#and that is GOOD actually because their clubhouse fucking sucks

[skullamity]

Someone very clearly and carefully picking their words to communicate to you (general) that the reason that transphobes mistreat/harm/murder trans women is because transphobes consider trans women to be men

IS NOT an admission that the person who is very clearly and carefully picking their words to communicate the position of transphobes to you agrees with the position that transphobes have re: trans women not being women.

The point is that how transphobes perceive trans women does not actually determine a trans woman's actual gender. It doesn't matter if transphobes think that trans women are devient men, because that has no bearing on any trans woman's internal sense of self.

But, it is important to acknowledge that this is the position that transphobes have, because pretending that their motives are something that makes you personally feel less dysphoric (transphobes hate trans women specifically because trans women are women and being a woman means living a life of suffering, so this is affirming in a way) instead of their very clearly and loudly proclaimed motives (trans women are deviant men forcing their way into women's spaces for sexual reasons, while using "woke" rhetoric as a cover for their true and nefarious intentions) actively makes trans women who buy into your wishful thinking motivations theory less safe overall.

I hate to be the one to break it to you, but cis women do not generally spend their every waking hour lamenting how their lives are endless suffering because they are women--most cis women do not generally consider being a cis woman to be particularly hard overall as a baseline. They straight up don't think about this shit and if you asked the average cis woman how things are going, she'd probably have some minor complaints about the economy or whatever, but she would not break down and wail about how much suffering she's currently experiencing.

In fact, if you think about it for more than a fucking second, you will find that the only cis women you will generally hear screaming about how life, both as a woman and for women on the whole, is a pit of despair and suffering? Tend to be TERFS and/or cis radfems who hate men in general, and consider trans women to be men.

I promise you do not have to take TERFS at their word that being a woman means to suffer. That you suffering as a result of poor treatment at the hands of TERFS should not be affirming, because those TERFs DO NOT see you as women and are outwardly saying that your existence is contributing to the suffering of cis women, because, again, they do not see trans women as women.

Acknowledging that this is what transphobes think about trans women does not imply agreement with their position, and I am very sorry if that makes you feel dysphoric, but it is, in fact, the truth. Not that you ARE a deviant man, but that this is what transphobes specifically and explicitly believe about you, no matter how much you want to believe that they are mistreating you because you're a woman, and this is affirming because to be a woman is to suffer.

I promise you that you do not have to settle for a life of suffering to appease people who literally do not see you the way you seem to think they must. You don't owe anyone your own suffering! You don't have to give that to them! You can find positive means of affirmation that do not mean that you need to suffer!

Suffering is not proof that you are a woman, it is proof that people want you to suffer and are doing their best to make that happen to you. You do not have to hand that to them on a silver platter. Suffering for the sake of people who want to do you harm is not a cross you have to bear, you can literally just tell anyone who thinks that you can only be a True Woman if you hit some sort of suffering threshold to go fuck themselves.

Acknowledging what transphobes actually think does not mean conceding to their positions, it does not mean that you agree with them, and it will not bar you from being a woman.

If you can acknowledge the truth of how transphobes see you, then you can take steps to better protect yourself and you will spend less of your time trying to get them to see you as "one of the good ones" because look at how much suffering you are experiencing!

No matter how much you suffer, it will not ever get a transphobe to concede that you are a woman, because they do not believe that you are one and never will.

So don't fucking suffer for them! Go find validation from places and people who want you to thrive! Because in the end it doesn't fucking matter if transphobes see you as a man, because their opinions should not matter to you personally.

I have literally never listened to someone rant about how much suffering I'd have to do for them to accept me and thought to myself "gosh, I better get suffering then!" because that's a shitty person being excruciatingly clear about exactly how shitty they are. Why would you wanna be besties with them? Why would you want them to accept you when their opinions about your own humanity and identity are so obviously and patently shit?

They are going to be mad at you whether you are suffering or not, so actively choose not to suffer! It will make them so fucking mad to see you happy and making connections with people who want good things to happen to and for you, so you should pick that option every fucking time, even if it's just out of spite!

Velvet does not believe trans women are men, I do not believe trans women are men. It is my fondest fucking with for trans women to be happy and thriving and affirmed! Acknowledging that people who want the worst for you have shitty opinions about you isn't agreeing with them, it's just putting some nice big red flags around anyone who insists that if you just suffer enough and throw enough of of the trans people around you under the bus, one day they will be generous enough to invite you into the Secret True Women Only club.

They are lying to you! They just want you to suffer! And pretending that their motives are instead something that feels affirming is only going to guarantee that you suffer, so you need to actively choose not to suffer going forwards! And part of choosing not to suffer? Is making an active choice to not stubbornly insist that anyone who is willing to acknowledge the shitty things that shitty people think about you and people like you is proof that they agree with those shitty people and their positions. Christ.

Okay first off please don't take this the wrong way I promise I'm not trying to say trans women all have male privilege or something. I think it is perhaps important to consider that while trans women do make up the majority of trans homicide victims, generally (cis) men make up the majority of homicide victims. In 2020 in the US, men made up 82% of victims.

I think trans women being killed more than trans men isn't necessarily because of transmisogyny being so strong or w/e, but a combination of people being more okay with killing people *they view as* men, and because transfems are much more likely to be sex workers than transmascs (though that may be caused by transmisogyny). Gay men are also killed at much higher rates than lesbians, and usually most homophobic rhetoric and laws and tropes are targeting gay men specifically, but I haven't seen this used to say lesbians have it significantly better, or have structural power over gay men, the way I have seen the same used to say that about trans men

Obviously, trans women are not men and trans men are not women, but to transphobes enacting violence, they are. Imo, it's important to keep in mind that transphobes do not actually view trans people as the gender that they are, and this means that the mistreatment of us will mirror the mistreatment of the gender we are transitioning away from, not towards.

I'm not saying that trans men have it worse, or that trans women all secretly have male privilege or something, just that less overt obvious violence towards trans men does not mean we have it significantly better, just as lesbians facing less overt obvious violence does not mean they have it much better than gay men. If you argue that gay cis men have it worse than lesbian cis women because of this, fair enough, that's consistent, but you can't define male privilege as "the privilege men of any group will always have over women of the same group all else being equal" if you do. (Or you could argue cis gay men are also affected by transmisogyny, I guess?)

Genuinely please don't bite my head off for saying transphobes don't actually view trans women as women (and vice versa) and that affects how they're treated skdkfkdjxhd if you have a good faith criticism of this post I'm all ears

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 24a

*Warning Adult Content*

Daddy - Part 1

- Everett -

As Everett blinks the sleep from his eyes, he carefully turns over in bed to take in the sight of Knox's sleeping form beside him.

The morning sun casts a soft light around them both, unintentionally accentuating Knox's handsome features.

Everett's gaze travels from the long, dark eyelashes that rest against Knox's cheeks to the faint stubble gracing his jaw.

His full lips are slightly parted, inviting a kiss but Everett doesn't cross the line.

Not yet.

He's never seen Knox look this relaxed before and he doesn't want to disturb him.

It's almost as if Knox had transformed into Sleeping Beauty because the man who had nearly beaten the Cupid's Stop Motel owner to death is nowhere to be found.

Everett understands, however, that this moment of peace is only temporary.

It doesn't matter that Knox has locked his beast back in its cage.

He and everyone else knows it's only a matter of time before it breaks free and wreaks havoc again.

That type of darkness cannot be contained.

Everett often wonders, even more so these days, if there's space left for him in the chaotic world that Knox inhabits.

That or if everything they've done and have said up until now has all been for nothing... just sporadic, fleeting moments of happiness in the midst of total madness.

Who fucking knows anymore.

They're still alive and breathing, living to see another day which Everett is thankful for because the thought of losing Knox in any way makes Everett's heart clench.

The mere thought of finally leaving the clubhouse and turning into nothing but a hazy memory in the back of Knox's mind is enough to send Everett spiraling.

The truth is that he desperately wants to be more than roommates with Knox, so much more but he also can't ignore it when reality hits to remind him that he's reaching for something that's far beyond the stars.

'Fuck it.'

Everett purges the painful thoughts from his mind and refocuses on the present.

His fingers give in to temptation and with the lightest touch, he glides an index finger across Knox's brow, then down the slope of his nose.

The warmth of Knox's skin sends a shiver down Everett's spine.

It pushes forth wicked images and desires that swiftly replace the darkness that crept inside his mind.

'Whatever this is that we have, I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts. I can't do anything else but that.'

Everett drags his finger across Knox's bottom lip while licking his own.

He moves in closer to kiss the man, then decides against it at the last second.

As he withdraws his hand, Knox opens his eyes and grips his wrist to keep it in place.

"Hey. Y-you're supposed to be sleeping," Everett exclaims, his cheeks hot with embarrassment. "Now you made this all weird."

"Me?" Knox kisses the inside of Everett's palm while chuckling. "But you started this," Knox says, his gaze intense and focused. "And I expect you to finish it."

Everett raises his brow in question.

"How do you want me to do that?"

"You told me last night that you wanted my cock for another round, remember?" Knox guides Everett's hand down his body without breaking eye contact, placing it directly on top of his morning wood.

Everett gasps and his hand curls around it instinctively.

"Suck me," Knox repeats Everett's words from last night, his voice even and rough. "Do a good job and maybe I'll let you ride it tonight."

Everett nearly moans at that.

He wordlessly accepts the challenge by leaning over to kiss Knox, their tongues clashing as his thumb caresses the leaking head of Knox's shaft, it's long and thick, a prominent vein running down one side.

Everett has no idea if it will actually fit inside him or not but he's excited to find out.

"No teasing, kitten. Want your mouth." Knox pulls Everett's hand back up his body, then he presses Everett's wet fingers against his own mouth. "Clean them," Knox orders. "Then do what I told you to do."

Everett trembles at the filthy command.

Only Knox could boss him around like this in bed and it have his cock hard and throbbing within minutes.

"Do you also want me to call you sir while I'm at it?" Everett quips, licking his fingers clean while Knox continues to hold his wrist. "Some people are into daddy kink and you kinda have the look. I wouldn't be surprised if that's secretly your thing..."

"Enough," Knox cuts Everett off by gripping his throat, gently guiding him down and down until Everett's lips brush against the tip of his erection.

Knox moves his hand again, sinking it into Everett's curls while gripping the base of his dick with his free hand.

"You're lucky I don't feel like getting up to spank your smart ass."

Knox wields his dick and taps at Everett's partially opened mouth.

Everett moans and opens his mouth wider, relaxing his jaw.

"Good boy. Now take it down your throat."

The words spur Everett on.

[drabbles-mc]

Sorry For What?

Happy Lowman x F!Reader

Request from Anon: So if I may request one with happy; slightly angsty, him and reader are fighting, he’s getting turned on, she’s getting angry and he thinks there’s gonna be hate/ fight sex but she’s not having it and pushes him away. Tells him sex won’t solve things this time and banishes him to the couch. Happy sulking, apologizing and fluff ending. 😊

Warnings: language, angst, Happy being stubborn and emotionally illiterate

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Happy thinking he can use sex to get out of an argument is totally a thing lmao

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“That’s not my fault!” you hated yelling but your patience had long since run out, “It’s not my fucking job to be there at your every beck and call.”

Happy stepped in closer to you, his voice wasn’t loud but his tone was sharp enough to cut you like a knife, “You’re supposed to be my old lady. You get what that means? Means you’re supposed to fuckin—”

“Stop!” you cut him off, shaking your head, “Don’t give me that shit. I’m not your servant, I’m not your maid, I’m not your fucking mother. I’m my own person,” you pressed your hand to his chest, “I choose to share my life with you. As a partner. I might be your old lady but you don’t fucking own me, Happy.”

“If you don’t wanna be there, then why are we doing this?” he motioned back and forth between the two of you.

You leaned back, eyes narrowing, “Is that what you got from what I just said?” you shook your head, “Look. I know how the other guys speak to and treat their women. And if they’re all alright with that then…fine. But that’s not me. And you knew that from the jump. I have my own shit going on and I can’t just sit at home all the time and wait for you to need something from me so I can feel like I have a fucking sense of purpose. You’re an important part of my life, Hap, but you’re not the whole thing. Same way I’m not yours.”

“I needed you.”

“And I couldn’t make it!” you snapped, “And I know that sucks. But don’t pretend that the roles haven’t ever been reversed. Why do you get a fucking pass on that, huh?”

He erased what little distance was left between the two of you. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body the angrier he got. His eyes bore into yours, “Because if I step away someone gets fucking shot.”

You nodded, “And that’s the life that you chose. It’s not a blanket excuse for every time you fuck up, though.”

“Why do you stick around then?”

“Because I love you!” you fought the urge to shove him in the chest, “Even when you’re being an asshole!”

You took a breath, trying to get yourself together. You weren’t used to yelling so much. It wasn’t often that you were this pissed off—your fights with Happy were usually small and over quickly. But this time it hit the wrong nerve with you and you needed to allow your blood to boil for a little bit. Sometimes he forgot that you had a temper too—yours just didn’t make you kill people.

Happy reached forward to cup your face in his hand, his other gripping onto your hip to pull you closer. He was about to lean in and kiss you but you pushed him away, “Stop.” You saw the confused look on his face and shook your head, “Sex is not on the table for you right now. This argument isn’t over.”

“Yea, I was trying to end it.”

You laughed, unable to do much else. You looked up at him, “Have you heard anything that I’ve fucking said, Happy?” the silence that followed spoke volumes, “You’re fucking unbelievable sometimes!”

“I never said you had to be done being mad at me.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Trust me. You don’t want me anywhere near your dick right now. Won’t end well for you.”

You turned and went to walk away but he reached forward and grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him. You twisted your arm hard to get it out of his grasp and the look of shock on his face was priceless. He really thought that he was getting out of this argument with you with sex. Not that that hadn’t been an effective tactic in the past, but you were too pissed for that to be a viable solution now.

“And for that you can sleep on the fucking couch tonight,” you snapped.

“Y/N…” there was a hint of warning in his voice.

You didn’t say anything in response. Instead, you opted to walk away towards your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind you to really drive the point home. It only took a few moments for you to be able to hear the sound of the television filling the house. Happy might’ve been stubborn but at least he knew well enough to give you some time to cool off before he came and tried to talk to you again. Hopefully this time around he’d realize he was actually going to have to talk.

You’d lost track of how long you had been laid up in bed. You had your headphones in, a mellow playlist on while you read your book. Your anger had mostly subsided for the time being, allowing you to focus on something other than the fact that you had been this close to telling Happy he could sleep at the clubhouse for the night.

There was a faint noise that was coming in over the music you were listening to. You took one headphone out and realized it was the sound of Happy knocking on the bedroom door. You sighed as you set your phone and book off to the side.

“Yea?”

He slowly opened the door and poked his head inside. His expression was neutral, like it almost always was, “I don’t wanna sleep on the couch.”

You arched one eyebrow, “Tough shit.”

He walked completely into the room, “C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Like what? I’m allowed to be mad at you, Happy.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “I am.”

There were a few beats of silence before he finally spoke up again, clearly trying to choose his words carefully, “I’m sorry.”

You had to admit that you were impressed. Blatant apologies like that were never his strong suit. Still, you pressed him for more, “For?”

“For making you mad.”                                                    

You chuckled—it wasn’t an inaccurate apology. As much as you wanted to stay mad you found yourself smiling a little bit, “You really don’t wanna sleep on the couch, huh?”

He shook his head, “No.”

You sighed but gestured for him to come closer. When he reached the side of your bed you motioned for him to stop before getting in, “No more trying to use sex to get out of tough conversations, Hap,” you saw the disbelieving look on his face, “I’m serious!”

“What’s considered tough?”

You laughed, resting your head back against the headboard, “If me being pissed off was put to a scale of one to ten, if I’m above a…five? No using sex to get out of conversations.”

“Five?”

“Listen, I was easily at least at a seven tonight. You’re lucky you came away unscathed.”

“Do I get to sleep in here with you tonight?”

“I’m still mad. You don’t get to just talk to me like that. That’s not what we do here,” you gestured between the two of you.

He wasn’t always the best at expressing himself verbally, but you could see it in his eyes that he knew that he struck a very raw nerve with you. “I’m sorry. I’ll…I’ll do better.”

You nodded, “Good,” only then did you pat the spot on the bed next to you, “Come on, then. Get in here and stop looking at me with those sad angry eyes.”

He let a smile cross his face for a moment as he stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed beside you. He shimmied down and let his face come level with yours. You reached out, gently running your fingertips along the stubble that coated his face. You could tell from the tension in his body that he was fighting the urge to reach out and touch you.

You let out a chuckle at his hesitancy, “Does Happy Lowman want to…cuddle?”

“Shut up.”

Your chuckle shifted into a genuine laugh, “Are you nervous to cuddle with me?”

“You said—”

“I know,” you patted his chest lightly, “I know. Come here,” you rested your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him close to you, pressing a light kiss to his lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Even when I’m mad at you.”

The remark got him to smile. He rested his forehead against yours and let his arms snake around your waist. Heat bled over from his skin into yours and you felt yourself melting into him despite the fact that you had been ready to kick him out not too long before.

“So you’re set on five?” he mumbled.

You laughed, nodding, “Yea. Don’t push your luck about it.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Fine.”

[rebelwrites]

Sorry, For Everything

Jax Teller x Reader 

You had no idea how two people who supposedly loved each other could find things to argue for hours over, but here you where, stood in the middle of the club house, shaking like a leaf from the anger than ran through your veins.

In reality you should have seen this coming, for the past couple of months your relationship with Jax was showing cracks and it was only a matter of time it blew up causing you both to go head to head with each other. It unfortunately had to happen whilst you was at the clubhouse, in front of everyone.

“You need to calm the fuck down” Jax spat “you are causing a fucking scene”

“Oh I’m causing a scene” you fake gasped “how dear I, I forgot old ladies are meant to be seen and not pissing heard”

“I’m not doing this here” Jax shouted pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t care, it’s not like you will be home to continue this here” you screamed, hot tears running down your cheeks. “You are never fucking home anymore, never want to spend time with me”

“Y/N don’t” he said in a warning tone.

“No you’d rather get you dick sucked by a fucking skanky crow eater” you had completely lost all rationality now. “Or how about you let me raise a child on my fucking own”

“He isn’t even your son” Jax spat, he knew it was a low blow as he watched your face scrunch up.

“No Jax he isn’t my son but I was the bigger person and for the last two years I have raised that boy as if he was my own” you hissed.

“What do you want me to do?” Jax laughed holding his arms out.

“I want you to be a fucking man, admit you was wrong and I don’t know actually love the person you asked to marry you”

“You know I can’t do that Y/N” he sighed.

“What be a man or fucking love your fiancé” you cried “all I have ever done is loved you for who you are, through the good, bad and fucking ugly, I have never once tried to change you, yet here you are throwing everything back into my face”

“You’re wrong Y/N” he roared taking a step forward.

“Nothing new there then Teller” you spat venom lacing your voice “Apparently, in your eyes, I’m always fucking wrong!”

“You know I love you” he whispered, he knew where this was going and a single tear fell down his face.

“Funny fucking way of showing it” you laughed as you lit a joint. “I don’t think you have told me you love me in the last 6 months, not even once, you don’t even hug me anymore. A lot of the time I feel like a stranger in my own fucking home”

“That’s it just get high” he scoffed “just like you get wasted every night”

“Maybe it’s because I want to escape the hell that is my life” you snapped.

“Just go home Y/N” Jax sighed “we can discuss this like adults and fix things”

“Awww cute how you think we can fix this shit show” you laughed “I’ve been watching the cracks form in our relationship for the past 6 months and I’ve tried everything to make sure we didn’t fall apart yet here we are”

“You know things are bad with the-“

“Swear to god if you say the club I will deck you” you sneared. “There’s always an excuse with you Jax, it’s like I’m just a big joke to you. Tell me something did you ever fucking love me?”

“Yes, and I still fucking do love you” he sighed. “Just give me another chance. Please”

“I’ve given you numerous chances and you blew them all” you cried as you tossed the joint into the ashtray and your fingers found your engagement ring, Jax eyes following every move.

“Baby please don’t” he said as the tears fell down his cheeks.

“Why?” You asked “we both know that in what a week or so we will be back to how we are, it’s happened every time I’ve given you another chance, well I’m sorry I’ve got no more chances to give”

Sliding the ring off your finger it felt like a brick as it laid in the palm of your hand.

“I need to protect my heart” you whispered.

You both stood there in silence, just staring at each other, yes you still loved Jax but this was the final straw, it was obvious you and him wasn’t meant to be together.

“We can’t keep doing this Jax” you sobbed “I can’t keep doing this.”

He stepped forward closing the gap between you, using his thumb to wipe away your tears, his eyes filled with sadness, he knew what was coming next. He knew he had fucked up big time and there was nothing in this world that could fix things. It was far too late.

“Take care Jax” you sniffled not looking him in his eyes.

