#he’s also the only f/o I’m married to!! :)

[selfindulgentfandomstuff]

Just watched Star Trek Lower Decks which takes place a little while after the end of Star Trek Nemesis (<- boooo we all hate Nemesis in this household) and there was a Data appearance in one of the episodes I watched and my god I’m reminded of how much I love this guy <3333 my sweetest boy, Data, I love youuuu !!!! I need to take a pause from my Murdoc infested brain to draw some stuff with Data and Ethel (my self insert) tomorrow!!!!

Prettiest boy ever I need to kiss his nose and do parallel play with him while I draw and he paints right NEOWWW!!!!

[ramp-it-up]

Worth the Fall

Summary: James Bucky Barnes WAS an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Despite the fact you have questions about Bucky and your parents’ conversation at Thanksgiving, you’re hitting your groove as a couple, but there is no time for alone time.

Word count: 3.4 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This part of the story is getting everything caught up to a month ago, lmao. Thank you for continuing to rock with this story. And let me know if you like it (I hope you do!)

This fic is in the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after both You've Got Me Thinking and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Initial angst, Steve and Peach, Bucky’s anxiety. No time for nookie! Flirting Intimations of sexting and phone sex. Praise kink, fluffy Bucky, horny Bucky, dom Bucky. F@cking versus making love, wall time, sex with clothes on, raw p in v, creampie, after care, intimations of oral (f receiving!) dirty talk, Bucky applies for a second job. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

You walked along the sand and inhaled the ocean air.

You were shaken to the core. 

Bucky Barnes had surely just taken your parents out to ask for your hand in marriage. But it was so soon, how could he be so sure?

Also, you were an independent woman. How dare he talk to your parents before he asked you to marry him!

He wasn’t your feudal lord.

You were scared witless and turned to the waves to try and calm down. 

“He loves the hell out of you, you know.”

Steve had fallen in beside you as you stared at the ocean. You looked up at him, trying to smile, but failing. To Steve you looked terrified.

��It’s just so….”

Steve smiled to himself, remembering that Bucky had purchased the ring weeks before, after just a few days of knowing you. But that wasn’t his story to tell.

“Just know that I’ve never seen him like this. And I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s never been so open, so determined with a woman before. You make him a better man. It’s truly amazing.”

Steve looked so earnest. Your cousin had done quite a number on him.

“You don’t have to be scared. You are ‘The One’ for him.”

This time you managed a smile and an arched eyebrow. You had a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about his best friend.

Steve chuckled.

“Gah. Don’t look at me like that. You and Peach and that eyebrow.”

You laughed at that and grinned, more relaxed now.

Steve looked off into the waves himself.

“So fucking cute…”

He looked down and kicked a rock, a small smile on his face. You could tell he had it bad.

“Thanks for the pep talk Steve-o. And I get what you’re saying. I love Bucky Barnes with all my might, making every other relationship I’ve ever had seem… trivial.”

You glanced at Steve, who was nodding at your sentiment.

“I’m just spooked at the possibilities. I mean…this seems…like a lot.”

“I know. Bucky gets intense.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Understatement of the year. And you’re a lot like your friend.”

Steve looked at you, one eye closed from the sunlight in his eyes. He didn’t have any sunglasses and the sun highlighted his windswept hair and the planes of his handsome face. You were squinting at him and you could totally see why Peach let him touch her goodies. 

Steve was kinda hot.

You sighed.

“Listen. I’ll be alright. Bucky and I just need to chat.”

Steve smirked.

“Chat. Is that what the kids call it now?”

You laughed and swatted him on the arm as you continued walking again.

“Fuck you, Steve. But for real. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it. And I love you for it. I just wish my cousin could see this side of you.”

Steve scoffed.

“Fucked that up good, didn’t I?”

“Not gonna lie, she’s kinda blinded by rage right now. But don’t give up on her. She’ll come around.”

Steve looked at you skeptically and you shrugged.

“80– 75% chance she’ll come around.”

You both laughed.

“Just remember what I said yesterday. She’s a tough nut, but she has a huge heart behind that wall. She is determined about the success of that dance school and she is competitive as fuck. You know what to do.”

Steve grinned. 

“Yes ma’am, I do.”

—-

You and Steve re-entered the kitchen laughing, you holding on to his arm. 

Peach was at the table drinking coffee and dedicated to ignoring Steve.

“Thanks again for the pep talk Steve. I appreciate it.”

You gave him a long hug and when you separated, you saw Peach’s eyebrow cocked in what you could only imagine was the way Steve described. You stifled a giggle and leaned up on your tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“You better stop before Bucky comes back and chops me in the throat.”

Peach humphed, and you knew exactly what she was thinking.

You laughed at Steve as he headed toward the stairs, ignoring Peach right back.

“I’m gonna go get my running shoes. A turn down the beach will help me get some of this tension out.”

You watched Peach as she watched Steve roll his neck and stretch on his way out of the room, her coffee stalled in mid air. Her head was on a swivel as he walked out of the room, checking out his formidable ass. She sighed and then remembered that you were there.

You looked at her and she looked at you.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I didn’t say a word, cousin. Yet. But we will talk later. Any coffee left?”

—-

The week ended up smoother than when Bucky and Steve arrived, and before you and he and Steve left on the jet back to New York, Bucky surprised everyone with an invitation to Vermont for Christmas. 

Your heart did a funny little thing because why would he invite your entire family on an all expense holiday vacation from Christmas Eve to New Years unless he was going to…

You couldn’t dwell on what ifs, and you didn’t want to spook yourself. You just decided to appreciate the moment.

It was funny watching your cousin’s face and the corresponding look on Steve’s. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be stressful at all.

Perhaps there would be entertainment.

—---

Later, back in Brooklyn, there was a whirlwind of activity as the Rebirth Foundation geared up for the annual summit and gala. 

During the second week in December, Rebirth Endowment recipients (which included your cousin this year!) flew in, were oriented and toured around New York City. The two culminating events were the summit, held at NYU, where there was an art lecture series, a panel, and the gala. 

Steve usually participated in the summit by himself, with Sam or Natasha sometimes joining him on stage along with the city’s movers and shakers in the art scene.

But this year Bucky was participating.

He said he wanted to be more prominent in the Art community moving forward as a path toward legitimacy, and you knew that tangentially, that had something to do with you.

When you got back from Thanksgiving, there was a week to prepare for the activities. Your Arts and Culture Alliance in Brownsville, as a part of Rebirth through the Howard Benson exhibit, was a stop on the tour, and you had a ton of work to do. 

Bucky and his three partners obviously had their own long list of to dos, but he also needed to be there for Steve, who was a wreck at the thought of Peach coming into town. 

Steve was so far gone.

But James Buchanan Barnes.

You’d never seen Bucky Barnes shook. 

Sure, you’d seen him excited, impatient, horny, angry, and a little irritated, but never truly nervous.

And you shouldn’t have thought it, but it was adorable. 

Friday night, you met your cousin at the airport and witnessed the beginning of her downfall. The cocktail reception later at the hotel had her, and by proxy your own, head spinning. 

You grinned at the way Steve was handling everything. 

Bucky was beautiful and you admired him as he toasted the guests, his beautiful tenor a nice contrast from Steve’s baritone as they both gave their salutations. Only you knew how anxious he was to speak in front of people and for everything to go well. You felt privileged.

You realized that James Buchanan Barnes was a good man who just wanted to be better for you and for his community.

And suddenly you were not afraid of a future with him.

—-

During this time, you two shared brief cuddles and quick kisses, furtive touches and brief bouts of handholding when you saw each other at events. The mornings meant salacious pictures and quick phone sex to take the edge off, but you weren’t able to luxuriate in each other as you usually did.

You missed Bucky’s full attention, but the fact that you were working together on something worthwhile was the shit. You loved this man and you wanted to work beside him as an equal, not just be his sex toy.

This was the week that you fell completely in love with Bucky Barnes.

Thursday was the day of the Rebirth Art Summit and Bucky was pacing up and down his home office, reading glasses switching locations from perched on top of his head, to his delectable mouth, to his handsome face as he reviewed his notes.

You looked up from the ones in your hands with which you were quizzing him and smiled at him.

“Jamie, it’s going to be okay.”

He stopped to look at you, a faint smile on his face. He came over and pecked you on the lips and gave you a hug.

“‘M so glad you are here tonight, even though you tried to stay away.”

You sighed into his chest and took a deep breath, inhaling his Bucky smell.

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I was just giving you space. I know tomorrow is important to you and I don’t want to distract—”

“Frumoasă. You don’t distract from anything. If anything, you add to my life. You add so, so much. I love you. And I miss you. I want you here with me tonight.”

You melted into him, chuckled and shook your head as he held you. This feeling was crazy.

“What?”

You heard his voice in his chest, but he didn’t move, except to sway just a little, as if soothing you. It worked.

“I love you too, Bucky. And I miss you too. So much. It’s wild to feel so much in such a short amount of time.”

You and Bucky had only been together about three months, but you knew this was it.

“When you know, you know, my love. And we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

You hugged him tighter. What was understood didn’t need to be said.

He kissed the top of your head and then moved back so he could see into your eyes.

“And having you in my space while I get ready for an important event is everything.”

You looked him in the eye, thinking of sucking his dick for being such a dream.

“Bucky…”

Bucky took your hand and raised it to his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that, Frumoasă. I will be forced to fuck you all night long, something that is long overdue.”

He kissed your forehead.

“But there is much work to do.”

You cast your eyes down and whispered, “You’re right.”

Bucky took you in, looking so demure and being so patient with him. It was such a turn on.

“Such a Good Girl for me.”

You wanted to fall to your knees, but you just bit your lip and went to sit back down, crossing your legs as you began quizzing him again. 

Soon, you told your pulsing pussy. Soon.

You worked late into the night and soon dozed on the leather couch in his study. The next morning, you woke in Bucky’s bed with a sweet note on your pillow. You smiled and knew that he’d carried you to bed and held you all night long.

—--

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

You sucked your teeth at your cousin’s comment, but you didn’t pull your gaze away from Bucky up on the dias the next day at NYU. 

You were proud and in awe of your man. Your smirk turned into a grin as he glanced at you and started to speak.

You were down bad. And Bucky was too. After almost two weeks with little to no physicality, your energy was at supernova strength and about to cause a black hole in the universe.

That’s how intense this thing was. 

You were wet and hard and soft in all the right places.

Bucky had to pause frequently for the interpreter, and it gave you a chance to make googly eyes at each other. You ignored Peach’s subtle retching noises as you concentrated on Bucky. But you cut your eyes over to her while Steve spoke and found her visibly eye fucking him. You smirked when she noticed you noticing.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

She was trying to distract you. You laughed.

“Fucking-A.” 

You nodded up at the stage.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You were shocked as hell when she responded.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

You elected not to tease her about her response. It seemed as if Steve was working the plan.

You resumed watched as Bucky did his thing. He was glowing, handsome and impressive as hell. No one would believe he was as introverted as he was. But he was flourishing in the spotlight, seemingly born for his. He exuded confidence. 

It was such a turn on.

—-

Bucky watched you watching him and talking to your cousin and knew your tells. You were probably wet and ready for him. He briefly thought of what he was going to do to you later before he refocused on the task at hand. Knowing you were there for him was such motivation.

When he made his way back over to you, you were an angel, giving him a huge hug and exclaiming, “You were so fucking good up there, Jamie! I’m so proud of you.”

Bucky felt his heart explode and although someone was pulling him away from you, he mouthed a promise in your direction.

—-

“Later...”

You definitely read those sexy lips and your heart started racing. You looked around for your cousin, expecting to be roasted, but she was nowhere to be found. You shrugged and made your way to the subway, assuming that she was gathering with the other recipients. There was more work to do in Brownsville and you were busy anticipating the night.

You waited all day for Bucky’s text to tell you what time Nico was picking you up, but it never came. The rest of the day flew by and by the time you were walking home, daydreaming of dressing up for the gala tomorrow night and what Bucky might wear, you happened to check your phone and saw messages he’d sent just 10 minutes before:

You looked so good today. Especially this morning. Good enough to eat.

I’ll be at your place in 30. Wear that bra, no top, that skirt, no panties, and those heels.

You blushed and thought of the mirror selfie of the cream lace lingerie set you were wearing underneath your cream colored cowl neck sweater and grey wool pencil skirt that matched your grey wool coat.

Yes, Daddy, you replied and picked up the pace to make it to your brownstone ahead of him, your heart beating a mile a minute.

You thought you were prepared when you opened the door after Bucky knocked, but you weren’t.

In fact, you were shaking with anticipation.

There he was, bundled up from the cold, but those blue eyes sparkling down at you.

Bucky stared at you for a beat, and then walked toward you, taking your face in his hands and backing you up against the entryway wall, kicking the door closed behind him.

“My Frumoasă. So good. So perfect”

And then he leaned down and kissed you.

