how she treated him after finding out she was pregnant, like it was only Joel’s fault, holding him solely responsible for something they both took part in.

Joel changed after she told him she was pregnant, he closed himself off, emotionally especially. After trying so hard to love someone who didn’t love you back but then feel tied to that person for the next 18 years, it was one of the worst kinds of pains you could watch your child go through.

If Elena was being honest, when Rachelle left, it was somewhat of a relief. She knew that it would be hard on her son, but she never doubted Joel as a dad to Sarah. She knew he’d do what he needed to raise and love Sarah, that was clear. But what she was scared about was Joel being trapped in a loveless relationship when he had so much to offer and he deserved it back. To know and see how he felt with you, to her, it was all a mother could dream for her child.

She had breakfast cooking when he gently knocked on the front door before walking in, he was dressed in a nice button down and jeans, hair combed nicely as he had to put on the charade that he was dressing to go to work for you.

“Buenos dias mama…” he smiled and came up to her at the stove and kissed her cheek.

“Hola mi amor…” she smiled and nodded for him to sit, “Tengo café listo para ti en la cafetera.” (I have coffee ready for you in the pot.)

Joel smiled and thanked her, grabbing a mug from her cupboard and pouring himself a mug.

“How is your morning so far? How’s Y/N?” she looked back at Joel briefly as she started to plate up the breakfast she had made them, which was pincho de tortilla, one of his favorites.

Joel smiled and leaned against her counter, taking a sip of the coffee, humming, “It was good, she’s well, started talking to a therapist, which she said has been helping with the anxiety and nightmares.” he smiled and looked down at his coffee.

She tsked and nodded towards the table, “Sentémonos y hablemos… comamos.” (Let us sit down and talk… eat.) She grabbed the two plates of food and walked over to the small table she had around her island in the corner of her kitchen.

Joel followed and pulled her chair out for her, she sat and smiled, thanking him. He kissed her cheek gently and touched her shoulder, “Cualquier cosa para ti mamá” (Anything for you mama)

When Joel sat down she looked at him and smiled, studying him, “It’s so nice to see that warmth back in you, mi armor.” she touched his hand softly, “I missed seeing your alma…” (Soul, spirit, heart)

Joel looked up at his mom and warmly smiled, “Mama… I wanted to talk to you about…”

Before he could get the rest of his sentence out she pulled a small blue ring box out of her apron and set it in front of him, “¿Supongo que estás aquí por esto? Le pedirás que se case contigo, ¿sí?” (I assume you are here about this? You will ask her to marry you, yes?)

Joel chuckled looking at the box and teared up, nodding, “Yes mama, but I also came for your blessing.” he looked back up at her.

She tsked and shook his hand, tears falling down her cheeks as she smiled, “Mientras seas feliz, siempre tendrás mi bendición. Ella te hace brillar mi amor, te hace calentar!” (As long as you are happy, you will always have my blessing. She makes you shine my love, makes you warm!)

Joel picked up the box and opened it to reveal his grandmother’s ring which was passed onto his mother that was now either his or Tommy’s, whichever got to it first. It was a marquise-cut diamond in the center with two others to the side and then smaller diamonds around it. It was perfect. He took it out and held it in his fingers, tears streaming down his face, imagining him asking you, thinking about your reaction.

“She’s going to love it, mi vida.” she said softly, looking at the ring with him.

He nodded and cleared his throat, putting it back into the box and closing it, wiping his eyes, chuckling as he blushed.

“So… when will this be happening?” she took a bite of her food and looked at him, probing.

He chuckled and smiled, “I was going to ask her during the holidays but I can’t wait, something just feels right… waiting would…. hazme volverme loco…” (make me go crazy) He scoffed and chuckled lightly before smiling warmly, “...I have a few ideas but need to get this resized first then I’ll know when exactly…” he smiled down at the box, “But soon, as soon as I can.” he looked at her and brightly smiled.

Elena chuckled, “Come cariño, hace frío.” (Eat my darling, it’s getting cold) She shook her head as she smiled and then took his hand and gently squeezed it.

Joel left his mom’s a few hours later; he helped her with a few things around the house.

He drove back and went to watch Sarah practice soccer on the field after school, something he never had time for since most days he worked well past dinner time. He wasn’t the only person watching, but for Sarah, it was the first time in a long time she saw him on the sidelines during practice.

Sarah came up to him when it was over, backpack and duffle bag over her shoulders, “Hey Dad, everything ok?” she said out of breath.

He nodded and smiled, reaching to take both and carry them for her, “Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you about something before you got home.”

Sarah stopped walking, “Whatever you were told I did, I didn’t do unless you have video evidence, which in that case I need to have my lawyer present.” she joked.

Joel chuckled and nodded at her, “Come on… you weirdo. You aren’t in trouble.”

She smiled and caught up with him, “Well then what is it?” she prodded.

Joel smiled, “Let’s get into the truck first.”

He opened his truck door for her and she got in, he tossed her bags in the bed of the truck and then went into the driver's side, shutting the door.

Sarah adjusted in her seat to face him, tucking her foot under her thigh, hands in her lap, “Ok, what’s going on… you’re being oddly hush-hush…” Then she gasped, “Oh my god, am I going to be a big sister?!” she nearly shouted.

Joel chuckled and shook his head, “No, well not yet, no. But I wanted to talk to you about a step I’d like to take with Y/N before that happens…”

She looked at him with disgust, “Dad, I thought you guys were already doing that stuff… why do you need to consult with me about that?”

Joel turned red and shook his hands in front of him, “Oh god, no. I uhm… sorry wrong way to have phrased that, god. No, propose, I want to ask her to marry me.” she blurted out, flustered.

Sarah turned her head and smiled, “Wait what? You’re going to ask her to marry you?”

Joel swallowed, “Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about. How does that make you feel? Is that something you’re ok with?” he looked down at his hands, nervous.

Sarah chuckled like she thought he was messing with her, “You’re kidding right?”

He looked at her with those puppy eyes he has and she realized he was serious, “Oh, Dad… I’d be so proud and happy if you two got married. I think she would be overjoyed if you were to ask! You make each other so happy and take care of each other… I… anyone with two eyes can see you’re perfect for each other.” she smiled softly.

“You don’t think it’d be too quick? Like I’m moving too fast?” he leaned forward, messing with his cuticle.

She shook her head and smiled softly, “Proposing at the airport would have been too fast, but now? No… when you find the one, you… just… know. And Dad, you know she’s the right one.”

Joel nodded and smiled warmly, still messing with his cuticle, “Do you think she’s ready for that step?”

Sarah chuckled, “Dad, she’d marry you tomorrow if you asked.”

Joel looked up at Sarah and smiled, blushing lightly at that thought.

“Point is, she loves you and you love her.” she looked down at her hands and cleared her throat, “When are you gonna do it?” she looked up and grinned, wanting to know details.

Joel chuckled, “I need to know how long it’ll take to get the ring resized and then it’ll be after that.” he smiled.

Sarah perked up, “You’ve already got a ring? What the heck! You didn’t take me with you!” she nudged him, offended.

Joel laughed lightly and leaned forward, getting into his pocket and pulling out the ring box, handing it to Sarah, “It’s an heirloom baby girl, I got it from Abuelita today.” he blushed a little, everything was coming together.

Sarah opened the box and gasped, “Holy shit.”

Joel chuckled, “Language.”

Sarah giggled, “Sorry but that’s my thought! This is… dad it’s beautiful. She’s going to love it.” she looked up at her dad and had tears in her eyes, “You’re getting married…”

Joel smiled and then pulled her in for a hug, “Oh don’t cry, sweet pea.” he chuckled as he rubbed her back.

Sarah pulled away and wiped her tears, taking a deep breath, “I’m a horrible secret keeper, I don’t know how I’m not going to say anything…” She chuckled and looked back down at the ring, “Do Tommy and Maria know?” she looked up, hopeful.

He shook his head, “Abuelita was only the first because she had the ring, you know before Tommy if that’s what you’re worried about.” he laughed softly knowing Sarah and Tommy were always competitive in knowing things first as they were both equally close to Joel.

Sarah chuckled, “Suck on that Reginald.” she muttered to herself.

“Let’s get you home so she doesn’t suspect anything and then I’ll go to Tommy’s and tell them and be ‘home’ around my normal time…” he winked.

Sarah nodded and buckled up, giving him back the ring box, “Sounds good. I’ll lock myself in my room with a ‘project’ until you get home…” she giggled, excitedly.

Joel took Sarah home and dropped her off down the street so you wouldn’t hear his truck then went to Tommy’s.

Joel pulled into Tommy’s and before he could even get out of the truck Tommy was out on the porch, “What’s wrong? You weren’t at work today…”

Joel just chuckled and smiled, “Is Maria home?” he hiked up the steps and gently grabbed his brother by the shoulder to pull him inside with him.

“Yeah, she’s just makin’ somethin’ to eat, why? Where’s Y?N?” Tommy pressed.

It was rare for Joel to take a full day off work. But for him to take a full day off and then show up at Tommy’s with a smile and pep to his step, Tommy didn’t know what the hell to think.

Maria had some light country music playing in the kitchen as she cooked something on the stove, “Hey Joel…” she then snapped her head towards him, “What’s wrong?” instant concern flooding her face.

Joel chuckled, “Will you two just calm down? Nothing is wrong.”

Maria set the spatula down that she was using to break up some hamburger meat in a skillet, “If nothing is wrong, then why are you here, and why did Tommy say that you weren’t at work today?”

Joel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Ay dios mío…” he reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring box, and set it on the counter for Maria and Tommy to both see, “This is why…”

Both of them froze and then looked at each other, before looking at Joel and then looking back at the ring box.

“Is that what I think it is?” Maria grinned, tearing up a little.

“You bastard…” Tommy chuckled and grabbed the box, opening it.

“Sorry, I beat you to it, but yes. It’s what you think.” Joel shyly sat down at the table.

Maria squealed and jumped, running over and hugging Joel, almost knocking him off the damn chair.

He laughed and held her, hugging her tightly back.

“When? Where? I need to know everything!” Maria sat down in front of him, a greasy spatula in her hand.

Joel chuckled looking at her, “Soon. I need to resize the ring first, but it’ll be within the month. I have a few ideas that I’m tossing in my head, I just… I want everything to be perfect.” He smiled softly.

Tommy smiled and looked at the ring closer, “How did Mama take the news?” he looked at Joel.

Joel softly chuckled, “She put the ring in front of me before I could even ask for it…” he blushed, “She told me as long as I was happy, that’s all she wanted.”

Tommy brought the ring box over and let Maria see it, “Joel, it’s beautiful… she’s going to go crazy.”

Maria teared up, looking down at it, “Ugh, I’m so happy for you two…” she started crying.

Joel smiled, “I may need your help with some distractions at some point, would that be ok?” he looked at Maria.

“Are you kidding? My lips are sealed! Whatever you need, I’ll do!” she laughed through the tears, frantically wiping them, “My best friend is getting married!”

Joel chuckled and knelt in front of her and pulled her in for a hug, “Thank you for all you’ve done for her, and for making her damn stubborn ass write me those letters, without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you.” he held onto her tightly.

