#but at his worst he is cold and dangerous

[thenickgirl]

TAKE IT OUT ON ME

bf!nick x male!reader

summary: in which Nick takes his frustrations out on reader

type: fic ✩ genre: smut ✩ pov: reader’s ✩ word count: 2.1K

warnings: use of y/n, use of 👀…the d word, swearing, oral and anal sex, degradation, hair pulling, rimming, fingering, spitting, edging if you squint, choking, slapping (DNI if you’re uncomfortable), top!nick x bottom!reader

a/n: good evening, whores (affectionate)! saurrr if you know me, then you know that i’m a bottom nick stan for life. the simple thought of him riding a nice big dick is what brings me joy every day lmao. that being said, top nick is so foreign to me, but i wanted to take a risk for all my nick boys that i love so much. i have to give a huge shoutout to queen ki, @nickssidewitch, she knows why 😉. y’all this fr had me clenching my thighs so tight, god men are so fucking lucky ffs. i’m so nervous about this, i really hope you all enjoy it. i’ll be having a very cold shower now, byeeee 👋🏾. happy reading! ✩

‘Sometimes I don’t mind you

havin’ the worst day’

“Fucking BITCH!” You hear Nick yell from upstairs as you enter your home, along with things being slammed on the floor. You sigh, leaving your shoes by the door, before coming up the steps. You place your bag down on the couch as you make your way to the bedroom. You stood by the door, leaning your shoulder against the frame, watching him.

Nick was swearing under his breath, picking up the items he’d thrown across the room, not even noticing your presence. You take in his appearance; his shirt almost cropped from how small it was, his hair completely disheveled from tugging at it in frustration, the way his tattooed arms flexed as he clenched his fists, all while his blue fresh love sweats hung dangerously low on his hips. You bit your lip, the sight of him turning you on so much, you could feel yourself growing harder by the second as your eyes continue to scan his body.

“What are you looking at?” he gripes, snapping you out of your apparent trance. His piercing blue eyes lock with yours, eyebrows furrowing, and suddenly you feel a warmth in your cheeks.

“H-Huh?” you stutter in defeat, unable to form a full sentence at that moment.

“Are you deaf?” he replies sternly, stepping closer to you.

“Bad day, huh?” you ask nervously, biting the inside of your cheek, not really wanting to set him off more than he already is.

“Something like that,” he starts, rubbing his eyes before pacing the floor in front of me.

“There’s no fucking audio on the video, and we have nothing else to post for tomorrow. I have to decide on the new flavors for the next drop, but I don't like any of them, and I can’t think of any new ones for the life of me. I can’t find either of my fucking glasses, and you know I can’t see for shit. I’m so frustrated, I don’t know what to do” he lets out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

You honestly felt bad for the brunette man in front of you, he’s overworked and certainly under appreciated. Yet, you couldn’t help finding him so god damn sexy in this disgruntled state. You open your mouth to speak before closing it, biting on your lip as you think of what you’re about to say next. You wanted nothing more than to be supportive, but all you could think about right now was being under him.

“I’m so sorry, baby, that sounds like an awful day,” you pout, pulling him closer by the waistband of his sweats.

“Why don’t you let out some of that frustration on me, hm?” you grin, looking up at him with lust in your eyes.

Nick licks his lips as his eyes darken at your proposition, “Oh yeah, gonna let me take it out on you, pretty boy? Be my little fucktoy tonight?” he smirks, grabbing you by the waist, your bodies flushed against each other, and you gasp. You can feel how hard he’s getting already.

“Use me however you want,” you offer, a submissive smile playing on your lips.

“Such an eager little slut for me, I think I'll take you up on that offer,” his voice dripped with lust.

He leans down, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “On your knees. Now.” He commands, and you drop to your knees without hesitation.

“So pretty, but…” he trails off, running his thumb across your bottom lip, and you wrap your lips around it, sucking gently, “You’ll look even better when you’re gagging on this dick,” he continues, smirking.

He pulls his thumb away with a pop, before hooking his fingers inside the waistband of his sweats, pulling them and his underwear off in one swift motion. His hard cock springs free, and you let out a stifled moan, your mouth watering at the sight of it. It was so big, you became lost in thought, you could hardly wait to have it buried inside you.

“It’s not polite to stare, you know,” he says, before grabbing a fistful of your hair, pushing your face towards his length.

“Suck it, and don’t even fucking think about teasing, or you’ll regret it” he threatens, as you reach to grab his cock in your hand, but it gets smacked away.

“No hands,” he demands, and you nod, looking up at him before taking him in your mouth.

He groans at the warm feeling of your mouth around him. You began moving your head back and forth, sucking hard on his shaft. “Shit,” he moans, biting hard on his bottom lip, and your eyes locked with his. The way he was reacting to you made your cock twitch. He pushes your head down further, and you relax your throat. He bucks his hips, his fist still tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat.

“God, I love your fucking mouth,” Nick moans, as he continues. You start to gag around him, and his body trembles at the sound. He can feel his release starting to build.

“Not yet,” he says, as he pulls you off of him. You gasp, inhaling deeply, as you finally catch your breath.

He helps you up, grabbing you by the waist before crashing his lips against yours. He grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it up, and you break the kiss to help him pull it off. He removes his own shirt quickly, and before you knew it, your back was being pressed against the mattress, as his broad frame hovered over you. He starts kissing your neck, sucking, and biting at your skin. His tongue smoothing over each mark he creates, and you whine.

“Nick…” you moan softly, squirming beneath him.

“So fucking needy,” he chuckles. He kisses along your chest, his warm tongue flicking one of your nipples as he rolls the other in between his fingers. You moan, your back arching into his touch. His lips trail down to your abdomen, leaving wet kisses until he reaches the waistband of your pants. He palms you through your jeans, before undoing them, pulling them down along with your boxers. You lift your hips to help him take them off, and your cock springs free.

“This all for me?” Nick teases.

He flips you over onto your stomach, grabbing you by the hips, and lifting you up onto your knees so you’re bent over in front of him, and he lets out a low groan. He smacks your ass, then squeezes it, and you let out a soft moan.

“Please…” you whimper, pushing your ass against him.

“Begging will get you everywhere, darling,” Nick says smirking, as his large hands spread your cheeks. He leans down, licking a strip from your balls to your hole, and you gasp at feeling. His tongue laps at your entrance, his hands rubbing, and massaging your ass cheeks.

“Mmph fuck,” you moan, biting hard on your lip. His tongue draws circles around your hole, before sliding in. “Ohh my god,” you moan out, your back arching even more as you bury your face in the sheets. He continues to eat you out, licking and sucking at your hole, his tongue darting in and out rapidly.

He pulls back after a few minutes, smacking your ass once more before reaching over towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube. He squeezes some out on his fingers, then applies it. He slides one finger inside you, pumping in and out slowly. His aching cock throbs at the squelching sound. He slides in another, this time pumping faster, and you moan, pushing back against his hand.

“You’re so fucking pathetic,” He teases, smacking your ass again before sliding in a third finger. He pumps his digits in and out, spreading them every so often, stretching you, as you moan over and over.

“I need you so bad, daddy, please…” you whine desperately, sending chills down his spine, and he groans. He pulls his fingers from you, before lining himself at your entrance. Before you can even say another word, he slams his length into you. Not even giving you time to adjust, his hips snap against you at a steady pace.

“So tight,” he whispers, both hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you. Your moans fill the room as your fingers tangle in the sheets. He starts fucking you harder, grabbing you by your hair, pulling it as he pounds into you over and over.

“God, y/n, you feel fucking amazing,” he moans, as he continues to drill into you. The head of his cock repeatedly hits your prostate, and your body shudders. You reach down, taking your length in your hand, stroking it. The pleasure intensifies as you teeter closer to the edge.

“Ohh fuck, I’m so close,” you pant, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, and suddenly he pulls out. You open your mouth to protest, until you’re being flipped onto your back once again, and you gasp at the sudden change in position.

“I wanna see your face when you cum for me,” he says, before slamming into you again. Taking one of your legs, and placing it over his shoulder, giving him deeper access. You moan, as he gains a steady rhythm. His fingers play with your nipples, the immense pleasure making your back arch into his touch.

“Nick Nick Nick,” you moan his name over and over, as he fucks you senseless.

“That’s it, baby,” he smirks, “You’re taking me so well, like a good little slut,” he praises, degradingly. He trails one of his hands to your throat, squeezing lightly as he deepens his strokes.

“Nghhh fuck, it feels so good,” you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets once again.

“You love it when I get angry, don’t you? It turns you on to see me so frustrated? ‘Cause you know you’ll get fucked like this?” Nick asks, his hand still wrapped around your throat, as he’s balls deep inside you. You whimper in response, his length hitting your sweet spot so perfectly, making your brain foggy.

“Aw, so drunk on my cock he can’t speak,” he starts, “Answer me.” He demands, as the palm of his hand connects with your cheek, and you let out a small gasp, biting hard on your lip from how aroused it made you.

“Y-yes, it turns me on s-so much, daddy. Love when you f-fuck me like this,” you whimper, looking at him, your eyes locking with his. You open your mouth, your tongue sticking out, and he spits in it. You moan, swallowing it down, and a lustful growl escapes his lips.

“Fuck, you drive me insane,” he groans, taking your leg down from his shoulder before he leans in, kissing you hungrily. You moan in between the kiss, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck, sucking at your skin, as hips continue to snap against you, each thrust deeper than the last.

“Mm fuck, don’t stop. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you let out a desperate whimper, your eyes rolling back, as he continues his movements, picking up his pace. You feel your release start to build again, your body trembling.

“You’re shaking, baby. You gonna cum for me?” Nick whispered in your ear, before biting it.

“Y-Yes, I’m so close,” you moan, the knot in your stomach seconds from coming undone.

“I don’t remember you asking,” he teases, slowing down his pace, and you whine, your hips bucking up trying to gain more friction.

“I need to cum so bad, please. Please, I wanna cum for you,” you plead, rolling your hips against him. He takes his hand, and wraps it around your throbbing cock, stroking slowly.

“Make a mess, baby,” he encourages, his hand moving rapidly on your cock, as he starts to thrust into you again.

“Ohh, oh fuck,” you let out a stifled moan, as you cum all over your abdomen. Nick continues to fuck you through your orgasm, as he chases his own.

“Shit y/n,” he moans your name, his body stuttering as he cums inside you.

He collapses on top of you, panting, and you chuckle, running your fingers through his now damp hair. He pecks at your shoulder softly, before pulling out, and rolling off of you. Instinctively, he pulls you to his side, and you rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you, baby, for ‘helping’ me out,” he jokes, his fingers doing air quotes, before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m always happy to help. Especially, if it’s gonna turn out that good,” you tease, and you both laugh.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” he suggests, before sitting up, and getting out of bed.

“And can you pleaseee help find my glasses?” he asks, helping you out of bed, and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Babe, they’re on the living room table,” you say, giggling.

Nick’s eyes widened, “WHAT?!”

—

✎ signed,

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ✩

a/n: ahhhh! i hope you enjoyed this. it was such a challenge for me, i’d been working on it for literal months, not kidding. saurrr, it’ll probably be a minute before top!nick makes another appearance, hope this helps! 💋

dividers by: @/cafekitsune @/adornedwithlight

[faithshouseofchaos]

Catch me if I fall— jack Hughes x reader

Word count— 816

Fluff

Tagged — @toasttt11 (your my only hockey moot)

The ice rink spread out in front of you like a glittering expanse of danger. You sat on the bench, your legs bouncing nervously as you adjusted your skates for the tenth time. Jack was already on the ice, skating circles like it was second nature, which, of course, it was for him. He made it look so easy—gliding, spinning, even stopping with that smooth little spray of ice. Meanwhile, you couldn’t even stand up without wobbling like a baby deer.

“Are you planning on sitting there all day?” Jack called out, his voice carrying across the rink. He skated closer, stopping in front of you with the kind of control that made you want to simultaneously swoon and roll your eyes.

“I’m thinking about it,” you said, crossing your arms.

Jack grinned, leaning his elbows on the boards. “Come on, it’s not that bad. You’ll be fine.”

“You say that because you’ve been skating since you could walk,” you shot back. “Some of us weren’t raised on frozen ponds, you know.”

“Excuses, excuses,” he teased. “You’ve got this. I’m literally right here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could fall. I could break something. I could fall and break something.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “First of all, you’re not gonna fall. And second, if you do, I’ll catch you. Third, the only thing you’re gonna break is my heart if you don’t try.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t stick. “That was terrible.”

“But effective,” he said, holding out his gloved hand. “Come on. One lap. I promise, if you hate it, I won’t bug you about it again.”