“I’m sorry” he whispered placing a soft kiss on your forehead “for everything”

[groovyzombiellama]

You Look Perfect 4

Title: You Look Perfect 4

Requested? No.

Plot: You get married to the love of your life, with all the people you love present, finally feeling happy again. You’re a fucking Teller now.

Word count: 1232

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

---***---

You were once again staring at your reflection in the mirror, but this time you were more than excited to be doing this. You made sure Jax didn't see you before you left to walk the isle and you had one of your cousins make sure that the traditional wedding march would be playing as you walk down. You didn't expect Jax to prepare a huge ceremony when he was ready to propose to you. You weren't expecting a room filled with flowers or a cute scavenger hunt by clues towards the ring. Because you knew that wasn't Jax, it wasn't the kind of person he is. Sure, he has romantic moments, but you didn't even need an over the top proposal. You were happy with just getting married to the man you love. It did take you by surprise a bit that he actually wants to get married in the place where you were supposed to be marrying another man, but you figured it was his way of triumphing over your almost husband, managing to marry you in the same place he failed. You felt your hand shaking, as your nerves kicked in. You were more than sure that you were gonna marry Jax and that he was the only man for you, and the jitters you were feeling was overwhelming excitement to finally become Mrs Teller.

Saying your name combined with Jax’s last name over and over in your head made you smile wider than you ever have, and the only thing that brought you down to earth was Gemma and your mother entering the room whenre you were, to make sure you were ready, and to help you with anything you needed. Gemma once again apologised to you, and you once again assured her that she didn’t have to apologise, because you understood how she felt and that you would feel the same for your children. If tomorrow Thomas, or Abel, or one of the children you get pregnant with in the future with Jax was in the same situation, you would have felt exactly the same, and even if the way she worded things did hurt you a bit, you were okay. Gemma never really was the one for saying sorry, so to hear her say it to you, not once but twice, signaled to you that she must really like you. You had to be the strongerst you’ve ever been not to start crying and ruin your makeup when your mother gave you a box with a hair clip that she wore when she got married to your father, and wanted you to wear it on your wedding day.

Even if they would be happy tears, today was a day for smiles and laughter, because you were gonna marry the love of your life. Soon your dad knocked on the door of the room, and informed you it was time. You took a deep breath, hugging your mother and your soon to be mother-in-law, and you were all out the door, the two women taking their places in the front rows of the venue. Some of the people that your almost husband invited had left the venue, seemingly only there because he invited them or payed them to be there, but you were pleasently surprised to see that some of them actually stayed, like his sister, who wanted to be back on good terms with you, and knew the whole truth from the beginning and even she didn’t agree with you marrying her brother if you didn’t love him and knowing him as well as she does, she knew he wasn’t being a great person to you.

Hearing the music playing, Jax smirked. Even though you were fully on board with the whole biker life, and never yearned for cliché things like happily ever afters, you had those moments where the part of you that was a helpless romantic popped out and you wanted to experience a kiss in the rain or having traditional wedding music play as you walked down the aisle, even though he was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and his kutte. But he knew you accepted him just the way he was and there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. As the door of the venue opened, Jax looked up, and sucked in a sharp breath when he saw you. You were in a beautiful gown, sure, your ex fiancé was the one to buy it for you, but it was one of the reasons why Jax felt his ego being fed. He was gonna be the one to marry you in the venue where the other guy could not, he was the one to marry you in the dress the other guy could not.

He wanted to see you look like an angel, but in the end, it was Jax who was seeing you like this, and he was damn proud that out of all the men in the world, you chose him. You chose him to be yours and to be his. To be his wife and the mother of his children. The smile on your face as you looked at him was your most beautiful makeup to him and he couldn’t help but mirror it. As you reached him and your father hugged both of you, kissing your forehead, he moved to stand next to your mother as Jax took your hands in his, whispering how beautiful you looked, making your cheeks flush. Hearing Jax say “I do“ and then saying it yourslef felt magical. It felt like you were on cloud nine and you didn’t want to come down. Sure you knew that life was gonna throw a lot of things at you and you will never truly be away from danger, but you knew that you had each other and that you were gonna do your best to protect Jax and your babies as much as him.

“I’m a fucking Teller everyone! This is the happiest day of my life!“

You yelled out when the priest pronounced you husband and wife, making everyone in the venue laugh, followed by Jax grabbing your face in his hands gently, “he may now kiss his bride“, that sentence was music to his ears. Feeling his soft lips on yours had you melting into him and you never wanted it to end. He took off his kutte and placed it on your shoulders. You exchanged “I love you’s“ and one more kiss before gathering all of the guests and heading over to the clubhouse for a party to celebrate your wedding. You were ready to start your life with Jax, and not even the revenge that your almost husband thinks he can plan was gonna scare you away from this life, you were gonna fight against Jax’s side until the day you die. You were snuggled with your back against his chest, sitting in his lap, his strong arms around you, watching all the people you loved dance and have fun celebrating your marriage. You suddenly felt Jax kissing your neck, in just the right spots he knows would cause you to moan, and you knew what he wanted, so the two of you ended up sneaking off to his room, making love for the first time as husband and wife.

---***---

God I love this man!!! <3 Charlie Hunnam will forever be my biggest crush <3

Finally I have part 4 out, after so long, I hope you like it, I just wanted to get this out, and one more fic that was roaming in my head for a while now before I go back to my inbox and requests :)

[askandsmile]

i got all y'all's messages and i do think i have more to say, but at the same time i'm just like 🥴️🥴️🥴️

this season isn't great, but this episode was terrible. evan is a terrible writer. he's also a fucked up troll. he likes that he's the b*rchie king, he likes b*rchie, he projects onto them. and truly, the less we try to explain anything about this, the better.

i think i need to wait and watch what comes next (from better writer's hands tbh) until i say anything else regarding canon.

but long post ahead, cause i've been wanting to address something that it's not even coherent, but it's just making me insane lol.

we have 6 episodes ahead of us. 6 weeks. if you guys freak out with every single thing that happens, no one is going to enjoy anything anymore.

i don't have spoilers. all the spoilers i had, from when i was in the clubhouse with evan, i gave to you. the way i read the interviews, i told you. i don't have anything else to add. i never had inside info or anything like that, all my speculations were based on rumors going around *and* the bts we got.

all that i could speculate i already did.

"oh, but what if--"

well. when s4 ended, i said, "if they're gonna make veronica look like archie's second choice, i'm not going to watch s5 live". i carried on watching because they didn't, they made it quite clear that veronica is archie's first choice seven years later.

i'm saying it again, "if they're gonna make varchie go through some b*rchie drama/bullshit again, i'm not going to watch s6 live."

if i do watch it, it'll be the same by the end of it if they get a s7. you have to go episode by episode with this show until the entire journey makes sense.

that's all i can do! that's all i can control. that's all you guys can control: the time and dedication you're willing to give to this show.

(i write a fic that's never-ending and even with roughly 4 readers left, i am pushing through because i want to finish it. this is the time and dedication i'm willing to give to this show, writing this fic to those who still enjoy it and to myself, and to varchie.)

so my suggestion now is, let's watch the episodes. it's 6 weeks. are you going to be anxious for 4-5 out of 6 weeks because of something that maybe, possibly, perhaps will happen? are you going to try to make me and other people anxious because you are? i'm choosing, at this point, to trust my ship and the story they've been telling about them.

i know it's harder for bugheads at the moment (reminder that i, myself, am not one although i did love them back in s1 and do support their relationship in the core four context) because they've been dealing with another love interest, on top of cole and lili's breakup, on top of not getting a lot of content, or bts, etc, etc.

but as a varchie shipper...guys, i've been there!

i have seen reggie tell veronica they could be endgame. i have seen archie dance a duet with josie saying he'd fight for her. i have seen archie writing a song to someone else. i have seen veronica getting married to another guy, and then possibly sleep with him after sort of maybe getting back together with archie. trust me, no one in this fandom knows better what you guys are going through right now.

so yes, maybe jabitha will date, or maybe they won't. maybe bh will get back together this season, maybe they won't. it doesn't mean the end of bughead, not at all. look at all the shit other ships have been through (even b*rchies, really). you guys are fine.

is the show good right now? no, it's not. i thought it wasn't so bad until 5x08 (even with the b*rchie thing) but then it just went downhill, and 5x13 was the worst episode ever. no wonder it had 0.7 ratings. but like, does that mean it will stay so bad? i don't know. i haven't watched 5x14, 5x15, 5x16, etc. i don't know what's coming. it might be great! it might suck.

and you guys don't get it, half the varchie fandom left in s3 because there was no sight of varchie anywhere, and then we were pleasantly surprised with the best build up ever in s3C. but you know what? sometimes i wish varchie hadn't gotten back together then! so we would see more of that buildup, some actual reaction from archie seeing veronica choose reggie instead of him, etc. it would've opened a sea of possibilities for a good story.

and whether you like it or not, this is giving more space for other characters to be around. they're not developing them. they're not writing them well. but you can't deny that we have seen more of toni, reggie, fangs, even kevin and cheryl, than ever since...ever.

and it's okay if you just watch for your ship. but the show, and the writers, are not worried about you shdhshd. i think there has been a misconception about that. the ships exist within the show, and this season feels so weird because the core four is apart and bh is apart, but the show is ultimately about the characters and their good/bad decisions.

so, thinking about the characters, ask yourself: is archie in conditions to be with veronica right now? is betty in conditions to be with jughead right now? jug and archie are in their way to healing, it looks like, but betty still isn't. is veronica in conditions to be committed again atm? i don't know. will this change in a couple of episodes? maybe!

and it's same for other characters. choni are going through the exact same thing bh is, they just don't have the impending doom that is b*rchie hovering above, but i guess no one doubts choni.

but imagine if they get back to choni and just give them a few throw away lines and boom, it's all magically fixed. wouldn't they feel betrayed? don't you enjoy the aspect that bh is taking time for this reunion after they were completely shattered? i know i would've written varchie differently if i could.

anyway. it's useless to think "oh, zalben said this, evan said that, ras said this" when we can't control what they say, or how they think. we can only interpret it (90% of the time i've been right about them but whatever) and we can only watch the show in front of us and absorb something from that.

(which is hard when the episode sucks, but it's what we can do).

all this freaking out is making me stop enjoying the show, and the fandom. it's not giving anyone any joy. you guys have to calm down and i'm not being dismissive of how much a tv show can bring anxiety, but the only thing you can do is trust the process.

bughead has been a solid thing for 4 seasons. it's their first major problem. varchie has been not that solid but very, very present for 4 seasons. b*rchie has been whatever it has been for 4 seasons. jabitha is a new ship, but it's around now... but hasn't even really happened yet. like, all these characters have their stories to tell among them, and if we don't enjoy the road they take, we can only try to detach ourselves.

okay, i guess, that's it. i'm not sure if i make any sense, but i'm so exhausted of people not trusting what's being shown to them and only thinking about zalben, bdaily takes, evan, ras, yadayada, who the rvd writers liked on twitter, like... c'mon.

[beeroses]

Keyed Up

@lilacyennefer​

@write-it-motherfuckers​

^ Thanks to these two blogs for the prompt. It got the writing motor going! And kudos on the gif to the owner, it is not mine! Nor are Tig and the Sons, which I voluntarily relinquish to Kurt Sutter and his brilliant, twisted mind!

Warnings: Language and a lot of not-so-subtle Tig 

Story based on this prompt below : 

Living in Charming wasn’t Plan A. By God, it wasn’t even plan H. Yet, that’s where Y/N’s been living for the last year and a half and it has been most probably the best year ever. Between working 2 jobs and handling, well, let’s be fair, an entire kindergarten of adult bikers, life’s been busy but quite bright and fulfilling. Handing up hanging around the Sons has been a series of happy coincidences that went from meeting them at the diner you worked at to helping bartending on busy weekends at the Clubhouse to them bluntly asking that you helped with bookkeeping. Starting first with the garage, you became quite aware of what was going on around the lot but got no details. But when you started doing the books from the club, they couldn’t hide you their activities anymore. Instead of fleeing, like they thought you would, you actually found a way to possibly care about them anymore. Instead of the whole thing scaring you, it actually got you very protective of them and more scared of them getting hurt than you getting mixed in the very bloody scene they played on. 

One Son brought a side of you that you didn’t know existed, before meeting him : something along the lines of a momma bear with her cub or a giant mountain gorilla with his offspring. The question remained though as to which came first? Did you start worrying about Tig more because of much he knew just how to put himself in the worst possible scenarios? Or did you over exaggerate the actual amount of danger surrounding the man? One way or another, although you always made sure everyone was alright, you paid extra attention for any kind of scratches or heavy bleeding on Tig. 

- We’re off on a run for a couple of days, Sweetheart, will you be able to come keep an eye on the garage, Jax asked you. 

- Of course, have some books to finish up anyways and it’s gonna be so damn peaceful without all of you around to bother me! 

- You do know you’re faking bothered and you’re not even good at it, right ? Tig asked you, smirking while making you blush slightly. 

- It’s not because Y/N answers your every needs and calls that you’re not a bother, Jax replied, rolling his eyes at the obvious manoeuvre Tig was trying to pull. 

- No, it’s because I’m Y/N’s favorite, he answered back, putting a very confident arm comfortably around your shoulders, pulling you to him, while your face felt so hot, an egg could’ve fried. 

You quickly got up, mumbling something to do on the something about something that you promised to something and disappeared in the other room. The boys were left chuckling about it and Tig was left wth a tingling all along his arm, where he held you. 

When the boys left, you finally showed yourself again to say goodbye and tell them that everything was under control. 

The hours and days ticked by painfully slowly while the Sons were off doing God knows what with God knows who. You managed to close a lot of books that were piling up but deeply missed the ruckus that the boys brought around the clubhouse : it made it alive. 

You did have many very decent qualities to you, but being the kind of person that always had a phone around in case of emergencies wasn’t one of them. Which meant, it often stayed on your bedside table or on the kitchen counter for the entire day, because ou forgot it there that morning. You always said it made you mysterious but for most, it just made you impossible to reach. Calendars have always been a big mess as well. Never fully knowing which day it is, you still always found yourself at the right place where you’re supposed to be. 

Leading to that evening. It was engraved in your memory that the boys were coming tomorrow therefore, obviously, they couldn’t be coming tonight, right? 

You went out with friends for an old-fashioned diner-movies-gossiping, which basically always ended in : When are you and Tig finally get together? And you desperately changing the subject, blushing and babbling about him being just a good friend, nothing more, just like the others. our friends laughing that you could actually believe yourself. 

The thing is, tomorrow would not be the day the boys arrived home because tonight was. And your cellphone may have been beeping and lightening up and ringing, the fact it was tuckered under a pillow on your couch made it absolutely impossible for you to notice it. 

You came home fairly late that evening, fiddling with your keys when you heard loud noises coming from the inside of your house. Panicked, you took  a flower pot from your porch and slowly unlock the door and opened it. Peeking inside, you waited for indications as to where the sound was coming from. You heard nothing for a while and decided to go in slowly to try and found out what was going on. And then, coming out of your bedroom door with a baseball bat in his hands stood… Tig. Fucking. Trager. You put the flower pot down and opened the lights to see him bleeding from his arm and with a scratch on his head. 

- WHAT THE HELL TIGGY?? 

- WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, WE’VE BEEN TRYING TO CALL YOU FOR 2 HOURS STRAIGHT, I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. WHAT DID WE SAY ABOUT YOUR CELLPHONE??

You blushed slightly, realizing your phone was left at home and the boys were actually worried about you. You took it from under the pillow and threw a shy smile at Tig. 

- Oops… Hey! Wait a minute. How did you actually get in?

You pushed pass him, ignoring the bleeding he had on his arm for another minute while you went to look at your bedroom window. You turned back at him and sighed, rolling your eyes in *faked* annoyance 

- You have got to stop breaking into my house.

He smiled coyly at you. 

- I wouldn’t have to if you’d just give me the keys, while throwing you a flirty wink. 

You grabbed his unhurt arm and dragged him to your bathroom where you could deal with his injuries. You forced him to take a seat and took upon yourself to find something to treat him. While you looked for alcohol swabs, he took his sweet time detailing your face, your eyes and your body in the nice clothes you decided to wear to go out. When you turned around, you saw his eyes glued to you and couldn’t help your blushing. You dealt with his minor injury quickly and threw all the stuff you used away. While your back was slightly turned to him, he grabbed your waist and pulled you on his lap. Feeling his breath on your neck and on the soft skin right behind your ear made you both giddy and very nervous. 

- I’m not kidding, if you’d just give me that key of yours… he murmured, lips close to your ear

- Tiggy, you just threw yourself through my bedroom window, I don’t think giving you the key would be safe, you mocked, trying to keep some kind of composure. 

- What if instead of crashing through your window, I wanted to come crash here, sometimes, he insisted teasingly, while you felt his nose in the crook of your neck and his hand on your thigh, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

- Tig… you breathed out.

Hearing his name being said so close to a moan made him turn your head towards him and pull you into a steamy kiss. After a while (could’ve been a minute, could’ve been three hours, you really did suck with time), the two of you pulled away to try and catch a breath. You stood up, turned around and left the bathroom. Tig, left alone with wide eyes, started freaking out, thinking he went too far, too fast, again. But this time, he bit his tongue for pushing away someone he truly cares about. Panicked and wild-eyed, he gets up and starts following you to explain but bumps into you when he gets out of the bathroom. 

Standing there, with a crooked smile on your face, you grabbed his hand to pull him into another kiss while discreetly slipping your key in the hand you were holding. You felt him smile against your lips while he grabbed you to pull you even closer to him. 

Nothing needed to be said. He had your key and you had no certainty that he wouldn’t still break into your house just because. But you sure wouldn’t have it any other way, because he may had your key now, but you had him and it’s all that mattered. 

[drabbles-mc]

Wear Something Else

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request from Anon: I have a request for my baby boi Angel 🥺👉🏼���🏼 one day the reader asks him to go to dinner with her and some friends since some of their boys will be there too. He says no, he’ll just be at the clubhouse with the guys. So, as the reader is getting dressed, Angel stops in and gives her the whole list of things to be careful for, watch her, call if she needs anything etc. when reader walks out in her dress (tight in all the right places, cleavage, slit just a tad too high) Angel tells her to change She refuses, telling him that she invited him out and he said no so now he has to deal with the consequences. While gone, reader texts Angel a few times, but to gets no reply. She is worried by the time she walks into her place only to see him sitting on her couch very mad. She gets angry about him not replying to her but he just stands and comes to her, stopping her mid rant with a hand around her throat. He says something like “I’m going to teach you a lesson in obedience” and fucks her hard until she remembers who she belongs to

Warnings: language, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, Angel being a jealous boy

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Once I set about writing this I realized I’ve never really written a fic where one of the guys is really jealous and/or possessive. So sorry if it reads a little awkward at parts, it’s just not something I’m super versed with haha. Hope you enjoy! xo (Also I didn’t get super descriptive with the dress because everyone is comfortable with different things, so I left it kind of vague. It’s whatever y’all want it to be!)

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @encounterthepast @helli4nthus @lilacyennefer @angelreyesgirl @everyhowlmarksthedead @starrynite7114 @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @mijop​ @sadeyesgf​ @xladymacbethx​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​ @yourwonkywriter​ @sesamepancakes​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @amandinesblogofstuff​ @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​

“You sure you don’t want to go out with us?” you asked him as you grabbed a towel so you could go and shower, “They picked a really good restaurant.”

He shook his head, “Nah, not this time. You go, have fun. Just let me know when you get there safe, alright?” he paused and you nodded, then he continued, “And drop me a text when you’re on your way home so I know you’re all okay. If anything happens—”

You cut him off, trying to bit back a smile, “If anything happens, call. Make sure I keep my pepper spray at the top of my purse, remember there’s the knife in my driver’s door if I need it,” you shook your head, “I know, baby. We do this every time I go somewhere. I got it down.”

He chuckled, walking over and wrapping you up in a hug that kept you tight against his chest, “I’m sorry, querida. Just wanna make sure you’re being safe out there.”

“Aren’t I always?” you gave him a light squeeze, “But not for nothing, you wouldn’t have to worry if you came with me.”

“I just—”

“Need your guy time,” you finished the sentence for him with a laugh, “I know. I’m just saying.”

He laughed, playfully shoving you towards the door to your bedroom, “Go shower.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you made your way out of the room. You really couldn’t give him too much attitude about not going with you—more often than not he was more than happy to go out with you and your friends.  It didn’t actually bother you that he didn’t want to go, but you still liked to give him a bit of a hard time about it just because.

You were sat in front of your mirror, still wrapped in your towel as you got started on your makeup. Angel poked his head into the room, and you could see the smile on his face through the reflection. You waited for a moment to see if he was going to say anything, but when he didn’t, you went back to your routine. A few minutes later you looked up again and he was gone.