Tommy gently took the spatula from her grasp and took care of what she left at the stove as she hugged Joel.

She nodded, “Does this mean you're going to name your kids after me?” she teased and pulled away.��

Joel chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll be in the running.”

Maria chuckled and then held his face in her hands and smiled, “Oh, Joel, I’m so happy for you. You deserve this.” she pulled him in for another hug.

Joel held onto her a little longer that time, feeling for the first time in a very long time that he truly had everything he needed. He was a blessed man.

Maria slowly pulled away, “You want to stay for dinner?” she smiled, “It’s nothin’ fancy, just taco salad…”

Joel stood and gently took the ring box from the table, closing it up, and smiling, “I actually need to make it home. If I’m not home soon she’ll suspect something might be up.” he looked up and sniffed softly, wiping his eyes.

Tommy smiled and put the spatula down then came over and hugged his brother tightly, “Congrats, I’m so happy for you both.” he patted Joel’s back and smiled as he pulled away.

Joel smiled and told them he would keep them posted then left theirs.

He ran by the store and grabbed some flowers for you before heading home trying to ask like the best thing just happened today, he got the ring to propose to you.

He opened the front door to the sweet smell of what he could deduce was something that had been cooking all day, “Hey baby, I’m home.” he said loud enough to be heard through the house.

You peeked your head from the kitchen, “In here!” and then disappeared to do what you were doing.

He smiled and put the ring box in his work bag before taking off his boots and coming up from behind you, “Mi vida…” he wrapped his arm around your waist from behind and kissed your cheek, making you smile and giggle.

“Hello, my love…” you touched his hand around your waist and kept working at stirring some gravy on the stove, “Dinner will be ready in about 5 minutes…”

He smiled and kissed your shoulder softly, humming, “Take your time, we are in no rush.” he rocked you a little from side to side.

You smiled and turned your head and did a dramatic sigh, “My my, are those for me?” you said in a small British accent, clutching your imaginary pearls, looking at the flowers he had in his hand.

He smiled and nodded, chuckling at your humor, “They are, I missed you too much today to come home empty-handed…” he leaned in and gently kissed your cheek.

You blushed and set the whisk down to turn in his grasp to gently pull him close by his button-up and kiss him gently.

He put his hand on your cheek gently and continued to kiss you, softly and slowly.

Sarah came down the stairs and gasped seeing the flowers, thinking it had happened, and covered her mouth excitedly, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

Joel pulled away from your lips and turned to see her reaction, you chuckled and looked at her, “You good sweets, what’s earned that reaction?”

Joel’s eyes widened and he looked at her telepathically telling her ‘It didn’t happen, it’s just flowers.’, barely shook his head to signal to her.

She looked at you and then smiled, lying through her teeth, “Uhhm oh! My gosh I just saw that you cooked roast! I’m so excited!” she opened the lid that had the roast inside it and took a whiff, “Mmm! Delicious!” she smiled brightly.

You looked at her confused, she never got this excited about the roast and you’ve cooked it before for them, “Ok? Never got that reaction outta you for a roast but I’ll let it slide…” You chuckled then took the gravy off the stove and started walking towards the front door.

Joel swatted at Sarah, whispering, “You almost ruined it!” he smiled, knowing she didn’t mean to, she’s just excited.

Joel put the flowers in the sink and then went to follow you. He turned around the corner when he saw you reached down to grab his work bag and he jumped at you going to open the bag, but you pulled away, smiling, clueless.

“Woah! Whatcha doin’ darlin’?” internally panicking, you could not get into that bag.

You giggled, looking up at him, “I’m just getting your lunch bag out, silly!” You went to open it again.

‘Fuck fuck FUCK!’ was all he could think so he blurted out, “I left it at work.”

Sarah peeked around and knew exactly why her dad was being weird about the bag, she started thinking, ‘Shit she has the bag. She can’t have the bag. Crap!’

You looked up at him and chuckled, then looked between the two of them, both smiling a little too widely, looking guilty, you narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips, “Ya’ll are jumpy and acting weird, what’s going on?”

Joel shook his head and chuckled, “Nothing is going on… we aren’t being weird. Right, Sarah?”

Sarah nodded and came over and chuckled forcefully, “Right, this is our normal not weird at all selves.” he nudged your arm gently with her fist, trying to act casually, but it backfired as you read right through it.

You watched as her fist nudged you and then clocked Joel with your gaze, testing him, “Cool, ok. So then what’s in the bag?” you tilted your head.

He had every damn red alarm and code red going off in his head, heart racing, palms sweaty, he was panicking but on the outside, he kept it together, looked cool as a cucumber, “Nothin’ just contracts and work stuff sweetheart.” he smiled.

You looked at Sarah and she swallowed, she was horrible at lying and even worse at keeping secrets. However, she was easy to crack as well and you knew that, you grinned, “If there’s nothing in the bag, then why are you so nervous sweets?”

“Nervous? I’m not nervous… you’re nervous…” she chuckled, putting her hands up defensively.

“Sarah Elena Miller, what is going on?” you chuckled.

She knew she couldn’t tell you the truth, but she needed to get you off this damn bag so she took one for the team and for the first time lied straight through her teeth. She took a breath and sighed heavily for dramatics, “Fine…” she looked at Joel who looked like he was going to crack for a split second before she rambled, “I kissed a boy… and we got caught behind the bleachers by the stupid assistant principal. Dad picked me up from school early today because I got called into the principal’s office due to breaking ‘school conduct’...” she rolled her eyes and used air quotes, “...and there’s a write-up in dad’s bag…” she looked at the bag and pointed, “One that he promised he wouldn’t show you because I didn’t want you to know… because you’re gonna get all… mom-ish about it…”

You dropped the bag and opened your arms, smiling, “You kissed a boy!?” you giggled, “Come here!” you hugged her tightly. Joel quickly swept in and grabbed the bag, getting the ring out and putting it in his back pocket quickly.

Sarah looked at Joel while hugging you and glared, mouthing ‘You owe me’.

Joel nodded and mouthed back, ‘Thank you’.

You pulled back, “Tell me everything!” you dragged her to the kitchen, now wrapped up in this lie.

Joel took this opportunity to run upstairs and put the ring in his lock box under the bed which had his gun and some spare cash before quickly making it back down in hopes you didn’t see him disappear upstairs.

Sarah made up some scenario about her and some boy in chemistry, kept it brief but indulged you with small details.

It was a small price for Sarah to pay to keep the big picture alive for her Dad which is all she wanted.

2 weeks later

You had been going to therapy once a week and meeting with Diane at her office downtown ever since that dinner with Joel and his coworkers. For the most part, it had been helping with the nightmares and coping with moments of anxiety.

However, since your last session a couple of days ago, you guys touched on Z’s death and went over the events that led up to it. She had you recount certain key details that she attempted to guide you in knowing and understanding there was nothing you could have done to avoid what happened. It helped you understand that you weren’t responsible for his death but the flashbacks and recounts of what happened made it hard to sleep or relax the last few days.

You shot up out of a dead sleep and gasped, panting hard as you had been taken back to being in that chokehold that you swear is the reason Z is dead. You were shaking, unable to associate where you were in some way, staring into the distance as past trauma flooded your mind. It was like you were right back there. You weren’t in bed, you were back in the middle of that street.

Joel turned in his sleep and went to reach for you, and felt you weren’t there. He opened his eyes and saw you sitting up, your chest heaving and eyes wide open, “Baby?” he gently went to touch you, but the second his hand touched your back, you jolted out of fear and moved away from him, off the bed, “No! no…” you said loudly, you grabbed a pillow from the floor to put distance between you two, your hands shaking, eyes filled with fear, you weren’t there, you were reliving something.

He sat up, instantly realizing what you were experiencing, Diane warned him this might happen, and held his hands out defensively, “Hey, it’s me…” he spoke softly and calmly. He got up off the bed and held his hands up for you to see, “Baby, it’s me...” he cooed, “You’re safe. You are with me at our home.” he started to walk towards you.

You backed up into a corner and held the pillow out, “D-don’t… don’t move…”

He nodded, “Ok… I’m going to stay right here…” he continued to speak softly. “Can you take a deep breath with me?” he took a deep breath through his nose, watching for you to do it with him, you weren’t there, your eyes were somewhere else.

You shook your head, “Stop.. stop!” and began panting quickly through your nose, you put your hand on your chest instinctually.

“Where… where is it…” Your eyes moved around the room, analyzing the surroundings, mentally calculating every component, “Where is it…” you questioned, jaw clenched, looking for something specific.

“Where’s what sweetheart?” Joel asked, softly, trying to follow your eyes.

“Where is it?” you fell to the floor and started frantically looking for something on the floor. “Where is it…” you repeated, patting the floor to find something.

Joel went to move from that spot he was at to come by you and help, but you immediately shot up and stood, “Ja nakon!” (Don’t move in Dari), you shouted twice, pointing at him to get back to where he was.

He nodded, he rarely heard you speak Dari, this was bad, so he went back, “Ok. I won’t… I won’t move.” he watched as you dragged your bag out from under the bed, tearing through it, not finding what you needed.

“I can help… what are you looking for, I can help you…” he pleaded, looking at you panicking at what you couldn’t find, wanting nothing more than to help you through this.

You stood and started digging through the dresser, frantically looking through clothes, tears now streaming down your cheeks, “M-my necklace…” you began to sob, and began hyperventilating, knees giving out on you, sliding down the dresser, “Fuck… fuck…” you grabbed your shirt over your chest and closed your eyes, trying to breathe.

“Necklace?” he perked up, “Baby, it’s in the bathroom… you take it off at night.” he watched you fall to your knees and went to move but then remembered what Diane had told him. She said to do exactly as you said when you had these episodes as you could turn violent, unable to know the difference between memories and reality, but this, this was you being weighed down by what you had no control over, you couldn’t move, you didn’t know where you were and he could help.

“Fuck it.” he rolled over the bed and went into the bathroom, grabbing the necklace he gave you, which was in a jewelry dish you found thrifting with all your earrings and rings you would wear, he came out then slowly walked over to you, “Here… look… I found it…” he was careful not to touch you but came to your side and opened his hand, showing you the necklace in his palm.

You opened your eyes, and your breathing started to slow down, you instantly were surrounded by his scent from his cologne, “Joel…” you breathed out quietly, then immediately leaned your head onto his chest, “My Joel…” your breathing started to calm down and you started to cry softly, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” you curled into him.

He immediately wrapped you in his arms, “Shhh… you’re safe.” he kissed your head, “I got you.”

You gripped onto his arm, repeating how sorry you were.

He just kept kissing your head and holding you, no need to acknowledge the apologies, as you had nothing to be sorry for in his eyes.

He hummed softly the song you and he danced to in the bathroom your first night here which you had deemed your’s and his song. It instantly put you to sleep in his arms, against his chest.

He slowly picked you up and put the both of you into bed, holding you close against his chest so you could hear his heartbeat, he kept you that way all through the night.

