#Surprisingly I do see other shows

[dreadful-luck]

GGS TEAM PAST!!!

[br1ghtestlight]

trying to look for fandom character analysis content or at least JOKES and GIFS in a fandom that's literally 95% y/n fanfics/prompts or thirsting after the same 3 characters is literally worse than being trapped in hell I DONT CARE IF HES A SUB OR DOM IF U DONT ANALYZE THEIR PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS RIGHT NOW SOMEBODY IS GETTING THE BULLET 🔫🔫

[neo30deck]

Okay so this is a fic I'm currently working on. It was birthed from an idea that I came up with in the comments of the work this one was inspired by.

Go check out 'here with me', it's a pretty good fic.

I will be taking a lot of canon material from both the shows and comics, and mash them together to create a plot.

I'm choosing what to keep and what to get rid of basically.

[wolfwarrior142]

hii um this may sound totally weird but i was just wondering, and you totally dont have to answer if you're not comfortable, but was it really hard to do the schooling to become a nurse? did you have to do any residency the way doctors do? did you have to do a lot of hard chemistry classes in school?

im just a college student who's trying to switch majors and i just needed some advice and i keep seeing that you're a licensed nurse and you can totally shut me up now.

again dont answer if you're not comfortable, no worries!

Hello! Oh it's totally fine to ask! Nothing wrong with it at all. I'm no expert on this and may not give the most helpful or concise answer, but I will try my best. And you're more than welcome to also message me to ask more about it, I'm happy to say what I know (and imma post this so other people who may be curious can read it too).

I'll be totally honest. Nursing school is worth kt for those who are interested in the field, but it is also extremely taxing to most people. Depending on your school, you will take 1-2 years of prerequisits, then 2-4 years depending on if the school has an associates or bachelor program. If the school has only an associates program, you will most likely need to complete 2 years beyond that school to earn your bachelor's. Most hospitals prefer or even require RNs to have a bachelor's degree, so unless you work at facility that's desperate for staff or don't want as broad of job options, you'll need the bachelor's. So that's 4 years in actual nursing school, plus 1-2 years of prerequisits if you don't already have some done.

For what prereqs you'll need, that depends on your school. Chemistry was by far one of the hardest prereqs I took, and statistics suuuucks. I'm usually decent with math, but stats has SO much word problems that it's just as much deciphering written problems as it is math. Its very confusing, and the teacher I took it with was new so she didn't have the best grasp on explaining stuff yet. Definitely recommend finding someone to work with in that class cuz you may need the extra brainpower to figure shit out.

Anatomy and Physiology really depends on where you go. Some places have great teachers for it, some have decent ones, some have teachers that make you wonder if the teacher only got their degree so they could torture and shit on students (I had the latter. Our teacher's average class grade was a C. When she started, most people failed the class. And she was proud that her students had such low grades. She made it seem like it was out fault, despite the fact that basically everyone had shit grades in her class. I'm pretty sure I somehow passed with a low B and I hated that class).

That's only some of the prereqs, there are many more and they depend on the school. Thankfully a lot of schools are good about transferring credits between institutions, so if you took the class at a different places the credit should still be mostly good.

Now for the actual program. Do objective research on what nursing school is actually like, preferably from people who have actually done it. Look at multiple sources. Ask students at the place you'd take it at if possible. Get an idea of what it's like. Then think on it for a while and decide if you're willing to deal with that.

Nursing school is tough. It kicks your ass. It changes you as a person, both by making you more nurse-oriented and just as a person in general. It is very worth it, but it is also very intense and taxing for most people. If you are truly hesitant on if you want to pursue it, don't. At least not for right now. I'm serious. Nursing school takes a ton of work, and if your heart isn't in it you may have an extremely hard time passing. Or may not pass at all. And if you are any kind of neurodivergent, you'll likely have an even harder time. Trust me, I know.

Most nursing teachers are nice or at least chill. Some are mean. Some are absolute assholes. Doesn't mean they won't be beneficial, but they may make things harder for you. If they offer to help, then take em up on that offer when needed. There's a lot of things that take a lot of practice and studying to understand, and if theyre willing to help explain shit, that can make it easier. Besides, we were taught early on that being curious and asking questions and vital for nursing. You'll ALWAYS be learning new things, no matter how long you've been a nurse. And while you're in school, teachers who are willing to help you when needed are lifesavers. But be prepared that most of em will not help a ton as they do not want to hold your hand.

Find friends to study/work on stuff with. Figure out your learning style (hearing, reading, writing, hands on, a combo, etc). Develop a studying technique, and be prepared that you may need to alter it. Be prepared to spend most of your days engrossed in reading stuff for classes, as otherwise you're not gonna learn enough and you'll struggle. However, youtube videos from credible sources can really help.

The tests are brutal. They're different than most tests. There's literally a whole textbook made to help you figure out how to properly understand and answer NCLEX questions for a reason. There's a whole damn process on how to answer NCLEX questions. There have been many times where while answering questions at work for training (questions that are given to Medical Assistants (MA) as well as nurses), my MA coworkers will be confused by the question and why there's multiple right answers. And I just laugh and say "Oh I can immediately tell from the style of this question that it was written by an RN in NCLEX style. I'm so sorry." Questions on nursing tests are a whole other breed of questions, and that's because they help your brain think through things in a way that is beneficial when dealing with real pts. Which is useful, but also a pain in the ass.

You will HAVE to get used to understanding the process of stuff rather than just memorizing a single answer. Rarely are questions just about remembering a simple answer. They're mostly about understanding a process of how something works, and using that knowledge in the context of the question to answer it. If that makes sense. Like I said, nursing school rewires your brain. And when it actually works and you realize you're able to think about stuff and process it in that way, it is SO rewarding.

There's a lot. Nursing school is intense. Like I said, if you're truly hesitant and have strong doubts, don't commit to it for now. You have to be truly determined to give nursing school your best shot to start it, because if you're hesitant then you're mentally not gonna be as prepared as you should be to complete it. You still can, but it'll be difficult as shit and there's a solid chance you may not be able to.

I HIGHLY recommend getting a job in healthcare first if you don't have much experience with as a healthcare professional and are hesitant on if you want to do it or not. You can earn your CNA license, or go a step above and earn your MA license. Then work in a setting where you get to utilize that license. Then if you do decide to advance to get a nursing degree, you'll have a major leg up as you'll have medical knowledge and experience that will be very beneficial. Besides, many programs require students to earn a CNA license first, so you'll probably have to anyway.

There is nothing at all wrong with waiting a few years to get into nursing school. Tbh, a lot of my classmates were in their mid to late 20s or older and they seemed to have an easier time than us younger people did. They had their head on their shoulders better. They had an easier time focusing in school it seemed. Plenty of my classmates were also my age or younger and also did very well, but it really seems that being a bit older helps for a lot of people in nursing school. And the more prior medical experience they had, the easier it was for them.

I will fully admit that I didn't complete Registered Nursing school. There were multiple things that made me withdraw when I did. But I completed enough to obtain my Licensed Practical Nurse license (in my RN program, it's the first full year and first quarter of second year, as what is taught there is essentially equivalent to what an LPN class it). So I didn't finish yet, but I'm still making use of what I did learn. And after a few years, I plan to complete an LPN to RN bridge course. Currently I'm working as an LPN in a clinic to help build my knowledge in prep of that, and because my LPN license is still extremely useful and shows that I did at least something. Doesn't stop the absolutely raging imposter syndrome, but at least I am still a nurse and have something to show for what I did complete of nursing school (I withdraw close to the end of 2nd quarter of 2nd year, so after almost 5 quarters in. Just 1 quarter shy of a full RN license, which sucks, but I was struggling SO bad).

Do research. A lot of it. Look into what nursing school is like and what is required at the school you want to go to for it/at the school you're currently at. Nursing school is not for the faint of heart and it is not an easy degree. Some schools are a TON easier, but those schools tend to also not teach their students as well and produce people who have a harder time passing the NCLEX as a result. My program was very tough to get into, with hundreds of students applying each year and only 150 being chosen. And they grilled us HARD. But the harder programs tend to also produce more knowledgeable nurses. Hell, I passed my PN-NCLEX first try after only having to complete half the test before the computer program determined I didn't need to do anymore because of the score I already had (there's an algorithm that runs during the test that gives you harder or easier questions depending on if you get them right or wrong, respectively, and eventually it ends the test early if it determines that you've answered enough that you'd either pass/fail the rest of the test if you were to finish it. If that makes sense. It's super cool). And I hardly studied before the test because I was a nervous wreck (thankfully you can take it multiple times with not penalty except cost, which is SO comforting). And I like to think that the way my program taught us helped me have an easier time passing. Compared to some other people I know, who completed their whole nursing program from other schools and had to take the RN-NCLEX multiple times before they could pass it. The programs that are easier to get into are also easier to complete, which is SO nice, but they'll also probably leave you less prepared for the standardized state NCLEX test and nursing in general.

Still absolutely nothing wrong with completing an easier program, tho. You can only learn so much in nursing school and you leave it with only a basic knowledge of nursing in general. They cram a LOT into your brain and make you drink it from a fire hose, but there's SO much about nursing that is learned after you graduate. And you'll always be learning. ALWAYS. So the program you choose is only a starting point. Just your choice which one you go for.

I'm sorry, that's a lot. Nursing is a LOT. There's a reason why one of the phrases I adopted and used a TON in nursing school was, "It'll be worth it in the end, but god at what cost." (Also started and still frequently use "It's better to be safe than sorry.") It was tough, and I'm not super looking forward to when I complete my RN degree. But for those who are determined enough, it is so, so worth it. Its impossible to know what it'll be like until you're there, but just know it takes a lot of determination and accepting that it'll kick your ass. Your life will be Nursing School Only while in the program. You will leave a changed person. But if you're willing to do it, especially after doing some of your own research into it, I highly recommend it. It kicked my ass but I don't regret it for a second, and I definitely want to complete my RN at some point.

I'm driven to help people and have always wanted to do something in a medical field (animal or human), and nursing is one of the main ways I saw myself doing that. And even with my LPN license, I'm still in a position to help people. I have helped some people and always strive to do so when possible. I have no regrets. And despite how hard it is, I highly recommend at least considering it if it speaks to you as well. It is not a light, easy decision, but it's a worth-while one if you choose it and set your mind to it.

[variousqueerthings]

who's the black dwncompanion???? i'm genuinely curious bc i've only seen pics/news about that blonde girl that looks vaguely like rose

i didn't seeya there. yeah, I got corrected, yasmin finney is playing rose tyler (in some way, we shall seeee), so not the new companion. new companion is... yeah... looks vaguely like rose. lol

[thanoskin]

you belong to me

Pairing: Frontman x Reader

Summary: you’re the daughter of a volatile VIP, you draw the frontman’s attention during your visit to the games.

Warning: Smut (+18), Rough sex, Degradation kink, Age gap, Fingering, Dom! Frontman, Sub! Reader, vaginal fluids, overstimulation, Pussy slapping, Unprotected sex, no aftercare.

Word count: 1519 words.

The air was heavy with the scent of luxury-imported cigars, fine leather, and expensive cologne. You sat on a lavish velvet couch in the VIP lounge, nursing a glass of champagne that had gone warm in your hand. Around you, the other VIPs laughed and cheered as they watched the carnage unfold on the massive screen before them.

Your father, one of the most notorious and impulsive of the VIPs, sat at the head of the room, reveling in the chaos below. His booming laughter grated against your nerves, but you kept your expression neutral. You'd learned long ago how dangerous it was to show any weakness around him.

Still, the games didn't hold your interest. Not like they did for him. Your attention drifted instead to the enigmatic figure known as the Front Man, the creator of the games.

He was always there, silent, observing, his black mask concealing his face but not the sharp intelligence in his movements. You'd caught him watching you more than once, and though he never said a word, you felt the weight of his gaze.

Tonight was no different.

You glanced up, and there he was, standing at the edge of the room, his posture rigid, his presence commanding. Even surrounded by the chaos of the VIPs, he seemed untouchable, untamed.

Hours later, it was finally lights out.The VIPs eventually retreated to their private quarters, leaving you alone in the grand lounge, your father was too drunk to notice you were still around. The silence was a relief after the overwhelming noise, but it didn't last long.

"You shouldn't be here alone."

"I'm not afraid of being alone," you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

He stepped closer, his boots echoing softly against the marble floor. "You should be."

You raised an eyebrow, meeting the dark void of his mask. "Is that a warning?"

"It's a fact," he said, stopping just a few feet away.

"Your father isn't the only dangerous man here."

You set your glass down, leaning back against the couch. "I think I'll take my chances."

The Front Man tilted his head, studying you. "You're not like the others," he murmured.

"No," you said, your lips curving into a faint smile. "I'm not."

He didn't respond, but the weight of his gaze was palpable. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence crackling.

"What do you want from me?" you asked finally, breaking the stillness.

The Front Man stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "What makes you think I want something?"

You stood, closing the distance between you.

"Because men like you don't get involved unless there's something in it for them."

He chuckled softly, the sound distorted through his mask. "Maybe you're right."

His hand came up, the black leather of his glove brushing against your cheek.

The touch was surprisingly gentle, and it made your inner thighs warm.

"Careful.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you thought he might pull away. But then his other hand slid to your waist, drawing you closer. His mask pressed against your forehead, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you both.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured.

You didn't. Instead, your fingers moved to the edge of his mask, your breath hitching as he allowed you to lift it just enough to see his lips.

The kiss was slow at first, testing, but it quickly deepened. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips moved against yours. The weight of his mask and the secrecy of the moment only heightened the intensity.

He pulled back, his breathing uneven, his voice rough. "My quarters. Now."

The room was stark, utilitarian, a sharp contrast to the opulence of the VIP lounge. But it didn't matter. The moment the door closed behind you, he was on you, his mask discarded, his lips capturing yours with a ferocity that left you breathless.

You clung to him as he backed you against the wall, his hands exploring, his touch possessive yet careful, as if he were afraid you might vanish.

"You don't belong here," he murmured against your skin, his voice raw.

"Neither do you," you replied, your fingers tangling in his hair as he chuckled at your innocence.

His lips trailed down your neck as his hands slid beneath the fabric of your dress, and he gripped your ass, hard, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Suddenly, he lifted you by your hips and tossed you on the bed, not giving you a chance to breathe as he crawled on top of you like a predator hunting its prey. You were face to face with him now.

He slowly pulled off his mask to reveal an older, handsome man with dark and determined eyes. You kissed him deeply, almost savagely, he let you for a couple of minutes before placing his hand on your throat, pinning you beneath him.

You whined softly, your breaths ragged as you adapted to his strong grip. He let you go, his hands now roaming over the thin fabric of your dress, and tracing over your hard nipples.

“You’re not wearing a bra…” he whispered teasingly, and you blushed as he removed your dress.

He stared at your naked body, ignoring your horny whimpers as he ran his hand through your wet folds. You moaned softly as his thumb grazed over your clit. He smirked teasingly and began to use slight pressure as he moved his thumb in a circular motion on your sensitive ball of nerves.

You moan and writhe, attempting to close your legs from the pressure. Suddenly, you feel two cold fingers enter your aching hole, and you gasp in surprise.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

He asks, his gaze curious and intense, causing you to look away.

“Answer me when I speak to you.”

You feel his fingers curl against that spongy spot, and you cry out.

“Yes! Please don’t stop..” you begin to squirm, moaning uncontrollably as he continues to curl and thrust his fingers into your virgin hole.

You dig your nails into his back and start to get louder and louder, your moans desperate, and your pussy soaking wet.

Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out and begins to remove his belt, staring at your sprawled and exposed form.

“I need your cock please.” You murmur, and he doesn’t reply, he tosses his belt on the far end of the room and removes his pants and underwear, crawling towards you again. His cock wasn’t too big, but wasn’t too small either.

You found yourself terrified, but your arousal only grew as you stared at his hard, throbbing cock.

He roughly grabs your thighs, spreading them wide, digging his nails into your sensitive skin, causing you to whine.

You closed your eyes and he immediately pinched your inner thigh.

“Open.”

Your eyes flew open at his command, and you whine as you feel his tip against your throbbing clit.

“Look at me while I take you.”

you obeyed, he began to enter you, and you hissed and cried out from the pain. He didn’t respond, but you were grateful for his patience, and his gentle touches as he stroked your legs while he broke you in.

Suddenly, he hit a spot, causing you to moan loudly. He began to thrust quickly, causing you to moan uncontrollably.

“oh fuck!” You cried and used your free hands to try and push his shoulders, desperatey feeling the need to cum already.

he growled and pinned your hands above your head, his strong hands nearly breaking your wrists as you moaned loudly and sobbed.

“Look at me!” He shouted, he was panting, his eyes locked into yours as he fucked you mercilessly.

“I’m gonna cum!” you cried out, trying to close your legs.

“Don’t you fucking….”

you squirted all over his cock, and he stopped moving inside of you. He sighed and pulled out, and you’re rewarded with a harsh slap to your clit.

“You cum when I tell you to, not a moment before that. Understood?”

You cry and before you can respond, he enters you again, pinching your sensitive nipples and tugging the skin as he fucked you hard, and fast.

“Fuck…” he whispered, before pulling out and panting.

He yanks your legs apart again, only to rub your throbbing clit, with force and speed.

You’re overstimulated, and on the brink of cumming.

“Please, let me…” you cried and moaned.

“Come on, squirt all over my fucking hand.”

You squirted hard and he groaned in delight as you coat his fingers in your juices.

“Such a good little…”

He groaned again, kissing your thighs. You’re exhausted and sore, you lay limp and spent, your eyelids suddenly heavy, and before you knew it, you hear the rustling of his clothing being put back on, and the door closed behind him.

[aphelionwrotes11]

MDNI 18+ (not edited)

Part 2

Trucker!simon, who finds himself a lovely bird at a local truck stop he often runs through on his usual routes.

Sits his massive self at the bar on one of the small stools, glaring at any of the blokes who stare at you a bit too long.