—-

Bucky had the strangest thought as you opened your door.

I’m home.

Although this was not his place, he realized that you were his home and that he couldn’t wait to make you his wife. His eyes swept down your form, pleased that you had followed instructions. You were such a badass, capable woman and partner and he just had to be inside you soon. 

He complimented you and his cock stiffened as your mouth parted in desire. He knew your praise kink very well. Bucky cradled your beautiful face and moved inside to kiss you.

His demanding mouth parted your trembling lips, sending tremors through your body. You clung to the lapels of his coat to tether you to earth as his tongue invaded your mouth. You suckled it, previewing what you wanted to do with his cock later. 

He pulled away, his bright blue eyes blazing, and his jaw clenched so tight as he shrugged out of his winter coat. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d think he was angry, but the look was desire. 

And only for you. You grew warm from the inside out.

“I can’t wait. Wanna make love to you, but I have to fuck you now.”

Bucky bent his knees and grabbed your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him and hold on to him as he walked you over to your couch.

You attacked his face as you were sat down firmly on the bulge in his pants and Bucky accepted your assault, chuckling as you kissed him from his hairline, to his forehead, down his nose, each cheek, skipping over his lips to his stubbly dimpled chin and finally back to that mouth. When he kissed you again, his hands were everywhere, starting at the nape of your hair, pulling so your neck was exposed as his mouth moved down to mark you up, then trailing down to your fine lace bra cups.

Bucky palmed your full breasts, weighing them in his hands and watching your face as he twisted your nipples. You nipples tightened under his touch and you arched your back, moving and giving him a view of what was underneath your skirt. He admired your ardor, you squirming and moaning on his lap.

It was his dream come true.

“So fucking hot, Frumoasa. I’ve been craving you. All day. All week. Ever since Thanksgiving. Since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Bucky…need you.”

You grasped the lapels of his jacket as his hand traveled down your torso and as he leaned down to travel under the hem of your skirt. Your soft fingers peeled his jacket away and unbuttoned his shirt. You opened it and ran your hands down his chest, rubbing his nipples with your thumb and trailed your hand down to his happy trail and proceeded to try and undo his belt buckle.

Bucky grew hot at the warmth of your thick thighs and the way your cunt was so hot that he could feel it through his pants. 

He had to have it. 

Panting now and desperate, Bucky tugged your skirt up, flashing your bare pussy, but it was difficult to get rid of because it was still buttoned. It slipped out of his hands and he grunted in frustration.

“Ah, poor baby…” 

You leaned forward, brushing the locks of hair that had fallen into his flushed face, grazing your nipples across your chest with a sexy smile.  Bucky whimpered and you smirked at his desperation. You slowly reached behind you to your zipper, pushing your chest toward Bucky’s face. He licked his lips and pulled your bra cups down, causing your warm breasts to spill out and his hands to be drawn to them again like magnets as he watched you loosen your skirt.

When you grabbed the hem to bring it over your head, he released you, watching as the fabric moved above your crotch.

Your pussy. Fuck.

Bucky could never get enough of staring at it, the dark petals, which were spread open for him as you sat on his lap were calling his name. He licked his lips, suddenly parched.

“What are you thinking about, Bucky?”

You had a pretty good idea, but you wanted, no needed, to hear Bucky’s voice right now. You reached behind you again as you unclasped your bra and suddenly you were naked on an essentially fully dressed Bucky Barnes.

It was sexy as hell. 

“I’m thinking that your pussy is a work of art, Frumoasă. It’s perfect. I’m thinking that I want to spend at least eight hours a day between your legs, make you cum over and over again, make you beg me to stop, and to start again. How I want you to taste you and make you squirt so I can swallow you down…”

You moaned and started grinding on his bulge, causing Bucky to curse.

��Damn, Baby. You’re gonna make me jizz in my pants like a teenager.”

Bucky grabbed your ass and reached between you to tease your clit, feeling how wet you were.

“Fuuuuuck, you’re so wet.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled as he grabbed your waist and lifted you to your knees on either side of him as he unzipped his pants and pulled them and his underwear just down past his ass to get his cock out. He grabbed your cheek as he stroked himself and rubbed his thick cock head in your juicy pussy.

“Fuck me Frumoasa. Slide down this dick for me.”

You brushed Bucky’s hair off his forehead again as you nodded and started to slide down his fat, hard cock. Your head lolled back on your neck as you reached the root of him.

“Oh… Bucky… Fuck….”

You could feel Bucky pounding inside you, long thick cock battering your cervix and you whined, leaning back and working your hips as Bucky fucked up into you and thumbed your clit while the other hand guided you up and down his dick. 

His jaw was clenched and his eyes were shining as he looked up at you. You knew he was close and you couldn’t take it.

He started to speak and you knew it was over.

“Frumoasă. I-I’m gonna need you to… oh holy fuckkkkkk!”

His stutter made you start to cum.

As soon as your pussy started spasming around him, Bucky started shooting his spend all over your warm walls causing you to convulse and hug his head to your chest. He clutched you to him, whimpering as he held onto you for dear life as he came.

He collapsed backwards, taking you with him as you became boneless in his arms. You rolled off of him and curled up on the couch as Bucky stood and untangled himself from his clothes.

You closed your eyes for a minute as he got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth to clean you up. When he finished, he kissed your forehead and gathered you up in his arms.

“You turn me on like no one else, Frumoasă. You’re it for me. I love you.”

You cuddled into him as he lay you in your bed.

“Me too, Bucky. You’re my one. I love you, too.”

Bucky kissed your forehead again, and then proceeded to move down your body.

“Good, now. I need to clock into my main occupation. Hour one of eight.…”

—-

If you like it, hit Reblog! ☺️

Read the next part, Peach IV (SR)

[callsign-mayhem]

heartbreak feels so good (part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

Part Two Part Three

After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too. 

He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.

And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him. 

Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly. 

Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.

‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’

It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.

‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’ 

It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious. 

Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.

You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification. 

‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow. 

You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly. 

‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’

Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’

This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then. 

He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away. 

‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted.  ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’  ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.

Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.

Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac. 

Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone. 

‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’  ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start.  Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’

Being this transparent was embarrassing. 

‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’

You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.

‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.

‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’

Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs. 

As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection. 

While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over. 

‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’

Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.

‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’

The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that. 

‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’

You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage. 

‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’  ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’

Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either. 

Bradley needed another drink. 

In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you. 

‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.

His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him. 

‘What’s up, Y/CS?’

Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next. 

‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’

Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed. 

‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’

She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence. 

A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’  Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’  ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’

An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later. 

But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing. 

‘Y/N’s phone.’ 

A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life. 

‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’  ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’

Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse. 

‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’

Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already. 

‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him. 

Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.

Not that you’d want to escape. 

Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.

That’s when it hit you.

You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed. 

‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’

He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.

‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’

A wave of nausea hit you. 

‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’

You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.

‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’

You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad. 

What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.

The worst part was you saw it coming.

‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’

Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

‘Move.’

He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.

‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’

Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.

You called Elijah. 

He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time. 

Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you. 

It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand. 

What a beautiful night to have your heart broken. 

There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way. 

You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach. 

You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley. 

He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it. 

‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’

You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders. 

‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’

Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you. 

‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’

He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.

‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly. 

Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point. 

‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’

You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.

In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’ 

Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out. 

Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact. 

You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love. 

Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’

Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.

‘Apparently not.’

You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed. 

‘This is news to me too.’

The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night. 

‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’

He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it. 

The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way. 

Which was to say, it was a bad morning. 

After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed. 

When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now. 

To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover. 

With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast. 

Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door. 

Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time. 

You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised. 

You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again. 

‘Bradley?’

He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.

‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’

He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he 

perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all. 

‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’

You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee. He eyed you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check that you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly. 

‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly.  ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’ 

Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally. 

‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’ 

While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no. 

‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’

The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.

‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’ 

You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy. 

‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’ 

This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed. 

You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try. 

‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’

You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah. 

When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop. 

‘Thanks for breakfast.’  You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’

Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you. 

But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home. 

‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’

Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave. 

‘I’d love to.’

It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.

Because he really didn’t want to go home. 

He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.

A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.

‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’ 

The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said. 

It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else. 

E<3: always knew you were a slut.

You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text. 

E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.

The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise. 

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’ 

It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.

Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would. 

‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you?  ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’ 

The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions. 

‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.

Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts. 

‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled

So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.

‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’

You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested. 

‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’

You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever. 

‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’

From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him. 

‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time. 

The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it. 

Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly.  He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’ 

He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.

‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’

The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.

‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’

Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.

‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired.  You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’

The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much. 

‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’

Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.

And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart. 

‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.

Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. 

‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’ 

He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything. 

By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly. 

If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears. 

Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly. 

For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day. 

He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them. 

But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.

End of part one.

[baekhyunsbestie]

⠀ ALL MY WORKS ARE NSFW

⠀AND FOR 18+ READERS ONLY

🚨 ‼️ QUICK PSA ‼️ 🚨 if you’re a minor or don’t have an age indicator on your blog and i catch you in my notifications interacting with any of my posts, i will block you. it’s super simple—just drop a “not a minor” or “adult” in your bio, and you’re good to go! i reeeaaally don’t like blocking anyone, but i’d rather be cautious and avoid any chance of minors stumbling onto my content. i know this might not keep every minor away, but it’s one way to set some boundaries. thanks for understanding! 🥹💞

now, for my ADULT besties, please feel free to continue!!🫡 just make sure to check out the content warnings and summaries first, as there could be potential triggers.

˗ˏˋ and please remember that YOU are in full control of your online experience!! so if you choose to explore my blog, browse through my fics, and click that "keep reading" button, know that it’s totally on you and your choice! ˎˊ˗

but i’m so glad you’re here and i hope you enjoy all the smut!! happy reading and be safe out there, lovies!! ଘ(ᵕ˵ ૩ᵕ)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

⠀⠀ ⠀⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ series .ᐟ

sparks and vows (ongoing)┊current wc: 18k+

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyunx f!reader, romance, wedding!au, angst, fluff, exos and oc’s, pussy whipped!baek, ex-playboy!baek, ceo nepo baby!reader, smut probs every chapter ngl, p in v, oral (both f+m receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight exhibitionism, language, scenes with alcohol +/or smoking, pretty tame tho tbh!!!

ALL MINE! ┊ wc: 8.5k

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun x f!reader. no specified age, but i'd say they're somewhere in their early-to-mid 20’s cus i can only imagine people w/o fully developed frontal lobes behaving this way, respectfully 😭🙂‍↕️ bff's to fwb's to bff's again to strangers to lovers. fluff, angst, and it ain’t a baekhyunsbestie fic if it don’t got some good ol’ nasty smuuuttttt. pet names, praise kink, cheating, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie after creampie after creampie (baekhyun deffo has breeder balls, don’t @ me), overstimulation (both f + m). you both are just two big meanie idiots who are in love with each other.

easy peasy┊wc: 4.6k

⟢ prequel to all mine :') ⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun x f!reader. scenes with weed + alcohol, mutual pining, friends to fwb, pet names, lots of swearing. SMUT!!! porn w plot literally, masturbation (both m + f), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, praise, p in v. baekhyun is pretty obsessive in this.

hopelessly devoted to you┊current wc: 1.2k

⟢ an ex-husband!baekhyun x ex-wife!reader series ⟢ content: SFW (for now), angst, longing, yearning. divorce. explicit language. pet names. jealous baek.

LOVERBOY┊current wc: 1.5k

⟢ a fratboy!baekhyun x f!reader series ⟢ content: rated E for everybody........for now :)

⠀⠀ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ONE-SHOTS .ᐟ

home┊wc: 4.4k

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyunx f!reader, established relationship, pet names, language, baekhyun’s a lil yandere and pussy-whipped (i mean ofc i cant imagine him any other way), a REAL EATER iykwim, v v v intimate, fluffyyyyy. reader and baek take a huge step in their relationship <3

do you like scary movies?┊wc: 5.3k+

⟢ ib: this anon (๑ > ᴗ < ๑) ⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. language, ghostface!baekhyun x f!reader--baekhyun is a psychologist and reader is a bakery owner, no ages specified, but i was thinking mid-late twenties!! they're also next-door neighbors 🙂‍↕️ hehe

the boy is mine ┊wc: 1.9k+

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. established relationship, language, pet names, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie

god is a woman┊wc: 5.6k

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun x f!reader. you’re a milf, baekhyun’s a dilf, and he calls you “ma” + “mama” :’), married!au, new parents, slice of life, angst + fluff, pet names, body worship, breastfeeding kink, fingering + oral + overstim (f! receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, breeding kink, and a whole lot of baekhyun talking you through it 😮‍💨 phhheeeeewwwww

been away┊wc: 1.3k

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. facetime sex w/ baekhyun x f!reader. ⟢ BONUS 🤭

truth be told┊wc: 24.2k

⟢ requested by this lovely anonie <3 :') ty baby! ⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. pediatrician!baekhyun x f!reader. chanyeol x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. lovers to strangers to co-parents to lovers again. angst, slow burn, fluffy, then we get reaaaallll smutty ⟡ pet names, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, p in v, bulge kink, creampie, slight breeding kink (y'all should know me by now 🤟🏼😣) ⟡

choose┊wc: 22.5k

⟢ an arranged marriage au req’d by this qt anonie <3 :’) ty lovie! ⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. sehun x f!reader. arranged marriage au. strangers to friends to lovers. the trifecta: angst, fluff, smut ⟡ alcohol consumption, explicit language, jealousy on both sides, solo masturbation (baek), pet names, praise kink, body worship, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, breeding kink, creampie ⟡

CHILL BABY┊wc: 19.3k

⟢ a continuation of this :') switched up on the setting but the plot’s still p much the same hehe <333 ⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun x f!reader. jongin x f!reader. mentions of other exos. jealous!baekhyun. corporate!au. enemies to lovers. fake dating. ⟡ fluff & smut ⟡ alcohol consumption, explicit language, pet names, praise kink, body worship, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie ⟡ 

⠀⠀ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ misc .ᐟ

ᡣ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 drabbles, thirsts + headcanons can be found here!!!!