—

At 4:45 am your alarm went off to go on your run. You leaned over and turned it off and sighed, blinking your eyes open as you lay on your back, exhausted from last night's events.

“You can always skip it…” Joel turned on his side and kissed your shoulder, then took your hand in his and kissed it as well.

You smiled softly, “Routine is important to maintain…” you looked over at him, “That’s important now after what happened last night…” you sadly said, taking your other hand and combing your fingers through his hair softly, looking at his features.

He smirked, looking at your lips, “Can we add something else to your routine then?” he kissed your shoulder again, then moved to settle himself in between your legs, moving his lips to kiss up to your neck.

You chuckled, biting your lip, “Baby… you try this every time I go on a run, and what happens?”

He grinned and slowly ran his hand up your thigh to take your hand in his then took your other hand with his other hand, putting them above your head, holding your wrists, effectively trapping you under him. He leans down and whispers in your ear as he starts to grind his hardened cock against your core, “I observe and I adapt.” he nibbles on your earlobe earning a soft moan from you.

“You need your hands when it comes to getting out from under me, I took care of that.” he growled into your neck as he started kissing your pulse point and jawline.

Your hips involuntarily bucked against his and you moaned softly as he began sucking on that soft spot under your ear, teasing it with the tip of his tongue.

He hummed and held your hands in one of his, slowly moving the other between your bodies as he heard you heavily pant, cursing under your breath, “Fuck Joel…”

“I know baby…” he kissed down your neck to your chest and collarbones before moving his hips back to take himself out of his boxers and line up with your entrance that was already weeping for him. “Do me a favor and open your legs a little wider for me, mi vida…”

You opened your legs, letting your knees almost touch the mattress, fully open for him, he groaned, “God you look so good like this…” he notched himself at your entrance “But you feel even better…” he then looked up at you before slowly sinking himself into you, causing your breath to hitch and his to quicken as the sudden warmth pulled him in, earning a deep groan from him.

Your head went up and back against your pillow, pussy fluttering as he continued to bury himself inside you, whispering as you weren’t sure if Sarah had gotten up for soccer practice yet, “Fuck, keep going…” you begged.

Joel moved his hand to bring your left thigh up to open you up further for him, earning a small whimper from you, eyebrows pinched, chest heaving, taking a deep breath, “God I…” you let out a breath to avoid moaning.

Joel knew what you were doing and took that as a challenge, “Not moaning for me baby?” he lightly panted as he moved to your leg was now against his chest, and your calf and foot were now over his shoulder as he used himself to push against you; opening you wide as you could.

He kissed your inner thigh and knee, “We’ll see about that…” and then began thrusting deeply and slowly in and out of you, from base to tip, over and over, slowly building in speed with each repetition.

He kept your hands above your head, feeling you slowly crumble beneath him from how your hands started to fight against him, and your head slowly began rolling to moan into your arm near your head.

He groaned softly, “Eyes on me, mi amor, I can feel your close…” he felt you grip his cock, and begin to roll your hips with him, eager for release.

Your breath quickened and became heavy, “I want to touch you…” your eyes traveled up to your hands and then back to his eyes, “Please…” you pleaded.

He nodded, bringing his hand down to cup your cheek and leaned in, capturing your lips in his and slowly kissing you, your hands grabbing onto his bicep and shoulder, moaning against his lips as you came shortly after, your legs shaking against him.

He pulled away from your lips and put his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek softly as he whispered, “Eres el amor de mi vida” (You are the love of my life)

You moved your hand from his shoulder to his cheek then into his hair, pulling him close to you, looking into his eyes lovingly, whispering, “Eres mi todo…” (You are my everything)

You leaned your head up to capture his lips in yours and kiss him deeply, both of you panting as he sped up his thrusts, rocking the bed as he rocked into your hips, you moaned against his lips, close again to release, this time feeling like a wave was about to crash, pulling his hair to keep him close, addicted to his lips on yours, probing your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss.

Joel’s hand flew to hold onto the headboard above you as he continued to grind into you, feeling that familiar pull in his naval, warmth starting to spread down his spine, he mumbled against your lips, “Fuck…” before his hips snapped into you, grunting and spilling himself inside of you, earning a tight flutter around him as you came as well, gripping onto his shoulder, moaning his name against his lips as his hips slowed down, his breath shaky against your lips.

You hummed and combed through his hair, slowing your kisses down, lips leaving him to kiss down his jaw and neck, gently kissing those places, “That’s one way to get my pre-workout…”

Joel slowly pulled out, hissing as he fell onto his back, chest heaving, a light layer of sweat coating his skin, eyes dizzy and drunk from the high he just had.

You looked over at him and kissed his shoulder as you leaned over, “Get some more sleep before work, my love…” you chuckled softly before getting up to clean up and get dressed.

By the time you came back into the bedroom dressed in a hoodie and leggings, he was passed out, asleep. You chuckled quietly and combed his hair back gently, kissing his forehead before leaving to go on your run.

You came home an hour later, sore and muscles feeling exhausted, it was exactly what you needed.

You saw no one had been up yet so you decided to start making breakfast.

After last night you wanted to do something for Joel so you wrote him a letter, something you two hadn’t done for each other in a while since you’d been home, and put some lipstick on to put kiss marks all over it after you had finished writing it.

You saw Maria had done it once with a letter of Tommy’s and never got the chance to do it yourself.

You also found a keychain that said ‘Drive safe cowboy’ and your initial and a cowboy hat charm on it the other day at a gas station, you couldn’t help but get it for him.

You put it in the envelope along with the letter, then went over to Joel’s bag by the front door and, put it in the main pocket so he could see it when he got to work.

You had pancakes, eggs, and toast ready when you saw the clock and no one was up, you jogged upstairs and knocked on Sarah’s door before opening it, “Sweets time to get up, it’s 6:30…” she groaned and smiled, nodding before she sat up and stretched.

You went down the hall and knocked on the bedroom door, peeking in, “Hey sleepy head, it’s time to get up, breakfast is going to get cold.”

Joel shot up and looked back at you, “Come ‘ere…” he sleepily said.

You chuckled, “Nope, not fallin’ for that cowboy. You want me, I’ll be in the kitchen.” you closed the door lightly and went back downstairs.

Both were downstairs fully dressed within the next 20 minutes. You had your laptop out on the table and were messaging Reggie back and forth lately in the mornings, checking in on him.

You made Sarah a plate and gave it to her when she came down, “Mornin’ sweets… your soccer gear is folded and in your duffle bag, I washed last night for you. Also, you left your chemistry book out, I put it in your book bag.” you smiled at her.

She took the plate and smiled, “Thank you…”

You nodded and handed Joel his plate, “Mornin’ sweetheart… your lunch is in your bag, and the calendar says you have a meeting with Ross and Associates at 7:30… do you want a to-go coffee as well since you won’t be able to stop for one?”

He put his plate down and shook his head, cupping your cheek with his hand, “Kiss me first then I’ll give you my answer mi cielo…” (my heaven/sky)

Sarah rolled her eyes and groaned, turning around with her plate, and eating some eggs, “First let me avert my innocent eyes…”

You chuckled and then leaned up and kissed him gently once then slowly and deeply another before pulling away, keeping your eyes closed, leaning into his hand.

He smiled and gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb, “To go coffee would be nice, thank you…” he leaned back in and kissed you again, this time deeply and sliding his tongue against your lips, you blushed and kissed him back a few times before Sarah cleared her throat.

“Ya’ll done sucking face?” she said with her back still to you.

You giggled and pulled away, gently touching his cheek, “Eh, for now…” you winked up at him then handed him his plate again.

He smiled and bit his lip, pecking your lips once more before going to sit at the table.

There was an alert from your computer, it was from Reggie, “Baby can you tell me what Reggie said?”

You went to the cupboard and grabbed a travel thermos, filling it with coffee for Joel.

Joel pulled your laptop over and clicked on the message, reading it, “He said he’s going on assignment for a few days, something super easy, he said he’s going to Delta 22?” he looked up at you.

You nodded, “Oh they must just need extra hands, but they have horrible service there.” you shrugged, nothing to worry about. “Will you tell him ‘thank you for letting me know’ and to call me when he gets back?” you smiled over at Joel, making yourself a plate of breakfast.

Joel smiled at you and nodded, typing out a message and then sending it to him.

You came over and sat by him, closing your laptop seeing Reggie had gone offline, “Here’s your coffee…” You put the thermos by his plate.

He leaned over and kissed your cheek, “Thank you for all you do, cada diํa te quiero mas” (Each day I love you more)

You blushed and began eating your breakfast.

Before you knew it they were both out of the door, leaving you to your own devices which consisted of applying for jobs and cleaning small things around the house.

Joel got to work and knew he was going to propose next weekend. He had a few more things to line up, but for the most part, everyone knew and was all super excited now, knowing an exact date and how he was going to do it. The meeting he had with ‘Ross and Associates’ was actually an engagement photographer he hired to capture the moment as Maria emphasized how much you would love having it captured. He was meeting with them to outline the timeline of events and then what he wanted out of the session.

He met with them, and everything went well, they would be at the place where he was doing everything, acting like someone randomly taking photos, but the moment he got on one knee, they’d be there to capture it all.

He opened his bag to get into his lunch and came across the envelope with your handwriting on it.

It was addressed to “Mi vaquero”. He smiled and eagerly opened it, seeing the keychain and letter, he immediately put the keychain on his key ring and then opened the letter, leaning back into his chair as he read:

Joel, I wanted to get back into the habit of how we started, writing you letters. I miss it. I sometimes crave opening the mailbox and seeing a letter from you, it brought me so much joy and happiness seeing you wrote me. I can’t believe sometimes that’s how we started, by a simple letter. Crazy right? I wanted to thank you for how patient and kind you’ve been with me since coming home. I know it’s not easy with my nightmares and trauma, I can see the fear and anxiety in your eyes - and I just wanted to thank you for how you take care of me and love me. I also wanted to tell you that since being home I’ve had an amazing time with you. I wake up every day and eres la razón por la que sonrío todos los días. (You are the reason I smile every day) I see my whole life with you and Sarah, I love you both so much and enjoy our life together. Sarah called me mom at her tryouts, and I don’t know if it was on accident or purpose but I can’t begin to tell you how happy that made me feel. You two are my family, my everything. Let’s get back into the letter writing, please? With all my love, Y/N’

Joel smiled at the part you said about Sarah calling you mom. He knew she wanted you to be a mom figure to her, but it warmed his heart to know she may already be calling you ‘mom’.

He loved the kiss marks around the letter, a nice little new touch to the letters. He would definitely be leaving your letters more often around the house and now had an idea to add to the proposal.

2 days later

Sarah got home from school around 4 pm and found the house completely dark, with windows closed, and lights off, it was weird, something was off.

She called out for you, no answer.

She walked upstairs and saw the bedroom door was closed, she knocked on it softly, “Y/N… you in there?” she opened the door, and you were curled up in bed, tissue box by the bed, it was completely dark.

You didn’t answer.

Sarah stepped in, “Hey… you ok?”