Gives you a blank look when you check up on him, asking if he’d like anything else.

“Just anotha’ cuppa, sweet’art” he always says, sliding his mug towards you, which looks microscopic compared to his massive hand.

You think he doesn’t like you, considering he doesn’t ever talk to you much when you try to make small talk, but he always leaves you a fat tip. You figure he’s just quiet. He can’t dislike you that much considering how many times you’ve glanced over your shoulder to see him gazing appreciatively at your ass.

It’s an especially rowdy night at the truck stop that finally breaks the camels back. A real gentleman decided he wanted a feel of you. So he didn’t hesitate to grab a handful of the fat on your backside, his table and him whooping and hollering as you squealed and slapped his hand away, glowering at him as you scampered away to the bar.

You held back tears as you started up another pot of coffee, never were the confrontational type. This wouldn’t be the first time a man had taken it upon himself to put his hands on you, but it would certainly be the last. Considering how Simon was sat at the end of the bar; shaking with rage, his knuckles white from being clenched tight as he stood.

It all happened so quick you didn’t even catch it, you back had been turned. The restaurant went from ruckus, laughter, and loud voices, to silence after the sound of a sickening crack rung through the room.

You turned just in time to see the asshole’s friends jump from their seats and go for your favorite regular; Simon. The handsy asshole laid flat on the ground, out cold.

It took no time at all for Simon to lay out the other three, he was twice each of their size in pure muscle, and obviously lacked nothing in skill. Once he was done he simply turned to you, pointed to the back room and said,

“Go get yer things.”

You didn’t think twice. Passing your manager who stood in the doorway, face solemn. You asked him quickly if it was okay for you to leave, he took one glance at Simon and nodded his head. You grabbed your things, throwing on your coat and met Simon at the door.

He takes your arm, surprisingly gentle for his huge form, he looked enraged. His shoulders tense, brows furrowed, you’re certain if he didn’t have a mask on the lower half of his face he would have a deep frown on his lips.

You thank him softly, following him as he leads you through the full parking lot. He says nothing, staring ahead. You tell him you don’t live far, you can just walk.

“No, you’re not doin tha’.” He says, and you don’t argue.

Helps you into the cab of his massive semi, getting into the drivers side and turning up the heat.

Offers to get you some food, “haven’t seen’ya eat a bite ol night, bird.”

You refuse, thanking him for the offer, telling him you’ll eat at home. You probably won’t, your stomach is still all twisted from earlier, if he can tell you’re shaken up he doesn’t show it. He just nods.

Takes you to the corner of your street, wouldn’t be able to drive his truck down the narrow road. You thank him again, asking him if there’s anything you can do to repay him.

“I know’a few things you can do for me, bird.” He says lowly, you feel your cheeks warm at the implication. You ask him what he wants. He grunts, glancing to the side as if he’s thinking.

“Gimme a kiss.” He says, tapping his cheek. Your eyes widen, is he serious? Out of all things he could ask for, he asks for just a kiss on the cheek? You shocked to realize you’re disappointed he didn’t ask for more.

He pulls his mask down to his chin, revealing his chiseled jaw and thin, scarred lips. You lay a trembling hand on his giant thigh for support as you lean over, and just as you are about to meet his cheek he tilts his head and has your mouth. Pressing a heated kiss to your lips.

It takes you a moment to catch up, but before you know it you’re in his lap, making out sloppily, mouths open and tongues swirling together. You sigh into his mouth, cupping his jaw as his hand cradles the back of your head.

When you start grinding yourself against him is when he stops.

“Not yet, bird. Gotta take you out first, do it the right way.” He says. The right way? What the hell.

“Take ya for dinner, treat ya real good, take ya home and fuck that sweet pussy halfway to heaven.”

He cups your ass as he whispers that nasty shit in your ear, one hand on your hip as he bucks up once against your wet heat. You let out a whimper and he just chuckles. Asshole.

Jumps out the truck and helps you down with two strong hands on your hips. Walks you all the way to your front door, smiling at your peeved expression. You were definitely gonna have to rub one out once you got inside.

Gives you a sweet peck on the cheek, gripping your chin with his thumb and finger.

“Be here tomorrow a’ seven. Wear something nice.” He says softly before turning and stalking off into the night. Leaving you flabbergasted on your front doorstep.

Note: I dunno if you guys can tell but im incapable of writing anything small. This was supposed to be just a short little thing about how sexy trucker!simon would be but i got so carried away 😭 he’s the ghost that haunts my nights, can’t get him outta my head

Simon Riley master list

[fable-x4]

Doing this because it makes me happy •Ꮂ•. Im making it difficult on all of you though.

1 note- I'll go drink water

10 notes - I'll set alarms to actually care for myself

50 notes - set up a daily productivity system so I stop wasting my time doing nothing.

100 notes - ask my friends to help me buy a skirt

500 notes - get a bra & a whole bunch of other affirming clothing !!!

1k - tell my dad that my gf is also trans

2.5k - ask my dad to address me by my prefferred name & pronouns 1k went pretty poorly, so I dont feel super comfortable making an attempt on this.

5k - try to get therapy/psychologist

10k - girl mode at all times (start actively wearing makeup/clothing/doing voice training around people at all times)

50k - try for HRT (0% chance) (also no guarantee on this one)

Asfgg. It feels surprisingly good to have a bunch of strangers who want me to be happy

I have now set up alarms for eating, waking up, and hygene related stuff. I seriously doubt we get to 500, but this has made me significantly happier •Ꮂ•

Doing some math... 25 notes in 4 hours. 6.25 notes per hour. 8000 hours or 333 days until this hits 50k. Hrt in a year ig.

Um. Wow. Its been a day, and we're almost at 300. Everything 500 & below was supposed to be things I'd do with minimal intervention. But now, we're getting to the scarier stuff. I am very intimidated, but also excited

My gf really badly wanted to be here when I buy some of the clothing, so the skirt will be this week, the rest of the clothing will be when she comes back from vacation

Saying that you're force femming me is so not allowed. This is unfair. You have no right to make me feel the ways Im feelingggg. Stop making me happy.

Welp. I told him about my girlfriend. And things went about as poorly as expected. He said that Im parroting what other people think. Slowly taking little parts of them, and applying them to myself. Specifically, being trans. He didnt even leave it to maybes. He said with certainty that I was copying everyone else. I know 9 trans people total. Only 2 of them are my close friends. Everyone else, Im barely aquaintences with. I should have told him that regardless of whatever theories he has, this has boosted my confidence massively. Slightly less excited for 2.5k notes. At least everything after that is very positive. And at least this lets me talk about my girlfriend for ages. I dont have to say her deadname through gritted teeth. Oh context. He already knows Im trans but was ignoring it.

I GOT A SKIRT!!!!!

Thank all of you so much. At first when I got the skirt, I was pretty intimidated by the idea of showing my legs. I thought everyone will just see me as a man. But there's a degree of confidence you all have given me. Yeah. Im pretty. Yeah, Im beautiful even. Yeah. Its a friggin fantastic skirt. And anyone who thinks otherwise is dumb. Im happy, and thats what matters.

[allurilove]

Calm Yandere x you

“Your expressionless boyfriend.”

Rated 18 + — mature short content!

Includes: calm yandere x talkative gender neutral reader, mutual pining?, strangers to friends to lovers, cute fluff in the beginning… other stuff later on. wink wink. ♡

Calm yandere was known to be a little cold. His default face is an unamused one, the ends of his lips always downward, and it certainly scared you away from him when you first saw him. He didn’t like to socialize as much as you did, and when you talked to him, he only seemed to nod. “Mhm,” and “uh-huh,” was all you could get from him. He didn’t hate nor dislike you— you’re an absolute perfect specimen, and a normal, and adaptable human being. You were everything he wanted to be. You were everything he wanted, period. He started to form a crush on you, and it was a minuscule one at first. He appreciated how you were able to carry a conversation, how bright and confident you looked compared to him, and you were this bright light in his grim dark reality.

Calm yandere was surprised when you made the first move. You wanted to be friends, and being just friends with you felt like torture. Although, he agreed—not wanting to miss the opportunity to be by your side even more. He followed you around, agreed to show up to all hangouts you planned, and he even invited you to his house. His house was surprisingly warm. He had soft white curtains, light pink decorations here and there, and it smelled like freshly baked cookies. Warm and sweet was what you would describe him now that you got to know him. He was the perfect host. He was showing you around the backyard, and he pointed out a couple of butterflies that liked to come by. His voice was flat and monotonous when he explained his favorite butterflies to you, but you could see a slight glimmer of happiness in his eyes. And most importantly, he showed you his bedroom. He had manga books on his shelves, Smiski figurines, and one of the compartments was just filled with snacks. He had an old dog named “Mini” that was sleeping on his huge bed, loudly snoring, and kicking her feet as she dreamt of running around.

Calm yandere had asked you to be his partner months later. You were shocked when he confessed his feelings for you, and here calm yandere was, thinking that he had done a good job of hinting at it. You did notice the glances he would send your way, and how they would linger a bit longer than before. You then started to think back to the times he would do things for you. He would bend down and tie your shoelaces. He gave you his jacket when it was raining, and he would walk home soaking wet. He carried you on his back when you tripped and hurt your ankle. He let you into his house when you fought with your parents, and tried his damn hardest to crack a worried expression on his stone-like face. It wasn’t like you weren’t into him, you tried to give him signals too.

Calm yandere was oblivious, just as you were oblivious. You had literally invited him to every place you could think of. You made pottery with him, and even put your hands on his to help him shape his clay into a vase. That was a very intimate act. An act that made you flustered and blushing when you had pressed your body behind his. Him, on the other hand, didn’t even blink at the action. When you had told him that you found him cute and adorable, he just said “okay.” OKAY?? Clearly that meant he didn’t like you back, and you quickly put on a strained smile and went on with your day.

Calm yandere was an active listener, not really a replier, but a listener. He might look like he was disinterested, but any subject you brought up was the most interesting, and fascinating, topic of all time. You would talk his ear off, and you liked to speak your mind. “So, as I was saying…” you continued. He nodded along, his cheek resting on his hand, and he leaned even closer to play with the strands of your hair. He liked feeling and touching you. It reminded him that you were real, that you were in front of him, and you were officially his. Your lips were perfect, always moving and speaking, and it would form the world’s most beautiful smile. He could tell that some days you didn’t want to hear any solutions from him, and only wanted to have someone to talk too. So, he does exactly what you want.

Calm yandere was happy to advance the relationship even further! He would show finally show some PDA. An arm would casually be slung around your shoulders while you two walked. Whenever you sat next to him, and he didn’t like the distance between you two, he would grab onto the leg of the chair and pulled it in closer. He then would kiss your cheek, and as fast as it came, he had pulled back before you could reciprocate. He knew that being a boyfriend meant that he had to do some certain things… He was feeling bold when he saw you wearing shorts, and without really thinking, his hand reached out to touch at your thighs.

Calm yandere was taken aback by the overwhelming positive reaction. He didn’t imagine that a single brush from his finger tips would cause your brain to go haywire. You had pushed him onto the couch, and he fell back with a little grunt. He saw that you had climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips, and had placed his hand on a sensitive spot of your body. He felt up the flesh, and his fingers slipped underneath your shorts. He kept a watchful eye on your facial expressions, and he hummed in delight when you spread your thighs even further for him. He rubbed his fingers up and down the length of your privates, and he started to collect some of the wet substance that had leaked out. He heard you breathe out his name, and when your voice soon became whiny and you had pleaded for more, he knew you had to be close.

Calm yandere had you on your back. He pulled your shorts down your legs, flinging them to the side after he revealed your lower half to him. He leaned down to greet your sex with his tongue. You were loud and talkative in bed, just as you were out of it. Your back arched, and your hands painfully gripped at his hair. Your body started to tremble, almost trying to squirm its way out from underneath him. His hands had to keep your legs from closing on him, “don’t try to keep me away from you.” your boyfriend said firmly. He then gestured to the growing tent in his pants, “this is all your fault. I’ll make you feel good if you can do the same for me.”

Calm yandere liked to lick his fingers in front of you. His tongue swiping at the salty cum before he fully puts his digits inside his mouth. He could feel the wrinkles and ridges of his pruned fingers, and he gleefully sucked off the excess cum and saliva that had gathered on there. You were lying on the couch with a bit of a daze, your chest rising and falling, and you could still feel his eyes wandering on the work he had done. You had love bites on your neck, trailing down to your inner thighs, and lower towards your ankles. He had bit you down there to keep his voice down while he had himself buried deep inside of you. What could he say? You knew how to press his buttons and drive him wild.

Allure: this is calm yandere after you had called him cute.

Allure: A little update: I’ll work on the master list soon after this, and I’ll have to update a couple of lists such as the yandere kink ones… so that should be done next!

[ambros1an]

sunday x reader - halovian courtship

warning: no spoilers, gn! reader, pining/soft sunday, Sunday info dumping as usual

summary: where Sunday will do everything except confess, and you just think he’s emotionally stunted.

a/n: i read about birds for this

halovian courting rituals

1. Gift giving. Like their close bird companions, Halovians participate in 'nuptial gifts,' a form of gift giving to a potential partner.

You were walking into the Oak Family Headquarters, Dewlight Pavilion, sent to deliver some letters. Although, you’ve been here before, it was still a bit nerve wracking to be in such a place, undetached from your usual position as a lower end employee.

The entrance to Oak Family Head’s office was right in front of you. You bite your lip, shifting the documents to your other arm and knock.

“Nightingale Famil-“

The door swings open. The family head holding the door stands to the side.

“Ah,” Sunday says your name, “it’s you.”

Your eyes widen, blinking a couple times. He remembers me?

“Yes, it’s nice to see you again Mr. Sunday. I’ve come with documents from the Nightingale family detailing a new plan for the dreamscape.”

He looks a bit disappointed?

He chuckles, then calls out to a lone employee, “you’re dismissed for today, I’ll take care of the rest.”

The Oak employee dips his head and leaves. Watching him leave fills a pit in your stomach.

“Mr. Sunday, is something wrong?”

Sunday sits up suddenly, “Oh, no. Not at all.” It’s that movement that makes you realize that he’s been fidgeting with something in his lap…Is he always like this?

“I guess I was just a bit surprised,” he smiles, looking down to the side. You caught him.

“Surprised? To see me?” Although Sunday and you have met a few times. It was always business, just like now—well maybe he did stare a bit intently at you before, but something really was different this time!

He looks up and sheepishly slides a box across the table. “Take it as…being a good part of The Family.”

For a few moments, your eyes set upon him. What is he planning? It’s a small box. Almost nothing could fit in there. You lift the top up.

You gasp. Earrings worth more than your entire life’s salary. You slam it shut.

“M-Mr. Sunday. This really isn’t necessary. I just—“ you ramble on. Sunday places his gloved hand on yours.

“Please, take it.”

Looking into his eyes, you realize that putting up a fight with the Oak Head won’t get you anywhere. You reluctantly take the box.

2. Preening. Similar to nature, touching a Halovian's wings is an intimate gesture to show one's interest in a romantic partner. Someone should never touch a Halovian's wings without asking!

Soon after, you come across Sunday again. This time at the Nightingale Family’s institution. You were putting away blueprints, plans and documents your coworkers left laying around haphazardly. When a familiar voice calls out to you.

“Good evening. Working hard, I see.”

“Mr. Sunday?”

He approached you, then looked around the room. He seemed to realize the situation you were in and scorned your coworkers. He mumbled something about you and moving to the “Oak Family.” As he spoke his wings were fluttering. They looked smooth and soft.

“You’ve been staring at my wings. Do they interest you that much?” He chuckles.

“Well, they are very pretty but—“

“Would you like to touch them?” A light blush spreads across his face. Despite that, he seemed perfectly poised. His hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and looking right at you.

“I-is that alright?” tumbles from your lips. You hesitantly reach out.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

Upon touching them, Sunday’s wings twitched away from you before settling down. The feathers are soft and plush. Some are darker in color while others are more pale. They’re surprisingly fluffy. A bit like fur but more delicate.

The blush darkened, his gaze shifted off to the wall. His composure utterly broken, his hands fidgeted behind his back.

“Did you know that birds groom each other as a social activity? It occurs between…ma-members of a flock.” He sputters. What is he saying?

Your fingers stroking his feathers create a flutter within his stomach. He leans into the touch. Taking that as a sign to continue, you reach farther up, a light brush into the coverts of his feathers. Sunday gasps and pulls away.

“…You must take good care of them. Are all Halovian wings soft like yours?”

He wishes that moment would never end.

3. Song. During courtship rituals many birds of different species tend to sing and dance. While that is popular among Halovian people, some may chose show affection through instruments instead.

One day, a notice appears at your door. Upon examining it you realize it’s an invitation from Sunday, instructing you to his office within the Dewlight Pavilion.

Could it be about the documents you sent him last time? You wrack your brain for any possible explanation. He had been acting weirder than usual.

Heat build up in your face upon recalling Sunday’s recent appreciation for you. The earrings that are far too expensive to wear anywhere, and even worse—you bury your face into your hands. In a profound display of unprofessionalism, he let you touch his wings.

Still, every muscle in your body jittered with excitement, even though it shouldn’t.

♫ ♬ ♩

Suddenly, the closer you got, the more the hallway echoed with the sound of a violin. Slowly, you carefully stepped towards the sound, till you found its source.

Sunday was playing the violin. You couldn’t help but freeze where you were and watch him. He truly did look like angel. As he drew his bow across the strings, the light from the window shined down on him. His hair reflected the light appearing almost white. Was he always this beautiful?

Abruptly, he stands up, “You’re early. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you closed the door behind you, “I didn’t know you could play. What song was it?”

He places the violin down on his table and approached you, “It’s ‘Salut d’amor,’ one of the first pieces I learned how to play,” Sunday put his hand behind his back, “the dream master was the one that taught me.”

“It was very pretty, I can tell you’ve been playing for a long time.”