You stared at his hand like it was a lifeline—and maybe it was. With a resigned sigh, you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. The second your skates touched the ice, your legs wobbled alarmingly.

“Jack—”

“I’ve got you,” he said quickly, stepping in close and steadying you with his hands on your waist. “You’re not gonna fall. Just bend your knees a little. That’s it. Keep your weight forward.”

You clung to him like a lifeline, your fingers gripping his forearms as you shuffled forward. “If I die, I’m haunting you forever.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin wide and teasing. “But you’re not gonna die. You’re already doing great.”

“Liar,” you muttered, but a tiny laugh slipped out despite yourself.

Jack started skating backward, pulling you along slowly. His hands stayed on yours, his grip firm and reassuring. “Okay, now push off with one foot, then the other. Like you’re walking. You don’t have to go fast.”

You hesitated but did as he said, your movements tentative at first. To your surprise, it didn’t feel as impossible as you’d thought. The glide of the skates was smoother than you expected, and Jack’s steady presence made you feel just a little braver.

“See?” he said, his voice full of pride. “You’re doing it!”

“I’m barely moving,” you pointed out, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“It counts,” he said firmly. “Baby steps.”

After a few minutes, you started to find a rhythm, your strides becoming a little more confident. Jack let go of one of your hands, skating beside you with an easy grace that made you want to glare at him.

“Why are you so good at this?” you asked, half-joking, half-exasperated.

He shrugged, smirking. “Years of practice. Natural talent. Superior genetics.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Jack laughed, and before you could react, he reached over and poked your side, making you yelp. “Hey! Hands on the ice, not me!”

“Just testing your balance,” he said innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.

“Do that again, and I’ll—”

“Fall right into my arms?” he interrupted, grinning.

You groaned, your cheeks heating despite the cold. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, here you are,” he said, his voice softening just a bit. “Trusting me not to let you fall.”

You glanced at him, and for a moment, the teasing melted away. His gaze was warm and steady, the kind of look that made you feel like maybe you really could do this.

“I guess you’re not completely the worst,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.

“High praise,” he said, grinning again.

By the end of the lap, you were gliding more than shuffling, and Jack looked like he might burst with pride.

“You’re a natural,” he said as you stopped near the boards, your legs a little shaky but your heart light.

“Let’s not get carried away,” you said, laughing. “But… it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

“Told you,” he said, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. And as Jack skated beside you, his hand brushing yours every so often, you thought maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this.

[phantomyre]

The night wore on, and as the two made there way up the mountains through the snow, morning had begun to break, eventually casting a light glow over the land. However, it didn't give off its usual warmth. Even the sun's warmth was in competition with the impending terror that was wading through the snow and towards the Whirling Maze. Even the planet itself seemed to tremble the closer Sephiroth and Vincent approached their destination. It seemed all but certain the planet would meet its demise. Vincent could feel the planet's pulse grow stronger, tugging at his chest as if begging him not to move further. But if he were to spare the lives of those he cared about, he had no choice but to follow the planet's most feared enemy, knowing he was also now an accomplice.

All the while, neither of them spoke a word even though both were hyper aware of one another's presence. One was tirelessly hastening towards his goal with reckless abandon, while the other was feeling the weight of every footstep getting heavier, and more blood stained the closer their destination became. Vincent's mind was trying to puzzle the pieces together, contemplating what all would befall Cloud and the others once they did meet up.

No matter how one could spin it, the fact that Vincent was now serving as a protector of Cloud's and the planet's worst enemy, not to mention his friend's murderer... it spelled betrayal on a level that would have put Cait Sith aka Reeve to shame. If the entire party turned against him, so be it. Perhaps it would be better in the long run for their sake. Vincent had sworn to never get close to anyone again. But here he was worrying about the bond he had with his friends, especially Cloud-- the fragility of life, friendship, and forgiveness. If things went exactly the way Sephiroth and Jenova intended, Vincent would lose them all, including Lucrecia. Even if they managed to defeat Sephiroth and Jenova, the planet was already on the verge of death. Sephiroth was merely enabling and hastening the inevitable. And once the planet had had enough, he would still be left alone, and Lucrecia's spirit would be lost to the abyss along with every other soul Vincent had ever cared about. So why was he going through with this...?

At this time, the snow had all but vanished, being exchanged for some more harsh winds that threatened to cast off any and all over the depths of the canyon. No sane individual would cross such a dangerous path. The essence of death was growing stronger from within the caverns of the Maze, indicating to Vincent that several had made this place their resting place. He could already tell it would soon become a tomb for countless hooded figures, should they dare to venture further in pursuit of Sephiroth.

Vincent's thoughts were diverted once he heard Sephiroth's voice, guiding his attention to the large edifices and winding path before them. Though he had never ventured into this place before, Sephiroth’s words told him everything he needed to know when it came to how close their destination was. The sinking feeling was more keen than ever.

Vincent watched as Sephiroth turned towards him, crimson and mako colors clashing in a brief moment of mild confusion. The question wasn't exactly surprising. But the genuine curiosity got Vincent's attention more than the question itself. Why did Sephiroth care? Was this just a ploy to pull out any weakness from the gunslinger? Or was Sephiroth actually curious about what made Vincent a sympathizer instead of a cold-blooded murderer?

For a moment, Vincent stared at Sephiroth, a hint of surprise in his eyes before he decided to answer. "Not all who bear the mark of Shinra are mindless killers. Humans aren't that simple." Vincent began, looking off the side to look at the canyons around them, or perhaps he was sparing himself Sephiroth's gaze. "Sometimes... they don't have a choice when it comes to committing atrocities. Just like when you didn't have a choice to become what you are today." Perhaps Sephiroth could understand that much, but even then, Vincent knew it would have been ludicrace to hope for Sephiroth to have any sympathy for humans at this point.

"If I didn't spare them, then it would be easier to take the lives of many more." In essence, he would become numb to killing. He furrowed his brow and shut his eyes for a moment, keeping some thoughts to himself, the wind tossing his hair and cloak in a chilling breeze.

A moment later, he lifted his head and allowed their eyes to join once again, a slight hint of determination in his gaze. "...and should I fail to quell the beast inside, I would become no different... than you."

Gunshots range through the snowy hills, the winds doing little to muffle the sounds. Sparks of gunfire tore through the air from both sides, indicators of where each opponent was located. Vincent drove the helicopter as far as he could until they began to become more aggressive-- ensuring Vincent was preoccupied in distracting them while also attempting to not allow them to injure him. He would have to get out of here unscathed as he knew his being wounded would only slow Sephiroth down. Even if that was exactly what Vincent would have preferred, he knew he couldn’t wield those cards just yet. Who knew when he would ever have the chance. But now wasn't the time. He had to continue play his part without giving Sephiroth reason to doubt him.

Darting one bullet and the next, Vincent managed to outmaneuver the attacks, a flurry of snow billowing around him, causing visibility to become challenged. When that happened, Vincent relied on his enhanced senses to detect where the bullets were coming from. It was a blur of crimson against white. At one point, Vincent shot at the back of the helicopter and hit one of the wings, causing the machine to wobble and become imbalanced. This allowed him to avoid the shotguns more easily. The way the shots were being fired caused the ex-Turk to smirk. This new recruit at least had spunk, but seemed all too focused on violence and less about technique. He doubted her mentor was pleased with her current performance. Judging by the silhouettes’ movements within the cabin, his assumptions seemed to be correct. “Elena, focus!” Tseng commanded after the back of the helicopter was hit. “He’s toying with us. Best we pull back and look for Sephiroth instead.” “Smug-ass ex-Turk!” Elena yelled at the blur of crimson firing at them.  “I’ll show—AAAAH!” A terrifying flash of light blinded the Turks, followed immediately by a powerful surge of energy and heat. Control was lost, and helicopter began to tumble to its fate. Dismay riddled Vincent’s eyes as he watched the flames engulf part of the helicopter, having witnessed the power that lit the entire sky. He knew exactly who had done it, as well. Vincent could only watch as the machine fell into the gaping bit of mountain below as he ran to the ledge, unable to do anything to stop it. A loud explosion was heard, and the massive plume of smoke ascended from below. Raven colored brows furrowed in silence, the sparks of fire carrying up by the winds. Turks always found ways to escape some of the tightest situations. Likely they attempted to jump before the landing, but smoke, fire, and snow made it impossible for him to see anything. He could only hope they survived. Otherwise, their blood would be on his head. Loosening his grip on his gun, he slowly replaced it back into his holster, turning in the direction where he had left Sephiroth. Strangely enough, he didn’t sense death down below. He sensed pain, but death was far removed for the time being. Perhaps they were alright after all. Taking one last look at the building smoke, he turned back and headed in the direction that Sephiroth had walked, having a sense as to the direction Sephiroth took.

At first, his steps were slow, knowing they had to continue on their journey as there would likely be reinforcements. The helicopter going off line would surely alert the other Turks, and they would once again be chased down. He couldn’t waste anymore time, even if it meant meeting Cloud’s team sooner. Resolved, Vincent picked up the pace and fought against the wind, following the faint sense of darkness that was akin to his own. In a matter of minutes, he caught sight of Sephiroth’s tall dark figure, his hair betraying his identity in the most melancholy of ways—an angel, born as a monster, compelled by the voice of an alien who didn’t give one thought to his existence, other than to use him.

For a few moments, Vincent simply watched as Sephiroth walked on, hellbent on his destination. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, the steam quickly being taken away by the wind.

The long brutal march had once again resumed just as the skies began to signal the crack of dawn.  

[ponyosmom35]

better off

simon ghost riley x reader

synopsis: simon and soap discuss their plan to keep reader safe from their enemies.

Link to master list:https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

Soap set down the phone and looked at Simon, his expression a mix of exasperation and sadness. "Happy now?" he asked, his tone sharp but edged with concern.

Simon didn't respond immediately. He stood still, his face as unreadable as ever. His fingers flexed at his sides as if trying to find something to hold on to. After a moment, he let out a slow, deliberate breath and looked up.

"Yeah," Simon said, his voice flat. "I'm ecstatic."

Soap shook his head, pacing the room. "I don't understand why you can't just go home, get her out of there, and put her somewhere safe while we finish this."

Simon's jaw tightened, his eyes darting to the floor as if it held all the answers. "It's not that simple, Soap. If they catch even a whisper of me going near her, they'll know. And if they know, she's dead." His voice was strained, as though each word was a weight he could barely carry. "Right now, the safest thing for her is to think I'm gone."

Soap stopped pacing, turning to face him. "So what's your plan, then? Once she gets here, we just pick her up and take her to the safehouse? She's gonna freak out, Simon. And when she finds out you're alive, she's gonna bloody kill all of us. She'll never forgive you."

Simon's shoulders sagged slightly, the faintest crack in his stoic demeanor. "I know," he said, his voice quiet. "I know." He exhaled sharply, straightening his posture as if to shake off the weight of his admission. "But what choice do we have, Johnny? It's her life or mine. And I'll be damned if I let her die because of me."

Soap crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. "So, you think sending her on a 'vacation' is safer? Mate, this is fifty shades of fucked up."

Simon's eyes narrowed, his tone cutting. "Watch it, mate. I know it's not a perfect plan. But it's the best I've got right now. As long as she's in the dark and keeps moving, she's safe."

"And if Makarov gets wind she's in the country?" Soap's voice dropped, the gravity of the situation pressing between them.

Simon's voice dropped even lower, cold and dangerous. "If Makarov spots her, I'll bring her in myself. And I'll rip apart every bastard in his crew before I let him touch her."

The finality in Simon's tone ended the conversation. Without another word, he walked to his room, the door closing behind him with a resounding thud. He leaned against the wall, his head hanging low. The weight of it all—her absence, her safety, the lie he was forcing her to live—crushed him.

He clenched his fists, the guilt and desperation bubbling to the surface. With a sharp exhale, he slammed his fist into the wall, the pain radiating through his knuckles barely a fraction of what he felt inside. He stood there, breathing heavily, trying to push it all back down.

He missed her more than he thought possible. Every second apart felt like a fresh wound, a new reminder of what he'd given up to keep her alive.

Later that night, sleep found him, but it offered no relief. His dreams turned into a nightmare—her, standing in front of him, her eyes wide with fear. Makarov's men surrounded her, guns raised. Simon tried to move, to grab her, but he was frozen, powerless as the worst unfolded before his eyes. The gunshot rang out, and her body crumpled to the ground.

He woke with a start, gasping for air, his chest heaving as sweat soaked through his shirt. He pressed his hands to his face, the image of her lifeless body burned into his mind.