She came around and gently touched your shoulder, you sniffed, your eyes were red and bloodshot, from crying, “Y/N… what’s wrong?” she asked concerned.

“Reggie…” you swallowed, looking at the wall across from you, “He’s dead.” you put the covers over your head and softly started to cry again.

Sarah sadly sighed, “I'm so sorry..." she rubbed your back softly with her thumb, "Do you want me to come lay with you or do you need to be alone?”

“You can stay, but if you need to go, I understand.” you said softly.

Sarah nodded, “I just need to go put my book bag away, I’ll be back ok?”

You nodded, staying under the covers as tears poured from your eyes.

Sarah left the room and went downstairs, immediately calling Joel.

He picked up, smiling, “Hey sweet pea.”

“Dad, can you come home?” Sarah asked biting her nail.

Joel’s tone immediately changed, “Sarah, what’s wrong?”

“Reggie… she said he’s dead. Dad, it’s bad. She’s in bed, I came home to the whole house dark, she’s… please, I don’t know what to do... I...” Sarah tearing up.

“Does Maria know?” he grabbed his keys and started jogging to his truck.

“I don’t know, I doubt it. Can you call Tommy? I’m going to go lay with her til you get home.” she started walking up the stairs.

“Ok yeah, I'll call him. I’ll be home soon. I love you. Thank you for calling me.”

“I love you too, see you soon.” she hung up and ran up the stairs, coming into the room and closing the door behind her, getting into the sheets, and laying on her side to face you, she gently took your hand.

You cried softly and held onto her hand, “They called this morning…” you sniffed, “I was his contact on his papers…” you closed your eyes and swallowed, trying to calm your breathing down.

Sarah moved closer, whispering, “I’m so sorry…” She put her other hand on your arm and gently rubbed it, trying to offer comfort.

You chuckled sadly, “I have a whole fucking funeral to plan, I don’t even know where to start!” you choked up, “He… he has no family he said, but there’s gotta be someone out there, right? He couldn’t have been all alone…”

Sarah nodded, “I’ll help you, we can search for his family on the internet. I’ll help tonight.” she smiled sadly, “Dad can help you plan the funeral… we... we will help.” she squeezed your hand, “We are here for you.”

You nodded, and let out a shaky breath, “You went down and called Dad, didn’t you?” you chuckled.

Sarah looked at your hands shyly, “Is that ok?”

You nodded and smiled, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks, “I didn’t have the energy to, I should have called him earlier but I just…”

Sarah nodded, “You couldn’t… I get it. It’s ok.” she looked at you, “Your friend just died, it’s ok not to be ok, right?”

You nodded and touched her cheek, “Right.”

She leaned in to put her head closer to yours, “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded and took your hand off her cheek, putting your hand on hers that was holding your other, “Of course…”

She shyly looked at your hands, “Was it ok that I called you mom at tryouts?”

You chuckled and smiled through tears, “Oh thank god, I thought you didn’t mean it, like it was by accident.”

She looked at you and giggled, “Of course I meant it!” she nudged you.

You smiled through tears and looked at her, “Are you wondering if you can keep calling me mom?”

Sarah looked at you and shyly looked back at your hands again, “Would that be ok?”

You nodded, “You can call me whatever you’re comfortable with sweets.” you brushed her hair back, “If you want to call me mom all the time or some of the time or here and there, I’m perfectly happy with whatever you’re ok with.” you smiled softly.

Sarah nodded and then moved her head to press against yours, keeping your hand in hers, tearing up, “Ok Mom.”

You chuckled and tears kept falling, “You chose a very convenient time to make me cry as I’m already a blubbering mess!”

She laughed softly and started to have tears fall as well, “I’ll join you!”

You touched her cheek and smiled, “Thanks for being here, I appreciate it.”

She nodded, “Can I ask what happened? To Reggie?” she sadly looked at you.

“They said his plane was hit in transport. He never made it to location.” you sighed, “It happens... I mean anything can happen over there, but I just didn’t expect it to happen, you know?”

Sarah nodded, “Was he the only one killed in action?”

You shook your head, “Pilot and 2 other medics…”

Sarah sighed and nodded, “I’m glad you’re home… I don’t know what we would have done if you had ever gotten hurt or died.” she looked at your hands, “It would have crushed Dad…”

You saw her start to disconnect so you squeezed her hand, “I’m home now, and that isn’t going to happen, yeah?”

She snapped out of it and nodded, “Right.”

You took a breath and closed your eyes, “I don’t know how I’m going to tell Terrence... or Maria… it... it's going to crush them” and you shook your head, pinching the bridge of your nose before sobbing quietly.

You could hear the front door open and close followed by Joel’s heavy steps up the stairs as he jogged up, he knocked on the door softly, “Sweetheart?”

“Come in Dad…” Sarah softly called as she moved to console you by hugging you.

Joel came into the room kneeling by the bed Sarah was on, letting you and Sarah have your space and time together. He reached over and put his hand on yours that was on Sarah’s back, offering what support he could.

You continued to sob into Sarah’s shoulder, giving yourself a headache.

Joel came around the bed and laid behind you, wrapping you in his arms as you hugged Sarah did from the front, kissing the back of your head and temple, whispering how sorry he was.

You eventually fell asleep after crying what felt like hours, curled up against them, exhausted emotionally and mentally from the news.

Joel and Sarah slipped out and headed downstairs together, Sarah looked at him, “What do we do?”

Joel looked up at her, leaning against the counter, “She just needs support.” he looked down, “I’ll call Diane in the morning and see if she can get her in for an emergency session.”

“I mean what are you going to do about… you know?” she wiggled her ring finger.

Joel didn’t even think about that right now. He didn’t even think how this put a wrench in his plans, he was just so focused on you. He sighed and nodded, “I guess it’s just not the right time.” he bit the inside of his cheek, thinking.

Sarah nodded and sighed, “Can the plan be pushed out? Maybe another week, after the funeral?”

Joel nodded, “I’ll talk to everyone tomorrow and explain what’s going on. I’m sure it can.” he smiled softly.

Sarah nodded then went to the fridge, “I’ll start some dinner, you wanna call Tommy? Check on Maria?”

Joel nodded, “Order some take out, sweat pea. Don't worry about cookin'... not on a day like this.” he put his wallet on the counter and walked away to call Tommy.

The next morning you woke up with a massive headache. Your phone alarm went off and you rolled over, snoozing it.

Ugh. 5 am never felt so gross.

Joel turned to face you and wrapped you in his arms, you had been out the rest of the night, this was the first time you’d been awake in almost 15 hours, he kissed your temple gently, “Stay…”

You swallowed, your voice hoarse, “It’s not for a run… it’s for the airport…” you said emotionless, still exhausted.

Joel perked his head up, brushing your hair back, “What do you mean sweetheart?”

You kept your gaze fixed on the ceiling, focusing on one specific bump amongst the popcorn texture above you. One that you stared out for hours yesterday, “He… his body is… I have to be there to transport him.”

“What time do we have to be there?” he kissed your cheek gently.

“We? You don’t have to come… it’ll be a lot of protocols and standing and just… it’ll be a lot.” you sat up and sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed, rolling your shoulders, feeling stiff from how long you had been in bed.

“I don’t care, mi vida, there’s no way you’re doin’ this alone…” he sat up and gently kissed your shoulder from behind you, “When do I need to be ready?”

You took a breath and looked back at him, leaning your head against his, melting against him, grateful for him and his constant support, “We need to leave the house in a half hour.”

He nodded and leaned up, kissing your forehead, “I’ll go brew us some coffee.” then got off the bed and opened the bedroom door, walking to go downstairs.

You stood up and went over to the closet, pulling out your ceremonial uniform and laying it on the bed.

Joel came up and got dressed quickly, putting on some jeans and a nice button-down, putting on some nice boots, trying to look put together and respectful. He headed back downstairs saying he’d get some to-go coffee ready while you finished getting ready.

You brushed your hair out, washed your face, and brushed your teeth then did your hair into the traditional bun before getting into the uniform, taking your time, making sure everything was respected, and done right.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, never wanting to see yourself in this uniform, this was never meant to be worn, no one was supposed to die. This was a heavy uniform to wear, one that felt too tight and too formal, not physically but mentally. You hated everything about it.

You narrowed your eyes and clenched your jaw and then stood up straight, rolling your shoulders back, putting your hands to your side, before grabbing your hat and gloves and walking downstairs.

Joel was sitting at the table when he saw you, never seeing you in the uniform. You thought aside from the circumstances, you looked beautiful.

“Hey… you ready baby?” he stood up.

You nodded and headed towards the front door, feeling numb, wanting to just get this over with.

You put your hand on the doorknob and stopped, feeling that sharp pin of anxiety starting in the back of your skull, you closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath, stretching out your neck and rolling it in a circle to get that gnawing feeling to go away.

Joel came up and set the thermos he had in his hands and gently turned you towards him, to softly pull you to hug him.

You wrapped your arms around him and took in a breath then slowly let it out, “This wasn’t supposed to happen…”

He kissed your head gently and nodded, “I know… I’m so sorry.” he gently rubbed your back, holding onto you as long as you needed.

After a few moments, you pulled back, took his hand, and took one of the thermos, “I’m ready…”

He nodded and walked with you to the truck.

The ride to the airport was about 30 minutes. He held onto your hand the whole drive and would occasionally glance at you and softly smile, telling you how much he loved you and how he’d help you later arrange what needed to be done.

You would nod but barely talk, you felt so disconnected, not truly there, it didn't feel real. This couldn't be happening. You listened to soft hum as he'd hum along to the music or watch out the window as he drove, you and your thoughts trying to escape this shit outcome.

You were told yesterday where to meet the aircraft and told Joel past a certain point he’d have to stay back. He understood and stayed with you until you would get to that point which would be a certain point on the tarmac for family's and loved ones.

Once you hit the tarmac, there was a large military transport craft parked. You walked up to a small crowd of people, loved ones who also were greeting their loved ones, and looked at Joel, “Wait for me here, I’ve got to do a few things after we transport him with some officers.” you looked down to put your gloves on.

Joel nodded and looked at you as you started putting your hat and gloves on, “Can I kiss you, or is that against protocol?” he asked softly, genuinely, wanting to be respectful of any decorum.

You looked up at him, smiling gently, and touched his cheek, “You can kiss me, you need not ever ask.”

He leaned in and kissed you softly a couple of times, pulling back a little, “I’ll be here when you’re done. Tell Reg welcome home for me.” he touched your chin and softly rubbed his thumb across your lip.

You nodded, backed away, and brushed your uniform before walking through the group of family members over to a group of higher-ranking officers in charge of this event.

Joel hung back and an older woman came up to him, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help but overhear… who are you here for if I can ask?”

Joel looked down and nodded, “Oh… my girlfriend is here to transport a friend of hers she served with, Specialist Reginald Mackey.” he sadly smiled.

She gasped softly, “Oh… thank god.” tears streamed down her face.

Joel tilted his head, confused.

“I’m his mother… he… we…” she started to sob, “We didn’t have a good relationship towards the end. They wouldn’t let me over there when I asked. Something about someone else being on the paperwork.”