“Thank you.” A light blush spreads onto his cheeks, but it’s gone before you can realize it.

A loud silence sweeps the room. The two of you avert your eyes. This side of Sunday feels so different from what you’ve been told. He always maintains a professional barrier. But if so, what was this?

Sunday calls your name, “how do you feel about me?”

“What?” The question is so out of the blue, you must’ve heard wrong, “I think you’re a nice guy—“

“I meant as a partner, I thought you knew. Was I not obvious enough?” He mumbles over the last sentence.

“I—well—“ you stumble over your words. He was serious. The earrings, the wing touching, the invitation. You dismissed it as him buttering you up. The ‘most handsome man in Penacony’ as delegated by the latest magazines, had feelings for you?

Your face felt so hot, you felt as if you could combust into flames at any moment, “I feel the same.”

His expression softened. “That’s a relief, I don’t have to cancel those reservations then.”

“Reservations?! Mr. Sunday-“

“Just Sunday. I’ll pick you up later then,” he smiled, then placed his hand near your ear, as if looking for something, “Oh, but this time remember to wear those earrings.”

a/n #2: soft Sunday is real, did u see how protective he was of Robin in the quest? i need more hoyo. feed my delusion

[foolinafable]

family matters

Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader Synopsis: You and Five return after seven years away in a different timeline- but you don’t return alone Word Count: 1.8k Tags: Fluff, No Lila and Five, Pregnancy, Children, Season 4 fix it (kinda) Note: Got so much love on the last one I wrote this! Try to ignore spelling mistakes it's currently 3am.

Stuck with only your irritable CIA colleague Five Hargreeves was anything but a good time. You both got lost at the godforsaken subway station he mistakenly teleported you both to. Travelling for a year by his side certainly mellowed you out. His personality slowly making you feel comforted as you both explored multiple timelines together trying to find your way home.

Surprisingly, the idea he possessed powers was the easiest thing for you to come to terms with, probably due to your job at the CIA making it seem plausible to you that the government does hide a lot- they’re even hiding the whole science of separate timelines.  After around a year of trying and failing to find your way home, you and Five decided to ease off the vigorous schedule you unwittingly created, finding a timeline safe enough to stay in for a while allowing you both to rest and brainstorm ideas of how you could both find a way home to your families. 

You both made a mistake. Falling to know how long a while would be you find yourselves still in the timeline you chose as your ‘temporary’ home six years later. Finding each other a lot less frustrating than at the start of this. You suppose that’s an understatement as you watched Five play with your child, a girl who possessed brown hair and green eyes not too dissimilar to her father’s. It almost wasn’t fair how much her features favoured his. But, seeing his beauty reflected upon her features could never be something you would complain about. 

“Maybe if we get lucky the next one will resemble you more,” you remember his words from a few days earlier when you started to show a hand placed under your abdomen smiling as if this was the greatest gift he could ever receive. But you don’t think it would matter if this one ended up looking like their older sibling and their father. If anything you would prefer it- not that you would ever admit it.

Picking another fresh strawberry from the greenhouse of the abandoned home you now called your own. You placed it into the basket plans to make jam and jelly already filling your mind when you felt yourself begin to flush from the sweltering heat of the sun beating down upon the glass. Your skin heating up to a point of large discomfort, sweat beginning to gather at your temples. You sighed knowing that you couldn't continue to harvest anything else unless you wanted to face Five’s rath over you overheating again. 

“Mom!” Maxine ran towards you eagerly hands encircling your legs as she got close enough for a welcoming hug. She quickly looked up towards you big green eyes staring at you prettily 

“Hiya munchkin” You stroked the top of her hair as she smiled up at you with glee

“What doing?” the three-year-old questioned head titling as she waited for your response 

“Strawberries” was all you replied grabbing the basket to show her 

“Have one?” she asked pointing at the basket, batting her eyes to try to sway your decision. You simply plucked one out of the basket and gave it to her relishing in the delighted smile she sent your way before biting into the sweet fruit. You smiled at her before looking up to meet the other pair of green eyes that had made their way into the greenhouse. Five watched the interaction of his favourite girls softly only moving closer once you looked at him.

“Everything alright mumma?” he questioned noticing your flustered expression from the moment he and Maxine stepped foot in the conservatory

“A bit hot” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders as he drew closer, trapping Maxine in between the two of you as the back of his hand touched your forehead he hummed in agreement with your words

“Let’s get you inside the house, don’t need you getting heatstroke” You forced down the urge to roll your eyes at his dramatics and simply nodded in agreement

“Some cold water and a sit down would be nice.”

He grabbed one of your hands and Maxine’s with the other leading you both back towards the house. After placing the basket of strawberries in the kitchen you quickly sat down on the couch feeling a slight ache in your feet while Five grabbed you a glass of water with more icecubes than you could even count, you smiled in thanks as he passed it to you while Maxine sat next to you, a small children book in hands that she was determined to read to you and her younger sibling as she wanted them to be just as smart as her. 

You could hear Five pattering around the house, tidying up before you could even think about it. Maxine had quickly given up on trying to read, getting bored after two pages and was instead sitting playing with some wooden blocks by your feet. You furrowed your eyebrows when you couldn’t hear Five moving around anymore a stark silence surrounding you now.

“Everything alright?” you shouted trying to figure out where he had gotten to, heart fluttering when there was no reply. Setting your glass down on the table in front of you as you rose from your rather comfortable spot on the couch, you walked into the other room where your lover was his body was stick straight, eyes not daring to leave the notebook in his hand. “What?” you questioned softly walking towards him, eyeing the words on the book as you got close enough.

“This” he began astounded “Is our way home, it’s written by me but I didn’t write this. Another me did.” you simply nodded before smiling  

“Looks like we’re going home.”

── ✧

You and Five found yourselves outside of what he assured you was his brother Diego’s house. Maxine who was resting her head on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his middle looked astounded by the snow while nerves filled you- the last time you saw any of his family was when you were put on the case that got you lost in the timelines to begin with and even then you barely saw his brothers and sister-in-law as they were quickly taken to hq for a show round to get them out of the way. You didn’t even want to think how you would explain this to them let alone to your own family but you guess this is the easier of the two as they all had powers and also been to multiple different timelines. Five set Maxine down next to you as he rapped on the door you quickly grabbed her hand before she could run off into the snow when the door opened 

“You back!” the man, Diego you assumed, smiled as he looked at Five 

“I am” he stared at his brother almost in shock that he had seen him for the first time for him in seven years

“Good” the man confirmed “We were all starting to get worried.” his eyes then turned towards you and the brunette-haired little girl who was trying to hide behind you “And you are?” he questioned and you quickly gave him your name his eyes sparking in recognition for some reason as he crouched to the ground to greet your daughter “And who is this little princess?” he asked quietly as Maxine started at him 

“This is Maxine” is all you said feeling Five’s eyes on you knowing he wanted to wait until you got inside to drop the bomb you could see Diego begin to connect the dots as he introduced himself to you but he was clearly confused because he would know if Five had a child in the last three years in this timeline at least.

“I will explain everything once we get inside- can’t let the missus get cold” is all he said to Diego as the man allowed you into his home. 

He quickly led you to the living room where to sat on the sofa, Maxine being picked up by Five and placed on his lap when she tried to climb onto yours, you turned towards him to complain but quickly stopped when you met his glower instead choosing to put a comforting hand on your tummy a habit you kept from your first pregnancy. Diego called for his wife Lila to come to sit with him when the door opened revealing more of Five’s family he whispered their names to you as they walked in all choosing to sit down when Diego told them that Five was going to explain where he’s been and why his colleague, a word you hadn’t been referred to as in a long time, was here. With most of his family here excluding Ben and Viktor, he cleared his throat to get their attention

“As you all know the marigold has made our powers a little different to what we are used to” They all made sounds of agreement “My blinking takes only to a tube station where each stop is a new timeline and we” gesturing to you “got stuck, unable to find our way back until now. We were away for seven years but for you has only been a few hours” he took their silence as a sign to continue “This is my wife” he spoke your name “And our daughter Maxine.” you sat in silence for a moment.

“Wait! This is the colleague he was always telling us about?” Luther asked excitedly you turned to the larger man confused when Klaus and Allison quickly agreed with him

“I thought he was joking when he said there was a cute girl who he worked cases with” Claire, Alison’s daughter, announced making her mother and uncles laugh

“I can’t believe you have a child” Lila spoke eyes wide

“Well he is going to have another one in a couple of months,” you told the already shocked woman who quickly smiled at the revelation while the others called out congratulations to their brother 

“How far along are you?” Allison asked as she came up to you silently questioning if she could touch the small bump you simply nodded “We think around thirteen weeks” looking to Five who simply nodded

“She only started showing a few days ago”

“I can’t believe it” Luther called out while pulling funny faces making Maxine laugh as she got a little less shy around her family.

You smiled as you watched Maxine get up and walk towards Lilas’ children playing with them as Five’s hand found its way to yours stroking your knuckles. You never thought you could ever get home let alone come back home happier than you had left it. You suppose a thanks was due to your rather irritable husband and his wacky powers.

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

“vickie!” eddie practically screams from his kitchen, rage coursing through him as he stares down at the tabloids spread out in front of him on the counter. “get in here! now!”

eddie’s had an issue with his rage lately. well. he’s had an issue with a lot of things, since he got famous, really. but that’s not his problem right now.

his problem is he’s looking down at image after image of himself on the covers of people and us weekly and entertainment tonight being dragged out of last night’s night club by his own security team with blood pouring from his nose. he looks angry. he looks crazed.

just then, a stranger walks into his kitchen.

“who the fuck are you?” he blurts out at the man, who’s wearing a dark green sweater vest over a white t-shirt and tortoise-shell glasses.

“i’m steve,” the weirdo stalker says, smiling brightly. he has surprisingly swoopy hair for an insane fan. “i’m your new assistant.”

“where’s vickie?” eddie asks, rubbing at the sore spot on his nose. thank god it’s not broken.

“you fired her,” steve tells him. “two days ago.”

“i fire her all the time.”

“ok, well… i guess this time it stuck,” steve shrugs. “chrissy hired me.”

“fucking chrissy,” eddie says under his breath, rolling his eyes. he pulls out his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and speed dials chrissy. “chris, what the fuck?” he doesn’t even give her the chance to say hello.

“good morning, eddie. i’m doing really well, how are you?”

“not fucking well, that’s how i am!” eddie practically yells into the receiver. “what the fuck? did you see the pictures? and who the fuck is this guy in my house?”

“yes, eddie, i saw the pictures.” eddie can hear the eye roll in her voice. “we’re handling it. nancy’s already on it with the team. what was the other thing?”

eddie knows she’s fucking with him and that pisses him off even more. “who is this freak in my house wearing a goddamn sweater vest?!” he feels like a blood vessel in his eye is about to pop.

“hey,” steve protests softly from across the kitchen where he’s started to pull shit out of eddie’s fridge. he didn’t even know there was anything in that fridge.

“that’s not a very nice way to talk about your new assistant,” chrissy’s voice comes loud and clear through the phone.

“christina fucking cunningham, you know i have final say on all hiring decisions when it comes to my assistants.” he rubs at his sore nose again.

“you had final say on all hiring decisions until you fired vickie for the thirteenth time and she refused to come back, even with a three hundred percent raise. we’re going in a different direction now.” chrissy sounds entirely too pleased with herself.

“well, i fucking hate him,” eddie grumbles and watches steve to make sure he’s heard him. steve doesn’t even react, just continues doing whatever the fuck he’s doing with the frying pan he’d found in the cabinet.

“you don’t even know him, eddie. give him a chance. anyway, i have to go, i have brunch plans with my very beautiful, very intelligent, perfect fiancée,” chrissy tells him, gloating, before hanging up on him.

eddie wants desperately to throw his phone across the kitchen, but if he breaks this one that would be his fourth phone in three weeks and he couldn’t bear to have to ask this steve person to go buy him a new one. he settles for squeezing it in his hand until it creaks while taking several deep breaths through his nose.

“what are you doing?” he grits out.

“are you always this rude?” steve asks, ignoring his question.

“to weirdo freak strangers showing up in my house unannounced? yes.”

“it’s not unannounced, chrissy wrote it on your calendar.” steve gestures toward the paper calendar hanging on the side of the fridge where chrissy writes his major life events and which eddie mostly just ignores before sliding a plate full of food toward eddie.

“what is this?” eddie sneers.

“it’s an omelette with cheese and mushrooms,” steve replies, smiling. he’s always fucking smiling.

“i’m allergic to… omelettes,” eddie says, just to be a dick.

“no you’re not. you’re allergic to blueberries and dust.” steve doesn’t stop smiling pleasantly.

“did you get access to my medical records? that’s a violation of my… whatever rights.” eddie waves a hand through the air.

“no, i didn’t go look at your medical records, jesus. i’m not a stalker. chrissy told me when she hired me.”

“whatever. i still fucking hate you.”

“okay,” steve shrugs again. “eat your breakfast.”

eddie has every intention of leaving the kitchen, full plate of food and all, but. he is hungry.

so he eats.

and he’s pissed that it’s actually good.

~*~

eddie spends the rest of the day being a general nuisance to steve any time he tries to do his job. when steve answers the phone before handing it to eddie, eddie “accidentally” hangs up on whoever it is on the hand off & makes sure to blame his new assistant when the person finally calls back. when steve has to drive him to his meeting with nancy and the pr team, eddie tries to give him the wrong directions, but steve’s too smart for that. when steve has to do the grocery shopping, he makes steve go to the erewhon all the way across town during rush hour because the one down the street “just doesn’t have the same vibe, steve.”

and all the while, steve just does his job, still smiling, not getting angry at all even though it’s beyond obvious eddie’s being a little shit to him.

which honestly just pisses eddie off more than anything else today.

“here’s some aspirin,” steve says, placing two white pills on the coffee table in front of eddie, along with a mason jar of water. eddie, lounging on his big squishy couch, pulls the ice pack away from his nose, which has started throbbing again. “you didn’t have any glasses.” steve shrugs when he sees eddie’s arched eyebrow looking skeptically at the jar of water. “if you don’t need anything else, i’ll take off for the day.”

it’s past 8pm already, long after steve should have left for the day except that eddie had made him stay to organize his extensive tshirt collection by color, shade, and design before he could even think about going home. it was an emergency, after all.

“i’ll have to check the t-shirt closet first,” eddie replies, before swallowing the aspirin dry. steve shrugs again and rolls his eyes. eddie would say something about his blatant rudeness, but he’s too exhausted.

eddie pulls himself off the couch and makes his way down the hallway to his “t-shirt room.” it’s so stupid, but he has all this space and he’d started collecting the tshirts so long ago. they’re not worth anything, they’re just his wardrobe but… they remind him of wayne and the thrifting they used to do every saturday morning.

the organization eddie had been having steve do was entirely arbitrary. it’s not like eddie plans his outfits. he mostly just pulls whatever out of wherever, unless it’s an event and then he pays someone to do the deciding and dressing for him anyway.

but. steve’s organized the t-shirts by genre and subgenre and then by band alphabetically and finally color. more than eddie had even asked him to do.

eddie had come in here fully prepared to rip steve a new one, but even he can be shocked into appreciation.

steve notices eddie’s silence and grins.

“can i tell you something?” steve says pleasantly and then continues without even letting eddie respond to the question. “i know i look like a nice polite guy next door that moms totally love—it’s the sweater vests, i think.” steve plucks at his top. “and that’s true. i am a nice polite guy and moms do love me. i’m awesome.” his grin widens. “but i got kicked out of my parents house when i was 18 and i lived in my car for a while. i’ve been on my own for seven years. i made a life in LA out of nothing. so you can throw your little temper tantrums and tell me how much you hate me. you can make me go to the erewhon all the way across town and you can make me look incompetent to my colleagues. but i need this job. i’ve worked hard for this job. this job pays more than any other job i’ve ever had combined. and you’re hardly the biggest asshole i’ve ever met. so you can continue trying to make my life miserable—hell, i’ll even give you my dad’s number, you guys can swap ideas!” steve laughs at his own joke before turning serious for the first time all day. “but i’m not vickie. you won’t make me cry. you can’t fire me. i’m not going anywhere.” he claps his hands together. “anyway, i’m gonna take off, since i have plans with my actual friends. but hey, i’ll see you tomorrow, huh?” and he smiles again, giving eddie a small waggle of his fingers, before heading out through the door.

eddie’s still just standing there in the middle of his tshirt room when he hears the front door slam shut.

part two

[sinner-as-saint]

the alchemy

Mob!Bucky x Reader 

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

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

a/n: new mob!bucky pics dropped–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then that night happened almost a decade ago… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...marry her?” 

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

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

Who was he talking to? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A lot happened after you left, actually–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck do you want?” 

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

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

“You wouldn’t.” 

He scoffed, “Wouldn’t I?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You–,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this was… beautiful. 

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

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

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

“I’m not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t call me that.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want a separate room!” 

“No.” 

“I’m not sleeping with you!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” 

“Good. Let’s go.” 

— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t sleep. 

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

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

“Will you stop that?” 

“I can’t sleep.” You mumbled.

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

“Wow. Some husband you are.” 

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

“What the–,” 

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

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

“I like this better.” 

“I better not find your hands wandering.” 

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

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

“Did I say you can move?” He chided. 

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

“Brat.” 

“Asshole.” 

— 

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No you didn’t. You–” 

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

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

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

“I–,” 

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

Sam smirked triumphantly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— 

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

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

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

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

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

“So I don’t escape?” 

“So you’re always safe.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll never find my girls.” 

“Why’s that?” 

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

“Sounds like you speak from experience.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’re lucky I’m not–,” 

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

You didn’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded. Fuck he looked good from up here. 

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

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

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

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

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

You only whimpered in response. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed. 

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

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

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

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

Damn him! 

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes, “How?” 

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

“You’re delusional, Barnes.” 

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

— 

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

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

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

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

This asshole. 

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

You barely lasted thirty minutes under the covers. 