The next time you saw him, you were sitting on your bed strapping your heels on. He reappeared in the doorway, eyes growing wide as he looked at you. You flashed him a smile as you fumbled with the tiny buckle on your shoes. He stepped completely into the room, towering over you as he walked over to the bed.

“Yea?” you stood up, even with heels on still not quite coming eye-to-eye with him.

“This what you’re wearing?” he looked you up and down.

You laughed, “Um…yes? Why?”

“The restaurant you’re going to happen to have a catwalk with a silver pole at the end of it or nah?”

You shook your head, not able to believe that you were really about to have this conversation with him, “Angel, don’t be ridiculous.”

“You can’t wear this shit to dinner with your friends,” his fingers trailed lightly along the fabric of your dress, tugging down lightly on the bottom hem as if that was going to make it longer somehow.

You cocked one eyebrow, “Why not? I look good.”

“Yea, and you’re not going anywhere by yourself looking this good,” he shook his head as his eyes continued to rake over your body, the pads of his fingers finding their way to the straps of your dress and fussing with them.

You gently pushed his hands off of you, “You declined the invite, baby. I offered for you to come with me. But you didn’t want to, and that’s fine. I’m not going to give up on a cute outfit just because you don’t wanna be there to play bouncer.”

He sucked his teeth, “C’mon, you got a million other things to wear, Y/N. Why can’t you just wear something else this once?”

You took a small step back, “Because I don’t want to.”

His frustration began to show on his face as he sighed, “You really doin’ this?”

You rolled your eyes, “Doin’ this?” you mocked him with a slight shake of your head, “Doing what?”

“Don’t make a thing out of this, Y/N.”

The way he said your name made you want to wear the dress everywhere without him to just frustrate him more. Every now and then his jealous streak would get a little out of control, and it looked like it was going to be one of those nights.

“I’m not the one making a thing out of anything. Maybe now you’ll learn that there’s consequences to your actions,” you carefully stepped around him so you could get out of your room.

Your heels clicked against the hardwood floors of your house as you made your way towards the door. You tried to pretend that you didn’t hear his heavy footsteps close behind you, his boots thudding loudly with every step. Without turning to look back at him you swiped up your purse and continued to make your way to the door. Just as your hand landed on the handle to the door, Angel reached out and put his hand on your shoulder.

You spun around to face him, “I’ll let you know when I get to the restaurant,” your tone was firm, but you still stood up onto your toes to place a kiss on his cheek, “I love you. Have fun with the guys.”

He mumbled out something that sounded like I love you too, but other than that he didn’t say anything as you took off out the door. You let out a sigh as you sat down in your car. Part of you wouldn’t have been surprised if Angel came bursting out the door behind you, but he didn’t. With a slight shake of your head, you turned the car on and made your way to dinner.

You had texted Angel when you got to the restaurant safely, and he replied with a very short, “Ok” and nothing more. You had sent him a couple other texts throughout the night just to keep him in the loop, the same way the two of you usually did when you were off with your own individual plans, but it was radio silence from him. Even when you texted to let him know that the small group of you were going to hit a bar for a quick drink after dinner, he didn’t say anything. Part of you wondered if he even had his phone on at all, or if he was just really dedicated to ignoring you in particular.

When you finally pulled back into your driveway, the house looked the same as when you left it. The lights in the living room and kitchen were on—you could see the glow through the thing curtains covering the window. You got out of the car and locked it, hesitantly making your way up to the door. It was locked, which led you to assume that Angel had left and come back at some point since you didn’t lock it behind you when you left.

When you walked inside, you were met with the quiet noise of the television playing in the living room. You looked over and saw Angel lounging on the couch, his expression twisted into a frown as his left his eyes glued to the TV. You had the overwhelming feeling that you were the reason behind that look. The part of you that hated arguing wanted to just apologize, but the part of you that refused to say you were wrong when you weren’t won out instead.

“You even make it to the clubhouse?” you asked, very mindful of your tone.

He nodded, still not looking at you, “Yea.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, fighting to keep your face neutral, “Well, good to know now I guess. Since I didn’t hear anything from you all fucking night.”

His eyes flicked over to you, “What?”

The intensity of his stare almost made you want to back down, but it was too late for that now, “You didn’t say shit to me all night, Angel. I didn’t even know if you left. I figured you shut off your fucking phone,” you shook your head, “Should’ve known you were just ignoring me. I do one thing you don’t like and—”

The words got caught in your throat as Angel stood up off the couch and crossed the room to you quicker than you thought was possible. He stared down at you, anger alight in his eyes, “You really tryna act surprised right now?” he stepped in closer to you as you slowly backed away from him, “Like you’re not the one in the wrong here?”

“I’m not!”

He clicked his tongue, “You don’t really believe that.”

Your voice sounded certain despite the shaky feeling in your legs, “I do. It’s not my fault that you got all bent out of shape over a damn dress,” you shook your head, “You don’t get to always just tell me what to do, you know. You’re not my fu—”

He stopped you mid-sentence as his hand landed on the side of your neck. His thumb tilted your chin up as the rest of his fingers gripped onto the back of your neck. You thought that he was about to yell, but his voice was low and harsh, “I’m not your what? Hm?” he leaned so his face was mere centimeters away from yours, “You gotta learn how to fucking listen.”

You knew you were about five seconds away from your legs giving out underneath you, but you were never one to back down from anyone, not even Angel, “Or what?”

His lips curled into a smirk as he quickly crouched down and lifted you up, slinging you over his shoulder with ease. It was a move he’d done a million times before, but there was usually laughter filling the house when he did do. His fingertips dug into your thighs, and you knew that you were in for it as he made his way to the bedroom.

He tossed you onto the bed before stripping off his shirt and undoing his belt. All you could do was lie back and watch him, nervous and excited about what was about to happen. He looked over at you, and you could see the darkness swirling around in his eyes. He walked over, towering over you as you sat at the edge of the bed. His hand found its way to your throat once more and he gave it a light squeeze.

You opened your mouth to say something and he shook his head, cutting you off, “Don’t.” You stopped, deciding that for once you wouldn’t challenge him. He let go of your throat and stepped back slightly, “Stand up.”

You did as he asked, body trembling slightly underneath the weight of his gaze. He stepped in close to you, reaching around behind you and sliding the zipper down of your dress, all while not taking his eyes off of yours. He slid the straps down off of your shoulders and with one firm yank, the dress pooled in a pile on the floor. He guided you backwards so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed before bending down and picking up the pile of fabric on the floor. He held it in his hands for a moment before throwing it to the opposite side of the room, clearly glad to have it far away from the both of you.

Angel nodded towards the headboard of the bed and you quickly moved away from the edge. He dropped his jeans and in a matter of seconds was climbing on top of you. His movements were rough, harsh as his hands traveled over your entire body, the pressure pushing you farther into the mattress.

He brought his face close to yours, but when you leaned up to try and kiss him he grabbed your neck, pushing you back against the pillow. Your eyes went wide but you didn’t say anything. He shook his head, “You don’t get to have that now.”

You nodded your head slightly, unable to form any words. His free hand slid down your body, fingers hooking around the waistband of your underwear. With a strong flick of his wrist he ripped them off of you. You fought the impulse to roll your eyes—he knew you hated when he did that but you supposed that that was the point. This was, at the core of it, a punishment, so you bit your tongue.

The feelings of annoyance began to quickly disappear as his hand strayed between your legs. You went to whimper but his grip on your throat tightened. You bit down on your bottom lip, shutting your eyes tight as he slowly slid his fingers into you.

He leaned in and placed his lips right next to your ear, his voice hardly a whisper, “How’m I supposed to believe that you’re mad at me when you’re this fuckin’ wet, hm?”

You shuddered as his fingers curled inside you, unable to think a coherent thought, let alone form a sentence. His movements got faster and you felt your entire body begin to tremble. His jealousy was not your favorite quality but you’d be lying if you tried to say that it didn’t have its benefits.

He could feel you tightening around his fingers and a smirk spread across his face, “You gonna cum for me, Y/N?”

Unable to speak, you simply nodded. But, before you could get any release, he let go of your throat and pulled his fingers out of you. He saw the disappointment on your face and shook his head, “No you’re not. Not yet.”

“Angel, pl—”

“No. You lost the privilege of making those decisions,” he gripped onto your hips, “Flip over.”

Even if you wanted to hesitate, you wouldn’t have been able to. Angel’s fingers dug into your hips, turning you over.  He pulled you back towards him, his hand running along your back, your ass, and between your legs. You whined and he shushed you, causing you to freeze up for a moment.

“I don’t want to hear it, querida,” his voice wasn’t as harsh as it had been, but you could still hear the tension in it, “You did this to yourself.”

He slowly pushed into you with a moan and your body instantly began to shake. His hands continued to roam and grab you as he positioned himself inside you, your whole body feeling like it was on fire. You shut your eyes tight and pushed back against him and you heard him curse under his breath.

He started to thrust into you and you bit down hard on your lips to contain your moans. You knew that the second you made a sound he would stop. The house was silent except for the sounds of his grunting and your bodies connecting. You had a death-grip on the blanket as you tried to keep yourself grounded.

Angel felt the way that your body once again began to tighten around him and he slowed his pace down to a painfully slow rhythm. Unable to stop yourself, you whined. He stilled instantly, “What was that?”

You froze, not wanting to say anything for fear of making it worse.

“Hey,” he slapped your ass and you bit back a whimper, “I asked you somethin’. What was that?”

“Nothing,” your voice was hardly audible.

You heard him let out a laugh as he reached forward, hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled you up against him, “You lying to me?”

You shook your head, “N-no.”

His chest vibrated against your back as he laughed. His hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat slid across your stomach and landed in between your legs. Your lip was about to bleed from how hard you were biting it to fight back all the sounds you wanted to utter. He nipped at the side of your neck and you leaned your head back against him.

“You like doing this?” his finger started to rub light, slow circles against your clit, “Is making me mad fun for you?”

“Angel,” you reached back and placed a hand on the side of his face, “it’s not—”

He stopped his hand, “Don’t lie to me.”

You turned your head and placed a light, lazy kiss on his neck, “You know I love you.”

He let out a quiet hum of approval, letting himself be distracted by you as his fingers went back to work, “You’re all mine?”

“Of course,” your voice was raspy as you tried to focus on everything that was happening.

“Say it,” he gave your throat a squeeze.

“I’m yours,” you whispered.

“That’s right,” he took his hand off of your neck and pushed you back down so you were back on all fours.

Both hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he began to thrust into you, pushing you farther and farther into the mattress. You moaned and this time it didn’t cause him to stop. The way his nails dug into your skin stung, but you didn’t mind it. You heard him cursing under his breath as he continued to slam into you, taking out a whole night’s worth of frustration out of you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you said it, but you knew that he already knew that.

Something resembling a laugh slipped past his lips, but he didn’t respond other than picking up his pace even more. You felt yourself going over the edge and you were quickly reduced to a trembling mess, Angel not relenting in the slightest as he fucked you through your orgasm. You could tell by the way his grip was slipping that he wasn’t far behind you. His hand landed on your back, pushing you down into the mattress as he finished inside you with a moan.

He didn’t pull out of you right away, instead he gently ran his hands up and down your thighs and back. You wanted to say something, but your mind was still reeling. He leaned forward, placing a trail of kisses on your spine that made you break out in goosebumps.

After he had a minute to catch his breath, he slowly pulled out of you, lying down next to you and gently pulling you against him. You reached forward and pushed his hair out of his face, wiping away a few beads of sweat in the process.

“Feel better?” there was a tired smile on your face.

He chuckled, “Maybe a little.”

You trailed your fingers through his beard, “I still think it was a cute dress.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes, not having the energy to argue as he pulled your face against his chest, “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

You laughed as his heartbeat thudded against your cheek, “But you love me.”

“But I love you.”

[idga-buck]

Some and Others, 2/?

Bucky finds it difficult to end a relationship without a good reason, until he has a good reason.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3,702

Content: sexual references (18+ only), swearing, Bucky seems like a jerk in this, but he really isn’t. I’m so behind on FATWS (like..second episode behind) because the friend I’m watching with is very busy and I respect that. This doesn’t contain any spoilers that I know of and doesn’t use the show as a point of reference. May change in future chapters if I ever get to watch it.

“Fuck... Fuuuu-“

The word died in Bucky’s chest, dissolving into a

mouthful of shamelessness. Grunts that vibrated against the back of his teeth as his body tightened, every muscle from his fingers digging into your hips to his burning quads pulled so taut that his ass cheeks could have crushed rock between them. He was getting rather comfortable using his new body to dole out something other than pain and suffering, to experience something else too. Though by the yellowing finger shaped bruises scattered on your legs and arms, there was still a little pain. The good kind, you’d assured him many times and some days Bucky Barnes was in awe of the fact that there was a “good kind” of pain. He wasn’t ready to be on the receiving end to find out for himself and you never pushed him to it. You were good, he liked that.

When his orgasm faded, leaving Bucky feeling like an empty husk of a man, he leaned down to kiss you in the middle of your back. A “good job” kind of peck that ended with him pulling out and pulling away to flop his sweaty body into your bed. There was a fuzzy blanket that irritated his heated skin and while he kicked awkwardly at it until it fell onto the floor, you were catching your breath next to him and inching closer. He wasn’t in the mood to cuddle and he closed his eyes hoping you wouldn’t expect too much. That was why he’d come over so early in the morning anyways. To see you off to work in a fun way, but at a time when he knew you wouldn’t be able to dawdle. Much to his surprise, you kissed his shoulder, the same little gesture he’d given your spine, and then rolled away, yanking a flowery robe from under his wide spread leg to pull it out. It was getting hot outside, the summer air a little too sticky when it seeped under those long sleeved shirts he preferred, but thankfully you kept a stand up fan at the end of your bed and Bucky sighed dreamily when he heard you flick it on, the artificial breeze shooting up his legs and cooling his damp skin. He’d expected you to continue your walk across the room and into the bathroom to prep for work, but your footsteps were muffled, which meant you’d stayed on the rug next to his side of the bed. Even with his eyes closed, he could tell you were watching him. Sure enough, there was a small dip in the mattress next to his head and your hand reached up to play with his sweaty hair.

“I could call in today.”

Bucky’s left eye fluttered open at the offer. You’d squatted next to the bed, leaning in one elbow to mess with the hair around his ears while you spoke. He usually liked that. There weren’t any memories of gentle touches from the last oh, 7 decades or so, and the therapist he stopped going to had encouraged him to seek out hands that didn’t hurt him. He’d found you shortly after and it felt good enough. Lately, especially today, Bucky just wanted the touching to stop making him feel so guilty.

“You’ve been gone a week, maybe we-“

“Better not,” he interrupted, rolling his head against the pillow to look at you. It felt like the decent thing to do. Look a person in the eye when you tell them no.

You were still smiling at him, but the hand that was touching him fell to the mattress. “You sure? We could stay in bed,” your voice lifted, knowing it was an extremely tempting offer. “I missed you, soldier.”

“Yeah,” Bucky offered a tight smile that probably looked even less convincing when it was half smashed into a pillow. “You should go to work.”

You licked your lips and kept them tucked in over your teeth as you nodded then stood without saying anything else. You’d get ready in the bathroom, Bucky would close his eyes again and pretend to be asleep when you emerged. You’d kiss his cheek and he’d enjoy your quiet apartment for the rest of the day while you were at work. It was how things had gone for a while. Long enough that it surprised Bucky a bit that you were still offering to stay home with him after he’d returned from a mission.

He flinched a bit when the bathroom door creaked open again and recovered quickly, waiting for his kiss before the front door closed behind you. But he heard dull footsteps pause before being replaced by the sharp sound of heels against wood. Then the rivets on your leather bag scraped over the kitchen counter and the keys jingled in your hand. Bucky waited, but the door opened then closed again without your lips stopping near his face. He sat up right and looked through the open bedroom door toward the entry, half expecting you to come back in, apologizing as you awkwardly stooped in a tight skirt to right this mistake.

You didn’t. And Bucky took it to mean that you felt it too. This whole thing was over.

He’d started feeling that way just a few weeks ago. You’d been feeling ill and he realized that he was more than happy to stay away. There wasn’t any urgency or desire to take care of you and only realized it a week later when he was coming over and you’d asked him to bring a Gatorade. He’d stopped dead on the street just outside your window and wondered if he should ask after any other needs. Or if maybe he should just assume and bring something he knew you liked. But then he spent too long standing in front of the candy rack by the glass covered register without a clue what you liked. He grabbed one of everything at first then put them all back, not wanting to admit he hadn’t been paying attention. He’d been a spy, an assassin, a marksman, a ladies man- all of which required keen observations. Yet, he’d missed this. Bucky told himself it hadn’t come up and he paid for only what you asked before heading upstairs.

After that, he started to feel off about everything. Noticing all the different things he didn’t necessarily like about- not you- but being with you. Not that it would sound any better, but once he realized he wasn’t actually ready to be in a relationship, the awkward dance began. Bucky Barnes had never been dumped. Obviously. But he’d never really had to let a girl go either. Dating was so different back when he was at it. Dates were frequent and they were fun. Being seen out and being seen with the right girls only made you more popular. It was especially good for the girls and a date with Bucky Barnes was as good as gold. Now, you and he had skipped over all the steps he’d known anything about and once you called yourself his girlfriend he had no clue what to do with you. Fumbling around for a few months didn’t yield much progress and the frustration was too much.

Everytime he thought he’d do it, he decided it wasn’t the right time… or he’d decide to kiss you instead, one last time. Last kisses taste as good as the first if you don’t really mean it and too often, Bucky found himself back in your bed instead of walking away. He’d linger in your apartment while you were at work, treating it like his own secret clubhouse and try not to think about how his mother would pinch his ear for how he was treating you. So Bucky finally rolled out of your bed and stepped into the shower.

Under the spray, he eyed the products you kept in a gray plastic bin for him and he wondered if he should throw them out when he was done. He had no use for them back in the compound, but when he pictured you coming home to find all his stuff in the trash before he’d had a chance to say something, he left the bottles where they were and toweled off. Then he dressed and checked his phone in the kitchen. You’d texted from your office, asking him if he’d meet you for dinner. He didn’t prefer going out, but he could suck it up for this. It would be easier to let you down in public. Maybe. Bucky agreed and you responded with a tiny picture of a floating yellow head. It was smiling so he slid his phone into his pocket and left it there to eye the kitchen next. Part of him wanted to leave, knowing what he’d have to tell you later. But another part of him was hungry and he knew you kept bacon in the freezer for weekends. So he stayed.

He’d changed into a set of clothes in the bottom drawer of your dresser. Just a black pair of jeans and a sweater that you said made his arms look tasty. The outfit was left after a different date and now Bucky was glad to be getting it out of your dresser. He didn’t bother leaving the city, but he did leave the apartment, knowing you’d stop home to change before heading to the restaurant you chose. He found a bar to sit at until 6:00, but while he was killing time a text message came in that ruined his whole evening.

Bucky should have seen it coming and when the toe of his boot collided with the trash can outside, he wished it was his own brain. Or heart. Or whichever other organ was responsible for putting him in this mess. He looked down toward the sidewalk and kicked that too. He knew exactly which organ got him here.

There were plenty of signs. Little moments that he ignored to soothe every selfish ache. The need for sleep, the need for comfort, the need for release, the need for something that was just his. You’d given him all of that without question, but clearly not without expectation. Dating a hundred year old soldier came with its own difficulties sure, but dating an Avenger seemed to make up for all of that. Bucky knew he wasn’t blameless, having agreed to the whole boyfriend thing knowing your name, your address, and how much he liked sleeping on your sheets. Beyond that you were a mystery to him and it seemed to be unraveling right before him.

This kind of thing was meant for Steve or Tony, the faces of the organization not the bloody fists behind them. Bucky hadn’t even considered that he was being used until FRIDAY alerted him of a sudden social media buzz that included his name circulating around the internet. Tweets and posts and fan accounts which he wasn’t aware he had were passing around a photo of him. It was undeniably him. Even without seeing it on a regular basis, Bucky could recognize his own back from a photograph. The problem was his shirt, or lack thereof, highlighting the fact that one of his arms was the color of gunpowder and twice as deadly. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who it was.

Aside from the obvious violation, feeling like the intimate moments he’d guarded so carefully were suddenly being invaded by a world of people who didn’t know him, Bucky also couldn’t help but feel hurt as the leaked photo proved something he’d suspected, but never gave much thought to. You were only with him to be with an Avenger. He wasn’t sure it would matter who it was, you would have gone home with any member of the team given the chance. It was his face you found at the bar that night, so it was his life you slithered into without remorse. Bucky had only one desire left when it came to you— to slither out the same way.

“What is this?”