Joel looked towards you and then her, “Oh… ma’am, I’m so sorry. I… my… mine served with him. They were good friends, she was on the paperwork, I believe.” he touched her hand, “I can see if she can bring you over?”

She shook her head, “No, no need. I just didn’t want him to come home alone, but she’s bringing him home. She's there for him...” she wiped her tears, “May I stand with you?”

Joel nodded and smiled, “Of course.”

She held out her hand, “Mary… Mary Mackey.” she smiled softly.

“Joel... Joel Miller…” he took her hand gently and shook it.

—

You walked up and saluted the commanding officers before they put you at ease.

You were instructed to stand and wait for his casket to come out as there were three others aboard, he was the last one. There were 25 other service men and women lined up with you. You all stood respectfully, saluting as each casket came out and was loaded into a an individual hearse.

After about 20 minutes, Reggie was announced and you and 6 other officers stepped forward, in two lines of 3, and walked into the aircraft to gather him.

You touched the top of the casket gently and whispered, “Welcome home brother…” you clenched your jaw to hold back tears and swallowed before standing straight like the rest of the group and then as one turning to the right before positioning to get ready to lift the casket.

You all as one lifted the casket draped with the flag and walked in a steady march back out of the aircraft, eyes forward, while everyone remained silent, saluting or with a hand over their heart.

Joel put his hand over his heart and let Mrs. Mackey hold onto his arm as she cried softly watching the ceremony, hand clutching her heart as her son came out of the plane.

Once he was loaded into the hearse you all turned your feet inward to face each other and slowly brought your arms up to a salute and stayed that way until another officer closed the hearse door and it drove away.

Once he was outside of your vision, you were all put at ease, everyone walked away but you felt your knees buckle, so you squatted down and touched the ground, trying to ground yourself, give yourself a moment, “He’s home… the hard part is over.” you whispered to yourself.

Joel saw you and for a moment worried you were ok, but then you stood up after a few moments, eyes distant yet focused, and shook out your hands and rolled your shoulders, something you commonly did to shake out any anxiety. He knew you just needed you were dealing with a lot on your right now, he wouldn't be surprised if you were inching towards a panic attack and needed support when leaving. He'd be there though, he was ready.

You walked over and signed some paperwork and then walked over to Reggie's commanding officer and told him that you chose to bury him in the military cemetery which he had offered you yesterday. He nodded and advised he would be transported there in 2 days, that he would call you with details for the funeral or any services you may want to do as there would be a 21-gun salute there.

You nodded and shook his hand then were handed a folded flag, with his dog tags, something the family of the fallen soldier would get when they were greeted by the casket of their loved one, however since you were carrying him, this was given to you now.

You looked down at it and closed your eyes, gripping it in your hands, cursing under your breath as tears threatened to spill.

You saluted the commanding officer with tears in your eyes then he walked away.

You sighed softly, and looked at the tags, running your fingers across them. You then put his dog tags over your head and looked down at them around your neck, you’d give these to Terrence when you saw him, they belonged to him.

You turned around and tucked the flag under your arm and began walking back to the group of people. You met eyes with Joel and he nodded at you, mouthing ‘Reggie’s mom…’ then nodded his head towards her, the closer you got.

Your eyes went wide and you rushed over, “Mrs. Mackey?”

She smiled, “You must be Sargent Y/N…” she had tears streaming down her face, “It’s so good to meet you.” she held out her hand for you to take.

You took her hand, “Ma’am I’m so sorry for your loss… I…” you brought the folded flag out from your arm and held it out, “This belongs to you…” you looked at her.

She nodded and gently took it, “T-thank you for bringing him home…” she said through tears.

You shook your head, “I had no idea you’d be here… you… I’m so sorry.” you looked at Joel, “How did you know he passed? They told me I was the only one on the paperwork.”

“Reggie had someone call me from his camp. Gave them my number and told them if he didn’t make it back to call me, said a mom should know when her kid…” she choked up, “A mom should know when her child dies.”

You teared up and nodded, then pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back.

She held onto you for dear life, sobbing into your chest. You looked up at Joel and sighed softly.

He leaned down and kissed your head.

You pulled back after she let you go, “The commander I spoke with said you were making arrangements, is that true?” she wiped her eyes with a tissue.

You nodded and put your hands in front of you respectfully, “He’s being buried in a military cemetery, they are giving him a proper burial in 2 days. I don’t want to step on your toes, so if you’d like you can plan it or you can help me, I’m fine with whatever you are ma’am.” you touched her arm softly.

She nodded, “If it’s ok with you, I’d like to help…”

You nodded, “I uhm… would you like to come over to our home? I’ve got things I need to do today for it, call some people, you could start on some of the basics, flowers, stuff like that?”

Joel came up, “Do you live here ma’am? If not, you’re welcome to our guest room.” he put his hand on the small of your back.

She nodded, “I came in from out of town. I have a hotel though.”

You shook your head, “No, you’re stayin’ with us, cancel your reservation. Reggie would never forgive me if I let you stay in a hotel alone.” you rubbed her arm.

She chuckled and nodded, “Ok if you insist.”

Joel cleared his throat, “We insist.” he smiled, rubbing your back softly, and you leaned into him.

2 days later

You had called Terrence and his mom called some other friends and family about Reggie’s passing. By the time the funeral came around, about 30 people had shown up to honor and remember him.

That morning of the service, your alarm went off at around 6 am, you rolled over and snoozed it, covering your head with a pillow and sighing.

Joel woke and chuckled at your reaction, “Not feelin’ it today?” he said with a voice low with sleep.

He turned on his side and gently ran his fingers up our bareback when you didn't answer back.

You peeked out from the pillow at him, “This sounds horrible but I can’t wait for this day to be over.”

Joel leaned his head and got under the pillow, kissing your nose, “I get it, death can be exhausting.”

You smiled softly and nodded, “Yeah, it's exhausting, I’m just ready to have things go back to normal.”

Joel kept rubbing your back, “Me too, sweetheart.”

You touched his cheek and leaned in, kissing him softly a few times, “Can we do something this weekend? I don’t know, go see a movie, go out to dinner, or just get out of the house?”

He smiled softly, nodding, “We will, already have some plans.” he winked and kissed your lips gently before sitting up and getting out of bed.

“Wait what do you mean, you already have plans?” you put the pillow off of you and sat up, smiling.

He chuckled, “Exactly what you think it means, I made arrangements and we just have to do them.” he stood up and started walking to the bathroom.

You got out of bed and followed him, “What are the ‘arrangements’..." you mimicked his southern drawl and used air quotes, "...can I know what they are?” you stood in the doorway, watching him wash his face, smiling.

He shook his head and laughed lightly, “Nope, it’s all a surprise.” he looked at you and winked.

You crossed your arms, and pouted, “You’re no fun.”

He chuckled and turned around as he dried his face, smiling at you, “How about a small hint?”

You perked up and nodded eagerly, “Deal, spill it.” you bounced up and down on the balls of your feet.

“It has to do with the messages I sent you when you were in Delta 42… when I answered your letter back.” he came over and took your chin in his grip and pulled your lips to his, making you dizzy with a slowly deep kiss.

You blushed and kissed him back, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck until he pulled back, “Good hint, I’m still clueless because that was a lot you sent me…” you pecked his lips.

He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, mesmerized by your beauty, “Quiero ser la razón de tu felicidad.” (I want to be the reason for your happiness.)

You looked up at him confused, touching his hand on your cheek, “You already are…” you smiled, trying to find his eyes.

He smiled and found your eyes, “I know…” he gently pulled you close to his lips, saying just above a whisper, “I just… Eres mi todo…” (You are my everything)

You melted in his gaze and smiled against his lips before threading your fingers through his hair and pulling his lips to kiss yours.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, like he was taking his time.

You pushed yourself against him, pressing your chest against his, kissing him more heavily, panting, pulling him by his shirt closer to you.

He moved his hand down to your waist to pull you closer, pressing you up against the bathroom wall, then moved his hands so he was picking you up by pulling your legs up around his waist, pressing you against the wall.

You let out a moan and moved your lips down to kiss his neck, fingers combing through his hair and down his bicep.

He grinned and swallowed, “Fuck…” he groaned feeling you kiss his pulse point.

You smirked against his skin then you both jumped hearing a knock on the bedroom door.

“Terrence is here!”

You groaned and sighed, “T you’re a fucking cockblock…”

Joel chuckled and put his head against you for a moment, catching his breath, “I’m gonna have to have a word with him…” he set you down slowly and smiled down at you, eyes full of lust and love.

You smiled shyly, “Finish this later?”

He nodded and kissed you gently, “Always, mi vida…”

You kissed him back and then shouted back at Sarah, “Tell him I’ll be done in 10 minutes, please!”

“Copy that.” she said through the door and you could hear her run down the stairs.

You got ready in your uniform once again and Joel got ready in a black button-down and dress coat with some dark wash jeans.

You all got to the cemetery about an hour later. You, Terrence, and Maria all in uniform performed in ceremonies such as the 21-gun salute, and Terrence passed the flag to his mom that was taken from his casket and folded in a triangle during a special flag presentation ceremony before they lowered him down to put him to rest.

Mary asked for you all to speak, and share stories of Reggie. Maria went first, shared memories of Reggie and her playing stupid pranks on you and Terrence, how at first we swore he hated us because when we met him we laughed at his name, for which Maria had to explain the joke between her and you, earning some laughs and smiles from friends and family.

Terrence chose to go next, he shared stories of Reggie’s bravery, how he always had his head on straight while Terrance would always be the anxious one between the two of them. He shared how guilty he felt when he got to go home and felt wrong to leave him there. He cried as the last time they spoke Reggie mentioned coming to meet Terrence, come crash on his couch… plans that would never come to fruition. He called Reggie his brother from another mother, and that he’d never get over how little time they had together.

He stepped down and it felt like everyone turned to look at you.

You swallowed and took a deep breath. Joel was holding your hand and kissed it softly, which gave you what you needed to stand and walk to the podium putting your hat under your arm while you walked up to stand by the microphone.

You had written some notes and had them on a crumpled paper inside your hand. You uncrumpled it and read through it, remembering what you wanted to say.

You cleared your throat and exhaled, “Sorry, I’m not a good public speaker, so you’ll have to forgive me if I drop backward up here from pure anxiety.” you chuckled nervously and joked.

The crowd chuckled and then you looked down at the casket, now lowered into the ground, you teared up and then looked at Mrs. Mackey, “Reggie to me was the kind of person that was willing to jump through hoops of fire for you. He was kind, brave, strong, and like a little brother to me.”

She smiled and wiped away tears.

“I uh… I got into some trouble when we were deployed, got into a fight.” you looked down shyly then back up into the crowd, shrugging, “The other guy deserved it, but still... A fight is a fight. You still get a lecture in the army.”

Maria nodded, remembering, chuckling to herself. The rest of the crowd chuckled and waited for the rest of the story.