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

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

You stopped moving immediately. “Shut up.” You muttered, frowning at him even though he couldn’t see it. You could see his faint silhouette in the dark, so you knew when he turned on his side to face you. 

“What is it, wife? You need some warmth on this cold, cold night?” He asked in that mocking tone of his. 

“No.” You answered, lying. Because yes you did. 

He muttered ‘stubborn brat’ under his breath and then grabbed you and pulled you close until your back was completely pressed against his chest. His warm, comfy chest. You bit back a sigh of relief once you felt his body heating wrapping you in a cocoon. 

“I saw you messing with the thermostat.” You admitted. 

“Oh?”

“Yes. You make it cold on purpose.” 

“Oh no.” He mocked. “ Why didn’t you fix it then?” He asked, and it hit you how childish this was. He leaned in just enough so that his lips brushed against your cheek when he spoke. “Could it be that you like cuddling with me?” 

“Shut up.” 

He scoffed, finally wrapping his arms around you, but you hissed upon feeling his metal arm on your body.  

“It’s cold.” 

“Warm it up for me then.” 

“What–” 

You stopped talking the moment Bucky grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on top of his, spreading your legs to make room for his hand as you both remained on your sides, with him spooning you from behind. 

His metal hand found itself sliding into your shorts, past your underwear and he cupped you with such confidence and authority that you couldn’t help leaning into and grinding into his touch. His other hand slid under your pillow and down so he could grab and give your breast a firm squeeze. 

Fuck. His hands felt like they were touching you everywhere. 

“I told you I’d take care of you if you behaved.” He whispered into your ear. “Time for a little reward, wife.” 

He slid two fingers inside you, you gasped at the feeling of him being knuckles deep inside you. You whined as he stretched you a little, moving his fingers around until your hips were moving on their own, trying to get him to move some more. 

He chuckled. “That feels good?” He murmured into your ear. 

His voice, his warmth, the softness of his embrace, the unhurried way his fingers were moving in and out of you, sliding over your clit and stroking your walls like he had all the time in the world. 

Your hands wrapped around his metal wrist, keeping his hand in place as you rode his fingers the way you wanted. Hips moving forward and causing his fingers to slide in and out, while you moaned and whimpered. 

His lips brushed against your cheek over and over again as he whispered against your skin, “See how nice it is when you behave? Hmm? You can have me whenever you want, baby. Just be good for me, and I’ll do anything for you.” 

The animosity between you was forgotten at this moment. Here, in this dark room the past didn’t matter for a few minutes. Nothing mattered, just that you wanted something and he was giving it to you. 

His thumb caressed your clit, teasing it a little more until you cried out, “Bucky, please…” 

He froze. You did too. Then he chuckled and said, “So all is takes is a little finger fucking and now you have manners and you call me by my name?” He sounded just as annoyingly playful as you knew he would. 

“Oh fuck you!” You spat, then immediately let out a loud moan as he sped up and really fucked you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess. “Please, please, please…” 

“What did I say, huh?” He hissed. “Keep acting like a fucking brat and you’ll be treated like one.” He kept his fingers moving in and out of you. “I planned on really taking care of you tonight, but you know what? This is all you’re gonna get.” 

Your moans and whimpers got louder and louder until you began clenching around his fingers, coming undone with a loud cry of his name. Body shaking and your hips grinding down on his hand as you savoured the last moments of your orgasm before he pulled out and pulled away from you. 

You thought he’d go right back to sleep but then you felt him get out of bed. “Where are you–,” 

“I’ll fix the temperature.” He mumbled, sounding annoyed. Rightfully so. “Go to sleep.” 

And that was the last you heard or saw of him until the morning because you passed out right after. You didn’t even know if he returned to bed or not. Not that you cared much. 

Right? 

— 

Things changed after that night. 

A lot changed actually. Bucky had, miraculously, managed to uproot ten years of your life from elsewhere and planted it right here in the city. He took you to the building he’d been getting ready for you and it sure was something. You didn’t know what you expected but a brand new skyscraper was not what you had in mind. 

The day he handed over papers and keys and gave you a tour of the huge building was the first time you felt a shift in this… bond you shared with him. 

“Thank you.” You simply said as you both stepped into the shiny elevator so he could take you all the up to the top floor, to show you to your new office. 

Bucky slid his hands in his pockets and turned to face you. “You think being nice equals sexual favours from me, wife?” 

You could’ve told him to shut it. Or told him to go get fucked. But he was trying to be good to you, wasn’t he? Even after all he did, he wanted you next to him for some unknown reason and frankly you were tired of resisting. Your entire life was here now anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to… try. Would it? 

So instead you answered with, “Doesn’t it?” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, searching for the catch. He didn’t find any so he said, “We’ll see about that.” 

And that night he followed you into the shower and kissed you hard under the falling water. “I see you behaved yourself today.” He whispered against your mouth. 

You pulled him closer by grabbing his neck and said, “Do I get a reward then?” 

He didn’t say anything, just kissed you hard again and walked the two of you backwards until your back collided with the cold clear glass of the shower cubicle. Then he pulled away, looked down into your eyes. His own filled with lust and hunger as he asked, “You’re gonna let me fuck you?” 

You nodded quickly before saying, “Yes. Please.” 

He didn’t waste a single moment. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it to his hip, spreading you open. He kissed you senseless again while he pushed inside of you. You moaned into the kiss as he filled you up, his cock stretching you out, making you whine and whimper as he slow fucked you. 

“Fuck…” He breathily moaned against your open mouth while he moved against you. Pushing deeper, in and out of you until your moans and whimpers got louder and louder. The sound of the water falling from the shower drowned out most of it, so he fucked you until you moaned loud enough that he could hear you over the falling water. 

“Please,” You cried out. Weeks of frustration wanting to be let out. “Please, Buck…” Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, and you held on while he fucked you. 

Bucky almost froze again at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips. But he maintained his composure and sped up into you, feeling your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock. 

“You’ve been good today,” He said, noticing the way you clenched around him hard at the sound of praise. “You didn’t talk back, not once. Is it because you wanted this cock, baby?” 

You whined in response. Feeling his damp skin rubbing against yours, and for a brief moment you wanted to live in this moment forever. 

“Oh, poor baby.” He gave you a messy, heated kiss then said, “It’s all yours, you know? You just have to ask nicely. And you can have it whenever you want.” 

“Please…” You begged again, your pride nowhere in sight. “Please, Bucky.” 

“Come for me, baby…” He breathed against your skin. His hands held you in place as he pounded into you. “Come for me.” 

You did, moaning so loud it was all he heard as he came right after you. 

— 

It became a daily thing over the next few weeks. You’d seek Bucky out at random times during the day or more often right when he’d get into bed at night. 

“Were you good today, wife?” He asked, his hands already moving all over you trying to undress you as fast as he could. 

“Yes,” You breathed into his ear, your hands touching him all over his tattooed chest. “I even made you breakfast, remember?” 

“Those burnt pancakes count?” 

You shut him up by kissing him, pulling him down onto the bed and straddling him, then proceeded to ride him until you were both moaning and spent, too tired to move. 

—

Things got… playful. 

Oftentimes you’d catch yourself wondering why you weren’t actively working to get out of here. But your whole life was here now. Work, your family, and your husband. You didn’t hate Bucky as much as you thought you would. Just a few months ago you wanted to kill him on sight but now… 

“I saw the new building you work at. He bought you that?” Your father asked one morning when you went over to join him for breakfast. 

You cleared your throat and answered, “He did. He moved everything here. My businesses, my staff, all of it.” 

“And the girls?” He asked, referring to the infamous, feared, and fierce army you had raised and trained over the last ten years. 

“My girls are free to go wherever they want to.” You let pride fill you as you thought of them. “Besides, they don’t have to be here for me to know I can always count on them. They’re just a phone call away.” You explained. “Plus they have work to do. People to save, women to recruit. You know, the usual.” 

“I’m proud of you, you know?” 

You smiled at your father. Then a few moments passed and you couldn’t help but ask, “What happened after I left? Where is the rest of Bucky’s family?” 

Your father looked surprised. “He didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

Your father shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. They’re all gone anyway. Plus the boy, he… he treats you right, doesn’t he?” 

You nodded. Then left it at that. You wanted a peaceful morning with your father, you didn’t want to ruin it by insisting he tell you about whatever it was that he wanted to keep in the past. 

—

But it bothered you, knowing that something happened while you were gone that you knew nothing about and everyone refused to tell you about it. 

All except one man. Your beloved friend, Sam. 

He showed up one morning, demanding to see Bucky. 

“He said he has an important phone call to attend to. With someone named Steve. He’s been outside for over an hour now,” You explained to Sam, who stood at the foyer looking disappointed, “It looks like he’ll be out for quite some time.” 

Sam frowned, and sighed. “He said to come over for a round of golf.” He sounded like he’d been betrayed. “Ever since he started doing business and being friendly with that Steve guy,” Sam complained, “That bitch has been trying to steal my best friend.” 

You chuckled and grabbed his hand to lead him further into the house. “I’m sorry my husband ruined your playdate, Sammy. But you can hang out with me.” 

Sam reluctantly agreed only after you promised to make him blueberry muffins. He liked those ever since you were kids. 

He agreed to help, and you both had a nice, comfortable conversation going while you worked. You caught yourself shaking your head a few times thinking about how just a few months ago if someone had told you you’d be in Bucky’s kitchen making muffins you wouldn’t believe it. 

But here you were now. 

Then Sam casually said, “I’m glad you two worked it out, you know? You’re so perfect for each other. Even back when we were kids, remember how everyone used to tease you two and say you would surely marry one another?” He laughed. “I mean after he told me all about how you heard him on the phone with me by the pool, I was worried you might never clear up the misunderstanding.” He chuckled, keeping his eyes down as he lined the muffin tin so didn’t see the way you froze. Sam continued, “I thought that’s why you left when I heard about your sudden disappearance. But–”

You cut him off, heart racing as memories of that night came flooding back in. “Sam… what do you mean on the phone with you?” 

Sam looked up, frowning. “That night of your twentieth birthday. Remember how you found Bucky by the pool? He was on the phone with me that night. He was so angry when he told me what his family was planning to do to yours, how they were going to–,” Sam cut himself off as the realisation set in. “Did he not tell you the truth?” 

Your heart pounded. Something was wrong. 

“Tell me what truth?” 

Sam’s eyes softened. “Oh, I shouldn’t be the one to–,”

“Sammy, please.” You begged in a whisper. “Even my father refuses to tell me anything. I have the right to know. What happened?” 

Sam tried his hardest to make sense as he told you everything in a rush. “Look, something went wrong back then. Bucky’s family began siding with the rivals and they were trying to take your father down. They tricked your dad into thinking that getting you and Bucky married would be a good idea and well, your father chose to believe his friends so he made that announcement at the party.” Sam sighed, “But Bucky’s family were planning something really bad. They were going to use the wedding as an excuse to gather all your family in one place and… end all of you. Just so they’d be able to expand their territory. Bucky found out about this plan and he was pissed. So that night, he called me. To vent.” 

You felt your eyes begin to water. 

Sam continued. “But then you found him. I remember him whispering to me that you were doing a terrible job at hiding behind a plant or some shit. Then your huge gown gave away your hiding spot. But given you were listening, Bucky decided he’d get you annoyed enough to have you at least try to call off the wedding which would buy us some time to figure out what to do. That’s when he began saying those things about you. Trying his hardest to sound like he truly did not want to marry you.” Sam sighed, “I mean there might have been a better way of doing it rather than fake dialogues on a phone call, but we were twenty year old boys. We didn’t know better. We didn’t know you’d write that note and just disappear.” 

What the actual fuck. 

“Sam…” You whispered in disbelief. 

He shook his head. “Please tell me you didn’t truly believe all that. He lied when he said those things that night, you know? Bucky liked you ever since we were kids. You don't remember how he used to get mad at me whenever I was around you for too long? How he always ignored your hiding spots when we played just so you’d win at hide-and-seek? You don’t remember how he used to bully your stupid boyfriends as we got a older?” 

You couldn’t believe any of this. But Sam would never lie to you. 

“Wait,” Sam put the pieces together. “So you didn’t know about any of this?” 

You closed your eyes and sighed, “I didn’t. I heard all the things he said that night and… I had spent my entire life loving him and I thought…” You sighed. “I was young and stupid and heartbroken so I just left.” Then you explained. “I got back recently, Bucky made this whole show of raining down bullets at my father’s house and, well, we kinda got married that same day, in my father’s destroyed foyer.” 

“You didn’t talk to each other this whole time?” Sam was in disbelief. “Oh for fuck’s sake. And I thought Bucky just never mentioned you while you’ve been gone because… well, he’s not exactly good at the whole heart to heart thing. He’s Bucky.” 

Your surprise morphed into anger really quickly. “I need to find my husband.” You said, quickly walking out of the kitchen. 

Sam yelled behind you, “I'm gonna take this muffin batter and go before he shoots me after he finds out I told you all this!” 

You just yelled back, “Bye Sammy, I love you”

Sam’s voice sounded distant as he yelled back, “Don’t let him hear you!” 

You ran out to the back, where Bucky said he would be. And you found him by the pool. Again. The sight of him standing there gave you déjà-vu. Except he wasn’t your twenty-year old crush, in a black suit, arguing with who turned out to be Sam, on the night of your birthday anymore. 

He was older now, your husband, wearing dark trousers and a loose white-button up shirt, standing by the pool with the sun setting behind him. You stood on the patio, for a second more, admiring him. The metal hand casually shoved in his pocket and his heavily tattooed arm held a phone to his ear. 

You called out, no longer containing your anger. “You absolute piece of shit!” 

Bucky looked towards you and just frowned, before rolling his eyes. Then said on the phone, “Hang on a minute, Steve. My wife’s angry at me again.” He lowered the phone to his chest and whispered to you, “What is it this time?” 

“How long were you going to keep the truth from me?” You accused him. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

He raised the phone to his ear again and said, “I’ll call you later Steve, something came up.” Then he hung up, tossed his phone onto one of the lounge chairs before turning to face you again. “Don’t get mad–”

“Stop telling me what to do!” 

He sighed. “Did Sam tell you anything? I saw his car coming in earlier.” 

You hissed, “Oh leave him alone! He’s a good man who doesn’t lie to me!” 

Bucky shook his head, understanding that you knew all about what he’d been hiding, and too calmly said, “They were gonna kill you. All of you. Not just your family members, but the guards, the family friends, the members of your family who aren’t even in this life – all of you. I had to do something. My folks were wrong, I couldn’t let innocent people die just because my family got too power hungry.” 

You took a step forward, “Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would’ve talked to someone.” 

“We barely even talked to each other as we got older. I thought you wouldn’t believe me.” 

“But you could’ve at least tried to say something!” 

He was quiet for a moment. Then said, “I came to see you the next day.” He confessed. “The morning after the party. But your father had found your note and you’d already left. You never mentioned exactly why you left in the note, so I let him think it was because of me.” He explained, “Since there would be no wedding I didn’t have to worry anymore. But the threat remained. So I goaded your father into a fight. He took the bait and tried to shoot at me. He missed, of course. But enough people heard about it so he ended up declaring war against my family.” 

He paused. You listened quietly. 

“No one knew it was all because of me. But at least from then on, your father was more cautious. And he began hating my folks. And they couldn’t keep pretending to be his friend for much longer either. All the truth began spilling out. Soon the city was divided and the attacks began. Allies became enemies, just like that.” 

You were quiet. Processing everything. All of that shit happened and you were not aware. 

For some reason, you asked, “During those attacks… Is that when you lost your arm?”

You only realised you’d been stepping closer and closer to him when he raised said metal arm and touched your cheek gently. He smiled and said, “No, baby. That was a different time.” 

You had a tear sliding down your face. He wiped it away. “What happened then?” You asked. 

“My folks didn’t stand a chance. Your father was not only angry and betrayed, but he was also sad that he lost you because of them, or me.” Bucky explained. “It got… really bad. Your father lost a lot of his guys. Then he got angrier. So he stopped responding to the petty attacks and came after my folks directly.” 

“He killed them?” They were his friends once. 

Bucky said, “He still doesn’t know I helped him all the way until the end.” 

“But he spared you.” 

Bucky smirked. “He just could never catch me.” 

“But your family…” Bucky went against his own you realised. 

“They were bad people. Not just because of what they planned to do to you but…” He sighed. “They were doing bad things in the background. Dealing in substances, and people.” He spared you the gory details. 

But you understood.  

“Why didn’t you tell me all this that day we got married?” 

“You wouldn’t have believed me. You had just spent ten years hating me.” He shrugged. “But hey, it kept you safe.” 

You stepped closer to him, feeling tired with all that you felt inside you. “So you never meant the things you said that night?” 

Bucky pulled you close, cupping your face in his hands. “I have loved you my entire life. I never stopped.” 

You sniffled, looking up into his pretty eyes. “We lost so much time. I spent years hating you for nothing.” It hurt thinking about it. 

He smiled at you, “I should’ve thought it through better. But I was young and rash, and my family threatened to kill the girl I loved. I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away.” He sighed. “I just didn’t think I was going to lose you for almost a decade. I was always aware of where you were and what you did in life in those years. I was so proud of everything you did, the name you made for yourself. But I couldn’t reach you. You were angry and you hated me. So I waited. And then you came back and… I needed you with me. I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer.” 

You wrapped your arms around him, shoving your face into the crook of his neck as you let the tears fall quietly. 

“Shh,” He whispered, running a comforting hand down your back. “It’s okay now, I’m here. We’re okay.” 

“I’ve been mean to you.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

He chuckled quietly, “And I shot at your father’s house. We’re equal.” 

“I… I love you too, you know?” You sniffled. 

Bucky pulled away so he could look down at your teary face. “Sorry to say this, wife, but this isn’t half as romantic as the first time you told me you loved me.” 

You frowned. “What?” Did you talk in your sleep? Oh no. Did you? “When did I say it?” 