Bucky dropped the phone on the table between you and watched you wince at the loud clattering of silverware. If only you’d known his real desire was to throw the damn thing. On the screen before you was a familiar photo, one you’d posted yourself to Instagram, desaturated just enough to catch the early morning sun glinting off Bucky’s arm complete with the location “Welcome to New York” and appropriate Taylor Swift lyrics in the caption. The muscles in his bare back tensed as he looked out the window of a swanky hotel room. You’d met him for drinks in the bar downstairs when the night manager caught wind of the avenger in his hotel and made the surprisingly vacant presidential suite available for you two. It’d been a good night. A very good night, Bucky thought, before those steamy memories were spoiled in this very moment.

“Earth’s Mightiest Lover, question mark?” You read aloud, laughing at the headline, before looking up at Bucky’s face drawn tight in annoyance. “I mean, it’s not far off,” you offered casually, winking as you passed Bucky his phone back. He was unamused and watched as you straightened in your seat, tone suddenly matching the serious look on his face. “My page is private, I don’t know how they got that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he seethed. “You posted it.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t realize this was a secret.” You sounded offended and that surprised Bucky. As if you didn’t know exactly what you’d done.

“What I do in my personal life isn’t anyone’s business,” he insisted, still standing next to the table instead of sitting to join you.

He only became aware of the other patrons watching the exchange when your eyes left his to float around the room. You lowered your voice in response. “Well, what I choose to share from my life is.”

“This isn’t about you,” he sighed, dropping his voice a bit to match yours. No reason to bring anymore unwanted attention to himself.

“It feels like it is!” Your whisper was forceful and you turned your face away from him immediately after. “Why the big fuss, Bucky? Was it really a secret?” He didn’t answer. If he’d done what he’d been meaning to do sooner, this whole thing could have been avoided and he felt more ashamed of himself than you. It wasn’t that you were a secret, per se. It just wasn’t something he knew enough about to share with the world. He was still getting used to this century, let alone dating in it, let alone being a public figure in it. There wasn’t any part of him that wanted to fail in front of an audience and he assumed you’d know that. Even if he’d never told you. “What’s the point of a superhero boyfriend if no one can know,” he heard you mutter while he was lost in thought.

Bucky froze. “What’s the point?”

“Bucky, I’m sorry,” you said quickly. The air around your table changed immediately and you’d both picked up on it. “I hear how that sounds, that sounds bad, that’s not how I meant-“ he turned around and unfortunately, you chose to follow. He heard the offended gasp of a nearby table as you scampered after him, heels a dull thud in the thick carpet. “Bucky, come on. I didn’t mean it, can we talk about this?”

“No,” he said gruffly, pushing the door open and stepping out onto the sidewalk again.

“We’ve both said things-“

“Well, I’m done saying things.”

“Wait…” Bucky stopped walking when you grabbed at his arm. You didn’t normally go for his left side. He didn’t know if it was because you found it weird or if you thought he did. Another thing he never brought up. The feeling of your hands wrapped around vibranium was startling enough for him to face you, expectantly. “What just happened here?”

“This isn’t going to work for me,” he said, watching your mouth twitch a little as you considered his words. At least he wasn’t kissing you. He still kind of wanted to, it’d become a sort of habit over the last few months. When he was wound up, like he was now, he came to you and you made it go away. Simple. Yet now it felt complicated. Like the relationship was supposed to be more but also felt like too much. He wasn’t ready for it and as long as he focused, as long as he got out as soon as possible, he wouldn’t slide back into comfortable ways.

“Bucky…” your eyes were wide and your voice broke a bit at the end of his name. “Are we… are you breaking up with me?” You asked, before adding, “Over a picture?”

No, but also yes.

Bucky knew that he should, before you got hurt, though apparently he was too late for that. Your arms were crossed over your chest defensively and he dropped his eyes to the pavement. It wasn’t the picture. It was everything. The picture gave him permission to do the right thing. Though the right thing probably would have been telling you he wasn’t interested in a relationship at all when you asked.

“Delete the picture,” he said simply, choosing not to say more. “You don’t have a superhero boyfriend to brag about anymore.” With the twisting of that knife, he felt more like the Winter Soldier again in that moment than he had in months. Cruel and beyond his own control.

It happened so fast. All of it. By the time he’d returned to the compound, half the team was waiting for him. Tony stood smugly looking like a dad that hated being the bad cop, while Steve wondered aloud why Bucky had kept his relationship a secret for so long anyways. Sam’s questions were blessedly lighthearted, but Bucky’s gratitude could only be expressed in quick grunts as he pushed through the Brady Bunch. Back in his room with the door shut, Shuri called and without really thinking, Bucky answered. He didn’t turn to face the hologram floating above the kimoyo beads on his bedside table, just let the princess talk directly at the side of his head while he listened.

“Sergeant Barnes!” The honorific was standard for her and most of the time he appreciated it, but storming out of a date like a teenager had him feeling less than worthy of any title. He was barely fit to command his own personal life at that second and being called sergeant left a sour taste at the back of his tongue. If the boys could see him now, moping about because a gal was too eager to show him off. Ridiculous.

“Bucky…” he muttered to himself, but it didn’t matter. Shuri was already rambling excitedly about something or other she’d cooked up in her lab. Under normal circumstances, Bucky would be enthralled, but he was tired. Not physically, after accidentally on purpose taking a nap in your bed before getting dressed again. Just… all the other kinds of tired that he couldn’t talk about. So while the Princess talked, Bucky hummed randomly. He didn’t think he was allowed to miss this call and stayed on the line, though his disinterest was noticeable and promptly called out.

“Why do you look like someone kicked your goat?” Bucky turned to glare at the floating head and Shuri cackled. His time as a shepherd was nothing compared to the real Wakandans who’d been perfecting their craft over thousands of years, but she’d never let him forget his ‘roots’ as she jokingly called them. Because of her he was reborn, therefore Wakanda was his de facto home. Honorary member of the border tribe and the royal family’s favorite broken white boy.

“We broke up.”

“You know,” she started in a light tone, far too playful in response to his news. “White Wolf is just a name, you don’t have to be so lonely… or mopey.”

“I’m not mopey,” he argued, but the fight wasn’t really there.

“Says the mope,” Shuri countered, sucking her teeth and shaking her head. “Nakia would twist your lip if she saw it stuck out like that.”

“Well the next time I’m in the presence of the queen I’ll let her.”

“You know Sergeant Barnes,” the youthful tone in her voice disappeared instantly. She sounded every bit of the Black Panther mantle. “It’s been a long time since a man has snapped at me like that and walked away unscathed.” There was an underlying threat that sent Bucky upright, sitting on the edge of his bed and lifting the beads in his palm. Already his posture was more respectful than it had been a moment ago.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely and Shuri nodded. “I… I don’t want to talk about it.”

Finally the princess’s smile broke back through and Bucky was instantly relieved. “I didn’t call you to talk about girls anyways.”

“Can we skip this one?”

“No,” said Shuri, leaving no room for argument.

“How many diagnostics does one arm need?”

Shuri looked back up from the tablet she’d grabbed and squinted at Bucky. “The next time you rebuild a brain and an arm from scratch- you can tell me.”

And there was nothing to say to that, so Bucky detached the arm in question and set it down before popping a single kimoyo bead into the empty joint. He got comfortable and waited for Shuri to engage him again for another evaluation. The first year was critical, she kept saying, and he had no choice, but to agree with her.

He’d never rebuilt an arm or a brain.

While he waited for her to need his input again, Bucky thought about you. How surprised you looked when he started to walk away. Maybe you hadn’t seen it coming like he had. Just before Shuri finished with the arm, he’d decided to reach out to you. Not tonight. Probably not even tomorrow. But at some point, he’d apologize for the brusqueness of his exit. If he got the chance to.

Photo because, Bast bless this woman. She is too good for the world. Also. A mood. Shuri isn’t here to fix your relationship, Bucky. She’s a genius and a princess and a badass.

A/N: this is my not so subtle introduction to a genre I have created called, what is everybody else doing? Ok do the opposite just for fun. One of my favorite things in fic is when Bucky finds himself a girl who’s DiFfErEnT. Seriously I eat that shit up like fourth meal. But for fun, I asked, what if ‘reader’ is just like everyone else? A little shallow. A little star struck. A little in over her head. A little bit Alexis. Jk. Kind of. The excitement starts in the next chapter which I won’t wait two months to post. I don’t think.

Tags: @fangirl-swagg

[patchworklove]

thoughts on mayans pt.2

(s4 mostly) part 1 here bc apparently i have a lot of thoughts

controversial - but i kinda like hope and nails. i think nails was better suited to hank, especially because he was gonna step up for her in a way that angel never did. and sure nails was a ons/fwb broken condom situation, but that doesn't mean she should be faulted for falling for someone who was a self-absorbed arsehole and wanting her child to have a 2-parent household. she went about things wrong, but at the same time, i think angel led her on in regards to what he would and could bring to the table. i hope she bails after the loss of her baby.

hope and coco had a sweet relationship, and whilst i don't think they were madly in love soulmates, it was nice to actually have a mayan in a relationship and be putting in the effort. (obvious exception: marcus). i also enjoyed her storyline: she was from charming and after soa s7, got mixed up in drugs. like the nords were still probably running it, and sons overlooked it. and she ended up around stockton and oakland mayans bc that's what she knew? let's not act like sons were saints with mad respect for the girls at the clubhouse bc they weren't. her ending up on meth mountain, with a son who didn't care, is supposed to be shitty, bc that's what the club gave the girls who weren't old ladies: a shitty deal. so her getting clean and having happiness with coco was a good thing. addiction isn't easy, and nor is recovery and i liked that they showed that, and how coco was going to help her through it. it sucks that there is no hea for hope, but i don't think there should be.

leti is an annoying character, and after the rumors i've read about emily, that 4x06 scene was annoying and kinda cringy. she's not the greatest actress and i feel like she sort of doesn't do much other than be pissed. i can't tell if that's the writing and lack of development for the character after 4 seasons, but it's growing stale.

i don't know how i feel about taza's storyline being ongoing still? it's good that there are actual repercussions for things that have happened in other seasons, bc they keep getting overlooked. it is getting old though, and lbh bishop could just drop him in it and tell marcus that's the reason for the war.

the sons/mayan war storyline is frustrating. jess should've known what she was doing, and her naivety is annoying. how do you hang around a clubhouse for years and not realise they'll shoot people. you literally heard someone die a few months back. did you think they were gonna sit down and talk it out??!

i'm glad marcus brought up 92 and how no one won, bc i feel like mayans (show) often forgets he does have a history. i'm a little annoyed they're bring esai into it though i can't wait until he tells ez it's bc his son was a power-hungry idiot who made moves that impacted everyone, and he needed to die to stop a war. 1 necessary over many unnecessary. marcus has become softer from sons, which means he'[ll probably die bc he's not what a 1% leader should be. even though i actually think he's one of the bet ter leaders.

i've been annoyed by the galindos in the past seasons, but at this point thank fuck they're here. the only saving grace. i'm ready for miguel to be the cartel leader he was in s1 but more. i have enjoyed him sort of spending time with his aunt and tomás, and working on himself. i think he lost who he was after dita died.

i'm conflicted over what emily's storyline is bringing to the table. like i know we need to know she's alive and in hiding, because it's gonna be important to miguel's story. but outside of that, i don't really care. i liked the emily who was ready to get her hands dirty and join miguel's world when cristobal was missing. i don't like the dreary "ez 😍" bullshit version. but i fear any hope of emily being a force not to be fucked with is long gone.

i'm glad tig is returning, but it will probably be some fanservice cameo, and it may not be enough to make fans view this show like they have before

i realise this is so much longer than it should have been, and the fact that i have had to make 2 posts?! goddamn. but i have a lot to think about. i'm not sure it will be renewed, which is a shame bc it had potential. if it does, s5 would (read: should) be the last. and even then, i don't know that i'd watch it. i'll have to finish this season and decide if i can go through more of this.

[humbughana]

second best

warnings: cursing per usual, mentions of sex (gasp), hidden feelings (ugh the angst), dick rafe (yum), bad writing (the horror)

words: 3k

enjoy lovers x

Rafe and Lola have been friends since they were born, both shoved together by their families and being the same age, it was easy for them to grow closer throughout the years. 

But there was always a line that was to never be crossed.  A mutual understanding, of sorts.

A line that hardened the girl over the years when she started to notice how attractive Rafe got or the number of girls he went through right in front of her. Or the pang in her chest when he asked her for one of her friend's numbers. There was harmless flirting between the two, no more than teasing but it was still hard for Lola. 

So she resorted to drowning herself in boys of her own choosing if only to keep her mind off of her best friend.

“Lola!” 

From where she was leaning against the stairs, she could see the entire living room crowded with teenagers. Topper always knew how to throw a good party, “Yes Top?” She sipped her drink slowly, not looking at her blonde friend who joined her.

He rolled his eyes at her, “You can’t stand here all night, Lo.” He gestured to some of her friends that danced drunkenly, “Get out there.” Lola only shook her head slightly, “Not in the mood tonight.” she muttered with a shrug. It was true - and untrue. She showed up at the house excited to let loose with her friends but she almost immediately saw Rafe with his tongue down the throat of some brunette that was on his arm all night. 

When they were in high school, Topper noticed her soft spot for Rafe, especially after he had asked one of her friends to prom and the tears in her eyes when he saw her leaving the school that day, “Lola-” he started but was cut off with a sharp look that told him to shut his big mouth up.

“I’m fine.” She shrugged and a smile grew on her lips as she saw one of the guys she hooked up with regularly and casually, and as if to say ‘see’ she sauntered over to the boy and leaned into his side, an arm immediately wrapping around her waist. Throwing a smile over her shoulder to Topper he only shook his head in disapproval at her coping mechanisms. 

Rafe and Lola would kill each other, he vouched. 

Lola spent the night perched on the boys lap, drinks placed in her hand accordingly until she unintentionally swayed to the beat of the music. The boy- Jack was his name placed a firm hand on her back to keep her steady. He was sweet, much too sweet for her and he knew about her problem with Rafe. And she knew about his broken heart that his ex-girlfriend gleefully ripped in two. They were using each other, sure, but they respected each other. 

“Coming back to my place?” His voice was warm in her ear and she nodded, too eager to leave the party. She saw Rafe climbing the stairs with the same brunette to where she knew the guest rooms were, gritting her teeth. She let Jack’s hand slide up her back to rest behind her neck, “Let’s go.” Lola mumbled, standing up eyes still on the steps. 

So she would let Jack fuck her until she couldn’t even think about the tall blonde that was crushing her heart.

~

“Fuck you,” she spat at Rafe who only grinned back at her, pleased with himself as he held the golf club with ease. They both took the game way too seriously to have a casual outing anymore and Rafe was now beating her, “Have you been practicing without me?” she demanded, ripping the club out of his hand and setting her own ball up. Lining her feet up he laughed warmly behind her, “I took Victoria here the other day.” 

Barely listening to him, she hit the ball and watched it sail in the right direction with a grin. But Rafe continued and now she was listening, “You know her, I think. I took her to Topper’s party the other day.” So that was the brunette that he was with all night, “I didn’t actually see you that night, Lo. Did you go?” 

“I was there.” She nodded as Rafe drove them to their balls much too slowly when all she wanted to do was sink into herself. There was nothing more she wanted to hear about concerning Rafe and the girl he was seeing, “You must have just been busy with Victoria.” Unable to keep the sarcastic edge out of her tone Rafe turned to look at her slightly with a frown.

“Or you must have been with that Ashford kid.” She rolled her eyes, Rafe made his opinions abundantly clear about her friend.

“Jack?”

“Who else do you hang all over when you go out?” He was serious, she noticed and let out a real laugh. Rafe only clenched his jaw, “Something funny Lo?” She nodded, “Yeah actually. You have a problem with who I hang out with?”

“Only the ones you fuck.”

 She sucked in a breath, partly shocked and angry that he would have the nerve to say that to her face. So she nodded, heart beating too fast, “I am fucking him.” She spoke slowly but unwaveringly when she saw Topper and Kelce in the distance, “Careful Rafe.” she taunted “You sound jealous.” His head snapped to meet her eyes but she only rolled hers in response. Topper waved at the duo and Lola smiled at him, “You better leave him alone, Rafe.” She would kill Rafe if he went after Jack and she wouldn’t put it past Rafe to do something stupid. 

Rafe only angrily stomped off to Kelce when the cart stopped and she rolled her eyes once more at the dramatics of him before joining Topper, “What's his deal?” Topper asked, watching his two friends stalk off.

“He’s mad at me.” she snorted and Topper asked why, “Because I’m fucking Jack Ashford.” She laughed again, finding the irony in the situation while Topper just sighed and shook his head.

“Tell him, Lola.” 

“I don’t know what you're talking about Top” She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead, “I’m leaving actually. Let him wallow with you two.” She walked back over to the golf cart she and Rafe were using, ignoring Topper’s protest and drove back to the clubhouse. 

The nerve of that boy.

~

Lola and her two friends dragged her along to one of the few bars in their area, easily using their fake ID’s to get in and quickly downing a few shots to get them in the mood.

“I’m gonna go dance,” she mumbled, taking the last shot in front of her and wincing at the taste. And that she did, Lola danced in the mass of people and laughed as she left carefree until her skin began to overheat. 

“Lola!” she heard Eve yell and she turned in the direction of her two friends, one of which was in the face of another girl she didn’t recognize. Frowning she pushed through the crowd until she stood next to Eve who stared at their friend in worry.

“Sadie,” Lola started to intervene as their words started to change into yelling, “Come on.”

The girl she didn’t know laughed maliciously, “No - that little cunt kissed my boyfriend!” To which launched Sadie into an enraged furry, trying to reach around Lola that wedged herself in between the fight.

“What happened!” Lola raised her voice, eyeing Eve who cringed to the side. Sadie only laughed, “He kissed me! You crazy bitch!”

Lola wanted to groan, that was until the angry girlfriend spat out, “Whore!” Lola turned and smacked the girl across the face before anyone could have predicted the fight. If the crowd of people didn’t already know what was happening, then they certainly did now as the two girls fell in a heap on the floor, Lola on top.

“Get her, Lo!” Sadie yelled gleefully while Eve anxiously scrolled through her contacts, knowing they were about to get kicked out of the bar, if not arrested for being underage. 

When Lola started throwing real punches and the bouncer began sifting through the dense crowd towards them she held the phone to her ear, “Rafe?” Rafe had basically grown up with Lola’s two friends as well and knew something was up at the sound of her voice, “What’s up, Eve?”

“Please come get us? Lola’s fighting some girl and-” she cut herself off, “We’re at Brothers.” Rafe cursed at the girls but hung up with the promise he’d be there soon. 

The bouncers finally intervened, one grabbed Lola around the waist, the other two were dragging Sadie and the angry girlfriend out. Eve just followed behind with red cheeks while Lola cursed the bouncers to hell and back, Sadie still yelling at the other girl. They were unceremoniously dumped on the sidewalk outside, “You cause any problems out here and we’re calling the police.” The men looked at them pointedly and Eve prayed Rafe would show up and hopefully with his friends, she didn’t know if Rafe would be enough.

“Happy now? Your boyfriend probably has his tongue down someone else's throat.” Sadie crossed her arms as she stood next to Lola who looked crazed still, “Fucking psycho,” Lola muttered, catching the attention of the girl anyways.

“What did you call me?” her nasally voice rang true as she got back into Lola’s face and she only smiled.

“A. Fucking. Psycho.” Lola spat each word harshly as the girl's face turned red, Lola couldn’t react fast enough to dodge the hand that hit her cheek harshly. Eve could have cried when a familiar boy brushed past her and grabbed Lola around the waist and dragged her flailing body away.

“Rafe!” Sadie yelled in surprise, “I’m so glad you came.” She swayed slightly and Topper grabbed her elbow so she didn’t fall, “Topper too?” The drunk girl laughed forgetting all about the fight and the other girl finally stalked away, defeated.

“Lola calm the fuck down.” Rafe grabbed her jaw when he set her down in front of him finally. She hissed in pain and he let go, surveying her bruised face in disdain, “What the hell?” Rafe nodded to his friends behind them, telling them to get the other two girls home.

“She started it.” Lola crossed her arms stubbornly, “She insulted Sadie!” Rafe shook his head, a small smile graced his face and she softened immediately, “Don’t be mad at me,” She pouted, the alcohol making her a tad more open with her feelings. Rafe only laughed quietly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Let's get you home, Lo.” He walked the two of them to his car as she walked him through the fight, “I totally won too.” She finished with a victorious grin.

Rafe lifted her up into the car with a grin, “I’m sure you did, baby.”  She warmed at the pet name that easily fell into their conversation and sat with a shit eating grin as he jumped into his side of the car, “Can I stay with you?”

Rafe nodded with a smile and began driving, “Course.”

Lola turned up the radio and began to hum to the songs she knew as Rafe could only watch her with a soft smile, “C'mon, Lo” He pulled her out of the car when they arrived at his familiar home and she only groaned and closed her eyes dramatically, “Fine,” he shrugged, “You leave me no choice.” He swiftly picked her up and walked them to the front door, setting her down on unsteady legs to unlock the door. Lola happily led the way to Rafe’s bedroom and began to sift through his closet for clothes to sleep in and took off her little top, hearing a slight cough behind her. 