The rest of the night passed in restless silence. By dawn, Simon was in the gym, punishing his body in a futile attempt to quiet his mind. When his muscles screamed for mercy, he retreated to his office, staring at the live feed from the security camera outside her house.

The sight of her home brought him no comfort. He told himself it was to ensure she was safe, but deep down, he knew it was because he couldn't go a day without feeling connected to her.

As he watched the screen, he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the hum of the equipment. "I'll fix this. I'll make it right. And then… I'll stay out of her life for good."

But even as he said the words, the thought of never seeing her again felt like the cruelest punishment of all.

[stoutguts]

My own personal Hybrid AU??? (Also, Omegaverse). Chock full of my own personal headcanons and ideas. Unorganized/kind of rambling, really just trying to put all my thoughts to paper.

PART 3

(wish I could include everything I wrote in one post, but I yapped too much—)

Ghost is quite aggressive and brooding, the recruits fear it, find it scary or unapproachable. The deadliest and most dangerous man in the entire SAS,—no doubt. Downright cynical and impulsive, at worst. This inherent hostility and him always being on guard, this suspiciousness and unease around strangers, was not only born from his traumatic past and childhood,—but inherited from the inner mechanisms of his father’s wild nature,—he’s part wolf after all. Despite that though, the Great Pyrenees in them is just as strong,—(something of their mother’s gentle spirit lives on in them),—affectionate. A total softie, and open-minded. Amicable even, at best. Caring,—to those it trusts with all the broken and mangled pieces of its heart that is. His temperament is truly something special. Truly the definition of hot and cold. 50% wolf, 50% Great Pyrenees, an even 50/50 split between their genes,—according to a DNA test. Unforeseeable, that’s why they’re called “Ghost” (apart from their ghost-like appearance). The 1-4-1 likens it’s personality to that of a cat more than a dog. Although, he excels at just about anything and everything. It can go loud and cause a real ruckus of gunfire and bloodshed, or it can be as quiet as a mouse and strike its unsuspecting prey like a snake. Whether it’s a more “laidback” kind of mission, or he’s fighting for his life, it doesn’t matter,—his sheer adaptability and resolve for survival is enough to bring him out the other side somehow. Its specialities are simultaneously stealth missions and guerrilla warfare. Also, fantastic with knives and is a phenomenal sniper (having unusually good/superb eyesight, which makes for almost perfect aim). Probably the most efficient at getting the job done in the entirety of the 1-4-1,—a damn machine. A grim reaper of sorts. Though somehow he isn’t entirely monstrous. Unfortunately though, their feral side likes to come out more often than not, especially in one particular form.—They become just about unbearable to be around when they get their period, or when their heat comes (as they refuse to take suppressants because it “makes them feel weird”, and that it fucks with their already fucked up hormones). Snapping at every little thing and at everyone,—it becomes essentially impossible to work with it. Not to mention, his mood and temper sometimes gets to be so bad,—that it tends to affect how he performs at his job. If it weren’t (or if it isn’t) for Johnny taking care of them and helping to soothe their nerves, or fucking them colorblind and breeding them until they can’t walk,—they’d probably end up discharged for such insubordination. Leave is practically always mandatory. The worst part is that since Simon sustained an injury to his mating gland, his heat cycles are unpredictable and often random. It’s periods are also a bitch and a half. Though still both are nothing that Johnny can’t handle. Also on the bright side, periods for them are very rare and infrequent, as they regularly take testosterone. Like Soap, Ghost has some extra, pent up energy from time to time, due to the livestock guardian dog in him. Though it’s much more manageable, and not nearly as bad. They’ll sometimes join Johnny in his little escapades around base, racing him in their doggy form. It’ll always gladly join him in working out, and to help to herd their cattle that they’ve got back home. Incredibly protective and loyal as well, as all dogs with herding blood in them are. It also has a very strong hunting instinct, and prefers to catch and eat it’s prey rather than waiting in line at the butcher. They’ll go after and stalk deer or rabbits hiding out in the woodland surrounding their farm. It also has accidentally killed or injured some of it and Soap’s livestock in the past, as it loses control of it’s instincts from time to time. If there is one thing Johnny doesn’t like about his partner, it’s that. He’s always pissed naturally when this happens, because he’s a tried a true herding dog.

Whenever an incident like this happens, he feels like he’s failed at his job, which is to protect their cattle. Simon feeling extremely guilty, and more than happy to repent (in perhaps a kinky way). Despite being an omega, he definitely rivals Soap in terms of strength, and in terms of size,—he’s built like a damn truck. His canine form is huge (bigger than Johnny, though not as big as Yuri), but compact, noticeably bigger the typical size of his species. Pure muscle permeates their entire body, rippling through their fur and bulging from their skin, (perks of having wolf genes, unlike the cons). It’s undoubtedly the most terrifying and intimidating member of the 1-4-1. His bark and growling is also akin to something of a hell hound. A growl so low and deep, you can practically feel the vibrations, and the menacing energy coming off of it. And a bark that is almost deafening, with nothing but pure unbridled resentment and fury in it.

Yuri doesn’t really cause (at least too many) problems. He’s mostly unassuming. Apart from the occasional butting heads with everyone, but especially Soap,—nothing too bad. (Spats are mostly brought on because of his own arrogance and narcissistic tendencies. Though he’s got a particular sore spot for insubordination of any kind, or arguing against orders too, a real stuck up when it comes to the rules and how to do things. Similar to Price in that vein, but even worse. Bossy, even when it’s not his place to be. A hypocrite, because he’s unintentionally insubordinate himself, (at least from time to time). Stubborn as hell too, (sometimes even worse than Johnny). Though he’s a damn good soldier, and steps up to the plate when you need him. Very fast and mobile,—at least, out speeding Simon and Soap. He’s also got the best sniffer in the 1-4-1, which can prove to be incredibly useful in certain instances. (He’s a good man in all honesty, even though he has his shortcomings, (though who doesn’t). He’s got a good heart and moral compass. Values his friends greatly. Good character and can be fun to be around, but equally can bore you to death, and tends to keep to himself. He likes to keep things professional most of the time. Truly a no nonsense type of guy. His dark humor doesn’t go over too well sometimes, but he’s able to crack some more wholesome jokes too. One little quirk of his though is that he’s much more open and welcoming, when he’s under the influence and/or drunk. Most of what the 1-4-1 knows about Yuri, and how they’ve gotten closer to him, is by getting him wasted or as high as a kite. (His negative traits are half to do with his breed as well). But really, the only real problem is,—he’s fucking huge. And he doesn’t know he is either. He ends up unintentionally hurting or injuring other people due to the lack of awareness of his size. It’s in his genes to be massive, more so taking after the/having Great Dane in him and all. He’s only about 5’10 or 11 and weighs around 175 pounds in “human” form, but grows to be around 5’2 at shoulder, 6’4 on two legs, and weighs a staggering 275 pounds when in doggy form. Easily 2 maybe even 3x bigger than the typical size of his breed, and especially a normal dog. He’s even bigger than Johnny and Ghost (in canine form at least), which is nothing to sneeze at, considering he’s only a beta. This wouldn’t be a problem, if it weren’t for the fact he has trouble controlling his shifting. This causes a wide variety issues, but mostly ends up getting them comprised on stealth missions, or when they're trying not to alert the enemy. That, and when Yuri shifts sometimes he can't shift back out of his doggy form, and is occasionally stuck like that for the rest of a mission. It's not that Yuri can't pull his own weight and take out enemy soldiers like that, because he most certainly can, and does it with extreme ease. But, he becomes useless in certain situations, because he's unable to return fire or use a gun. Nor can he just charge out with reckless abandon when there's bullets coming from every direction—He lacks armor or any real protection in his canine form after all. It’s just idiotic to put yourself in danger, and potentially get yourself killed like that. Though despite everything, needless to say, Yuri is one of the 1-4-1’s biggest assets. The team wouldn’t be complete without him, even though he can be a real headache and a mountain of paperwork sometimes. Despite his impressive stature, his cold and calculating demeanor, his formidability,—he’s not all too scary. Despite being such a large dog, he’s higher pitched. His bark is ear-piercing, while his growl is about as intimidating as a Chihuahua’s. The 1-4-1 make fun of him for it all the time, much to his chagrin.

TBC—

[waitineedaname]

when im writing them, i often find myself thinking about the difference between jiang cheng and wei wuxian's anger. im not sure how to put it into words, but the way they both express anger is so interesting to me bc like... for jiang cheng, it tends to be his first response. he's confronted with something unpleasant and the safest response is to be angry and lash out, because then that protects the vulnerability hidden beneath whatever has upset him. his anger tends to be explosive, with shouting and violence, until eventually it ebbs away and the vulnerable emotion underneath is revealed. wei wuxian, however, tends to let it simmer until it eventually boils over. I think about the confrontation with jin zixun about the wens a lot, and how you can see him trying to keep a lid on the anger at first, and how that makes him cold and sharp (which is made all the more striking by how warm he is under better circumstances) until finally he can't keep a lid on it anymore and the anger boils over, which is the point at which you should probably aim to leave his general vicinity because an angry wei wuxian is very, very scary

[inhcritance]

Harry was more certain, every minute that went by, that he was already late for grabbing the best books on wolf body language he could find and start studying even more. Not so much because Peter was being cryptic, but because Harry wished he understood more: not long ago, all he'd needed to understand was the difference between threat and lack thereof. Between a werewolf that was about to attack, and one that hadn't noticed him.

Now he saw so much more, and as much as Peter was clear enough in his meaning, Harry kept wishing he could make it easier for them both. Maybe next time, if there was a next time that hopefully didn't involve injuries.

The lick to his arm was, however, a strange, almost amusing sensation: not as rough as Faustus' tongue, and clear-ish in its reassurance, and Harry could not resist the instinct to reach towards Peter's canine head and offer a brief scratch to his ears, now that his fear was gone and all that was left was the communication issues and one large shifted werewolf that was easily proving the truth of his previous words: he wasn't dangerous if he didn't have to be.

He was also clear enough, in some meanings: Harry nodded, when he saw the way he reacted to the offer of opening the balcony.

And truly, the balcony was a nice place to be in, Harry had spent so much time reading there when the weather was nice, so it was the least he could offer. Even if it might be a bit too cold for him... which was, he supposed, after a small nod at Peter's nudge and the lack of any woofing, something that was solved with warm tea and a blanket, because he did feel bad about leaving Peter to enjoy the fresh air alone.

And as much as Harry often did try his best to be inside during the Full Moon, because all the voices in the sky were a reminder of everything that lurked in the night, sometimes he hadn't been able to. Sometimes some searches couldn't wait, and Harry could not help his disquiet at the sounds he heard.

It was certainly not the first disquiet he faced that night, and he did feel safe there, being home and with Peter there.

"If you get the blanket on the couch for me," he asked Peter, once he was mostly done with the tea and had chosen one of his favorite mugs with the worst science puns he could find, "I'll open the balcony for us." He offered.

Because his steps were careful, and Faustus was there for moral support, but he didn't think he could make the trip towards the door more than once without sitting down.

@localwebslingers

More than once, not everyone in the pack had been able together for the full moon but they all tried to. It was easiest for the wolves among them to do so, usually cramming into Aunt May's home and doing the best with the space they had, but sometimes the others had other things they had to take care of instead. Most of the time, all or most of them were able to meet, and if they were really lucky they could all get out into the forest for the peek of the cycle. Where they were far away from the city limits and could shift, run, and even hunt through the night. A chance to enjoy the moon's glow the way it should be, open and without fear.

Peter wasn't bothered with being away from them, and he looked back to Harry and offered a small lick to his arm to try and reassure him of that. There would always be the next cycle, and truthfully he would rather be there, making sure that Harry was recovering and had some extra help if needed. It was important, the pack would understand.

Still, the offer of the balcony made his ears and tail perk up slightly as another distant, muffled howl reached him from somewhere on the other side of the glass. Distant, unfamiliar, not a howl he knew but the next in the batch of voices ringing out to the moon. Offerings of howls, of their songs, and what she gave them. Peter didn't always have the chance to stretch his legs and run the way he wanted on these nights, but not being able to at least enjoy the night air and howl felt wrong. Deeply wrong, even if he'd been hesitant on if it would be alright or not. Less because of where he was and more because he had no idea if it would only add to any remaining nerves that Harry had.