“Reggie wasn’t even there when it happened. But he vouched for me. Told our commanding officer I wouldn’t just fight someone for the hell of it.” you looked at Joel, he smirked, and you smiled, “You had to really piss me off to get what I gave that day.” you chuckled and looked at the crowd, “And that guy…” you shook your head and let out a small laugh, “He tap danced on the wrong nerve that day.” they laughed softly.

You looked down at his casket after calming your laugh down, “I still got yelled at, but I could’ve gotten a lot worse if it wasn’t for him and his loyalty.” you sighed and tsked your tongue.

“He was always there for us.” you chuckled and looked at Mrs. Mackey, Maria, and Terrence, “He was for sure the annoying little brother most of the time, pulling pranks on us, hiding our shit, pinning us against each other half the time…” you chuckled and so did everyone else.

“But he was our little brother…” you said softly, choking up, tearing up, “...and I wish with every fiber in me that I could have changed this outcome for him.” you clenched your jaw and balled up your fists, looking down at the casket, breathing becoming heavy, tears falling.

You cleared your throat and rolled your shoulders, straightening up, moving around the pulpit, and standing over his casket, “I’ll see you again little brother, but not yet.” you smiled and let a few tears fall. “Keep Z company… and raise a little hell up in heaven for me.” you knelt and took something out of your pocket, a picture of the four of you and Z that you had taken on your disposable camera, setting it on the casket and gently patting it before standing and saluting him for a few seconds then putting your hand down and taking a breath in, closing your eyes for a moment to let it out, “Roohash shaad…” (Rest in peace in Dari)

You nodded and smiled down at the casket and then returned to your seat, taking Joel’s hand and nodding, letting him know you were ok.

A few other people shared their thoughts and stories then the pastor said a prayer before they dismissed everyone to leave.

Mary came over and hugged you, “Thank you for all you did, for making this happen for my sweet boy.”

You nodded and hugged her, “Please keep in touch. I think Reggie would have wanted that, you know?”

She nodded, “I will. I will visit often too.” she looked at Joel and winked, “You take care of her, yeah?”

Joel chuckled and kissed your temple, putting his hand on your back, “I will ma’am…”

She smiled and then left to say goodbye to Maria and Terrence.

Joel kissed your temple again and pulled you in for a hug, “What do you say we order some takeout and have a movie night, hmm?”

You nodded against his chest, “You had me at ordering take out…” you chuckled pulling away as he took your hand.

He kissed it and then started to walk with you to the truck, smiling to himself, humming softly a song that played on the radio on the way there.

You looked at him and chuckled, you had no idea why he was in a good mood, but assumed it was just because this was all over and you both could get back to your routines.

You had no idea it was due to the ring he took out from under the bed every night when he got home from work to ‘change’, telling himself he couldn’t just go down to the kitchen and propose, he had a plan, and this weekend, it would happen.

Previous chapter - Next chapter

a/n: ya'll the next couple chapters ... ahhhh! what are your ideas for how he's going to propose!?

taglist: @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen @pedritosgirl2000

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futuremrscameron · 17 hours ago

Note

What would your vision of a more mature Outer Banks show look like?

if i could link all my rants or conversations with moony i would but i’m too lazy to look for them all so i’ll give you the bullet points

morally gray pogues. let jj kill to protect his friends, the pogues closer to juvenile delinquents/ a gang that swindle tourons or steal beer from gas stations, harass kooks and tourons for seemingly no reason, the list goes on and on.

keep in the scene where jj delivers shit to rose and she pays him to sleep with her. obviously they wouldn’t show it but it would be a great way to show just what the pogues have to do to survive and really dial up how predatory kooks are not just financially but in every way possible

have one of the pogues betray the others to protect themselves or their family at one point. ties back into morally gray characters and having nuance like maybe the betrayal was to keep themselves out of prison or someone they loved was threatened or maybe it’s out of spite

acknowledge that ward is abusive and a villain. the show treats him like he’s better than luke and that he’s just misguided or just needs to be saved by the love of his children. he talks down to rafe at best, and slaps him around at worst. puts sarah on a pedestal but like most men in her life when she doesn’t match up to that version of her he has in his head lashes out (physically in s2 episode 10). and last but certainly not least he ignores wheezie, the one who primarily needs his parenting and affections. idk if the show wants us to root for his redemption or it’s just the writers favoriting the camerons but they’re squandering a perfectly good villain.

just have the show be about outer banks quit the traveling. i can excuse them going to the bahamas for the gold cause dug the cameron’s are rich white folk of course they’re gonna hide their shit on a island or in a foreign country but outside of that keep the show in obx. like moony said the island itself is a character so that’s where they should be. i thought s4 was gonna fix that when the gentrification plot was revealed but nope! more treasure. the treasure isn’t even the problem cause i loved the gold and cross plotline but el dorado? morocco? please.

explore classism. for a show about the haves and have nots they barely scratch the surface of what separates the kooks from the pogue besides “they have money and they’re cruel” like BOOOO give me more. don’t you wonder why jj is still living with his fuckass dad? why hasn’t cps taken him to the cops arrested his father? bc they know jj has no one else, no money, and would probably rather stay with his dad. john b’s running from cps arc was cool til they dropped it.

explore antiblackness. if the pates and burke have a shit about black people pope kelce and cleo would’ve gotten a lot more to work with. i don’t even think they realize rafe hate crimed pope so i can’t be surprised but goddamn this ties perfectly into the classism at play in obx. classism and antiblackness go hand in hand so it wouldn’t be that hard to have a storyline about the heywards being better off than jj or john b but still getting disrespected for being “poor” or “uppity” (antiblack) and not “knowing their place” or have pope tell the pogue’s that just cause he has a fraction more than them doesn’t mean shit and he has more at risk than any of them. he’ll have kiara talking about the micro aggressions she dealt with during her kook year (looking at rafe and crew). speaking of rafe why the fuck is kelce friends with them. is it a can’t beat ‘em join ‘em mentality or better them (pope) than me or is he genuinely a black white supremacist. WE DON’T KNOW. cleo is from the islands and while there’s no shortage of black people there colorism still exists. she’s a dark skinned girl who lived in the street til recently and had to do whatever it takes to survive gee i wonder who she could relate to. also that old white guy in s4 was being blatantly antiblack and xenophobic to her but they went nowhere with that cause of course

rafe and barry lore. now listen this is not just me fujoshing out, this is about figuring out what the fuck these two have going on. who got rafe into drugs? how did he meet barry? how long has barry been selling to rafe? recently? (no) since he was a teenager? (most likely) cause that creates some gross implications and raised eyebrows at barry, makes him look more predatory than he already is (i mean he’s a drug dealer you gotta prey on weaknesses and what not) why do these two get a long to some extent? rafe gets to crash at barry’s and i won’t say it’s cause barry likes him at most (in s1) he’s amused by him s2 on is another story but i won’t get into all that here. they’re no fezco and rue but they definitely have a bond

while we’re on the topic of rafe please diagnose that mf. “there’s always been something wrong with him.” “he’s sick.” he’s mentally ill, stop dancing around it i beg. i know he’s not canonically anything but the signs point to BPD and the people agree so get to it. also have it genetic on his mom’s side and that’s one of the reasons why ward is so scared to acknowledge it or get him help cause that makes it real and he won’t lose his son like he lost his wife. creates intrigue, nuance, drama, empathy for rafe and ward.

queer characters. they should already be in the show but alas. jj queer, kiara queer, barry queer, sarah queer but doesn’t wanna admit it, rafe queer but homophobic, give me range yk?

call out characters’ misogyny. sarah cameron is obx’s number one victim of misogyny, my sister is scared of getting close to people cause she knows when she opens up and isn’t the person they thought she was they’ll lash out (ie; all the men in her life). john b and topper switch up on sarah when she isn’t the perfect girlfriend, not the cheating, just not the devoted girlfriend that’s on their side 24/7z kiara is victim #2 of course. rafe spews nothing but vile misogynistic language to and about sarah and objectifies kiara. ward is possessive of sarah and wants her under his thumb. pope is cold to kiara after she rejects him and jj is #weird to women. (this is probably the writers not picking up on it, having “better things to worry about”, or trusting the viewers to clock it)

amazing ask by the way thank you for letting me yap about my vision

#asks <3

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coulsons-fullmetal-cellist · 2 days ago

Text

Your Vampire: Chapter Two

I Feel Pretty

(Max Phillips x f!reader)

Words: 1, 341

Summary: Max Phillips, your friend and boss, is surprised to find out you know he’s a vampire

Warnings: a whole lot of vampire lore in this chapter, no y/n, reader has nickname Garland, Max in a state of undress

Check out masterlist here

“How do you know so much about vampire lore?”

“It’s called reading.”

Sitting across from you on his luxurious couch while talking about being a vampire was not something Max was expecting today.

When he opened his luxury coffin from the floor in his basement, he was surprised to find you standing there. He was more surprised you didn’t run off screaming or fainting dead away. You stood there very calmly for one confronted with a vampire.

“So, I’m a vampire.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I-wait, you do?”

You shrugged, “It wasn’t that hard to work out.”

He made his way out of the coffin, “Brains and beauty; always knew there was a reason to love you. As my executive assistant.”

“Hey, everyone else is too dumb to notice.”

“Huh,” he closed the door in the floor. “You’re not scared I’ll kill you or something?”

You looked at him in his dark red silk pyjamas, “If you were going to kill me, you would have done it by now.”

“Good point,” he suddenly noticed you were standing in his basement. “Wait, what are you doing down here?”

“I was exploring.”

“You are supposed to be resting,” he gently picked you up like it was nothing. Now you knew that it was due to his being a vampire.

“Now, it’s either the bed or the couch.”

“Actually, I need the bathroom.”

“Fine,” he headed towards the bathroom, you still in his arms.

“Hey, I’m fine to walk the small distance. I don’t need supervision in the bathroom.”

Thanking him as he put you down, it suddenly occurred that you have been festering on the couch for too long. You lifted up an arm and gave yourself a sniff.

“Damn, I need a shower. I must stink!”

“You smell like roses to me.”

Snorting out a laugh, you made your way into the bathroom.

One shower and change of clean clothes later, you poured yourself a bowl of cereal and plopped on the couch. Max came down the spiral staircase now in his suit pants and shirt. He sat opposite you on the couch.

“So, you’re a vampire,” you said after a while.

“Yup.”

“Was that after college?”

“Well, after I was kicked out of our college, I went to this one in Romania. They had a unique approach to learning.”

“They turn all their students into vampires?”

“Not all of them, just their best students like me,” he smiled. “It’s surprisingly hard to turn people into vampires,” you looked at him in confusion. “If you do a normal turn, you’ll end up with a lesser vampire, they’re called ghouls. Well, we’re not allowed to call them ghouls anymore. They formed a union back in…”

“Max, you’re rambling.”

“So a true vampire,” Max continued. “Is one that can pass as a human and they are a lot harder to make.”

“It is? So if I wanted to be a vampire,” you started.

“You want to be a vampire?”

“If I wanted to be a vampire,” you reiterated. “How would I go about it?”

“Well,” he paused and got up. “Do you mind if I get myself something?”

“No, go ahead.”

“Do you want tea? I’ve got Darjeeling or green.”

