#focus on the degree now. im begging you

[plaquerat]

i have to call medicaid so i can change my insurance to something that accepts my therapy office and then i can go to therapy weekly and i can stop having the most bizarre breakdowns imaginable. i want to be offline so bad fellas.

[iloveroblox48]

thinking of katsuki who hates the summer he hates it for many reasons he hates the way he sweats more than normal making him feel extra sticky,the way he feels the need to slap everyone that talks to him,the heat making him more agitated, but he hates most how its to hot to hold you,to cuddle at night and so much more.

it started on monday when it was a scorching eighty-one degrees plus the humidity making everything extra hot not only did he have to train in this heat but then back at the dorms most of the ac units had broke so everyone was in shorts and tank tops.then came nighttime it was still hot just less humidity you and him were in his dorm laying in bed trying to sleep,comfoter tossed on the floor window up trying to help the air circulation,like any other night katsuki wanted to cuddle,he felt safe in your presence and knowing that you were there so as you were truned on your side he cuddled up behind you hand around your waist then the unthinkable happend you had pushed him off saying something along the lines of

“to hot to cuddle kats” your voice a slight whine

he had huffed out some air and turned away your backs facing each other and thats how it was all week him not being able to hold you through out the night he was soo mad.he had to complian to aizawa who had said “nothing i can do about it tough luck kid” he had been growing heated since the stupid ac had went broke so he marched right up to principal nezu’s office ready to punch the stupid mammal if he doesnt get some cold air and to cuddle his loved one right now.

“principal nezu im begging you please fix this stupid ac i cant even focus on anything with how hot it is”

“im sorry bakugou but we have other things to focus on right now besides the ac” the death stare he gave nezu was petrifying.

so the next day everyone was relieved when the ac was fixed and he was relieved to when he could finally cuddle you again

❣︎ ➝ Masterlist here!

❣︎ ➝ A/n: i live for soft katsuki ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

[silenttrxxs]

-professor! choi san x reader

Exam season the hardest time for anyone, the days melding into one as you desperately try to pass your degree, even at the lowest grade it would be something. But you had a problem. A huge handsome problem staring you in the face every single day.

Your professor. Everyone was oogling… who could blame them really it wasn’t everyday a uni would employ such a fresh face, every other professor looking like they walked out a retirement home.

This one though, god he was something else, you’d just lost the previous professor something to do with being caught with drugs or something in the uni which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The day he walked into the lecture hall it seemed the world just stopped. The entire lecture feeling like it was going on forever and it was a welcome change to the usual mundane clock watching during the previous lectures.

A snap of his fingers in your face snapped you out of your days. Forgetting where you was for a moment lost in thought… well that’s what you told everyone but really you was trying your hardest not to drool. Watching his every single move. His voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine even if he was speaking about how plants soak up the sun and some other biological nonsense that you already knew.

“Y/N attention up here please, you’re day dreaming again… dont make me have to write you up. You’re already dropping below half the students here…” he spoke your face reddening as you looked up, trying to avoid his gaze, the white shirt and glasses not helping you one tiny bit. You crossed your legs and sat up more promising to pay more attention to the lecture.

He scoffed and watched the reaction slyly and smirked to himself walking back to his desk and leaning against it, concluding the lecture for the day and dismissing everyone.

“Y/N a word please” he spoke before you could reach the door.

turning around and looking up at him.

“Yeah what’s up?” You said gripping onto you backpack and trying to will away the heat spreading across your cheeks.

“What’s going on, why is someone as smart as you failing this course, you know im not just a professor i am also human and i believe its only fair to offer help when needed” san says, smiling softly and looking at you.

You shrug unable to explain yourself.

“Im disappointed in you y/n i thought you’d be better than this… dont play coy, i know I’ve got everyone oogling but i only have eyes for one person right now” he walks over his gaze falling down travelling over your face.

Your breath hitches at the closeness, you can feel the heat radiating from your body and his. Before you could utter a word you feel your body being moved, you knees against the cold oak desk.

“Sir what are you doing” you manage to whine out a little your excitement and arousal already dripping from you. The short dress you chose to wear leaving nothing to the imagination.

Your back arches as a hand is caressing your scalp, fingers dancing along before tugging harshly. “Just take this as a private lesson, maybe after this you might focus a little better..” san says his voice low and husky, his breath hot against your ear.

“S-sir, f-fuck” you moan out as you feel a hand dropping between you both, your dress lifted up, and panties now slide to the side, his fingers dancing over your now soaked core.

“F-fuck you’re dripping darling, is this what you day dream about huh? My fingers deep inside you, bringing you closer and closer by the second” he says, his fingers pressing into you, your body clenching around him with every word.

A whine leaves your throat before you could catch it, your body falling against the table, knuckles white as you grip onto the desk, trying so hard to ground yourself as the white hot heat envelopes you.

“S-sir p-please” you moan out, not sure what you’re exactly begging for but the way his fingers are curling inside you, and the grip on your hip driving you insane.

“Good girl, you’re learning… now I want you to ride me, I want to see how much of a good listener you are” he says his cock throbbing in the right restraints of his trousers. He fumbles with the zipper freeing his aching cock and sitting in his chair. Legs spread slightly, accommodating the way his cock was stiff, aching and red, leaking with precum.

You let your mouth hang open, drool forming as you take in the sight before you. Obeying his command you find yourself discarding your bag, your legs straddling him and your tight heat enveloping his cock. The sight is unbelievably hot. You throw your head back as you feel him throbbing inside you with every clench until you bottom out.

“F-fuck o-oh my god s-sir” you moan as you feel his hands on your hips again, his nails digging deliciously into your flesh. You movements being guided, a steady rhythm being created between you both. Before it’s cut short, a hand comes to your jaw, pulling you gaze to his face, his glasses slightly down his face… his eyes filled with pure primal lust as you feel him fuck into you, hips snapping as your skin slaps together, you’re dripping now you’re sure he’s coated in your arousal. “F-fuck d-don’t stop p-please oh… oh fuck” you moan out your climax approaching before it’s cut dead. Movements halted.

“Show me. Show me if you’ve learnt anything gorgeous.. I can’t do everything for you… you got to work for it” San says his body falling back resting against the chair, his gaze falling over your body, drinking you in with pure lust.

A scream leaves your body as you move almost instantly, your hips moving and bouncing on his cock. You feel him deep inside you, his cock throbbing inside you. Your hands on his shoulders, your gaze locked with his with every single movement. The room is filled with almost pornographic noises.

“G-good girl, finally… you’ve learnt well.. now… l-let me teach you something new” San says before lifting you off him, positioning himself behind you, your body bent over the desk before pounding into you again, his hips thrusting into you with so much force the pot of pens that were sitting there now discarded on the floor. You feel him lifting your leg up to rest on the table, the new position allowing him to fuck into you harder and deeper.

You let out a scream as a wave hits you, your climax approaching so fast you see white. The growl behind you signalling another wave to course through you. “F-fuck s-sir” you moan out as he continues his pace. Flipping you over and fucking into you harder his hand coming to wrap around your throat as he watches the way you come undone. Completely and utterly wrecked by his body.

“What have we learnt baby” he says thrusting into you with each word.

You’re done your mind completely blank of all thoughts, his got you under his control. Submitted fully to him.

“O-oh my god” is all you can manage to say. Your eyes rolling back as he squeezes your throat cutting your air supply a little, his hips snapping into you with even more force.

“Oh sweetness… your fucked dumb now aren’t you… not a single thought in that pretty little head” San says his tone condescending but my god is it sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your gripping onto him, tugging at his shirt.

“P-please I’ll be a good girl… please I’m gonna come again” you moan out your eyes looking into his, you’re voice laced with longing.

“S-sir please” you moan again as you feel him throbbing inside you, signalling he is also close.

His movements halt to a stop. A strangled whine leaves your body at the feeling. You look up. His eyes are half lidded with primal fury as he grips your hair pulling you and guiding you onto your knees.

“Only good girls get to come baby…” San says before standing over you. Stroking himself in front of you and releasing over your face.

“Now answer me darling… are you going to do better” he says. Looking down at you and smirking before fumbling with his trousers and sitting down on his chair.

[megumimania]

SKIN TIGHT - geto suguru

summary: you agreed to a casual relationship with the uni fboy suguru but what happens when he starts to fall in love with you?

warnings: fwb, geto suguru x fem reader, geto x black! reader, suguru gives me such philosophy major and sociology minor vibes, fboy !suguru is a softie at heart

suguru geto is a name that both the male and female student body at your university are painfully familiar with. infamous for his short stints of relationships that often leaves the other party in distress, you successfully managed to avoid him for the first two semesters of university. that was until the day he joined your sociology class.

you remember it as if it was yesterday. that pretty smile he gave you whilst you moved your bag to let him sit next to you. the way he kept trying to talk to you even though you ignored him at every opportunity. you didn’t know why he was so persistent but eventually you caved in and gave him a chance. you figured that there had to be a reason to why so many people were obsessed with him.

well one thing led to another and now you’re half naked in his dorm room as suguru lights a cigarette, watching you fumble with the button of your jeans as you prepare to head to your afternoon class. usually you’d engage in light banter with him but these past few hookups he’s been more curious about your personal life. with him asking questions about your degree, your friends and your hobbies etc. you answered them because they were harmless surface level questions. plus it doesn’t hurt to know more about the person you’re hooking up with, right?

you pull on your sweater, feeling his eyes wonder over your body as if he’s committing it to memory before looking up at you. “do you have any plans after class tomorrow?” he asks as he rests his arm on his headboard revealing his torso that is littered with kisses and love bites. he looks at you with a neutral expression that makes it seems like he’s purely making small talk. “not much.” you reply putting your other shoe on. “why?”

“jus’ curious.” he takes another drag of his cigarette before exhaling the smoke. “let me take you out.” he asks after a moment of silence, making you still for a minute before letting out a laugh. “can’t get enough of me huh?” you wiggle your eyebrows just to tease him not missing the slight flush on the tips of his ears. “not really when you were begging for me to—” you didn’t hear the rest of suguru’s sentence as it was muffled by your hands covering his mouth.

you tenatively remove your hand from his mouth as he gives you a lazy grin. “im gonna be late for class.” you walked out of his dorm, sparing no time to hear his response. his sudden invitation to hang out worried you even more. you liked the pace you were both going at and you didn’t think there’d been any issues since you both agreed to be open and honest with each other.

class went on and you could barely focus, you were more busy trying to decipher and decode his simple invitation to hang out and the reasons behind it. the thought followed you from your class to the sanctuary of your dorm room. you eventually gave up with trying to study, collapsing on your bed as you decided that you’d get the answers out of him soon.

—

as promised, suguru met you outside of your lecture hall. his signature raven locks was pulled neatly into a bun with some strands being pulled out to frame his face. he was dressed in usual all black attire, hands stuffed in his pockets as his eyes scanned the crowd for you. he spotted you talking to a guy, that he recognised to be ino—one of the keen pledges at the frat satoru was apart of. suguru didn’t like the way ino was making you laugh and giggle which was weird since he was supposed to have zero attachments to you at all.

hearing ino crack another one of his tired jokes was enough for suguru to finally step in. “ready to go babe?” he asked taking your hand in his. aside from how natural the pet name sounded coming out of his mouth, you were also stunned at the sudden contact but decided to go along with it anyway. “sure.” you replied as coolly as possible, trying to ignore the glares you got from other students who were probably former flings of suguru.

you pulled him aside swatting his arm. “what was that for!” he rubbed his now sore arm with a pout on his lips. “i was trying to save you from his terrible jokes!” you looked at him with a sense of disbelief. “saving me by trying to play as my boyfriend?” you whisper shouted at him, not wanting to cause commotion. however it seemed that your words fell flat as suguru was lost in a trance, as his eyes hyper-fixated on your plump glossy lips.

you snapped a finger in his face trying to get his attention, “god you’re unbelievable.” you walked off, ignoring the way your heart pounded against your chest. he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to him rocking you side to side. “you know you don’t mean that, baby.” he purred softly against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. suguru was fine in small doses but having to experience all of him at once was intoxicating, you found that the mild anger you had towards him was slowly evaporating.

“‘m sorry, i couldn’t watch him crack his stupid jokes and making you laugh like that.” he said with an apologetic tone. the new level of vulnerability causing suguru’s usual hawk like eye contact to falter—looking at everything but you. “like i know we said that this was just gonna be casual and shit but like im fucking crazy about you and it’s driving me insane.” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

he bent down a little so he’d be at eye level with you. you grabbed his face gently, assessing his features. whilst his words were flattering at the end of the day, the rational part of you was unsure whether to trust them knowing his reputation. “how do i know you’re being genuine?” you asked quietly, trying to remain level headed despite the whirlwind of emotions that were brewing inside of you.

suguru understood where you were coming from. it’s hard to take his word seriously when he’s not a serious person at all romantically but he would do anything to prove the opposite, just so it would quell your doubts and anxieties that were swimming through your head. “if you let me i can show you.” he muttered softly leaning in to press his lips against yours, the cool metal from his lip ring making you shudder.

this kiss was different from all the others you had with suguru, it didn’t stem purely from lust or need, it was something much more gentler, softer and pure. you could argue that this kiss came from a place of love—even if you two were unable to see it at this stage. you pulled away, staring into his glassy onyx eyes that twinkled with something akin to joy.

if sophomore year suguru could see him right now he’d probably go into cardiac arrest. since everyone, including himself, thought he’d never settle down at all. but of course you came along and eventually proved him wrong.

[lilypatchkins]

Negai no Astro Chapter 5 Thoughts

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

First off Kuran was a little hysterical to me, first noodle arms and then innocently asking Terasu if Hibaru’s Astro is actually just a strong right arm.

He has quickly become such a lovable character. His design was already amazing, and then we find out he’s a really strong fighter and a really nice guy. He set up a whole security team for Ikebukuro basically. And now we find out that Kou’s older brother was his best friend and he takes care of him on his behalf.

Side note: Im really not sure about Kuran and whether he has an Astro or not. At first I didn’t think so because he wasn’t shown as one of the ones to receive it. Also, he didn’t seem like the type to have some sort of strong wish, but now that we know his story with Kou I’m sure he has a strong wish to protect him. I really hope he does purely because I want him to be more plot relevant.

Anyways speaking of Kou, this chapter did make me think a little better of him. Yes, he’s acting like an arrogant brat but the context of his brother makes his behavior more understandable. He was probably very young when he lost Botan, and from his perspective, he lost his dear brother to a random kid. Not to drag other series into this but it really reminded me of Kota from my hero academia. He probably also felt like that by choosing to be a hero, his brother was choosing strangers over him. So instead, he chose to walk the opposite path (probably also to protect himself from getting hurt like that again too).

Hibaru did have a point though when he reprimanded Kou for not appreciating Kuran who took care of him for all those years.

It does make me wonder if Kuran has ever like, talked to Kou about any of this, or if he just let Kou kind of do whatever he wanted while making sure he was safe from a distance.

Also, rereading the fight, I don’t think Kou actually wanted to kill Hibaru. At the very least, I don’t think he has the guts to actually do it. Otherwise, why yell at the guy to beg for his life and lecture him to be smarter? “Don’t die for a stupid cause like my brother, be smart, focus on yourself.” It makes me think Kou has mixed feelings towards Hibaru. He’s already admitted that Hibaru reminds him of Botan, and I theorized that Kou, despite what he says, did love his brother. It’s like he doesn’t want Hibaru to live the way his brother did because he doesn’t want to see someone else die over what he thinks is a stupid cause. That implies that to some degree, Kou does care about Hibaru? Or at the very least, doesn’t want to see a repeat of Botan.

Now as for Hibaru’s view of Kou, it’s very obvious that he and Terasu do not think highly of him. They think he’s a leech and I believe it’s been stated that he was the weakest in the family. But it’s also clear that they never knew about Kou and Kuran’s backstory until now, so I hope Hibaru and Kou can eventually become allies. Also because while I’m sure Kuran would not mind helping Hibaru, he won’t abandon Kou. Though at the same time, considering the type of person Hibaru is, I understand why he’s so mad at Kou. I know Hibaru says, “I won’t finish you off outta respect for Kuran!” But again I don’t think he would’ve really killed him either way. I think he just wanted to lecture Kou about loyalty and family.

It’ll be interesting to see how Kou reacts! He seems very stubborn so I don’t see him easily admitting to losing, but surely something is going to give right? (also because I really want Kuran to join them but he won’t leave Kou behind).

[soulofamy]

spoilers for tekken 8's story and character endings under the tag! read at your own disgression. these are just my thoughts on it. for transparancy, i likely wont actually be able to purchase and play the game for the foreseeable future so i just watched a playthrough of it instead

so ill start with what i liked. i really liked that, unlike tekken 7, everyone on the roster to some degree was in the main story. i like that a good healthy handful of them even tried their best to aid the efforts against kazuya. it was really nice for me especially to see shaheen get to be cool and heroic. i dont want to hear ANYONE say hes boring ever again, you hear me?

i like the character endings as well, theyre so fun and lighthearted. i liked zafinas and shaheens the most. i surprisingly likes kazuyas and juns too, it makes me think he actually DOES love his wife to an extent. not enough for me to like him as a character unfortunately though lol.

i LOVED angel jin at the end. his design imo was phenominal. i love that they crossed an ethereal, otherwordly monster with a knight and gave him golden angel wings too. it was so visually captivating, i will be looking out for a character sheet to see what distinct features i can point out. i just love that they made an angel design so unique, there was nothing predictable or boring about it.

now things i didnt like

first off, i am SO mad that they killed off zafina AND claudio so early on. they were the two i was most interested to see!! i wanted to see their dynamic together!! but at least zafinas death made a little more sense than claudios. his death did absolutely nothing for the story! i thought maybe that hyper-charged up bolt he shot was going to slowly deteriorate kazuya overtime and weaken him enough that jin could take him one on one or something but NOPE! even zafina i felt didnt need to die. was it ever explained that her life force was connected to azazel? wouldnt it make more sense if she was free to be of MORE use now that azazel isnt holding her back? i never thought i would write tekken fanfiction but they have forced my hand. justice for my faves please </3

they did nothing with leo finding his mother and that makes me sad. its cool we got his dad though, he seems like a cool guy. i wouldnt mind his dad being a new fighter.

steve just kind of dropping the whole thing with nina also upsets me because like if you were going to make the ending to that whole thing so lackluster, why introduce it at all? nina clearly doesnt care and steve just kinda carries on, what was the point? why put nina through such a traumatizing experience of having a child against her will for such little payout?

lastly, i just really could not give two rats toenails about reina im sorry 😭 like visually shes boring. her personality is boring AND annoying. and then they try and make us want more by showing us this heihachi child is ALSO a devil. like i am so tired of the mishima saga that i dont care enough to wonder who her mother is. there are SO many loose ends that havent been tied up yet, i dont want a potential tekken 9 to focus on the mishimas anymore i am on my hands and knees begging

[opartnermine]

putting together some interesting thoughts about the next media focus; normal-person victory fantasy. it’s hitting gaming communities like crack—helldivers, hunt showdown, lethal company, forever winter—and collaborative media like SCP—see the amazing Overlord fan film—and I think it’s starting to show up in books too, though I don’t read enough published fiction to have good examples. movies are the longest dev cycle cause they have to go through all the suits, so we’ll see.

gen z are tired of supermen. much as we grew up on them. and im including stuff like Percy Jackson and Harry Potter (I do genuinely think hp had more influence on the rise of superhero fiction than any comics). stories where the hero and the villain are both larger than life; where someone finds or is granted power and uses it for good by fighting people with similar power who use it for evil. it ties in with the generationally-ingrained helplessness among millenials; they grew up with 9/11 and climate change and being told they’d change the world and the moment they hit adulthood they were simultaneously barred from economic or political relevance, of course they want themself or someone else to be granted sudden fantastical power that they use to fight the unassailable enemy. but gen z are tired of that.

we, much like millennials, grew up in a world where fantastical, unassailable threats are a fact of life. the NSA spies on everyone. social media algorithms and corporate board meetings determine elections. global warming might not be beyond fixing, hypothetically, but fossil fuels companies would topple nations with mercenary armies before letting anyone cut into their profits in the name of saving the planet.

but at the same time, we live in a time of unprecedented democratization of information, and thus of power. random people become celebrities overnight, and existing celebrities post about their daily lives and you see that they’re just people—we talk about parasocial relationships and creepy stans now not because they’re new but because for the first time we’re realizing that’s bad: chappel roan screams at paparazzi and people, generally, aren’t calling her a bitch, they’re saying ‘yeah honestly fair.’ unprecedented genz turnout in the US, inarguably driven by social media given that we don’t watch or read the news, was largely responsible for the unusual Democrat victory in biden’s midterms. a 3d-printed, crowdfunded, gen-z-led revolution in Myanmar has occupied almost a third of the nation’s former borders for months now and seems to be winning.

we don’t feel powerless. gen z’s dream is a bunch of normal people, bolstered by revolutionary changes in technology, communication, social arrangements, trying and maybe succeeding to change things that once felt beyond our comprehension and ability to shift.

of course we love helldivers and warhammer and SCP. of course milsims are taking off in popularity like never before seen. of course destiny fans are begging for grounded, challenging dark ages gameplay, and the remaining Battlefield 1 servers are often set to some degree in hyperrealism mode, and despite community complaints Tarkov is going strong. of course it’s just in recent years that damage-rebalancing mods for Fallout games (making you and enemies able to kill each other near instantly) have spiked in downloads, and Elden ring with its absurdly large bosses failing against odds to squish little old you was such a phenomenon.

of course cries of ‘lisan al gaib’ and other forms of quasi-fictional nationalism rapidly became running jokes; we’re waiting for a cause to step together and put our bodies and minds behind.

that cause might end up being fascism, to be clear. im not saying any of this is inherently good, despite pride shining through my writing here.

but just as superhero media was emergent of millennial helplessness, this small uptick in homegrown, indie stories of ordinary people defeating cosmic powers against all odds really does seem to be predictive of an upcoming media trend, rooted as all mass trends are in the material conditions of contemporary life.

like. maybe im seeing ghosts here. maybe this is just because i absolutely love this stuff. but if you look at the video games in the last years that are doing something new and being loved for it—death stranding, deep rock galactic, shadow of Mordor, helldivers (yes i keep saying it, it’s just the perfect game for this zeitgeist), foxhole, signalis—it’s all this arrangement. no more destiny and overwatch, no more marvel and PJO; people want escapism where they’re just a normal person, or at least they’re just a cog in a far greater machine.