He looked over to the balcony doors and back at Harry, glancing up to the tea that he was aware he'd been asked about but the split seemed fine to him. After a moment he nudged at his friend's arm and looked pointedly at the tea before back at him. Hoping the message was at least somewhat clear. The night was still young, Peter could wait until he drinks as ready. Besides, he wanted to bring Harry outside with him to hear what it was like on nights like this. When the sound wasn't for a threat or a warning, but something else.

|| @inhcritance ||

[nashvillethotchicken]

I know ldpdl thick as FUCK under them grandpa sweaters

[cienie-isengardu]

Jango Fett Open Seasons: Retreat vs. fight no matter the cost

Another detail from Jango Fett: Open Seasons that I find very telling about characters is their approach to retreat. I’m specifically want to talk about the  four major Mandalorians - Tor Vizsla, Jaster Mereel, Jango Fett and Montross as they all were at some point in the story put in situation when they needed to decide to continue fight no matter the cost (in theory the ideal Mandalorian warrior mindset) or to prioritizing their people’s life (a choice testifying to good leadership). And yes, those situations weren’t always exactly the same yet similar enough to see the implied(?) similarities in theoretical dissimilar characters.

So we have Jaster Mereel, the original leader of True Mandalorians. During a mission on Korda Six, when Mandalorians came across the enemy's heavy fire (and Jango ordered his people to find cover), Jaster gave an order to regroup at Jango’s location - the safest place and abort the air strike.

And once it became clear, they made a mistake to rely on second-handed intel - but before they learned it was Death Watch's trap - Jaster decided to abort the whole mission. Something quite different from what Jango will teach his son decades later (“Your loyalty, your honor – these are the things that matter. When you accept a mission, when you give your word, it is all that matters.”)

Montross however refused to regroup at Jango's location

and continued the attack, stating "we've never abandoned a mission!"

Montross survived thanks to Jaster who personally came to his aid only to betray his leader and leave him behind once Tor showed up. And while he tried to take command of True Mandalorians, he did order an evacuation, as the "Jaster's last order still stands" argument.

Then we have Tor Vizsla who during Jango’s attack on Death Watch’s ship, ordered everyone to evacuate.

And now, let’s talk about Jango Fett who started very much minded like Jaster, what was the best visible on Korda Six. The mission was his first official role as Squad Commander but he didn’t allow pride or desire to make Jaster proud to take over common sense. When it became clear his men were under too strong enemy’s fire, he ordered them to get into trenches / find cover. 

However on Galidraan, as a leader of True Mandalorians, when he already knew they walked again into Death Watch’s trap, instead of  de-escalate threat of the Jedi by at least trying calm down the situation and presenting what is going on behind the scene- and mind you, the Jedi did not have all facts but Fett already met Vizla at Governor's residence and as he wore helmet at that time, most likely had recorded this, not to mention all Mandalorians could present what they were doing and where they were via the recording from helmets - Fett ordered to open fire. And the Jedi naturally responded as such.

(And really, if Fett was smarter he could at least try to turn Jedi against Death Watch).

This is even more surprising choice as Jango's first reaction upon seeing Republic shuttles before even meeting eye to eye with Jedi was to call his second-in-command to order an evacuation.

Which is pretty ironic, that both Jaster and Tor, despite their ideological differences, were at some point shown to prioritizing their men’s safety by ordering retreat / evacuation, while Jango started as similar minded (Korda Six and upon seeing Republic shuttles on Galidraan) but once Jedi showed up, his attitude changed into “no running, fight whatever the cost” which not only led to great tragedy but made him more like Montross. 

[prisonhannibal]

Families in Gaza are starving because of Israel blocking resources from entering. The consequences of childhood starvation are severe and deadly, both immediately and long term. Malnutrition weakens your immune system and leaves you more vulnerable to infectious diseases, and makes it harder for your body to fight the illness, so the chance of severe illness from common illnesses is higher. Even completely treatable illnesses can kill you when you’re starving and don’t have access to medical care. This combined with lack of clean and safe drinking water is extremely dangerous, especially for the children. Malnutrition stunts your growth, affects your development and heightens risk of serious health problems for the rest of your life. Being underweight and suffering from malnutrition makes you cold more easily, and more vulnerable to hypothermia.

Can you imagine as a parent having to witness your child suffering like this? Fearing for your children’s lives from what would usually be a relatively minor illness? Hearing them cry from hunger because the occupation is starving them? This is every parents worst nightmare, but for Ahed this is reality.

Ahed has three beautiful young daughters under 10 years old. 9 year old Fatima “the closest to (Ahed’s) heart and my little one”, 6 year old Iman “the friendly, kind, and loving child who is loved by everyone” and little Nour, who is only one year old and has barely got to experience peace in her short life.

He campaigns every day to get attention for his campaign to feed them and keep them warm and hopefully evacuate when the border opens. We have the power to help Ahed and his little children survive this. Food prices in Gaza are extremely high and it’s difficult to even get water. Ahed and his family do not have adequate shelter from the cold. Donations can help him buy food and clothing and blankets for his children to keep them warm in the winter They’re already suffering so much from the sounds of bombs and repeated displacements, starvation and infectious diseases is another cruel consequence of the occupations genocide in Gaza.

I know he is scared and exhausted from asking for help for this, but he keeps going because his children are his whole world, and like any parent he would do anything to save them. This is his hope. I believe it’s our job, as the people who support and care about palestinians lives, to make sure the people who reach out for help know that the world hasn’t forgotten them. Please show Ahed that the compassionate people of the world will help him

they only have €7,153 raised out of the 40,000 goal. Anything you send will help a lot ❤️

DONATE HERE + VETTING (#229 on the spreadsheet)

@vampiricvenus @appsa @heritageposts @nabulsi @dirhwangdaseul @tamamita @butchniqabi @autisticmudkip @finalgirlabigailhobbs @sawasawako @khanger @neechees @loumandivorce @cuntylouis @jdon @dlxxv-vetted-donations @beserkerjewel @handweavers @socalgal @anneemay @pikslasrce @deepspaceboytoy

[webism]

pornstar!sukuna who has a niche for the dark and dangerous, he only accepts shoots that cater to his more… intense nature—ropes and chains and gags and rigs beyond the regular bedroom scenes.

pornstar!sukuna who works with many other actors and actresses. he's demeaned and degraded more people for a pay check than he can count, but his favourite is you. you’re not so easy to break, which he likes—plus, videos in which you bite back make double the profit.

pornstar!sukuna who is easy to agree when you call him one night asking for a favour. you were meant to do a camshow with another pornstar when he cancelled last minute—and you know people are excited for this one, if you don’t want to miss out on a paycheck you’d need to find a quick replacement.

pornstar!sukuna who is expecting a homemade bd/sm rig to greet him when he walks into your home that night.

pornstar!sukuna who isn’t expecting a bed with a pink duvet and matching fluffy pink handcuffs hanging from your headboard. it’s cute, he thinks—he can picture the scene, you laid out and fucked like a whore in pink. he’s eager, until you tell him the handcuffs aren’t for you, but for him.

pornstar!sukuna who is about ready to walk out, to tell you off for even assuming he’d do such things on camera, that he'd ruin his crafted image of this sadistic figurehead for a camshow of all things.

pornstar!sukuna who just can't say no and turn on his heels, not when you look up at him like that, your pretty eyes just too convincing. He's seen you fucked out and stupidly cockdrunk before, he knows what you look like when you submit wholly to him, and though it's a beautiful sight—one of his favourites—he can't deny that he's intrigued to know how you look through his eyes when they're glossed with desperate pleasure.

pornstar!sukuna, the notorious dominant, who loads up on thousands. of peoples screens handcuffed to a pink bed. Everything pink: the cuffs, the sheets, his mussed hair, the pretty blush that paints the bridge of his nose, the leaky tip of his cock as you stroke it, your nails painted pink to match.

pornstar!sukuna who growls when people start tipping each time he gets close to cumming. who looks so insanely out of place, big and imposing and so covered in tattoos that even his ridiculous length has been inked to an extent, all needy and growing all the more desperate as you keep denying him his orgasm. wrists chained to your wooden headboard, his muscles ache with the temptation of breaking free.

pornstar!sukuna who can't help but wonder if his life has been flipped on its head when you start praising him and he moans at your words alone. Who, for all his life has gotten off on inflicting the worst onto others, and can now feel the most powerful orgasm of his life cresting when those narcotic words spill from your lips. "doing so well for me, god you look good like this, sukuna."

pornstar!sukuna who can only hold on for so long before his taut-pulled patience snaps and burns on impact. so when he's watching himself through the display of your laptop, cock red and angry as it leaks in need at your denial of his orgasm again, he snaps.

pornstar!sukuna who breaks your handcuffs with one pull, and has you flipped over and taking his mean cock in less time than it takes you to process his movements. who is glad you were enjoying torturing him, because you're so wet that the stretch of his cock is only searingly painful and you're not pushed to tears... this time.

pornstar!sukuna who fucks you mindless for toying with him for so long. for airing out a side of him that is weak in the bones for you, and plastering it on the internet for anyone to see. he bullies his cock into you, mean and unrelenting—yet whispers the sweetest of nothings into your ear as he does so, low enough that your mic can't pick up on them—your ears only.

pornstar!sukuna who kisses you when he cums. his lip piercing cold against your lips, your legs shaking in desperate need for mercy as he paints your insides white.

pornstar!sukuna who laughs when you, in your cum-drunk haze, try to reach for your laptop to turn off the camshow.

pornstar!sukuna who promises your now-doubled viewer count that the stream won't end until you've come ten times on his cock—he's going to make an example out of you.

[sinner-as-saint]

the alchemy

Mob!Bucky x Reader 

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

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

a/n: new mob!bucky pics dropped–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then that night happened almost a decade ago… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...marry her?” 

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

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

Who was he talking to? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A lot happened after you left, actually–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck do you want?” 

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

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

“You wouldn’t.” 

He scoffed, “Wouldn’t I?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You–,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this was… beautiful. 

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

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

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

“I’m not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t call me that.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want a separate room!” 

“No.” 

“I’m not sleeping with you!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” 

“Good. Let’s go.” 

— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t sleep. 

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

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

“Will you stop that?” 

“I can’t sleep.” You mumbled.

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

“Wow. Some husband you are.” 

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

“What the–,” 

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

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

“I like this better.” 

“I better not find your hands wandering.” 

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

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

“Did I say you can move?” He chided. 

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

“Brat.” 

“Asshole.” 

— 

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No you didn’t. You–” 

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

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

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

“I–,” 

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

Sam smirked triumphantly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— 

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

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

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

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

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

“So I don’t escape?” 

“So you’re always safe.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll never find my girls.” 

“Why’s that?” 

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

“Sounds like you speak from experience.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’re lucky I’m not–,” 

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

You didn’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded. Fuck he looked good from up here. 

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

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

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

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

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

You only whimpered in response. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed. 

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

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

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

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

Damn him! 

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes, “How?” 

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

“You’re delusional, Barnes.” 

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

— 

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

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

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

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

This asshole. 

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

You barely lasted thirty minutes under the covers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?”

“Yes. You make it cold on purpose.” 

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

“Shut up.” 

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

“It’s cold.” 

“Warm it up for me then.” 

“What–” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right? 

— 

Things changed after that night. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— 

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

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

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

“Those burnt pancakes count?” 

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

—

Things got… playful. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m proud of you, you know?” 

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

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

“Tell me what?” 

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

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

—

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

All except one man. Your beloved friend, Sam. 

He showed up one morning, demanding to see Bucky. 

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

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

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

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

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

But here you were now. 

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

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

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

Your heart pounded. Something was wrong. 

“Tell me what truth?” 

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

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

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

You felt your eyes begin to water. 

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

What the actual fuck. 

“Sam…” You whispered in disbelief. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop telling me what to do!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He paused. You listened quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But he spared you.” 

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

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

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

But you understood.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have me.” He said. “Always.”