“We were seven, playing in the hedge maze in your father’s backyard.” He smiled, thinking about that day. “He had just had a new water fountain placed in there, and you wanted to show it to me. You must have thought it was pretty and that I needed to see it too. Then you dragged me all the way there and told me you loved me.” He smirked, “Seven-year old you would be disappointed in you right now.” 

A chuckle escaped your lips at the faded memory. “I wish we could go back in time.” 

“Well, we can’t. But we can have the rest of our lives together.” 

You sniffled again, wiped your tears. Then nodded, and leaned in for a kiss. Deepening it the moment he kissed you back. Your fingers found their way into his longish hair and you gently tugged at his roots. 

He smiled into the kiss when you whispered against his lips, “I like you with long hair.” 

“I see you’re being nice again,” He murmured in between kisses, “Does my wife need something?” 

You giggled this time. “I want you, Buck. Just you.” 

“You have me.” He said. “Always.”

[strang3lov3]

Dirty Laundry

Joel's best kept secret is the washer and dryer he's not supposed to have. Your best kept secret is that you've been using that washer to get yourself off.

Tags - 18+, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation on a washing machine, dirty boxer sniffing (you fucking freak), fantasizing about a dirty old man, unprotected piv, creampie, curmudgeon joel talks you through knife safety, washing machine repairs, and overstim. 8k words, idk what the fuck happened. Thank you to @noxturnalpascal , @beefrobeefcal , and @papipascalispunk for helping me edit this monstrosity A/N - i have worked harder on this than my finals, but that should surprise no one. i only have one more left and then you should be seeing more of me this summer <3 i have a lot a lot a lot planned and I've been so excited to share new shit with you. Roman girlies, I haven't forgotten about you. He's up next. Anyway, you maniacs know what you’re here for, so please enjoy.

Joel’s best kept secret is his Whirlpool brand washer and dryer set, which is hidden deep in his basement. You stand before it now, loading your dirty laundry into it, using what is definitely too much of Joel’s detergent. 

Perhaps it’s more accurate to say his washer and dryer set was his best kept secret, until you came along and forced his hand. Everything was fine, and then you showed up, both yourself and your basket of laundry soaking wet, leaving Joel with no choice but to lend you a hand. Biggest mistake of his life. 

As great as Jackson is, it still comes up short sometimes. Not with everything; you’re beyond blessed to live in the safety of its walls. Just technologically, sometimes it can leave you missing the finer things. It's not Jackson’s fault society is twenty years into an apocalypse, thus running on twenty-plus year old appliances. The older ovens, refrigerators, and other appliances that were built in the seventies to the nineties or so are surprisingly doing alright, but the ones built when manufacturing began to take a turn for the worse around the later nineties and 2000s are beginning to crap out, especially the washers. God, you hate laundry day. The washers at the laundromat in Jackson always give you a hard time. Week after week, your chosen washer won’t start, or it’ll stop mid-cycle. The laundry attendant, Patti, often helps you wash your clothes by hand which is nice, but still frustrating for you both. 

On a busy and gloomy Sunday a couple months back, you were lucky enough to pick one of the less temperamental washers and hardly had to fight or beg and plead with it to get it to wash your clothes. However, your luck ran out when it came time to dry, your dryer wouldn’t run. Refused to start, even with Patti’s help. Worse yet, every other dryer was in use at the moment.  You were shit out of luck. Patti offered you a sympathetic smile and sent you home with a baggy full of clothes pins and a wagon to carry your basket of sopping wet clothes. The clothespins were a nice gesture, but didn’t help much as you didn’t have a clothesline. And - you had to laugh - most of them were broken. Oh dear, sweet Patti.

Once at home, you did your best to hang up your clothes on your porch, laying them out over the thick wooden railing, securing them with rocks. The wind was blowing something fierce that day, and then you felt it – a raindrop. And then another, and another. Before you knew it, you were caught in a torrential downpour, with your clothes blowing every which way. Working to gather your clothes as quickly as possible, you haphazardly chucked the rocks that were keeping them still in every direction, your neighbor Joel interrupting the task when he came outside and started to shout at you. Joel’s a man that can only be described as crotchety. A curmudgeon, even. 

“The fuck are you throwing rocks at my window for?” he shouted, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of the wind and the rain smacking your porch. 

“What?” you yelled back, “Joel, I can’t hear you.” 

“ROCKS,” he shouted again, “Why are you throwi–” Joel realized it was a lost cause then. He could see in your face that you couldn’t hear him, you looked puzzled and annoyed for a moment before you returned to throwing rocks and gathering clothes. “Fuck it,” he mumbled to himself. Through the pouring rain, he marched across both his and your lawns and right up the steps of your porch. “What are you doing?”

“I was at the laundromat and the dryer stopped working so Patti gave me clothespins but I don’t have a clothesline so I tried to lay them out on my porch with rocks so they could dry but then it started to ra–” Getting the picture, Joel had stopped listening to you and joined you in gathering your clothes tossing stones back into the rock edging surrounding your house. “What are you doing?” you asked. 

“Nothin’, just– come on. Let’s go – we’re goin’ to my house,” he answered, dumping the last of your clothes into your basket. 

“Why?”

Lightning shoots from a nearby cloud, with booming thunder following suit. Joel’s soaking wet, as are you. His hair was dark and stuck to his forehead, his thin t-shirt clung to his body, outlining his soft, pillowy tummy and belly button and his thick, muscular biceps. “Go, go, go,” Joel shouted, waving you away. “Just go. Move.” he grunted as he lifted up your laundry basket and hauled it across the grass in quick strides. He held the basket on his hip as he opened his door for you, guiding you inside with a push to your lower waist. 

Your shoes squeaked as you followed Joel through his house. He took your basket down his basement stairs, “Be careful for me, stairs are steep,” he warned you, “Don’t need you crackin’ your skull open. Got enough shit to deal with.” It was sweet, knowing that he was looking out for you – even with the irritation lacing his tone. 

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you saw what Joel had led you to. A washer and a dryer, olive green in color. He opened the door of the dryer and shoved your wet clothes inside it, then took off his own soaked shirt and pants and tossed them in too. “They’re clean,” he told you. 

In another lifetime where the world doesn’t go to shit and fungus is the least of your problems, the mundane appliances in front of you would be the very last thing on your mind. You’d be focused on Joel, watching rivulets of water slide down his jaw, past his Adam’s apple and pool in the hollow of his throat. You’d be tracing the outline of his body with your eyes, following that thin line of hair that spreads down his lower stomach, disappearing under his boxers. You’d be eyeing his thick bulge and the way that if you squint, you could see the outline of his cock. But in this life, in this moment – where the world went to shit a long time ago – you’re more amazed by the washer and dryer he stands next to. “This is why I never see you at the laundromat? The whole time, you’ve had a washer and dryer?” you asked, astonished. 

“M’not supposed to, but yeah,” Joel answered, shutting the dryer door before turning to you with his chin tilted down, eyebrows raised. Don’t you go tellin’ anyone, now.”

“I’m gonna tell Patti.”

Joel looked betrayed and puzzled. “I’m doin’ you a favor,” he reminded you.

“I know.”

“You want me to dry your clothes or not?” You crossed your arms and bit the inside of your cheek as you shrugged. “Oh, Christ,” Joel grumbled under his breath. “Why the hell would you go and rat me out?”

“Because, Joel, ” you began explaining, “All of the washers and dryers are breaking and you’re hoarding your own? I don’t think so – if everyone else has to share the washers, then you do too,” you scolded. “It’s selfish.” 

“Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.” You stared at Joel for a moment before turning on your heel to go tattle on him, just like you swore you would. “Wait–” Joel grabbed your arm, stopping you. Despite being long gone from Boston QZ, Joel couldn’t quite shake those smuggling and bargaining habits of his. You were serious about this threat, and he knew it. You’d march your ass through the pouring rain to go snitch on him to Patti. And really, the worst that would’ve happened to Joel would be a scolding from Maria and the washer and dryer removed from his home and placed in the laundromat. It’s not like he’d be placed in a pillory and have rotten tomatoes thrown at him. But still. Joel liked his washer and dryer. He sighed. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything, Joel. I just want to better our community.” 

Give me a break. “What do you want,” he repeated, his voice lower. 

You pressed your lips in a thin line, eyeing those pretty olive green appliances of his. It’s not a far walk to Joel’s house… And you wouldn’t have to wait in line to wash your clothes behind twenty other people. You did want to better your community, that much was true. But you weren’t opposed to bettering your own life. “Let me use your washer and dryer. Whenever I want.”

Joel was quick to counter in a stern voice, “Twice a week, tops.” 

“Three times,” you tried.

“Once,” Joel lowered his offer and then looked at you with his eyes squinted, his head cocked to the side. “Who does laundry three times a week?” 

It was a fair point. Even with your very own washer and dryer, you wouldn’t do that much laundry. “Fine. Twice,” you agreed, and Joel held out his hand for you to take and you shook on it. His palm was warm and calloused, his grip firm. In that moment you met his eyes, taking in the beauty of his face. Those sparkling, big brown eyes and the beautiful curve of his aquiline nose. Your eyes traveled lower still, and it hit you both at that moment - the realization that Joel was wearing nothing but his boxers, and that you were still shivering in your cold, wet clothes. Joel dropped your hand quickly and grabbed a clean t-shirt from one of his own laundry baskets on top of the dryer. “Here. You can change into this and toss your clothes in there too, f’ya want.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the shirt from his hand. “Do you have something to wear?”

“I’m a little behind on laundry, actually…” Joel trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. You scoffed and chuckled at that. The luxury of his very own washer and dryer, right in the comfort of his home, and Joel had the audacity to be behind on laundry. “Uhh, anyway. You just turn the knob on the dryer to ‘high’ and press the start button. I’ll give ya some privacy to change, you can meet me upstairs when you’re done,” he said, and then shuffled past you. 

Once Joel was up the stairs, you took off your clothes and put them in with the rest of the clothing in the dryer. You changed into Joel’s t-shirt, the fabric was soft with time and many wearings, and it smelled like him despite being washed. It was a muted teal in color, littered with a couple of bleach stains here and there. You liked it. 

Upstairs, Joel made a couple of mugs of hot tea to warm you both up. “Honey?” 

“Yeah, Joel?”

“N- no, like…Was askin’ f’ya wanted honey in your tea.”

“Oh.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “Y– yes please. Thank you.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks. What a stupid thing to say. You watched as Joel stirred a bit of honey into your cup of tea, smirking as he then handed you the mug. Asshole. “Thought you were a coffee drinker,” you mused awkwardly, attempting to change the subject after taking a sip of the hot liquid, “You like tea?”

Joel grimaced in disgust as he took a sip of his own tea. “No. Just tryin’ to be polite for ya.” 

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, you know,” you smiled into your mug. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Aaand there it is. Curmudgeon Joel was back, Neighborly Joel never lasted long anyway. 

You sat on Joel’s couch, warming up with your cup of tea. Joel had noticed goosebumps on your thighs and pulled a blanket over your lap. He sat next to you with his mug steaming in his hands and just stared at you, not even realizing how deeply he was admiring the way his shirt hugged your curves just right, highlighting all the right parts of you. He jolted when he felt his cock thicken in his boxers, spilling his scalding hot tea all over his bare thighs. “God bless it,” he swore. Without thinking, he pulled the blanket from your legs and covered his own lap to hide his growing erection from you. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” 

“Nothin’. Just– m’cold,” he lied. “Jesus fuckin’- just - c’mere,” Joel huffed as he patted the spot next to him and urged you closer, then laid the blanket back over your legs. You sat shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh as you sipped your tea and Joel’s went cold. Dork. 

Moments passed. You sat in silence, the only sound was the rain pounding against Joel’s windows as your heart fluttered in anxiety, or maybe excitement. You might’ve even called it butterflies in your tummy. But you knew better. It was just the close proximity to Joel. And the fact that you were wearing his shirt, and he was practically naked. All of it pretty insignificant, honestly. It was basically nothing.

Joel finally spoke first, “Was thinkin’ it’d be best if you’d come by at night, when I’m on patrol or somethin’. Nobody’ll see you with your laundry and it’ll stay our lil’ secret, yeah?” You nodded, still a little bashful with everything that had happened. You aren’t often like that. It’s cute, Joel thought. “An’ you can use my detergent and whatnot. Whatever you need, s’yours.” 

“Thank–” an especially bright flash of lightning followed by nearly deafening thunder interrupted you. You startled and sort of hurled yourself closer to Joel, grabbed his forearm and held it tight. It was just a reflex, probably. Basically nothing. 

“It’s just a storm, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna bite ya,” Joel teases with a grin. 

“Oh, shut up,” you let go of his arm and missed the warmth of his skin beneath your palm almost immediately, but your longing for his touch was quickly soothed. Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side as you listened to the sounds of the storm together. You stayed like that, inhaling the sweet scent of him, masculine and heady. He smelled like the rain, too, and the hair on his underarms tickled your skin but you didn’t mind. When your laundry dried, he carried your basket home for you. You thanked him and moved to shut the door, but Joel stopped it with his hand, “Washer can be sorta delicate sometimes, so just be careful with it.”

“Noted,” you replied. “See ya, Joel.”

“See ya, hon.”

A few nights later, you returned to his home with your basket of laundry. Joel was gone, on patrol as he often is at night. Doing the laundry was uneventful , even though you probably used too much detergent, but whatever. Joel didn’t have to know. The next time you did laundry, Joel was at home. He told you not to worry about whichever nights you come by, that he’d always leave the washer and dryer empty in the evenings for you to use. He was even generous enough to make you dinner that night. 

It all worked out. Joel’s washer and dryer stayed unknown to the rest of Jackson, and your laundry was cleaned in a much more efficient way. There really weren’t any flaws in your and Joel’s system, as long as you didn’t include the one laundry night where Joel was gone on patrol again, but had come home just as you were leaving. You bumped into him accidentally, causing a lacy pair of your panties to fall right out of your basket and onto his shoe. He bent down and picked them up for you, not even realizing what he was holding. “Oh. My bad,” he blushed, once he recognized the garment. “I’ll just…” and put them back in your basket. From that point forward, he was always careful to stay out of your way. Aside from that it really did all work out. 

-

After loading your clothes into Joel’s washer, you shut the washer door and turn it on. You make your way upstairs and there’s a note on Joel’s table – Leftovers in the fridge are yours if you wanna heat them up.

Opening the fridge, you see a neatly packed container of what looks to be chicken and vegetables. Yum. God, you’ll miss these vegetables when it gets cold again. You take advantage of the offer and heat up the food in a pan on the stovetop, humming to yourself as you stir the food to keep it from burning. A light flickers above you. Weird. It flickers again, and then finally goes out. But it’s no big deal, you’ve seen in Joel’s basement that above the washer and dryer is a shelf full of supplies and you know there’s a couple of bulbs there. You go back downstairs where the washer hums, working its way through the cycle.

“Hmm,” you hum to yourself. You’d never quite realized just how high up that supply shelf is. And the bulbs are in the middle of the shelf, so there’s no good way to get them without climbing on top of the washer, which Joel would probably kill you for doing. He did ask that you be careful with his fragile washer, after all. Whatever. It’ll take like six seconds, tops. You hoist yourself on the washer and first try kneeling on it to see if you can reach one of the bulbs. No luck. You stand on your feet then, raising yourself up carefully, slowly, feeling the washer shake slightly beneath your feet. Joel would be absolutely irate if he saw you like this now. When you finally grab one of those light bulbs, you carefully lower yourself to a seated position on the washer to catch your breath. You’re not usually prone to vertigo, but Joel’s wobbly washer brought the dizziness on. You know better than to try and move right now, so you just settle yourself down to avoid fainting.  

The washer vibrates under the flesh of your thighs. It’s a gentle sensation, lessened by the angle you’re sitting at. But if you focus really hard, you can feel it in your core. Curious, you spread your legs and turn to the corner of the washer, tilting your hips to the floor, and oh, this is it. You’re not even thinking about potential consequences when you shimmy your shorts and panties off, then find that sweet spot once more. The metal of the washer is cool against you as it vibrates, sending sweet little buzzes through your hot core. You’re not quite wet yet, just enjoying the sensation. Letting it build and build, seeing where it can get you. You let your mind wander, not really thinking about much in particular. The low hum of the washer fades away in your mind and you’re starting to become wet. Shifting your position, you extend your arm to find something to grab onto when you feel fabric. Joel’s clothes. He’s still a slacker with keeping up on his dirty laundry. Usually it would irritate you. It does irritate you, this exorbitant waste of an advantage he has. You look at the shirt in your hand, the same shirt Joel had lent you. You think back to that first time you did laundry here at Joel’s, how he sat next to you nearly naked. The feel of his skin and the smell of him - sweat and rain and musk. And Joel being the beautiful, incognizant man he is, probably had zero clue of how sexy he looked. Or smelled, for that matter. 

With Joel now on your mind and his shirt in your hand, you decide to experiment, create a better ambiance. You keep those images of him in your mind, those feelings too. You remember the low timbre of his voice, the rain splashing against the windows, the weight of his arm wrapped around your shoulders. And with his dirty t-shirt clutched in your fist and its armpit pressed against your nose you remember his scent. Smell is a powerful sense, closely linked to memory and emotion, his shirt and what it’s doing to you is a testament to that fact. Legs spread wide, your hips angled down with your clit pressed to the corner of Joel’s washer, the machine vibrating under you as you inhale his scent deeply - you’re back in that memory. And then some. 

In your mind, your back on Joel’s couch. You can smell him, feel him, and if you really concentrate, you can even taste him. You’re on your knees and he’s drawing lazy patterns on your back as you suck his cock and fondle his balls, and he’s moaning, grunting and whimpering your name. He tastes like he smells, heady and all masculine. He grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, guides you to straddle his hips. His forehead pressed against yours, he notches the tip of his cock inside you and pulls you down slowly, careful so as not to hurt you but it does, of course it does. Not that you mind, you love the stretch and the ache of his thickness splitting you in two. You rock yourself, grind your clit against that unruly patch of hair at the base of his cock. You’re coming, you’re coming, you’re coming. 