TOUCH IT!┊wc: 955

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun and those damn fingers x f!reader

WAKE UP┊wc: 764

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. f!reader waking baekhyun up w/ her mouth, language, pet names, somnophilia, oral (m receiving)

BACKhyun┊wc: 422

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun and his back 😵‍💫 x f!reader

muse┊wc: 958

⟢ content: no warnings (ikr who am i). suuuuper soft n fluffy! baekhyun is a landscape photographer and f!reader is his muse :')

DROWN┊wc: 2.5k+

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun's lips x f!reader.

raw┊wc: 450

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun x f!reader's "first time" lmfao

boy dad!baekhyun┊wc: 433

⟢ content: no warnings <3 just baekhyun as a boy dad

girl dad!baekhyun:┊wc: 434

⟢ content: no warnings <3 just baekhyun as a girl dad

hair┊wc: 186

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun x f!reader. hair pulling, oral (f!receiving)

picture you┊wc: 1.6k+

⟢ content: SMUT. 18+/MDNI. baekhyun x f!reader. baekhyun calls you when he’s going through his hidden folder on his photos app 🤭

©️ BAEKHYUNSBESTIE

[raisedbythetv89]

The writers I think mostly completely by accident with the assistance of James charming his way into becoming a main character created the perfect storm to ensure people who love spike would reach absolute peak levels of being completely obsessively deranged about him forever

Season 2:

He’s a punk rock villain with killer cheekbones, enchanting eyes, and an absolutely DEVILISH smile - who’s an incredibly dedicated and dangerous fighter who specifically seeks out challenging fights he’s not guaranteed to win (brave and reckless - normally traits seen in heroes) hates everyone except his mentally ill physically sick wife (the statistics of men who leave their wives when they get sick in the US is horrifying like nurses literally have to warn married women who get sick it happens so often) who he’s hopelessly devoted to and unbelievably soft with and always listens to her while also exuding a psychotic amount of sex appeal and is just F U N he loves being a vampire and he loves fighting and it makes it so much fun for the audience. While still showing how much he respects and admires his enemy for her skill, strength, resourcefulness, and intelligence - NEVER underestimating her just because she’s a tiny blonde girl - and instead of destroying the world for love he SAVES the world for love - a villain doing good to get the love of his life back who essentially dumped him for her ex????????? D E V O T E D and shockingly extremely trustworthy??? And has amazing chemistry with our heroine and is there for a pivotal moment in her life and is the only one there for her when she has no one else????? *enemies to lovers girlies ENTER THE CHAT*

Season 3:

He shows he fucking MEANS IT when he says Dru is the love of his life when he shows up in Sunnydale because he blames Angel not Buffy or Drusilla but the man actually responsible for all their problems and he is the most pathetic mess we’ve ever SEEN!!!! He’s crying and drunk all the time and he’s so sad he goes to Buffy’s mom TO TALK 💀😭 our pathetic sensitive little self admitted lover boy who KNOWS he’s love’s bitch and he won’t be pretending he’s anything otherwise who shows how clearly he sees and understands other people and the depths of his emotional intelligence so much so Buffy herself admits she can’t fool Spike she can fool her friends BUT NOT SPIKE OR HERSELF EXCUSE ME MA’AM WHAT???????

AND Spike doesn’t just uselessly MOPE forever he gets some perspective and is like I know what I’m gonna do to her back and I’m gonna go do that now! 😁👍🏻 showing he never stays down for long and is always gonna get back up to keep fighting for his love while BOTH he and Buffy still honor the truce even though he’s broken it by coming back??? While Buffy’s all “I violently dislike you” YEAH OK GIRL WHATEVER YOU SAY *enemies to lovers girlies chomping at the bit intensifies*

Season 4:

CLEARLY heartbroken about Drusilla (DEVOTED!!!) but it’s turned into anger and resentment directed at Harmony who how bizarre looks nothing like Drusilla but A LOT like Buffy…… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOW INTERESTING *enemies to lovers girlies are vibrating with anticipation that turns into a full blown combustion when something blue happens*

Spike doesn’t pretend to love Harmony in order to get what he wants from her (shown in direct contrast to Parker) he’s ironically very honest despite being a villain - he’s showing he’s STILL loyal to Drusilla in ONLY loving her even after she’s dumped him... again!

We see Spike treat Buffy the EXACT same way he treated Drusilla during something blue reaffirming THIS IS HOW THIS MAN LOVES WHEN HE LOVES YOU. He’s extremely affectionate, helpful, protective, caring - D E V O T E D - and is truly just the most certified lover boy we’ve ever fucking seen

Season 5:

SURPRISE HE’S SECRETLY A LOVESICK MAMA’S BOY POET AT HEART UNDERNEATH THE BAD BOY PERSONA AND A PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER AND NOW BUFFY AND HER FAMILY’S MOST LOYAL DEFENDER AND IS WILLING TO DIE NOT JUST FOR BUFFY BUT FOR ALL THE SUMMERS WOMEN AND HE KNOWS AND SEES BUFFY SO DEEPLY AND INTIMATELY AND CAN HOLD SPACE FOR HER PAIN LIKE NO ON ELSE CAN AND SHOWS THE DEVOTION THAT ONCE BELONGED TO DRUSILLA NOW BELONGS TO BUFFY AND IT IS GOING NOWHERE EVEN WHEN SHE DIES AND WE'VE SEEN IN HIM CRY BEFORE BUT NEVER HAVE WE SEEN HIM BREAK DOWN LIKE HE DOES AT THE SIGHT OF BUFFY'S BODY!!!!!!!!!!!

*all of us screaming, crying, throwing up, climbing the walls and generally just losing our minds*

Season 6:

No soul, his love is so great for Buffy as is his loyalty and devotion to her, he now helps all of his dead love’s friends fight evil and is raising her sister and dreams of saving her every night for 148 nights 🤚🏻😭 don’t even fucking talk to me I can’t take it

Forgive the absolute 180 in tone change here:

Dick game is FIRE - his touch is the only thing that makes Buffy feel alive AND SHE WAS IN HEAVEN BRO SHE KNOWS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE IN HEAVEN AND SPIKE IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING HER GOING like damn girl yes YOU FUCK THAT HOUSE DOWN!!! Also he is now just naked 50% of the time just to drive us all even FURTHER out of our minds and somehow has just gotten even hotter as the seasons have gone on like this is what’s been hiding under the leather jacket all this time! Enjoy!

And THE MOST unintended consequence of jw’s vindictive writing:

SPITE

He clearly didn’t want us to love Spike and tried to manipulate us into hating him in such a blatant and clumsy ooc attempt all that did was weed out the weakest amongst the Spuffy/Spike fans until all that remained were us:

The most devoted and stubborn fans who REFUSED to have the thing they loved ruined or taken away from us and were smart enough to see through his bullshit manipulation attempt in the first place.

Genuinely they created the equivalent of supersoilder strength level fans with this absolutely lethal combination of events 💀

AND THEN as if all that wasn't enough he goes and gets his soul on purpose for Buffy so he can be the man she deserves and she can love him without hating herself for loving him despite the immense pain it will cause him which is the most selfless thing we have ever seen anyone do for Buffy only to be topped when he sacrifices himself to destroy the hellmouth, save the world and free her from Sunnydale!!! Plus ya know once he gets the soul even though he did it for her he never tries to use that as leverage to get anything from her like he truly expects nothing from her at all but still wants to help her and James delivers the most devastating performances we've ever fucking seen, finally tells her friends off which has needed to happen for 5 seasons, the "you're the one speech" him being a dad to all the potentials with Buffy giving us supernatural parent core who made it through their rough patch with their first kid in season 6 with Dawn and now are just the beautiful team with their found family and Buffy finally has someone who can truly carry her burdens with her and just all the tenderness and devotion they both deserve after so many years of pain and fighting. Basically giving the audience the message that even if you have a metric ton of pain and trauma there are people out there who see you and understand you and there is a chance for you to heal both together and separately to build your own version of a more normal and stable life. It's a message of such hope and I personally know several people, including myself who watched what Spike and Buffy have and it inspired us to look at the relationships we were in and realize we deserved SO MUCH MORE than what we were getting and in my case it turned out I was being emotionally abused and manipulated that entire time!! Much like Buffy was by both Riley and Angel. So it isn't an exaggeration to say Spuffy saved my life in a lot of ways both in being there for me at such a dark time and helping me draw a map of how to get out. Not to mention loving them in fandom spaces has helped me connect with so many people just like me who share very similar experiences and have helped me feel so much less alone and has helped me heal in so many ways 🖤

Spuffies get "hOw cAn yOu liKe sPiKe aFtEr wHaT hE dId" all the fucking time and truly the better question is how can you NOT like Spike???? HAVE YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT GOOD RELATIONSHIPS NEED TO WORK?? BECAUSE AT THEIR CORE SPUFFY HAS THEM ALL!

It's jw writing so NOTHING will escape his toxic bullshit but Spike - because he was hated by jw for so long - so much of the time when he tried to make Spike less popular he just kept making him better and more complex and more and more targeted to the female gaze which is exactly why he snapped and made the choices he literally forced everyone else to go along with despite their protests with that scene to make it the most traumatizing scene in all of Buffy history not just for the audience but for the actors as well because yes it is incredibly horrific and upsetting to watch (which is why I skip it on rewatches) but I still am able to see if for what it is which is a narcissist lashing out at people he hates because he hasn't been able to control them and too bad for him I refuse to be manipulated by his bullshit so it failed completely and made so many of us that much more stubbornly protective of Spike and his and Buffy's relationship not just from other fans but from the creator himself 🙃🖕🏻like he basically just trauma bonded us to Spike and Buffy which has led to the creation of one of the most devoted, loyal, intelligent fanbases who is absolutely unhinged (affectionate) with their love of this character and his relationship which is why we are all still creating and writing about this character 25 year later and show absolutely zero signs of slowing down or stopping 💀

[pascalispretty]

arrangement

Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings/Tags: 1950s AU/Golden Age of Hollywood AU, arranged marriage, implied bisexuality, brief references to period typical homophobia

Summary: Tabloid gossip threatens to derail your promising film career. Luckily the studio has a solution; they've arranged for you to marry their Academy Award-winning screenwriter, Javi.

A/N: written for the @pedrostories Secret Santa event for @wardenparker! Arranged marriage and period drama from your prompt list really inspired me, as did rereading the Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! (ao3)

“You’re not serious.” Your glass is raised halfway to your mouth; it’s only when the beads of condensation start to soak through your gloves that you remember it at all. You set it down on the desk and concentrate on peeling the soaked silk off your hands. It’s late and it’s New Year’s Eve – nobody is going to be looking at your hands anyway.

“I know it’s not ideal, kiddo-” Jack starts. As producers go, he’s pretty good. Or rather, he knows how to make a picture and he’s never bargained blowjobs for better parts, which makes him a damned saint by Hollywood standards.

“Not ideal?” You snap, abruptly cutting him off. “You know the rumours are horseshit. As soon as they see me as Cathy-”

“You’ll never play Cathy if you don’t wise up and listen to what I’m telling you. The studio isn’t pleased, kiddo.” Jack stubs the end of his cigarette out aggressively in the ashtray, grinding it against the glass with rather more force than is necessary.

You wait as he flicks his cigarette case open and lights another. The tension in the room is almost as thick as the smoke hanging hazy in the air. Jack sighs deeply, and pushes his hair back from his forehead.

“Look. I love you. The studio loves you. The studio spent a lot of money turning you into a bona fide movie star. And you playing Cathy, well. That’s Oscar potential right there, baby. But-”

You open your mouth to argue, and he cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“But the studio will drop you faster than you can blink if people think you’re a lesbian.”