“Sure,” you watched Max as he wandered about the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge and took out a bag of blood from the now-not secret location. He took out two mugs and filled one with blood and put a tea bag in the other.

“You’d need to get a vampire with at least one hundred years on them. And they would have to be assessed. And you’d have to undergo a medical and psychological assessment. So, there’s a lot of paperwork involved. And I hate paperwork.”

“I know, that’s why I do all your paperwork.”

“That’s why I love you. As my executive assistant,” He put the mug of blood in the microwave and turned on the kettle.

“There is another way to make a true vampire,” The microwave pinged as the kettle whistled

“There is?”

“Yeah, it’s some old vampire legend that says if a vampire finds their blood-mate, they can become a true vampire.” His back was to you, but you could still hear him.

“A blood-mate?”

“It’s like a vampire soul mate.”

“That’s a dumb name.”

“I know.”

“So how do you know you’ve found your vampire soulmate? Are there matching birthmarks?”

“There’s signs I’m sure, but it’s just a legend,” he coughed something that wasn’t stuck in his throat, and handed you a mug. “Wait, wrong one.”

He took back the one in your hand and handed you the right one. After he took a satisfying sip, he continued. “Anyways, you must be bored with all this vampire stuff.”

“Oh no, I’m very fascinated. I’ve got a million questions for you.”

“Are you going to interview this vampire?”

“Heck yeah.”

“I should have made a PowerPoint,” he mumbled.

“My first question is: do you have a reflection?”

“Of course, I’m not missing out on seeing this gorgeous face in the mirror.”

“Can you turn into a bat?”

“And ruin this suit?”

“Wait, I’ve seen you out in the sun? Would that not hurt you?”

“Oh my dear, you are thinking Nosferatu, not Bram Stoker.” You tilted your head in question. “Sunlight only harms a lesser vampire but merely weakens a true vampire. Midday sun is the worst which is why I avoid it.”

“So no tropical vacations for you?”

“I wouldn’t be sunbathing. You can enjoy the sunshine while I stay in the shade.”

“Taking me on a tropical holiday, are you?”

Max shrugged and put his empty mug on the coffee table. “Why not? You deserve a tropical holiday.”

“I do. And I’ve got some vacation time saved up,” you mused at the thought of. “So, to continue the interview: Can you cross running water?”

“Of course I can.”

“Don’t you need soil or something?”

He paused the knotting of his tie, “How do you know so much about vampire lore?”

“It’s called reading.”

He made a noise that he was impressed. “No, we don’t need our native soil to slumber in. We just need to sleep close to earth during sunlight hours to replenish ourselves. Besides, transportation of soil involves a lot of paperwork.”

You bemoaned his hatred of paperwork and continued, “What about the counting thing?”

“What counting thing?” He started putting on his shoes.

“The one where to stop a vampire, you spread out a bunch of rice or something and the vampire is compelled to count every grain until the sun rises.”

“I have never heard of that one.”

“That’s why The Count on Sesame Street counts everything.”

He popped his head up in surprise, “Are you comparing me to a Muppet?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.” He got up and started putting on his vest and suit jacket.

“So what about the silver thing?”

“The silver thing?”

“The silver thing in that it repels vampires.”

“Oh, that was just a rumour created by a vampire.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, I think they had stock in silver or something and wanted to make it valuable, so the rumour was created.”

“That’s wild. It’s like those people who created the myth that diamonds are special.”

“They are a girl’s best friend.”

“No, Max, I think you’re my best friend.”

“Really? Me?” He shook his head. “I have to go into the office.”

“Aw,” you whined. “But I have more questions.”

“All in good time, my pretty.”

As he was leaving, he kissed the top of your head. It was such a quick, casual gesture neither of you noticed it until it had passed. There was a delay in the realisation for both of you. Max momentarily forgot where he left his keys, even though they were in its usual place. And then he forgot where he left the front door, but he made it out eventually. You didn’t notice as you just sat on the couch feeling confused but also content.

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Lovingly tagging @chaithetics @cevans-is-classic @galaxyedging @letsgobarbs @peepawispunk @missladym1981 @kirsteng42 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @ericamarie093 @yorksgirl @popcornforone @allthe-ships @clowncummiess @ellenmunn

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips x f!reader #bloodsucking bastards

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w0nderland · 1 year ago

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I asked my advisor for a bunch of time off and he approved it but he is NOT happy with me

#whatever #I’ll just put my head down and work hard #it’ll blow over #but he is an intimidating guy #but also the way PTO works in academia kind of sucks #“i don't expect students to come in the friday after thanksgiving”#no shit sir that is an employee holiday. that is a day we ALL get off #so?????#i am taking 12 days of PTO which is about half the days i legally get #but it works out to me missing 3.5 weeks because it's 12 days + weekends and holidays #but like....12 days is not entirely entirely insane. and i'm not going on vacation over the summer #but i am shakinggg that conversation went about how i was expecting. and i expected it to go: poorly #whatever i'll move on i just need something else to think about

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puckpocketed · 2 months ago

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Sharks 2024 11OA draft pick Sam Dickinson got featured in NHL.com’s CHL roundup. I’m putting it here for archival purposes <3 if you have a minute, please enjoy reading about Dickie bullying the shit outta children in the OHL during his D+1 year!!

Published December 1st, 2024 (link) CHL notebook: Sharks like what they see in London defenseman Dickinson, by Adam Kimelman.

No. 11 pick in 2024 NHL Draft 'just wants to be the best that he can be'

photo credit: Wild Ave. Photography

Sam Dickinson certainly had a solid season in 2023-24, finishing fourth among OHL defensemen in scoring and helping London reach the Memorial Cup championship game.

But he also had to deal with the pressure every player feels in his NHL draft season. But those feelings were alleviated when the San Jose Sharks selected him with the No. 11 pick in the 2024 NHL Draft.

A more relaxed Dickerson has his focus solely on playing, and the result has been a dominant start to the season.

Dickinson leads OHL defensemen in goals (13), assists (27) and points (40) in 23 games. He's tied for third in the league in scoring among all players, and is tied for the OHL lead with eight power-play goals.

"It's obviously a little bit of a different season, maybe a little more relaxed not having to worry about some of those [draft-related] things," Dickinson said. "But for me, it's always just been about focusing on hockey and kind of not really trying to let the outside noise and the outside stuff kind of get into my head.

"So I think that's been a big focus for this year, leaving the outside stuff for a different time, not worrying about it, especially when I'm showing up to the rink for practices, for games, whatever it may be. Just kind of leaving the outside noise, focusing on myself and on the team, and just kind of worrying about hockey and the London Knights and how I can help the team win as many games as possible."

Dickinson has done most of that with his offensive ability. He had 30 points (eight goals, 22 assists) during a 13-game point streak that ended Nov. 24. He has at least a point in 20 games, including a six-point game (one goal, five assists) in a 6-5 win at Saginaw on Nov. 23; it was the first six-point game by a defensemen since Pavel Mintyukov for Saginaw on March 11, 2022.

It also was one of Dickinson's 10 multipoint games, and he has two hat tricks.

But more than the offense, the Sharks have been impressed by other details in Dickinson's game.

"Obviously you want players to put up numbers and be successful," San Jose director of player development Todd Marchant said, "but it's some of the little things that we've been working on with Sam, with going back for pucks, on retrievals, shoulder checking and those sorts of things that you really need to have if you want to play in the National Hockey League."

Marchant and the Sharks development staff were able to but a plan in place for Dickinson earlier than other prospects because they were able to watch him last season.

"In a player development role you don't get a chance to see the players a lot usually in their draft year, but we did because we had another player in London in [forward] Kasper Halttunen," Marchant said. "So when he was available to us at No. 11, we were ecstatic. We were very, very happy."

Dickinson is just as happy to be part of what San Jose is building with a young core that includes forwards Macklin Celebrini, the No. 1 pick of the 2024 draft, and Will Smith, the No. 4 pick of the 2023 NHL Draft. He got a preview during training camp, when he got into two preseason games, and is hungry to do what it takes to get even more as soon as next season.

"Getting in those preseason games and all that, it was an unbelievable experience, and kind of gave you a bit of a realization of really how close I could be to potentially playing in San Jose and in the NHL real soon," Dickinson said. "I think the big thing for me when I was getting in those games was taking everything in, seeing the speed, the strength, the physicality, how fast the game is played at that level. It was huge for me to kind of play at that speed and play at that level. A big thing for me was when I came back [to London] was continuing to play at the speed and at the level that was played in those preseason games."

The Sharks have seen that and more from Dickinson and are just as excited about his future.

"The National Hockey League has the best players in the world, and that's something that every young player strives to get to," Marchant said. "Sam is no different. You look at some of the things that he's able to do, both from an offensive standpoint and a defensive standpoint ... he's one of those guys that just wants to be the best that he can be every single night. And we're seeing that firsthand."

#sam dickinson #san jose sharks #london knights #obsessed with the way he says he realised how CLOSE he was to playing in the NHL…. usually they say how far right??#like ‘oh it just makes me realise how far i’ve got to go. i’ll put my head down and work hard’ etc.#your usual canned media response or whatever #and he’s like. well i would like to keep playing with the same speed when i go back. CRAZY #anyway he’s very charming in media if no one has taken a look at the ldn knights socials #he’s like. their entire feed i swear 😭#p!res:archiving #puck!research #p!res:defenders #edit: is it ethical that i left in the typos??

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trevisos · 2 months ago

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rotating Scenarios in my mind but have no ability to actually write them. truly evil

#the only thing i can write rn is lucanis getting his brains fucked out and i can’t do that at work.#not in the middle of the office.#i’m rotating so many juicy post-game lucanis/magpie arguments about the first talon situation #i mean honestly neve also argues with them about this. bc she has the only realistic solution (Stop Being First Talon lmao) but #i have a specific scenario in mind neve wasn’t present for….#however it’s one of those things that’s nothing without the context of the ~2 years before and ~1 year after. LOL #i just think. well. lucanis and neve are both convinced that being first talon will get lucanis and magpie killed #but lucanis doesn’t see a way out of it #and magpie doesn’t see getting out of it as an Option #and because she’s who she is that means the only option is getting through it #and Not Dying.#which puts lucanis in the middle of a lot of conversations he doesn’t really know how to handle when he’s getting wildly different opinions #from the ppl he trusts the most.#idk i just think this is so juicy.#and i can see the arc of his whole multi-year drama in my head #but making it into words? well #that’s hard.#lmao #AND ALSO I STILL DONT KNOW IF NEVE IS BLIGHTED. grey warden neve counting the years until she dies and having to wonder if she’ll out live #her partners anyway is like. a different vibe from regular neve watching this all go down #i’ll make a final choice once i finish playing her romance #i’m leaning toward her getting blighted bc lucanis being left entirely alone for the weeks magpie is trapped in the fade is so good #but we’ll see!#漫言 #datv spoilers #r. make a mercy of me

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neo-nomatrix · 8 months ago

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EAT IT UP !