You’re coming. Loudly, whimpering Joel’s name as you rut against the vibrating machine. As you finish, so does the washer. It sings you a little chiming song indicating the load is done washing. You can’t help but giggle at that as you bask in the discovery of this fortuitous delight. You’ve got private access to a washer and dryer and a vibrator now too? Lucky, lucky, lucky. 

God, Joel’s shirt smells good. You inhale it deeply, wondering if he wears cologne. It smells almost woodsy…smokey, even. 

Fuck. You’re smelling smoke. 

You pull on your pants and sprint up the steps, racing to Joel’s kitchen only to find that the chicken and veggies you were heating up are no more. They’re black and shriveled, cemented to the stainless steel pan, and there’s no salvaging that. No amount of scrubbing can erase your masturbatory mistake. Fuck, Joel’s gonna kill you. Your only choice is to conceal the evidence. Surreptitiously, you take the pan and hide it under a bush outside Joel’s backdoor.

You’ll be more responsible next time - yes, there absolutely will be a next time. Gas off before you get off. 

The next time came and went. And the time after that, and the one after that. Laundry was always your least favorite chore, but with access to Joel’s washer and dryer and this new trick up your sleeve, it’s not so bad. Getting off on Joel’s washer has become a weekly thing and it’s been lovely, relieving, dirty, and exciting, but you’d be lying if you were to say it’s been perfectly fine the whole time. 

You’ve been abusing the poor machine. It’s no secret. You get every bang for your buck out of the washer, taking full advantage of Joel’s twice a week offer and then some. Some nights you’ll sneak over and do an extra load, wash a blanket or something just to make the washer run for your masturbatory purposes. And so, the vibrating sensation the machine produces has begun to weaken. In order to compensate, you’ve been rocking yourself harder on it, which probably isn’t helping. But it’s still washing your clothes, right? 

…Yes. Mostly. It still washes, but it’s become sort of finicky. And the door doesn’t quite shut the way it used to, and it makes an odd noise now that it never made before. 

Tonight you’re at Joel’s doing a double load of laundry. There were no ulterior motives on your part when you came over, honestly and truly. Your first load is drying, the second load is in the washer. Joel’s home tonight, he’s gonna cook you dinner like he always does when he’s around. For such a grouch, he wears his heart on his sleeve. 

It would be more accurate to say you’re cooking dinner together. Joel came home with a basket full of fresh vegetables from the market and actually put you to work, his reasoning being that he was starving and wanted dinner ready yesterday, and that having your help cutting up the vegetables for the meal he was making would have dinner ready that much sooner. He places a cutting board in front of you and hands you a knife, “Chop chop,” he says, then laughs at his own pun as he rifles through some cabinets. “Missin’ a saucepan…” he mumbles to himself. Oops.

You start by peeling the carrots. As you begin to chop them, you realize he didn’t give you any sort of instruction. “Joel?”

“Yeah, hon.”

“How small do you need me to cut the carrots?”

“Uhhhh,” he thinks. “Lemme see.” Joel turns around and watches you with a look of disappointment and repulsion painting his features. “What’s the matter with you?”

“What?” you ask defensively. 

“Why are you tryin’ to cut off your fingers?”

You look down at your hand holding the carrot and your other hand holding the knife, then up at Joel. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I’m not trying to cut off my fingers.”

“Sure looks like it to me. Is that always how you handle a knife?”

“Yeah,” you reply, “Why?”

“‘Cause you’re gonna cut off your damn fingers, dammit, that’s why. C’mere,” Joel stands behind you where you stand at the island, then lifts up your left hand and curls your fingers underneath themselves. “Keep your fingers like this,” he instructs. “Holdin’ your fingers out flat like that are a sure fire way to cut ‘em off. Now show me how you chop.” 

With your fingers in the proper position now, you begin to cut the carrots. They wobble beneath you, you hate the way Joel has you holding them. “This is uncomfortable,” you tell him. 

“You know what’s more uncomfortable? Missin’ fingers. Keep goin’.” You groan but keep chopping per his demand. He’s pressed against your back, one of his palms lays flat against the countertop, semi caging you in as he watches you work. “Okay, okay, stop. You’re makin’ me nervous. Gimme this.” Joel wraps his hand around yours on the handle of the knife. He moves the knife for you, cutting the carrot slowly, your hand securely in his. “You’re liftin’ the knife too much, sweetheart. Just rock it back and forth for me. Just like this,” he whispers, showing you how he rocks the knife in a fluid motion to cut the carrots. His hands are warm, his grip on your hands is firm. His breath is hot and tickles your ear, sending goosebumps erupting down the back of your neck. He chops the carrots quietly, and you feel him against you - the rise and fall of his chest and tummy with each inhale and exhale he takes, his wiry scruff kissing the side of your face. “That’s it,” he praises, “Good girl.”

Fuck. His words go right to your core. As if him holding your hands and caging you in to teach you how to cut vegetables wasn’t enough, he had to call you ‘good girl’ as well. That had to be deliberate on his part, you’re almost certain of it. And now you’ve got to pay his washer another visit. His fault, honestly. “Laundry,” you blurt out, pushing his hands off of yours and shrinking away from his hold. “Sorry. Gotta check the laundry.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” Joel watches you pace down the basement stairs and listens to you pretend to check on your clothes, opening and shutting the washer and dryer doors. He’s waiting for you to come upstairs, but you never do. “You comin’ upstairs?”

“Yeah, just a minute,” you call back.

“There’s spiders down there, you know. Big an’ fuzzy too.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you yell as you unbutton your shorts and pull them down your legs. “I don’t mind them.”

Your reply immediately has Joel feeling suspicious of you. Even a mention of a mere ant should have sent you running into his arms and pleading with him to get rid of it. On more than one occasion, Joel’s woken up to you pounding on his door in the middle of the night begging him to come kill a spider that’s in your bedroom. And he always does, of course, even when the spider is miniscule and simply minding its business in a corner somewhere. He’ll scoop it into the palm of his hand and set it outside in a bed of flowers, call you a wimp and be on his merry way, grumbling the entire walk home. He wonders why the hell you’re so brave all of a sudden. 

A loud, clunking noise interrupts the silence. “Oh, fuck,” you swear. And Joel’s deaf, but not deaf enough to not hear you. “What was that?” he calls from up the stairs. 

“Nothing!”

Joel knows it wasn’t nothing, it certainly didn’t sound like nothing. You quickly pull your shorts and panties back on when you hear him stomping down the stairs to investigate. Wracking your brain to think of a lie to tell Joel, you realize you’re fucked, utterly and completely. It would’ve been more appropriate to think of one before now, probably around the time the washer started to make weird noises. Now you’re faced with god knows what consequences. 

Joel greets you with a puzzled and angered expression. “What the hell happened?”

“I d– I don’t know. Just something… Happened, I guess,” you stutter. Subtly, you stuff the used pair of his boxers you were smelling down the back of your shorts to hide the evidence of your even dirtier secret. Joel sees that you’re avoiding eye contact, looking up and away, scratching your head. The silence hangs heavily in the air and Joel sees the guilt on your face and that your shorts are undone for some reason. “You have ten seconds to tell me the truth before this becomes a much worse day for us both.”

“Nothing happened–”

 “Nine, eight…”

You fold instantly. “I sit on it,” you confess, Joel exhales in frustration. “Sit? As in… this is a regular occurrence, you’ve been sittin’ on my washer,” Joel asserts. You nod in confirmation. “Why.”

 “I don’t know,” you shrug, another lie. 

“Well, how much have you been sittin’ on it?” 

“Just like…a lot, I guess.” You look down at your feet, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.  

“Why?” he asks again.

“It…uhh…sort of…” you mumble, picking at your fingernails. 

“Sort of what?”

“Vibrates.”

Joel’s face falls at the admission. “You’re not serious,” he says, but he knows you are. “Oh my god.”

“Stranger things have happened, right?” Your voice wavers as you try to soften the blow with a joke. 

“Unbelievable,” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “No. Stranger things than you have not happened, sweetheart.” After taking a few deep breaths, he pushes you to the side and reaches for the shelf above the washer for a toolbox. He takes out a putty knife and wriggles the front of the washer off, then drops to his knees to inspect the washer. “Did I not ask you to be careful with it?” It’s a rhetorical question. Joel groans when he sees what’s broken inside of the washer. 

“What is it?”

“Belt’s broken,” he answers. “You’re lucky s’fixable.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well, it’s good you can fix it, right?”

 “Oh, no. You are fixin’ it, my darlin’. You broke it.”

Joel’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re putting his washer back together. “I don’t know how,” you tell him. You’ll make it up to him in any other way than this, but there’s no way he’s serious. Besides, he’s now the first to know that your track record with washers isn’t to be trusted.

 “I’ll walk you through it,” Joel replies plainly. “Get down there. On your knees, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at him. “Now,” he says, unimpressed with your defiance.

You drop to your knees in front of the washer, looking for the broken belt that Joel speaks of. You find one of the big and fuzzy spiders he was talking about instead. “Jesus!” you yelp, launching backwards and nearly knocking Joel over in the process “There’s a spider, Joel - kill it, kill it, kill it, Joel - kill it, please,” you beg. 

“Oh for Christ’s sake, it’s harmless.”

“Joel!”

Joel nudges you out of the way to find the spider sitting right at the bottom of the washer. He scoops it into his hand, then holds it in front of you, “I thought you said you didn’t mind ‘em,” he taunts. 

“I lied. Get it away from me,” You shove him away from you, and he clutches the spider more carefully in his hands, laughing. 

“Yeah, I know you lied. You’re very bad at it,” Joel opens one of the basement’s egress windows and sends the spider on its way, then closes it and returns to you, first grabbing what looks to be a replacement belt for his washer from a nearby shelf. Leave it to Joel to have the most convenient yet obscure supplies right in his basement twenty years into an apocalypse. “Back to work.” You’re in front of the washer once more, and Joel takes his seat right behind you. “See that black belt at the bottom of the drum?”

“No.”

“This thing here,” he points at it with his finger. “Take it off,” You reach for the belt and tug on it a bit, “Gotta wiggle it a bit,” following his instruction, you wiggle the belt and it falls off the drum. “Attagirl. Now put this one on,” he hands you the new belt and takes the old one from you. “S’gonna be snug.”

You struggle to stretch the rubber over the drum and it snaps your hands when it slips. “Fuck.”

“Keep tryin’. Put some elbow grease into it, hon,” Joel hovers over your shoulder, just as he did earlier in the kitchen. “M’just checkin’ to make sure you got it lined up properly,” Joel tugs on the rubber belt, making sure it’s sitting where it needs to. “So tell me again how long you been doin it for,” he whispers. “Long time?”

You answer cautiously, “Uhhh…a while now, I guess.”

 “Yeah, I figured. S’it feel good?” 

The question throws you off, makes you nervous. But his voice is low and gravelly, and his tone isn’t pointed or accusatory. He seems curious, but for what reason, you’re not quite sure yet. “It does.”

“Better than your fingers?” Joel tightens the belt a bit and leans back. He’s watching you, but you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes. You gasp when you feel his warm palm sliding underneath your shorts. “What the–” Oh, fuck. Joel found his pair of boxers. He holds the fabric in his hands, a knowing grin on his lips. “These are mine. What’re you doin’ with my dirty boxers?” he asks. He doesn’t allow you time to stutter out an excuse. “You’re a dirty lil’ bird, aren’t you?”

“Joel.”

He tosses his pair of boxers onto the dryer and whispers in your ear again, “I asked you somethin’. My washer feel better than your fingers?”

“Yeah,” you answer, “Better.”

Joel hums in amusement. He slides his hand down the front of your pants, still unbuttoned from earlier. “Saved me the trouble, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” he breathes. Your breath hitches when his fingers find your mound, as he toys with the curls there. He traces over your lips, then dips a finger between them, circling your hole, then circles your clit. “Better than mine?” he asks, dipping a finger into your center and you moan.  He holds one hand on your hip as the other pumps in and out of your center, and you lean back into his chest, relaxing with his touch. You sigh deeply. “Don’t get all cozy on me, now. You ain’t done. Gotta put the front of the washer back on, should just click right into place.”

Joel pulls his hand away from you so you can lift the front piece of the washer. “It’s not–” you complain, struggling to click it into place the way Joel says it should. You push and push, but it doesn’t budge. “Joel, it’s not–”

“It will. Just try.” 

“I am,” you argue, shoving it once more but to no avail. You’ve grown frustrated by his washer, by the task Joel bestowed upon you in fixing it, and his teasing, too. In a fit of anger, you stand up and kick it.

 “Hey, easy,” Joel scolds. “Look, like this,” Magically, the front piece of the washer fits right into place, just like he said it would. He does nothing different than what you did, it just works out for him. Of course it does. “You’re impatient, huh?” he murmurs, moving behind you. You gasp when you feel his hands on your hips, tugging the fabric of both your shorts and your panties down to your ankles, he helps you out of the garments and tosses them elsewhere. His hands are on your hips again, this time guiding you, whispering, “Back, back,” as he positions you where he needs you, spreading your legs apart. You’re leaning on his washer and he’s on his knees behind you, using his nose to tease and part your slick folds. He inhales you deeply, taking in the sweet scent of your arousal before he tastes you. He traces your lips with a pointed tongue, up and down, before he dips his tongue into your heat, savoring you. 

“How ‘bout my tongue?” he purrs, whispering against your skin. You don’t answer, and it’s not like you could anyway, with the way he devours you. His arms are wrapped around your legs, his fingertips are digging harshly into your thighs like he means to bruise you, tear the flesh off your bones even. It’s possessive in nature, but not abusive or aggressive. You know his actions aren’t borne of anything except pure pleasure and you indulge in it, in him. He moves slow like honey as he tastes you languidly, kissing you. He laps your velvety heat, his tongue teasing all of your sensitive, slick flesh. Now and then the wiry hairs of his beard will tease and scratch your inner thighs, a sensation that tickles you and rubs you raw all the same. “Oh my god,” you moan, reaching behind yourself to take hold of his head, fingers tangling in his graying curls and waves. “Joel, oh my god.”

Joel takes your lack of a real answer to his question as a no, his washer pales in comparison to his tongue. Good. He bets you’ve fantasized about him, all those times you’ve used his washer for those needs of yours besides washing your clothes. And he bets that you probably grind yourself on it, picturing it’s his warm flesh beneath you and not the cold metal of the machine. He’d be right. He sucks your clit, circling the sensitive bud with his tongue. He nips at your folds, sucking one, then the other between his plump lips, then focuses his attention back at your clit. You’re moaning his name, the only word you know anymore. Joel keeps you still, held tight in his arms so that you can’t push your ass back and grind against his mouth like he knows you’re fighting to do. All you can do is take it, feel his perfect aquiline nose tease between your cheeks. He’s buried himself face first in your most private place as he consumes you voraciously, his tongue flicking and swirling and painting you. You’re biting into your own arm, seeing stars as you come on his tongue. It’s an elusive sort of orgasm, the kind where you don’t exactly know where it begins and it ends. All you know is that you’re sensitive, so fucking sensitive and Joel is relentless. Your knees buckle as he toys with your clit, gives you a break for a moment before he’s right back there again, continuing to eat you. He keeps going and going, repeating the actions over and over again just to make you cry and beg, “Stop - please - I can’t, I can’t, Joel. T-too much.”

“Know it’s too much, sweetheart, s’why I’m doin it,” Joel coos. But he obliges, places one last kiss to your heat, soaked by his spit and your own arousal before he stands up behind you. He wraps one arm around your stomach, pulling himself close to you. You can feel his hard cock against your ass, separated only by his denim as he uses his other hand to turn your face to the side, meeting him beside you. He kisses you, tracing his tongue along the seam of your lips, licking into your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, then feel his hand leave your face to reach for his fly. You hear him unzip his jeans slowly, and then he’s pulling his cock out, still kissing you as he lines up with you, first parting your thighs with a gentle nudge of his knee before notching his tip at your entrance. He finally pulls his mouth away from yours and gently forces your chest down toward the washer. He pushes himself into you, careful so as not to hurt you but deliberately so that you still feel that ache, the stretch of his thick cock separating your insides. Joel continues holding your body close to his as he reaches for your hand with his free one, interlacing his fingers in between your own.  “How about my cock, sweetheart? You like it better, worse?” he whispers, kissing, nipping at your ear in between words. He pulls out of you nearly all the way, then pushes back into your dripping cunt. 

You try to answer, “Bet - oh, ahhh,” 

Joel chuckles at the way he’s reduced you to nothing but broken syllables and moans. “Ohhh, listen to you. I think it’s better, huh? S’that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” You nod frantically. “Yeah, I know, beautiful.”

His pace is slower to start, but it builds in quick time. You can feel he’s fighting with himself to be more gentle than he actually wants to be, his thrusts sloppier than he intends, like he’s losing himself in you. You’re lost in him, lost in the moment all the same. You take it all in, the lewd and obscene sounds of the pleasure he creates with you - his thighs slapping against yours and the gushing of your cunt on his cock. Your moans, your cries, all babbling nonsense. And Joel’s deep breaths in and out, shaky and stuttering as he does it. His grunts and his swearing, a whimper here and there if you listen closely. He fills you up perfectly, hits that sweet spot deep inside you over and over and over…

“You coulda had me like this the whole time,” he pants, “Didn’t have to go an’ break my washer f’ya needed somethin’ more than those fingers of yours, sweetheart. Know you been needin’ some lovin’.”  He reaches for your breasts, squeezing and groping the flesh, twisting your nipples and smirking when you twitch and whine. “All you had to do was ask.” You don’t respond, but he doesn’t expect you to anyway. What he did expect, however, were your moans of displeasure as he pulls out of you. He knows, oh, he knows how empty you must feel, you poor thing.  He’ll soothe that. He flips you around, seats you on his washer. “I’m gonna make you come again,” he promises, “I’m gonna watch.”