“What?” She turned around completely, the shirt clutched to her bare chest and a smirk on her face made him swallow harshly, “Put the shirt on, Lola.” She rolled her eyes at his seriousness and slipped the shirt on before dragging the skirt down her legs.

“You’re no fun, Rafe.” She mumbled, crawling into his bed and shifting under the covers. He only looked at her with a look she couldn’t decipher before shaking his head, “I’m going to the guest room. You can take my bed.” 

“What?” She sat up on her elbows with a confused frown, “We’ve always shared a bed.” 

Rafe rubbed his eyes in frustration, “We’re not kids anymore, Lola.”

She was utterly confused, “Rafe I slept here, with you, last week. What’s wrong with you?” Fully sitting up now she furrowed her eyebrows when he shook his head.

“It’s different now,”

“In the past four days, you mean?” 

Rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “ Goodnight Lola.”

“Rafe Cameron!” She threw a pillow at his back when he turned to leave his own room and he sighed audibly again at her antics. She tried not to let it sting, wondering what changed to wedge a space in between them.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He groaned and she blinked rapidly, now on her knees on the bed.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m breaking your heart over this.” 

Lola bit down on her bottom lip, “What if you were?” She looked at him with wide eyes, glassy from the alcohol and maybe her emotions. Rafe furrowed his brows as if confused with her admission but shook his head anyways, “You don’t mean that. Go to bed, Lo.” 

“Fuck you, Rafe. I’m leaving.” She jumped off the bed, stumbling slightly and began to grab her clothes when Rafe snatched her upper arm, “Like hell you are.” But she was ready and shoved his chest until he stumbled backwards. “Tell me the truth.” Lola crossed her arms expectantly and Rafe looked equally annoyed.

So he shrugged, “I don’t want to mess things up with Victoria. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea of our relationship.” And suddenly she was a freshman in highschool again, Rafe had just started dating a girl he barely knew and she was alone. Rafe left her in the dust for a new girl because he ‘didn’t want them to get the wrong idea’. 

And everytime she waited like a lost puppy for Rafe to call or text her, telling her he broke up with whoever he was seeing. Everything could go back to normal, she always thought. Always the faithful little friend.

So the sour look on her face fell to one of loss and Rafe had the nerve to ask what was the matter, she let out a dead laugh, “I’m not doing this anymore, Rafe. I won’t” She shook her head, her mind clear as his eyes reflected the opposite.

“What are you talking about?” 

She began to grab her skirt, pulling it back up her legs, leaving his shirt on and pulling on the jacket she had, “You cannot throw me to the side when it is convenient for you. I won’t wait for you anymore. So you either find a way to balance or this is goodbye Rafe.” She clipped his shoulder on her way out the door before he turned to follow on her heels. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!!” He was angry with her. Good, she thought. And only when she reached his front door did she turn, “You think about that. Hell, even ask Topper. But I can’t do this anymore. I’m walking home.” 

And that she did. The walk was really only five minutes as they lived on the same street and as usual her house was empty. Sitting in the empty kitchen in the dark, Lola pulled out her phone to see a few texts,

top: tell him. 

rafe: are you home?

And lastly, one that made her stall,

jack: can I come over?

~

“Morning,” she mumbled into her pillow as she felt the boy next to her shift with a groan. Jack’s hands reached out until he grabbed her waist and pulled her into him, burying his face into her neck tiredly, “morning lo.” his hands ran over her back in a comforting way that had her clinging to him, their legs tangled together. 

But neither of them were who the other truly wanted to find next to them in the mornings. 

Jack pulled away first, slowly sitting up and running a hand through his hair. He looked lost; sad even and she sat up behind him, running her hand up to his shoulder, “What happened?” she pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder as he covered his face with his hands. And there was always a reason for their visits.

“she moved on.” was all he said and Lola wrapped her arms around his waist from behinds and let them bask in the comfort for a little longer. 

But it was her turn when he turned his body to face her, “why am I here?” he looked at her pointedly and she smirked, “because I love your company.” he smiled at her but they both knew it wasn't the truth, so he laid her back down and propped himself on his elbow to look at her from the side. 

Lola sighed, looking from him to the ceiling over her, “he’s done with me.” she kept it short and sweet like he did but he still frowned, looking over her face as if to say who could possibly leave you behind? The sweetness of the boy next her here made her heart squeeze painfully, if only she could love him instead. 

He kissed her deeply when the first tear fell on her cheek and didn’t stop until her mind went blank with pleasure as he rocked into her late into the morning sun. Only when they both collapsed back onto the bed, breathing deeply, did she look at him but there were simply no words to say.

xx

*part 2

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 14

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

It wasn’t until Nina was alone, that realization struck her. She’d just agreed to leave Angel. Her Angel. The man who had brought her back to life. The thought struck her like a freight train, and she froze in place, almost literally. Her whole body went cold, and she felt like she couldn’t move for the longest time. The light in the room told her she must have sat like that for at least an hour. Finally able to move her head to look down, she looked at the crescent shaped cuts in her palms from her nails. Something wet began dripping onto them, and she found tears had begun running down her cheeks, without her even noticing it. Forcing her arm to reach for the pillow next to her, she took a deep breath, and held it to her face; before a wail like no other left her mouth. She screamed out her agony, not having felt anything like it since she’d been told that Jackson had gone through with his plan to kill himself. It was as if an actual death had occurred again; but this time it felt like her own.

After a while she put down the pillow again, and got to her feet. She opened the cabinets, and began pulling out he few belongings she’d brought to Santo Padre, and stuffed them in her backpack. Then she made the bed, and went into the small bathroom for her toothbrush. It looked so alone there, as if it missed standing next to Angel’s. She tore herself from the thought, and went to put that into her bag as well. Only the gun and her inhaler were left, and she went to pick them up, when she noticed the phone Bishop had given her laying on the counter by the sink. She picked it up, and sat down on the cot again.

She wasn’t sure who to call. No one could change her situation as it was; but she needed something – anything – to help her through. Just a voice to remind her that it wasn’t all for nothing. Looking at Jackson’s journal and the photo of his boys – which she’d saved for last – the answer came to her. She dialed up the number, praying to god that it was still the same as last time she’d used it. The call was picked up at the second ring.

“Hello?”. “Wendy? It’s Nina”, she said. “Hey, Nina. How is everything?”, Wendy replied. Nina heard a ruckus in the background. “Thomas, no more cookies…! Sorry. Someone decided sugar was a good replacement for lunch... Chibs told me you were going to Mexico”. Nina swallowed thickly. “Yeah… No, not really. I’m somewhere else”. “Well, I hope you’re enjoying yourself. What I’d give for a vacation…”, Wendy said. Nina knew she was just kidding. Wendy had never been happier than since she moved to the farm with the boys and Nero. “Yeah, well; vacation is over”, Nina muttered. “I was wondering if I could talk to the kids for a minute”. “Of course! They miss you”, Wendy said. There was another sound of something crashing in the background. “Sorry, I need to give Tommy a bath. No! We don’t wipe peanut butter on our faces…!”. Another crash. “Goddammit. Abel! Come to talk to aunt Nina while I help your brother… Take care, Nina”. Nina couldn’t help but smile a little, as she heard Wendy chase Tommy around the room. There was a short scrambling noise, before someone spoke again. “Hi, aunt Nina!”, a bright, young voice said on the other end. “Abel… Hi, buddy”, Nina said, instantly falling back into tears; but trying to stifle her sniveling. “How are you doing?”. “I’m ok… But Tommy broke my supersoaker…”. “Aw, that sucks. I’m sure he’s sorry”, Nina said. “Yeah, mommy Wendy made him apologize… You sound sad…”, Abel said. Nina wiped her eyes, as if the boy was right there in front of her. “No, I’m not sad. I just smelled your feet through the phone, and it made me cry”, she replied. “No, you didn’t!”, Abel laughed. “When are you gonna come visit? There’s a mule here, and we named him after you, even though he’s a boy; because daddy always said you were stubborn as a mule. And we have a trampoline, which is really cool, ‘cuz you can jump high. When I stretch up my arms when I jump, I’m almost as tall as Nero! And…”. “That’s great Abel. I’d love to see that…”. Nina sighed and closed her eyes, trying to picture the boy in front of her. He’d probably grown quite a bit, even after the picture Wendy had sent her was taken. “Are you being good for mommy Wendy?”. “Yeah, I eat my broccoli and everything. And I help Nero clean the horse-stalls”, Abel said. “That’s good. And you’re doing good in school?”, she asked, having to wipe her nose a bit. “Yeah… Do you have a cold? Your voice is funny”, Abel replied. “No, it’s still your feet, stinky!”, Nina chuckled. She heard bikes arriving on the lot, and felt another crying fit threatening to attack. “Look, buddy; I gotta run. I just wanted to make sure you were ok”. “I’m ok. Come visit us soon!”. “I promise, Abel. I love you!”. “Love you too. Bye!”. Abel hung up the call before Nina could say anything more. She quickly slipped the photo into the journal, and put it in her bag, before getting to her feet to face Angel.

---

The Mayans all looked to be in a good mood, when Nina opened the trailer door to step outside. EZ, Gilly and Coco went to gather the loaded sleep rolls, while Angel turned to look at her; a bright smile on his face.

Daniella came out of the clubhouse, and stood on the porch. She smiled shortly at Nina, before Angel noticed the blonde, and began approaching her. “Dani, we gotta talk”, he said. “Angel!”, Nina called out. He turned around, and looked at her confusedly. “Give me a minute”, he replied. “No. Now”, Nina declared, and stepped back inside the trailer. The Mayans all looked confused at this point, but didn’t intervene. Angel frowned, and gave Daniella a short look. She shrugged, before looking at Nina; palming her phone. Don’t try anything, she seemed to be saying. “Don’t go anywhere”, Angel said to her, and walked towards the trailer. “I’ll be right here, baby”, Daniella said.

Once inside the trailer, Angel closed the door. “Nina, what the fuck? I was just about to…”. “Daniella’s not the snitch. I talked to her”, Nina cut him off. “You what?”, Angel growled. “Girl talk”, Nina said. “She’s just here for you. Not to sell out your club”. She made herself keep an indifferent face while she spoke. “You should give her a chance”. “I’m not… What are you talking about?”.

Nina sighed deeply, and took a step back. “You and me… That was never gonna work out”. He tried to reach for her hand, but she turned around to throw her inhaler and gun into the bag. “Nina… What are you doing?”, Angel asked. “I’m leaving… Going home”, she replied. “Or somewhere else. I haven’t decided yet”. “You’re not going anywhere!”, Angel exclaimed, and yanked her bag out of her hands. “What the fuck is going on?”. Nina clenched her fists to hide the fact that her hands were shaking. Angel wouldn’t let her go unless she did something drastic. She swallowed thickly, and met his eyes with an indifferent gaze. “You people can’t protect me. I’m safer with SOA; what happened to Camille is proof of that”, she said. The furrow between Angel’s brows was deeper than ever. “I wasn’t gonna tell you this, but I talked to SAMDINO. I’m gonna take up Packer’s offer”. Angel looked like he’d been punched in the gut with a sledgehammer. “Packer… You wanna go be with Packer…”, he croaked. “Yeah… He’s… We’ve got history”, Nina lied. Angel’s expression was growing pained, but in spite of wanting to take him in her arms, and comfort him, Nina had to continue her ruse. “You said I was too good for this life. I’m not. I just want more than what you can give me. Queen of SAMDINO is the right step for me”.

She tried taking her bag back from Angel, but he threw it behind him; and grabbed a hold of her shoulders. “This is bullshit. What happened?”, he said. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to stay here”, Nina replied. “I’m sorry about that year I owe the club, but I’ll try to get some money, and have Chibs pay you whatever Bishop thinks I owe”. “This isn’t about money. You said you love me!”, Angel said, his voice breaking. Nina couldn’t say she didn’t; the words simply would not form in her mouth. She closed her eyes to avoid meeting Angel’s gaze, and let out a deep breath. “This isn’t about whatever I said or… felt”, she finally said. “We should have ended this the night we first slept together. It shouldn’t have gone further”. “Cuervo…”, Angel tried. “We’re done”, Nina declared, and forced his hands off her shoulders, before pushing past him, and grabbing her bag. “I’m sorry”. She almost ran out of the trailer, knowing Angel would physically try to stop her if she didn’t. “Nina!”, he called after her. She looked towards the porch; and through a haze of unshed tears, she saw Daniella smiling as she went.

Before anyone had a chance to stop her, Nina slipped into the front office, and dug out the small cashbox Chucky kept there. She felt bad for taking money from it, but she needed cash for wherever she was going. A few notes in hand, she ran off the lot, and down the road. Avoiding getting found in Santo Padre was difficult, as Nina had spent very little time away from the scrap yard. She knew she had to work fast to get as far away as possible, as soon as possible. There was no doubt in her mind that Angel would try to come after her – he was probably already on his way – and if he didn’t, Bishop might, to get her to fulfill her one-year promise.

Once out on the main road, she flagged down a car, and convinced the driver that she needed to get to a bus station; because her brother was sick, and she had to go see him. She was only half lying, she realized, as there was really only one place in the world she wanted to go in that moment. She had to go see her brother.

---

It took a little over a day to make the trip back to north California. The cash Nina had taken from the scrapyard could only get her so far by bus, and she had to hitch rides the rest of the way. Each time she heard the sound of a motorbike, or saw anyone wearing leather, she had the instinct to duck her head. She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of. Clearly, her cover wasn’t blown yet. Daniella wanted her alive, and if there was another snitch, they didn’t seem to be focused on her. It might have been the shame of how she’d run; how she’d been too weak to fight Daniella for what she wanted. Then again, that shame would have been greater and even more devastating, if fighting back had meant it would hurt her nephews. Ultimately, she was just distraught; and only wanted to speak with one person – even if he couldn’t reply.

It was just past midnight, when Nina finally made it to Redwood Memorial Cemetery, just outside of Charming. She’d gotten used to the heat in Santo Padre, and it was a cold night. With nothing more than a light jacket to cover herself, she was shivering as she walked down the rows of gravestones. She halted for a moment by a white stone, engraved with the name John Thomas Teller. Taking a moment to brush some stray leaves from the top of it, Nina sent a thought to the man who’d sired one of the most important people in her life; before moving on. Someone had left a bouquet of lilies on Tara’s grave. Her coworkers at St. Thomas, Nina figured. She chided herself for not having visited the grave more often, but coming to the cemetery had been painful the last couple of years. A fresh grave nearby sported multiple flower arrangements, and as no one was around, Nina nabbed a few roses from it, and left them next to the lilies. “Abel and Thomas are loved and safe. Sleep tight”, she whispered to the stone.

The last ten yards she had to walk towards her end goal felt like miles. A cold gush of wind made Nina shudder, and she threw her arms around herself; trying to rub some heat into them.

Jackson’s stone looked lonely, in spite of all the other’s surrounding it. It was like he had been in the last year of his life; surrounded by people, but alone in his pain. At the same time, it was incredibly peaceful; like it should be. He’d found rest from his torment and sorrow. Nina imagined him riding his bike down an ethereal highway; his father next to him, and Tara riding pivot. “Fucking soppy”, Nina chuckled to herself.

She sat down on the ground next to the stone, and ran her fingertips over the lettering. Jackson Nathaniel Teller. “I miss you…”, she began. She chewed her lips, and wiped away a stray tear. After a moment searching for the right words, she finally sighed. “I am so angry with you, Jackson. You left me… And I love you as well. I love you for everything you taught me about being a good person; which just makes me even more angry, because I’ll never be able to live up to the example you set… I fucked up. I took so many wrong turns after you died; even though I promised… I know you expected more from me, and I’m so sorry; but I’m not strong enough to…”. The stray tears had become two steady streams falling from her eyes. “You said, be happy… And I was really happy for the first time in what felt like forever. But I can’t be happy, and also live up to your example of protecting your family… My family”. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if trying to force herself to stop crying. “Your boys are safe, and I’m gonna keep them that way. That means breaking my promise of being happy to you, but I also know it’s what you would do… So, I guess in some way, I’m still doing what you taught me…”. She took a deep breath, and finally the tears stilled.

Nina moved behind the stone, and leaned her back against it; as she had sat back-to-back with Jackson on the roof of the old clubhouse in Charming, before the explosion. She remembered how her whole body would rumble along with Jax’s; as he laughed at whatever ridiculous thing she would tell him about her day – or the time she’d told him she was planning to drop out of high school, and sign up with CaraCara once she turned 18. Yeah, that’s not happening, darlin’. I’ll tie your ass to the seat, until you’re wearing that cap and gown. I don’t wanna see my little sister’s naked ass on camera. It was that conversation, and his response, that made her keep the fact that she’d quit community college hidden for a full week; before Chucky sold her out. A pang of pain struck her heart as she remembered that she hadn’t even said goodbye to the good-humored little man.

After a long moment, Nina began speaking again “I know I can’t live in memories, but it’s the closest thing to happiness that I have now… And I want to tell you about him”. She took a deep breath, almost as nervous as if Jackson would have been able to respond. “His name is Angel… and you would hate him”, she chuckled. “He’s a biker… surprise! Bet you didn’t see that coming… He’s smug, and a smartass; and a horny little shit… He’s also a Mayan… I know! But he’s also… so kind and full of life… and sofucking hot… which is something I guess you didn’t need to know”. She chewed her lower lip, and closed her eyes, seeing Angel in front of her. “He’s got this dimple between his eyebrows when he gets frustrated or confused – which is quite often, if I’m gonna be honest… And he’s so much smarter and warm and lovable than he gives himself credit for. I’ve never felt more loved and cared for, than when I was with him… I mean, I felt that from you, and from Filip and the rest; but… This was different, because I wasn’t just a sister or a friend. I love him. Like love him…”. She frowned. “But it’s over. I had to end it”.

The cold was getting to her, so the shivers from her pain mixed with ones of freezing. She hadn’t eaten or drank anything for more than a day, and she was exhausted. She looked around her, not ready to leave; and not really knowing where to go anyway. Opening her backpack, Nina got out the journal, and opened a random page; running her fingers over the handwritten words. “Know that the decisions that you make effect everyone and everything, along with yourself. It has taken me a long time to realize that, and I wish I would have sooner. And as much as I want to help you, tell you what to do; I can't. Those choices will be yours, and yours alone. The only advice I can give you, is to examine who you are as a person and what you choose as your path in your life. Find your own truth. It will lead you to the things you love”. “I wish you could help me too”, she whispered. “I don’t know what my path is, and I can’t promise to get over this. I can’t promise that I will be happy; and we both know me well enough to know, that I’m not gonna handle this well… So, I’m just not gonna make any of those promises; it wouldn’t be honest of me if I did…”. She clutched the journal against her chest, and fished the .38 out of the bag; holding it in her hand. Nina sat for a long time, just looking at it. “I’m gonna sleep now. And then I’m gonna drink, and smoke, and try to get laid… and do everything else unhealthy, until I can finally become numb enough to… not chose your path”.

She had nothing else to say; simply couldn’t find the words. Instead, she curled up on the cold ground, closed her eyes; and let sleep take her over.

---

“Nina?”. She heard footsteps heading her way. Filip looked down at her disheveled state, and then at the gravestone and the gun in her hand; and his face dropped. “She’s here”, he said. Tig and Happy came up behind him. “Shit, muffin. What happened?”, Tig asked. Happy frowned. “Chibs, why is she here?”. “Not now, Hap’”, Filip said. “Let’s just get her out of here. Get the gun”. One of them scooped her into their arms; she was too exhausted to notice who…

---

The radio was turned all the way up, and she was swaying her hips to the music.

“Nina, get off the counter!”, Filip called out from across the room. He looked almost angry. Nina took a sip of her beer, and stretched her arms into the air. “Why? I thought the party was about to start…”, she laughed. Filip walked over to her, and wrapped his arms around her legs, making her fall over his shoulder. “Yes. A children’s birthday party. This is an ice cream shop, you lush”, he growled, and carried her out the back door; setting her down at the foot of the stairs going up to the actual SAMCRO clubhouse. She noticed Rat smiling apologetically at the arriving guests; which consisted of a group of 7-yearolds, and the flabbergasted mother of the birthday-boy. “Tell them I’m sorry”, Nina whispered very loudly to Filip, before looking towards the mother. “I’m sorry!”, she yelled.