[joejhang]

andrew is so real for thinking neil is a hallucination cos now that we have outsider pov on him it's actually insane that he's a real person. like this is neil josten: he's the prettiest boy you've ever met. he's the runaway son of a serial killer. he has a million dollars but is afraid of spending money. he folds his clothes a specific way so he can tell when someone's gone through his stuff. he keeps a stalker's journal on the two greatest exy players of all time. he wears coloured contacts and they're brown. he paid a busboy $100 to knock him out cold. he insulted a celebrity athlete on live tv after trying to keep a low profile. he says he's trying to stay alive while running towards death like it's a race. he mouths off to the mafia. he respects your boundaries and is the first person ever to take you at face value and not consider you an out of control psychopath. he orders hits on your abusers. he has the most electric blue eyes you've ever seen. he looks great in clubbing clothes but dresses like he's homeless. he insults someone for their "intricate and endless daddy issues" while his father is a convicted mobster and serial killer. he didn't give a fuck when his teammate was killed. everyone seems to like him even though it's clear he's hiding a million secrets. he doesn't catch on to the many many hints you're giving him. he calls you out not for being a danger to others but for being a danger to yourself. he thinks you should be protected as well as trusting you to protect him (and you think, how can someone be a victim and a protector?). he doesn't give a flying fuck what literally anyone thinks about him. he comes back from being waterboarded and tortured and abused for weeks (to protect you) and is still as feisty and bitchy as before. except now he's a redhead and has many more scars. he is possibly the first person to ever make the active decision to protect you. he's willing to put himself in harm's way again and again and again so he won't lose you. he always has a cigarette but he never smokes. he says "you're not actually a sociopath are you?" and "the next time someone calls you soulless i might have to fight them". even though he's messy and a little oblivious he's sees you. he might be the only person to ever want you off your drugs. he wants to see you lose control, is aware that you're not out of control, you're actually so controlled and restrained all of the time and he wants to see you feel something, he wants you to be angry, be angry at him. he riles you up on purpose to see you show emotion, feel something. he's a runner and yet he's still possibly the bravest person you've ever met. he gets kidnapped and comes back even more bruised and battered than before and he's still a mouthy little shit who bitches at the press and cuts deals with the yakuza. he's most of the reason why the worst team in the nation ends up winning championships. he shoves a guy clean off his feet because they body checked you. he punched celebrity athlete riko moriyama in public, for you. he threatens him, for you. he's almost killed on live tv. he mouths off to the fbi. he watches the (second) best exy player in the world get shot. he also watches his father, notorious serial killer and gangster, get shot in front of him. and he laughs. he smiles. he kisses you and is never gonna run again and he's free and he wants to be with you, he wants you.

[monstersholygrail]

A Surprise Visit (1k Celebration Fic)

Tentacle Monster x fem!reader — multiple orgasms, breeding, primal play, aphrodisiac injection, rut, dub con, bondage, double penetration, aftercare

a/n: Also just wanna thank you guys for 3k as well! Sorry it took me so long to get to this

The clock ticks by, the noise echoing throughout the empty room. You tap your pen against your desk in time with it as your thoughts drift past your home and go to your Tentacle Monster bf. The house far too quiet without him around.

You should’ve been used to this by now, you really should’ve! Your Tentacle Monster bf always traveled back home around this time of the month. Always very insistent to keep up visits with his family.

And you totally understood. You’ve met his parents and family members a handful of times. Never on their homeland but here in your home with your bf. Tentacle Monster bf was always very firm about the dangers of the swamp in which his family lives in its depths.

So you let it go, believing he of course knows best. Every month you wave your bf off as he leaves home and disappears for about a week or so. Always coming back right when he says he will. But something was… strange this time around.

It seemed to hit your bf about a week earlier than usual. His moods and behaviors changing as they always did around the time he left to go see his family. Growls so low you almost couldn’t hear them leaving him whenever he sees someone else looking at you. Making sure to rub himself against you until you were fully drenched in his scent. Always keeping at least three tentacles on you at all times, his clingy behavior somehow worsening these last few days.

In fact, he couldn’t keep himself off of you. Always squirming into your clothes as soon as you walk in the door, slipping them off with ease. Before you knew it he was fucking you on every available surface until you two got into the bedroom where he brought you to orgasm after orgasm until you passed out wrapped up in his slick tentacles.

After about five whole days of this, your Tentacles Monster bf brought up the idea of him leaving for his trip early, sitting you down in the breakfast nook, his tentacles wrapped around your hands. Though he respectfully discussed it with you, you still felt a bit ambushed— like it came out of nowhere. You tried to be as understanding as always but seriously, what the hell was going on with him? You were seriously worried, he’s never gotten so wound up to this extent.

His abrupt departure only made you worry more, not wanting to assume the worst but it’s as though your thoughts have a mind of their own as they travel down those dark pathways anyway. All with absolutely no way of getting answers due to your bf being miles away while you’re stuck here sitting at home.

Well fuck that.

No longer fine to just wait around, you want to take action. You want to be with your bf and help him through whatever’s going on with him. As well as get some much needed answers. Your determination fuels you, causing you to charge in head first.

Right into the Eternal Swamp, a home for a large portion of the Tentacle Monster population. Mostly due to its natural resources…and the fact that it makes any human who dare enter to go insane. All to feed the land’s inhabitants.

You look out the window of your car as you arrive, the edge of the swamp barely even visible over the fog. Bringing with it a cold sense of anticipation that you chalk up to nerves. What the hell are you thinking going in there? This is crazy, you’ve definitely gone crazy. But your heart beats wildly in your chest, urging you to go to your bf.

Not letting another moment of hesitation take you, you swiftly exit your vehicle. Walking with steady and firm steps into the swamp. That strength and courage slowly leaves you the deeper you go into the swamp. The fog growing so heavy you can no longer see the sun or even what’s standing right in front of you.

You make your way through the swamp as best you can, peering down at the ground to make sure you don’t deep dive into its waters. You can’t help but start second guessing your choice again. The anticipation building the longer you’re in here. Why? You’re not sure but it sends a chill running down your spine.

Tentacle Monster watches you through the fog, his vision blurry with the haze of lust clouding his mind. His rut sending him spiraling into insanity, surely. It was worse this month, that was a given. For one it hit him sooner than usual and now here he was, conjuring your figure before him just so he can find a little bit of relief.

But your scent was so potent, your form so vivid, and your voice as you call out his name so clear. It takes a moment for it to click in Tentacle Monster bf’s mind that you’re actually here. And when it does, his brain goes haywire. Nostrils flaring, body crouching into position. A predator posed to strike and take down its prey.

You remain as clueless as ever. Hopelessly trying to look through the fog and find your way to your bf. Praying he finds you before you’re eaten alive. A snap of a branch echos throughout the swamp and you gasp, head jerking toward the sound. Your body’s frozen as if staying still might hide you from any lingering beasts. At a subtle swish within the fog your mind fires off alarms, body forcing you into flight or fight. And boy do you fly.

Bolting forward you suddenly couldn’t care less what you might run into. And it’s a good thing as a second later a ferocious growl rings across the swamp, making your stomach drop. Your bf chases after you, all that’s processing is that his mate is running from him. Tempting him with your sweet pussy in order to drive him mad.

Pumping your legs as fast as they can go you stumble through the swamp. Cursing under your breath in a panic as you smack into branch after branch. It’s slowing you down and whatever’s after you must know this place a lot better. Just as the thought occurs, a tentacle snaps out, curling tightly around your waist. It’s caught you.

A scream rises from your throat as you thrash around, desperate to escape. Tentacle Monster bf growls in appreciation as your body grinds against his long tentacles. First with your little game and now this, your bf is more than ready to take you and ask questions later. He needs inside of you. More of his tentacles eagerly wrap around your enchanting body, sharply pinning you down onto the swamp floor and spreading you open.

For a moment a spark of familiarity shoots through you but you’re a little too busy freaking the fuck out to pay it any mind. Your thoughts are quickly diverted anyway as you feel tentacles sliding your panties to the side, exposing your pretty pussy to open air. Tears spring to your eyes, this can’t be happening.

Tentacle Monster bf plunges inside you with one swift thrust, his tentacle’s slime acting as a natural lubricant as well as an aphrodisiac. Getting you all nice and ready for the fucking of a lifetime… Now that he’s inside you, your bf’s mind clears a little. Allowing his curiosity and fear for your safety to mix amongst the lust. His big body leans over you, noting your shaking form with unease. “What are you doing here, my mate?”

You gasp, your body instantly relaxing as your eyes shoot open to be met with the lovely vision of your bf. It was him. It was him the whole time and it’s him now inside of you. Tears of relief quickly replace tears of fear and your bf is quick to comfort you, his tentacles caressing you in a way that’s now soothing instead of suffocating.

“W-was worried about y-you. Acting weird. Needed to understand,” you stammer out, your body slowly ceasing in its shaking. Tentacle Monster bf sighs, knowing he can no longer hide this from you.

“Every month my kind go through an intense need to breed their mates. We cannot stop pumping our seed inside their fertile wombs until it takes or the week ends. During that time I come here to relieve myself.”

Even now your bf is slowly rocking his tentacle inside your pussy but you don’t think he notices he’s doing it. Meanwhile you can’t help but moan, the aphrodisiac causing your body to tingle and your mind to grow hazy.

“I-I can help you,” you offer and you can see your bf’s eyes flashing with barely controlled restraint.

“But I would not want to break your fragile human body, my heart,” he grits out. His tentacle picking up pace anyway and you arch into it, body squirming against his tentacles again.

“Can handle it. Promise,” you whisper as the aphrodisiac swells across your body, making your pussy slick with need and your veins run hot with lust.

That’s all the restraint your Tentacle Monster bf has. The moment the words leave your lips he’s withdrawing his tentacle only to thrust two more in your pussy. You cry out as he takes you like a feral beast, fucking his tentacles into your perfectly restrained body.

Your bf growls, the heat of his rut roaring to life and pumping through him with urgency. His tentacles move you at a brutal pace. Forcing you to meet his every thrust without being able to escape anything he’s giving you. Using you like his perfect little fuck toy as he takes his pleasure from your body and returns it to you tenfold. And you love it, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as your body jerks in time to his rhythm.

With his tentacles plowing inside you, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build. And god is it good, the way he’s fucking you taking you to heights you’ve never known. Your cries of pleasure charge the air around you and your bf lets out a rumble as he ruts into you even harden until you’re thrown off the edge.

But he doesn’t stop there. Tentacle Monster bf keeps fucking into you, never letting the pressure ebb away as your essence coats his tentacles. Needing more. “Come again for me, love. Come on, I know you can do it. Just one more,” your bf snarls like a monster possessed.

His words repeat in an endless cycle as he snaps his tentacles inside your cunt over and over again. Working you through so many orgasms you lose count. You release all your senses to him and happily. Getting completely lost in the feeling of him as his tentacles fill your every hole till you’re squeezing down on him in every possible way.

The sky is dark by the time your bf gives you his final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and spraying your fertile womb with his seed. Chilling noises rip from your boyfriend’s throat that you’ve never heard before yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it as your body twitches with overstimulation.

Tentacle monster bf slumps on top of you, his tentacles covering every inch of your body in a way that has you smoothly falling down from relentless pleasure. Both of you finding peace in a place you once thought could drive you mad. Maybe it has. But as your bf whispers words of affection and praise in your ear saying how well you handled his rut and how he can’t wait for his eggs to grow inside of you… you don’t really care if you have gone mad.

[chosok-amo]

HELP ME, MAN! : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you, their little girlfriend, scared the shit out of your boyfriends. they don't know why, how, them, the strongest jujutsu sorcerers in the modern world are scared of their girlfriend.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, fem! reader. anger issues mentioned, you scared the shit out of them. fluff.

wc. | ( 𝜗𝜚 ) masterlist

( 𝜗𝜚 ) art belongs to the artist.

being the strongest sorcerers in the modern world, gojo satoru and geto suguru didn’t know fear. they had faced countless curses, fought against the worst of the worst, and never once backed down. no matter how dangerous, no matter how terrifying the curse, they’d come out on top, especially when they worked together. their bond and strength were unmatched. they could take on anything the world threw at them without flinching.

but there was one thing that shook them to their core. something even worse than a thousand cursed spirits combined.

you.

their fiery, sarcastic little girlfriend, who had more rage bottled up in her than any curse they’d ever faced. when you were angry, it wasn’t just explosive—it was terrifying. your sharp tongue, your piercing glares, and the way you could tear them apart with a single, biting comment. they’d rather face off against the worst special-grade curse than deal with your wrath.

and right now, they were both standing in front of you, like guilty children caught red-handed. you were pacing back and forth, arms crossed, the air thick with tension. they could handle anything… anything but this.

“so,” you started, your voice cold and sarcastic, “which one of you wants to explain this mess?” your eyes flicked between them, daring one of them to speak up.

gojo, never one to shy away from a challenge, opened his mouth, though his usual cocky grin was nowhere to be seen. “babe, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” he tried to play it off, but even he knew he was walking on thin ice.

you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him, your eyes narrowing dangerously. “wasn’t that bad? really, satoru? because to me, it looks like you completely ignored the one thing i asked for.”

geto stood to the side, looking like he was praying for some sort of divine intervention. he knew better than to jump in too soon, but he also knew you were right. they’d messed up. and badly.