…oh my god it’s the strand type game. kojima thought it would be about connections and stuff—no no no it’s about a regular person doing their job, working with other people like them, and making a real difference against unfathomable, powerful forces. death stranding is literally this, with all the extraneous stuff boiled away, before most of these came out. what the fuck he’s a prophet. lisan al gaib Kojima, show us the way.

[adacatlovelace]

I have a bunch of unorganized thoughts about TF2 and here they are

1. TF2 is in a weird spot where it feels “Abandoned” despite having been given more support for much longer than most games

2. It was absolutely not planned for it to have as many content updates as it did. It was released during an era before consistent content updates were really a thing unless your game had a subscription model. You’d release a multiplayer game, maybe do a couple updates here and there to keep people buying, then move onto the next game you’re working on, and the games community would keep it alive with custom maps, gamemodes and whatever the hell else. With the absolute explosion of popularity that TF2 had, Valve decided to continually update it and slowly transition to the Free to Play model (Was actually one of the first games to have microtransactions and loot boxes.) Which has slowly become the model for most multiplayer games nowadays where developers will add content updates while making money off of microtransactions. 

3. There has been a gradual corrosion of the community’s involvement. Earlier in its life there were community servers, which could be moderated, but the introduction of Quickplay just about killed off most vanilla servers, as new players would be sent to big server farms that use advertisements in their MOTD and then roll the profits into buying more servers, which meant more revenue, and while the fanbase begged Valve to do something about this plugin so that they didn’t have an ad shoved in their face, Valve turned around and were publicly taken steps to support it. While this was happening, community servers without a specific draw to them like custom gamemodes were deprived of fresh players until they died out. I’ve had people tell me that quickplay was great, but I personally watched this happened. It absolutely boggles me, and my only possible explanation is that matchmaking is so bad that it made a button that would likely just put you in a skial server as its best case scenario seem good in comparison.

4. Most of TF2′s current big problems is caused by this, and I personally believe that abolishing any sort of matchmaking would fix this issue. Hackers? Moderators. Toxicity? Moderators. Lack of updates? Theres a whole world of community maps out there, and you can play more than just the 5 or so added twice, possibly three times a year. 

5. I hate the loss of the experience that community servers have. I cannot stress enough how big of a deal it was to be able to play with a specific group of people just by hopping on a server. Im having trouble putting into words the loss I feel now having every game always filled with strangers that I’ll likely never see again, instead of hopping on my server of choice and chatting with people who weren’t outright friends but familiar faces, like having a bar you frequent. I feel more isolated than ever now that the usual state of multiplayer games is wrangling what friends you already have  IF they have that game.

6. I can’t say for sure, but my guess is thats why people feel so disheartened about TF2 nowadays. Its a hollow experience compared to what it used to be and without the constant shot in the arm that updates serve to be, people are growing disillusioned. Even before CS:GO, CS 1.6 fans never complained about the lack of updates, and TF2 lost that foundation as it slowly changed into the modern games as a service model where if a game goes 1 month without an update its considered dead. 

7. I used to love Valve, like to a ridiculous degree. But then I saw them introduce pay for cosmetics in a game that already had a price tag. Then I saw them add lootboxes, which even back then I knew were predatory. Then I saw them try to monetanize mods (People roast bethesda for that but Valve had their hands in the cookie jar just as much). Yes they are a company, yes their main focus is profit, but they outright pioneered so much bad that now has become the horrible standard in the current industry.

[kjdara-side]

Y'know, even if I wouldn't take the route at the end, I completely understand that this fic isn't even really about having a happy ending.

I avoided reading this for so long because Im still recovering from CICYHN, but I can understand why reader chose to do this. We see her forgive him again and again, waiting for him to see that she isn't going to abandon him. It's in her blood to always do good and fight for the good in others, and it's why she kept fighting despite Bucky pushing everything away.

She's a hopeful spirit, no doubt. And we see her hold so much damn confidence and power when we see her confront him, hence the calmness and leaving the ring. She even threatens to kill him, but really we know it's the anger and betrayal talking to not get hurt again. It was like she was guarding her heart but in the same protective way we see her fight for others.

So really, her forgiving him at the end did signify growth. She had the strength to focus on herself and attempt find love elsewhere, even allowing herself to just be friends with Bucky. But the thing it seems like people miss is that she isn't in love with him in the same degree she was before, she knows better now! The only difference it seems is that they both made peace with the demons they were fighting back in the snap. She overcame the pain of all her losses through time, forgiveness, and strength to start over new. And isn't that what we all strive for after grieving? How do we move on from the past if we never allow ourself to restart?

And while we may never recover from this, Reader had a year to grieve and wallow. We only had less than an hour. Healing is not linear in any way, but I do find the beauty in this story is how she chose to heal herself and find courage to find happiness with Bucky. People have their own way of coping and healing, so it isn't bad that she chose Bucky at the end— we need to remember that she went no contact immediately after it happened! It's not like she begged him to love her right after! So she isn't the one to blame, at all.

They're different people now in different circumstances, as stated near the end. It did take me the whole night to process everything, but essentially I had come up with the conclusion that this is the reality of some people's life. If we judge the two of them getting back together at the end, we are missing the entirety of the story in itself. Each scene depicts so much heartbreak, betrayal, vulnerability, morality, and self-reflection. Every scene that follows one another looks to depict her stages of grief, ultimately settling on acceptance at the end—however messy it may look.

I don't know, I may be talkin out of my ass, but I can't bring myself to hate this fic even if I tried. Your writing just encapsulates the authenticity of relationships and love. There is a poetic nature to how you show growth in characters and their attempts to mend themselves into a new person. It hurts yes, but time eventually heals all wounds. We can't hold grudges or continue to live in resentment forever, it hurts no one but ourselves.

Thanks for giving us another beautiful fic. I will always be in awe of your angsty writing because I trust you to fulfill that need I have when I'm feeling masochistic LOL. ❤️

I loved you once B.B

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Masterlist

Summary: Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy but breaking your heart seemed to come naturally to him. A love story about your heartbreak,his betrayal and a chance at redemption.

19.1 k words

Content Warning: ANGST, heartbreak, cheating, mature themes, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (Pussy job, penetrative sex p in v, sad/angry sex? Rough sex mixed with a little pain. It will make sense once you read it) . Fluff, mentions of bad mental health from both Bucky and reader, graphic violence, character's death, mentions of women trafficking as well as assault.

A/N: Wow 19k words. Im sorry this took so long to finish but as you can tell it is super long as I promised. Buckle up y'all, this is sad. Also this is my first time writing a proper cheating fic so if you can/want let me know if you like it or not. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊

A/N 2: Regarding asks Also there will be an alternate ending

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics

Now  

"Fuck you," you spat the words.    

Tears fell from your eyes as they made their way down your neck, making dark spots in the collar of your red turtleneck. Even when pain was drowning you, beauty never left you. Bucky felt as if he were watching a beautiful Renaissance painting—a tragedy of sorts.   

"Is that all? I really don’t have time for this."   

He didn’t recognize his own words or the indifference they came out with. He didn’t mean to say them, but it was as if his own body was working on autopilot, and he was only a spectator to the shitshow it was causing. He wanted to stop. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to say so many things, but the only thing he was capable of was hurting you.   

"Are you kidding me? That’s all you’re going to say?"   

"What else do you want me to say? You know what happened, you saw her with your own eyes. Anything I say is either going to make you angrier or make you cry even more. Let’s just be done with this, you’ll eventually get over it."   

The sound of your hand connecting with his face put an end to his sentence. The hit didn’t feel as such, his skin barely processed it as anything more than a simple graze, but once the initial shock wore off, the sting came along. But it didn’t compare to the pain he felt in his heart when his eyes connected with yours once again.   

"I always knew you were capable of many things, but not once did I think you would ever be this cruel."   

Your eyes drifted to your hands, your right hand playing with the ring you wore in your left. A sigh left your lips, and more tears fell before you finally slid it off your finger, placing it on the table next to you.   

A bucket of iced water. Painful, burning, scorching coldness— that’s how Bucky would describe looking at you while silently breaking your engagement. His mind was telling him to get on his knees, beg, and try to fix everything he had broken. But the darkest part of him, the one that had taken over his life was assuring him you were bluffing. You couldn’t leave, you always stayed. You always fought for him, even when he didn’t deserve it.   

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes rolling with the uninterested façade he had perfected.   

"I’m done, I can’t keep doing this anymore." You turned your back, strong and determined steps leading to his apartment door.  

Please, fix this.   

His trembling hands made their way to your wrist, anything that could mend the cracks in your heart that seeped with pain, the cracks he had caused with his own selfishness. Before his fingers could even graze your skin, your hand quickly swatted away his pathetic effort to stop you.  

"God, stop being so goddamed drama—"   

"Don’t fucking touch me."   

"Don’t try to contact me ever again, I won’t answer."   

"Can you just—"   

"If I ever see you again I swear I’ll murder you. I didn’t kill you the first time we met but I swear I’ll do it if you even dare to breath in my direction."   

Your words hurt, it seemed as though each one stabbed him right through the chest in a taunting way, a reminder of how much he had screwed up. Bile rose to his throat when you recoiled at his proximity, and the hate in your eyes burned him with such force that he was sure you wouldn't wait until the next time you met.   

He deserved it either way.  

Bucky's eyes opened just as the car jolted, his heart racing against his chest, his ears buzzing. For a fraction of a second, he's confused, not remembering why he was in the car, but the fogginess of his thoughts was replaced with anxiety when he heard the tracker beeping on Sam's thigh. 

"Good, you’re awake. I think we’re almost there." Sam kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing down at the device that told him where to go. Judging by his demeanor, his friend didn’t seem as nervous as he did, if at all. It wasn’t like Sam had a reason to, he was the only one who had fucked up.  

He looked out at the vehicle, and the passing trees in the darkness of the night numbed his mind while he tried to forget about his dream. No, it wasn’t a dream, it was his worst memory to date. Usually, his nightmares were about the crimes he had committed while being the Winter Soldier, and he could blame them on his consciousness not being there with him. His own body didn’t belong to him, so he couldn’t keep blaming himself for the things HYDRA had forced him to do.  

With you, on the other hand, he could not blame anyone else but himself. His mind wasn’t tortured by a secret organization in hopes of ruining his relationship, nor was he forced to hurt the person about whom he cared the most to save thousands of lives. He did it all by himself, and now the nightmares have not only scared him but hurt him all over again.  

You started to show up in his dreams more frequently once Sam told him they needed your help. As expected, the super-soldier's first reaction was total and complete refusal. His friend thought it was a childish reaction the former winter soldier was having to avoid the awkwardness of meeting you again, only knowing your relationship had ended on bad terms without hearing the specifics. But the blue-eyed man wasn’t doing it for himself, he was doing it for you. The night you left, you made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with him, or even anything related to him, your resignation from the Avengers Team and subsequent evaporation from the face of the earth was a strong message to leave you alone.  

After a few hours of arguing, with both men going back and forth on why they did or didn't need you, Bucky finally agreed to go look for you. Lives were at stake, and no matter how hard he tried to look for a solution that avoided you, there seemed to be none. Before he could ask where to even start looking for you, Sam pulled out a device that seemed familiar to a phone. You had given Sam, and only Sam, a tracker that could find you anywhere in the world and could only be unlocked by a password you had whispered to him  

The depth of his tormenting cycle of thoughts didn’t let him register they weren’t on the road anymore until his partner stopped the vehicle. They were surrounded by tall, dense trees, and the crickets and cicadas that hid in the dark made an orchestra that filled the emptiness of the night. Sam grabbed his gear, the sound of a duffle bag being opened broke the rhythm of nature.  

"Why are we stopping here?" Bucky asked with a frown. His own duffle was placed across his back, the tinkering of the metal inside it annoying him slightly.  

His friend threw an annoyed look at him before rolling his eyes and scrambling through his belongings. "As I said like twenty minutes ago while you were brooding and having your own pity party, this thing shows her inside a building in the middle of the woods. I’d like to take a look around the area before going in blind."  

"Oh."  

Normally, the super soldier would’ve had a comeback for the annoying yet harmless insults his friend and partner would throw at him, even a snide comment. But this was different, no matter what Sam would say, he could only think of what was about to happen. So he let it slide, submerging himself in his own thoughts while Sam threw the little flying robot he nicknamed "Red Wing" into the air. Once it was hovering above them and Sam made sure to have full control of it, they began a walk that would last about thirty minutes before the device would find any signs of life.  

Sam and him were waiting somewhere near the alleged building, Sam's robot scanning the surroundings.The thumping in his chest returned, and his fingers became ice cold.He was so close. Close enough to see you, close enough to talk to you, and perhaps close enough to apologize. 

How would you react to seeing him? Would you be happy to see him? Probably not, considering the last thing you said to him was that you would kill him if he ever came near you. He knew he deserved it, but hopefully time changed your murderous resolution. Maybe even forgave him.  

Could you ever forgive him?  

A slight swat from Sam brought him back from his thoughts, silently letting him know they were ready to go. Bucky could sense it before the place was even visible, the vibrations of the music resonating through the ground. The smell of smoke, alcohol, and humanity reached his nostrils right as they saw the line of cars parked in a plain field next to what resembled a warehouse.  

To an untrained eye, it would look like a normal, unsanitary, and probably unsafe rave done by stupid people. But the polarized windows of the cars, the shine coming from the inside of the guards' jackets, and the lot of security cameras installed in the building told another story. Whatever or whoever was in there was dangerous, and as usual, you had gotten yourself in the middle of it.  

Bucky wasn’t an idiot. He knew you couldn’t stay away from helping people, no matter how hard you tried. He saw the breadcrumbs, microscopic, little clues that he could recognize as your style. A missing girl suddenly returning to her family, a kidnapped journalist in the middle of war returning to their respective embassy. A child trafficker falling from his hotel room in the twentieth floor. You had always been... effective when it came to missions, sometimes going overboard with your methods, but Tony, Steve, and himself had always guided you towards the good and righteous path that a person with your abilities was supposed to take. 

You lost all three of them in the span of a year.  

They were lucky that it was relatively easy to get inside, and even luckier that their clothes didn't draw too much attention to them. Sure, they seemed to be wearing more clothes than needed, as most people seemed to enjoy themselves topless and/or pantless, but with the darkness of the room barely being lit by the flashing blue and red lights, no one really noticed them.  

Guys, girls, and people he wasn’t sure how to label were grinding against each other. Hands touched him, pulling his jacket, and he had to push them all away, trying to make his way through the sea of people. The inside of the warehouse could pass for a functioning club, with couches, dance floors, and screens accommodating everyone inside.  

Bucky wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything like this; the debauchery that people showed shocked his old-fashioned ways. He was sure he had seen several people inside each other, whether it was fingers, tongues, or dicks, no one seemed to mind that everyone else could see them. How had you gotten yourself into the middle of this disguised orgy? What were you even doing here?  

Both men made their way to the front of the place, where a private section was installed looking over the dancefloor. Two large guys guarded the stairs that connected the lower and upper levels, allowing mostly attractive girls to ascend. Both men agreed that if you were to be found somewhere, it would undoubtedly be there. They scanned the room, looking for any way they could access the VIP level without having a pair of tits and long legs.  

He had never understood scenes in movies where they showed time slowing down. Every time he had been in a fight, whether it was as himself in the forties or as the winter soldier, everything seemed to happen too fast to process. Even the night you left, time had seemed to go at an abnormally fast pace, and by the time he could finally react the way he wanted, it had been too late.  

He never understood those scenes until he saw you walking to the protective railing surrounding the edge of the private section. Above the deafening music, the moans, and the music, he could hear your voice talking to someone else.  

It was as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your beauty had remained the same your hair, your eyes, and your lips all looked the same, yet his heart started racing just as it did all those years ago. You weren’t dressed like everyone else dancing around him, your black dress with a dangerous deep cleavage was sensuous, but it held a certain level of class that made you stand out from the crowd.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

Time moved at a slow pace, the slowest he had experienced. He was grateful for it, as it allowed him to appreciate every detail from you. The way your lips came close to the drink you had in your hand, the drumming your fingers did on top of the railing, the glint in your eyes—he knew it meant you were lost in your thoughts.   

Bucky had never been more grateful for the way time passed. Until he saw a pair of hands sliding across your waist, fingers gripping your hips so roughly, he was sure they would leave a mark on your skin. A semi-attractive man whispered words in your ear, his beard scruffing against your skin. You smirked, turning around to plaster your lips against his in a kiss that could make a pornstar blush.  

He knew you'd moved on; nearly a year had passed since the last time he saw you, and you'd probably found someone to sleep with, but he wasn't ready to watch you become someone else's. His mind was prepared to face your happiness, but his heart wasn’t. And even now, he was sure you were just tagging along with the man, using him for information for whatever mission you had gotten yourself into, yet he felt as if what remained of his heart had been ripped out of his chest.  

With strong, rough movements, the man turned you around, pressing your body against the railing. As his hand grabbed your neck, your hips grinded against his, your mouth open as you licked your lips. 

The super soldier couldn’t take it anymore, his heart begged him to stop the torture. He wasn’t even sure where Sam was, nor did he care. He cared about you, and he could only think about what he had lost. With the last of his dignity, he began to look away from you and your companion, who had leaned over to your ear once more. Except this time his eyes found Bucky’s, his fingers tightening around your neck.  

He knew. Somehow the man knew who he was and, most importantly, who you were.  

Your eyes widen slightly, searching through the sea of people dancing downstairs. But it didn't take you long to find those blue eyes you once adored. He was there, looking exactly the same as the night you left him, along with your heart.  

"I know who you are." The man whispered in your ear—a threat not so subtly hidden behind every word.  

But you couldn’t dwell long on his words because ice-cold eyes looked back at you. Ice cold eyes brought back the pain you thought you left behind, and the rage surfaced once more as you remembered the promises you made him.  

Cold metal was pressed against your neck, the edge of it grazing your skin. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm, and his hands turned into fists, making him look like he cared. Like he actually had a heart.  

He barely took two steps in your direction when the wicked smile you wore stopped him. It was sinister. It was deadly. And when you turned to the man to say something, his grip faltered as one word left your lips.  

"Good"  

Your head connected against the man’s nose, a crack let you know it was most likely broken. You barely heard the man’s yells when bullets made their way to you, a couple of them grazing your skin. The room that was once filled with hips swaying, alcohol, and moans had transformed into a frenzy of screams and people running to get out of the building.  

The crowd tried to take Bucky away; their desperate attempts at escaping dragged him away as he fought his way through the sea of people. Seconds passed, and he could hear your grunts as well as more shooting coming from the upper floor, with girls running down the stairs, some of them with splashes of blood staining their clothes.  

He didn’t know whose blood it belonged to, and that frightened him.  

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. "What the hell happened?"  

His friend had managed to make his way to him, both of them still getting pushed around. Bucky offered him a quick glance before resuming his previous task of making his way to the stairs.  

"Her cover is blown," was all the explanation Bucky offered, and somehow it was enough. Before any of them could add anything, screams came from the front door, three bulky men were making their way there while carrying very large and dangerous guns. "Take care of them, I’ll go help her," the super soldier said without leaving any room for discussion.  

When his fingers finally grabbed the banister of the stairs, Bucky was close to losing his mind. Climbing two steps at a time, he finally found himself a scene that froze him in the spot.  

You were there, your black dress ripped in some places, your makeup ruined by mascara running down your cheeks, and blood splashes tainted your flawless skin. Bucky had managed to get there just in time as you twisted a man's arm to an unnatural angle, the crack of his joint popping out of place was followed by his screams. You had managed to kill/knock out everyone except for the guy who had previously had a knife to your throat, and Bucky knew better than to think that was just a mere coincidence.  

After the last man fell to the ground, blood sputtering out of his neck, you lifted your gaze towards him. He couldn’t read you as easily as he had once been able to and he hated it. Before, he was sure he knew you better than you knew yourself, more than once already sure of your likes and dislikes before you asked him for an opinion. He had treasured those times in his mind, and the memories were as comforting as they were painful. A constant reminder of what he had lost.  

He was right there, right in front of you. The man you fell in love with when you still had a heart. The man who still had a tight grip on it and who would probably always own it. He could keep it for all you cared, your heart was tainted with memories you didn’t wish to keep.  

It was the first time both of you were this close, every scream gone as you were absorbed by your own bubble. He looked so familiar that your own body reacted the way it used to whenever you saw him. Your heart stammered in your chest, and even after so long, the butterflies in your stomach appeared for a millisecond. He was the man you had once loved, he was the man with whom you imagined a future together.  

Then, you remembered why all your hopes and dreams had been destroyed.  

Bucky noticed the hurt flashing through your face, your jaw tightening right before you made your way to him. For a moment, he thought you were about to hug him, your desperation to reach him in your long strides mirroring his as his body begged him to touch you. He wanted to apologize, beg for forgiveness at your feet, and profess the love that he wasn’t able to forget.  

Perhaps if his mind hadn't been plagued with all the things he wanted to do, he would’ve noticed your foot rising to give him a solid kick on the chest.  

The force and unexpectedness of your attack launched him back to the railing, throwing him over it. His back landed with a loud thud on the floor, fortunate enough for him, everyone else seemed to have dissipated and his fall wasn’t that high up. A second later, you jumped from the banister, landing on top of him with your knife in hand. Your knee found it’s place on his chest, feet pressing his hands flat on the surface. Before Bucky could even muster a word, the blade was pinned against his throat.  