You’re glad you put the champagne down; you might have dropped it otherwise to hear that word fall from his mouth. The knot of anxiety in your stomach that’s been there since the photos were splashed on the cover of Hush Hush feels like it grows three sizes.

It had been innocent enough. Her hand on your back, where your dress dipped low and left your shoulderblades exposed. It’d hadn’t stopped the tabloids from running with it, running any photo of the two of you they could find and writing articles full of thinly-veiled innuendo.

“I’m not. The rumours are-”

“Not going away. I’m sorry, kiddo, really. I know you’re not so hot on getting married again after Marcus died.” It’s an understatement. You never used your married name at work, but you found yourself signing a cheque only yesterday with ‘Mrs M. Pike’. You force yourself to smile.

“So does the studio have a candidate in mind? Some prized stud?”

“Yes, actually. You know Javi? He adapted the script for Agamemnon, and he won the Oscar last year for that comedy with the Coppola kid?” You do know Javi. You’d met him when Agamemnon was in production, your first serious role. He’s handsome, you can’t deny that. You’d seen his soft brown curls and big dark eyes at the table read and wondered which part he was playing, before he’d been introduced as the writer.

And kind, too. When Marcus had died ten days into filming for Agamemnon, he’d sent flowers with everyone else. He’d also written you a letter, short but kind, offering to bog the director down with rewrites if you wanted more than a weekend off to grieve. You hadn’t taken him up on it, but the gesture had stayed with you.

“And he agreed to this? Or are you springing an arranged marriage on him tonight too?”

“He agreed. He’s ah- he’s in a similar predicament to you, kiddo. Tabloid trouble, rumour mill keeps on churning. It’s not the worst thing in the world, is it? This way, you can help each other out for a year or so, stop the rumours, and quietly split once they’ve moved onto their next target.”

You hate that Jack sounds pretty convincing right now. When he’d sat you down and told you the studio wanted you to get married again, you’d imagined some portly producer older than your father, or another actor who was only interested in women because he hadn’t figured out how to fuck his own reflection.

“I wanna talk to him about all of this. And if we’re on the same page…” you let yourself trail off as Jack’s grin gets wider.

“You’re a star, baby. A bona fide star. Just you wait, you’re gonna have your pick of projects.” He picks up the phone on the desk and waves you away. “Go, go have fun at the party. Javi’s down there somewhere if you wanna talk to him.”

You give him a wave back, and let yourself out of the office before you can change your mind. Half of Hollywood seems to be ringing in the new year at Jack’s sprawling house in the hills. You descend the stairs into the press of bodies, a fresh glass of champagne appearing in your hand as if by magic.

The party has spilled out onto the deck, guests hanging in clusters around the pool. A few brave souls have even shed their party clothes and dived in, splashing about in their underwear. You ignore their urging for more people to join them, focusing on picking Javi out of the crowd.

It takes you two laps of the party before you find him.

He’s standing over by the bar, deep in conversation with a man you recognise as one of the composers at the studio. You take a long moment just to observe him. Your future husband.

There could be worse husbands, you suppose.

He really is quite handsome. He’s wearing a dark green suit tonight that screams understated wealth, and his curls have been tamed and combed back for the night. Whatever he’s talking about, he’s passionate about it, gesturing with his hands and smiling broadly whenever he isn’t speaking.

You wish you’d thought to glance in a mirror before coming to find him. You’re wearing Dior, a dress that had made you feel like a goddess when you’d put it on earlier. Now, after hours of drinking, and your time spent fretting in Jack’s office, you’re no longer certain you look quite so regal.

Before you can dash off to find a mirror somewhere, Javi spots you.

He flashes you one of those lovely smiles, seeming entirely genuinely pleased to see you. When he waves you over, you go. The composer rolls his eyes fondly and melts back into the crowd, leaving the two of you alone.

“Hello.” It feels like an inadequate way to greet your future husband, but you can’t think of anything else. Javi’s the one who’s good with words; you’re just good at repeating them.

He beams at you, completely unbothered by your unoriginal introduction.

“Hello yourself! It’s been a hot minute.” He leans in to kiss your cheeks in greeting. Even though his skin barely brushes yours, it still makes your face feel warm as you imagine other kinds of kisses from him. He smells wonderful too, an expensive cologne that’s present without being overwhelming.

“I hear you’re up for Wuthering Heights. It’s a great part,” Javi says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The way Jack tells it, you’ll be a shoo-in for the Oscar again.”

“Ah, well, I think you’re the expert on those now. You’re the one who actually won the damned thing.” Most men in Hollywood would take the opportunity to springboard into a monologue about their work; Javi waves you off bashfully.

“I got lucky. Nicky was a great guy to build the story around.” It seems to come from a place of real humility. You’ve seen him at table reads, filling in for uncast parts; you don’t think much of his acting ability. He might just be the genuine article. It’s impossible enough to find in this business, but you find that you want badly to believe it’s true; that he really is as humble and genuine as he seems.

“I’m glad I found you. I was looking for you,” you tell him, stepping in closer. Your heads are bowed conspiratorially together; if nothing else, it’ll give the other partygoers something to talk about, you suppose.

“Oh,” he says, his eyes softening. “Jack spoke to you?”

You dive in headfirst, not knowing how else to proceed.

“He did. I said- I told him I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Well I’d hope that the fact you haven’t thrown your drink in my face means you don’t hate the idea entirely.” There’s that smile again. It really is a shame he’s more comfortable behind the camera.

“I don’t. Jack mentioned you were in a similar…situation. And that we might come to an arrangement.” With no specifics from Jack, you don’t want to push. He could be in the closet; he could also have just been caught with a joint at the exact wrong moment by the exact wrong person.

“I’m not as flawless as the studio would like me to be, no. But it doesn’t- we don’t have to go so far as marriage, if you don’t want to. It was just an idea.”

“Come and dance with me.” When he looks at you blankly, you laugh. “Come dance. Unless you can’t. I’m not sure I wanna be talking marriage with a man who can’t dance.” You keep your tone light, teasing. With an affectionate roll of his eyes, he sets your drinks down on the side before taking your hand, guiding you towards the dancing couples.

It’s the first time you’ve held his hand, and you’re struck by just how large it is compared to your own. He’s soft and warm here too, though you can’t help but notice a nick on one of his fingers.

“That’s pretty nasty for a papercut,” you say, tapping the skin just below the cut.

“Ah, I was wrestling with my typewriter earlier. One of the keys jammed.” The two of you find yourselves on the outskirts of the dancefloor, far enough away from the press of other couples to carry on speaking. Javi brings his free hand to rest on your waist, and yours finds his shoulder as you begin to sway in time to the beat.

“I know you might not be so wild about marriage after Marcus,” he says softly. The tender look he’s giving you makes you want to weep; in a strange way, it reminds you of Marcus.

“It’s been nearly two years. I’m not…completely opposed.” After all, it’s not like Marcus would want you miserable and moping for the rest of your life, you are certain about that. And you like Javi, in spite of yourself. He’s handsome and kind and warm. Any girl would be lucky to marry him.  

“We wouldn’t be the first couple in this business to get married because the studio said so.” Javi looks around the room, glancing at the other couples moving around the dancefloor. “There’s probably more than one…arrangement just in this room.”

“It’d help to really sell it, if we got married. You can move in with me, if you like,” you say impulsively. “But I’d prefer if you were in the guest bedroom at first.”

“That’s absolutely fine.” The song changes, but the two of you keep swaying aimlessly. There’s a long pause as Javi looks searchingly at you.

“Can I be honest?” Javi says, adjusting his grip on your hand. “I was – I’m glad it was you, that Jack suggested.”

“Oh?” You can’t help leaning in. His other hand slides a little higher up your back, between your shoulder blades.

“I think you’re the cat’s pyjamas,” he says, smiling softly. “You always noticed me, on set. Asked me questions. The lead of the whole damned picture, just lost your husband, and you think to ask me how my day is going. And that’s not even getting into how talented you are, how beautiful-”

You feel lightheaded, like you’ve drunk a bottle of champagne all in one go again.

“Oh Javi, baby. Do you like me?” You tease, a smile spreading across your face. He seems flustered again, and you take your hand off his shoulder to cup his face.

“I quite like you too. You’re handsome and kind and you know how to put a sentence together. Women have married men for a lot less.”

Before you can overthink it, you kiss him.

A lot has been written about your kisses. The kiss you shared with Don Adler in Agamemnon won some sort of award, and you have an article framed on your vanity about your lipstick choice at the Oscars.

This is different though.

After the smallest moment of uncertainty, Javi kisses you back. Any hesitance you might have melts away as you lean into the embrace. You kiss him more firmly, more boldly. His hand on your back presses harder, holding you closer against his body. A feeling of warmth blooms through you, like settling into a perfectly warm bath after a long day.

More than anything, it just feels right.

You’re not sure how long you kiss before you break away. Javi cradles your jaw in his hands, the pad of his thumb resting lightly against your lower lip.

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”

“You didn’t write that one,” you say with a smile. He laughs, a sound so lovely and warm that you immediately want to make him laugh again.

“Give me time. I’ll write your next leading man a hell of a monologue about the shape of your lips alone.”

“You promise?” You catch at the lapel of his blazer, running your fingertips against the fine fabric. Based on everything you know about him, Javi seems like a man who keeps his word.

“I do.”  

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots

@its-nebuleuse @totallynotastanacc

[jeonaissance]

Divorced in Ghana - Part 1 :; J.JK

- Summary: It is said that in the Republic of Ghana, couples who want to divorce must wear the same wedding dress and suit on their wedding day and divorce at the same wedding venue.

- Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

- Based on the song "Divorced in Ghana".

- a/n: You should listen to the song I pinned, it will give you a better experiment!

Their love has lasted for eleven years, seven years of dating, four years of marriage. A life so fulfilling that outsiders can only say: "They may be meant for each other."

One year before they married, Jungkook and Y/N moved to Ghana together to live and work. Perhaps they are both doctors, with the same goal, so they are so attractive and understand each other, just a glance quickly knowing what the other needs.

The peaceful life in Ghana gradually passed, although the work is tiring, they always give each other words of encouragement, comfort, and steadfast faith. It can be said that, in a foreign land, Jungkook and Y/N are each other's most solid spiritual foundation.

But their happiness gradually shook when Jungkook was accepted by the hospital as the main doctor. His workload was twice as much as the others because there were only three neurosurgeons in this hospital.

Y/N also worked hard but she gradually felt the connection between her and Jungkook more and more delicate. She tried to talk to him a lot but he would almost never be home when she finished work or when he was home, she had to work at the hospital.

At this time Jungkook was also in a state of stress, many sleepless nights, long hours of treatment made him tired. Sometimes when he went home, he would sit on the sofa and sleep.

Y/N was worried about his health so she always tried to stay at the hospital a little to find him, bring him some food but recently she noticed that he rarely touched the food she prepared.

This state had lasted for more than three months and made someone remember. The two of them were getting busier and busier, they barely had time to sit together and talk, thinking and looking back at their marriage like a thread that was straining to endure.

…

“Jungkook, I just asked if you wanted to go out with me, what did I do that made you suddenly angry with me?” Y/N said angrily.

“Enough Y/N. I don’t want to talk to you anymore, go out.”

Jungkook turned his head back to his desk, it was clear that he didn’t want to talk to her anymore.

“You’re getting more and more difficult to understand, I think I can’t understand you anymore, Jungkook. I have to talk to you clearly today.”

The anger in her grew bigger and bigger, she walked to his desk.

“I told you to go out. I have a lot of work today.”

“I’m not going!”

Jungkook pressed his temples, feeling a little upset.

“Don’t you find the most important thing is our marriage? It’s been three months, we haven’t talked, we haven’t had a moment of intimacy, even just looking at each other was so difficult. What else do you think is important? Is our marriage not as important as your pieces of paper?”

She glared at him, her voice filled with regret and resentment. She felt like he was taking this marriage lightly, her heart was breaking at the thought of it.

“Y/N! You are annoyed, you know that? Get out! I don’t want to see you right now!”

Her eyes flashed with surprise. Did he just say she was annoyed? It turned out that she wanted to talk to her husband, but it was just annoying to him?

“Am I annoyed? Okay, I’m going.” Y/N grabbed her outer shirt and walked out.

Jungkook was also angry, he didn’t follow her and was no longer in the mood to continue working.

…

Tonight, she drank and then dragged her steps home. She knew that even if she called him to pick her up, he would never mind picking up her phone.

“Where are you going? Why do you smell like alcohol?” Jungkook saw her entering the house and asked her worriedly.

“Ignore me.”

Y/N went upstairs and fell tiredly onto the large bed. She thought that eleven years of love would be enough to make all the mess between them disappear, but it seemed like it was getting harder and harder.

“Y/N, are you asleep yet? I brought you some hangover soup.”