“idiot, stop talking,” geto said quietly, placing a hand on his friend’s arm, though his own nerves were clearly showing. then, he turned to you, his tone soft and apologetic. “we’re sorry. we really didn’t mean to mess this up, it just—”

“oh, so you’re both sorry? well, that fixes everything,” you cut him off, your sarcasm biting. “i guess next time i’ll just expect the bare minimum from the two of you.”

gojo winced, trying to shrink into the background, and even geto, usually calm and composed, was struggling to keep his cool under your stare. the two of them could take on anything, but this? this was something entirely different.

you could feel their unease, but it didn’t soften your mood just yet. “i ask for one thing,” you continued, pacing again, “and what do you do? exactly the opposite.” your voice rose with each word, your frustration clear. gojo shot a glance at geto, mouthing, “what do we do?”

geto shrugged helplessly, though he knew there was only one way out of this—admitting they were wrong. completely and utterly wrong. “look, we really messed up, okay? we’ll make it right, i swear. just… don’t be mad at us, alright?” he sounded genuine, his usual stoic tone now laced with concern.

you stopped pacing, your arms still crossed, and looked at both of them. “you better. because if you think i’m mad now, wait until i’m really pissed.” they both nodded, practically in unison. they knew better than to push their luck. after all, you were the one thing that could truly strike fear into their hearts. curses? no problem. a pissed-off girlfriend with anger issues? that was another story entirely.

“we’ll fix it,” gojo promised, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual, clearly trying to get back in your good graces. “yeah, we’ll do whatever it takes,” geto added, backing him up, eyes serious.

you watched them for a long moment, letting the tension hang in the air before sighing. “good. because the last thing i want is to be disappointed again.” they both exhaled in relief, knowing they were getting a second chance. you may have been their biggest weakness, but you were also their greatest strength—keeping them in check when nothing else could.

I DIDN'T SLAM THE DOOR, I SWEAR!

there was also a moment—just like any other day—when you and gojo found yourselves in a small argument. nothing major, just one of those little things that built up over time. this time, it was about him always leaving his clothes on the floor. no matter how many times you asked, it seemed like he just couldn’t get the hang of putting them in the hamper.

you stood in the bedroom, arms crossed, glaring at the pile of clothes that had been tossed haphazardly on the floor next to the bed. “again, satoru?” your voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “is it really that hard to put your clothes in the basket? it’s right there.”

gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed, looked up at you, his signature grin plastered on his face, but you could see the nervousness behind it. “come on, doll. it’s not that big of a deal, right? they’re just clothes.”

“just clothes? satoru, you’ve been leaving them everywhere—everywhere—for weeks. i’m not your maid!” you snapped, waving your hand toward the scattered mess. “you’re lucky i haven’t thrown them all out by now.”

gojo chuckled, clearly amused by your annoyance. “oh, come on, you wouldn’t throw them out. you love me too much for that.” he leaned back on the bed, the smirk growing wider. “besides, you could always pick them up yourself if it’s that important,“ he added, the taunt subtle but noticeable.

your eyes narrowed, the irritation bubbling up even more. he knew exactly what he was doing—pushing your buttons, trying to get a rise out of you. and it was working. you clenched your fists, taking a deep breath to keep from snapping right away, but the frustration was hard to contain.

“satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm as you looked at him. “i am not your maid. i’m not here to clean up after you like some kind of personal assistant.”

he opened his mouth, about to say something in response, but you cut him off, stepping closer, your temper flaring. “i already deal with enough without having to pick up your damn clothes every single day. you know i hate it when the house is messy, and you still leave your stuff everywhere. why? because you think i’ll just clean it up for you?”

his smirk wavered, just for a second, as he saw how serious you were. he might have been teasing, but he knew when you were on the verge of losing your patience. and right now? you were teetering on the edge.

gojo sat there, the smirk replaced by a hint of uneasiness. he hadn’t expected you to get this mad, but then again, he should have known. you weren’t one to back down easily, especially when it came to this issue.

he swallowed hard, trying to salvage the situation. “okay, okay, i get it. i know you’re not my maid. but come on, it’s just a few clothes. it really doesn’t take that much effort to pick them up, does it?”

you could feel your irritation spike even higher at his words, and your eyes narrowed. the way he was downplaying it, acting like it was no big deal, just pushed you closer to your breaking point. if it didn’t take much effort, then why couldn’t he do it?

“if it’s so easy, satoru,” you snapped, voice sharp with anger, “then why can’t you do it?”

without giving him a chance to respond, you bent down, grabbing one of the shirts from the pile of discarded clothes and hurled it at him. the fabric hit his chest, and he blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that reaction.

“you think it’s not a big deal, right? it’s just a few clothes, no effort at all,” you continued, grabbing another piece of clothing and throwing it at him. “then why do you keep leaving them everywhere? because i’ll pick them up for you? i told you, satoru, i’m not your maid.”

gojo sat there, eyes wide, the smirk completely eradicated as you hurled clothes at him. he flinched each time one hit him, and he didn’t say a word, recognizing he’d messed up.

when you grabbed another shirt, he finally spoke, his voice softer. “babe, wait—”

you didn’t stop, your eyes blazing, and he saw the real anger blazing in them. “you think it’s funny to disrespect me like this? to treat me like some kind of servant?”

gojo looked at you, his usual confident facade cracking under your intense glare. he knew he messed up, but he still tried to keep some of his usual attitude, though it faltered when he spoke. “it’s not that big of a deal, doll, come on. i’m just a bit messy, isn’t that part of the charm?”

he knew the moment those words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. your expression darkened even more, and another shirt hit him.

gojo’s confidence shattered the second the words left his mouth. he saw the way your expression darkened, eyes narrowing even further as the tension in the room spiked. before he could even backtrack, another shirt flew at him, hitting him square in the face. he froze for a second, blinking as the fabric slid off his head.

“wrong move, dickhead,” he thought, his heart speeding up just a bit as he noticed the way you were glaring at him, practically daring him to say something else.

without another word, gojo shot up from the bed, all traces of his usual cockiness gone. “okay, okay! i’ll clean it up!” he stammered, frantically bending down to gather the clothes you had thrown at him. he moved faster than he ever did in a fight, scrambling to pick up the scattered mess around the room.

you stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a piercing stare as he scurried around the floor, picking up every last piece of clothing with a nervous energy. the man who faced down curses without blinking an eye was now clearly scared of you.

gojo moved quickly, rushing to pick up all the clothes, his heart pounding the whole time. he had faced down some of the worst curses in the world, fought against overwhelming odds, but this? this was something else entirely.

he could feel your gaze on him, sharp and unwavering, and he knew better than to make any snide comments or try to joke his way out of this. he was in the doghouse, and he knew it. as he finally gathered the last of the clothes into a messy pile, he stood there, glancing up at you, his usual confident demeanor completely vanished before he quickly left the room.

gojo, in his frantic rush to escape the room, accidentally slammed the door behind him with more force than he intended. the loud bang echoed through the hallway, and he froze for a split second, his eyes wide with panic as the realization hit him. “shit.” without wasting another moment, he bolted down the hall, clutching his clothes like his life depended on it.

he raced into the living room, where geto was sitting on the couch, looking far too tense for someone who hadn’t been directly involved. geto had heard everything. every word of the argument had reached him, and he hadn’t dared to intervene—not with you in that mood. he knew better. much better.

when gojo came running in, face pale and eyes wide, geto’s first instinct was to flinch, his muscles tensing even more. gojo practically threw himself at geto, clinging to him like a lifeline, the pile of clothes still in his arms. “suguru, help me! she’s gonna kill me, man. i didn’t mean to slam the door, i swear!”

geto, whose nerves were already frayed from listening to the argument, quickly pushed gojo away, eyes wide with alarm. “fuck off, satoru!” he hissed, scrambling to put some distance between them. “don’t want to be anywhere near you when she starts yelling again. i don’t need to get dragged into this.”

gojo blinked at him, clearly desperate for any sort of support. “but—but you’re supposed to have my back!”

“not when it comes to her,” geto shot back, keeping his voice low in case you were nearby. “do you know how terrifying she is when she’s pissed? no way, man. you’re on your own for this one.“

gojo groaned, his shoulders sagging as he slumped onto the couch beside geto, still clutching the clothes. “come on, suguru. you can’t just leave me to deal with this by myself. we’re in this together, remember?“

before geto could even muster a response, both of them froze at the sound of your heavy footsteps approaching from the hallway. it was slow but deliberate, each step echoing louder than the last. gojo’s eyes widened in panic, and he shot a terrified glance at geto, who was looking equally tense. neither of them dared to move, as if staying perfectly still might make them invisible.

“satoru,” geto whispered, voice barely audible as his eyes darted toward the doorway, “you better hide or something, man. i don’t want to be involved when she gets here.”

“go where?!” gojo hissed back, frantically looking around the living room for some sort of escape route. but there was nowhere to go, no time to run. he was trapped. the footsteps grew louder, and gojo’s heart pounded in his chest. “oh no, oh no, she’s coming…” he muttered under his breath, gripping his clothes tighter.

“this is your fault,” geto whispered harshly, scooting a few inches away from gojo. “you’re the one who pissed her off.“

“satoru…!” your voice called from down the hallway, sharp and unamused. both men stiffened at the sound, knowing that whatever came next wasn’t going to be good. gojo’s face drained of color as he leaned closer to geto, whispering desperately, “don’t leave me, man! i’ll do anything—just don’t let her kill me!”

geto looked at him, weighing his options, but before he could say anything, there you stood, arms crossed, your glare fixed on gojo like a laser. your presence alone filled the room with an intense pressure that made even the strongest sorcerers feel small. “satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm, “did you just slammed the door?”

gojo was frozen, his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. he looked back and forth between you and geto, the panic clear on his face. “uh, i...i didn’t mean to,” he squeaked, the clothes clutched tightly in his hands.

geto, watching the scene, leaned back into the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible, avoiding eye contact with you. he knew better than to draw your attention.

you didn’t say anything at first, just raised an eyebrow, and the silence was enough to make both gojo and geto sweat. finally, you spoke again, your voice laced with irritation. “do you want to try that again?”

gojo immediately shook his head, eyes wide with fear. “n-no! absolutely not, babe!” he blurted out, his voice shaky. “i swear, i wouldn’t do that again! it was totally an accident! i didn’t mean to slam the door, i promise!”

he stood there, practically trembling under your glare, clutching his clothes like they were his shield. “i’ll be so careful next time—no more slamming doors. i’ll tiptoe if i have to!” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush as he desperately tried to fix the situation.

geto, who was watching from the couch, subtly leaned back, clearly relieved that gojo was taking the brunt of your anger and praying he wouldn’t get dragged into it.

gojo looked at you with pleading eyes, hoping his quick apology would be enough to cool your anger. “i’ll be good, i swear,” he added, his voice softening, hoping to appeal to your softer side. but your expression remained firm, leaving him to sweat just a little longer, wondering if he'd escaped this round of your wrath—or if he was still in trouble. you slowly nod before walking away back to your shared bedroom without taking your eyes off of him.

gojo let out a shaky breath as you walked away, the silence in the room almost deafening. he stood there, frozen in place, clutching his clothes tightly and wondering if he was really off the hook or if you were just planning something even worse.

geto, who had been watching the scene unfold, let out a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing his tense muscles. “jesus, man,” he whispered, turning to look at gojo. “i don’t know how you do it. i’d be shitting my pants right now if i was in your shoes.”

WHITE TURN PINK

you stormed into the living room, laundry basket in hand, grumbling under your breath. your favorite white button-up shirt was now an embarrassing shade of pale pink, along with almost all the white clothes from the load. it didn’t take long to piece together what happened: one of them had carelessly thrown pink clothes in with the whites.

as you stood in front of gojo and geto, blocking their view of the video game they were so engrossed in, they immediately began to protest. “hey, we were—” gojo started, but the moment they looked up and saw the expression on your face, their words died in their throats.

your eyes were narrowed, and your lips pressed into a thin line. you were pissed, and they could feel the tension hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

“who’s turn was it to do the laundry?” you asked, your voice low but laced with enough irritation to make them both sit up a little straighter. without missing a beat, gojo’s hand shot up, pointing directly at geto. “it was him!” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.

geto’s eyes widened, his head snapping toward gojo in disbelief. “seriously?” he mouthed, glaring at him for the betrayal. but when he turned back to face you, his defiance melted away, replaced with sheer panic as he saw you holding up the now pink shirt.

geto could feel shivers running down his spine, his heart racing at the sight of your anger and the tainted shirt clutched in your hands. he wanted to protest, to deny the accusation that gojo had so shamelessly thrown at him, but one glance at your face told him it was pointless.

he swallowed hard, glancing at gojo who had the gall to give him a shrug and a smirk, as if it wasn’t his fault this had happened. but geto didn’t have time to deal with that right now. right now, he had to survive this. “care to explain this?” you asked, holding up the evidence.

geto could feel the color draining from his face, his mind racing as he desperately tried to come up with a convincing excuse. he shot a glare at gojo, silently vowing to get him back for this later, but right now, he had to handle the wrath of you.