"I told you if I ever saw you again, I would fucking kill you." 

Then  

Steve had changed so much in the years they had spent apart. His friend, who had once been the fragile little Brooklyn boy he would protect with his life, was now a fully grown man with a strength that could crush a person if he wasn’t careful enough. He was also now his protector, not from bullies that would harass him because of his own stubbornness but from a secret organization that wanted to take over the world. That and his own fractured mind.  

He had lost control once the man had given him the commands to bring back the deadly assassin they had turned him into. He remembered it all, but it had felt as if he was under water the whole time, falling deeper and deeper the more he tried to fight against it. His own body didn’t belong to him, no matter how hard he tried to control it.  

For a year, he had thought it was possible to lead a normal life; his time spent in Romania had given him false hope that he had gotten away from his captors. How foolish he had been, thinking he could ever be far away from his grasps. He wasn’t the man he was before, just a weapon designed to hurt people.  

He supposed he was lucky Steve still saw good in him, at least enough to turn against his teammates and friends to help him clear his name. And now, as they drove to one of Steve’s friends' hideouts, he couldn’t help but feel guilty about everything that was going on. If he hadn’t lost control, Steve wouldn't be a wanted criminal. If he wasn’t captured, a shit ton of innocent, good people would still be alive. If his mind had been stronger, he could’ve broken free of HYDRA's mind control.  

Maybe it would’ve been better if he had actually died when he fell from that train.  

Steve parked outside an abandoned apartment complex, it seemed no one had lived there in years. He threw a questioning eyebrow at Sam, who just shrugged before getting out of the vehicle. Another of Steve’s friends had decided to help him out of loyalty to Steve, not because he particularly liked Bucky or entirely believed in his good side.  

All three men walked inside the building, not a sound inside other than their footsteps and heavy breathing. Steve looked around for a couple of seconds before making his way to the second floor, his intuition telling him where to go. He stood in front of a door with a big C plastered on it, his friend's hand hesitating before knocking on the wood.  

After the third knock came back without an answer, Steve decided to open the door. He had called a name while crossing the threshold, looking around for any signs of life inside the apartment. Bucky was surprised to find the apartment filled with computers, blueprints, documents, and lots of military-grade equipment. Everything gave away the signs of someone working there, yet there was no one who took ownership over them.  

It was too late when Bucky heard you standing behind him, with his feet being swept by your leg and effectively knocking him down. The wooden floor amplified the echo of his fall, catching Steve and Sam’s attention. Your frame landed on top of his, gun aimed directly between his eyes.Bucky's hand reached to grab your ankle in an effort to destabilize you, but the barrel of your weapon was pressed right on his forehead.  

"I wouldn’t do it if I were you," you said coolly. "I promise you, I’ll blow your brains out before you can even land a hit."  

After your words filled the room, Bucky’s eyes finally took their chance to look at you, actually look at you.  

God, you were beautiful.  

Maybe it was only your physical beauty that had taken him by surprise, or the fact that you had taken him down so easily with just one leg movement. Or even the fact that you seemed to have no fear towards a man who was being marketed as a "dangerous and armed terrorist." Whatever it was, Bucky couldn’t deny the fact that you were the most beautiful human being he had seen.  

After a few explanations from Steve’s part and some begging for help, you released the super soldier from your hold, weapon holstered in your back. Your hand extended to help him get off the floor, and you offered him a charming but wary smile.   

You told the three men to make themselves at home and take anything they needed. Bucky had chosen to keep guard, being by himself in the top floor while looking out through a window that hid him from everyone else. He was stewing in his own complicated thoughts when he heard a knock on the wall. You were there, standing a few feet away from him with a shy smile on your face as you extended to him a cup filled with hot coffee.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

"Sorry about the whole thing holding you hostage," you said as he welcomed the cup.  

His fingers accidentally grazed against your own, and it was as if he had touched electricity itself. Heat extended from his hands all through his body, and his ability to think was thrown out of the window. He looked at you, and he couldn’t tell if you felt the same or not, but he could feel how your eyes burned him, with a curiosity behind them that was so easy to read that he was surprised you were the black ops/spy Sam had told him.  

"It’s whatever, I would’ve done the same thing if I were you." Bucky answered after a few seconds.  

He turned to look through the window again, trying to keep his thoughts in order. You settled down next to him, the warmth of your skin reaching his own. Nothing could be heard other than your breathings, not even the cars outside or the sound of the busy city that hid you. And for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt relaxed with someone he didn’t know from the past.  

"I’m James."  

He could’ve sworn he heard you smile before you gave him your name. 

Now  

"What the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?"  

The music was still on, as were the blue and red lights that lighted up the darkness in the room. Bucky could feel the breeze of your breath on his face and the smell of expensive whisky and tobacco in every word you said. He wasn’t surprised, the man that you knocked out probably tried to impress you with them.  

But behind the traces of blood, alcohol, and gunpowder, he could smell your shampoo. The same peony smell mixed with lavander filled his nostrils, and it brought him back to the many nights you had spent together. Your fingers were drawing circles on the skin of his back, and his nose was buried in your hair.  

You, on the other hand, were reminded of the suffering he caused you with every passing second.  

"I told you to stay away from me," you muttered.  

Your hand pressed the edge of the blade on his skin, and you were sure if you kept going you were going to start drawing out blood, but you couldn’t care less. Bucky Barnes had always been an expert at instilling unwanted emotions in you, and it was difficult to keep those emotions at bay right now. 

You felt anger. You felt resentment. You felt pure, long-lasting hatred.  

"Maybe I should slit your throat right now, that’ll make you stay away from me permanently."  

Your words were intimidating, filled with the same promise you had made him that fateful night. This was his chance, his chance at the apology that had died out in his throat when you closed the door behind him. This was the chance he had chased in his dreams for almost a year.  

But he couldn’t say anything.  

He loved you. God, he loved you so much. He missed seeing your face other than in the few pictures he kept or in the memories that did no justice. Because even now, as you threatened to kill him, you were a dream come true, just like the first time he saw you. 

"Say something!"  

"You’re beautiful."  

Your grip faltered on the knife, your eyebrows slightly furrowing at his words.  

No, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t come back out of nowhere, say some cheesy, basic compliment, and make the walls of hate you had built crumble. Even if he had only managed to knock down one brick, he didn't deserve it. You knew it, he knew it, and everyone else who knew what happened between you two knew it.  

Then why did your heart flutter at his words?  

"Hey," Sam said, breaking the silence, your head snapping in his direction."I know he’s an asshole, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t kill my partner."  

You look back at Bucky for a few seconds before giving up, throwing your knife to the floor. Sam leaned over, his hand extended to help Bucky get up.Your murderous eyes went from Bucky to Sams, your gaze softening at his friend.  

"I told you to only contact me in emergencies," you grumbled.  

A hiss left your lips when you touched your arm, one of the bullet wounds was still seeping blood. Bucky thought about telling you something, but this time he listened to the rational part of his brain that told him to shut the fuck up.  

"Believe me, if we had a choice, we wouldn’t have come," Sam said.  

Your eyes flickered between both men, not convinced about helping them. Well, on helping the blue eyed super soldier. A pathetic excuse for why you couldn’t help them died on your lips once you saw his blue eyes. Please, help us they begged.  

You didn’t owe him anything. You shouldn’t help him, but in the back of your head, Steve’s voice rang through. Good ol’ Steve Rogers and his everlasting moral lessons. That's what we have to do, he said. 

So you put aside your feelings because helping people mattered more than an idiot who broke your heart.  

"What do you want?" You sighed.  

"We’re looking into something... odd. A bunch of pregnant women missing, still in their early stages of pregnancy. Most of them show up dead after giving birth, but the babies are nowhere to be found."  

You shrug. "They take the kids, so?"  

It was cold, you were aware of it. But after the things you had seen, the things you had done, you were aware that people kidnapping woman for their babies wasn’t something out of the ordinary, let alone something that required Captain America to look into it. Things like that were always forgotten, pushed back into a slew of cases alongside more missing women. 

"They had traces of the super serum."  

Fuck.  

You laughed. A joyless, cynical type of laugh. Destiny, of course, had to be a jerk. 

"Well, you’re in luck. I think we’re tracking down the same people." Sam raised an eyebrow at you with a simple request for you to elaborate. "A girl showed up dead in México a couple of months ago, she’d been missing for almost a year. Autopsy showed she had a miscarriage before dying, the bleeding killed her. The remains had traces of the serum too."  

"Are you saying that—?" Sam couldn’t finish his sentence, the thought sending chills along his spine.  

"Yeah."  

The air is somber between the three of you. Sure, the flag smashers were a problem when they appeared, as you knew from all the news reports you'd seen.People with ten times the strength of a normal human being were dangerous, especially if they were associated with a terrorist organization. 

This was different, though. This was sinister.  

Groans coming from the top floor broke the eeriness that surrounded you, making you finally remember why you were here. You tore apart part of the black dress that was once pristine and wrapped it around your arm.  

"Look at this guy over there," you said, motioning behind you. "He has intel on this, he’s the one that gets the girls and delivers them."  

"Well, let’s take him in and—"  

You cut Sam off. "No. Look, you came looking for me because this is my specialty. I know how to handle guys like him, and I sure as hell know he won’t tell us shit if we take him to a precinct and threaten him with some jail time. He’s a big fish. A few phone calls and he’ll be out in no time." They knew you were right, but they didn’t like your arguments. "We do this my way, or you better pray you find them before I do."  

Sam looked hesitant. He knew what you were going to do to the man, and his good conscience chastised him for even thinking of letting you torture someone. But the rational part, the part that knew that in this case there wasn’t much of an option, knew that they needed you, and perhaps you also needed them.  

"Just, don’t kill him." Sam said before walking away.  

Compromise. You could do compromise.  

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes. 

After Sam slammed the door shut on his way out, you were reminded of the fact that you weren't alone. Bucky’s eyes were already looking at you, the same apologetic eyes you had seen before you kicked him in the chest.  

"Thanks for helping us." He spoke, thinking it was an appropriate way to break the ice, but it only managed to make you scoff.  

"Let’s make something clear, I’m not doing this for you." you spat. "I’m doing this because Sam needs my help and so we can save those innocent girls and stop any more from being taken. This doesn’t change anything between us, as soon as this is over, you go back to leaving me the fuck alone, got it?"  

Say something. Fight for her. Explain what happened, his mind begged him.  

But he couldn’t, because even if it had been almost a year since he last saw you, he was still the same coward who let you walk away without a fight.  

So he agreed.  

"Yeah."  

"Good. I’ll meet you outside." 

Then  

"Thanks for the coffee." Bucky said before taking a sip.  

Droplets of water fell from his forehead, a strand of unruly black hair was hanging on the side of his eyebrows. The towel that hung from his waist, showing his torso all the way down to that sculpted V of his abdomen, made it too difficult to concentrate on the files you were trying to organize.  

The man was hotter than the sun.  

"No problem." you smiled at him.   

You had no idea it would be the best and worst decision you'd ever made when you suggested Bucky stay with you while Steve went to rescue the others.You liked Bucky, and the few days you spent with him while Steve and the others gathered everything they needed so they could go find Zemo had been nice. Sure, he was a man of a few words, but it didn’t bother you. It was weirdly comforting to be able to enjoy someone’s company in silence. And the times he spoke, he did it out of pure curiosity, curiosity about the world, about what had happened while he was in the ice, but mostly about you.  

He asked about your cases, how you met Steve, and how you came to partner with some of the most powerful people in the world. He asked about your life, about your childhood in the orphanage, and what made you choose to help people. He asked so many questions, yet he still respected you when you didn’t want to answer some of them. He asked, not to pry, but to get to know you, and in return, when you asked him something, he was as honest as he felt comfortable being.  

And that was the problem. No matter how much you tried, you knew your days with Bucky Barnes were numbered. Ever since you were young, you knew that being in this line of work would prevent you from having a normal life. You couldn't have a normal relationship. You weren’t meant to have the love story your favorite movies portraited, the white picket fence and the family of five wasn’t in your future.  

Neither was he, maybe in the forties he would’ve came home from war and found himself a pretty girl to marry. But now, after everything he had seen and everything he had unwillingly done, he probably wouldn't want a relationship any time soon. Or maybe not at all.  

But after three weeks of being cramped up in the same little apartment, you were getting used to him. You had developed a little routine together that always ended up with a cup of coffee at the end of the day. Sometimes both of you would just sit in silence, taking in each other's company while you sipped on your cups. Other times, just like now, he would sit next to you as you watched whatever movie you had decided to put on.  

You had to cut this at the root before it became too hard to let go.  

"So, you’re going to Wakanda?"  

He sighs. "Yeah. Steve says they have someone that might be able to help with... help with my..."  

"I know." You finished for him, suddenly placing your hand on top of his. He tensed at your touch, both of you looking down at your hands before you took away yours, embarrassed at your own lack of control. "Well, if you’re not too busy there, I could go visit you sometimes."  

"You would?" he questioned.  

"If you want me, too," you shrugged, trying not to reveal your excitement. 

He looked at you, his thoughts unreadable through his face. For a moment, you thought he was going to reject your offer, but something changed in his eyes. He smiled, the faintest, littlest hint of a smile you had seen, but it was there.  

You made him smile for the first time.  

"Yeah. I’d like that."  

If someone were to ask Bucky when he first felt he could love you, it would be right now. With the dim light of the TV lighting up your face and a shy smile on your lips as you told him you were willing to travel such a long distance just to see him.  

And as you lay next to him, your head against his shoulder, you thought to yourself that maybe you could be selfish for once and allow yourself to enjoy his company a bit more. 

Now  

There were drops of water leaking out of a pipe, he could hear them from the other side of the room. Everything around him was dark, it seemed the only source of light was on top of him and the woman on the floor pleading for her life.   

"Please don’t do this," she begged with a Spanish accent. "I don’t want to die, please."   

He wanted to move, he wanted to throw away the gun in his hand, but it was like he was a spectator of his own life. His body was not his, or his breathing. Not even his heartbeat listened to the inner panic attack he was having. Nothing belonged to him.   

"Kill her," a distorted voice told him. His eyes glanced at him quickly, and he noticed the man had no face. No one around them had one.   

Everything felt like it was in slow motion. His finger moved, pressing the trigger of the gun, but he refused to give up. He had to try, even if his own consciousness was trying to kick him out, sucking him into the pool of darkness he had been resting in for a long time.   

But even if he tried for years, he couldn’t win. He was powerless.   

Broken.   

He could only witness how the other "him" obeyed. The woman's eyes changed from scared to lifeless in less than a second. A splash of crimson staining his combat boots kept his attention. He couldn’t hear what the other people in the room were saying, he didn’t exist anymore, or he didn’t want to. The sound of the water leak was deafening now. Growing louder and louder until it consumed everything around him   

He didn’t want to be awake. Not like this.   

And as he felt himself disappearing, he hoped this was the last time he came back to the surface. He would rather be surrounded by emptiness.   

Yet something interrupted him, pulling him back up.   

A woman's voice, so familiar it made his heartbeat change.   

"Bucky!"  

Bucky's eyes opened wide. His head was spinning, his breathing was rapid, and his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. The adrenaline in his system made him dizzy, and he could feel his hands shaking. And he was feeling. A lot. Scared, angry, hopeless. So many emotions constricted his chest, burying him under their weight.  

"Bucky," you repeated. His head snapped at you, showing you a pair of wide, terrified eyes.  

Your feet almost moved. A pure protective instinct filled you with dread at the fact that you couldn’t help him anymore. Your head and your heart were in conflict. In one hand your heart begged you to go to him, stroke his back as you peppered kisses along his shoulder. Then you would lie back in bed while your hands surrounded his body, your front pressed to his back in a way to say, I’m here, I love you, and everything will be alright.  

On the other hand, your brain told you to turn in the other direction. Walk away from the night terrors that plagued his mind and let him suffer in silence. He wasn't your responsibility anymore, and you shouldn't be concerned about helping him with whatever was wrong with him. 

Was it possible to hate and care about someone at the same time?  

"Nightmares?" you couldn’t help yourself from asking. 

His left hand rubbed his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips. "Yeah. Sorry if I woke you up."  

"You didn’t."  

You sat at the table in front of the couch he was lying on, a steaming cup of lavender tea between your hands. The cling of the spoon clashing against the ceramic filled the uncomfortable silence between you.  

"Where’s Sam?" he asked, sitting straight as a couple of droplets of sweat fell down his forehead.  

"He has a contact in the city. He left to meet them."  

"Oh."  

Whatever else he was about to say died on his lips. You noticed he seemed to do that often since meeting again, his eyes speaking the words he would never say. Sometimes you would catch him looking at you, the frown on his forehead deepening with the passing of time. It made you wonder if he would now be open to answering your questions.  

"He said you’re going to therapy."  

He was taken aback by your question. It probably was the first time you said more than the necessary to him. Also, it was the first time that you showed any sort of interest in his life.  

"Uh, yeah. Court mandated."  

You hummed, sipping on your tea.  

"Does it work?"  

You saw the hesitance in his eyes. The way his jaw clenched and his grip on the couch made his knuckles white made you think he was about to change the subject with a witty, bitter, or sarcastic remark, or maybe even just ignore the question at all. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did, by the end of your relationship, he was an expert in it.  

Bucky didn’t change much after all, you thought to yourself  

But he broke the silence.  

"In some ways." he started, his gaze dropping to the floor. "The nightmares don’t come as often anymore, and I don’t feel the need to shoot every asshole that drives a shitty car with a shitty exhaust pipe." You chuckled at his confession, making a slight smirk show on his face. "But she’s too much."  

"What do you mean?"  

He sighed. "She pisses me off. I hate that she keeps trying to make me feel better by just saying my life is better now and I shouldn’t feel like shit anymore. But it’s not that easy. Just like it’s not easy to follow the stupid set of rules she gave me."  

He looked up to see your reaction to his words, expecting to see the same hardened look you’ve given him the past couple of weeks. And it was just that what greeted his eyes, your lips slightly pressed together and your eyes decorated with a slight scowl that only showed up for him.  

But behind the tough exterior, he could see your eyes had softened. For a brief second, your eyes showed care and understanding to what he siad before going back to the usual void stare you gave him.  

"She sounds like a bad therapist." He shrugged in agreement, he couldn’t say anything against the truth. "She also sounds like a bitch."  

He laughed. The type of laugh that caught him off guard and made his lungs run out of air. Granted, your joke might’ve not been as funny as his laugh was giving it credit for, but he had always been fond of your bluntness.  

You couldn’t help but laugh with him too.  

Laughing with Bucky felt foreign yet so familiar at the same time. It felt like reminiscing on a memory you didn’t remember you had, a bittersweet memory that brought back the same good feeling of the memories you built together  

But moments like that couldn’t last forever. Your heart couldn’t afford to remember.  

A text message from Sam lit up your screen, saying his contact had useful information. You stood up from the table after texting him back and drank the rest of the cup's contents. 

"You should try to get some sleep, we have a long day ahead."  

His shoulders dropped slightly.  

"Yeah, you’re right. I’ll try to."  

With nothing left to say, you walked away, leaving Bucky in the loneliness of the night.   

You didn’t go right away to the room you had adopted as your own, though. He heard you going through the kitchen, a dim sound of clinking and pouring reaching him due to his enhanced hearing. He didn't think anything of it; maybe you needed more tea before going to bed. 

Your steps brought you back to him before you placed an object on the coffee table right beside him.  

A cup of lavender tea. 

Then  

"It’s kinda late to be outside, huh?"  

Bucky jolted at the sound of your voice, your presence taking him by surprise. He was completely sure that when he left a couple of hours ago his house was empty and you hadn’t sent a message of your arrival.   

Something had happened? Was someone injured? Were you in trouble?  

His questions died on his lips as you cut the space between you and him short, your arms tightly embracing him. Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, his long hair falling on your face. His hands took a second to respond, but they eventually wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest.  

You stayed like that for what felt like ages, just taking in each other's warmth. He missed you, even if he tried to deny it every time his thoughts would wander to you. He tried to convince himself that his reclusion made him miss everyone he considered a friend, and in a world where everyone seemed to want him dead, you were one of the few people he trusted.  

He had been staying in Wakanda for nearly six months, and out of those six months, you had visited him at least once every month. The duration of your trip would vary, sometimes you would stay only a few hours, with most of your time spent in his hut while sharing stories of the outside and his progress. Other times, you'd stay for days, with the longest stay being a week and a half. In those cases, he would show you the surroundings, the forest that surrounded the back of his hut or take you on a long walk alongside the river that crossed his home. Sometimes you'd sit outside and stare at the stars, your only company being the animals and the flora. 

He also came to hate every time you would leave, feeling like a part of himself was leaving with you.  

One of his hands landed on the side of your hips, the other searching for your face.Your grip on him grew tighter once his fingers brushed the skin on your face but you eventually let go, allowing his hand to guide you slightly away from him.  

"What happened?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You didn’t respond, but one look into your eyes, and he knew the answer. Whatever it was, it had affected you to the core, the broken look in your eyes could only be compared to the one he saw every time he looked at his reflection in the mirror.  

His forehead rested on yours, both your eyes closing at the contact.  

"It’s ok. I got you."  

His hand found yours as he guided you toward his bed. It wasn’t until then that he noticed you still had your tactical gear on, dirt and crystals still hiding in some places. He grabbed the buckle of your vest, his eyes asking for permission to get it off. A slight nod gave him the confirmation, beginning the process of somewhat freeing you of the events you had seen. He got rid of his own garments too, leaving you both standing in front of yourselves with only underwear covering you. He dragged you into bed, your frames covered by the light white sheets on his bed. 

Not many times had he allowed himself to think of you in a sexual manner, knowing how his body would react in a lustful way. But as he found himself looking at you with barely any clothes on, the desire was left on the back burner of his brain. You needed him. You needed his comfort, and he was more than willing to give it to you.  