HOW THE JJK MEN EAT P*$$Y

Multiple x reader

-> GOJO, NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, SUKUNA, CHOSO

warnings ⚠️ smut… duh. pussy eating… duh. 69 in getos. talks of bondage. talks of choking (on dick) overalll smut idk

GOJO SATORU AKA “kid in a candy store”

On his tummy, feet in the air, humming. His legs are swaying back and forth but you’re way too busy to notice. He’s looking up at you with those unmistakable eyes watching you fall apart on his skilled tongue. His hand use your thighs as handles and makes out with your sloppy, cute cunt. He’s trying to tease you but the words come out as gurgled mumbles since his mouth is basically superglued to you.

You’re throbbing on his lips and he slurps it up like honey. Sometimes he dips his fingers in but usually sticks with his mouth. Fucks his tongue inside of you and he’ll probably start gagging because of how far he gets. He has to hug your thighs when you cum because of how squirmy you get. Nips at your clit when it’s all sensitive and giggles.

“You’re so fucking cute squirming”

“Oh wow… feels that good huh?”

“Is this how it feels when you gag on my cock?”

NANAMI KENTO AKA “use me like a chair”

Wants all your weight on his face or else he’s not happy. And no- it’s not an option. Maybe you’ll suffocate him, but who’s to say that’s not the goal? He cups his hands around your thighs and pulls you down on him, immediately getting to work. He’s so sensual and romantic about it. Slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. Definitely kisses your clit before starting anything.

Gathers a whole bunch of spit before and globs it onto you. There should literally be bubbles when you get off of him. Tries his best not to snake his hand down his pants so he can focus on you. As much as he loves you grinding down on his face he always stops you. This is for him to do all he work, he should be making you feel so good you don’t need to think about grinding down.

“Let me do all the work, just sit there.”

“I know i’m hard, sweetheart. I’ll get to that later.”

“Stop hovering, do i need to tie you up?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA “this is for him”

Even though it’s an activity meant to pleasure you, it’s for him. For him to melt away his worries into your sweet cunt. He uses it as a stress reliever, massaging your ass like a stress ball. will literally ask you why you were squirming so much, it disturbed his peace.

Never stops after you come. More flavor for him. Has you on your tummy, he’s spreading you apart and eating it. His hands are never still. Always running up and down your back or playing with the skin of your ass. Moves up to grope your tits and play with your sweet nipples.

“Put your face into the pillow and bite if it’s to much”

“You take my cock every day but my mouth is too much?” oh wait, that’s also too much

“Maybe i should leave some marks on this ass too.”

GETO SUGURU AKA “34 + 35”

SixtyNine KING. Can’t decide between being on bottom or top. On bottom he can get the pleasure of you sitting on his face. The only downside is your squirming with so much pleasure that you forget to suck his cock. He doesn’t care that much, eating you out is plenty of pleasure, but it would be nice. But he does hate it when your strokes get sloppy and they become borderline teasing.

On top he gets the added bonus of fucking your face. Thrusting in and out of your moaning mouth as much as he pleases. He loves hearing you choke while slurping you up. He just doesn’t like the blood going to his head while eating you out. He’s pretty simple when it comes to pussy eating. Loves to suck on your clit and use his fingers. Definitely makes you lick your own cum from his fingers. Finger fucks you until his hands are pruned.

“C’mon baby, at least stroke me baby. Look how hard he is for you.”

“I know it’s so much, huh?

“That’s fine, i’ll just throat fuck you with my cum soaked fingers,”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA “stop running”

Eats you out until you’re rolling around on the floor. And still keeps going. He hates it when you squirm, but also doesn’t do anything to stop it. Locks his arms around your thighs and presses a hand against your tummy. Sloppily eats your cunt with no technique. Spits soo much on it. The noises that come from your cunt and his mouth are insane. Dips his tongue real deep into your mess to get every drop.

Has you on the verge of passing out when you cum. And you guessed it, still won’t stop. He definitely pushes your thighs to your chest and wraps his arms around your whole body to keep you still. Loves it when you push on his head in desperation. It makes him so much harder.

“You keep fucking running and I’ll go for longer.”

“You’re only making it worse for yourself by squirming.”

“Fucking take it or I’ll make you.” yeah he definitely makes you

CHOSO KAMO AKA “kitten licks”

He eats you out like he’s scared. He’s so fascinated by your slippery pussy that he unintentionally goes super slow. Giving soft kisses to your clit and licking at your entrance like a popsicle. You have to tell him to go a little harder so it feels better. and once he does, no going back.

Starts to eat it like a starved man. He gets so mad he’s never done this before because he’s in heaven. Ruts his cock into the sheets because it feels so amazing. Moaning like a slut into your pussy. So much spit and his tongue is going wild on your pussy. He’s definitely making this apart of your routine.

“Oh my god it’s so wet baby.”

“Faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry…”

“It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?”

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classyrbf · 2 months ago

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PART 2 OF PRISONER!GETO

prisoner!geto who can’t stop thinking about late at night, getting so worked up and horny, the most horny he’s been in a while. He’s pulling his pants down, closing his eyes while he pictures the way your scrubs clung to your body and showed off your ass. He thanks god he doesn’t have a bunkie or else he’d be in a real awkward position. He purposely gets into another fight a week later, the wound on his lip opening back up. He’s smiling to himself as he gets walked to the infirmary knowing he’ll see you there.

“Not you again,” you sigh.

“Told you I’d see you soon, doctor.” He sits on the small bed, watching as you put on gloves and examine his busted lip. He can tell you’re avoiding eye contact with him, trying your hardest to ignore his stares and slight touches. “Have you thought about my offer yet?” He asks.

You gulp, blinking as you rub the ointment over his wound. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play stupid, but you remember your last conversation so clearly. It makes you nervous. All he does is laugh.

“Come on. I’ll even beg.” He grabs your wrist, slowing pulling it down, a smug smirk on his handsome face. “You telling me you haven’t thought about it once since we last seen each other?” He whispers. He parts his legs, pulling you in between them. And god, you smell so good. So sweet. He could just eat you up right here.

You stand there, unable to form words because as much as you want to say no, you want to say yes. He makes your heart race and your pussy wet. What a sly bastard. With his stupid tattoos, muscles, hair and chiseled face. You hate how much effect he has on you.

“Listen,” he rubs a hand down your waist, “meet me in the supply closet by the showers during lunchtime if you’re really down.” He flashed a smile before standing to his feet and walking out the infirmary. “Bye, bye, doctor.”

Come lunchtime, you walked through the halls of the prison, mentally cursing at yourself. It’s just one time, one time. You bet he won’t even be there, that he’s just playing a stupid joke cause he’s bored with himself. And as you reach out to open the supply door, your heart beats against your ribcage, looking around to find the halls empty. You step in, seeing him leaning against the wall, the faint rays of light allowing you to make out some of his features. “Well, look who it is,” he chuckles. “Came here to help me out, doc?” He walks over to you, trapping you between him and the door.

“Shut up already and let’s get it over with.” You smash your lips on his, kissing him with such urgency and fervor. His large hands grab at your ass, squeezing and groping it as he pushes you against the wall, knocking a few things over. You both pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen. “We gotta be quick,” you whisper, undoing his jumpsuit while he pulls down your pants.

“More eager than I am, huh?” He teases, earning an eye roll from you. “Come here.” He bends you over the small wooden table, snatching your panties off and getting a good feel of your ass. His dick jumps, pre cum already leaking from the swollen tip. He’s already so worked up, so ready to feel your wet and tight cunt. “Fuck,” he grunts, running his head over your sopping slit, nudging your clit slightly. “Already so fucking wet.”

He pushes his throbbing tip past your folds, a small gasp leaving your lips when you feel how thick he is. Inch by inch you feel the stretch, you mouth agape as you try and grow accustomed to his size. Geto’s entire body shivers, his fingers pressing into your skin so hard you’re sure he’d leave marks. “Ohhh shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. God, it’s been so fucking long since he’s had some good pussy and he can already tell he won’t last long. He finally bottoms out, feeling your walls clench around his length, sucking him in. “My god,” he laughs in your ear. “Lemme just enjoy this feeling—fuckkk—for a moment,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut.

He finally starts moving his hips, feeling his tip press against your cervix with each thrust. With each passing second, he gets faster, fucking your harder and rougher, your pussy has got him in a trance. “Pussy feels so fucking good,” he grips your hips, pulling you back towards him so you can meet his thrusts. One of his hands reach around your throat, gripping it just enough as he pulls you back against his broad chest. “Do you fuck all of your patients or am I just special?” He jokes.

“Mmmm…shut—ah—up!” You cry out, whimpering when he presses up against you, finding a new angle that makes your eyes roll back. “Just keep fucking me,”you say with a raspy breath.

“Doctors orders.” He can feel the way your pussy leaks, your juices dripping down his shaft and make his cock ache like never before. It almost hurts. He hold you tighter against him, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room. “You take it so well,” he breathes against your skin, pressing wet kisses to your neck. “So fucking well.” His thrusts grow sloppier, chasing his own orgasm. But in the distance, he hears the guards walking down the hall. “Shh, shh, shh.” His hand covers your mouth, his thrusts becoming slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of his cock, every vein, every pulse before hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.

Your eyes squeeze shut, trying your hardest to keep quiet, the guard getting closer and closer. Their keys jingle with each step and their voices grow louder. “Atta girl. You feel how fucking deep I am…shiittt. Keep fucking squeezing me like that—yeah, yeah you’re gonna make me fucking cum.” His brows furrow as he bites down as his bottom lip in attempts to contain his moans, but his abs tense up and his entire body shakes before he’s filling you up, stuffing you with his sticky, hot cum. “No, no, don’t you dare move. Just like thattt, oh yes!” His eyes roll back, still cumming. His pushes his cum deeper inside of you, feeling it leak back out before he finally pulls out.

Geto truly wishes he could’ve had more time with you. His mouth drooling over the mere thought of how you taste, wanting to make you cum on his tongue, but for now he’ll have to settle for this. “You came inside me, asshole!” You pull your pants back up, turning to face him.

“Couldn’t let it go to waste.” He reaches out and stroke your cheek. “Right?”

“Whatever.” You swat his hand away. “Where are my underwear?” You look around the dimly lit room before realizing he was holding them.

“I’ll be keeping these for later,” he swung them in your face before stuffing them in his pocket.

“You’re such a pervert.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You have my cum running down your leg right now.” He places a finger under your chin, tilting it towards him as he leans down and kisses you slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before catching your bottom lip. “Mmm, thank you, doctor.” He smiles before kissing you once more.

You push him off of you, trying to process everything you just did right now. It was so wrong but it felt so right, so good, so intoxicating. “If it makes you feel any better, I get out in six months.”

“No. This was a one time thing.” You place a hand on his chest, shaking your head.

“Was it? Cause I don’t think it was. Not with the way your pussy was squeezing around me. It was almost like she was made for me.” He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes searches yours, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Yeah…it definitely isn’t the last time.”

#—☆classyrbf #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x reader smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader smut #geto drabble #geto smut drabble #jjk smut drabble #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader smut

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gutsby · 1 year ago

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Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

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