Filip dragged her up the stairs, and more or less threw her on one of the leather couches. “Jesus Christ, Nina…”, he sighed exasperatedly. “We do actually need the front of this operation functioning”. “Pfft”, Nina sputtered. “Everyone in town knows what this place is. You’re leather clad bikers who sell guns, for fucks sake! I need a drink”. She went to get off the couch, but Filip pushed her back down, and took the beer bottle from her hand. “You’ve had enough”, he said. “Get some sleep”. “No sleep ‘til Charming!”, Nina sang. “You’re in Charming", Tig said, having come over from the bar area. He snatched her pack of smokes from her, before she could get them from the coffee table, and held out a glass of water. Nina scrunched up her nose. “Fish pee in that”, she said. Tig sat down, and lifted the glass to her lips. “Don’t make me hold your nose”, he said. The water looked a little murky, but Nina accepted the glass, and drank it all, before throwing it into the air. Filip caught it mid-air, and rolled his eyes. “Buzz-kill”, Nina sneered.

She leaned back in her seat, before suddenly, her stomach began rumbling violently. Tig sprang for a trashcan, and held it in front of her; just in time for Nina to hurl a week's worth of alcohol and Happy’s scrambled eggs into it. “What was in that?”, Filip grunted. “Bit of charcoal”, Tig said. “Better than taking her to get her stomach pumped at St. Thomas’”. “I hate you…”, Nina heaved between two streams of vomit leaving her mouth. “I know, muffin. I love you too”, Tig smiled, and stroked her back.

After what seemed like hours, Nina finally had nothing left inside her to throw up, and she curled up on the couch. “Now I’m sober… thanks”, she said sarcastically. “Give me my cigarettes”. Filip went to get her bag, and dug out her toothbrush; handing it to her. “This is all you’re putting in your mouth for now”, he said. “Add toothpaste. You smell like death”. Nina disgruntledly took the toothbrush from him, and got on her feet to go to the bathroom; grabbing the toothpaste from her bag on the way.

Once she’d finished brushing her teeth, and splashed some cold water in her face, she went back into the bar area. “You’ve kept me here for days. I wanna go back to my apartment”, she said. “You can’t. Lyla’s using it as a set today”, Tig said. Nina groaned. “They’re gonna get porn-cum on my sheets”, she said. “Wouldn’t be the first time. What was that fella’s name again…? Kirk?”, Filip laughed, and went behind the bar to pour himself a scotch, and fill a mug of coffee. Happy and T.O. came up the stairs as they spoke. “I just remember him as; Please-god-no-I-swear-I’ll-never-talk-to-her-again-guy”, Tig said indifferently. “I think Opie took care of that one”. “Nah, that was Jax himself”, Happy said. “He’s teaching history in Milwaukee now”. “The history of his once functioning penis, I gather”, Filip muttered and looked at Nina, who’d sat down by a table. “Did he know you were 17?”. “I was 19!”, Nina sneered. “And his name was… Fuck, I can’t remember… Look, call Lyla, and then take me home!”.

Filip sat down across from her, and slid the coffee over the table. Nina took a welcome sip of it. “I don’t trust you on your own”, he said softly. “Is that why you won’t give me back my gun?”, she muttered. “You remind me too much of your brother at the moment”, he replied. Rage and sadness streamed through her body, and Nina got up; kicking her chair hard, making it fall to the floor. “Then give me a goddamn bike, and I’ll hit the road. There are trucks enough out there!”. She speed across the room, trying to reach the stairs; but T.O. got in her way, and grabbed her shoulders. He pushed her backwards into Happy’s arms. He picked her up like she weighed nothing more than a small child, and deposited her on the couch. He looked down at her with enraged eyes, tears forming in the corners of them. “Don’t ever say that again! Ever!”, he growled. Nina was shook, and suddenly her body began quaking. She sobbed quietly, and covered her eyes with her hands. Happy sat down next to her, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry”, she whimpered. “I know, princess”. He rocked her back and forth, and kissed the top of her head.

Nina looked up, and was struck by each of the Sons’ expressions; ranging from sad, to angry, to pained. “I can’t stop fucking up… All I do is hurt people…”, she sobbed. Filip reached his hands out, and Happy released her to take them, and be pulled into the president’s embrace. “You are pure light, my love”, he said, before cupping her tear-streaked face in his hands. “Stop trying to snuff it out… I’m not talking about threatening to off yourself; we both know that will never happen, because we won’t allow it”. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You have to stop thinking of yourself like a failure not worthy of happiness. Stop killing that flame inside you”. “But I can’t be happy…”, Nina croaked. “If I try to be…”. She halted herself. She hadn’t told anyone of her deal with Danielle. “Tell me…”, Filip said. “I can’t”, Nina replied resolutely. “It’s… life or death”.

She pulled herself out of his grasp, and went for her cigarettes; which Tig had put on the top shelf behind the bar. He didn’t try to stop her. “Everything we do is life or death”, T.O. said. It was the first words he’d spoken since he’d arrived, but they were poignant. Nina lit her cigarette, and hesitantly met his eyes. “This is different”, she said. “If it was just… No”. She took a draw of her cigarette, picked up the chair from the floor, and sat down by the table again. “This is how it is now. I’m home, and I’ll try to… be better”.

They were interrupted by Quinn coming up the stairs. He looked around at the emotional faces in the room, and frowned. “Did you guys watch the Notebook again?”, he asked with a smirk. “Whatever; wrap it up. We got the in-laws incoming”. Nina frowned in confusion. “What’s going on?”, she asked. Filip gave her a half smile. “You wanted to go home; didn’t you…?”.

A roar of motorcycles sounded from outside, and Nina looked out of the window. A group of bikes came down the street, led by a brusque looking man on a roadking – handlebars high as the sky.

---

tag: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

[samcrobae]

Two of Hearts, Part II

A/N: Part 2 for Two of Hearts, Part one can be found here https://samcrobae.tumblr.com/post/637625871146074112/two-of-hearts

Gif Credit to the original creators, as always

EZ glanced between the two of you then shoved past Angel.

Slightly outstretching his arms to you, he warmly speaks, “I’m home baby”. The bile in your throat threatens to spill out so you keep your arms crossed against your chest and retreat backward. Angel notices the action and sticks his hand in front of his younger brother.

“Look man, maybe give her a minute.” EZ creased his brows and slapped Angel’s hand away.

“Nah look man.. how bout you tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Are you fuckin serious right now EZ? You want US to tell you what is going on? How bout YOU tell us. Where the fuck have you been bro? 8 fuckin months you’re gone and you just show up here with no heads up,” Angel’s voice now a yell, “I spent 3 fuckin months looking for your ass day and night. I wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t eating, barely worked, barely helped the club and you were nowhere to be found. Do you know what it was like thinking your brother was dead?”

Your heart began to race as you watched the veins in Angel’s neck on the verge of exploding. You didn’t know what to do or say, and your feet betrayed you in the worst ways. You were frozen in place, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You did the only thing you knew how.

“Ezekiel, get out”. Both men snap their heads back and look at you. Angel’s eyes grow wide and EZ’s brows remained furrowed.

“What?”

“I said-get out-now. I have nothing to say to you right now and I just want to go to bed. It’s fucking Christmas for fucks sake. Just.. get out.”

There was a moment of silence that lasted about 15 seconds, with the three of you standing in the same spot, staring at one another. And in those 15 seconds, you swear you felt an eternity pass. You glance at Angel and notice his slender frame, now broad and tense, on guard as to not knowing what would happen next. FInally, EZ shook his head, tears form in his eyes, but turned before you could take notice. He turned and grabbed his bag, and headed toward the door. His hand on the knob, he turned to face Angel, jaw clenched and if looks could kill, Angel would have been dead 4 times over tonight. He walked out the door, slamming it deliberately behind him and his bike roared to life.

As soon as the door shut, you legs betrayed you once again, falling to the floor, an emotional mess and Angel rushed over to you. No words were needed in that moment, because he already knew what it was that you needed.

———————————————-

The next morning you woke, but Angel was gone. You checked your phone and and saw a text from him.

📲 Ignacio:

“Had a shift at the yard this morning. Come by around lunch time, we’ll get something to eat if you want.”

Your head was spinning from the events that took place a few short hours before. What the hell was EZ doing here? Why did he come back? Where did he go? You had so many questions and none of the answers. You knew the only person who was able to give them to you would be EZ, but you didn’t have the strength to have a conversation with him. Not now anyway.

Back at the yard, Angel was sat at one of the benches playing with an unlit cigarette between his fingers. He was unphased as Coco and Gilly took seats across from him.

“You good Mano?” Coco was the first to speak, detecting a look of defeat on Angel’s face.

Angel brought the cigarette to his lips and then lit it, inhaling the smoke, then slowly letting it out, he nods his head at Coco. “My brother come by here last night?”

“EZ? Why would EZ come by? Is he here?” Gilly shot a glance over at the trailer that had remained parked in the lot the last 8 months.

Nodding his head, Angel takes another puff of his cigarette, “came by Y/N’s place at 2 in the morning.”

“Damn, how is she doing?” Coco asks, now lighting a cigarette of his own.

“I don’t know, shaken up obviously. She told him to leave and then she was a mess. Then she just snapped out of it. She was blank, emotionless and then went to sleep. When I left this morning she was still asleep.”

“Well yeah, he just left with no explanatio—hang on. Bring that back a minute, when you left this morning? You stayed over at her place?” Gilly leaned in, his voice now a hushed whisper.

“Yeah we just kinda fell asleep at her place after the party here. Don’t make it a thing.” Angel stomped his cigarette out.

“I’m not making it a thing. It’s not a thing.... did you sleep with her?”

“What? No. What are you 12? Did I sleep with her? No..” Angel pressed his lips together in a thin line.

Coco smirked, “nah but something happened.. I can tell.”

All eyes were on Angel and he sucked his teeth, looking around to make sure there were no listening ears, “we kissed, alright, you happy? I Kissed my brothers girl. She stopped it before it went any further.”

“But you wanted it to go further.” Both Gilly and Coco said. It wasn’t an ask, not a question, but a matter of fact statement. Angel stood quiet, then looked down at this hands, playing with this rings.

“It’s okay to like her Mano. You guys have been through more shit in the last 8 months than a person would in a lifetime. She knows you in and out, good and bad, but she wants you around, wants to spend time with you. She wouldn’t have let you kiss her if she didn’t. But she’s vulnerable. You are too. Be careful.” Coco stomped his cigarette out and looked over at Angel.

“Look man its too early for the Church of Coco. I’m done talking about this. I mean it”- he tapped Coco on the arm, “don’t make this shit a thing.”

__________________________________________________________

You walk into the clubhouse, scanning the room for Angel, but see Letty and Riz at a table, Letty lost in some homework she had to catch up on over break.

“Hey Trouble, you’re still working on that paper?” You wrap an arm over her and she comes in for a hug.

“Yeah, I’m almost done, actually, can I ask you to look it over so far? Riz sucks.”

“Ouch! You said I was a big help!” Riz feigns insult but gets up and laughs.

While you were looking over her paper, your phone lights up and EZ’s name flashes across the screen with a message:

📲 Ezekiel ❤️: Hey Y/N. Can we talk? Let me know when you’re free.

You pick up your phone but not before Letty notices. You’re lost in thought, reading and rereading the messages and the doors swing open, Angel and Coco striding in. Angel sees you and smiles in your direction, and heads over to greet you.

He went in to kiss your head and you stood up to hug him, your head awkwardly hitting his mouth, both of you stumbling over your words, “Sorry.”

“It’s cool, I’m gonna go wash my hands and change my shirt and we can go alright?” Angel disappears into the bathroom, Gilly and Coco smirking at the painfully cringe worthy exchange.

“It’s a thing.” Coco laughs and nudges Gilly.

Letty looks over at you, “its okay to love them both.”

Your eyes shot up in shock, then you felt the heat in your cheeks. “What?what are you talking about?”

She smiles then leans in closer to you, “Angel and EZ. It’s okay to love them both. You love them differently, and they love you differently, too. They have both done different things for you.”

Angel reappeared from the bathroom, “ready?”

“Yeah, I’m just wrapping this up, I’ll be right out”- you turn to look at Letty, “I don’t love them both.”

You met Angel out in the yard and got into your car, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as you reversed out of your parking spot. This felt right. His hands on you. His lips on yours. The way he smiled when he saw you earlier.

You didn’t love them both.

Right?

———————————-

@starrynite7114 @angelreyesgirl @drabbles-mc @wrcn9fvlcver @iambabyharry @sesamepancakes @blessedboo @everyhowlmarksthedead

[cherryrogers]

➸ call me baby {2/3}

SUMMER NIGHTS

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: swearing, violence, implied smut, mainly fluff.

word count: 7.8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: ok so this has turned into a three part series!! the next part will likely be a bit shorter, but i wanted to wrap up the story properly and i felt that needed it’s own separate part. i’m gonna post a masterlist for this series tomorrow, and i might write some drabbles for this fic to add to it once it’s finished if anyone has any hc/drabble ideas they’d like to send in?? i need to stop rambling so much lmao,,, please enjoy!!

Sunsets; consisting of an array of warm tones, reds and oranges bleeding into each other, casting a dim, natural light over cities before the artificial yellow beaming of street lamps lit up the world instead. A comforting reminder that every bad day eventually ends, but a sad reminder that every perfect day ends too.

In your case, they’d been unsettling ends to a continuous string of perfect days. And following those, a bright sunrise poured light through your windows every morning, indicating that you were one day closer to the end of the summer.

Currently, the deep, warm sky was the background of a blissful ride through the city. Perched on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, your arms enveloping his waist, fingertips grazing lightly over his stomach through his shirt. No destination in particular; just an excuse to be close to one another.

Since the night at Wanda’s bar, the night where you simply let yourself begin to feel for Bucky, things had been different. Better.

Rides around the city were a frequent occurrence, usually happening when Bucky offered to take you home on his bike, but taking the long way back to enjoy the view and the feeling of you next to him for a short while longer.

It was therapeutic, tranquil. Well, until your road rage got the best of you.

“Dude, it’s a green light,” You shouted at the car in front you. “Green means go, didn’t you learn that in kindergarten?”

“Christ, you realise you’re yellin’ straight in my ear, right?”

“Sorry, Buck,” You patted his chest apologetically, before proceeding to yell once again. “Not my fault some people don’t know how traffic lights work!”

It was entertaining to Bucky, anyway. Even if it did earn you some middle fingers, which you gladly returned.

As the sky began to lose its vibrant hue, the two of you headed back in the direction of your place, definitely your least favourite part of the ride, but you savoured it nevertheless.

You were friends. Teasing each other incessantly because you just bounced off one another like that, but you often found yourself gravitating towards him. During meals at the clubhouse, you sat in the same spot as you did when you entered the place for the first time; right next to Bucky. While that likely meant for Steve and Peggy that they were in for a painful time, consisting of them slowly losing their patience with you both, they didn’t mind. Well, they did a little.

It’d been almost two hours since you started your game of Monoply. You weren’t sure if you were anywhere near the end of the game, but everyone was still pretty into it. Clint and Sam were paired up as a team, Steve and Peggy shared the little top-hat token, you and Bucky had the wheelbarrow, and Natasha had the car. She claimed she worked better when was on her own team, which was proved to be true by the fact she was winning.

It was Steve and Peggy’s turn to roll, and their top hat was moved to land on the ‘Boardwalk’ space.

“Oh, that’s our space!” You chirped. “Pay up, my dudes.”

“_____, you don’t have a house on that space.”

“Well, could you pass me one? I want this space.”

“You have to buy one.”

“Then I’ll buy one.”

Peggy sighed. “It’s not your turn, you can’t buy a house. Your token isn’t even on that space.”

You furrowed your brows, turning to Bucky. Maybe you should’ve read the rules before playing; you’d never actually played Monoply before. “Oh. That kinda sucks then.”

After a moment, Bucky reached over to the little bag of houses, picking one out and placing it on the Boardwalk space.

“Buck, that’s cheating.” Steve glared at his friend, who only shrugged innocently.

“She’s never played before, let her just have the damn house.”

“You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause she’s on your team, jerk.”

Bucky just shrugged again, turning to shoot you a wink as you smirked in satisfaction and placing your little house on the space, missing Steve and Peggy sharing a look of annoyance as they passed a pile of yellow bills over to you.

It was safe to say the two of you weren’t allowed to play as a team during board games anymore. Natasha always won the games anyway, so it’s not like you and him cheating made much of a difference.

You thought things were moving smoothly with Bucky. You knew that you liked him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew that — it was pretty fucking obvious at this point. But it would be a rather dumb move to escalate things even if you wanted to. The summer would be over in two months, one third of it was already gone, and you would be too by the beginning of September. Naively, you’d told yourself that you simply wouldn’t take things further. Easy enough, right?

Wrong; so very wrong. You’d proved to yourself that you seriously needed to stop acting impulsively on one fateful after a day spent at the clubhouse.

You’d been about to leave, but had decided to head off to the office where Bucky had been pretty much all evening while everyone else was out in the backyard, which was odd considering you would’ve assumed he’d be the last to not spend the night drinking beer and hanging out with friends over, well, anything else.

You knocked loudly on the door, hearing shuffling and the clicking of a computer keyboard before a quiet ‘come in’ followed. Furrowing your brows, you stepped into the room, eyes landing on the biker slumped in the chair at the desk, forcing a small smile. Did he really think your were that oblivious?

“You’ve been hiding in here all night,” You approaches the desk, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is there something you wanna share with the class?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered between the computer screen and your face, before he shook his head. “Just dealin’ with club stuff.”

“Hm, and what counts as club stuff?”

“It’s stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

You scoffed. “Huh, what happened to not doing stuff you shouldn’t be? Not getting into trouble?”

“Do you ever mind your own business?” Bucky questioned bluntly, though there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

Mirroring his expression, you leaned against the desk next to him. “Not when someone is clearly trying to hide something.

The biker bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating for a few moments. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Sure, he’d only known you around a month now, but you were... his friend. A good friend. He just didn’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. Steve wasn’t lying when he said that the club tried to stay out of trouble, because they definitely didn’t go out of their way to get into shitty situations. But if they needed to get their hands a little dirty to deal with clubs that thrived off trouble, then so be it.

Eventually, Bucky sighed, moving a hand back over his computer mouse and letting the screen light up again. Crinkling your brows, your eyes scanned the screen. He’d been looking at a map of Brooklyn, and the little red location pointer was pinned onto a warehouse downtown.

“Peter Parker, he’s just a kid. Parents died when he was barely five, lost his uncle a few years back. He lives at home with his aunt in Queens since he’s still in school, but we sorta took him in a while ago. The night after his uncle died, Tony found him on the sitting on the curb a few blocks away from here, completely distraught. He managed to talk him down though, and found out he was pretty good with engineering. We said if he wanted, he could help out with fixing bikes and cars at the clubhouse, and he comes by every so often since then.”

You didn’t know Tony that well; he was a little older than the rest of the club, and he lived outside of the clubhouse with his wife, Pepper. You hadn’t met Peter at all, but you trusted Bucky when he said that he was a good kid.

“Last week, he showed up to the here with a busted lip and broken nose. Said that Rumlow and his guys had jumped him, and that they wanted him to do a job for them — collect a weapon shipment from this warehouse.” Bucky nodded towards the screen.

At the mention of Brock Rumlow, you felt your jaw tighten. Thankfully, he’d kept his distance from Wanda’s bar since your last encounter with him, but you were still pissed off about the show he put on there, and there was nothing you regretted more than not jumping over the bar top and kicking him in the balls. Now he’d resorted to threatening a kid and making him do his dirty work?

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Peter’s meant to meet the guy delivering the weapons next week, so I’m gonna take Nat, Sam and Tony down to the warehouse and deal with any of Rumlow’s guys that are nearby.”

Upon seeing your face light up, Bucky chuckled, standing from his seat. “And no, you can’t come.”

“Bucky, I’m not a woman of many talents, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s handing people’s asses to them.” You lifted your chin confidently.

“Baby—”

You held a finger up to shush him. “Okay, I know I said that I liked when you call me that, but not now. Brock is the guy that grabbed me, Buck. And the guy that punched you in the face!”

“I know, and we’ll deal with him,” A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Besides, I thought you weren’t part of any club. Can’t do club stuff if you’re not a member.”

“Well, not that I want to... but how would one go about becoming part of your little gang?” You weren’t lying; you definitely did not want to be a damn biker, but you did want the chance to boot Brock Rumlow and his group of dipshits in the face.

“You could become an old lady.” The biker cocked a brow, and you chuckled heartily.

Not that you were up to date with the biker lingo, but you could take a good guess at what being an old lady meant. “Hm, if only there was someone that wanted me to be their old lady.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky glanced over your features, waiting for you to laugh and brush the comment off as a joke since the majority of your vocabulary was sarcasm, but you didn’t. The corners of your lips curled up slightly, not teasingly, but softly...

...Until you became painfully aware of the silence that’d fell upon the two of you, and let out a sigh to break it. It was already late when you were supposed to leave, anyway. Now, the dim moonlight was casting shadows outside of the office window, the only source of bright light being the yellow streams from lampposts dotted up and down the quiet street.

“Well, I should get going.” You reluctantly stepped back from him.