He would give you anything you asked for.  

His hand rested on your face, tracing circles across your cheek, your eyes closed at the soothing action.  

"I’m sorry." Your voice trembled. He could see you wanted to say more, but words failed to come out of your mouth  

Bucky’s heart ached. He had never seen you in such a vulnerable state, and his mind was going cray at the thought of not being able to do anything to help you.  

"It’s ok, sunshine. You don’t have to talk about it."  

So you lay there, head against his chest, as he kept you between his arms, with nothing other than the sound of the crickets outside his hut surrounding you. And for the first time in a long time, you felt what being loved felt like.  

That night, you kissed him for the first time. You didn’t stop, not even the next morning when he woke you up with breakfast already made and a cup of lavender tea. 

 Now  

"Bring him to the table!" you yelled.  

Your hand swept across the surface, knocking over every piece of paper, pencil, and piece of equipment. The vibrations of the heavier objects on the concrete floors matched the beating of your heart.  

Bucky dropped Sam on the table. The man had gone unconscious on the ride to the safe house, the bullet wound that oozed liquid crimson was most likely the cause.The same crimson color now stains Bucky's clothes, and his leather gloves were also covered in a thin layer of it.  

You brought your knife to slash through his clothes, the sharp metal cutting through them as if they were butter. The hole on his shoulder seemed to have no exit, the bullet was still inside him. You were glad Sam wasn’t conscious for the next hour.  

The super soldier hovered over you for the entirety of the time you spent cleaning through the fragments that splintered from the bullet. Everything went relatively well until Sam started waking up, his body contorting in pain as you dug through his wound. Bucky brought him a bottle of vodka while you injected him with some local anesthesia.  

Hours later, the wounded man was now resting on the only bed the safehouse had, his breathing bringing great comfort as it meant he was still alive. After half a bottle of vodka and a some painkillers diluted on his IV, you were sure he wouldn’t wake up until tomorrow.  

The faucet sprayed cold water onto your palms. Your nails desperately tried to scrape away the traces of blood that still lingered in your skin, leaving red marks all across your knuckles. Dirt and dried blood were trapped underneath your fingernails, and no matter how much you tried to dig it out, it would stay right there.  

Bucky’s footsteps brought you out of your trance, the heavy sound of his combat boots felt deafening with each step he took. You tried to tune him out, focusing once again on the sound of water, but it seemed as if Bucky had made it his purpose to be as loud as possible. You held onto the sink so strongly that you were sure it would snap.  

A deep rage came from your stomach, spreading all over your body. The anger constricted your chest in such a way that you weren’t sure if somehow you were buried under a collapsed building, its weight invisibly crushing you.  

It was his fault. It was all his fault.  

You didn’t remember walking outside the bathroom, nor did you remember walking up to him and slapping away the cup of water his hand held.  

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you barked at him.  

"I—"  

"I gave you one task. You had to wait until I gave you the signal so you could come in. Not guns blazing, not punching everyone that comes your way, not drawing everyone's attention to us. Your only fucking job was to wait for the distributor to show up and wait for my goddamn signal."  

"What did you want me to do? Just stand there and do nothing?" he argued.  

You were taken aback by his response. Part of you expected him to just let you scream at him and give you the same soft eyes he always gave you when you spoke to him.You weren't expecting him to snap back at you or to defend himself. 

Maybe if things hadn’t gone sour between you two, you would’ve listened to what he said, and in return, he would’ve listened to you. But the anger was too strong to be subdued.  

"I wanted you to follow the fucking plan."  

"He was about to torture you!"  

Bucky's thoughts returned to the old factory turned whorehouse.The way you had purposefully gotten caught and how they had tied you to an exposed pipe line. He could still hear the sound of the man’s hand smashing against your cheek.  

"I can handle myself! I told you guys to stay put until the distributor was there. He knows I’m after him, and this was our only chance to catch him. And now he’s god knows where and Sam got fucking shot."  

A heartbeat passed before Bucky came close to your face. His big frame towered over you, and his breathing hit your face.  

"You’re fucking delusional if you think I was just going to let anything happen to you."  

You scoffed, "Oh, so now you care?"  

"I’ve always cared."  

You pulled away from him, your eyes rolling at his pathetic words.  

"Sure."  

Perhaps it was the fact that you had been in danger no longer than a couple of hours ago, or maybe it was the heat of the fight that had left some residues on him. Whatever it was, it made Bucky courageous enough to reach for your arm.  

"Look at me."  

You swatted him away.  

"Don’t fucking touch me."  

But this time he wasn't going down without a fight.Not again.  

"I know I was an asshole at the end of our relationship, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you anymore."  

A bitter laugh came out of you. All of this had to be some sick joke. "When you care about someone, you don’t treat them like that. You didn’t care about me, and you sure as hell didn’t love me."  

His hand tried to touch you again, and this time you let him. You were tired. Tired of fighting with him. You closed your eyes as soon as his skin came in contact with yours, his touch consuming all of your senses.  

You opened your eyes to find him staring back at you, the blue eyes that once hurt you shining the same way they did the first time you kissed him.  

"I did love you," he whispered into your lips. "I still do."  

His words burned you like someone had branded you with hot iron in the chest.Even after all this time, he could still hurt you, Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Why did he have to bring back the past you so fiercely tried to leave behind?  

"Don’t." Your lower lip quivered. "Y-you can't just break my heart and then come back into my life and just say you still love me."  

"I never stopped loving you."  

Those five words were all it took to tear down what little control you had over yourself. A year ago it would've broken you to hear them but now they only brought a deep sense of indignation. 

With a quick move, you pulled his hand away from you, your hands pushing against his chest until he hit the wall. You wanted him to hurt. You wanted to carve his heart out of his ribcage and throw it far away, maybe then he would understand what it felt like.  

"Where was your love when I needed it, huh? Where was your love when I had no one else? Where was your love when I reached for you every night but you were already gone? Where was your love when I begged you to love me, to be there for me?" Your hands were clutching his jacket, and your vision was blurred by tears."Where the fuck was your love when you brought that girl to your apartment?"  

Bucky never saw you like this, not even when he stomped on your heart with his indifference. Under the anger, the hate, and the surface indifference you showed him, he could see how broken you were. He could see how you were constantly struggling to put the pieces of yourself back together that he had torn apart. 

He hated himself for extinguishing parts of you. 

"I’m sorry."  

A lapse of judgment.  

That’s what you would tell anyone who asked you why you kissed Bucky that night. You would say that you had been blinded by the pure rage his mere presence would bring you. Or perhaps you would take the easy route and you would say that with everything that happened that night, almost being tortured and Sam getting hurt, you had acted in a primitive instict of searching comfort.  

The truth was different. You could lie to yourself and say that you didn’t needed Bucky, not after all the things he had done. You lied to yourself constantly when you told yourself you were over him. You also lied to yourself when you claimed that your one-night stands had fulfilled you in the same way that Bucky had. 

You couldn’t feel anything, not ever since you walked out of his apartment. You had tried different people, different cities. You had tried different alcohols and different drugs. You had tried anything that could help you fill the emptiness that had found a permanent home inside you. You felt nothing, not until you saw those cerulean eyes again.  

Your kiss was aggressive, your lips smashing against his with strength and your hands finding their place in the back of his head. It took a second for Bucky to kiss you back as he thought his mind was playing tricks with him. But after you pressed yourself against his chest, his body reacted on muscle memory alone, his arms surrounding your waist.  

It wasn’t what you expected, though. You thought that the specks of love that remained between you would be enough to bring back whatever it was that you were missing. Instead, you were met with the most intense hatred you've ever felt, mixed with the melancholy of what could've been. 

He tasted like the past, but he still hurt like the present.  

So you made a decision.If you couldn't bring yourself to love Bucky Barnes anymore, you would hate him with all that remained of your soul. You would hate him until both of you burned in the flames of your agony. You'd despise him until you'd ripped every part that matched the ones he'd so easily broken. 

"I hate you," you whispered between kisses. "I fucking hate you."  

Your words were daggers to his heart. His chest tightened, and his grip on you faltered for a second before he snapped out of it. This wasn’t about him. If you needed to tell him how much you despised him, he would gladly let you kill him with your words. It was the least you deserved.  

"I know," he mumbled against your lips.  

He felt your body guiding him through the room until the back of his legs hit against the couch where he would sleep. Your hands pushed against his chest, making him sit on the couch while you straddled his lap.  

Clothes flew across the room, and you found yourself tearing his shirt apart in two while he only pulled yours off.You'd worry about that later; right now, nothing was more important than feeling your skin against his. 

Your hands traveled over his chest, fingers grazing every part of his abdomen as you trailed down to his zipper. You palmed him over his jeans, his cock already hard, and you felt it twitch against the fabric with every touch you gave him. Groans left Bucky’s lips.  

"I hate you," you repeated as a mantra.  

He shouldn’t make you feel this way, but as you see his head going back when your hand opened his fly and found it’s place around his cock you felt your own desire pooling in your lower belly and the aching in your core became unbearable.  

With swift movements, Bucky got rid of his pants and his underwear while you remained on top of him. With your frame still covered by a black lace bra and your black tactical pants on, he couldn't help but feel exposed when he looked at you.Deciding he didn’t wanted to be the only one naked his hands went to the side of your hips in efforts to get you rid of the fabric but your hand swatted him away.  

Beg me, your eyes said.  

For a moment, he considered tearing your pants apart the same way you had done with his shirt. However, the seriousness behind your eyes warned him that he might end things too soon if his stubbornness got in the way. So he gave in.  

"Please, Sunshine." His hands gripped your waist, his hips grinding against your still-wrapped core, sending shivers down your spine."Please, let me see you."  

You relented, unbuttoning your pants and throwing them away with your panties. In what were the longest seconds of Bucky’s life, you unclasped your bra, finally getting rid of the last barrier your body held on to.  

You stood there, completely naked, staring at Bucky.He remembered the way your breasts felt when he held them. He remembered how soft your skin was. He remembered that if he bit on the skin of your neck, right where the jugular is, you would clench around him. He remembered. In the lonely nights when he needed some release, he would close his eyes and imagine your lips around his cock as he fisted himself in the solitude of his apartment. 

All those memories didn’t compare to watching you in the flesh, with hungry, hateful eyes on him as you walked back to straddle him again.  

His cock twitched once your legs fell to his sides, the heat of your body settling on his crotch. You sat on top of him, your wetness welcoming him once you lowered yourself. His length placed itself right between your lips, and a groan left him.  

"Fuck."  

Your hips began rocking in slow but sharp motions as he felt his cock coated with your slick. Slowly, you built up a rhythm that made both of you moan. His hands landed again on your hips, his fingers pressing on your skin in a way that was certain to leave bruises the next day. Your own hands gripped on Bucky’s biceps for stability, and you squeezed them every time you would feel him brushing against your clit.  

You felt amazing on top of him, but that wasn’t what made his heart pound against his chest.  

It was your eyes. Your eyes never left him, no matter how much pleasure you were pulling from both of you and how badly you wanted to roll your eyes as the coil inside of you tightened. Your eyes, which once showed him what love could look like, now looked at him with a simmering hatred he could not shake.  

His chest tightened at the thought of never seeing them again. The electricity that ran through his body was replaced by a deep sense of hopelessness, and the more he kept his gaze on you, the more it amplified. You must’ve sensed the change in him because your movements stopped.  

Broken eyes now stared at you with the ghost of tears in them. The anger that had driven your actions and your thoughts through all this had now subsided, allowing itself to mix with melancholy.   

I love you. I’m sorry. I miss you. His eyes said.  

I hate you. I’ll never forgive you. I wish I never met you. Yours answered.  

And in the middle of the lust that was taking place right on the couch, both of your hearts broke again.  

You pulled him back for a kiss that tasted of desperation and sorrow as tears fell from both your eyes. The saltiness of the tears bled into the kiss and mixed with it.Quickly, your hand guided his tip to your entrance. You needed him inside you like a person lost in the desert needs water. You craved him with every cell in your body, and it tore your heart apart.  

"So tight." He moaned in your mouth as you sank into him.  

The stretch of his length burned as you forced yourself to take him fully. It hurt, and even with your arousal completely covering him, you weren't prepared to take his thick length.You didn’t care though, you hoped it would make you forget your heartbreak. Bucky tried to stop you as he felt you struggling to take him in. His hands held your waist, but you shook your head before you started bouncing on him.  

You didn’t want love from him. You didn’t want tenderness or care. You wanted roughness. You wanted strength and aggressiveness until the only thing you could feel was the ache between your legs.  

The super soldier gave you what you wanted.  

Bucky’s pace was brutal, his cock hitting the sweet spot only he could reach. The sound of his hips colliding with yours filled the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing through the hallway outside.In the back of his mind, Bucky was thankful Sam was knocked out with meds so he could be spared from the obscene orchestra your bodies played.  

The pain quickly turned into pleasure. Your walls hugged him tightly, each thrust carried a strength that left you breathless. At some point your legs had given in, the only reason why you kept bouncing was the snap of his hips pushing you. He didn’t let go of you though, instead he pushed you against his chest in an embrace that surrounded you tightly.  

Your head rested against his while your hands stayed on his chest. The sadness that mixed with the pleasure numbed everything else except for the bubbling up of your release. It pained you to admit that no one else could make you feel like Bucky, you had tried to find someone who could replicate what his touch could do for you, but no one ever came close.  

You hated how much you missed him and how much you needed him.  

"I wish you would’ve stayed dead." you panted. The poison behind your words shredded his heart. He knew you were saying it to hurt him, he knew you didn’t mean it, but the conviction behind it felt like a kick in the chest. "I wish we never brought you back."  

"Me too." he finally admitted.  

Bucky felt your walls constrict around him, and he could tell you were close. He drew you in for one last kiss, the kind that took your breath away. The type of kiss that was a solace in a world of agony. The type of kiss that meant a promise that carried forever.  

You tightened around him as you came, and his thrusts slowed down as he rode you through your high. As you closed your eyes, more tears fell from the corners, so he reached out to wipe them away.Once you had recovered a little, his brutal pace came back, this time chasing his own release. You brought your lips to kiss his neck, feathery, soft kisses, and he felt his balls tightening. He was so close.  

He tried to pull out so he could fist himself to the end but you didn’t budge, instead whispering in his ear.  

"Inside."  

He came harder than he had done in the last year. You felt his cock twitching inside as he covered your walls with his cum, the mess between your release and his own dripping out of you. You kept bouncing on top of him, making sure to return the favor by guiding him all the way through the end.  

You stood up, the feeling of emptiness making you shudder when his cock left you, and his cum started leaking out of you. You turned to go find something to clean yourself up, but his metal hand stopped you. He guided you back to the couch before he walked towards the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back with a towel, and he positioned himself right between your legs.  

He cleaned you up just like he had done for so many years before.His other hand caressed your thigh as he made sure to wipe everything. And just as he always did for years, once he finished, he kissed your inner thigh, a couple of inches away from your pussy.  

Bucky threw the towel to the floor, he would worry about it in the morning.As for right now, the only thing he wanted was to hold you close. So he did. He thanked the couch was big enough to fit you both as you layed together. He pulled the blanket he used to warm himself every night over you, and his arm surrounded your waist, his grip making your back settle against his front. His left hand traced lazy circles over your stomach while the other was used as your pillow.  

For a few seconds, both of you allowed yourselves to reminisce in the past. He kissed the top of your head as you snuggled against him like you usually did. And as you felt his warmth behind you and inhaled his scent, everything seemed to be alright once again.  

Except they weren’t. Bucky wasn’t the man who made you feel secure anymore, and you weren’t the woman who trusted him with all her heart. Both of them belonged to the past.  

"I don’t love you anymore. I will never love you again." you broke the silence.  

Bucky held you tighter as his heart broke once again.  

"I don’t deserve your love." He whispered. "But I’ll still love you forever." 

Then  

Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy.   

It wasn’t all bad, though. For many years you had been together, three and a half to be exact, where you could imagine a life with. Three years where there was no one you trusted more or preferred to be with.Three years that were the happiest of your life.  

Those were a few of the reasons why he had asked you to marry him. And those were also a few of the reasons why you had said yes.  

You had told yourself at the beginning that you couldn’t get attached to him for the safety of your heart. It didn’t matter that his touch felt like home or that during the times you spent apart, his eyes would be the only comfort you would find in your dreams. He would bring more heartbreak than love.  

Oh, how right you had been.  

Unfortunately for you, the heartbreak would come in a way you couldn’t have prevented.  

The snap came and took him away from you. One second he was standing next to you, the next he was turning into dust that flew into the wind. The last thing he had said was your name and after that half the population was gone.  

The years went by in a blur. Between nights filled with drugs and alcohol and days spent cramped up in your apartment, you were wallowing in the type of sadness that the rest of the population could understand. You kept your ring in your finger, it reminding you that what your memories craved for were real.  

Bucky had been real.  

With his departure, he had also taken your heart. 

After a particularly bad night where you crashed your vehicle into a contention bar, Tony had taken it upon himself to help you, offering you a home close to his secluded one. You took it, not because you wanted to get better but because you wanted solitude. But if life had taught you anything about Tony Stark, it was that he was as stubborn as they come.  

Every morning he would bring you breakfast along with a visit from a certain little baby that always wanted to be held by you, and sometimes she would be able to bring a small smile to your face. With time, the little baby turned into a little girl that would ask for a sleepover every once in a while, and you would gladly accept the offer to allow Tony and Pepper a night alone.  

Things got better. You visited Steve and Natasha at the compound and even allowed yourself to go in missions of your own, as it turned out not even The Snap could make criminals take a break. You even went to one of Steve’s depressing support group meetings, never returning for the next one.  

You couldn’t be strong all the time, though. Some nights, when the pain was so strong that it drowned you and the grief was too powerful to keep at bay, you would find yourself staring at the hundreds of pictures you had taken of him. Most of them were of you together, but there were a few you took when he wasn’t looking. The sunset behind him as he breathed in the clean air of Wakanda, or the small smile on his face as he tasted the food he cooked for you both.Even when he was reading some of the books he kept under his bed and a few wrinkles would show on his forehead as his whole focus remained in the text, he always looked beautiful.  

With time, everything felt like a routine. Waking up alone, eating alone, going outside alone. Sleeping alone. Everything seemed to be stable, not good or bad, but just stable. You were sure this was the best you could do, or at least the best it could get.  

That is, until a ray of hope appeared. 

Time travel was the answer. Taken as a whole, it seemed like something out of a science fiction film, but it made sense.Bring the stones back and along with them everyone that had died. Surprisingly, it had worked, everyone that had been snapped away came back just as they had left. It should have been a moment of joy. It should've.  

The thing about hope is that it comes with a price. Natasha and Tony were the price to pay.  

Steve left shortly after.  

You understood him. You understood why he left everything and everyone behind to go live a life with the woman he had always loved. You would be a liar if you said you wouldn’t have done the same if you were in his position. You understood why he did it but it still hurt to know you weren’t enough of a reason to stay and live a life together.  

It seemed like you were on a streak of losing people. Wherever you turned, more people kept leaving your life. Wanda was gone, turned into the madness that grief could bring. Thor left to save other planets that needed him. Bruce... well, you weren’t sure where Bruce was, but he didn’t try to contact you.   

Everyone was gone but Sam and Bucky.  

Bucky. Your Bucky. The man you had spent the past five years crying for. The man who made you the happiest you'd ever felt.The man who felt like home.  

But he wasn't your Bucky any longer. 

This Bucky didn’t kiss you with the same tenderness he did so many years ago. Instead, he'd barely move his lips once yours touched his in what you'd call a mediocre peck.He also never initiated a kiss, it was you who always reached out for him.  

This Bucky didn’t held you at night. Instead, he'd turn around, his back to you, and even if you reached for him between dreams, he'd guide your hand back to your side of the bed.Some nights, he would even choose to sleep on the floor of the living room when he thought you were asleep. It was as if the thought of touching you seemed appalling to him.  

This Bucky never hugged you. 

This Bucky never talked to you with love  only with annoyance and indifference.  

This Bucky never woke you up with breakfast.  

This Bucky never tried to sleep with you.  

This Bucky never said I love you.  

Because this Bucky didn’t love you.  

But you held hope, foolishly. Every day you tried to talk to him, show him in every possible way that you were still here with him. Every day you tried to make things better between you, you poured your heart and soul to try to fix what you didn’t even know was broken.  

Things got worse a couple of months later.   

As it turned out, time had taken a toll on Steve’s body, and one night he went to bed and never woke up. You found it a bit ironic the man out of time had finally run out of time.  

His funeral was held on a sunny spring afternoon. People from all over the world showed up to say their final goodbyes to the man who had saved the world so many times. Friends, people he had saved, and heroes paid their respects to him. The first super soldier had finally been put to rest.  

After everyone had cleared out, you went back to drop one last token for his departure. It was a picture of the both of you. Steve’s arm hung over your shoulders while both of you held a couple of beers. It had been the first time you had seen Steve outside of work related situations. That was the beginning of your friendship.  

As you got back to his tombstone, you saw Bucky standing in front of it. His eyes were void of any expression, and he didn’t seem to be talking to Steve’s grave either. Bucky was just there, staring at the place where his best friend was buried.  

He didn’t seem to notice when you stood next to him, nothing in his body gave any signs of acknowledgement. You gave him a couple of minutes before you reached for his hand. You knew that, even if he didn’t show it, he was in great pain. He had lost his last connection to the life he had once lived.  

You wanted to be there to help him through his pain.  

The contact only lasted a few seconds. Your touch surprised him, as he had jolted once your skin grazed his own. He turned his head to the side to give you a glare that you’ve never seen before. His eyes had been filled with pain, as you guessed, but they also carried hatred and disdain. He must’ve seen your expression, because a second later his eyes changed to a neutral expression.  

"What are you doing here?" he muttered.  

The shock of his stare lingered in you for a moment, but you quickly returned to yourself, a friendly smile on your face."I came to leave a little parting gift."  