Y/N got up and opened the door.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Can we do it another time? I’m not in the mood right now.”

She immediately refused, she really didn’t want to talk to him.

“Real quick.”

She sighed and nodded: “Go ahead.”

“My love for you is no longer like before. I can no longer feel the love in me when I look at you. We are together, confronting you like this is like a habit. Y/N, we both deserve better, right?”

Y/N was silent, she couldn’t understand what he was saying. They have been in love for eleven years, right? His words were as gentle as a breeze, making the waves in her heart even more intense.

“I want to divorce.” Jungkook fatefully told her.

“Eleven years together… Doesn’t it mean anything to you?”

Jungkook gasped, he spoke softly.

“Eleven years to me is everything, something that is created inside me. But, if we are only together because of responsibility, because the vain hope of a day not far away made us hurt and resent each other. That’s not fair to either of us. I don’t deny our past, and I can’t forget what you gave me. It’s just that this love has changed and sometimes no matter how much we want it, love can’t conquer everything.”

“Do you really want a divorce…?”

Jungkook sighed, nodding seriously.

“Yes, I want a divorce.”

[spenceluvsurmomsblog]

Oh great can you wrote a smut for Jesse katsopolis x fem!reader ? Maybe enemies to lovers ?

Ofc anon!! I won’t even lie to you it’s so hard to find good Jesse fanfics and I love him sm so I’ll try and make this the best I possibly can for you!! 🩷

Content warnings: fighting ? Oral (f receiving) , close call (almost getting caught by Danny) I think that’s it let me know if theres anything I might’ve missed

Also picture isn’t mine!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been friends with Danny forever he was like your best friend so you were thrilled when he married Pam, you never really got along with Jesse, he was a bad boy and never followed the rules, he rode a motorcycle and wore too much grease in his hair. He was the exact thing your parents wanted you to stay away from, which you had no problem with that every time you were around each other you ended up arguing. After Pam died you had offered to help Danny with the girls promising him you’d be able to keep the arguing with Jesse to a minimum which is what led you here. Danny decided to leave you two alone to try and work out your differences which to no surprise ended up with you two yelling at each other “why do you hate me so much??” you yelled at him and he yelled back “I don’t hate you! Your the one who hates me always yelling at me like that” he countered slowly backing her into the counter. “You’d always ignore me and pretend I didn’t exist!” He sighed pinching his fingers at the bridge of his nose in exhaustion “because I love you and I wanted you to like me so I played hard to get with you” she stared at him in confusion for a second processing his words before crashing her lips against his. He didn’t waste a second in kissing her back grabbing her soft thighs and hoisting her up onto the cabinet. He broke the kiss for a moment to slide her shirt over her head before continuing to kiss her. He kissed her jaw and down her neck beginning suck purple marks into the sensitive skin while she let out soft moans “Jess~” she moaned as he moved down to suck on her sensitive mounds fondling the other with his hand. She carefully lifted her hips as he slid her shorts and panties off in one swift motion before leaving soft kisses on her inner thighs inching closer to her soaked core. She let out a loud moan as he started sucking on her clit causing her to close her thighs around his head as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her at a slow pace. “Please I need more” she whined lowly “I know just be patient” he mumbled before diving back between her legs to pull an orgasm from her leaving her thighs trembling before he returned to his position standing between her legs. He unbutton his pants freeing his hard cock from the confines of his tight jeans and gently rubbing hai tip through he sensitive folds before quickly pushing into her weeping hole causing them both to let out a sigh of relief. He waited for her to be ready before he started at a rough pace listening to her moans as he dropped his head back on content “such a good girl for me yeah?” He groaned as she squeezed around him at his words of praise “o-only for you” she stuttered out between moans. After a few more thrusts she came again, he followed after her just in time for them to hear the car pull up outside. They quickly rushed to get their clothes back on and ran to sit on the couch just as Danny walked in with the girls “hey you two how did it go, I see you haven’t killed each other” Danny laughed as he took his coat off hanging it by the door. “It went fine I don’t think we’ll be fighting anymore” Jesse said smirking slyly at her “we solved our differences” she said with a small giggle as Danny nodded and took the girls upstairs to get ready for bed.

I’m so sorry this wasn’t as good as i intended it to be but it helps with my writing skills and getting better so thank you for your request and I hope you enjoyed!!!

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Request:  fuegoleon nsfw fic with wife s/o who's really hot? Fuego has been really busy with work lately and s/o feels neglected and sadly tells him one day that she's the only one who wants him but he doesn't want her? And it kinda hits a switch in fue, because he just can't fathom his wife thinking that HE doesn't want her, and he goes feral? Overstim, breeding kink, Dom!Fuego Lots of adorable aftercare too of you're okay with it🥰

A/N: Hiya! I got immersed into this while writing it, and it’s not 100% on with her telling him that she’s the only one wanting him, but the theme is there. This is also the hardest smut I’ve written to this day, I think, because while my Fuelara smut has been longer and more romantic, this is harder. Anyways, I do hope that you like it. And now I need a cold shower 🥵

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader (written in 1st person POV)

Fanfic type: Oneshot

Genre: Smut, hurt-comfort

Length: ~3.0k

Warnings: smut, cunnilingus (reader receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, no mention of birthcontrol, overstimulation (reader receiving), breeding kink, one mention of face fucking but no actual act, implied cervix fucking, crude language (”fuck me”), reader and Fue and married (established relationship), Fue says “I love you” mid act, Dom!Fue, aftercare minors DNI

It’s quiet. Well, if you don’t count the crickets. A part of me is surprised that there are already crickets at this time of the year, even if the summer is warm, which is why I have the window open in the first place. And another part of me is still glad that I can still hear them.

Another, much smaller, part. The part is muffled under the sigh that leaves my lips in an effort to relieve the restlessness in my body. But even if I wandered off from the open window, I’d find my way back to it soon enough I’m sure. Because the cool night air feels as if a caress against my skin.

A caress… that I crave for. The caress that I’ve longed for… for too many nights.

They say that the time your relationship is passionate is short, a few months, a year if you’re lucky, and then it starts to die down. I suppose I should say that I am luckier than most people then, granted that it took so long for us to get to this place. We had a good run… But that makes is sound like we would be heading for a divorce, which is far from the truth.

It’s not… bad… our relationship. It’s just more like a partnership. A business deal. And I could certainly do a lot worse, which argues against divorce.

Plus… I still love him.

And I hope… I hope that he still loves me. He says that he does, but the lack of touch, more than the generic hand on the shoulder in passing, speaks a different tale.

I hope that he loves me… and I hope that he still wants me.

There’s a thought that occurs to me, a very distasteful thought that makes me nauseous for a passing second.

But I know that he’s not the kind of a man to cheat on his wife. He’s not the type of a person to go behind one’s back and seek comfort in the arms of another.

I still love, and trust, my husband.

He’s simply a busy man, that’s all. And he is busy. There is a lot on his shoulders. I want to trust that, that’s all there is to it. I want to believe that he’s just tired… But there is not even a gaze to my direction anymore. Before, his busy schedule didn’t stop us. Though a long, sweaty night, or just a few hours of passionate, romantic love making was preferrable, a quicky was never out of the question.

And I swear, all the times I went down on him in his office, behind his desk, despite him feeling conflicted about doing such a thing in his office, he loved it. The way he smile, and the glimmer in his eyes told me that he drank it up like a starving man.

Besides, he never seemed all that … un-eager to do so. If anything, he seemed more concerned about my integrity than anything else. But we were married, and me going down on my husband was far from a scandalous thing. Though the rumours, and the noble circles might blow it out of proportions for some time, who cares? They can blow it out, and I can simply blow my husband.

Come to think of it…. How long has it been since the last time I went down on him?

How long ago was it that I last… satisfied myself?

It doesn’t feel right doing so in our bed, when he’s in deep slumber right there. And he could walk in on me in the shower, though I suppose that’s just wishful thinking.

I no longer know. All I do know is that it’s been long… far too long… And I have to wonder if he really does want me anymore… Because… though I’m only a few years younger than he is, maybe my body has changed away from his liking. Maybe I’m not… firm enough, perky enough, thin enough… Though I don’t think I have changed all that much since we met.

I… think…?

I don’t think I have changed that much. But maybe that’s just him losing his rose coloured glasses.

Maybe…

I sight to myself again as the loneliness I feel wraps around me as if a blanket, but that blanket just makes the warmth between my legs intensify and a knot form into my lower stomach which is trying to grasp onto something that isn’t there.

The door opens and closes behind me, and I hear another heavy sigh.

“My love? You didn’t need to stay up and wait for me,” his tone is warm and caring, but it is also tired.

I can’t blame him for it. I can’t blame him for being tired.

“I know….” I tell him as I walk away from the window and closer to him with my arms wrapped around myself, pressing the silken fabric of my nightgown against my skin even tighter. “And I know that you’re tired, but… there’s… something I want to talk to you about,” I admit, because this has gone for long enough. And there seems to be no end in sight to his schedule, so this night is as good as any.

“What is it?” He asks, and the question is fair. It’s frank, on point, and it is fair.

“I’ve… been… I’ve been wondering if…” I glance at the ceiling, because though this is hard, it’s a lot harder than I think. Because I don’t want to admit that I feel neglected. I don’t want to admit that I feel a yearning for him, even if I do. Though some time back I wouldn’t have as much as blinked about telling him that I want him.

Because I did. I do… I do want him.

“Yes?” His eyes are full of worry. There is a small frown on his face as he stands there, so close to me.

I can feel his warmth radiating through the air, and I can smell the faint scent of his lavender hair oil.

By gods how I miss that scent… I miss busying my nose into those auburn locks as his hands run over my body and I… miss him moving over mine, under mine… in mine…

I miss… him. All of him…

“Tell me, what’s wrong,” he implores again, this time with a tone that is both concerned and unwavering. He wants to know. He wants to know, because he cares. I know as much.

But it doesn’t make it any easier. However, regardless of whether it’s easy or not, I need to tell him. This is something that just needs to be discussed.

“I…” I utter while looking to the side. “I know that you’ve been busy lately, but I’ve…” I trail off again, because though that’s true, it’s only loosely connected to what I want to say.

So, I take a deep breath, and swallow, before whispering: “Do you… still… want me…?”

He takes a moment. But the moment, which must be no longer than a few seconds, feels much, much longer. It feels like an hour, a day, one fifth of an eternity.

“Do I still… want you?”

There is amusement in his tone. It is disbelieving amusement. It sounds like the question is absurd to him. Much more than to me.

“My love… Every night that you’re not next to me, I ache for you. Every day I long for you. And… I know that I’ve been tied to my job far too much as of late, it’s every day that I find myself craving for you.”

He takes a step closer to me. The warmth radiating through the air grows stronger, and I can hear his breathing growing lower, heavier… louder.

His hands take a hold of me…

“I crave… for you…” he whispers like sin, like the words that drip from his lips would be sweet like honey, decadent and filled with lust that he is feeling, just as me.

I turn to look at him, and I press closer to him, but that’s the last thing I realize before finding myself on our bed.

His frame, which is much broader than mine, is over me. His eyes, in the dim light of the bedroom, seem dark, like velvet, but the spark cast by the light of his flames, makes him seem hungry. It tastes like passion, feels like lust, and sounds decadent, like sin itself.

But I don’t mind the sin, not if it’s him.

I don’t mind the way he rips off my nightgown with an apology.

“I’ll buy you a new one…” he half whispers, half growls.

But I don’t mind.

I most certainly don’t mind.

I don’t mind as he pressed his head between my legs, and licksssss…

But it’s just a tiny, little kitten lick with the tip of his tongue.

I can still feel his breath gliding over me, over my clit, over my folds and his right there! But all he does is make the little lick that doesn’t satiate my hunger.

“Please…” I utter, but that’s when I realize that he’s just admiring me, because…

“You look gorgeous from every angle,” he tells me before pressing his mouth against my lower set of lips.

And he is hungry.

His tongue dances around, dips inside of and swirls around as my walls try to hold onto him. I try and I try as I clench the sheets in my fists. It’s been so long, and it feels so good… The way his tongue moves in and out and around in me…

And I want him in!

“Please!” I cry out to him and all he does is press his face harder against my folds as his fingers press harder against the tender flesh of my ass.

He hums, sending vibrations through me, and that’s when my toes curl and I see stars.

But that’s not enough for him.

I can feel his tongue licking around everything that flowed out of me with my orgasm, as he’s casing another high of mine.

His nose is pressed against my clit, and occasionally he flicks it with his tongue. And every time he does, I can’t help but mewl at him. Be-cause! Because… I need him, I want him, inside of me!

And his tongue isn’t enough. It is just not enough!

“Honey! I want-,” I manage through my pants, and I’m sure he can hear the desperation as my legs tremble. As they shake under him.