“You don’t have to go, you know. Peggy stays overnight when it’s late.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, cause Peggy has a boyfriend that she can share a bed with.”

“Hey, I’ve got a double bed.” Bucky teased, and you’d be lying if you said sleeping next to him in his bed didn’t make you feel a certain type of way.

Though, you definitely wouldn’t let him know that. “You’re stupid, Bucky.”

He shrugged, following you as you continued for the door of the office. “I mean, even if I had a single—”

“I would still not be getting in your bed,” You deadpanned, finishing his sentence for him and promoting the stupidly hot little smirk of his to appear again. “Okay, now I’m leaving. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you will not,” You breathed out a laugh. “There are two bottles of beer on that desk and death isn’t on the cards for me tonight — can’t get rid of me that easily.”

A look of realisation washed over his face, a pink colour tinting his cheeks. Was Bucky Barnes blushing? That was certainly a sight, and what a sight it was.

“S’alright — I don’t wanna get rid of you,” The biker stepped in front of you, dangerously close as your back hit the door. “Not yet, anyway.”

You couldn’t lie; Bucky was hot, he was beautiful. Even when he was being a sarcastic ass, but he was just as much one of them as you were. God dammit, as much as you wanted to slap yourself for letting your insides melt for a guy you didn’t know all that well, you knew that if you didn’t fucking kiss him right this second that you’d regret the hell out of it later.

And so, you did.

You grabbed the collar of the leather jacket he never failed to make an appearance without— or perhaps he just had a lot of leather jackets, though leather jackets didn’t necessarily need washed so it was probably the same jacket— not the time, _____. Carrying on, you swiftly captured his lips with yours, relief washing through you as you felt him react almost immediately. Almost, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to do that.

The kiss was gentle; gentle enough so that you could simply savour the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste a mixture of smoke and minty chewing gum. It was slow, but quick. Bucky didn’t even have the chance to move his hands to your waist before you pulled back, raising your hand to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“You still planning on getting rid of me?” You grinned, amused by the biker’s dumbfounded expression.

He laughed breathily after a couple of seconds, nose nudging yours playfully. “Not if you keep kissin’ me like that, baby.”

“Hm, maybe you’ll just get lucky again.” You pushed at his chest softly, letting you step forward and open the door to leave the office.

Bucky let out a scoff. “You’re really just gonna leave? After that?”

You shrugged, cocking a brow. “I mean, I could stay if you let me come with you next week...”

“No chance,” He smiled smugly. “Shut the door on your way out, will you?”

“You know what? I’m never kissing you again.”

“Whatever you say, _____.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, turning to make your way out of the room. “And I’m leaving the door open!”

“Hm, get home safe.” He called back.

Trying to bite back a smile as you looked over your shoulder back at him, you mouthed a final goodbye and left the office, a rush of feelings suddenly emerging as you stepped out of the clubhouse and onto the street.

You’d just kissed Bucky. You had kissed Bucky. And he had kissed you back. Well, shit.

Did you need to talk about it with him? What it meant for the two of you? Did he just kiss you for the fun of it or did he actually have feelings for you? Ugh. You’d always hated serious conversations, because apparently using sarcasm to cover up actually talking about your feelings was inappropriate and unhealthy. That’s what Peggy always told you, anyway. Perhaps there was no conversation to be had. Bucky could be your summer fling; a couple of months of fun before you were off on your travels again. The only reason he kissed you back might’ve been because he knew you were leaving eventually, which meant he didn’t have to commit to you.

Whatever — you were simply going to go with the flow. If you and Bucky ended up becoming... something more, that would be great. If not, you’d be slightly disappointed, but you’d be out of Brooklyn soon enough to forget about it.

And now, as you tightened your arms around the biker’s waist, you just enjoyed the moment. As someone that rarely stayed in a city for longer than a couple of weeks, enjoying the moment was all that you could do.

* * *

“Pegs, I am working. You can’t just call and ask me this kinda stuff during a shift.”

“I certainly can, especially when I had to hear it first from Steve.”

A strained sign fell from your lips as you leaned against bar, checking that no customers were approaching the counter before you turned your back. “I was gonna tell you, I promise. I didn’t think Bucky was gonna kiss and tell as soon as it happened.”

“I don’t think it was exactly a kiss and tell situation,” Peggy chuckled over the phone. “Steve said it was written all over his face after you’d left the clubhouse.”

Feeling heat rushing to your own face, you lowered your head, hoping no one was observing the bartender getting all embarrassed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Peggy about your kiss with Bucky. She was your best friend, of course you wanted to tell her. But considering that you weren’t really sure what direction you and him were going in, you thought perhaps that it’d be better to just keep it between you and him, like a Danny and Sandy situation — if everyone had known about their summer affair, it wouldn’t have been the same.

“Can you... tell him to not question Bucky about it?” You asked. “You told me he’d never been in a proper relationship before and neither have I. I think we need to work out... whatever we are ourselves, you know?”

Since the kiss, you hadn’t had the chance to even see Bucky that much. Wanda had been asking you to work more shifts at the bar because one of your co-workers was going on vacation for two weeks, which you didn’t mind doing. Other than hanging out with Peggy and seeing everyone at the clubhouse, it’s not like you had much better to do. Plus, it meant more money to put towards your travels at the end of the summer. At the rate you were earning and including what you already had saved up, you’d be getting your dream London trip a lot sooner than you’d thought.

“Of course, I understand,” She replied. “_____, I— I don’t want to play devil’s advocate, but have you thought about what’ll happen when summer ends? When you leave Brooklyn?”

The thought had crossed your mind, yes, though it was also pushed to the back of your mind whenever it popped up. In all honesty, you had zero clue what’d happen when you left Brooklyn again.

“Nope,” You said defeatedly. “Do I need to think about that now? What if we don’t even last until the end of summer?”

From the pause in conversation, you could just tell that Peggy knew you were bullshitting. “Okay, I’m going to pretend you did not just say that. You don’t just kiss guys, _____. And Bucky doesn’t get all flushed from kissing any old woman. It’s obvious you two click easily, and I honestly don’t think it’s something that can just end once you leave.”

The girl was right, she was completely right, but you weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do. It’s not like you could stay in Brooklyn forever and abandon your travels. That wasn’t who you were; staying wouldn’t be you being true to yourself. You couldn’t throw that away for a man you barely knew, a guy that possibly may not want you anymore after the summer ends, though there was a large part of you that didn’t believe that.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Peggy, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the kiss earlier, everything is just... it’s just confusing,” You rambled, wanting to steer the conversation away from your love life for the night. It was nearing nine o’clock, and with an hour still left of your shift, you didn’t want to waste your energy on a conversation that could be had another time. “Anyway, how is everyone? Has Steve heard from Bucky?”

This night was also the night that poor Peter Parker was meant to be carrying out Rumlow’s dirty work, and Bucky was going to get his club to back off. Well, hopefully. He’d already been punched in the face by that bastard once, you hoped that he’d be able to avoid having that happen again. You’d texted him earlier, telling him to let you know when he was home and safe because you would, in fact, worry about him. He teased you for your concern, but you frankly didn’t care. The fact they were having Peter pick up a weapon shipment implied that they wanted to use them to hurt people, and opposing biker clubs seemed like the type of people they’d target.

“They’ve been out an hour, so they should hopefully be back soon,” Peggy assured you. “We haven’t heard from them yet, though.”

“Right,” You exhaled, a little upset that there was no update from them. The sound of the door opening a few metered behind you reminded you that you were still at work, and that you should probably say goodbye to Peggy for the time being. “I’ve gotta go, Pegs — duty calls. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright, darling. Be careful going home.”

With a quiet ‘will do’, you quickly ended the phone call and shoved the device into your jean pocket, turning around to identify the source of the footsteps getting closer to the bar. Well, fuck.

An ugly smirk, scruffy jaw, messy hair — Brock fucking Rumlow was standing right in front of you.

You could’ve laughed, in fact, you did laugh. He was back, even after the embarrassing show he put on last time he was at the bar, and this time, he was alone.

Putting back the glass you’d pulled out from under the bar on instinct, because there was no way you were serving him, you cocked a brow, waiting for him to make the first move.

He slid onto the stool in front of you, the same place he’d sat during his last visit. There was a short silence as his dark eyes roamed your face, before he exhaled heavily. “You not gonna ask for my order?”

“No.” You answered instantly. It looked like he was expecting the cold shoulder from the way he chuckled at your answer.

You wanted to ask what he was doing here, why he wasn’t down at that random warehouse making sure the teenager he manipulated was doing the job correctly, but you didn’t imagine it was a good idea to let on that Bucky was telling you about that sort of stuff. He’d probably try to hurt him as opposed to you, and you didn’t want to put Bucky in any unnecessary shit.

“You know, it’s against the law to refuse service to an innocent customer.”

Clearly, he didn’t know the law at all, but you found it awfully ironic that he was claiming that you were in the wrong side of the law. You cocked your brow higher. “And you’re always abiding by the law, Brock?”

“What makes you think I’m not?” The man narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged nonchalantly. “Last time you were here, you were the one assaulting an innocent customer, and me.”

Brock scoffed. “You’re calling Barnes innocent?”

You only stared at him, waiting for an elaboration.

“Do you know where he is right now?”

Yes — dealing with your bullshit and the rest of your gang.

“Enlighten me.”

“A dirty warehouse across town, meeting a dude that’s sellin’ him weapons. Rifles, pistols, you name it.” He leaned forward on his elbows, pursing his lips.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you met his eyes, dark and full of hope that he’d somehow miraculously turned you against Bucky -- he was going to have to try a little harder than that if he wanted to sell his lies.

“Where are the rest of you pals, Brock?”

He furrowed his brows. “Down at the warehouse, shutting down the deal.”

“And why aren’t you with them, hm? I don’t think it’s ‘cause you decided you wanted a drink over the chance to screw Bucky and his club over.”

The guy clearly thought you were oblivious, that you’d be naive enough to believe that Bucky was the one having Peter collect the weapons instead of him. Maybe he thought it’d turn you against him, and then you’d carelessly join Rumlow’s club without a second thought. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you anything, there wasn’t a thing that could come out of Rumlow’s mouth that could convince you Bucky’s club was doing anything of the sort.

Unfortunately, the comment seemed to tip the conversation in the exact way you hadn’t wanted it to.

Brock’s jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he sat up properly on the stool. “What’s he been tellin’ you, huh?”

“I think it’s time for you to go, Brock.” You glared at the man. There was no way you were letting him sit and annoy the shit out of you when you weren’t going to serve him.

“You see,” He laughed emptily. “If Barnes has been spillin’ things that he shouldn’t be, I need to know. Can’t have any false information spreading.”

“False information, right,” You muttered. In your defense, all you knew about his club was about them manipulating Peter. Though you could assume that wasn’t the only stupid shit they were doing, you didn’t know anything else for sure. “Well, you’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything, so get out of here.”

Brock tutted, rising from his seat and cracking his knuckles. “You’re a good liar, but I ain’t buyin’ it.”

“That’s not my problem,” You glowered, loving quickly around the bar to pace towards the door, opening it in an attempt to lure him out. “You need to go, or I’ll call Wanda over.”

Stalking towards you, the man shook his head. “If Barnes thinks he can tell his little girlfriend all of our business, he’s a fucking idiot,” He took a grasp on your wrist, his other hand curling into a fist. “Someone’s gotta show him what the consequences of that are.”

Anger flashed in your eyes as you struggled against his grip. “Get off me, dude. I don’t know anything.”

“Liar.” He murmured, before taking his fist and colliding it with your cheek abruptly.

A groan of pain left your lips as you stumbled back, the clutch on your wrist gone as Brock eyed you cautiously. Carefully, you brought your hand to where you’d been hit, blood quickly staining your fingertips as they grazed over the cuts on your skin from Brock’s rings. He’d hit you. That stupid, fucking son of a bitch had punched you. If there was any justifiable reason for you to kick him in the balls, this was it, and you were going to take advantage of the opportunity.

He definitely thought you were done with him for the night; you could tell by the way his chapped lips curled into a sick smile. He thought he’d won — how cute.

When your parents made you take self-defense classes ‘just as a precaution’ when you were a teenager, you thought it was unreasonable. Now, you’d never been more thankful.

Brushing your hair out of your face, your eyes flickered up to Brock, who was still staring down at you. Slowly, you moved so that your back was pressed against the closed bar door, clasping your hands around the long metal handle. The man assumed you were just catching your breath, and wasn’t ready for when you forcefully pushed your body forward, raising a booted foot and slamming it into his crotch.

A string of swear words fell from his lips as his upper body fell forward, Fuck it, you thought, striding over to his hunched over form and smashing your own fist against his cheek. He staggered back, just catching himself on the bar. Eyes wide, he raised his head to scowl at you, spitting blood from his freshly split lip onto the floor beside him.

From the other side of the bar, Wanda jogged over to the scene, an unimpressed scowl on her face. “What the hell is going on?”

The woman knew it wasn’t you causing the trouble, and there was even a smug smirk threatening to peak through her annoyed demeanor at the sight of Brock Rumlow with a split lip. She strode over to him, pulling him up harshly by the collar of his jacket.

“You’re banned from this bar. If I see you in here again, you’re getting a bullet straight through your gut, yes?” Wanda practically spat at the man, who nodded reluctantly and pulled away from her grasp. She turned to you, a small smile on her lips. “_____, you’re free to go early. Do you need...?”

Wanda eyed your cut cheek and bruised jaw, but you only shook your head. “Thanks, Wan, but I’ll just head home.”

The strawberry-blond nodded, sending a final glare towards Brock before heading back behind the bar.

Of course, your stubborn self wouldn’t let yourself leave without having the last word, causing you to approach him as he haphazardly stood from where he’d fallen. “If I ever have the displeasure of seeing you again, and you try to hurt me or anyone else, I’ll cut off your fingers and force them down your throat, you got that?”

Before you could wait for an answer, you were spinning around and heading out the double doors of the bar, ignoring the throb on the left side of your face as a satisfied smirk crept onto your lips. You’d never considered yourself to be a violent person, but when it came to assholes like Brock Rumlow, you didn’t mind getting your hands a little dirty. When you told Peggy about what happened, she’d likely scold you for even just mouthing back at him. You had zero regrets, however. You’d always wanted to experience a bar fight, and now you’d experienced one first hand.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Stretching out your aching knuckles, you swiped it from your jeans.

Back at the clubhouse safe and sound. You want me to pick you up from work in an hour?

You chuckled under your breath, typing out a response.

Can you come up now? Wanda let me off early.

Sure, I’ll be there soon. Did you do something special to get off at this time?

Pausing, you debated whether to let him know straight away about the incident. You decided against it; when he saw your face, he’d figure it out soon enough.

Something like that...

After twenty minutes of aimlessly standing outside of the bar, the familiar roar of a motorcycle engine caught your attention. As the bike came to a stop, the beaming headlights had you squinting to even make out the outline of Bucky in the dark. However, judging by the speed at which he was dismounting the bike, you were sure that the light had allowed him to see the state of you.

“Holy shit, _____,” Bucky paced over to you, hands coming to your shoulders. “What the hell happened?”

You let out a hesitant laugh. “Uh, rough shift?”

Scoffing, the biker narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, looks like it. What— are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You assured him, removing his hands from your shoulders and squeezing them comfortingly. “Trust me, you should see the other guy.”

“You were fighting?”

“Bucky,” You intervened, for now deciding against telling him that it was in fact Brock Rumlow you’d gotten on the wrong side of. It’d only result in him marching into the bar himself and starting another disturbance, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wanda pulled out her pistol again. “C’mon, can we go? My house, the clubhouse, wherever — I’ll explain when half of my face isn’t aching like hell.”

The man paused, eyeing you cautiously before a soft chuckle left his lips. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You patted his chest, plastering on a smile. “Now come on; I didn’t wait this long to clean you up when you got decked across the face.”

With an amused eye roll, Bucky tugged on your hand and led you to the bike. He’d never seen someone so calm after getting a punch to the face, but then again — as cliché as it was — he’d never met anyone like you before.

Half an hour later, the biker had you sat on the counter-top in one of the bathrooms at the clubhouse, standing between your legs and gently dabbing at your cut with a wet cloth. The bleeding had stopped by the time you got to the clubhouse, but it still needed cleaned up. You were holding a cool ice pack to your jaw, watching him intently as he took care of you. Might as well take the opportunity to stare at the guy, right?

“I’m gonna put some antiseptic cream on the cut, just to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He muttered, reaching for the tub of it in the wooden cabinet above you.

“Are you getting a sense of déjà vu too?” You quirked a brow, eliciting a smirk from him.

“Hm, a little bit; I guess we both just can’t avoid trouble,” Bucky cupped your jaw as he applied the cream, chuckling when you mumbled a ‘motherfucker’ under your breath at the sting. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Well,” You sighed. “Long story short... Brock Rumlow happened.”

Pulling back, Bucky furrowed his brows and waited for you to elongate the story, but you only shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. You knew that Brock being involved would only fuel a rage that he couldn’t relieve.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a frustrated laugh falling from his lips. “Rumlow did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me at the bar? Was he still there? I would’ve went in there and—”

“I know exactly what you would’ve done; why do you think I waited until now to tell you?” Though you were smiling, Bucky was still understandably apprehensive. Pursing your lips, you grabbed one of his loosely clenched fists and held it in your lap. “I meant it when I said ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’ — Brock’s face looks the same as mine and he got a boot to the balls. Plus, I think his ego was bruised enough without someone else going in there and knockin’ his lights out.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, unable to suppress a small grin. He never underestimated your power; anyone would be a fool to do so. When you were angry, you showed it. When someone hit you, you hit them back harder, metaphorically and literally. It wasn’t even that you had a short temper, you just didn’t put up with people’s shit, and Bucky highly admired that. “Well, I’m jealous of anyone that was there to see it — I bet it was damn hot.”

You scoffed, though seconds later you were shrugging in agreement. “It definitely was, you would’ve loved it.”

While he returned the first-aid stuff to their rightful places in the bathroom, you explained to Bucky what had gotten Brock so riled up. He wasn’t surprised that Brock tried to convince you that he was the bag guy in all of this; he’d tried to do it with Peggy too when she first started dating Steve. In his misogynistic mind, he thought that women were naive enough to be persuaded of anything that he wanted them to believe, and that by getting you on his side would mean he’d ‘won’ over Bucky. Perhaps he’d learned his lesson that night to not underestimate a woman’s power — dumbass.

Down at the warehouse, they’d managed to get Peter out of there before the person delivering the weapon shipment could arrive. There were one or two of Rumlow’s guys there keeping watch, but without him, they ran away like scared children. You teased Bucky about being a ‘big bad biker’ as he explained the night to you, but he insisted it was Natasha that had them crapping their pants; she never usually made an effort to hide the set of knives on her hip, and she apparently had a death-stare that could have anyone shaking in their boots. With him being banned from Wanda’s bar and unsuccessful with his plan of using Peter, they doubted Brock Rumlow would show his face around the area for a while. He’d only be embarrassing himself if he did.

Not long after your cut had been tended to and the pain in your jaw had subsided, you found yourself once again fighting the temptation to stay the night at the clubhouse — the temptation being a whiny biker named Bucky Barnes.

“But you’ve had a rough day,” He bargained, following after you as you made your way to the front door of the clubhouse. “It’ll save you the ride back if you stay.”

Chortling lightly, you turned around to face him. “A rough day? Buck, I gave an asshole a well-deserved kick in the balls, I’ve had a great day.”

“But what about your cheek? It might start bleeding again and—”

“Bucky,” You cut him off, biting back a smile. “Why do you really want me to stay?”

There was a short pause, heat pooling in the biker’s cheeks at the question as he raised a brow, silently asking you if he was supposed to actually answer the question. When you only quirked your own brow, he sighed, his lips curling into a fond smile. “...because I don’t like it when you leave? ‘Cause I like you a whole lot and I really wanna kiss you again?”

Slowly, you trailed a slightly bruised hand up his chest, stopping at the nape of his neck to tangle your fingers in the hair there. “You should’ve just lead with the kiss, biker.”

Before you could notice the doting grin on his lips, Bucky had looped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his chest, soft lips locking with yours tenderly. Your other arm was quick to wrap around his neck as you found yourself wanting to be impossibly closer to him. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a deep moan from his lips, and you pulled away with a satisfied smirk.

“So you’ll stay?” Bucky spoke against your lips, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“If you keep kissing me like that.” You imitated his words from your last kiss, to which he shook his head and clasped his hand around yours, leading you out of the hallway and up to his room.

You hoped the rest of the club were asleep, because from the thump of your body being pushed against Bucky’s bedroom door after he’d dragged you inside and shut it, you were sure that they could assume who was causing the racket at almost midnight.