He hummed in acknowledgement, not sparing another glance at you as you put the photograph against the headstone, right in between the dozens of flowers that decorated it. Both of you stayed silent after that, the sounds of the birds and the faint rumbling of cars were the only sounds keeping you company. It was peaceful. It was good. Just the two of you enjoying a moment's calmness in silence. 

For a few moments, you felt comfortable next to him. The first time in months since he came back. But good moments like that never lasted long.  

Without notice, he turned around. Long, desperate strides guided him towards the exit of the graveyard. He wanted to create distance between you and him, find somewhere that was as far away from you as he could be. You felt how you were losing him.  

But you fought for him, even when he seemed to not deserve it.  

"Bucky." You called for him. He stopped in his tracks, but he didn’t turn around, so you took that as a sign to keep going. "I know you’re hurting right now, I am too, but I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you."  

He didn’t answer for a few seconds, and you thought you had made a breakthrough. Maybe this was the time when things went uphill. This was the little push he needed to start healing and perhaps to try to rebuild the bridges that had burned. This was the little thread of hope you'd hung up on.  

You were wrong.  

"You have no idea how I feel," he said before leaving.  

That night you came back to your cabin, and Bucky’s things were gone. The only thing left was a note that rested in the middle of the bed.  

I found an apartment in the city. I need space.  

You didn’t see him for a couple of months after that. You considered tracking him down but ultimately gave up as he had asked for space. He needed time on his own, and you could give it to him. You would give him anything he asked for.  

You kept your word until Strange came to visit you, announcing news about Wanda. She was dead.  

You barely remembered tracking down his address or making your way there. It wasn’t until you were facing his door that you realized what you had done. He asked for space but in that moment, you couldn’t give it to him. You needed your Bucky.  

Knock, knock, knock.  

It was late in the night, and you could hear the TV going on in the living room. He had to be home. After a few minutes without an answer, you knocked again, but the only thing that welcomed you was silence.  

"Bucky," you called. Your voice was broken, you tried to fight the tears away, but saying his name broke what little self-control you had left. "Please open the door."  

You rested your forehead against the door, finally allowing yourself to feel everything you had been pushing back ever since the fight with Thanos. Pain, grief, loneliness, hatred, sadness, despair. A cocktail of emotions ran through you in an overwhelming way and seemed to want to drown you.  

"I know you’re in there." You cried. The tears that ran down your face landed on the floor. "I just— I know I said I could be strong for the both of us, but... I need you."  

You knocked on the door again, this time with the side of your fist. The desperate sound of your knocking bounced through the walls of the deserted hallway.  

"Please Bucky, please open the door. Wanda is dead." Your own cries stopped you from talking, the hole in your chest seemed to get bigger and bigger with each passing second. "Nat, Tony, Steve, Wanda. All of them are dead, and I—I can’t. I can’t keep losing people. I can’t lose you."  

You couldn’t do this alone, not anymore. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.  

"I love you. God, I love you so much. I know you want space, but right now I need your love, Bucky. I need you to love me like you used to. Please love me." You begged.  

And you waited. You waited for what seemed like hours, but it probably was just thirty minutes until you accepted he wasn’t coming out.  

 You left with half a heart that night.  

Two weeks later, you came back to his apartment, ready to demand an explanation. Your love for him was strong, but you needed him to talk to you. You were ready to fight for your future. You were ready to fight for your love.  

"Bucky!" you yelled as you knocked aggressively. "Bucky, open the fucking door!"  

The door didn’t take long to open. It surprised you, your confidence and anger faltered for a second. This was a sign, perhaps it was him being ready to fight for you too. This was him showing you he still loved you.  

Except the person who opened the door wasn’t Bucky.  

It was a girl. A short brunette that was covered by Bucky’s black T-shirt and nothing more.  

"Hi."  

You wanted to scream. You wanted to burst into tears. You wanted to burn the world and leave everything behind. You wanted to die. But the only thing you could do was stay there and stare at the girl.  

"Umm, Bucky is not here." She said awkwardly, your intense stared made her uncomfortable.  

"Do you know where he is?" You questioned her. The words came out rougher than you intended, but as the heartbreak and despair set in, you couldn't care less. 

"No. I, um, when I woke up he was already gone." She pulled the hem of the t-shirt down in an effort to convey her nervousness, but it only infuriated you more. "Are you a friend of his?"  

You wanted to laugh. God, this couldn’t be happening.  

"Yeah, of sorts."  

"I can let you in so we can wait for him, but I have to leave in like twenty minutes."  

"You can’t call him?" you asked, bitterly. You knew Bucky had gotten a new phone but he never gave you his number.  

Her face blushed before she answered. "No, uh. We met last night, and he didn’t give me his number.  

"Oh."  

You didn’t know what would be worse, if he had seen this girl ever since he left your cabin or the fact that he had a one night stand with a random girl. It didn’t matter, though, Bucky Barnes had crushed your heart.  

The girl, whose name was Clara, kept her word, leaving minutes later as she had to go to work. She seemed like a nice girl who had no idea the man she had slept with was engaged. And perhaps in another world you would’ve been nicer to her if your heart hadn’t collapsed in on itself when she opened the door. Maybe she was a little naïve, as she let you stay inside the apartment so you could wait on Bucky. She had also asked you to give him her number, the digits scribbled on a piece of paper.  

You broke down the moment she closed the door behind her. You thought of trashing the place, breaking every piece of furniture he owned, and burning all his clothes in a pit in the middle of his living room. You imagined yourself hurling the stupid leather jacket he seemed to be fond of lately.You also thought about settling for burning everything to the crisp, wanting to see the look on his eyes once he saw his apartment consumed by flames.  

You didn’t do any of those things, though; instead, you waited. This time, hours actually went by, the once bright morning turned into the darkness of the night, and you never moved from your spot on the couch, not even to turn on the lights.  

Bucky came back to his apartment around 11 p.m. When he noticed the apartments' lack of lightning, he felt relieved not to have to deal with the girl he had taken home the night before. By the looks of it, she left a while ago.  

He turned on the light before taking of his jacket, placing it on the coat hanger next to the door.As he walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, he tossed his keys on the counter.He had to change the sheets on his bed and do laundry tomorrow. The glass was half full when a voice behind him spoke.  

"You have a nice place here."  

The glass dropped from his hands into the kitchen sink. His head snapped quickly towards you, finding you seated in the middle of his couch. He turned off the sink, before making his way toward you. You couldn’t be here, not today of all days.  

"How the hell did you get in here?" he barked.  

He didn’t mean it like that, not in the way it sounded. He wasn’t angry at you being inside his apartment, he was scared. Scared that you had arrived at the wrong time and seen something you weren’t meant to see.  

He finally stood in front of you and saw it. Your nose was slightly puffy and red, like you had been crying for some time. Your shoulders were slumped, defeat washing over your posture. But the thing that hurt the most to see was the pain behind your eyes. It wasn’t the normal type of pain of loss or grief as you had experienced these past months. No, it was something else.  

It was the pain of heartbreak and betrayal.  

It couldn’t be.  

You couldn't have been here when she was still in his house. There was no way, life could not hate him this way. It had to be something else that broke your heart, he had hurt you many times this past couple of months, and today was probably the day it all crashed down. It had to be that.  

"Clara let me in."  

No.  

"Nice girl, she left her number for you."  

You knew, you had seen the girl who was apparently named Clara, he didn’t really remember it. Bucky knew he had to do something, anything that could save your relationship. Perhaps if he begged you not to leave him, to let him explain everything that had been going on with him, and if he spent the rest of his days making it up to you, then you would stay. Maybe you could forgive him.  

He didn’t do any of that, though. The same thoughtless attitude washed over him like it had done ever since he came back. It was as if his brain forced him to act this way in order to protect his own heart in the long run. 

Instead of doing everything he could to fix this, he shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.  

"How long?" you asked. Bucky could see your eyes watering as you tried to keep yourself together. He hated himself. "How long have you been cheating on me?"  

His mouth answered without his permission.  

"Does it even matter?"  

Maybe he was right. Maybe it the answer wouldn’t change the way you were feeling; if anything, it was bound to hurt you more. But a part of you wanted to know the truth, to extinguish the other half of your heart.  

You didn’t budge, so Bucky finally answered, not before rolling his eyes. "She’s the only one. I met her yesterday in a bar. "He shrugged. "It just happened."  

You knew the answer, yet it still hit you with the force of a thousand bricks. He admitted it. He fucking admitted it and he didn’t even show a single morsel of remorse. There weren't any apologies or begs, no promises, or big romantic and sorrowful speeches. You could feel your own love being smothered, the flames that had once brought so much warmth to your soul were replaced by cold and emptiness.  

Bucky Barnes didn’t love you anymore. 

Now  

Bruises covered your body as well as new injuries that would probably give you more scars. Dirt and blood slid down the drain, exhaustion settling in as your muscles relaxed. The droplets of water fell against your body, washing away everything that had happened today.  

You found the intel, you knew every single name of everyone involved with the heinous experiments you were chasing.  

You had almost died, one of the guys Bucky and you had cornered, had a bomb attached to his chest. You tried to stop him, your gun pointing at his head, but you were too slow. The explosion shook the entire structure, causing a chain collapse of the floors around you. 

Bucky had jumped to protect you, his body acting as a human shield, deflecting some of the impact.His flesh arm had a large metal piece embedded in it, as well as some burns on his back. The explosion had knocked you both out of the air, and the resulting wave had thrown you both across the room. 

As you tried to shake away the confusion and the ringing from your ears, you felt his hand find its place along your face and travel to your stomach. As he scanned you, blue eyes looked at you with fogginess but also deep concern. 

"You ok?" he had whispered.  

You nodded, but your mind was still fuzzy, perhaps you had hit your head, but you couldn’t remember much.  

But you remembered the desperation. You remembered everything crumbling apart as you tried to make your way to the exit. You remembered Sam’s voice screaming through your earpieces to get the fuck out of there. You remembered Bucky's hand always keeping you safe, guiding you through the clouds of cement and smoke.  

You also remembered how Bucky’s steps faltered before collapsing. Neither of you had noticed he had a second piece of metal scrap buried between his ribs. If he had removed it, his enhanced healing would have taken care of it, but the extenuating movements had caused damage to his lungs, bleeding, and a lack of oxygen, causing him to pass out. 

You remembered screaming for Sam’s help, begging him to help you save Bucky. You remembered the tears falling from your eyes as you tried to pull Bucky to safety, begging him not to die, begging him to wake up. You remembered the fire catching up to you, it’s warmth burning your skin. You wanted to kill Bucky, you would be happy if you never seen his face again, dance on top of his grave as you celebrated the end of his existance.  

Then why were you fighting so hard to save him?  

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. You can’t do this to me!"  

"Bucky wake the fuck up!"  

"Please! I can’t lose you like this!"  

Fortunately, Sam came for you, him and all his Captain America glory had saved both of you, his wings protecting all three of you as you carried Bucky outside. You had barely gone a few steps ahead when the building finally set one last explosion, ending with everything on it's way.All three of you landed on the floor with a thud as the shock wave reached you.  

You focused your attention on Bucky's wound, which was already healing, but his lack of response worried you.His breathing was barely existent, and his heartbeat was decreasing. You had straddled his lap and began performing CPR on him while asking Sam to go fetch the adrenaline shot you stored in the vehicle. You had punctured Bucky's chest with it, and after a few seconds, he had woken up.  

You remembered clinging to him as he tried to sit straight, the desperation finally gone from your body.  

The body behind you wrapped his hands along your waist, pulling you out of your memories and spreading the soap he had covered you with. Bucky's fingers traced all the way down your body, removing every trace of stress. 

After everything happened, Sam told you to go back to the safehouse while he met with Joaquin to try and start locating people with the intel you had gathered. You thought about fighting him, but one look at Bucky and any fight you had left was done.  

A knowing look from Sam told you this wasn’t just to let both of you rest and get cleaned up. It was a second chance.  A second chance at the talk you had avoided to had with Bucky ever since that night you slept together.  

You drove back to the safehouse, and once you had gotten inside, everything crumbled apart inside of you. As you reached out to Bucky, your tears had fallen, your hand lingering in his fleshy arm, right where his wound was.His hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing the stream of blood that fell from your eyebrow. In the silence of the room, no words were exchanged, but both your hearts understood.  

Just for today, you would allow yourselves to comfort each other.  

His lips peppered kisses along your shoulder as he cleaned you, his lips sometimes finding your neck or your lips when you would press yourself against him. As you spread the shampoo over his head, your fingers massaged his scalp with the tenderness he had missed, his eyes closing every time you hit the right spot. 

After drying yourselves and changing into new clothes, you both layed on the bed, covered over the head with the thin white sheet you had. You faced each other, blue eyes meeting yours. Your fingers found his face as you traced along every crevice and line you hadn’t seen before. Bucky appeared to have aged years in the time you hadn't seen him, but he remained as beautiful as ever. 

Your heart ached in your chest, and you couldn’t fight it anymore. You had denied yourself the other feelings that remained inside of you other than hate and betrayal, but today, as death seemed to call for both of you, it was clear you didn’t want Bucky Barnes to die. A part of you hated him so deeply you weren’t sure you would be able to stop, but no matter how strong the hatred was, you were sure a part of you still loved him.  

However, that part of you was broken. Battered and bruised to death by his own doing but it was still there. It was locked inside the thousand-foot wall you had built around it to keep it safe. Refusing to ask questions, refusing to talk to him, and refusing to admit the pain you were in. But in doing so you hadn’t given yourself the opportunity to heal. To move on.  

So you allowed yourself to feel and to talk. For both your sake and his. 

"Why did you do it?" you broke the silence. His breathing faltered as your hand retracted back to your side. "Why did you hurt me like that?"  

Bucky struggled to find the right words. You were asking him the same question he had asked himself for many, many nights. He asked himself that question when he wouldn’t reach for you at night. He asked himself that question when he didn’t open the door for you.  

He asked himself that question when you walked out of his life.  

You deserved the truth. The whole, unapologetic, heartfelt truth. So he gave it to you.  

"The first time I came back to myself, after fighting Steve in the helicarrier, I realized the world had moved on without me. My plans, my family, and the people I knew were all left in the past. They all moved on without me, everyone was gone except for Steve. I had a plan, after the war I would go back and find myself a beautiful girl to marry." A sad smile posed on his lips as he reminisced. "I wanted the white picket fence and three kids package. Cookouts with my family and friends while I was still a war hero. But all of that was gone the moment I woke up in a time that wasn’t mine. My dreams were gone."  

He paused before reaching for your face, his eyes closing before opening again, tears streaming down his cheeks."Ever since I woke up, I was a man drifting in a time that wasn’t mine, in a life that wasn’t mine. I didn’t have any dreams, or aspirations other than to survive and perhaps discover the truth. Nothing made sense to me, not until I met you." His thumb wiped away the tears you didn’t know they were falling. "You were the very first person, aside from Steve, that was kind to me. You talked to me, listened to what I had to say. You showed me what this new world was about, how to survive in it, and above all, you never doubted my innocence. It wasn’t because you knew me like Steve did, or because he had asked you as a favor. You were my friend, the very first I made when I was lost. And along the way, you turned into more, you were my new dream. I fell in love with you, and suddenly it didn’t matter that I wasn’t supposed to be here, or what it could’ve been because with you, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere."  

A sob escaped you, his words burning your heart, branding them with the love you once felt for him. The heartbreak and the pain came once again, but it felt different. It was comforting in a way that scared you, terrified you. You knew he had loved you once, but you had stored those memories far away where they couldn’t hurt you. Because it was easier to tell yourself that Bucky had never actually loved you than to think he had loved you and had still betrayed you.  

"But no matter how much time passed or how loved or comfortable I felt, I was still scared. I was terrified. Terrified of the same thing happening again. Every day, I'd tell myself, 'Something is going to happen, something is going to take me away from you, and when I come back, another hundred years will have passed.' And it did happen. When Thanos snapped me away, I came back, and to me only seconds had passed, but for you it was five years. Everything had changed again, even you. There was this sadness that seemed to have nested behind your eyes every time you looked at me. And every time I looked at you, I could see how much you had suffered because of me, it was my fault, and I couldn’t do anything about it."  

"It wasn’t your fault." You tried to argue, but his words interrupted you.  

"I felt like it was. I felt like I must’ve had some sort of curse that would always take me away from what made me the happiest, and in return, I would hurt everyone around me with it. I had died once again and the world kept going, once again. And I tried really hard to fight those thoughts, but it was as if a cloud of darkness would whisper to me that I didn't belong here anymore.That everything had changed once again, and it would happen again and again and again until I finally died. And I didn't know what to do; it was as if this voice was drowning me, washing away every ounce of happiness I had left inside me until all that remained was anger and resentment." 

His voice had broken, as had his ability to hold back the tears.He had buried this for so long, too embarrassed to say them aloud, to admit how he had messed up everything because he was afraid.He wasn’t the man who had sworn to protect you against everything, he was a coward. A coward who had let his own fear hurt you in ways he could never fix.  

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." Bucky kissed your forehead. "You didn’t deserve any of what I did to you, and I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for doing that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, I’m sorry I pushed you away when all you did was trying to help me. I’m sorry I slept with someone else. I'm sorry I messed everything up because the truth is, you have been the best thing that has ever happened to me, past and present, and if I had to go through all of the pain, torture, and heartbreak all over again just to meet you, I would." 

You stayed there in silence for minutes. Neither of you dared say anything else that would break the silence. Both your hearts had been through a lot today, from the threats of death to the realizations of love and pain that had been confessed. But amongst the suffering and the torment, both of your hearts began to heal, and the pieces that had been ripped apart came back to where they belonged.  

You took his hands into yours, your lips kissing his knuckles. "I don’t know if I could ever forgive you for what you did." Bucky’s eyes closed in ache, he knew it was a possibility, but it still hurt to know there was no hope, but your words stopped him from spiraling. "But I would like to try."  

Hope. A tiny silver of hope. 

"Do you think there is a chance for us in the future?"  

You considered it. Your mind and your heart still pulling towards different directions but none of them letting you decide. Would you be willing to risk your heart once again for Bucky Barnes, or has the damage been too great to be fixed and covered? "I don’t know."  

"That’s ok. I'm not going to ask about it again unless you want me to." 

He kissed you one last time. His lips still had a subtle taste of smoke and burned, but above it was something overpowering, something both of you felt as he deepened the kiss. You both tasted redemption and forgiveness. 

Forever 

"Thanks for helping me."  

"Don’t thank me, I’m only doing it for the beer."  

Bucky and you chuckled at his poor attempt at a joke, your footsteps echoing in the half-empty apartment. A couple of seconds later, your mattress landed with a loud thud in your bedroom, making you happy to be finally done. You threw yourself on the bed, Bucky following you close behind, his heaviness bouncing you off. You turned to your side, resting your head on your hand, and he replicated your pose.  

It had been a year and a half since you decided to bring Bucky back into your life, and things had changed dramatically since then.You stopped doing solo missions and moved to New York, where you split your time between assisting Sam and Bucky with their shenanigans and volunteering at the woman's shelter Sam had connected you with. 

In the beginning, it was difficult to adapt to a tamer lifestyle than the one you had lived in the past year, but listening to all those women, the things they had been through, showed you that sometimes the thing people need to start healing is to have someone along the way.  

Bucky and you had become friends, just as you had been when you first met. It took time to get back to the beginning, but soon you found out how much you needed him as a friend, not a lover or a soulmate but just someone with whom you could talk. And, over the course of the many nights you spent talking, forgiveness found its way into your heart.You didn’t forget the past between both of you, but along the way there was understanding and care.  

"How was your date?"  

You shrug. "It was ok, not that great to be honest." 

During this time you had gone on a couple of dates, even went out with a guy for a couple of months, and since you and Bucky were ‘just friends’ you thought it would be uncomfortable to talk to him about them. But he had developed a habit of surprising you, and as it turned out, he was okay with it. When you asked why he was okay with it, his response surprised you. 

"I love you, I’ll always love you. But if you need me as a friend and nothing more, then I’ll be your friend."  

Your heart was still reluctant about him, after all, pain is a thing you can hardly forget. That had been the reason why you had tried to find someone else. Someone who could make you laugh as hard as he did, someone who could make you blush with just a cocky smile, someone who could calm you down and make everything better by simply holding you close at night.Someone who could make you happy. But all of them failed, because they weren’t Bucky Batnes.  

No one ever compared to Bucky Barnes, because after all the lies, heartbreak, and death surrounding you, he was still the only person who felt like home.  

Blue eyes stared at you and all you could feel was your heart racing. He was the man you had once loved and he had betrayed you, but time had mended your heart. The part of you that hated him was gone, and instead the love you felt for him came back, maybe not as strong as it once was but it didn’t matter. Your love was willing to build itself up, your love was willing to let him in one last time.  

"Ask me" you uttered. Your voice was so quiet that you thought he wouldn't hear you, but his puzzled expression told you otherwise. 

"What?"  

Your hand grabbed his, your thumb was drawing circles on his skin.  

"Bucky, ask me."  

Bucky’s heart stopped. A part of him had always told him that you would never want him back, and he couldn't blame you. He had hurt you in so many ways that he could never forgive himself. He had been sure the best he could have from you was friendship, and he had made his peace with it. Having you as only a friend was better than not having you at all.  

But you were giving him an opportunity, and he would be damned if he didn’t take it.  

"Would you—" he paused, clearing his throat.The nervousness inside him erased his ability to speak. "Would you like to go out for dinner? As in a date?"  

You made it seem as if you were thinking about it, but he didn’t worry about it. He knew your answer already.  

"Yeah, I guess I can make time for one date."  

You smiled. You gave him your biggest, most genuine smile in a long time.He smiled too.  

Loving Bucky Barnes hadn’t been easy. But as you both lay in your beds, his hands caressing your face and new hope brewing between you, your heart told you that this time would be different. 