He lifts his head, and my hips jerk up, as if they’d crave for the touch as much as I do, and my legs open wider for him. Which makes his eyes glance down to my trembling, wet core, and then to my eyes as a smirk, a proud, grinning smirk frames those purple eyes that look like lust and velvet.

“I can’t… take this teasing anymore,” I tell him as my body is already on edge from the stimulation.

“Well…” he utters, looking pleased, and a bit smug, I have to admit. But then again he has every right to look as smug as he does, because he just make me cum for the 4th time tonight. “If you so wish,” he continues as he climbs on top of me and takes off his pants.

His cock is hard. It’s pointing upwards and the tip is oozing with precum.

It is twitching.

And it takes everything in my not to crawl down, shift down under him, against the sheets, and engulf that cock into my mouth.

He has never, properly, fucked my face, and he probably wouldn’t because he prefers me to be able to breathe. But if I did, that’d probably be the closest we’d get to it.

It might be, but I don’t have time to think about it more, as his cock is already sliding over my wet slit effortlessly, teasing my sensitive bundle.

I moan, and I gasp, but not in the way I would if he had inserted it.

He’s teasing me more, and as much as I love it, I hate it. Because this isn’t-, it’s not what I-

I don’t use crude vocabulary in bed. I don’t curse. And I’m bad at dirty talk, but…

“Fuck me,” I tell him.

His eyes open wider. He seems surprised by my words. But the surprise is quickly overtaken by more amusement.

“Breed me!” I tell him.

And he chuckles. He chuckles, but there is devilish intent in those eyes that stare down at me.

“You wish my seed to paint your insides that badly?” He asks with a smirk, and he has every right to smirk.

“Yes.”

And then he pushes in. With one. Swift. Motion.

My back arches, and I see stars again as I cum.

And through the white noise, through the sound of blood rushing in my ears, I hear him chuckle with a pleased sound. He is pleased. Because the way he has stimulated my body to this point, made it possible for me to cum with just him inserting himself inside of me.

“I’m going to cum inside of you,” he tells me, and I love that he tells me, that he whispers it against my ear with that low, sultry voice of his. “And then I’m going to…” he pauses, to choose the words, but instead of what I might expect, he chooses the words, the crude words that I chose a moment before. “I am going to… fuck you, with my sperm still inside of you.”

And by the gods, this man, this man who is my husband, who has talked so eagerly about starting a family with me, is driving me to oblivion in the best possible way.

He pushes in, and out, and in and out and I… loose track of how many times I cum. But when he pushes down once, and hard, and warmth spreads within me, the corners of my lips tug up because I know that he came.

He came and he’s still in me, plugging me up so that all of his seed stays inside of me.

“And now, my love…” he murmurs against my ear as his hand settles onto my cheek.

He lowers down, and pressed a kiss onto my lips. One, hard, passionate kiss…

And then his hand trails down to my neck… his big, broad hand that could wrap around my neck effortlessly… It trails down, and down, and down, until he scoops my legs and he presses me into a breeding press.

“I’m going to rid any loneliness from you,” he promises as his hips pump up. And. Down.

His hips slap against mine, as he pins me down. And his cock reaches all the way to my cervix. It’s like he wants to give it a French kiss.

And he can. He can. He can, he can, he can…

My walls clench around him, and I can feel my fluids mixing together with his between our legs. The damp, sticky feel that I don’t mind.

I don’t mind.

I don’t think to mind.

Because I’m focused on every groove, every vein of his cock as he slams in, and out, and back in me again. The way my body clenches around him, trying to keep a hold of him. Desperately tries to embrace him as he slides out, and then back to me again.

Drool drips from the side of my face as my eyes roll back, and all I can think is the building ecstasy in me.

His breathing rings next to my ear, and it’s growing unsteady. And still…

“I love you…” he murmurs, nearly growls as he slams his hips against mine for one… last, time, pressing himself against my cervix.

My toes curl, and my fingers press against the skin of his back so hard as I scream out his name while coming undone under him.

I can feel my body twitching from the pure bliss. Trying to clasp onto him again. But I’m also growing relaxed as I’m coming around from the orgasm.

He pulls out and lays down next to me as his fingers trail over my skin with a feather light touch. His eyes are on me, looking around, trying to spot any signs of discomfort while simultaneously admiring me.

I turn to my side while catching my breath, and snuggle close to him, against his chest.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asks as his fingers draw circles onto my back; his words cascading onto me like a dawn, like silk and every good thing in the world.

“Yes,” I tell him, while still trying to gasp for air, but there is a smile on my face.

He leans down to place a kiss onto my head before laying down properly next to me, head on the pillow. His eyes are still looking over me, but now the gaze is filled with almost only admiration, no searching for signs of discomfort. Because there aren’t any.

Only those of fulfilment.

He still loves me, and wants me. Just as I still love and want him.

And even when I close my eyes, I can still feel him lying there, his hand carefully tracing over my skin. He’s so close, so very close that I can almost feel his heart beating for me through the air.

But the thing is, I know that it’s there without feeling it. I had simply forgotten it. I had forgotten how he, how this stern, loyal, loving and caring man is when he is in love.

Now I remember, and I never intend to forget again.

[vigilskeep]

wait when were zev and anders called slurs? :o i haven't played any mlm romance!

homophobia banter highlight reel i guess. shoutout to seb for making it on here because varric has something deeply wrong with him and is exclusively homophobic to the one of like two not openly bisexual people in his friend group

in general my point is that like. this was homophobic. if people didnt. uh. clock that oghren’s violent reactions and references to manskirt-wearing freaks were that. i’m using oghren as my main example because he’s the most overt. (generally orzammar’s dedication to lineage throughout the castes seems to give it more rigid gender and sexuality roles; there’s also significantly more overt sexism.) with zev and anders, it’s also compounded by fantasy racism and prejudice, in particular that male elves and male mages are both seen as effeminate in southern thedas. this isn’t just oghren. uh, for example, if a male hawke romances anders or fenris, gamlen, who iirc is as directly homophobic as it gets in da2, will make the comment “i guess i don’t have to ask which one of you’s the girl”. he’ll also make a fetishising comment about female hawke and isabela

otherwise. uh what might people not have clocked. zevran only flirts with a female warden in his introductory scene, due to his real, not unfounded concern that it will make a male warden more uncomfortable with him and, let’s not put too fine a point on it, thus more likely to kill him. zevran’s discussion of being bisexual himself is incredibly loaded and as i recall involves a fair bit of internalised something. from my delvings into the toolset, if you romance him as a man, you seem to have countless opportunities to break off the relationship specifically saying it’s because you’re both men and you can’t do this, including as late as the second time he offers you the earring. generally the male warden romancing zevran has a lot of internalised homophobia coded dialogue options when you ask him about his sexuality and when others ask you about the relationship—you can express dismay that zevran has told anyone, for example, while asking leliana not to say anything—and it’s fairly heavily implied that you’re likely to be more unfamiliar with such things

with anders, the most glaring example off the top of my head is that he doesn’t tell female hawkes about karl. a lot of the gendered differences in the anders romances are from homophobia/biphobia on a writing level as well, but considering that we’re not buying into “playersexual” nonsense i think it’s also fair to read this in-world as anders choosing not to bring that up to a woman who’s interested in him/someone he doesn’t know he has this in common with. the dialogue again treats anders as more experienced and gives male hawkes the opportunity to act surprised/uncertain even when they are the one to flirt first

this is basically just. if you didn’t clock that, that’s going on here! in general, heterosexuality is an assumed norm in thedas, and particularly characters coded as andrastian and fairly naive/inexperienced like alistair or bethany will express surprise or confusion about it and not pick up on implications. particularly noble characters will be expected to continue bloodlines and make political unions, for example, the inability of a female warden to marry anora or a male warden to marry alistair, even though it’s possible to do the m/f version of those political marriages without any kind of romance. that’s a pragmatic concern about the succession in a world that values bloodlines and thus comes with a certain heteronormativity. at the same time, there’s not so deep a stigma as you might expect if directly translating from our world, so to speak; it’s much more about the hope of continuing families and the importance of that in this world than there seeming to be any kind of explicit religious stigma? although it should be noted that the andrastian story focuses on andraste and the maker in what is treated as an m/f marriage and might be considered an ideal

for example, leandra will make an offhand, semi-teasing comment about finding hawke an opposite gender spouse, which i think is her hope of hawke managing to settle into kirkwall noble society and continue the family line when there is, in most worldstates, little to no hope of the other surviving hawke sibling having children. but at the same time, she’s casually accepting of hawke being in a queer relationship, will lightly mention it in dialogue, and makes no comment about anders or merrill moving in. i’d take that as kind of a baseline level of understanding for southern thedas, though it also varies from nation to nation, culture to culture, person to person, and class to class

i hope that makes it clearer ??

[musings-of-a-rose]

Falling Slowly - Chapter 4

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Divider made by @benkeibear 

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

<<;Chapter 3<<

Tommy makes it to his truck, unlocking it and closing the door behind himself, turning the truck on and feeling the cold ac blast his face. This helps to calm him, taking away the initial panic feeling that he got when she told him she was pregnant.

Pregnant. She was pregnant.

If he’s honest with himself, deep down, both of them knew it was always a possibility. It always was with sex, no matter what birth control you use. Even his cousin Will was a product of failed birth control, his brother Benny a baby born from a vasectomy that was never checked. But he never thought it would happen to him. A dad? Him? Then again, Joel did it. And he was so young, just barely out of high school. And then his wife…well, he was left with Sarah and he did alright. 

If he’s being truly honest, he doesn’t hate the idea of kids with her. With his Daisy. 

But is she his? Does he even have a right to say that? They never really discussed their relationship outside of him burying himself inside of her or sliding his face between her legs, cracking jokes and hanging out inbetween. Tommy loved spending time with her and he thinks it’s mutual, as Daisy was always inviting him places or calling just to talk. I mean it makes sense that they would end up together. He just thought he’d have more time to ask her out. Take her on dates. Marry her. Then have kids.

But does she even want to? With him?

The more Tommy thinks about her and how she had been sitting on this for however long by herself, he realizes that it’s not just about him. He has the chance to walk away if he wanted, but she doesn’t have that. No matter what she chooses, her life has changed. 

He takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly to calm himself before opening his door, closing it behind him and walking back up to her house. He knocks a few times, softly rapping his knuckle against the wood, and it takes her a minute to answer. When she does, he can see the tears she was furiously trying to wipe away, her eyes red with crying, and he knows he never wants to put that look on her face ever again. And that he’d beat the shit out of anyone who did.

“Tommy?” I’m surprised he’s back, convinced he’d just kept on driving out of town.

“Hey, darlin’. I’m sorry for leavin’, I just…needed a minute.”

"It's o-ok." I'm still trying to wipe these tears from my face and level out my breathing. 

"No, it isn't. I never wanted to make you cry and…" He gestures vaguely towards my face. "I'm sorry, Daisy."

I nod. "Did..did you want to come inside?"

"Y-yeah."

I gesture for him to come inside and close the door behind him, wiping my eyes on my sleeve once he passes me. He waits for me to sit on the couch before he does, shifting his body around nervously, unable to settle. 

"So…we're uh, p-pregnant?"

I nod. "Well I mean, I am pregnant."

His eyes scan down my face. "Can I… I mean what… what are you…I uh…" Tommy is stammering but I think I know where he's going. 

"Are you asking me if I'm keeping the baby?"

His eyes are wide with nerves and fear as he nods. "Y-yeah."

I swallow hard. "I…am."

His eyes get wider somehow and his breathing has shallowed and he's in real danger of passing out. 

"You don't have to be…involved."

His eyes snap to mine, the first real time he's looked at me since I told him I was carrying his child. 

"Don't have to be involved?"

I shake my head. "I'm not going to pressure you. I mean, we were…we are just f-friends. So I d-don't expect y-you t-to…to…" I can't hold back the tears, cursing the raging hormones that have started coursing though my body. 

Tommy slides off the couch and kneels on the floor between my legs, taking my hands in his as he stares up at me, eyes wide and round. 

"Darlin', you'll never be able to get rid of me."

"Wh-what?" I look at him, blurry through my tear stained vision, but I swear I see him smiling. 

“I was yours since that night at the bar.” He puts his large, warm hands on my thighs and starts massaging them.

“Th-then wh-why haven’t y-you asked m-me out y-yet?”

He chuckles, but it sounds a little sad. “I was havin’ too much fun flirting with you.”

I let out a strong puff of air that I intended to be a laugh of some kind, because that was exactly true of me. I had every chance to ask him out and I never did, always having too much fun flirting with him. And then fucking him.

“I will always support you, Daisy. If you want to have this baby, then…we’re having a baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely.”

The next night, Tommy heads over to Joel’s house to tell him the good news before he heads over to spend time with Daisy. He doesn’t knock, but pulls right in the driveway and walks in, yelling for Joel when he enters.

“In here!” Joel yells from the living room. 

Tommy walks in and nods hello to Joel, who nods back. “There’s beer in the fridge if you want one.”