Bucky’s mouth was on yours in a matter of seconds, hands cupping your jaw, carefully avoiding pressing against the side that was bruised. Meanwhile, your fingers gently traced across the hem of his t-shirt, riding it up so that the pads of your fingers came into contact with his lower stomach, ghosting over the waistband of his jeans. He stepped back momentarily, shoving his leather jacket down his arms and letting it fall to the floor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your jacket,” You breathed. “It’s like you’re naked already.”

“Who said anything about getting naked?” He teased, hands coming to trace over your own exposed stomach. “Someone’s eager.”

“You’re stupid,” You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. “Coming from the guy who just said he liked me, sap.”

“Real mature,” He snickered, riding your shirt up to your chest and tugging it off when you raised your arms to aid him. His lips moved to the crook of your neck, trailing light kissed along the soft skin there. “I meant it, though. I really like you, baby.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his attached to a certain spot on your neck, your hand fisting his shirt in response. You didn’t even have to say it back; it was obvious that you felt the same way about him in pretty much every way. The way your body was reacting to his, the breathy way that his name was falling from your swollen lips, and the fact you’d kissed him the week prior was a good indicator too.

“And you said you’d never get in my bed.” Bucky smirked after helping you pull off his own shirt.

“Technically, I’m not in your bed yet.”

“Yet,” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing his hand down your jaw, along the curve of your shoulder and down to the hem of your bra. “Can’t wait to have you there, moaning all pretty for me.”

Your face grew hot at his words, but his lips were on yours again too quickly for him to notice. When he eventually pulled back for air, you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Hm, let’s not wait any longer then.”

And he didn’t let you wait any longer, leaning down to kiss you with a passionate hunger as he dragged you by both of your hands to his bed. Maybe it was the way he didn’t rush, that he took time memorizing every inch of your skin with gentle lips and wandering hands. Maybe it was the sighs and moans of pleasure that he’d managed to draw from you so easily, or the way he whispered praises and sweet nothings into your ear as he positioned himself comfortably between your legs. But after the two of you had reached your highs and were left grinning like idiots and panting for breath, you realised how fucking hard you’d fallen for the damn biker who’d somehow gotten you in his bed.

* * *

Soft snores gradually drew you from your slumber, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks before you eventually squinted your eyes open. It couldn’t have been any later than 5am; daylight was peaking through the curtains of the bedroom, but the world outside was still quiet. Quiet for New York, anyway.

Bucky had his arms tucked under his pillow, face buried into the cotton, lips parted, brown strands of hair falling in front of his face. Back muscles relaxed, shoulders raising slightly as he breathed quietly. He looked pretty like that, innocent even. Innocent in comparison to what occurred in his bed the night before.

As you idly observed him in his peaceful state, you couldn’t help but think about what Peggy had said to you earlier the prior night. She was right, as always. Especially after the night you’d just had with him, there was no way that your feelings for Bucky would just leave along with you leaving after summer. Perhaps sleeping with him was the stupidest decision you’d ever made. Perhaps it would’ve just been easier to not stay the night and pretend like you’d never kissed him in the first place. But you didn’t want that. You wanted him, even if you could only have him for the summer.

A muffled moan jerked your attention away from your thoughts and back to the man laying next to you, who was shifting as he began to wake, the muscles in his back flexing as he did so. It was a sight you could get used to for sure.

Soon enough, his baby blues met yours, a lazy smile overcoming his lips. “Watching me sleep?”

“No.” You denied, though he could see straight through the lie.

He hummed, reaching a hand out to trace over your bruised cheek. You leaned into the touch. “Still hurt?”

“Not really. Had a good doctor fix it up last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, he slept with me afterwards which I thought was a little inappropriate...”

The biker scoffed, enclosing an arm around your bare waist to pull you closer. Sloppy kisses were planted down your jaw to your shoulder, ghosting over the dark bruises he’d marked you with only hours ago.

“I’ll miss you, you know. When you have to leave.” Bucky murmured, pulling away and laying back down against the pillow, his nose grazing yours.

You smiled sadly, pushing some of the hair away from his face. “Do you think this was stupid of us? To start something that’s just gonna have to end in a month?”

“Maybe, yeah,” He mirrored your expression, voice still a little raspy. “But I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither,” You twirled a lock of his hair sigh your pointer finger. “What’re you gonna do without me, huh? You might have to find another girl to take rides with you at sunset.”

Bucky shook his head, squeezing your waist. “Nah, I think I’d rather ride solo. Won’t be the same without you just over my shoulder.”

“Even when I get road rage?”

“Especially when you get road rage.”

“Well, we should probably make the most of the time we have left,” You propped yourself up on one elbow, a smirk playing on your lips. “How about a ride while the sun rises?”

“Sounds perfect.” He loosened his hold on you, letting you roll away from him and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“Mind if I take a shower first?”

“Mind if I take a shower with you?”

You thought for a moment. It’d be saving water, wouldn’t it? “Screw it, why not. C’mon, Buck.”

You scurried off to the bathroom, still naked as Bucky followed after you, suddenly not so tired anymore.

Perhaps the summer hadn’t went in the direction you’d been expecting, but you had no complaints about the turn that it’d taken. You’d never believed in fate or destiny, much like you’d never believed in love. However, you’d like to believe that you were meant to meet Bucky when you came back to Brooklyn at some point. You’d never met someone— someone so perfect for you, if you were being honest. He didn’t scold you for your sarcasm, or shame you for standing up for yourself. He responded to your teasing with his own, he knew how to make you laugh, how to make your cheeks hot and your knees weak. You were always on the exact same wavelength, always knowing how the other was feeling, being able to bring out the best in one another.

It seemed like a waste to spend the little time left at home thinking about summer ending, so you simply pushed it out of your mind. Enjoying the moment was something you’d learned to do over and over again, because that was all you could do in the life that you led.

The moments spent with Bucky Barnes were just going to be a little harder to let go of.

* * *

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@domolovee @oplunket16 @barnestruck @igotkatiepowers

[enamoured-x]

#25 with mr. angel OR ezekiel reyes, i’m leaving that up to you maybe it’s set a couple months after a break up and like the reader ends up going to riz’s birthday party and the reader reveals she is seeing someone blah blah blah CUT TO a somewhat heated argument and reader goes, “you do realise there’s dick and tongue that’s better than yours right? maybe i’ve found it.” NOW- WBK the inner brat creeped out.

I felt like the quote definitely fit better with Angel. Enjoy! (gif not mine)

Warnings: NSFW

Ending things with Angel was for the best. At least that’s what you told yourself when you found yourself thinking about him throughout the days after your breakup. It had been three months since you broke it off with him. It just wasn’t working out. You loved him, you really did. But he kept his secrets and it was weighing heavily on your relationship. You struggled to trust him. The days sucked when you realized he had to go to Mexico for a while and it sucked even more when you heard he had been getting close with some woman over there. You were always keen on communication so you brought it up to him and he assured you nothing was going on. And you believed him. Because you knew Angel loved you. But you didn’t think that love was enough to make you stay and put you through more restless nights and more lies told straight to your face. Club business was one thing but you felt him pulling away. You felt like he wasn’t all in like you were anymore. So you left him. It hurt like hell walking away from him. But you weren’t going to live that way anymore. Things didn’t change, if they did you would’ve made it work but it seemed like Angel didn’t care to make it work anymore. He didn’t let you leave without a fight though. Begging to make it better, begging for you to stay. But you needed him to know you were serious and besides, you had heard that shit before. He would have to learn the hard way. And if this space didn’t open his eyes, then maybe it was just better to be separated. 

Three months. Three months without Angel and it took you two to start seeing someone again. He was a sweet guy and he made you smile. It seemed you had a type, your friends making comments about how you couldn’t stay away from men covered in ink and smooth words falling from their lips. Mike was cool though. You enjoyed spending time with him and the sex was pretty great. You weren’t exactly together but it wasn’t too casual either. But regardless of how happy you felt with him, you couldn’t help but think of how much happier you were with Angel. At least until he started to pull away. But you tried to make it work with Mike. At least you tried. 

You were still very much close to the club. The guys were your best friends and despite your break up with Angel, you still hung out with them and saw them often. Angel wasn’t going to keep you from them. When Coco invited you to Riz’s birthday party at the clubhouse, you said yes without a second thought. You loved Riz and of course you’d be there to celebrate. You debated inviting Mike figuring it wouldn’t hurt to introduce him to your friends. But he had work and you took it as a sign that it was better to just show up solo. Who knew what trouble would stir up if you brought Mike. 

“Hey, birthday boy.” You said to Riz as you walk into the clubhouse and walk over to him. He smiled brightly and pulled you in for a hug. 

“You made it!” He said.

“Of course! And I brought you a present.” You held up the box and he took it from you.

“Thank you, mami. You didn’t have to do that.” You shrugged at his words.

Bishop and Taza pulled you into hugs as they had been standing around with Riz. 

You talked to them for a few moments before making your way over to Coco and Gilly. They greeted you with hugs as well. Angel was talking to Ez by the bar but you could feel his eyes on you. You always made it a point to just ignore him when you visited the clubhouse. Ez walked over to say hi and hand you a beer. You thanked him with a hug and he went back to Angel. 

“So, how’s the boyfriend?” Coco asked and you nearly choked on your beer.

“My what?”

“That man you’ve been seeing. It’s a small town, people talk.” You groaned at Gilly’s words. People needed to mind their own damn business. You realized what this meant. Angel knew about him. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You said and took another sip of your beer. You thought about how you were going to bring him tonight, it definitely wouldn’t have been a surprise to them. 

“So what? You two just fucking?” Coco asked with a smirk. Before you could answer, Angel walked up. 

“Talking about your boy toy?” Angel asked. He had seen better days and you knew you were the reason for that. No, actually he was the reason for that. But he still tried to hide it behind his cocky smirk. 

“So what is he to you?” Gilly asked. As close as you were to them, you knew ultimately their loyalties lied with Angel. And you couldn’t really ever be mad at them for that. 

“He’s… it’s complicated.” You didn’t know why you were entertaining these questions. You can’t believe you were gonna bring him if you simply couldn’t handle mere questions about him. 

“You either fucking him or you ain’t.” Angel said and you couldn’t help but bite back.

“I am.” You couldn’t help yourself. Angel didn’t need to know who you were or were not fucking but he was pissing you off and you wanted to wipe that damn smirk off his face. 

Coco and Gilly seemed to take that as their cue to leave, leaving you with Angel. 

“You’re quick, mami. It’s only been a few months and already you’re giving it up to some other man.” Your jaw clenched at his words. How dare he. 

“Like you haven’t fucked anyone since we broke up.” You countered. 

“I haven’t. Because I fucking love you. And I know you love me, I know one of these days you’re going to come crawling back to me. No one makes you feel like I do.” You were shaking with anger now. 

“You do realize there’s dick and tongue that’s better than yours right? Maybe I’ve found it.” You hated that you reminded yourself that it wasn’t true. No one had made you feel like Angel. Although to you, it was clearly a lie, he was seething. 

“What did you just say?” You knew that voice. The voice he usually used with you when you were testing him and he was close to putting you across his lap. You didn’t know what to do with the fact that you were actually starting to get turned on. 

“You heard me.” You still couldn’t help but be that brat you always were when he got like this. 

“Nah, I don’t think I did. Because I know for a fucking fact no one can make you come like I can.” he was only pissing you off further. For the sole reason that he was right. 

“Mike can, better even.” His stare was murderous now. Before you knew it he was grabbing your wrist and dragging you outside. You didn’t protest, not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone and ruin Riz’s party. You figured you should’ve been having this argument outside anyways. Once you got outside he didn’t stop when you got onto the porch. He dragged you to the side of the house and pushed you against the wall. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You asked as you pushed his chest. 

“My fucking problem is your lies.”

“Oh, that’s fucking rich.” He had no right to talk to you about lying when lying was what drove a wedge between you two. 

“Don’t fucking start with me, mami.” He pointed at you. You slapped his hand away and next thing you knew his hand was around your throat, shoving you back up against the side of the house. Your breath hitched. It had been a long time since his hands were around your throat, you were sure it was your greatest sin to have missed it as much as you did. 

“Don’t. You’re fucking pushing me. As bratty as ever.” His breath fanned your lips. You clenched your thighs. You missed him. You missed him bossing you around and you missed him touching you. You hated that you wanted to give in. 

“You like me bratty.” You argued. You felt yourself slowly slipping back into rhythm with him. 

“I like you fucking listening to me. I like your mouth wrapped around my cock instead of fucking talking back.” 

“Is that what you want, Angel?” Your tone had him squeezing your throat. You bit your lip and let out a little moan. That was enough for Angel to realize he had you where he wanted you.

“Get on your knees.” He released your throat and backed up an inch. And there you were, sliding to your knees for him. 

He cursed under his breath as he quickly undid his pants and got out his cock. He was already hard and ready. 

“Do what you do best.” He said before you started to stroke him and lick his tip. 

“Fuck…” He placed a hand on the wall behind you as he looked down at you. You licked up his length, teasing the tip as you placed open mouthed kisses on him. He grabbed your hair with his other hand and urged you forward. You let him as you finally took him into your mouth. You met his eye as you placed your hands on your thighs. Your signal for him to take what he wanted. 

“Tap if you need me to stop.” Is all he said before he shoved himself down your throat. You gagged but tried to control it as he started thrusting into your mouth. 

“Fuck, mami. Always so good for me.” He groaned. 

You tried to get him closer as you met his thrusts. You moaned around him and his thrusts faltered. 

“I’m gonna come. You gonna swallow for me like a good girl?” He continued using your throat. Spit now collected around your mouth and dripping down your chin. You hummed in response to his question. 

“God, you look so beautiful like this.” He said before he pulled you forward to take him all in as he thrusted deep a few more times before finally coating your throat with his come. You gagged as he finally pulled out. You swallowed. He caught his breath before he tucked himself back in his pants. He then helped you off the ground, your knees aching from the release of pressure on them. He took out his bandana from his back pocket and handed it to you. You wiped your mouth. 

“I’ve missed that mouth.” He said as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip. You stayed quiet, not sure what to say. You gave in to him. You wanted to. And damn did you miss him.

“I don’t have to prove that I can make you come better than he can. Because you know I can. I also don’t have to prove that I can love you better than he can. Because you know that too. But I will prove that I deserve your love. Please come back to me, mami.” You weren’t expecting his words. He cupped your face and you placed your hands over his. Not to move them but to keep them there, to press them further against your skin. 

“Angel…” He didn’t let you talk.

“I know I fucked up but I’ll do everything I can to get you to trust me again. Everything, mi amor. Just give me another chance here.”

“Okay.” He pulled you in for a kiss after the words left your lips. His tongue immediately making its way into your mouth. 

“Never letting you go again.”

And he never did. 

[all1e23]

Pretty Girl

Summary: Bucky finally gets to talk to the girl that’s stolen his heart. 

Warnings:  Nothing really. 

A/N: Flashback to when Bucky properly met his pretty girl for the first time. They’ve known of each other long before this but this is the first time he’s been able to sit and actually talk to her. They are in high school in his flashback, but it’s all very PG besides 15-year-old Bucky smoking I guess? 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

“Clint’s sister?” 

“Yeah.” Steve snorted and passed over the wrench Bucky was reaching for. “You’ve seen her before. She’s been at the clubhouse a few times, and you have classes together.” 

Bucky blew out a puff of smoke and sat up straight on the wooden crate he was working on before rubbing the bud between his fingers out on the bottom of his boot. For the life of him, he couldn’t ever remember meeting Clint’s sister and as far as classes go? He barely pays attention long enough to learn the teacher’s name. Forget some girl that probably sits in the front row taking notes and paying attention.  He’s heard how clint talked about his sister, she’s real smart and wanted to be a nurse one day. She was way out of Bucky’s league and he didn’t even know what she looked like. Bucky couldn’t put a name to her face if his life depended on it, and Steve found this pretty humorous judging by the dumb smirk on his face. 

“I don’t know who you are talking about, man.” 

“Yes, you do. You’re all stupid for her.” 

Bucky frowned even more. Who the hell was Steve talking about? Because no one held his attention long enough for him to be stupid over her. Except... His eyes widened, and he looked up at Steve. 

“Y/n L/n is Clint’s sister? Peggy’s friend? The one I’ve been trying to get Peggy to set me up with for weeks now?” 

“Yep.” 

This was bad. Okay, not bad, but it wasn’t great. Clint was never going to be okay with Bucky dating his sister. Not with his reputation around the club. Steve spun around to face the parking lot and grinned. 

“Oh, look. Here she comes.”

Bucky jumped up, knocking the crate backward and dropping the wrench in his hand. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he would say Steve and Peggy set this whole thing up. 

“Shit,” Bucky muttered just loud enough that Steve caught it. 

Bucky wiped his grease-stained hands on his jeans and grimaced. He probably looked like a lousy biker, nothing more than a kid working on his rap sheet.  He looked longing at his leather on the other side of the garage, he really wished he had kept it on and dealt with the heat. At least he wouldn’t be standing there in a stained white shirt when you looked... fucking gorgeous. 

Even standing next to Peggy Carter, you had his full attention. Peggy was beautiful sure, but she had nothing on you if you asked Bucky. 

Steve stepped forward first and gave you a quick hi before his lips found Peggy’s. You turned around as fast as Steve’s said hello, probably to avoid seeing Steve sucking on Peggy’s face as if he hadn’t seen her in a month. jeans and plain Guns-N-Roses t-shirt. Nothing fancy but Bucky couldn’t look away. You smiled brightly, and Bucky’s heart stuttered. It stalled right there in his chest, and his tools were on the floor at his feet before he could think to stop the tremble in his hands. 

“Hi.” 

Bucky was done for and all you’ve said is hi. That was all it took, and you were holding his heart in your pretty hands, and he was absolutely done for. 

Bucky stared at you, eyes glowing and mouth open. He thought he had said words. He could have sworn he said something, but you were staring at him, bewildered and concerned. Steve’s chuckle cut the silence (Bucky guessed Peggy finally pushed Steve off her), and he patted Bucky on his back. 

“This is Buck. I’m sure Clint has mentioned him a few times.” 

You nodded and smiled at Bucky. “He has, but that’s not why I know who you are.” 

Bucky perked up. That had him curious and excited. You knew who he was. That meant you asked about him around school, or at the very least, you asked Peggy or Clint. 

“Then, how do you know who I am?” 

Everyone, including Bucky, was surprised he finally said something. 

“You’re working your way through every girl in our class. Hard not to hear all the girls whispering about you.” You raised your brow and pursed your lips. “Let’s see this week it was Dot on Monday, Jules was lunch on Wednesday, and Friday night was Sophia. I’m guessing you have a date for tonight, but I’ll have to wait till Monday to hear who. I’m guessing Jessica. She’s been following you around for months now."

Bucky looked back at Steve and Peggy for help, but Peggy was busy trying to get Steve to hold back his laughter. Bucky cringed as he tried to find the right words to make all of that sound less... terrible. 

“Ah, shit.” Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh-- You know--” 

Okay, so he goes on a lot of dates, but that was it. He liked to have fun, and if he had found you sooner, there would have been fewer dates with random girls and more with you, but things didn’t work out that way. He had to play with the hand he was dealt and Bucky wasn’t real great at poker.  

“You know, I heard you’re a smooth talker. A real charmer, but maybe they were talking about someone else.” 

Bucky opens his mouth and still nothing. 

The way you were looking at him completely took his breath away. It was as if you came into the dark and pulled him back into the light, and he never wanted to covered in blackness again. He wanted to stay with you in the sun, where only you and your innocence exists -- someplace the club and his father couldn’t find him. 

Before Bucky could think of something to say, Peggy was hooking her arm in yours, dragging you away. If he didn’t say something soon, he was going to miss his chance. Bucky couldn’t screw this up, not after he’s been trying to earn your attention for weeks.

Weeks. 

He wanted to say something, but he was speechless. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would keep you from walking away from him. Unless... 

“Hey, pretty girl?” 

You stopped and slowly spun on your toes to look at him, flustered and off-balance. Bucky smiled. So, you liked it when he called you that. Bucky could work with you, and you could bluster all you want, but you were affected by him, too. 

“For the record, I don’t have a date tonight. I’m not interested in dating anyone, but you. 

He saw something dark and good flicker in your eyes but lifted your chin defiantly and shook your head. After all the stories you heard from Peggy and Steve, you liked Bucky, maybe not in a romantic way -- not yet, perhaps not ever, but one thing you knew for sure you couldn’t be just another night out. If you gave him a chance, you would see you were never going to be only one night. 

You were his forever. He knew it the moment he saw you.

“Sorry. Having dinner with my brother tonight.” 

Bucky’s smirk grew at your lie. You weren’t having dinner with Clint tonight. They had Chapel, and everyone had to be there, even patch-ins. It was likely you didn’t know that, though. Bucky would let you have this. You were scared. So was he. This might not be the right time, and he might not have the right words, but as far as Bucky was concerned, he was already yours. 

“That’s alright, pretty girl. I can wait as long as it takes.”