He wasn't the same tormented man from another time you'd fallen in love with, and you weren't the same broken but hopeful girl he'd loved with all his heart.You both had hurt each other, but you had also grown, both of you in your own ways, and yet destiny had brought you back together.  

This time, neither of you was scared. 

This time, loving him would come as easily as breathing.

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[cherubicwitch]

want to be desired and desirable but I also am thoroughly repulsed by my own being and existence, feeling as though I’m simply a tangled mess of underprocessed emotions that will never see the light of healing and acceptance. im guilty for existing, everything will always be my fault. I am both never good enough and yet too capable to not be used. have two degrees yet part-time jobs elude me. always a second choice. can’t even consume any kind of spicy media without wanting to tear out my insides bc I can’t help but to compare myself to everyone and everything around me. constant nagging thought of “I’m sure that she’s much hotter than me/thicker than me/sexier than me/more interesting than me/not as weird as me/softer than me/quieter than me” every time and it sticks in my brain as I think of more stupid shit that I thought I was done being upset about. I’m only just convenient and nice and subservient and I don’t know how to be any other way, so I sit. and wish that a tragedy out of my control takes me away so I can be done. so I can be a good dead wife a good dead sister a good dead daughter a good dead granddaughter. so everyone’s expectations of me can go away and no longer apply to me. so I don’t have to feel like I’m drowning and numb and yet overwhelmed with every emotion that a human can possibly bear all at the same time. so I can probably finally get an apology from someone as they stare down at my grave, maybe someone will say it out loud maybe someone will mean it maybe someone will beg for my forgiveness bc they know they hurt me. as a subservient kind and forgiving woman, no one feels like they really need to apologize bc I do forgive. and I always will but I just want someone to feel bad for hurting me and wronging me and I don’t think I’ve gotten very many apologies ever in my life. I’m supposed to just move on and forgive but where is remorse? no one is ever sorry for what they did, just sorry for getting caught or sorry that I felt that way. idk I have too much in my head and so much abuse from years that I’m trying to undo my horrible bad habits but fuck is this hard. it’d be so much easier to bury myself. I don’t know if I deserve any of this. I hurt people too from being a constant victim and passenger in my own life. I’m trying to fix that but it comes with being more connected with your emotions and not just pushing them aside and pretending they don’t exist bc you can focus on something or someone else. so now I’m trying to let myself feel things but holy shit it’s so much and these emotions are so big, idk what to do with them. but then I feel guilty for feeling. then I shut it down again and apologize for my outburst(s) and try to go back to normal bc I’m sure no one else around me wants to figure my bullshit out either. everyone else has their own problems, I shouldn’t burden them with me and my stupid emotions and issues.

[sombreboy]

Split↬snakehybrid!pjm

⤍18+ ⤍pairing: snakehybrid!pjm x female reader ⤍genre: pwp smut, hybrid, fluff ⤍word count: 3.9k ⤍warnings: profanity, jimin has a cute hiss/lisp, neither is sub or dom in this but jimin is pretty whiny and soft but so is y/n haha ig they’re just whiny for eachother, blowjob, pussy eating with that dextrous split tongue, light breathplay, Jimin has two BIG cocks im not even sorry for this one, double penetration (yes it anatomically works in this world we’re all monsterfuckers here), double creampie? is it even called creampie in the ass too...Just, a lot of cum, biting, mentions of blood, fluffy ending. A/N: Enjoy this surprise. I know many of you wanted this. I worked really hard on it, so please praise me with your love. As always, thank you for reading my filth. xoxo

“Jimin? What are you doing--”

You were unable to finish your sentence before his pillowy lips found purchase on yours, hungrily devouring your mouth with a newfound aggression that contrasted his normally sweet, gentle behavior. A whimper escaped your throat that the snake hybrid gladly swallowed, a rumbling groan erupting in the core of his chest in response to his favorite sound.

He pulled back momentarily, his hot breath fanning your face as it lingered close. Those intense eyes were staring straight through you like scorching razorblades, pupils shrunk into thin slits of focus. He only had eyes for you, you, you in this very moment-- and there was only one thing he desired. And you knew exactly what it was, and just the thought of what he seemed to have in mind had your body immediately reacting accordingly, heating up several degrees until your skin felt flushed hot.

Jimin was sensitive to changes in temperature, and loved how he was able to trigger your flesh to heat up for him like his own personal source of warmth. But nothing compared to the comforting, maddening heat beneath your skin.

“Baby… You know exactly what I’m doing.” He murmurs against the skin of your jawline, smoothing the button of his nose down your neck until he inhales deeply to take in your scent. You smelled so divine, mixed with his own since he’d claimed you as his mate for the first time. “Wanna play with you.”

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate, your body was already more than ready, responding to his every graceful movement against your body. His hands gently smoothed down your curves, snaking beneath your shirt to caress your stomach while he took advantage of the towering force of his body to guide your steps backwards towards the bed. You complied, naturally submissive to his ministrations as you allowed him to place you on the bed, sitting on the edge with your palms flat on the soft duvet. He stood in front of you, between your spread legs while gazing down at you. He tugs your shirt up and off your torso, tossing it to the floor without even blinking to avoid missing a single second of seeing you.

“You’re so pretty.” You look up at him with admirations swirling in your eyes. Without thinking, your hands settle on his clothed thighs, running them up his firm muscles until you reach the waistline of his pants, curling your fingers around it to gently tug downwards-- signaling that you want to free the hardening bulge from the cage of fabric. “Wanna play with you too.”

Jimin’s forked tongue slipped out his slightly parted lips, swiping them across the delicate, pillowy skin until a layer of his spit served as a natural gloss, only adding to his unfair beauty. His pupils dilated significantly the second you gasp when you visibly see his cocks twitch through the clothing-- always amazed by his hybrid-like assets.

“Yeah, okay... A little-- You know I get impatient…” Jimin wasn’t blessed with patience, often greedy to get straight to the point of what he desired. But the look in your eyes made him want to give you the world. He couldn’t do that, though, but what he could do was to give you himself.

“I know, Jimin. You can’t help it.” He really couldn’t. When he gets excited, he loses control, the predatory part of his hybrid self taking over almost completely. However, that was exactly what you wanted..

You slowly pulled his pants down together with his underwear, flinching when his cocks sprung free in front of your face. You’re practically foaming at the mouth already, seeing how the swollen tips are glistening with beads of precum, waiting for you to indulge in his sinful flesh. So you did, grasping both in your hands, slowly stroking them from the get go with little to no patience yourself.

He was already hard in your hands, the velvety skin radiating heat. Jimin whined quietly in annoyance, rutting his hips forward to press his girths closer to your mouth-- you got the hint. You parted your lips, taking one of his cocks into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head before diving forward to take it all. You’ve done it countless times before, but every single time the tip of his turgid length prodded the back of your throat, he moans out loud. It’s one of his favorite things, how you’re able to take him so deep until there’s no more space for him to keep pushing.

“Fuck, that feels good, baby... “ Jimin’s tongue lisps lightly around the ‘S’, hissing out his cursed praises. His free hand grasps his untouched cock beneath the one currently buried down your throat, stroking himself simultaneously to the rhythm you quickly found as you sucked him off. His other hand strokes your hair, his delicate, ring-clad fingers brushing your curls behind your ears to see your face better. His hips begin to rut forward to meet your mouths as it comes down on him, watching your lips stretch around his girth with every drag back and forth, back and forth, the skin of his length wetter with each repeated action.

The praise has your cheeks rosy, beaming with pride at how easily he was falling apart just because of your mouth. However, his faux submission didn’t last long until he decided it was your turn to crumble beneath him. He gently grasped your hair into his fist, pulling you back until his length is stripped from the warmth of your wet mouth, a thick string of saliva dripping down your chin.

You look up at him once more, this time feeling your cunt throb when you make eye contact with the predatory stare that came from above, tunnel visioned on you, and you only. He never lied to you when he said his patience was practically nonexistent.

“That’s enough, baby. Take your clothess off…” he lisps endearingly, biting down on his lower lip when you don’t waste time to obey his commands. Your shirt was already off with his assistance, and you threw the bra to join the fabrics on the floor. Laying down on your back, you wiggle your hips while pulling down your pants, eyes never wavering from his. Your snake-like movements mesmerized even him. The prey taunted the predator.

“Moving like that, you drive me crazy… sshit..” Jimin groans, his hand stroking both cocks to the view below him of you stripping down to just your panties. You lift your legs up, taking off the pants completely to toss them away into any direction-- it didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was how riled up Jimin was while watching you, his wet cocks gliding against one another as he kept them in his firm grasp, slick sounds striking the room. His hissing got louder between grunts, and eventually he whines when he stops touching himself, instead coaxing you to move up towards the headboard of the bed to give him space to crawl between your spread legs, still hidden by the thin, soaked panties that you intentionally left on, knowing he loved to see the cotton stick to your cunt like a second layer of skin.

“J-Jimin…” You whine when he leans in between your legs, his hot breath fanning your clothed pussy as his darkened gaze flickers up to meet yours. His lips tug into a teasing smirk, showcasing his pointed fangs that you were so fond of-- for various reasons. His split tongue snakes out from his parted lips, giving your wet panties a long, slow drag from the bottom up to your clit. His moan vibrates in his chest at how he could taste and smell you through his taste buds, the sweet and tangy essence he couldn’t wait to soak his tongue in.

“Lovely.” Jimin praised yet again, smoothing the pads of his finger down your slit, feeling the heated skin beneath the panties. He slowly stroked his fingers up and down a few times before tugging at the thin fabrics, catching it between his fangs to rip it off with one smooth motion of his razor sharp teeth. You exhale audibly at the sight, hands curling up against the sheets to grab a fistful in anticipation-- you know exactly what you’re in for, and just knowing had your body shuddering from the thrill. Only one man could make you feel this riled up with so little, he hadn’t even begun to properly play with you.. yet. 

“P-please, it’s torture…” You whine, knowing all too well which ones of his buttons to push. Begging, whining-- he’d be a puddle that obliged to your wishes within a heartbeat, playing it off as his own greed. He’s domineering, and thrives through the power he possesses over you, sure-- but that didn’t mean he was immune to your pleading, sweet voice. It drove him mad, and if patience could go minus on a scale, his was dropping with every shaky breath that escaped your lips.

“Now who’s impatient..” Jimin teased, giving in to your pleas nonetheless. He understood the feeling better than anybody, and he saw no reason in dragging out the torture any longer than necessary, for the sake of you both. He gets comfortable between your legs, properly situated to finally allow his pillowy lips to kiss your clit softly, drawing another breathy whimper from your pretty throat, watching your chest shudder. He lets his split tongue slip past his parted lips, licking up the wet arousal that had seeped from your cunt, his hot breath hitting your skin as he exhales in rapture. He loved eating you out, and it was of no surprise that you loved it just as much-- his tongue was skilled, and perfectly shaped to give it a unique feeling compared to what a normal, human tongue could do.

Jimin said nothing from then on, but simply allowed his ministrations to speak for him. His dexterous tongue lapped at your dripping entrance, slowly, but not too slow to make it unbearable. He licked upwards stripes, his own drool mixing with the continuous essence that leaked out with every sweet constriction he coaxed from you when his moans vibrated against your pussy.

“You taste sso good, baby.” He sighs blissfully, inching even closer. The wet sounds his mouth made was sinful, alternating between licking and sucking lightly with his plushy, glossy lips. You were squirming above him, arching your back as your hands searched for his golden locks, tangling your fingers into his roots before tugging, pushing him closer to your core for more friction.

“H-harder-- make me cum, Jimin, ah…” You whimper, gritting your teeth in frustration-- you wanted more, more, more, greedy for him to please you further. He whines when you tug at his hair, but allowed you either way to control him. His lips found your clit, sucking at it tastefully, swirling his forked tongue around it to properly give you the attention you craved. His hands were tightly grabbing at your thighs, keeping your moving body in place as he picked up the pace when you kept tugging at his roots, spurring the aggression in him. The pain you caused him made him go harder-- so you closed your fist, pulling harder, and as you anticipated, his mouth treated you rougher.

“G-god, yes-- just like that, so good, I’ll c-cum.. Fuc-k!” Your throaty moans were like music to his ears, but he could only hear the muffled version of it as your fleshy thighs were pinning him in place, pushing against his ears. He could practically hear your heartbeat in your thighs, the warmth comforting and maddening to his senses, your throbbing, swollen clit impossibly hard in his mouth as he kept abusing it with his tongue. He rutted against the bed, his cocks leaking profusely with precum from how desperate you were to cum-- and it made him feel the desperation right on his tongue, both tasting and smelling your impending orgasm.

Your harsh grasp in his blonde curls didn’t cease, but increased the second his wet, skilled tongue flicked over your clit harder, coaxing your orgasm more and more until finally, it hits you like a tidal wave, drowning you in blinding rapture. Your back arched, your insides pulsating in a rhythmical pattern, every throb causing your body to twitch, and your silent cries only came out as gasps. Jimin pulled through, unable to breathe for a mere few seconds, still keeping his split tongue wrapped around your clit, feeling the way it pulsated against his lips. His muffled moan was more than enough for you to know he loved this just as much, but the moment he tapped your thigh you quickly let go of him so he could pull back and gasp for air.

“Ah, I’m s-sorry…” You half laugh, half whine, your dewy skin glistening with sweat, chest moving up and down with every shaky, heavy breath. You look down at his black stare, admiring you as if you were his entire universe. And to him, you are, no doubt.

“Don’t be. I loved it-- sso pretty... Sso hot…” Jimin huffed, giving your soaked entrance one last lick, gathering your essence on his tongue before slipping his tongue back into his mouth, savoring the taste. “Mmm...  You’re sso delicious, baby.”

“Gah.. D-don’t say that, it’s embarrassing.” You hid your face in your palms, face flushed with embarrassment and the lingering arousal in your body. You felt him get up from his position, crawling on top of your body to kiss your hands that covered your face. Slowly, you removed them to peek at him, only to see his pearly, sharp smile, eyes squinted into the most beautiful crescent moons.

“You’re too cute. How can you act so innocent after using my mouth like that?” Jimin cooed, leaning back in to kiss your lips. It tasted like you, but you didn’t mind-- because it was living proof that he’d just indulged in his favorite treat.

Well, one of his favorite treats.

Jimin sat back up on his knees, his cocks standing tall and needy for any attention whatsoever at this point. He’d been so patient after all, putting effort into making you feel so good. Now that you’re soaked, both his mouth and swollen heads of his lengths were dripping with desperation to finally fuck you.

“Baby?” Jimin’s soothing voice was like a siren’s song, impossible to ignore-- absolutely impossible to say no to.

“Yes?”

“Ride me, please?” His eyelashes fluttered, flirting his way through your heart to get what he desired. And it worked--- obviously. He wouldn’t even have to ask this nicely. He treated you well, so you wanted to give it right back.

You nod, moving to the side to let him take your previous place, laying on his back. He propped himself up a little with a few pillows, reaching for your body with a pout when he felt cold without the warmth that is you.

“You’re still the more impatient one.” You giggle as you straddle him, lifting your hips up above his cock. He watched with wide eyes, nodding in agreement to whatever you said at this point-- all he could think about was to fill you up.

“Yeah, yeah.” He murmured, guiding your hips down slowly to sink down on one of his cocks, the other left untouched, sandwiched between the fleshy cheeks of your ass. His cocks were wet, easily providing a pleasant glide against your skin.

“I really want to be able to fill you with both this time…” Jimin confessed while he swallowed tightly, fangs clamping down on his lower lip as he pushed you down further to take his entire length in your warm insides. His cocks throbbed, one in you and one against your ass, a heavy exhale slipped past his lips in bliss. “So fuckin’ goood to me, shit… Rock your hipss, baby, use me.”

“God, you’re so pretty Jimin…” You praised him right back, feeling his cock pulsate with every sweet word coming from you. He loved it when you called him pretty in various ways. Rocking your hips back and forth, his cock grinds deeply inside of you, causing yourself to moan from using him to please yourself. “And s-so big, fuck..”

“I know.” Jimin crooked a playful eyebrow at you, but just as quickly his shit eating grin was wiped off when you spit in your palm, hand snaked behind your back to stroke the cock that wasn’t already wrapped in your heat. “Ahh, yes.. Touch it-- touch it more…” He whined, his hands grabbing your thighs to coax you to rock your hips harder. You did so, all while teasing the wet head of his free length.

“Want to fill both my holes with your pretty cocks, Jimin?” You said sweetly, already knowing the answer. His hips bucked upwards in response, his hissed curses spurring your growing confidence. You slowed your movements, guiding the drenched tip to prod at your ass. Slowly, you teased your tight rim until you could comfortably slip it inside, carefully allowing him to fill you up to the brim with both of his blessed, turgid lengths. You gasped again, overwhelmed by how full you felt, so complete.. “O-oh my god....”

“Yes, yeah, fuck yess..” Jimin screwed his eyes shut for a moment, stilling his movements for your sake, wanting you to decide when it’s time to move. He knew it’d be a lot, and he’s so proud of you for taking both his cocks at once-- such a fucking good girl for him. “Tight, isn’t it? Take it easy..”

“Yeah, you’re big, Jimin…Unf..” You place your palms flat down on his toned abdomen, breathing steadily to relax your muscles. The two of you truly felt each other then, his flesh filling you up in such a completing way that he’d never done before. Your warm insides hugging him snugly, comforting him in every sense of the word-- he felt at ease, like this is where he belonged all along. 

You began to move when you felt ready, grinding your hips against him, feeling the twitching of his needy cocks inside of you with every movement-- not a single moment went unnoticed by him, every breath and whine that slipped past your lips was pure bliss. You picked up the pace a bit, rocking faster on him, growing greedier with every low curse, hiss and moan that pushed past his bit swollen lips, his blunt nails digging into your thighs.

“D-don’t go too fast, I’ll cum…” He whined, licking his sharp fangs as he stared at the way your body jiggled on top of him. His hips rutted upwards, changing the rocking motion into an up and down bounce, causing you to moan out in pleasure when his cocks abused the thin wall of flesh separating his lengths, grinding against one another.

“M-maybe I want you to..” You breathe out, your voice nowhere as coy as you had imagined it to be-- it was impossible to tease when he brushed against every inch of your sensitive insides, the sweet stretch driving you mad. But on the other hand, you could tell he’s the one who was falling apart underneath you, the common tick of his where he continuously swiped his tongue over his sharp fangs, a known quirk of his when he’s desperately trying to control his impending orgasm by feeling the sting of his teeth. “Want you to fill me up so well. Help me, fuck me harder. I c-can’t by myself.”

“Mhm.” Jimin’s nails had dragged down your thighs countless times at this point, coaxing red welts to form in his rake. He smoothed his palms up your body, digging his digits into your hips to get a proper hold of you, aiding in your bouncing motion, allowing you to plunge down on his cocks harder to meet his bucking hips, forcing the slapping sound of skin to skin to grow more prominent in the room. “Oh, baby, I swear… I’ll cum, ah…”

Those few, sweet words spoken in his lustful, canary voice was all you needed to feel a rush of energy pump through your veins, adamant to make him cum just as good as he made you. Your fingers curled on the skin of his stomach, light scratches forming on his milky tone as you bounced on his cocks harder, faster, deeper-- the shameless wet smacking sounds driving you both towards lustful madness. His split tongue continuously swiped over his teeth, lips, biting down hard on his pillowy, delicate skin. His teeth itched to bite down on something, the scorching heat pooling in his abdomen creeping up on him faster than ever before.

“B-baby-- Wanna bite.” Jimin pleaded, but it wasn’t a command. The biting wasn’t your favorite, he knew this, but he felt desperate. It was his way of marking you, claiming you-- to show you he loved you and you only during a time like this. “I promise I’ll be g-gentle, please.. I’m cumming, fuc-k!”

You didn’t hesitate, wordlessly leaning forward to offer him your neck, all while his tight grasp moved to your ass, forcing you down over and over on his lengths. His lips immediately kiss down your neck, searching for his favorite spot in the slope where your neck meets your shoulder. His lips curl up as his fangs came into view, not wasting a second of this given opportunity to let them sink into your soft skin. Your body tensed up, holes constricting around his lengths, just the way he anticipated--and had hoped for. He kept fucking up into you, hissing as his razor-like fangs chomp down your neck, savoring the throaty cries that pushed past your lips.

“O-oh, ow, shit-- fuck! Jimin, ahh… F-feels good.” You reassured him, knowing that although his primal instincts took over the second his fangs bit into you, one of his hands soothingly ran up and down your waist as the other remained tight, fucking you down on him. However, it only took a few more punishing thrusts before he pushed you down once more, but this time keeping you still, emptying himself into both of your holes. His body tensed up, hips stuttering as he hissed out, lips curled up as he bit down harder. This is where he’s the most lost in his hybrid part of himself, mating you like it’s the first time, although it’s far from it.

“D-doing so well, Jimin…” You praised as you felt his body relax slowly, cocks pulsating as hot cum gushed out into the tight space, already seeping out from the lack of anywhere else to go. His hands is the first indication that he’d come back down to reality, smoothing down your back and pulling you close to his body. Lastly, he unhinged his jaw and let go, licking his bloody fangs clean before holding you close, still lodged deep inside of you with no intention of removing you from this position just yet.

“Thank you, baby.” Jimin stroked your back, nuzzling his nose into your hair to coax you to look up at him. When you did, he smiled. The familiar, pearly smile that caused his eyes to form into this lovely squint that had your heart fluttering. “I love you.”

This man was really made out of sugar, spice and everything nice.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[dangan-writing]

I need a n g s t

Kokichi, Nagito and Shuichi with a s/o that’s really forgiving? You could make them end up in the hospital and they’d forgive you

So what if they accidentally kill them and their s/o still forgives them?

If you want, you can do a happy ending where they live! Your choice! :)

╔═══════════════════════════╗

*__ i pick different endings if that's okay Anon, And i picked it to be in the killing game, please tell me if you want it to be changed Anon.