“i...uh...” he stuttered, his voice shaky as he struggled to find the right words.

but before he could say anything more, gojo piped up beside him, clearly enjoying his friend’s predicament. “come on, tell her,"” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

gojo’s smirk didn’t last long. the second you shifted your glare toward him, your eyes narrowing dangerously, his confidence evaporated. you didn’t have to say a word—the intensity of your stare was enough to make him freeze in place. his lips clamped shut, and he quickly raised his hands in surrender, silently mouthing a “sorry” as he shrank back into the couch.

the teasing look was gone in an instant, replaced with one of sheer regret. gojo knew better than to push you any further when you were this angry. his eyes darted between you and geto, desperately hoping the attention would stay on his best friend and not shift back to him.

the atmosphere in the room was heavy, the tension palpable as both gojo and geto sat there, silent and clearly nervous about your next move.

gojo avoided your gaze, opting to find the most interesting spot on the floor to focus on, all his earlier cockiness gone. he couldn’t believe he’d so effortlessly thrown geto under the bus, and now they were both neck-deep in your wrath. geto, on the other hand, still looked like a deer in headlights, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a satisfactory explanation for the pink shirt.

your gaze slowly shifted back to geto, who visibly tensed under the weight of your stare. you crossed your arms, eyes still sharp as you raised an eyebrow. “well?” you prompted, your voice low but demanding. “explain.”

geto’s heart thudded in his chest, his tongue feeling heavy and clumsy as he tried to form words under your intense scrutiny. he swallowed hard, his mind scrambling to come up with any sort of explanation that might appease you.

“i...i...” he started, his voice cracking slightly. “i just...i didn’t...uh...”

he trailed off, his eyes darting to where gojo sat, silently mouthing, “help me, man!” but gojo only shrugged, unwilling to come to his aid and risk drawing your anger back towards himself.

geto’s throat went dry. his usual calm and collected demeanor was nowhere to be found as he fumbled for words. he could feel the color draining from his face, his mind scrambling for any excuse that wouldn’t make things worse. but there was no escaping this one.

“i—uh…” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “i didn’t realize the pink clothes were mixed in with the whites. it was an honest mistake, i swear.” he glanced over at gojo for a split second, hoping for some kind of lifeline, but gojo was firmly staring at the floor, wisely avoiding your gaze after nearly getting himself in deeper trouble.

“i didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” geto continued, his voice softening as he gave you a tentative, apologetic look. “i’ll… i’ll fix it. i promise.” you didn’t say anything at first, just continued to glare at him, making him squirm under the silence. geto knew he had messed up, and the longer you stared at him, the more he regretted it.

the silence was deafening, and geto fidgeted nervously, the weight of your glare like a vise around his throat. gojo watched from the corner of his eye, still trying to act casual even as the tension in the room grew.

geto swallowed hard, his mind racing for anything that might soften your anger. “listen, i know i messed up,” he began, his voice dropping to a quiet, contrite tone. “but i swear, i’d never do it on purpose. it was an error, a genuine mistake. it won't happen again.”

“damn right it won’t,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “because you two are redoing the laundry now.” gojo, still sitting stiffly beside geto, looked like he wanted to say something smart but quickly thought better of it. geto, on the other hand, sighed in defeat, clearly knowing there was no getting out of this.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, both knowing that they had no choice but to follow your command. gojo let out a weary sigh, already dreading the chore ahead, while geto simply nodded in submission.

“yes, ma’am,” geto murmured, rising from the couch. gojo followed suit, reluctantly getting to his feet as well. the two men both looked like puppies that had just been chastised as they trailed after you as you led the way to the laundry room.

with matching groans of reluctance, the two strongest sorcerers in the world—men who had faced countless curses without fear—got up from the couch, heads hanging low, and shuffled toward the laundry room like a pair of scolded children.

as they passed, you shook your head, muttering under your breath, “honestly, how hard is it to separate the colors?” geto shot gojo a sideways glance. “this is your fault,” he hissed, still holding a grudge from being thrown under the bus. gojo shrugged, looking unapologetic. “hey, better you than me, man.”

“you owe me,” geto muttered darkly, glaring at him as they got to work on fixing their laundry disaster, while you stood in the doorway with your arms crossed, making sure they did it right this time.

they both muttered and grumbled under their breath as they sorted through the laundry, each taking their turn to throw in a sarcastic comment.

“you know, for being the strongest, we sure do spend a lot of time sorting socks,” geto grumbled, holding up a black one that had somehow gotten mixed in with the white.

gojo rolled his eyes, grabbing the sock from his friend and dropping it into the correct pile. “well, if you had been more careful—”

“oh shut up, satoru.”

you leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as you watched gojo and geto sort through the laundry, their faces set in identical frowns. they muttered to each other under their breath, casting glances in your direction every now and then, clearly miffed about being forced into this chore.

as the two men carefully separated the clothes, making sure to keep the colors apart this time, you couldn’t help but smirk. the sight of them working diligently, like a pair of scolded children, was a sight to see. you can hear them blaming each other. “stop fighting,” you tell them.

they both stop their bickering and look up at you. gojo starts to open his mouth, but you shoot him a warning glare, and he quickly closes it. “we’re not fighting,” geto mutters, continuing to sort through the laundry, careful to avoid any more pink shirts.

gojo rolls his eyes, mumbling something under his breath, but you catch it anyway. “what was that?” you ask sharply, pinning him with a look.

gojo swallows hard, realizing he’s been caught. “nothing,” he mutters sheepishly.

WE HAVE TO STAND FOR OURSELVES

in the kitchen, geto and gojo stood side by side, leaning against the counter, their expressions tense but trying to appear more confident than they actually were. they glanced nervously toward the hallway, making sure you weren’t nearby as they quietly discussed their situation.

“we’re the strongest sorcerers in the world,” gojo muttered, half-convincing himself as much as he was trying to convince geto. “we shouldn’t be scared of her. she’s… she’s just one girl. smaller than us. it’s ridiculous.”

geto nodded, though there was a hint of hesitation in his agreement. “right. we face curses and danger all the time. we can’t let her… you know, terrorize us in our own house. we’re the men in the relationship.”

they had a point. they had faced deadly curses and powerful sorcerers without flinching. but here they were, nervously tip-toeing around their girlfriend like frightened schoolboys.

“absolutely,” gojo continued, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “we can’t let her intimidate us. we’re stronger than her. we’re the strongest.” geto nodded again, though he seemed a bit less sure this time. “we need to show her that we won’t be pushed around... right?”

they both tried to sound resolute, but there was a visible nervousness in their body language—shoulders tense, eyes darting toward the door every few seconds, like they were expecting you to burst in at any moment.

“yeah,” gojo added, his voice lowering as if he didn’t even believe what he was saying. “we can’t let her push us around. i mean, come on. we’re gojo satoru and geto suguru. we shouldn’t be scared of her. right?”

but even as the words left his mouth, the doubt was clear. geto let out a small sigh, nodding but with much less confidence than before. “yeah, totally. we shouldn’t be scared… at all.”

there was a brief pause as both of them exchanged uneasy glances, neither wanting to admit just how much they were actually afraid of upsetting you. their bravado was shaky at best.

the silence stretched on. clearly, both men were starting to panic. they were not used to feeling weak, and to have you—someone they cared about and respected—wielding so much power over them was uncomfortable to say the least.

“so we...we should confront her, right? show her we're not afraid?” gojo asked, more for reassurance than anything else. geto nodded half-heartedly, his own confidence flagging as the thought of facing you head-on filled him with unease.

just as their uncertainty reached its peak, the echo of your footsteps rang through the hallway. they both went still, their eyes wide as they heard you approaching and turned to look at each other in panic. the color drained from their faces, and all the bravado they had been trying to muster moments ago completely evaporated.

you appeared in the hallway, looking nothing like the terrifying figure they had been hyping themselves up to face. instead, you were dressed in your cozy cat printed pajamas, your hair slightly messy, and you looked more like someone ready for a peaceful evening than the source of their terror. you seemed so casual and calm, it was almost comical.

but despite how cute and harmless you looked, the effect on the two strongest sorcerers was instant. when you reached them and stood in front of them, a casual look on your face as you were about to ask what they were up to, they immediately went into panic mode. without a second thought, both men dropped to their knees, their faces showing sheer dread.

“it was all suguru’s idea!” gojo blurted out immediately, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation, his eyes wide with fear. he didn’t even give geto a chance to protest before continuing. “he said we should stand up to you, that we’re the strongest sorcerers and shouldn’t be scared. i—I told him it was a bad idea!“

geto glared at gojo, but he was too terrified to defend himself properly. “i—what?! you were the one who said we shouldn’t let her push us around!” he stammered, trying to shift the blame back.

you looked at them, clearly confused by their sudden and dramatic display of fear. your eyebrows knitted together as you took in the sight of gojo and geto kneeling in front of you, their faces pale and their eyes wide with distress. it was such a stark contrast to the usual confident and unflappable demeanor they showed in almost every other situation.

“what is going on with you two?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. “why are you both on the floor?” you glanced between them, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene before you. the sight of them so unnerved and trying to pass the blame off on each other was bewildering. your calm demeanor and casual attire made the whole situation seem even more surreal.

they both looked up at you, their faces a mixture of fear and shame. gojo opened his mouth to speak, but geto cut him off immediately, wanting to defend himself.

“please, we're sorry,” geto blurted out, his voice quavering slightly. “we were just... uh...”

gojo chimed in, his voice still panicked. “we were just... messing around. yeah, messing around. just having a bit of fun.” they look at you, silently begging for forgiveness and trying hard to hide their previous arrogance.

you looked at them, your expression turning from confusion to genuine puzzlement as you tried to make sense of their frantic apologies and conflicting explanations. “messing around? having fun?” you repeated, clearly unsure of what they were talking about.

“what are you guys even saying?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. you took a step closer, still trying to understand what could have prompted such an over-the-top reaction. “seriously baby, what’s going on? did i miss something?” your hands softly find their cheek, gently rubbing your thumbs across their skin.

the feeling of your hands on their cheeks was both soothing and embarrassing. they leaned into your touch, their bodies still tense with anxiety.

“we... we were just...” gojo began, his voice cracking slightly. geto cut him off again, clearly not wanting his friend to say anything else that could dig them deeper into trouble.

“it's nothing, really,” he mutters, looking up at you with a mix of guilt and shame. “just a silly argument. we're sorry if we worried you.” their panicked expressions soften slightly as they look up at you, still on their knees. they look so pathetic, and so uncharacteristically vulnerable, that it's almost endearing.

you looked down at them, your expression softening as you saw their vulnerable and somewhat endearing state. a small, amused smile played at the corners of your lips as you reached out to gently stroke their cheeks.

“you two weren't in bed,” you said, your tone light and soothing, “i was looking for you two. i just wanted to see if my boyfriends wanted to cuddle or hang out. i didn’t realize you were having such a… dramatic moment.”

the tension in their bodies seemed to ease at your words and soft touch. they both looked up at you, their eyes full of guilt and embarrassment.

“we, uh...” gojo started, but geto cut him off again.

“we're sorry we didn't notice you looking for us,” he muttered, his voice still laced with shame. “we were just having a... disagreement, and we didn't want to bother you.” they both looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, their faces full of remorse.

seeing the guilt and embarrassment in their eyes, you softened, feeling a wave of affection for them despite their earlier antics. you reached out and gently helped them to their feet, your touch reassuring and comforting.

“come on, baby,” you said, your voice warm as you guided them towards the bedroom.

you could tell they were feeling remorseful, and despite your confusion over their odd behavior, you chose not to press the issue. instead, you opted to show them a different kind of comfort. “let’s just go to bed and cuddle,” you continued, smiling at them, “it’ll be okay.“

as you led them toward the bedroom, gojo’s initial nervousness began to melt away in the warmth of your gentle presence. noticing your obliviousness to the full extent of their earlier antics, he seized the opportunity to return to his usual self, his playful side resurfacing.