 “Too much, Joel, I can’t,” you cry. You want to come again, really. But you don’t think you have it in you, still so worked up, overstimulated by the endless teasing of his tongue on your pussy.

 “Oh, don’t cry. You can do it, hon. You can take it,” he says, “Open up those legs for me, darlin’.” Joel pushes your trembling legs wide so he can slot his hips between them, then wraps your legs around his waist before sliding his cock into you once more. He thrusts just once, rather harshly, before he’s met with another rather loud noise from the washer. Joel halts and scratches the back of his neck. God, he hopes he didn’t just do it in. “Probably shouldn’t…uh…”

“Yeah,” you agree. 

“Did you use my dryer too?”

“Duh,” you answer. “How else would I dry my clothes?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “No, smartass. Were you usin’ it for your dirty work, is what I’m askin’.”

“No.” 

Still inside you, Joel slides you over to his dryer. “Good girl. Poor washer’s been abused plenty by you already.”  

“But I will,” You whisper defiantly under your breath, wrapping your arms around his neck as he adjusts. 

“Wrong ear, sweetheart. My right one’s deaf. I heard that loud and clear.”

Joel’s back to fucking you in an instant. He wastes no time in making good on his promise, thumbing your clit as he rolls his hips into you. “See, look at you. Takin’ me just fine,” he praises.The way you squirm and take your shallow little breaths fills him with satisfaction and delight. He knows this isn’t easy, that you’re tired and sore and overstimulated. He’ll be done with you soon. “Come with me, wanna feel you come with me, sweetheart,” he says. “Focus here, eyes on me. You’re gonna come with me.” 

It’s a few moments of Joel painting your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you hard and deep. There’s a push and pull to it, where you’re not sure who this is for - yourself or Joel. Just like before, you’re not sure where it starts and stops, but you’re there. God it’s intense, you’re gonna break and you know it. Joel’s got his palm on the back of your neck, squeezing you. His jaw clenches and he’s coming undone first, but he never loses focus on you. His thrusts stutter as he milks himself in you but doesn't yet stop - he’s making sure you’re gonna come. “C’mon baby, c’mon. Give it to me,” he says. “One more for me. Last one.” 

His words are all it takes. You whimper and moan, cry his name as you find your climax. Release washes over you the way waves crash onto sand - it’s repeated, the way the tides push and pull. Deafening. Powerful. 

But there’s a calmness yet. The rolling of his hips slows, slows, stops. He presses his damp forehead against yours, breathing deeply. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay?”

You nod and smile, “Yeah, I’m good.” He smiles with you and helps you off of the dryer. Joel finds your clothes and dresses you in them, steadying your shaky legs. 

Joel tentatively restarts the washer. It chugs a bit, but makes all the right noises and he breathes a sigh of relief. You’re a bit startled when he takes you by the arm and marches you up the stairs. “New rule,” he says, “You stay with me when your clothes are washin’.”

You bite your lip to hide your guilty smirk. “Yes. Joel.” 

“And I still need you to cut them veggies for me, too.” 

I struggled heavily with this fic, comments and reblogs would be much appreciated if you were feeling so inclined🙏 they keep me motivated and I look back at your words when I’m writing to remember that I’m capable of pleasing you all

[imawreck]

His

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky broke up a few months ago against your wishes, and you’d been trying to move on. When Bucky sees you flirting with another member of the team, he leaves for the next mission to avoid getting in your way. Unfortunately, the mission goes bad, and Bucky isn’t himself when he comes back. He also has a lot to say…

Author’s Note: I realize that in most of my fics Thor is the other romantic interest/situationship, but you CANT tell me that man wouldn’t flirt up a storm with a beautiful woman any chance he got. Also, this is my first smutty fic so feedback and comments would be much appreciated! This is on the more explicit side, so please read with caution.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions self loathing/guilt (it’s Bucky, kinda normal), choking kink, Possessive!Winter Soldier, flashbacks, hair pulling, fingering, metal arm kink, dominant!winter soldier, probably some more but those are the big ones.

Word Count: 4,850

Breakups are ugly most of the time, and almost always one sided.

You and Bucky had been apart for at least three months. You’d stopped counting, wanting to forget it and focus on anything else. It was easier that way, to ignore the heartbreak and clutter up your life with other things to do.

Unfortunately, you still lived in the same tower on the same floor, right across from one another. He was constantly around, and no mattered how hard you tried, you just couldn’t avoid him.

It was hell.

And it was only hell because Bucky hardly gave you a good reason for the break up. Sure, you had your arguments. Mostly about his past and how much better he thought you deserved, to which you’d list all the reasons he was wrong. In reality, those weren’t really arguments. It was just Bucky having a low point, which you were more than willing to help him work through. Outside of those moments, you had felt that your relationship with Bucky was near perfect.

So when he had come back from a mission and broke up with you, his only reason being ‘I can’t be with you,’ it’d been a slap to the face. Like someone had shoved a knife in your heart and twisted.

The worst part was that he wouldn’t even allow you the chance to talk to him afterwards. Every time you were in the same room together alone, he’d find every reason not to speak with you.

So, you’d taken the hint and were now trying to figure out a way to move on.

That was made a little easier when a certain God of Thunder made his interest known to you. Thor was sweet, charming, and a little goofy. Not to mention handsome, with his blonde hair and sky blue eyes.

He’d made an effort to woo you not long after you’d parted from Bucky, and you’d informed him that the breakup was hard for you and that you couldn’t really do something new right now. Thor had been surprisingly understanding, and even took to just being friends quite well. Granted, he was still flirty, but he knew where you both stood and was always happy to lend an ear when you needed one.

He turned out to be just the friend you needed.

From the outside looking in, none of the others thought it was ‘just friends,’ especially when Thor would openly show his interest in you. Especially to a certain Super Soldier.

Bucky was painfully aware of what was going on between you and Thor even though he desperately tried not to be.

His super hearing picked up on the soft laughter you and the god would share, on the hushed whispers you’d exchange late over a mug of coffee when you thought everyone was asleep. His every fiber was attuned to you, and he couldn’t help but fixate on your presence.

You were like gravity to him, and he always found himself near you when he knew he should be as far as humanly possible. He saw the little looks you shared when Thor would compliment you, noticed your shy smile when the god would enter the room. He could tell that Thor was winning you over slowly but surely.

He couldn’t fucking stand it.

So it wasn’t a big surprise when he shipped off on the next mission possible.

You worried, your heart still set on loving him, but you tried to pay it little mind. And after a few days, it actually helped. You felt better, found yourself smiling more. You were beginning to move forward.

That was, until the jet was reported missing. Then Bucky was all anyone could talk about in the tower.

Thor tried his best to keep you in the dark about most of what was going on, and it wasn’t hard seeing as you were just a rather good strategist and not a serious Avenger. You were only really included in skimming over preplanned attacks and making sure they hadn’t missed anything critical.

But word still spread, and worry was ever present.

Needless to say, it was very strange when Mr. Stark called you into a private meeting with himself and two other of the elite team.

“Y/N,” He spoke softly in the kind of tone that lets you know that whatever he says next is going to ruin your whole week. “There’s a situation with Barnes.”

You frowned, eyebrows scrunching at him from where you sat at the rather empty end of the long black table. “I’m confused. Bucky and I broke up months ago. Why are you talking to me about it?”

Steve, who you’d befriended while dating his best pal, looked at you with poorly concealed pity from his seat next to Stark. “Because we know he still means a lot to you and that you’re our best hope in this situation.”

That didn’t make you feel better about whatever was going on at all. “What do you mean ‘this situation?’” You eyed them both, before dragging your eyes over to Doctor Banner who hadn’t done much more than stare at you with a concerned expression bordering on panic.

Stark pressed his fingers to his forehead, “Barnes got triggered on his mission and has infiltrated the tower. We have reason to believe he’s after you.”

You gaped at him. That didn’t make any sense. You weren’t important, at least not as important as one of The Avengers. “Me? Why me?”

“We’ve silently shut the building down and we’re working on evacuating the floors without anyone freaking out.” Tony went on, ignoring your questions, “He doesn’t know that we’re aware he’s here, and we’re trying to keep it that way.” Tony motioned towards a monitor, and the image of Bucky popped up on the screen.

Only he was in your room, and he was dragging his fingers over the picture of the two of you that was perched on the nightstand. They way his fingers smoothed over the glass, the slight pinch in his brows as if calculating instead of recalling. It was like he’d never seen it before in his life. Like he had no connection to the image of himself.

It was a picture he had taken, his arm extended and a smile on his face with your lips pressed to his cheek. You had meant to take it down and stuff it in the box under your bed with all the other memories you had hid from sight, but it was just too painful. You needed something to hold onto.

You watched through the screen as he moved around your room, taking note of certain things and taking careful precautions to ensure that anything he moved was set right back in place. It was eerie to watch a man who was once so comfortable in your space tread with so much hesitance. Like it was the first time he’d been in the space all over again.

“Y/N.” It was Steve’s gentle timbre that brought your attention away from the screen this time. He tried to smile, though it was clearly forced. “We need you to lure him down towards the lower levels. We have to get him to a room where we can better contain him. If he finds out we know he’s back and not… him, then he could snap.”

“You want to use me as bait? For the Winter Soldier?” You stared at them both with wide eyes, panic blooming in your chest. “This is insane!”

Steve sighed, “Y/N… Bucky told me about the incident that happened in the beginning of your relationship.”

Your attention zeroed in on the blonde’s words, your breath hitching.

“He told me what could’ve happened… and what didn’t.”

You walked down the corridor of the Stark tower office floor heading back towards your desk from a late night research meeting with a few of your coworkers. You had decided to stay later than the others so that you could collect and organize the information you needed for the meeting with Mr. Stark the following morning. It was very late, and you were tired, the heels you wore had begun to irritate the soles of your feet hours before.

You clutched the files you collected in your arms, heels clicking on the glossy floors and echoing into the dimly lit corridor. So dim that you didn't see the silhouette of the man standing just feet from you until it was too late.

You only saw a flash of silver before the door beside you was torn open and you were roughly shoved inside. Cleaning supplies clattered onto the floor, spilling liquids over your feet as you cried out. A hand clamped over your mouth, and your head hit the wall with a thunk.

Stormy blue eyes stared at you, cold and unfeeling. Eyes you had seen just days before smiling at you and filled with life.

Your lips moved to say his name against the cool metal of his hand, but his grip on your face was nearly bruising. You could only stare back in fear and attempt to press your body further from him.

He didn't speak, only stared at you and kicked the door to the closet shut.

Fear was a living thing in your stomach, writhing as his eyes snaked down to your red heels and back up again. His head tilted to the side, as if he was trying to remember something. But his eyes remained cold and unrelentingly empty. His flesh hand came up to press a finger threateningly to his lips.

‘Quiet.’

You weren't stupid enough to scream, not with the way he was looking at you, with how close he was. When he removed his hand, you did exactly as he wanted. Silence hung in the small closet, suffocating you. Would he kill you? What did he want? Why hadn't he killed you already?

The cool metal of his palm slipped further down, wrapping around your throat and pressing against your thundering pulse. Your head pounded along with it, and a foggy feeling settled over your mind.

But your lungs still filled with air, and you remained aware. The pressure of his hand was ever present, but it was light enough not to cause real damage... Almost like he didn't want to hurt you.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips, the movement catching your eyes. His body leaned forward, his nose pressing into your neck and his warm breath hitting your skin. Goosebumps rose in its wake, and that lick of fear heightened again. He was acting so strangely, and the longer it went on the more unsettling it was.

When he pulled away, there was a heat in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A hunger, and… and recognition.

“Hello, Beloved.”

“We know that he didn’t hurt you, and that he displayed… certain feelings towards you.” Steve’s voice brought you out of the memory, dragging you back to the reality at hand.

The one where he wants you to put yourself smack dab in the path of the Winter Soldier.

“You’re serious about this?” You blink up at him, trying to gauge if he was joking or not. Level headed as Steve was, you trusted him with your life. But this? This was terrifying and completely unexpected. Ridiculously dangerous.

“It’s the only nonviolent way we can think of. And we’re almost certain there’s no high risk for you.” Steve tried to give you a reassuring smile, tried to hide the hint of unease that shone in his tense shoulders.

“You’ve all lost your mind.” You laugh, sighing and raising your chin. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Apparently, so had you.

You stared at the metal doors of the elevator, your heart pounding with each toll of the floors passing. This was probably—no, was— the riskiest thing you’d ever done in your life. You trusted Steve and Mr. Stark, but your brain was trained to find the flaws in plans like this. And so many things could go wrong.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Steve said calmly into your ear, startling you. You’d forgotten they’d given you the earpiece. “I’ll be here the entire time. I’ll guide you through the compound and make sure you stay out of danger.”

You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if they could see you.

“Bucky is leaving your room. We’re going to drop you off in the commons area of your floor. All you have to do is make some noise and then head for the stairwell. Just listen to me, and I’ll get you through this.” Steve sounded so confident in your ear, but it did little to soothe the nerves.

The elevator leveled out, and the doors quietly opened. The large living room opened up before you, unnervingly bright and welcoming despite the danger you knew lurked just down the hall. You stepped out onto the carpet, walking towards the kitchen. Your palms sweat, heart pounding, as you made your way up to the cabinets.

You just had to make some noise. Easy, right?

But your body wouldn’t move.

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice called in your ear again, gently coaxing you from where he watched the cameras. “Make some noise, and then head for the stairs.”

You swallowed, nodding again, and reached with shaky hands towards the cabinet. You grabbed a bowl, and hesitantly set it down on the granite counter. The echoing pok of the ceramic felt too loud in your ears, like a gunshot.

“Good, now move quickly. He’s just down the hall headed your way.”

The words sent a chill down your spine… and something else followed. Something you’d never felt before.

You headed towards the stairs, but your feet felt like lead weights. Like you couldn’t move fast enough even though you knew you were going as fast as you could.

But you could hear the faintest scuff of boots coming behind you and the sound sent your heart into a frenzy.

You raced down the stairs, tripping a few times before righting yourself and continuing your decent down towards the lower levels. Your floor was four levels up from ground level, which meant you had six floors in total to descend before you could get to the containment floor.

Six flights of stairs being chased by The Winter Soldier. A superhuman man who was definitely faster than you, and probably wanted to do something terrible to you. Like a wolf hunting a sheep.

Oh God.

The thought only served to spur the panic rising in you. You kicked up your speed when the door slammed behind you, footsteps pounding after you as the dark silhouette of Bucky Barnes rounded the stairs two flights above.

He took the stairs four at a time, his long legs swallowing up the distance between you. The panic clawed its way up your throat in a strangled cry, and the sound just seemed to quicken his pace.

“I’m not fast enough!” You tried to keep your voice even, tried to keep it quiet in the echoing stairwell so that the soldier behind you would hear.

“You’re almost there, Y/N. Just keep up the pace. Two flights left and—“ but he didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You watched in shocked horror as Bucky’s figure leapt over the railing and plummeted towards the ground. He dropped several flights before his arm snapped out and wrapped around the railing. The sound of metal hitting metal rang out around you as the railing dipped under the crushing pressure.

He hauled himself back onto the stairs just before you. Those cold eyes found yours, dark hair framing sharp features, painting him into something primal. Something wild.

That feeling pounded through you again, skittering along your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck. You still couldn’t place it, not with him stepping towards you with a look that promised violence.

You heard Steve’s voice ordering something over the earpiece, but it was distant. It became clearer a moment later. “We’ve got a team heading in. Just… just hang in there.”

You swallowed, but your throat had gone dry in the presence of the assassin before you. His eyes held you in place as his towering form finally stopped a stair below you, leveling with you face to face. So close you could count the stitches in the Kevlar of his suit.

You felt your body shaking, heard your heart thundering in your ears as your chest rose and fell with each short breath you managed to drag into your lungs.

And he watched every move you made.

His head titled to the side exactly like it’d done the first time you’d been trapped with him. His gaze never left you, eyes wandering over your face and heaving chest before that faint look of recognition settled into those hollow eyes.

And then that heat you’d seen before consumed them.

He stepped forward, and you answered with a step back. For each one he took, you pedaled backwards until your body was plastered against the wall. When you tried to flee back up the stairs, his metal hand planted itself against the wall inches from your head.

You were utterly trapped.

Rough Russian left his lips in the softest whisper. The sound was the same as you’d heart him say before, though you didn’t understand it.

Not until now, as the earpiece Steve had given you translated his words as he spoke them.

“Hello again, Beloved.”

Those blue eyes bored into yours, as his other hand came up to brush your cheek with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of.

“He’s kept me from you for so long.” Bucky’s body leaned forward, caging you against the wall. His metal hand remained pressed against the wall beside you, and the other dragged across the skin of your neck and shoulder in an almost reverent manner.

Bucky’s— no, this wasn’t Bucky. This was the part of Bucky he kept farthest from you. This was a man known for cruel, unimaginable violence. An assassin known by reputation around the world by both hero and criminal alike and feared by all. This was the Winter Soldier.

Winters lips brushed your jaw, stubble tickling the column of your throat as his voice rumbled against your skin. “Kept you to himself. Never let me touch you. Worried I’d damage you, Beloved. Couldn’t see you needed me.”

His teeth nipped at your skin, and a shiver rolled down your spine in answer. That feeling tugged at your mind again, spurred by his words. But still, you couldn’t place it. Not with your mind consumed by his statements and barely contained yearning.

When his head lifted to find your eyes again, the fingers of his right hand tangled themselves in your hair and pulled hard enough to have your scalp stinging. His next words were guttural and biting, “And then he let you go.”

Winters grip loosened a bit, but his hold on your hair remained. “He pushed you away, and then that god tries to take you from me?” His eyes held you, demanding your utter attention as his head shook slowly, “You don’t belong to him.”