*__ and i apologise if it seems rushed, it's hard to write for 3 character's. And also because you were probably waiting for so long. you can still request for me to remake it Anon, don't worry ^^

*___ Tw -> Ch/king, po/soning, Ka/de, caps, violence, curse words, f/re, injuries

*___Mod Miaya___*

»»———————————- ♡ ————————————««

*___Kokichi Oma___*

When somebody hurts you Kokichi will be fucking rude to them since they don't deserve respect since they hurted you

"Ah Kokichi! Calm down, it didn't hurt that much! I'm okay, see?" You try to move around, but gasping because of the pain "O-Oh.." "See! You got really hurt! That person is gonna get it!!" Kokichi wails "H-hey, i forgive them.. it's not like they murdered me or anything! I'm still here, with just some small injury!" You giggled "Are you that nice?" Kokichi mumbled, before getting up "Hey c'mon! Let's go to Keeboy and have fun with him!" Kokichi smiled mischievously, you laugh "let's go."

That was actually to distract you and go to the person who hurted you and prank the fuck out of the person-

He's concerned about you, i mean. A forgiving S/O? He'll be watching out the people who talks to you, he's a liar. He'll know if they're lying or not. It's impossible for them to hurt you since you have a liar by your side! Impossible he says as he didn't realize they lied in front of his face as you and the person walked away together

After a few minutes passed, he was concerned. Why were you two taking so long? You two must not have been- no, that can't be. Unless...

Shit.. he ran looking after you "S/O!!~ where are you?~ we better not play hide and seek! You'd know i win easily~" he tried to keep up his facade, not wanting to freak himself out... then he saw you tied up, with blood and bruises all over you, with you breathing heavily.

"S/O!" He ran towards you, not even noticing the trap beneath him. As he tried to remove the ropes around you, as he turned around, the door was closed and fire started appearing "Oh shit, t-there was a trap?" He was trying to remove the ropes but it was too tight "Aha.. Don't worry we'll get out of h-here S/O! And we'll get that bastard later for doing this to you dear!" He started to breathe heavily, some smoke blocking his vision. He started to grow weaker "H-ha.. S/O i'm t-truly sorry.." he passed out, luckily people started to bust the door open. The people.. Gonta, and Kaito. With Tenko and the other people "S/O, KOKICHI!" Gonta yelled "Is there any water to put the fire out?" Tenko asked, she doesn't even care if the males save them she just wants them to be saved "I have it here!" Kaito yelled holding some fire grenades with him, he passed the fire grenades to everyone and they started to throw it in the fire

After some minutes, the fire stopped. The others rushed in there finding you two, they picked you two up and put you two in the dorms, Kirumi offered to heal you two. 1st degree burns.. a lot of bruises and blood on you. It took you two two days to wake up.. Kokichi woke up first "nghn.. uh what happened?" Kokichi asked, confused before realizing "ah!- is S/O okay! They better be okay!" Kokichi pouted, looking at Kirumi "they're okay, they just needed more rest then they'll be fine, no need to wory Kokichi. I attended to their injuries quickly after everyone pulled you two out of the fire, they are right next to you Kokichi." Kokichi looked next to him to see you beside him resting peacefully "oh damn, nishishi~" Kokichi looked at Kirumi "Can you leave? I have something to do, like a leader would do!" Kokichi just want to cuddle you actually. Kirumi did as he said, but she knew that he wanted to cuddle you after seeing you there beside him, she smiled.

Cuddling..

After some cuddling you woke up aswell due to his constant moving

"Mmmm Koshi..?" You groaned, half asleep. You rubbed your eyes for a bit "Heeeeey your awake noow! You take too long to wake up!" Kokichi childishly pouted, it's too adorable to be guilty with it, you laugh "That's not going to work in me, that's too adorable y'know?" Kokichi tried his scary face, it's a little intimidating. But it's still cute "still cute-" "Man can't you be scared of me!?" Kokichi cried out! Shaking his arms like a child

After you two were okay now, everyone besides one was trying to find the person who almost killed the both of you

It took 1-2 hours to find the the person who did this

It.. was Angie?

"Uhm.. Why did you try to kill S/O and uh, Ouma-san?" Shuichi asked Angie, who was tied up in a chair "Ahhh~ S/O wanted to give their blood to Atua! That's what Atua told Angie!~" Angie was cheerful as always. Almost everyone didn't believe that "Hey you almost killed me and my dearest S/O!" Kokichi wailed trying to attack Angie, but Gonta was holding onto him as Shuichi said, Angie laughed "S/O offered me some of their-" Shuichi isn't having none of it "Listen.. uhm, you almost killed S/O and Kokichi, how is that uh- related to Atua? And you started a fire for hell's sake...!" Shuichi yelled at Angie, Angie didn't smile. It sended chills on all of their spines.. it wasn't normal for her to not smile, since she always smiles. Seems like she isn't gonna talk for the time "Guys, please don't worry, i forgive her." You jumped in "WHAT? She almost killed you y'know!?" Kaito yelled "Yeah! The idiots right! Angie killed you!" "She's not dead you fuckin' brat!" Miu yelled at Kokichi "h-huh? That w-was uncalled for!" Oh dear now she messed up "W-Wai-" "WWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!" Kokichi wailed, annoying the others, especially Korekiyo, Kaito, and Maki. They left as soon Kokichi started to cry, except for Kaito-

"Like i said, i forgive her. I'm still alive anyways so that's good right?"

"You forgivable cutie.." Kokichi mumbles

»»———————————- ♡ ————————————««

*___Nagito Komaeda___*

He's a bit protective, you forgive people so easily. He doesn't mind if it's the hopeful people but, the despairful people?? Fuck no he won't let them go to you ever again, he has a quick eye. He'll catch them if they are looking at you

"S/O! Why do you forgive such despairing ugly humans, they hurted you!" Nagito spoke, angrily confused, you are filled with hope thats what he loves but you are a bit too considerate about *everyone's* feelings, even if it's a inanimate object you still refuse to break it.. you really are filled of hope.. too much hope "Huh? Why i forgive people all the time? Uhm... it's just my nature to forgive them, i am aware of how forgiveful i am. I forgive them, but that doesn't mean i like them, listen.. i forgive people but i stay away from them. I can understand when i forgive someone when they hurted me for so long, that's why you never see me with the people i know that hurted me Nagito." You try to give an explaination, of course. You know it isn't all but you decided to give an answer for him to know "S/O.. i.. i understand, how stupid am i to question such hope!" Nagito please calm down we care for you-

You saw him walking, bringing some stuff. Is.. is that poison? Spear, rope, speakers... what is he planning again? He walked inside the warehouse, you need to stop him from being reckless again. But you didn't move from your spot, you waited for a little while. Then you heard fireworks? Then.. running, everyone? They walked to the warehouse, Akane trying to bust the door open. You still stayed im your spot, trying to see if someone is doing stupid. Eventually Akane busted the door open, then you heard

Fire. What the hell? Wasn't Nagito in there? Shit.. You run in the warehouse

"NAGITO!!" you yelled, trying to get the fire canisters and threw them on the fire, it only made the fire more bigger? It's a fire canister.. isn't it suppose to put the fire out? Soon everyone moved and threw the individual fire canister's

Soon enough, the sprinklers put the fire out. You stood up "NAGITO ARE THERE!?" You tried to run in but Monokuma stopped you "Uh-Oh! Unfortuantely you can't be in here for now! Now get out so i can fix this damn warehouse!" You all got kicked out, after 6 minutes Monokuma appeared "Yahhoo, now it's finished now go in there you damn kids!" it's finally done.. honestly it felt like forever. But no time for that, you all ran in the warehouse "hmnn, i smell somethin'.." Akane's nose twitched like a beast when she said that "...That's probably because of the fire earlier.." Chiaki said, and Chiaki pointed out the there was space in the curtains from here, Hajime walked next to the curtain. You felt sick, it can't happen to him plea-

Ding dong bing bong! A body has been discovered! After a certain amount of time, a class trial will begin!

Screams, Kazuichi, Sonia.. and of course you.

You ran to his body begging that this isn't real "plEASE THIS ISN'T- ISN'T R-REAL" You sobbed, the others felt pity.. They tried to drag you away from his body, of course they did take you away from his body.

You eventually pass out from crying, too tired to investigate for the trial. They dragged you in the trial room, you wouldn't wake up so they had no choice but to drag you in the trial. Few minutes later you woke up

"N-Nagito.. set one of us as the killer..." what? Set one of us?

"Huh? What do you mean he set someone as the murderer..?" you asked in disbelief, Hajime explained what basically happened while you were asleep, you just stood there. You tried to focus, you threw a fire canister in the fire, but it only made the fire larger than before.

What...? This.. is unfair unfair- no.

»»———————————- ♡ ————————————««

"I know who did it." You spoke, interrupting their panicking which they snapped out of it when they looked at you "You only decide to talk now!?" Kazuichi yelled, obviously scared for his life "yeah" you nod "uhm.. may i ask who it is?" Sonia nervously asked, you sighed heavily "uh, it's me."

"W-what!? That can't be true! You saved me when i was starvin'!' Akane yelled out "Huuuuuhhh!? What the hell? S/O bought you some food?! That w-wasn't supposed to be allowed-" Monokuma looked dumbfounded until he was cut off "Who the hell cares!? They still saved me.." Akane looked down, it felt like Nekomaru's death all of a sudden..

Hajime and others felt like crying, you were like a leader trying to protect them even though you forgive people too easily "..." Chiaki didn't said anything, she just looked at you. You smiled at her "Do... do you forgive Komaeda-san for what happened S/O?" Chiaki asked "of course not! He set them up as the culprit you kno-" "Yes." You answered, ignoring Kazuichi's comment "hnm, you still forgive him? After he set you up S/O?" She tilt her head "yes, i know he must have a reason. He wouldn't kill someone for his own benifit, that's what i deduced, i believe he has a reason for this. He loves hope, he thinks me as his hope. He wouldn't just throw me away without an explanation, why would he call me a despairing person? I.. yes, i forgive him.." you lowered your head, you didn't understand any of this, why would he kill himself and you?

"Alrighty! Time to vote! Who would be chosen as the blackened?" Monokuma butted in the conversation "Goodbye everyone.. please remember me and everyone in this damned killing game." You smiled, looking at everyone. You are terrified of what kind of execution you have, but you tried to forget it.

This.. is goodbye for me.

S/O has been found guilty, time for the execution!

Right.. goodbye.

I forgive you all for..

*___Shuichi Saihara___*

The same with the two guys, he'll be pretty protective of you since you are so forgiving, there's a high chance you'll get killed because of your friendly nature and he doesn't want that to happen, not ever

"S-S/O, please try to be less considerate.. N-Not that you should be r-rude to anyone! I mean.. you s-shouldn't forgive p-people that easily, even if they are s-sorry. They hurted you uhm, S/O you don't have to feel o-obligated to forgive them." He hugged you, making you feel protected. You laughed

"Ahah, Shuichi. Thank you, i understand that i shouldn't forgive people that easily but, we really are just like that. No matter how many times they hurted us we forgive them. we people, are like that." You tighten the hug, smiling onto his chest

"S-S/O!" He screamed as he rushed towards you, you choking. He didn't realize he put in the poison instead the water.

"S/O DON'T DIE YET PLEASE" Shuichi was panicking, he is gonna murder his own S/O because he was losing sleep that he didn't realize that he put poison in your drink.

'Please pleaee please please please please please please please please please please please please pleaee please please please please please please please please'

..it....

..It was too late? He looked at your dead body.

"S-S/O.. I.. I'm so sorry... i'm such a failure.." he caressed your face. Sobbing, Before.

Ding dong bing bong! A body has been discovered, after a certain amount of time, a class trial will begin!

"WH-WHAT THE HELL!?" Miu screamed out, she rushed to hide in Kaito's back "EEEEEEIIIII, POOICHI IS THE MURDERER!" "What the hell Shuichi!" Kaito stumbled back a bit. Their screams of terror alerted the others, making Kaede, with Tsumugi and Rantaro on her trail.

"H-huh Shuichi!?" "Aaaauuuhh! The killing has started! It's much more different than Sakura's death on Danganronpa trigger happy hav-" "S-Shuichi.." Kaede, Tsumugi, and Rantaro reacted altogether, Rantaro ran towards Shuichi pushing him and trying to do something so he couldn't move "Anyone here have any rope? We need to tie him up first before questioning whats happened." Rantaro stated, looking up at the others "I-I'm sorry.." Rantaro looked down at Shuichi "you will have to explain yourself later, we don't know if you are the culprit, but be honest later on aight?" Shuichi didn't reply

Korekiyo walked in the scene, with a velvet colored rope in hand "i heard that you will be needing this, and so i give this rope to you Amami-san.." Korekiyo handed him the rope " Thanks Kiyo." Amami tied up Shuichi but didn't question on how Korekiyo found the rope but he isn't complaining "Kekehehe.. it is no problem Amami-san..." weirdo..

After they tied him up, they investigated the crime scene first before talking to him because that will waste their time, as they all went to the trial grounds, with Shuichi still tied up. Kaito guarding so he couldn't run away.

"So.. Shuichi, Why did you plan on killing your S/O. Your S/O." Rantaro said. Even if he is not your S/O he cared abiut you deeply, to just see your dead body fuels him with rage "Y-yeah.. Why Shuichi, you guys loved eachother so deeply, i don't understand why you k-killed them." Kaede tried not to sob, but horribly failed "I... i-i didn't mean to kill them, i was tired, stupid.. just vote me out already, i don't care if i die." .. Nobody tried to argue against him, he already admitted it, no point of arguing anyway

"Man you guys got it right! That was boring. an accidental death! Woohoo surely they wouldn't forgive him, he killed them. They wanted to live, yet. You.. killed... them! Puhuhuhu..lets get with on it, i have a special punishment for the ultimate detective, Shuichi Saihara!" Some of the people were clenching their fists, the ultimate detective.. was going to get executed "Let's give it everything we've got! It's... PUNISHMENT TIIIME!"

...

..

.

Huh? What..

What? Why is he, in a pod? He saw someone outside of the pod..is that? No way, S/O?

You opened the pod, smiling at him "well hello there Shuichi, it's so good to see you again." You held his hand, he looked dumbfounded, soon tears started to build up "S-S/O!" He hugged you tightly, not wanting to let go "I'm s-so sorry.. i didn't mean to kill you! I-i... you can hurt me, anything to make you satisfied with what happened.." Shuichi begged you to do it.. he's sobbing, he's so sorry "it's okay dear, i know you didn't mean it! I forgive you! I don't care how many times you hurt me, i'll always forgive you Shuhara. I love you too much for me to not forgive you, or anyone." You caressed his face, smiling softly at him.

"A-ah.." he looked down before smiling, you standed up and he followed what you did "Now, let's go and watch the others now Detective Shuhara."

"Of course."

╚═══════════════════════════╝

[gallickingun]

Hi I saw that thirsts were open and ✨oh boy✨ I would let Tsukishima Kei degrade me to hell with no remorse ✌🏻

tw: degradation; “sir”; dacryphilia; after-care because i am weak and need to be told im pretty; also a little bit of praise but not necessarily praise kink lol;

ps, reminder that ~drabble~ requests are OPEN! this includes sfw/nsfw for bnha, haikyuu, dragon ball, avatar, or jujutsu kaisen!

Your chin wobbles and your eyes look like glass, your fragility projected in your sweet little irises. Tsukishima smirks, tugging his lower lip into his mouth by his canine tooth, “What are you crying for? I’m giving you exactly what you asked for.” 

The plush of your ass is red, throbbing with welts and begging for mercy. You grit your teeth and try to keep your muscles from flexing too much, the pain rippling through you with each small movement. You dig your head into the pillow so you don’t have to look over your shoulder at his condescending tawny gaze, almost like he is glowering down at you for having the audacity to take up the same space, even though you two have shared this apartment for nearly a year.

“I should give you something to cry about,” he licks his lips and digs the heel of his palm into the small crevice between your shoulder blades, shoving your chest down into the mattress. 

To accent his words, he grips your hip with the hand not preoccupied with pinning you to the sheets, blunt nails dug harshly into your skin until he’s left evidence of his presence behind. A sob rips from your lungs, but is muffled by the down of the pillow you stifle yourself with. Tsukishima huffs out a snicker and resumes his relentless pace, each slap of his hips against your ass reminding you of how harsh his hands were mere moments prior.

“K-Kei,” you garble his name, drool seeping from the curve of your lips as you whine, trying to move your hips to no avail, his iron grip on your waist unwavering. Another smack is slashed across your backside and you still your body, squinting out tears, soaking the pillow beneath you.

You feel the uncharacteristically soft plush of his lips press to your shoulder, and your body relaxes under the administration of the affections. It is but a quick reprieve before his harsh, calloused palms and biting words make their return. 

A cry parts your lips when Tsukishima’s middle finger presses against the small bundle of nerves at the apex of your hips, ruthless in his ministrations. You warn him through driveled words that you’re going to make a mess on him, that you’re going to unravel if he continues to touch you like this. You’re not sure if you’re speaking coherently, but it’s all the talk you can afford at a moment like this.

“Filthy little whore,” Tsukishima huffs against your throat, nipping at your ear each time his body ruts up into you. The quick, salacious drag of his cock against your innermost parts is a mixture of pleasure and painstaking ache. He snickers when you wriggle your hips, begging quietly for more than he’s giving you, “Such an eager little bitch. God, you’re so desperate. Aren’t you?”

Your hands scramble behind your back to try and seek out his wrist, his forearm, or his knee. Something, anything, to anchor you before you float away. A weak little, “please, Kei,” trembles from your lips and he sighs like you’re the biggest inconvenience known to man. Even still, a palm reaches forward and presses into the mattress, close enough that you can angle your wrist to wrap your delicate fingers around his pulse point, counting each thud of his veins to bring yourself back to earth.

“So needy,” his tone holds no malice this time, although you suspect he didn’t originally mean for it to come out so tenderly. Tsukishima clears his throat and pistons forward into you to try to get you to forget any benign slip of the tongue he might have made. A high-pitched whine makes your throat ache and he rolls his eyes, a motion you catch with the way your chin is tucked against your shoulder, “What, your fingers can’t make you feel like this? You can’t figure this out on your own? How pathetic.”

You know if you come now, he’ll punish you for it later, since he hasn’t given you permission to fall apart on his cock just yet. His moan is guttural to the point that it sounds like he’s growling when you clamp down on him, your walls begging for reprieve.

He does not grant you the solace you are so desperately searching for, instead peeling his touch from your clit to pinch at your nipple, the sharp lightning strike to your sensitive bud making you keen. Your head slams back into his collarbone and you whimper at the pain of bone on bone, but Tsukishima is as steady and resilient as they come. His voice is low and gravelly in your ear, patronizing to the perfect degree, “I swear to God if you come before I tell you to, you won’t know what pleasure is for weeks. Do you understand?”

Your body is worn out, overstimulation making your cunt flex and your thighs quiver under the strain of holding yourself up for so long. You gulp and sniffle and you cannot react or respond to him, your mouth unable to catch up to your mind.

“I expect an answer,” his tone is clipped and a fresh bout of tears well up in your eyes, but the way he speaks does little to quell the slick between your thighs. Each slap of his hand and his words only washes a new wave of arousal between the walls of your cunt, translucent white dripping down his cock and staining the bed until the sheets are damp.

“Y-Yes,” you manage, nodding so hard your whole body shakes.

The world ceases to spin but your mind cannot stop, so you’re stuck somewhere between upright and dizzy.

Tsukishima’s mouth is close to your ear, the bow of his lips dragging along your lobe, “I hope I misheard you, or did you really not address me properly? Are you looking for a punishment, brat?”

Before you can answer, Tsukishima’s palm strikes your ass several times, until you’re foaming at the mouth with an apology, “Yes sir, yes sir! I promise I-I understand, I-I’m sorry!” And you’re not sure how many times you beg for his mercy, for his forgiveness, but you do so until you’re unable to speak. Between the way his cock spears your cunt, tapping against your spine with each thrust, and the sweet yet poisonous words that fall from his maw, you can’t hold yourself back any longer. 

And so you beg. 

You beg and you beg and you beg for him to either stop his torturous actions or let you feel the ecstasy of release. Your hands claw at him until you leave trails of red on his pale skin, your tears soak the pillow until you cannot make out a dry spot of fabric, and your knees knock mercilessly into his hips to try and still his movements. What you cannot see through the bleariness of your tears and subservient haze is the glint in his irises, honey bleeding down his spine until he feels the sickeningly sweet taste of it in his gut. As if by some form of osmosis he can taste the thick of your cream as you drip down his balls, and he can’t stop himself when he sneers, “Making a mess on these sheets, sweetheart, what a filthy little thing you are.”

“Please,” your voice is so small, so fragile, and Tsukishima feels that familiar twinge in his gut when you fixate your pouting gaze on him. He grits his teeth and turns you so you’re on your back, ankle hooked by his shoulder, only this position does little to help you stave off the impending doom of your orgasm.

“Gonna listen to me, yeah?” his words are rushed and you know that means he is near the end of his patience and his resolve. Tsukishima grunts and his eyes screw shut, hips pausing so he is buried to the hilt, “When I tell you to come, you better come.”

Your teeth clang together with the ferocity in which you nod to tell him you’re listening, and that you will obey. Tsukishima’s cock pulses within your walls, and the reaction makes you cant your hips forward and your eyes roll back just enough that he feels feral at the sight.

“C’mon then,” Tsukishima near-growls in your ear, pressing his chest against yours as his body begs for the closeness this near to pleasure. His hips bruise your supple skin and your fingernails find the flesh of his shoulders to make your own mark, both of you branding the other in the heated moments of ecstasy. He nips your jaw and noses your cheek, voice dropping an octave and you feel the molten magma churn in your belly, “Make a mess on my cock.”

As if that final phrase, one of permission and wanton lust, sets your body free.