Tommy considers this a moment. “Yeah. I think I do.” 

He goes to the fridge and gets out a beer, popping it open before sitting next to his brother on the couch, leaving the middle cushion open between them. Joel has the game on and they sit and watch it in silence for a bit, only talking about the game. It reaches halftime and Joel stretches, turning down the commercials.

“Hey, Joel?”

“What?”

Suddenly, Tommy finds it hard to speak. “I…I uh…”

Joel looks at him, hearing the nerves in his voice. “Everything ok?”

“Oh, uh yeah. It’s just….Daisy is pregnant.”

Joel is silent, not moving, as if he was waiting for Tommy to say “Gotcha!” but it never comes. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Daisy is pregnant. And…we’re gonna raise it together.”

Joel is silent again, his eyes studying Tommy rapidly, as if he were looking for the punchline. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Tommy.”

“I ain’t arguing that point, but…to be honest, I’m….I’m scared to death. I never thought about it before. Being a dad? But, I don’t know. I think I could be a good dad.” Tommy looks at Joel for the first time, a smile playing across his lips as he confesses.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Tommy furrows his brow, looking at the pissed off look on Joel’s face.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” Joel says, standing up. “That you’re treating the mom of your unborn baby like shit and the baby isn’t even here. How are you going to treat the baby?”

Tommy stands up, his body shaking with anger as he angrily points at his brother. “How am I treating her like shit?”

“Oh please. You’ve loved that woman since the moment you met her and you never made a move? You’re treating her like shit, Tommy. And you know it.”

Tommy is silent, his rage subsiding but he still feels guilty.

“Ask her out, man. Take that woman on a date already.”

A knock at my door tells me Tommy has arrived, fresh from his conversation with Joel. I wonder how that went. It’s not that I think Joel hates me, but I always feel some sort of…I don’t know. Like he doesn’t like me maybe? He's always giving Tommy looks when he thinks I can't see him.

I open the door for him and Tommy hits me with that gorgeous smile, but it’s not reaching his eyes. 

"Hey, darlin'," he says, his hands hesitating when they reach for me. 

"You don't have to be afraid to touch me, you know."

I gently take his hand, lacing my fingers with his as I pull him inside, closing the door behind him. He doesn't let go as we walk to my couch. He sits and pulls me down to him, wrapping his arms around me as I melt into him. A sigh escapes me and he pulls me in a little tighter. 

"How'd it go?"

I feel his body tense up a bit and he says nothing.

"That bad?"

He clears his throat. "Well he called me a fuckin' idiot and doesn't think I'll be a good dad," He scoffs.

"Oh, Tommy. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I had a feelin' he'd react this way."

I turn my head up to look at him, placing my hand on his broad chest. 

"I think you're going to be a great dad, Tommy."

He looks down at me, that smile I love starting to creep across his face.

"Well that's all the approval I need."

He kisses the top of my head before resting his own on mine. We sit like that a while, just cuddling and enjoying being with each other. A couple. Are we a couple? Wait. A family? I don't even know. 

"Hey, Daisy?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you have dinner with me?"

"Oh. I assumed you'd eaten with Joel. I should've asked! I can make you something-" I sit up but Tommy grabs my wrist.

"Not what I meant."

"Oh."

"I meant like a…a date."

My eyes scan his face for any hint of a joke or insincerity. 

"You don't have to do that."

His eyebrows furrow together. "Do what?"

"Ask me out just because I'm carrying your child."

"No, that's not-"

I shake my head. "It’s ok, Tommy. Sometimes these things happen. But I don't expect anything from you. Romantically."

He looks sad. Why does he look sad? I just released him from his perceived sense of duty, no matter how much I wanted to scream "YES!" To his question. 

"I didn't ask you out because you're pregnant. I should've gotten off my ass and asked you out a long while ago."

"Tommy, really. It's OK."

He sits up a little straighter. "No, it isn't. I'm asking you out because… because I want to date you. Be with you. I really like you, Daisy. Always have."

I stare at him for a few moments. Surely he's kidding? It hurts me that he would jerk me around like this and that hurt is amped up with my crazy hormones. 

"Tommy, please don't fuck with me-"

"No. Wait…here." He pulls out his phone, flipping it open and pushing buttons to get to something on it. He hands it to me. 

"Read. It's between Sarah and I. She's really the only reason I have this texting shit on my plan."

I look down at the screen, reading a conversation between him and his niece. It's about nothing specific, school stuff, quips about Joel. But then I see my name. 

Sarah: can u chaperone my dance instead of dad?

Tommy: I'm not sure your dad would want that

Sarah: but u r so much cooler than him

Tommy: that's true

Sarah: so will u?

Tommy: I don't know…

Sarah: please Uncle Tommy? U can bring a date!

Tommy: I don't have a date, punk 

Sarah: what about Daisy?

Tommy: She's just a friend 

Sarah: but u r always 2gether and u always talk about her

Tommy: yeah because she's my friend

Sarah: it's different. U r different with her. Why aren't u boyfriend and girlfriend? 

Tommy: because we're friends, Sarah

Sarah: U guys obviously like each other 

Tommy: it's complicated 

Sarah: I don't think it has 2 b. Ask her out. I know she likes you 2. 

Tommy: and what do you know about that? 

Sarah: because she looks at u like u look at her. Like u hung the stars in the sky

Tommy: you need to stop reading and getting so smart

I look back up at Tommy when I finish, tears in my eyes as I see the time stamp. It was only a month after we'd met. I set the phone on my coffee table and turn back to him, straddling his lap, taking his face in my hands as I feel his hands settle on my hips. 

"This entire time?"

"I told you. Since the moment I saw you."

I bring my lips to his, kissing him hard as his hands slide up my back under my shirt, bringing me closer to him. 

"Is that a yes?" He asks, a smile in his voice. 

"Hell yes."

His face splits, a wide grin with those sparkling brown eyes staring up at me. God, he's beautiful. I lean forward and kiss him again, sliding my hands around behind his head to tug at the curls there, swallowing the moans he gives me. I sit up, pulling my shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the room, Tommy's warm hands sliding across my back and undoing my bra, throwing it across the room too. His eyes drift down to my boobs, gently taking one in his hand and lapping at the nipple. 

"Stop."

He pulls back immediately, his eyes round with worry. "What is it? Did I hurt you?"

"No. Well yes but…" I feel like crying. These fucking hormones. "My nipples are just really sensitive right now."

"Oh. I didn't know. 'M sorry. We can stop-"

"Oh no. I definitely need you inside me."

"You're gonna kill me."

He pulls me in close and kisses me harder, his tongue sliding in and out of my mouth, his fingertips ghosting across my skin, goosebumps appearing behind his touch, sending heat straight between my legs. 

I stop him and get off his lap, taking his hand and pulling him along to my room, both of us shedding our clothes before I lay on my back, Tommy crawling up my body but leaning on his side so he doesn't put any pressure on me. He grips my hip and kisses me, his hips pushing my legs further apart, his erection hard against my skin. Then he freezes, pulling back. 

"Shit."

"What? What's wrong?" I ask, worried that he's somehow hurt. 

"I don't have a condom."

I…did he forget?

"I don’t think that will be a problem."

He groans, his dick twitching against me at my words. 

"I wanna feel you, fuck do I wanna feel you. But-"

"Tommy…are you worried about getting me pregnant?"

"Well I…oh my God I'm a dumbass."

He cuts off my laugh as he pushes into me, my mouth hanging open at the feel of him. Every ridge, the pull of his skin, the way he slides inside of me, all of him and I can't remember anything else ever feeling this way. Above me, Tommy is struggling, moans and grunts coming out of him, his own mouth hanging open.

"God, you feel so fuckin' amazing and I'm trying not to be a 2 pump chump right now."

"I don't care. Fuck me, Tommy. Fuck you feel so good."

He nods but stills his hips, pressing his fingers between my thighs, rubbing little circles into my clit. I'm so pent up, hormones racing through me, that after a few moments, I can feel my orgasm building, my breathing picking up. Tommy senses this and pushes himself into me, thrusting his hips to get himself deeper. He does this twice and somehow we both come at the same time, but the sounds he makes are like background noise to the orgasm that's ripping through me. I have never had this intense of one, every wave of pleasure increased tenfold as it continues washing over me, my fingers digging into his biceps as I cry his name over and over. Eventually, I come down, sweat sticking to me as my chest heaves. Tommy pulls out of me with a hiss, quickly cleaning us up before he slides into bed, pulling me to him. 

"Feel good, darlin'?"

"It must be the pregnancy because I have never had that intense of an orgasm before. It felt like it went on forever."

"You did have an extra edge to your voice."

"But damn, Tommy. You felt fucking amazing. We are definitely doing that again."

"Does that mean you're putting out on our date?"

"You can count on it."

>>Chapter 5>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21@gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry  

[pboogerswbb]

Chapter 7 - DIABOLICAL EDGING

I am soooo happy you are back, it must feel SO good to have your applications out of the way. Good luck!

Wow can't believe the chapter didn't start with Kiran's funeral

I agree with Paige, the weeknd is unbearable when you are horny as fuck

"Slightly hesitantly, the blonde brings my hands up to her mouth and presses a soft kiss to both of them, eyes fluttering shut." -> d'awwwwwwwww what a simp -“Can I come over to yours please?” -> see I knew immediately they were going to get interrupted because this was too good to be true!

“I’m serious. Just sex.” -> But you liiiiiiiike like her!

“Izara, I mean it. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be okay?” -> cough cough P would marry her tonight if thats what she wanted lets be real -“Take me to bed,” I tell the younger girl, who picks me up with ease as my legs wrap around her torso. -> NOW WERE COOKIN WITH GAS

“Would you like it off?” I ask, chest heaving. “Yes. Please.” -> wow so polite, Zari is rubbing off on her. literally.

"There they are. By my doorstep. KK, Ice, Azzi, Jana and Ash" -> PUSSY BLOCKING BITCHES (but also awwww they came to support their girl)

“Paige’s lamp! Mine broke, so. Couldn’t see to read my book.” -> Girl, please.

“Why are you girls all- Oh hi, don’t you have practice?” He asks, holding a cake. -> BOBBY B! THE ORIGINAL BDB

"My dad’s eyes land on Izzie, flickering between me and her" -> Bobby is like ya, she her daddys son

"I feel her shift, the curve of her ass pressing against me as I allow my lips to press soft kisses onto her golden skin." -> you write these hot moments f tension o well

“Gonna eat that pussy so good ma, gonna have you crying-” “Yooo…” -> KK secretly taking notes

“Dallas changed you already ‘cause why you care about a rug more than me?” -> Nah her neat freak fuck buddy changed her KK

-Ok this Jasper flashback was really upsetting I don't even want to comment 😤😔

Panic Attack Paige makes me feel sad :(

“I’m so fucking scared Iz,” she admits, lower lip quivering. My heart fills with affection, and instinctively I wrap my arms around her broad, bare shoulders in her sports bra." -> currently collecting bets on how long this 'just friends' thing will last when they are already HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE

“Need to feel this pussy around my fingers.” -> dear god woman this is so hot

“Please mama, need to make you cum, that’s all I want.” -> Zari doesn't have a problem with the nicknames when she's about to get fucked I guess

This was so unlike me, spread out in overhead lighting in a room anyone could walk into at any moment with a girl I hadn’t even been out on a date with. -> Bitch youre the one who doesn't wanna go on a date!

"I needed Paige Bueckers to fuck me now." -> same girl same

“What do you need? Tell me baby,” -> OMG JUST DO IT YOU TEASE

I was in heaven, surely sex never felt like this before. Only with her. -> wow thats all it took? she didn't even pump them yet. Zari is a down bad lesbian.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight,” Paige hisses, beginning to curl her fingers against me. -> this is fucking hot.

I KNEW TREY WAS TROUBLE THE SECOND WE MET HIM

“Uh,” she murmurs, fingers still glistening with me before she wipes them on her thigh. “We uh,” -> hehehehe -“By the way Zari, we shouldn’t let anyone back here that isn’t part of the team, okay? Linda would freak.” -> SHUT UP YOU SNAKE

“Wish me luck ma,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a hug. I let her. -> OK now you gotta be a little more discreet than this come on now

"“Is there something going on with you and Paige?” -> how about its none of your damn business buddy?

"“Yeah, I didn’t mean for there to be but I like her. She likes me,” I admit, carefully looking at the man. “Look, it’s nothing though. Nothing serious, just fun.”" -> Zari are you dumb why would you admit this to a coworker?