Tugging your lip between your teeth, you clenched your eyes shut. God, you wished Bucky would say that to you. Having Winter here saying these words with Bucky’s voice, Bucky’s face. Touching you with familiar hands…

Heat had begun to pool low in your belly.

The words were spoken in English. “Open your eyes.”

There was no room for objection in his voice, so you did as he said. With his jaw was set in an angry line, and those blue eyes boring into your soul, he leaned in closer. “He thinks that being with you is too dangerous, that you aren’t safe with… with us.”

“What?” Your heart hammered in your chest at his words. It was the first real reason as to why Bucky had broken up with you.

Those silvery blue eyes zeroed on your lips as he spoke again. “He thinks we can’t protect you, that I’ll hurt you. That somehow being further from you keeps you safe from what comes with being what we are.” His metal hand left the wall in favor of brushing over your lower lip and trailing the cool tips of his fingers down to the dip of your breasts and back up to the column of your throat. “I’d never hurt you, not the way he has. Not if you didn’t want it.”

“W-what do you mean?” You just knew he was picking up on how your heart beat harder as his fingers trailed over your skin. Or the way you kept shifting on your feet to stave off the heat thrumming in your veins with an all too familiar want blooming and begging for his hands to explore more.

The faintest hint of a smile graced his face as he gave your hair another gentle tug, then loosened his grip once more. “You like this. I’ve seen how you react with him. How you quietly treasure the marks he leaves on your skin even when he feels nothing but guilt.” That metal hand slipped over your throat again and pressed on your neck exactly as he’d done the first time you’d seen Winter. Your head spun at the pressure, but you could breathe easily under the cool press of his palm as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “I see how badly you wish he’d touch you with this hand,” he squeezed your neck and loosened it quickly, “How badly you want those marks. How badly you need me.”

You had no words. Nothing to say as he wrung out the truth you’d thought was hidden from him— from Bucky.

Bucky was notorious for avoiding any situation that would make him use the metal arm. He would much rather let it hang there, or act as if he didn’t have it at all. That included when the two of you would get intimate. He never dared to bring it anywhere near you no matter how many times you’d reminded him it was fine, that you weren’t afraid of it. He outright refused to allow it to touch your delicate skin, to let such a catalyst for agony so close to something as precious as you.

Winter knew that you’d secretly craved to feel the cold metal in contrast to his warm skin when he held you. He knew that you would always find it more satisfying when Bucky would lose himself and get rough with you when things got heated. How his flesh hand would leave bruises on your thighs or hips to keep you steady as he thrust himself deeper.

Just the thought had you aching, and here was Bucky’s darker half offering you everything you’d ever wanted.

You were losing your fucking mind.

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, but the words were flimsy and meaningless. He knew the truth, but that didn’t mean you had to say it aloud.

His metal fingers dug into your jaw, his grip near bruising as he tilted your head up to level your eyes with his. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dollface.” His lips were a hairs-width away, his warm breath fanning over your face.

The scent of him was intoxicating, muddling your mind even further with heady leather and metal invading your nose. The hint of that aftershave you’d missed so much since Bucky broke your heart.

Winter was tearing you apart at the seams.

“Please,” you whispered. Please what? You didn’t know. You could hardly think straight. That feeling was so strong, thrumming along with your pulse and the ache for something. Anything.

“Tell me I’m right.” He mumbled against your skin. Soft lips, a vast contrast to his rough demeanor, to the calloused hand that remained tangled in your hair, trailed down your cheek. “Tell me that you want me. Not the pathetic excuse for a god, or him. That you want me.”

His metal hand released your face, drifting over your neck and dragging over the left side of your chest. He circled once, thumbing over your nipple with a knowing look filled with every sinful promise known to man.

And then he went lower and lower…

His fingers caught the waistband of your leggings, the chill of his fingers raised goosebumps across your stomach, only serving to worsen that burning need.

“Doll,” a command and a question wrapped in one word.

All you had to do was admit your darkest most guarded secret. Confess, and he would give you what you wanted most. What Bucky was too afraid to do.

You opened your mouth, the words tumbling out as he gave your hair another tug.

“I want you.”

That smirk grew just a fraction more, his fingers slipping past your waistband and toying with the hem of your panties.

Fuck, did you wish you’d gone commando today.

“Who am I?” He asked, teeth nipping down your neck hard enough to know they’d leave marks. “I want you to say it, Y/N.”

Those fingers slipped further, rolling over your aching clit in a teasing stroke before he pulled them away again.

If he wasn’t a literal assassin, you’d consider strangling him.

“For fucks sake,” you gripped his arm, your voice unfamiliar in your own ears, ragged and broken. “Winter, please.”

He didn’t waste time, deft, cool fingers dipping into your core with confidence. Soothing that aching heat.

Fuck.

His thumb circled slow as he pumped his fingers, his mouth leaving wet kisses along your jaw up to your lips where he paused long enough to catch a glimpse of your face. You knew you looked like an utter mess, but those blue eyes showed nothing but twisted delight. He leaned forward and tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, bitting hard enough to make you groan.

Winter’s answering grunt of approval urged you further towards the edge of oblivion those perfect metal fingers were working you towards.

God you were so close. Each movement, every touch and bruise he left on your skin pushing you closer and closer. Just a bit more, a fraction more and you’d—

His fingers wrenched away, gone in an instant.

Your eyes, closed from the pleasure just moments ago, snapped open just before the doors to the stairway above and below you burst open. Floods of agents filed through the doors, and a gun fired.

The sharp sound echoed in the confined space making you flinch. Winters back pressed you against the wall, a solid shield of muscle keeping you out of harms way.

Then the weight was too heavy. His body crushing you as he slumped toward the floor. You screamed, immediately thinking the worse as your eyes searched his form in a panic.

But you found no blood, thank God.

“He’s fine, Y/N.”

Steve’s hand on your shoulder had you flinching back, head snapping to his suit clad form. “The gun—“

“It’s just a tranq. I promise, Bucky will be fine.” His face was the picture of practiced reassurance.

A horde of agents rushed forward and cuffed Winters hands and dragged his unconscious body out of the stairwell and further towards the confinement room. Steve remained with you, his eyes flicking to your neck a few times and checking you over to make sure no serious damage had been done.

When you’d gotten yourself back to your room away from the prying eyes and the relentless questions, the reality of what had happened slammed into you.

You just let the Winter Soldier finger you in a fucking stairwell.

And you liked it.

Plunging your fingers into your hair, you took a shaky breath. What the fuck were you thinking? Had you lost your damn mind? Bucky broke up with you three months ago! You were done; over, moving on. He could remember this, for Christ sake! How would you explain it?

Panic writhed in your stomach, but so did the faint ache of need that reminded you of what had just happened mere minutes ago.

The feeling of his metal hand on your skin, the feeling of those fingers working you perfectly and the pressure of his bruising grip.

And that feeling that you couldn’t place.

But now you had a word for it.

From the thrum of your heart as he chased you down the stairs, the promise of violence and sinful pleasure in his eyes. The roughness of his actions…

It was the thrill.

You liked the chase. You liked how rough he was. The delicious blend of panic and pleasure.

And he’d been interrupted before you got the release you’d craved. That you needed.

Frustration boiled to the forefront of your mind, a dozen different strategies with it.

He’d made you confess your darkest secret only to leave you high and dry.

And damn him if he wasn’t going to finish what he started.

[mommynott]

Slick Surfaces

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Your first date with the hockey player ends up back at the ice rink and things seem to get a little slippery, not that you or Theo are complaining. This is my hockey!theo series. If you haven’t already, head over to the first part!

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, modern AU, pro hockey au, hockey!theo, nipple play, teasing, oral, pussy eating, masturbation, mutual orgasm, praising, dirty talk, semi-public, Theo being the munch he is

"Come on, you'll see…" Theo held a sly grin on his chiseled face, leading you into the empty ice rink. The dim lighting casts a dark and romantic ambiance over the vast space. You two had just finished a dinner date and Theo had surprisingly brought you to the arena. Why are we here?

Following him, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty lingered within you. "Seriously, why are we here?" You asked through a cute giggle, scanning the space around.

Your voices echoed around the rink, he was leading you up the stairs of the bleachers, the chilliness evoking something between you both. “I’m going to show you…Just how fun hockey can be…” Your heart skipped a beat, was this going to lead to something?

Theo continued walking you toward the top of the bleachers, his smirk growing wider as he guided you onto the highest tier. "See…" His ocean blues met with yours while he gestured towards the ice. "…just the two of us…In the rink…No one around to interrupt us…"

It was obvious Theo was hinting at something more but fuck. You didn’t mind it. Not in the least. The date you two had together was absolutely perfect. Better than you could have even imagined.

“You’re right…just us two…” Whispering back to him, you could hear the sultry tone dripping out with ease. Theo reached out and took your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours before scooting closer to you.

Not many people would think that a hockey arena could be romantic…sexy… but Theo did. In fact, bringing a girl here and ravishing her was a fantasy he always had. He just had to play his cards right…”You have the most beautiful eyes, Tesoro…” He husked, his face growing closer to yours.

At this point, you swore you could hear your heart pounding in your damn head. “You really think so?” Theo’s gaze flickered between your own, that same sly grin twitching on his lips.

“Oh, I know so…”

A low and deep growl rolled smoothly from his lips. His Italian accent seeming more prominent. But he didn’t hesitate any longer. Theo had been holding off the whole date. —Which was extremely difficult in the first place.

His free hand cupped your cheek roughly before smashing his soft lips to yours. Fuck. “Cazzo- Your lips…so fuckin’ soft.” Murmuring between the kiss, his tongue teased the crease of your lips, practically begging for an entrance.

“F-fuck” The softest little whimpers escaped your throat while the steamy kiss deepened into an intense make-out. Theo’s needy cock was rock fucking hard already, your panties a dampened mess.

Snaking his hand from your cheek, he wrapped it within your silky smooth locks, pressing you closer to him. But the other hand? It remained locked with yours. Feeling his thumb slowly grazing over your soft flesh. “You taste fuckin’ divine, bambina…”

The foreign pet name skated from his lips, both of your breathing getting heavier as the sensual yet rough make-out session only seemed to escalate. Theodore slowly began to lay you back against the cold metal bleacher.

“As do you, Theo…” your voice breathy and light, Theo could already smell the arousal wafting all around you. Only kicking his animalistic instincts into overdrive. His lips sloppily trailed down from your own. Across your cheek…

“Let…”

His hungry kisses fell from your cheek to your jawline. Taking his tongue and dragging it from the end of your lobe all the way down to your chin.

“…Me…”

A shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps pricking down your body as he swiftly dropped his mouth to the side of your neck. Sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. Surely leaving little love bites on his journey.

“…Taste…”

Soft moans were now freely spilling from your swollen lips, tilting your head to the side, giving Theodore better access to you. Your hair sprawled across the grey metal. He licked down to your collarbone, his free hand reaching up to grab one of your breasts, firmly massaging it as he groaned from the feeling.

“…All of you-“

Those dead eyes of his seemed to grow darker by the second, staring up at you as the hand that once locked with yours rubbed up and down your thigh. Waiting for your answer, knowing this could be risky.

“Please…gods- please fucking taste me.” Aching, begging Theo for more, you could see the smirk growing wider on his face. The dim lighting of the rink casting an orange glow across his features.

“That’s my girl.” Those words made your stomach do a backflip. His girl. Fuck. With that, Theodore yanked down your V-neck. Your lace bra on display but he quickly dug your tits right out. His mouth fell all over them, eagerly finding your swollen and perked nipples.

Trying to keep quiet for the low chance someone would walk into the rink at this hour, your back arched while your fingers playfully tugged at his brown waves.

You could feel his tongue flicking one nipple while his fingers twisted and tugged on the other. “Be loud for me, bambina…” He husked against your tits, now letting your moans naturally flow out.

Theo started to do a sucking motion with his mouth, your nipple swelling up as the pleasure began to bubble within you. No words could be made out, simply just taking in all the hockey player had to offer you. His. You were his tonight. And no one would stop him from devouring you. No one.

He sat up for a moment, looking down at the sloppy hickies plastered all over those perfect tits of yours. A prideful yet dangerous grin painted over his face before he took both hands, flapping up your mini skirt. “W-what are you-“

Your words cut off the second Theo softly dragged his pointer finger down your soaked lace panties. “Needy are we?” —God. Fuck yes I am. Your body shuddered beneath him at the tease. Feeling his fingers creeping over the side of the material.

“-Little bit…”

Cooing out, you couldn’t help but softly laugh at your own words. It was clear as day that you were a fucking wet mess for Theo. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, taunting you with his devilish stare.

“Only a little bit….huh, Tesoro?” Smirking down at you, his eyes never left yours. His jaw clenched momentarily just as he ripped your panties to the side so roughly that the material tore, the sound rippling around you both.

Theodore’s gaze dropped to your leaky little slit, glistening on full display for the player. His brows furrowed while his lips parted. Weakly falling to his knees as if he was in a trance from your pussy. —He was.

“Okay…Maybe a lot a bit.” Another seductive giggle freed from you, spreading your legs apart for him. The way he admired you, melted for you, had you going fucking wild.

“Cazzo…You have such a pretty pussy…”

Breathing his thoughts aloud, he let his slick fingers tease down your wet cunt. Seeing just how turned on he had gotten you. The compliment was swirling in your mind, feeling your ego get a major boost from it. “Do I now?”

Bucking your hips toward him, you let your own hands squeeze your breast together, his bottom lip dropping more. “-Fuck yes.” Speaking so quickly, he was aching to taste you. All of you. With ease, he threw his team hoodie right off, handing it to you.

“Here…For your head. want you to be comfortable and relaxed, Bella.” Smirking, he watched as you took the hoodie. His thick cologne still wafting around it. Feeling the apples of your cheeks flush, as dirty and raunchy as this moment was he still had a sweet side. A soft spot for you.

Laying the hoodie underneath your head, Theo nodded in approval. “Thank you, you’re-“ Again, you had gotten cut off, your body going into a euphoric shock.

Slapping your thighs even further apart, Theo immediately buried his face between your legs. Hearing a pleasurable groan mumble through your warmed core. “Fuck!—“ You cried out, feeling his tongue vastly dance around your swollen little bud.

God, he was fucking good. Already so fucking good. “Just as I expected…” Theodore trailed off, swirling his tongue teasingly around your clit purposefully.

“…You taste fucking delectable…deliziosa-“ He growled into your soaked flesh, finally flicking his tongue slowly across your clit. His stare burned up into yours. Watching your every reaction. Hearing those loud moans of yours was giving him all of the confirmation.

Progressively, he licked faster, snaking one of his hands down to his jeans to unzip them, pulling out his throbbing cock. “Fuckin’ Hell…”

The groan that guttered from his lungs, along with his bicep muscle flexing like crazy, you knew he was pleasing himself, getting off to eating you out. “Gods— That’s fuckin’ hot”

Whining out through your loud moans, your hand gripped tighter in his hair. Theo quickly took your other hand in his, interlocking your fingers together as he pressed his face further into you.

“That’s it, Tesoro…Use your words…Tell me how good it feels...How much I turn you on”

Speaking through his laps, his tongue was twisting and swirling in unimaginable ways. Little did you know, Theodore was spelling his name with his tongue. Over and over again. “I-it’s so good! Fuck— You’re so good!”

The sounds of Theo’s hand slapping up and down his massive length were only fueling your arousal. With each praise you gave him, the faster he seemed to go.

“—Mmmm” Theo was absolutely slurping you up, his lips suctioned right around your clit, keeping them parted ever so slightly so his tongue could flick with great speed. Sending your body in a vortex of desire and ecstasy. “Just like that- Fuck, Theo!”

Your moans were now turning into screams, his hand stroking up his precum-covered cock even faster than before. But never once did he remove that darkened ocean gaze from you. Taking you all in.

Sucking a tad bit harder on your little bud, you could feel your legs start to tremble, the pleasure dripping over the edge. But not just for you. For Theo too. “Finish with me, bambina-“ He spoke into your drenched folds, squeezing the hand he was holding as he jerked himself off faster and faster.

“Yes!- Yes!- Fuck!” Throwing your head back, your thighs closed against his head, heaven washing over you.

An earth-shattering orgasm hit you, feeling your wetness squirt out onto Theo’s tongue. At the same exact time, Theo’s groans rumbled against your drenched flesh, his seed spilling out all over his hand while he quivered from his own orgasm.

But he didn’t stop. No. His tongue lapped up your sweet nectar. Drinking all of your delicious juices up as if he had just walked through a desert and was quenching his thirst.

“T-Theo! Fuck— I-I’m so sensitive! Please-“

Your entire body convulsed while he munched down on you, slowing his pace and his tongue moving in longer strokes. A deep chuckle heard from him, he was loving this. The sensitivity he had given you. Reaching his cum covered hand to your mouth, he finally pulled away for a moment.

“Open, Bella.” A demanding tone released as he spoke. You didn’t even think about it. Wrapping your lips around his smeared fingers, tasting his sticky seed.

Watching as you bobbed your head up and down his fingers seductively he could hardly contain it. “Such a good girl…Cazzo…you’re too fuckin’ sexy.” Through a growl, he smacked down a few messy kisses along your thighs. “I can’t believe we just did that…”

You whispered, biting back a giggle, the afterglow starting to hit you as you let out a happy sigh. Theodore was about to reply when suddenly a loud boom of the main doors opening and closing was heard, followed by a few distanced voices.

“Fuck! Come on!” He whispered in a panic while he helped you put yourself together, shoving his cum covered cock back in his pants. Grabbing your hand, Theo led you over to the other side of the bleachers, careful to not get caught by whoever had roamed into the brisk rink.

Both of you getting a rush of adrenaline, but even through that rush, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Even through the anxious feelings. You knew the fun had only just begun.

Pt.2 hehehehe Theo just LOVES munching on us in every au Istg, @amiableness had the best idea and I love watching it slowly come to life🥹 Next part maaaay contain some locker room fun for a little good luck 👀

Love my smut sluts, as always asks and requests are open💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