A sobbing whine sits pretty on your tongue, eyes screwed shut as you clutch him with whatever parts of yourself you can find within you to move closer. His torso leans back, eyes raking appreciatively over your shaking frame before settling on the conjunction of your body and his. Amber irises narrow as he watches his dick slide between your folds, dripping with your combined arousal, and his whole body shudders.

His name rakes from the back of your throat and it burns but you can’t focus on anything other than the gushing of your insides, aborted thrusts bringing your hips closer as you grip his biceps with unabashed intensity. Your cunt feels warm and you chock it up to your own orgasm, but then you feel Tsukishima’s cock softening slightly, the head of his pulling away from your cervix as he works himself through his own high.

“K-Kei,” your wobbling voice forces his eyelids to open, warm irises seeking out the sight of you.

“You did good,” his mouth finds yours and a soft kiss is volleyed between the two of you, “Proud of you.”

Your eyes are still blown wide, pupils swallowing the color of your irises. Tsukishima nudges his nose against your jaw and kisses faintly down your jugular until he reaches your collarbone, a teasing lick administered to the prickled skin. Your hands go slack against his shoulders, kneading at the muscled plane until you feel your soul settle.

“Did good,” you echo, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I listened!”

Tsukishima laughs, only this time it is genuine and free of it’s usual sarcastic lilt. He massages your thighs and kisses your ankle before resting your legs back against the mattress, still caged between your knees. He nods, reaching up with one hand to brush his knuckle against your cheek, “Yeah, you did. And what happens to pretty girls who listen?”

His kisses trail between your breasts and down over the bulge of your belly until his mouth is hovered over your core, your words and his overlapping as you watch him in awe, his pink tongue slipping from between his lips to accentuate the end of his sentence and yours. 

“They get rewarded.”

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

He did? Umm.. what happened exactly?

(referring to this post)

my 11th grade chemistry teacher had an associates degree in liberal arts.

you know how in virtually every class you’ve ever had since middle school, your teachers made a big stink about the syllabus? she didn’t have one. this was her first teaching job, which she got because of her length experience as a substitute, not by her licensing qualifications. we were, at first, excited to have her, because she was a “fun sub” and we were 17 years old and stupid as all shit. we were the “normal chem” class in a system where the only other options were “honors chem” which was filled with children who actually know how to study (or cheat) and have an air of proper student activity, and “AP Chem”, which is clear enough if you’ve been an american student in the last 15 years.

she followed the mcgraw hill chemistry book in order of chapters, despite the fact that our state standardized tests did several of the chapters out of order. ever notice how you’ll suddenly be looking at chapter 11 when just last week you were on chapter 5, then the next week you’re on chapter 8? standardized testing is the reason. anyways by asking my friends in other classes who had chemistry teachers of relative competence, i was able to discern which chapters i should focus on, and while she was distracted with literally watching youtube videos all period, I was turning around in my seat and walking across the classroom helping my friends and enemies with the packets. (she was a two-packets-a-week kinda teacher.)

yes i said enemies too. the people i hated, i hated because they were sons of bitches i wouldnt piss on to put out a fire. i hated them so dearly i used to pray to god that they would bump into me so i could throw myself into the concrete and split my forehead open and get them expelled due to the blood-clause of our “zero-tolerance policy”. two of the kids in my class had, only the previous year, attempted to set my hair on fire.

i hated the teacher more. 

it gave me extreme pleasure to see her fume and clench her fists when a student would say “i need help” across the classroom and she would move to get up and they would say “oh not you miss, im waiting for vicky.” jesus christ the only time ive ever felt a comparable high was when i was at a halloween party in college where i was literally so zooted i couldn’t move.

it got worse over time, her getting more and more angry, my ego growing larger and larger. i was a huge bitch in high school, i really thought i was the smartest bitch in the room at any given moment. severe main character syndrome. imagine that kind of person actually being right for 45 minutes out of every day. can you even comprehend the kind of frustration that would create? in a room full of little sociopaths who dont give a shit about anything but getting this joke of a class over with so they can graduate? your first real teaching job and they look right past you, the teacher, to this annoying little shit whose grades are completely abysmal? how are they managing to learn anything from a child who can barely speak in front of more than 10 people? who turns cherry red in the face of literally every authority figure in the building except you? who can’t concentrate and stay still in one spot for more than five minutes? all of your other classes behave! they listen! they sit down and shut up and do the packets! so what fucking gives!!!

so you say “fine, since you all HATE ME so much i just won’t teach then!!!” on literally week fucking ten of teaching. and instead of prostrating themselves before you, begging you to like... point at transparencies and read directly from powerpoints i guess.

and they all collectively say “okay” and let the chipmunk child flutter between desks and help them memorize formulas and mnemonic devices and shit. surely her grades will suffer if she’s constantly dealing with other people and you’ll have justification that her horseshit is “distracting” and “a detriment to her studies”. she got bored gave up on that after two days after nothing changed.

then we did the midterm.

except at the end of the exam packet was something we never learned because again, she was going through the book chronologically. because i actually enjoyed the chem book (so much that i stole it when the year was up lmao), i knew the material.

it was about lewis dots/structures. i couldn’t tell you a damn thing about it today but in december 2010 i absolutely knew that shit. i didnt have too much of a problem with it in the exam, but the students who had gotten to that point were complaining and at first she pulled that “you should have been studying independently uwu” shit but the class was about to get loud during exam period so she shushed us and said that when we get to that point, just stop, and she’ll mark it correct during grading, no harm no foul just keep it quiet. one of the more confrontational students called horseshit and said theres no way we’re trusting that and there’s definitely no way anyone will keep an entire classroom cheating at the instruction of the teacher quiet.

i offered to teach it.

she scoffed, rolled eyes, said “sure fine but you can’t get your exam back” and i said “okay.” so when everyone was to the point in the exam, we piled them all on her desk and i used the whiteboard to briefly and quietly explain lewis dots, used the book examples and problems, and helped the other kids understand. there were a couple exam questions that were lifted straight from the book problems so i skipped those. while teaching i realized i had gotten a couple wrong which sucked :( it was an incredibly stupid experience overall, and no teacher worth the paper their certification is printed on would have allowed that to happen. and fucking yet.

anyways everyone but me got their exams back and finished it and many of us passed, only a few of them did particularly well.

discussing the chem exam with friends who also took the chem exam, many students found their anecdote about the lewis dots to be confounding, for you see, the exam we took was not, in fact, the midterm, but the god damned final.

she had us taking the fucking final because she didnt read the fucking folders which read “midterm” and “final exam” on them

she was reprimanded severely and we all had to take the exam on different days, in different classrooms, sitting very far apart. after that she hated me even more. like girl it was your fault lmao i am literally a teenager grow up lol. anyways you can imagine how much more fucking insufferable i became, knowing how miserable she was.

it all came to a head in february when some students were giggling quietly following a minor fuck up on her part regarding bellwork. they were making fun of her like “are you sure thats not tomorrows bellwork lol” and a friend next to me did the “hey i need help wait no miss not you sorry” thing and when i answered him, she solidly snapped. blah blah YOURE SOOOO DISTRACTING blah blah YOU THINK YOURE SOOOO SMART DONT YOU blah blah blah and she was like demanding i leave the room and shouting at the top of her lungs at me “ YOU POISON THE MINDS OF EVERY OTHER STUDENT HERE. YOU’RE POISONOUS VICTORIA, YOU’RE A VIRUS IN THIS CLASSROOM.”

i will never forget that line as long as i live. it was like crack to me. i moved to open the door to leave and the vp opened it first. he escorted me to the office and asked me what happened, then told me to keep my head down in class from now on, and that if i wanted to help my friends i should give them my number and help them out on our own time. i was like “bro thats really stupid” and he was like “thats all we can do right now but i promise we’re working on it”

i lasted the rest of the year giving smug smiles as we did packet after fucking packet for the rest of the year. they were all take-home work. i wasnt comfy giving my number to my enemies. the class camaraderie ended.

the final was altered. my class took a different final than the rest of the normal chem classes.

i started 12th grade and got a solid case of senioritis. i told that story to anyone who would listen. while it was happening, i obviously told my favorite teacher everything as it happened. when i mentioned it senior year he was like “oh yeah i forgot about her,

she was fired over the summer.”

[comradeeatspants]

other big twitch streamers regularly make obvious and disgusting cash grabs ALL THE TIME 😭 this might the first time dream has ever been a traditional twitch streamers in the sense of begging for subs. mizkif, soda, other frogs do that shit x1000 to a degree that isn't even tolerable but dream does it once and all of a sudden hes "a money hungry manipulator". im sorry but it's ridiculous to be seriously mad at that joke of a stream, especially when you have other streamers with (bad) intentions that do EVER not donate to charity at the scale dream does do these annoying subathons or easy cash grabs 24/7. i think you should point your anger elsewhere, focus on the actual scummy streamers, not the guy that streams less than a dozen times a year. it's pointless

yeah ur right and this is the argument i use when people talk about stans and are all like “dream stans are ruining the world” meanwhile people are fostering communities full of disgusting people on twitch. however this is my blog and i talk about dream and the people that i like and choose to watch for a reason. there’s a REASON i like aksel and connor, partly because i like how they handle their audiences and streams and interactions with viewers. i’ve NEVER watched the dteam for those reasons, i’m more entertained by their personalities, and i’ve criticized their twitch etiquette in the past. i don’t talk about miz or other scummy streamers because i don’t watch them or care about them. i don’t know what mizkif or soda are up to like almost ever. i don’t think my crit posts on tumblr are gonna change the twitch world or anything i’m just posting things that annoy me and this annoyed me. and like i said earlier, i’m not like. Seriously mad. i know it seems like it because i was kinda aggressive in my first post and now i’m writing this long ass response but if it was something that Seriously made me mad or upset i wouldn’t really be posting discourse about it (ie. the past week or so)

[possiblypeachy]

Helloo, so i loooved your last sam drake fic. & I wanted to ask you if you could write a really angsty fanfic about sam with a younger female reader, like 20 years younger (she would be 23) ? I know its a huge age gap so if that makes you uncomfortable you can leave it out but make it hella angsty still (with a fluffy ending) ? thanks in advance ❤

btw im an infp too ;)

infps rise up!! 

thank you muchly for the request! i had to make some interesting google searches for this and i always count that as a win in my book!

y’know when your brain feel like a static TV? yeah, that happened to mine while writing this so i apologise in advance if this is in no way what you asked for :( HOWEVER i do hope you enjoy nonetheless! i do love sam; he’s just a little bastard :,)

warning: this details a heavy injury + a hospital trip so please don’t read on it that makes you feel horrible or anything! also, the reader is younger than same (as requested) but it’s not a like huge aspect of the plot.

if others like this too, feel free to request something from me! 

― ❊ ―

You had always been interested in the hidden corners of the world. For a species that boasted about being the most intelligent, humans knew so achingly little about the world in which they lived. So, when you decided adventure called to you more than any kind of degree could, you put out a few ads in a couple of places and a certain Drake wrote back, enlisting your help with… artefact recovery. You hadn’t expected so many gunfights or bruises or those dreaded mosquitos but you certainly didn’t regret the job, coming away with a few pirate-branded gold coins and a 40-something-year-old partner-in-crime.

You probably could’ve set up for life with those coins alone-- lived a quiet life in a suburb somewhere, joined a dating app and found the love of your life, adopted a puppy, maybe-- but when Sam had called you a month or so after your Madagascan escapade, that same excitement in his voice that you’d become so accustomed to, you didn’t even need a few days to consider before asking him when the next flight was.

Now, to say that going on this rodeo was a good idea could’ve been a lie; you were still young and sprightly, and many would beg (if they even got the chance) for you to reconsider-- oh, but you have such a long life ahead of you, why are you taking it for granted?

Screw them. You’d seen more beautiful things in the past year than they would in their entire lives. So what if you had a couple of scars and scrapes to prove it; it simply adds character.

Well… perhaps this particular scrape would change your perspective on that.

You and Sam had encountered one of those forsaken puzzle things; a series of statues and corresponding paintings behind them. Each held a dagger and held their hand out to shake, a conniving little smirk etched into the grey stone. You had been so achingly confident of the answer-- nothing had gone wrong so far and you were feeling chipper. So, when you called out to Sam that you’d solved it before him, that cocky little quirk to your lips that made him huff out a laugh and shake his head, you didn’t expect his face to drop so quickly, eyes darting from your smile to your abdomen.

There was a sudden, burning pain, and you lurched forwards toward the statue, placing one hand on its shoulder to keep yourself upright. Everything seemed to blur when you looked down, the jewelled dagger now withdrawing from your gut covered in blood. The statue looked as if it had never moved, if you discounted the bloodied weapon it held and the small pool that had accumulated at the base of it. Your free hand, shaking, came down to try to stop yourself from bleeding, fingers almost immediately red and warm. “Sam--” His name was coughed out, the tension it caused making you cry out in pain.

He had seen your smile drop, your eyes widen, the blood bloom across your shirt. He had watched the statue withdraw, that grin it held now dangerous. Oh, fuck. This couldn’t be happening. Sam had promised everyone-- he had promised you that nothing like this would happen. Of course he had fucked it. 

He was already there. He had been there immediately but, beyond the pain and shock, you hadn’t realised. “Holy shit! (Name)?” His hand came to your shoulder and, at the contact, you nearly crumpled, as if his touch had brought you back to reality. Unfortunately, along with that came the more acute realisation of how much fucking pain you were in.

“Oh, fuck! God--” You curled over and vomited. Fuck, it hurt. The movement made you grab at your wound more, muscles trying to tense but just searing with pain instead. Lifting your arm to wipe your mouth felt so much more difficult, lethargy already settling in it seemed.

Sam muttered something to himself, tucking his shoulder under yours and using his arm to help keep you propped up. “We’ll be alright-- you’ll be alright. We just have to get back to the car and--” he cut off, swearing, at least you thought; everything sounded like it was underwater-- muffled and slowed. 

You let your head drop a little, face contorted in pain with each step you took. This wasn’t supposed to happen-- this was never supposed to happen. These trips were meant to be all beautiful vistas and treasure. You didn’t mind the occasional gunfight and, while being punched square in the nose didn’t feel great, you’d let it happen more if only to walk into more of these preserved pieces of history all over the globe. But, this? Fuck this. You should’ve been more prepared.

“Everyone said--” you groaned again and, when you were finally able to muster the strength to look at Sam, he glanced down at you with such panic in his eyes that it almost made your chest churn more than your stomach, “They said this shit would be bad for me.” The laugh you gave was painful and you regretted it immediately, stumbling over your own feet when you tried to hold your abdomen-- as if that would provide some kind of relief. It did not. 

Sam furrowed his brows, moving you slightly to make sure you didn’t slip from his grip. “No, no-- it’s alright! You still got life in you.” He tried to laugh but it didn’t sound like him and that just made you spiral a little faster. “There are still places that are out there waiting for you, okay?” Sam’s voice was rushed, like he was torn between trying to comfort you and just trying to get you both the fuck out of here. 

The light of the outside was blinding, the sun bright and unyielding overhead. Sam fumbled with the keys in his back pocket and then there were the telltale beeps of a car being unlocked. The sound made him flinch but you were beyond that, wanting more than anything to just sleep. It was hard to focus on anything else, actually.

Sam bundled you into the back seat and you groaned at the way your body had to twist and curve into the backseat. Every breath hurt; it was like reliving the injury each time you inhaled. Your hand was blood-covered now but your shaking had died down. It took too much energy to shake-- Hell, it took way too much to even lift your eyelids again after each blink. 

When the driver’s door slammed, you jolted slightly-- like someone had dragged you out of the very early stages of sleep. “Sam,” you began, voice quiet; it was as though you were in another universe entirely, “are we gonna…” you trailed off, forgetting where you were. It was strange: you felt like the pain was subsiding. It was almost… peaceful. 

The car lurched into motion and you saw him glance at you through the rearview mirror. You thought he might’ve been saying something to you, his free hand reaching back to get your attention. Black encroached on your vision and your head lolled backwards briefly but you pulled it forward again soon after as though it were attached to some kind of bungee rope. Is this what dying felt like? 

Maybe you were okay with this. It was calm-- quiet, even. It was almost like the pain had become an afterthought-- a dull thrum in your abdomen. You would miss this, though: the adventures. You would miss the fact that everything seemed more colourful in other countries. You would miss the sweet tang of sea air and how free you felt on the open sea. Despite the blur in your vision, you tried to focus on Sam and his helpless mumbling. Tears welled in your eyes. God, you would miss him too. 

The next time you blinked, your eyes stayed closed.

---

A steady beeping woke you up. That and a horrible white light beating against your eyelids. You tried to groan but even that was difficult with how… disused your voice felt. A chair creaked to your right and then--

“(Name)?” 

It was him.

“Sam…” Trying to sit up was like an instinct but a hand came to your shoulder to keep you down. It was then that you finally opened your eyes, pupils struggling against the light. “Did you find the treasure?”

He breathed out a laugh-- almost like relief. “If you count shitty hospital coffee and the most uncomfortable chair ever as treasure, then yes.”

Your brows furrowed. “Hospital?” The strain on your voice made you cough. This was a bad reflex on your part. An ache flared up again in your lower stomach, and your arm flew there to support the injury. Now, everything was starting to come back. “Ah, shit. I remember. God.”

Beside you, his lips pursed. “Yeah. Almost got bested by a statue, honey.”

You gave him a look and he smiled. Despite his words, the normalcy of it all was comforting. “I may be bed-ridden but I’ll still hit you, old man.” There it was: that smile of yours. He struggled to even feign offence with how relieved he felt at seeing it. In fact, if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, he might’ve welled up a little. “Sam?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He rubbed his face before leaning onto your bed. “I was just worried, is all.”

He looked like he had done more than worried; the dark around his eyes told you of that. Quiet fell over you for a few moments and Sam took to rubbing your leg over the array of hospital blankets piled atop you. It was nice, comforting, and for a time you just allowed yourself to be. 

That was until he swallowed loudly-- nervously-- and withdrew his hand. “(Name), I, uh--” he cleared his throat-- not because he needed to but just so he could have a couple more seconds to think about what he was going to say, “I’ve been thinking about what happened, and I know that you’d disagree, but I’m not sure you should--”

You groaned as you shifted yourself up the bed, cutting him off. You knew what he was going to say: that you shouldn’t come on the next trip with him. That would turn into only the occasional call between the two of you, asking about his most recent escapades-- if had any spots open on the crew next time, to which he would decline. Then, there would only be texts-- a barren waste of white space between messages and timestamps that began to highlight the weeks and months between each text. “Don’t, Sam.” His brows furrowed and you pointed a finger at him, accusing. “I know what you’re going to say and I’m not going to listen to you.”

He pursed his lips briefly then pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. “You could’ve died. You can’t just fuckin’ die--” he leant forward so his ranting wouldn’t disturb any other hospital dwellers, “You can’t die yet; you’re-- what?-- twenty-three?”

“Oh, fuck off, Sam! I’m not a child; I can handle myself!”

In one gesture towards your injury, he had messed up. “Obviously fuckin’ not!”

Silence. Your mouth was agape and he flinched back immediately. For how many times people told Sam to think before he spoke, he hadn’t seemed to have learnt. When the words settled in, you leant away from him, back into the cushions behind you. “I think you should go.”

He blinked once. And, then again. “What?”

You couldn’t even look at him. “Get out. I’ll call a nurse if i need help since I obviously can’t look after myself--”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, (Name)--”

“How did you fucking mean it then, Sam?” He stood from the chair and it creaked-- the only noise in the room. You didn’t even want to give him the chance to give an excuse. “Or, am I too much of a child to understand what you mean?” In the middle of his pacing, he turned to face you, simply staring despite your ceaseless ranting. “Sorry that I’m such a huge fucking inconvenience to you! It’s not like the same kind of shit has ever happened to you or anything, huh?” He watched as your eyes began to well, face etched with frustration and betrayal, words spat out of your mouth like they put a bad taste there.

He had to cut you off or else you would carry on; you shouldn’t feel like this right after… everything that happened. God, he was such a dick. He shouldn’t have brought this up-- not now at least-- and now look at you: almost crying because of him in a hospital bed thank to stab wound that you got because of him and-- “I don’t want you to get hurt again because I fuckin’ care about you, (Name), okay?” It was his turn to rant now and your turn to stare at him. “And-- and, I have no idea what I would do with myself if you-- if you had fuckin’--” the noise he made was a mix between a sigh and growl, like he was annoyed at himself, then he leant against the end of your bed. A few moments passed; you didn’t know if you were supposed to say something to him during this or not but all you could fathom doing was to just stare at him, dumbfounded. Then, he breathed out a simple: “I’m sorry. For being a dick.”

You swallowed, gaze flickering away from him briefly. Then, you huffed out a laugh-- a terrible mix of amusement and disbelief. “Glad you can recognise it, Sam.” He blinked at you, then shook his head; that certainly wasn’t the response he expected. Something more biting-- venomous--perhaps, but not that. You gestured back to the seat that he had pulled up beside you and, with some degree of caution, he sat down again. You held out a hand and he took it, rubbing a thumb over the underside of it, touch light on your skin. “You can’t prove that this isn’t the painkillers speaking but,” it hurt to lean closer to him but you thought he was worth it-- even with the deer-in-headlights look he had, “I care about you too.”

It was then that he smiled-- grinned, even-- and you finally heard him laugh again. “Oh, I’m definitely holding that against you, (Name).”

“Will you hold this against me, too?” You pulled your hand away from his, only to place it on his face instead, thumb tracing a line over his cheek. His eyes flickered down to your lips, obviously unsure on if he should close the gap, that worry still bubbling in his lower stomach that he was daydreaming again. So, you did instead, the ache in your gut less pressing than your want to kiss him. It was short but to say it didn’t make your heart soar and a faint colour flush Sam’s ears would be a lie. You hand stayed there after, fingers reluctant to move away-- to lose him; the thought scratched at the back of your mind.

He let out a sigh of relief-- a little ‘hoo’ noise coming with it. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted that.”