“you know,” gojo began, sliding closer to you with a wide, affectionate grin, “i’ve really missed you today.” he snuggled up to you, his usual playful demeanor coming back full force. “it’s like, you’re the best part of my day, and i’ve been counting the minutes until we could be like this again.”

geto, feeling the shift in gojo’s mood, couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the change. he followed suit, wrapping an arm around you as you all made your way to the bedroom. “yeah, what toru said,” he added with a softer smile “we definitely missed you.“

behind the closed door, the three of you entered the bedroom, where the soft, dim lighting created a cozy and comforting atmosphere. as you led them both toward the bed, gojo began to shed his shirt, the fabric slipping off his toned body with an air of nonchalance.

“you know,” he stated casually, “i think a cuddle session is exactly what we need right now.” he tossed his shirt aside, not even bothering to see where it landed as he flopped down onto the bed.

geto followed suit, tossing his shirt and pants aside as well before joining gojo on the bed. “definitely,” he agreed, resting his head on the pillow. “i could use a good cuddle right now. it’s been a long day, after all.”

both men looked up at you expectantly, their eyes full of a mix of affection and mischief. they patted the space between them, silently inviting you to join the snuggle puddle.

“come here,” gojo said, his voice low and warm.

as you complied with their silent invitation, snuggling in between them, gojo wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer against his bare chest. geto did the same, snuggling up against your back and molding his body to yours. his hand lightly caressed your arm, the touch tender and intimate.

“this is nice,” gojo murmured, burying his face into your hair. “i love having you here like this.”

the warmth of their bodies against yours was like a small, comfortable sanctuary. gojo’s arms were wrapped securely around you, his bare chest pressed against your back. geto was curled up behind you, his body molding to yours like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.

“it’s perfect,” geto agreed, his voice soft and muffled as he nuzzled into your hair. “having you here with us like this just makes everything feel right in the world.” gojo hummed in agreement, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin. “absolutely,” he said, his eyes closing in contentment.

for a few moments, none of you spoke, the only sound was the soft rustle of sheets and the steady beat of everyone's hearts. then, gojo spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “can i tell you something, baby?”

you hum softly, still buried your face on his chest.

gojo's fingers continued to caress your skin as he gathered his thoughts. he was quiet for a few moments before he finally spoke, his voice soft and serious.

“you know we care about you more than anything, right?” he asked, his hand moving to gently tilt your chin up so that you were looking at him. “more than anything in the entire world.” geto, sensing the sincerity in gojo’s words, moved in close on your other side, his arm wrapping tighter around you. “he’s right,” he muttered. “you mean the world to us.”

you felt a swell of warmth at their heartfelt words. you looked up at gojo, his gaze soft and sincere, and then turned to meet geto’s equally genuine eyes. your heart ached with affection for them both.

“i know,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. the emotions were almost overwhelming. you tightened your grip around gojo’s waist, pulling him closer, and then reached out to draw geto nearer to you as well.

gojo and geto both responded instantly to your wordless gesture, their bodies drawing closer as if magnetized to yours. gojo pulled you impossibly close to him, his arms embracing you like a vice, while geto pressed himself against your back, completing the cozy little sandwich.

gojo pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds before he spoke again, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smirk. “we just... we want to make sure you feel loved and safe, always.”

geto’s chin rested on your shoulder, and he added his own gentle kisses to your neck and face. his hands stroked your arms soothingly, his touch tender and affectionate.

“always,” he echoed gojo’s sentiment, his voice low and earnest, “you matter so much to us, baby.” gojo’s chest vibrated slightly as he hummed, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

“we’d do anything for you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

you let out a contented sigh, feeling the weight of their embrace and the tenderness of gojo’s kiss on your forehead. the warmth of their bodies pressed against you was incredibly comforting, and you closed your eyes for a moment to fully appreciate the feeling.

“i feel safe,” you murmured, your voice soft and sincere, “i always feel safe with you two, more than with anyone else. each time you cuddle me, it’s like my brain just turns off. i get so comfortable that i could fall asleep in seconds.”

you nestled even closer into their arms, savoring the sense of security and peace they provided. their combined presence was like a soothing balm, washing away any lingering worries or stress. in their embrace, you felt completely at ease, and the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle comfort of their love.

gojo and geto both tightened their hold on you even more as you spoke, their bodies pressing against yours like an impenetrable wall of warmth and affection. the knowledge that you felt safe and secure with them, that their presence could turn off your worries and calm your mind, filled their chests with a deep sense of contentment.

“good,” geto murmured against your neck. “that's exactly how it should be.”

gojo nuzzled against your hair, his arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you. “you should always feel like this,” he said, “like nothing in the world can touch you.”

as the three of you continued to snuggle, geto’s hand began tracing gentle patterns up and down your arm, his touch soothing and rhythmic.

“we would do anything to make sure you feel this way,” he said softly. “you deserve nothing less than happiness and comfort.” gojo leaned down slightly to press another gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a few moments before he spoke again.

“always, baby... always.”

you intertwine your free hand with geto’s, feeling his fingers gently intertwine with yours. with your other hand, you caressed gojo’s bare waist, enjoying the warmth and closeness of him.

as you felt their soothing touches and heard their comforting words, you closed your eyes, already starting to drift off. “i’m so grateful for you both,” you murmured softly, your voice barely audible. “thank you for being in my life.”

gojo and geto both held you tighter as you intertwined your fingers with geto’s and rested your palm on gojo’s waist. the simple touch was like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place, completing the circle of love and affection that surrounded you.

their hearts swelled with emotion at your words, and they both responded in unison, their voices low and soothing. “we’re the grateful ones, sweetheart,” gojo spoke up. “we should be thanking you for bringing us into your life,” geto continued, his voice warm and gentle.

you felt their embrace tighten around you, the simple touches of intertwined fingers and a warm palm on gojo’s waist completing the circle of love and affection. their words filled the space around you, wrapping you in a cocoon of emotional warmth.

as their voices melded into a soothing, harmonious backdrop, you drifted further into the comfort they provided. the gentle rise and fall of their breaths and the steady rhythm of their heartbeats guided you toward sleep.

you didn't have the chance to respond, as the comfort of their presence and their heartfelt words lulled you into a deep, peaceful slumber.

gojo and geto each felt a sense of deep contentment wash over them as they heard your breaths become slower and more even, signaling your descent into sleep. they held you close, their embraces protective and affectionate.

they watched over you as you slept, their gazes full of admiration and love. they continued to whisper soft, soothing words and gentle touches, ensuring you slept undisturbed and surrounded by their love.

“sweet dreams, baby,” gojo said quietly, his lips brushing your forehead. geto echoed his sentiment, his hand gently running through your hair. “we love you so much.”

the room was filled with a peaceful, quiet atmosphere, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of sheets and the soft rhythm of their breaths. gojo and geto were completely engrossed in their silent vigil, their senses fully attuned to you and your every movement.

slowly, the dawn began to break, casting a soft, morning glow into the room. it caught the edges of gojo’s silver hair and geto’s dark locks, creating a soft, halo-like effect around their heads.

[mrsbarnesblog]

i need help

summary: Rafe has a breakdown and he finally asks for help

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angsty and fluffy?, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ward is the worst father (this is ward’s hate space btw💋)

a/n: I just want to baby him. so yeah, soft/clingy Rafe again because apparently, I can’t write anything else right now🙂

You were sitting on Rafe’s bed, patiently listening to his firm footsteps on the staircase. The room was dimly lit only by a lamp from the nightstand and you fought back an urge to fall on your back and fall asleep with your face in his pillow. 

Yet the harsh and cold voice made your head clear of your thoughts and you finally noticed your best friend walking into his own room. 

“What are you doing here?” Rafe grumbled at you as soon as he slammed the door, turned the lock and turned around, only to see you sitting on his bed.

“What?” His bloodshot eyes were burning holes into you and you innocently blinked at him, not understanding why he was acting so weird.

“I said, what–”

“Don’t yell at me.” You interrupted him calmly. “We wanted to hang out; it’s been a few days since it was just the two of us. You never complain when I come here.”

“Ye-yeah, fuck…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You watched how Rafe started pacing around the room, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He was almost shaking, his hair looking like a mess, and you would’ve thought that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m not in the mood right now, okay? We’ll do it another time. Can you leave now? I– I need to be alone.”

“No, Rafe, I’m not leaving. What happened?” Your brows furrowed, concern and nerves bubbling inside of your body as you watched how your friend and the guy you had a crush on was slowly breaking down. 

“Nothing. Nothing happened, Y/N.” He mumbled, still not staying in one place. “Just go.”

“I told you no.” 

 “Why can’t you listen to what I’m fucking telling you?!” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you as if he were trying to scare you away. Yet you remained still in your place, not even flinching. Your brows shot up in silent question,  eyes were glued to his face, and especially to the way his own eyes became more glassy and watery with every second. “Fuck, fuck—I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to yell at you.” 

“Then don’t. You know I hate it when you’re doing it, Rafe.” You continued calmly. “Sit here and tell me what happened. I see that something’s wrong. It’s been that way for a long time, right? You’re acting differently… C’mere.” You patted the bed near you, giving Rafe a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” Sitting near you on the bed and holding his head in his hands, Rafe spoke so quietly that you could barely hear him. “I’m going insane. I have issues and nobody hears me.” You slowly, as if you were touching a wounded animal, put your hand on his back, slowly moving it up and down. 

“Tell me. I’m here and I hear you. Please tell me what’s going on.” You tried to sound as soft as you could, moving a little bit closer. “You know you can trust me.”

“There’s something wrong with me. I— I have thoughts in my head that I don’t like. They’re bad. They’re wrong. I don’t want to be violent or feel these things inside of me but I c-can’t stop. They’re stronger than I am and sometimes they’re messing with my head.” Rafe’s voice cracked at the end and you felt the violent beating of your heart in your chest. He sniffed a few times, desperately trying to be strong in front of you and to hide the disgusting things that were eating him up alive. 

“Are they dangerous to others or to you?” 

“Both.”

You slowly nodded, processing the information and trying not to show the way it actually freaked you out. Did you know that Rafe struggled with anger and was not everyone's favorite person? Well, yes. He was nothing but sweet to you, though. You saw that he was a nice person, with a good heart. The only thing that he wanted in return was to feel needed, important, and loved. 

And you always gave it to him. 

But realizing that there were problems so much deeper and that he was now screaming for help because he could not live like that anymore made you wonder how you could be so stupid to not notice the signs earlier.

“Did you talk to your dad about it? Maybe anyone else? Or is it just me? ” You finally reached Rafe's face with your hand, turning him in your direction. You’ve never seen him even shed a tear, not to mention the state that he was in right now and it was shocking how much it hurt you too. The look in his pretty eyes was so desperate and so hurtful that you felt sick.

“He told me to man up. Cool, right? Can’t even do shit without disappointing him. I–I said that I have problems, but he just ignored it. He told me to rest and that it'd be okay.” He smiled at you, even though tears were still freely streaming down his face. “I just thought that maybe once he would hear me. See me. Not Sarah. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He shook his head and looked down. “So it’s only you. Nobody really cares about me anyway, so...”

“Oh, Rafe… Come here.” He wasn’t resisting when you dragged him closer to you by his arm. No, instead, he wrapped his arms around you as if his life were depending on it. You hugged Rafe back, slowly lowering both of you on the bed, until he was lying almost on top of you with his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers slowly brushing through his hair.

What you noticed is that Rafe was always cautious with physical contact. Sometimes it seemed like he tried to be closer to you, sit near you, or casually play with your hands or hair, but the next day he was completely dispant and hesitant. 

It was obvious that now Rafe lowered his guards; he let you see the damaged parts of him and he craved your touch because it was the only thing that could ground him. 

“I need help. I’m tired of this shit in my head, and I don’t want to continue ruining my life with alcohol and drugs…but it just calms everything down for some time and I don’t know how to come out of this circle.” Rafe sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around you even more, until you were closer than you'd ever been before. Your own eyes were filled with tears, but you refused to show them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a disappointment. P-please don’t walk away.” 

You knew about Rafe’s lifestyle, but despite your words, he always made it seem like not a big deal, like something fun that he does at parties. Though now it was obvious that the facade that he had built was slowly falling down and drowning him in it too. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rafe. It’s not your fault. But you do need help, darling.” You whispered, pet name rolling from your tongue faster than you could’ve processed it. “It’s important that you understand it. And I’m not leaving. It’s the last thing that should be in your head.”

“I do. I want to get clean. I want to be normal. I just don’t know how.” 

“That’s okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Your dad may not hear you, but I do and I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? Now you need to rest a little bit.” You reached the end of the bed, dragging a duvet and covering both of you with it. Rafe didn't move an inch from your warmth.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Rafe. You mean a lot to me; you know that, right? More than you think.” You whispered, soothingly brushing his blond hair again.

“You mean a lot to me too. More than you think.”