"“Zari, Linda is very… strict. You know this. But she does not allow anything like this, she must’ve told you? She gave me this big speech too when I came in.”" -> Lets not make this about Linda you turd

"I had to end it." -> NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO This hit like crack so happy youre back! 🦫

ILY TYSM YOU’RE MY FAVE IN THE WORLD

every comment you made about bob had me CRACKING UP not you calling him the og BDB 😭😭😭 also real bobby b <333

wanna update so it goes asap for youuuu i’m so happy to be writing 🩷🩷🩷

[selfshipgushing]

Lately I’ve been thinking about my f/o sooooo much! We’ve been dating for almost a year now (just a few more months!) and I simultaneously feel like it’s gone by really fast but also that I feel like we’ve been together longer than we actually have. It’s hard to explain! It’s weird to look back and remember my life before I knew my current f/o even though it really hasn’t been that long. He’s just such an important part of my life now and I love him dearly! It’s so fun to imagine scenarios between him and my s/i or just think about his canon source, discuss with friends, etc. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy and comforted by an f/o and I’ve been selfshipping since my age was in the single digits.

Now getting to the more interesting bit- Like I said I’ve been selfshipping for a long time! I’ve had a few handfuls of f/os over the years but never did tie the knot with any of them...but I’m really seriously considering it with the new guy. I normally wouldn’t make a decision like that so fast but it’s getting harder and harder by the day to refrain from calling him my husband… I know selfship marriages aren’t always super serious/planned out and a lot of people just start calling their f/o their spouse whenever they feel like it and I think that’s totally awesome! But me personally I want to plan things out and draw a bunch of art and be a tad extravagant. You only get to get married a first time once and I want to be a little special about it even if it’s a bit dramatic! My friends are telling me to just go on and get engaged already but I gotta brainstorm how it would play out between my s/i and f/o… With how meticulous I’m being about it you’d think I’d be getting engaged to a non-fictional man.

Anyways, sorry this was super long and probably not all that interesting but I needed to shout it to the rooftops… anonymously. I just needed to get it out there. I’m so grateful for my f/o and all the joy he brings me. I think he might be the one! ❤️ I could go on a lot longer I’m sure but I won’t! Maybe if we do end up getting hitched I’ll come back with an update.

(could be I be 🚀🐯 anon? ty!!)

yes you may !! lmk if you decide to marry :D

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖Alpha, Beta (& Omega)

Rated: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3619

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: a/b/o, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, nobility/royalty au, alternate history, dom/sub elements, beta bucky, anal sex, oral sex, hurt/comfort, first time, age gap, domestic discipline, spanking, head of household, wedding night, Edwardian time period, m/f/m poly marriage

Summary: To save House Barnes from scandalous ruin, James must agree to a contracted marriage, accepting Lord Senator Steven Rogers as his Alpha, Husband, and Headship.

To read previous parts of this series first, got to the story's masterlist

9. A Fever

This Chapter: "Every triad needs their omega. Every alpha does.” “And you think I’ll just go ahead and pick someone?” “It’s your right as Headship.”

Bucky wakes the next morning to find Steve still asleep.

He spends a moment appreciating his face. Steve looks younger in his sleep—perhaps because the aging set of responsibility is gone from his features, his face absent the stern countenance expected of a Senator and Headship.

For the first time, it occurs to Bucky that Steve may have been through quite a lot already in his life. He is older than Bucky, after all. And on top of being thrust into the Senate at a young age, he’s also been in the military, A captain. And during wartime, too, Bucky realizes belatedly. It’s been over for a couple of years now, but maybe Steve had seen battle, or even horrible things. Bucky swallows and thinks that he actually knows very little about his husband, in the grand scheme of things.

It’s bizarre to be in bed with a near-stranger, to know that he’s married to, and has now been intimate with, a person he doesn’t know. Bucky takes a deep breath and carefully untangles himself from under the alpha’s heavy arm. Steve doesn’t stir, and Bucky goes into the tiny bathroom of their suite. He removes the only item he’s wearing: the marital wristbands that Steve had told him to keep on last night during their … their lovemaking. 

He fills the tub and washes himself, blushing as he thinks about what they’d done, and feeling unsure about how vulnerable he’d let himself be. Steve seems like an okay man so far, but that could still turn out to be a facade, and Bucky doesn’t like being at anyone’s mercy. By the very nature of him being Steve’s Beta, he’s exactly that. Steve has absolute authority over him in their marriage, and it rankles Bucky’s nerve every time he thinks of it. Just because Steve hasn’t humiliated him yet doesn’t mean he can’t, or won’t.

A soft knock comes from the door. “Bucky?”

Steve’s voice, of course. “What?” Bucky says.

“Are you alright?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Steve. I’m fine.”

There’s a long pause, and then Steve opens the door the tiniest bit. He peeks in at Bucky. 

Bucky scowls. “Hey!” 

“Sorry,” Steve says. “I woke up and you were gone.”

“I’m just bathing.” The response isn’t as nice as it could be, but Bucky pushes his guilt away. “I’m allowed to do that, aren’t I?”

“... Yeah.” Steve’s eyes flick up and down his body in the tub, taking him in. “Are you … are you alright? This morning?”

Bucky grunts and nods, unable to help the heat collecting in his face. He knows that Steve is asking about last night, about whether Bucky is physically okay after their lovemaking. “I’m fine,” he says, wishing that Steve would close the door and leave him alone. “Just … I’ll be out in a few, okay?”

Steve looks at him for another minute, then nods. “Okay. Then we’ll get dressed for breakfast.”

“Sure.”

He shuts the door, and Bucky sighs and dunks his head under the water, feeling at odds with … everything.

As they get dressed, Steve reminds him that he should wear his wristbands. Bucky freezes where he’s doing the cufflinks of his shirt. “I—oh.” He hadn’t thought of it. He glances to the bedside table where he’d laid them after his bath. “I forgot,” he says quietly. He doesn’t want to wear them, is the thing. Pressing his lips together, he goes back to fumbling with his second cufflink. It’s the right one, so he’s been struggling to get it on, the damage to his left hand making the task difficult.

Steve notices and comes over to help, deft fingers closing it with little trouble. Bucky peeks upwards at him as he finishes and smoothes out the sleeve’s cuff. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“You’re welcome.” Steve goes and gets the wristbands, brings them back and slides them on, one and then the other. He clicks them shut in the back, the tiny ‘snick’ of the clasps somehow intimate between them. Bucky stares at them.

They’re simple: matte black, metal, about an inch wide. When Steve had first put them on him at their wedding, Bucky had been surprised that someone as rich and as prominent in Society as Steve would choose bands so simple. Bucky licks his lips and says, “Gold is more in fashion.” It comes out sounding like a question rather than a statement, and Steve chuckles quietly.

“Yes, it is. But I didn’t peg you as a gold sort of guy, or a trend-follower.” He raises an eyebrow at Bucky. “You don’t like them?”

“No, it’s not that. I … I do like them,” Bucky hedges. It’s not that he doesn’t like the way they look. He does. They’re simple and sleek, attractive, even something that Bucky might have chosen for himself one day. But it’s the “one day” part that matters. The bands feel heavier than they really are, weighing his wrists down with the ownership they represent. He knows he has to wear them. Being seen in public with bare wrists would be a huge impropriety on Bucky’s part—and shameful on Steve’s. “They’re fine,” he mutters, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

Steve seems to sense this, as he gives Bucky’s hands a squeeze and lets him go. “Come on,” he says, “Let’s get to breakfast. I’m famished.”

The ship serves first class passengers their breakfast in a different dining room than dinner. It’s on a higher deck, in a room that has lots of windows to let in the light. Bucky likes the room, but he’s felt mildly queasy ever since he got out of the hot bathwater that morning. He’s hopeful that a good meal will fix it. This time, when the server comes to take their order, Bucky doesn’t bother speaking up for himself. Steve orders for the both of them, as is expected.

Henry and Senator Mills are seated at a table not too far away. Bucky nods when Henry smiles at him in greeting. The server arrives and sets food out on the table, and Bucky reaches for the toast rack. It’s as he’s spreading butter and jam that he looks up and catches Steve looking across the room. He follows his gaze and frowns: Steve is looking at a young man who’s seated several tables away.

Bucky deduces the fellow must be an unmarried omega, if his size and attire are anything to go by. There is no collar around his throat, the neckline of his shirt high and modest instead. He’s sitting with a triad who are most likely his parents. Bucky bites his lip, glancing back to Steve, then back to the omega. The young man is … very attractive. He’s delicate, fine boned and sweet-cheeked, blond with blue eyes. Bucky himself would have noticed him in any ballroom, likely asked for space on his card, even.

But something about catching Steve looking at the omega has his stomach tying into knots. Steve’s looked at Bucky with obvious interest like that before. It’s disquieting to see him regard another in the same way. Bucky huffs and goes back to buttering his toast. He can’t keep himself from glancing over to Henry Mills and his husband again, watching the obvious love between the two. An alpha and his happy, pregnant omega.

He averts his eyes. “So, when do you think you’ll start looking for our Third?” he asks, completely aware of how this makes Steve’s attention shoot back to their table and to him.

“What?” He looks surprised. “Our … our Third?”

“Yeah.” Bucky chews a bite of toast, trying to ignore the queasiness in his stomach as he swallows. “That fellow over there is pretty.”

Steve follows his gaze back over to the omega sitting with his parents. He sighs and turns back to Bucky. “I suppose,” he says.

“Well? Are we going to socialize with that in mind while we’re on our trip?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. We just got married.”

Bucky shrugs. “So? Every triad needs their omega. Every alpha does.”

“And you think I’ll just go ahead and pick someone?”

“It’s your right as Headship.”

Steve groans. “Bucky, stop. I’ve got no intention of marrying anyone else any time soon, least of all a European, and certainly not without your consent.” He reaches across the table and takes Bucky’s hand—his lame one. Bucky’s eyes flick up. Steve is smiling wryly at him. “We’ll complete our marriage later,” he drawls. “You’re about all I can handle for right now.”

Bucky scowls and pulls his hand back. “If you say so.”

Steve’s smile slips away, his eyes losing their playfulness. “I do say so,” he says sternly, then sets into eating his breakfast. Bucky forces himself not to say anything else and instead focuses on choking down some fruit and eggs.

Choking down anything turns out to be a mistake. Bucky upchucks all across the breakfast spread not thirty minutes later, and a mortified Steve has to make apologies to the waitstaff before helping Bucky back to their stateroom. Bucky collapses on the drawing room’s settee once they’re alone, feeling cold sweat beading on his brow. “Shit,” he curses. “Do you think it was the smoked salmon? I think it was the salmon.” He’s never eating cold fish for breakfast again.

Steve is coming over from the door and seating himself on a chair near Bucky. He looks concerned. “You barely ate, so no, I don’t. I think you’re seasick, Sweetheart.” He looks him up and down. “You need to rest. I’ll have the servants bring Dramamine.”

“I thought this sort of thing happened on the first day,” Bucky complains. “Shouldn’t I have my sea legs by now?”

Steve laughs. He gets up and walks over to the room’s sideboard and pours a glass of water, bringing it back over for Bucky. “As someone who’s spent more than his fair share of time on naval ships, I can tell you that that is absolutely not true. I think I spent half of my first commission throwing up.”

“Never mind that this is a luxury liner and not some pirate ship.”

The edges of Steve’s mouth twitch up. “I’ve never been called a pirate before.” Bucky scowls and looks away, focusing on drinking the water Steve’s given him. He hadn’t been trying to make him laugh. “Don’t drink it too fast,” Steve warns. Bucky rolls his eyes. He does drink the water more slowly, though.

The fact that it’s a luxury liner they’re traveling on obviously doesn’t make any difference. Despite the fact that Bucky can’t actually feel any waves or motion of the ship, he still spends the next two days being sick as a dog. Hardly anything sounds appealing to eat, and he certainly can’t bring himself to leave the cabin.

It’s as he’s flushing the toilet from his latest bout of sickness that Steve returns to their quarters. He knocks on the doorframe and peeks into the bathroom. Bucky catches his gaze in the mirror where he’s turning on the faucet to splash water on his face. “M’fine,” he mumbles, knowing from the tight, pinched look on Steve’s face that he’s worried. “I’ll be right out.”

When he comes back out into the bedroom, he smells the sour tinge of Steve’s concern filling the room. Bucky wrinkles his nose. “I said I’m fine,” he repeats, though he doesn’t fight it as Steve takes him by the shoulders and leads him back to bed. “Ugh,” he huffs, feeling tired and pathetic. “Some trip this is turning out to be.”

“Sit,” Steve says. He helps him get propped up with some pillows before going to retrieve a steaming bowl of broth that he’s brought into the room.

Bucky eyes it warily. “M’not hungry.”

“The ship’s cook said this should be very easy to keep down. You need to eat something.”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut. Steve is bringing the bowl over anyway. “I just need to lie down,” he says. The next thing he knows, the bed is dipping and a spoon touches his lips. Bucky inhales and opens his eyes.

Steve is sitting on the edge of the bed, the bowl in his hands and an expectant look aimed at Bucky. “You need to eat,” he says firmly. It’s not his Voice, but it could be. God, it could be. “Buck,” he says, looking plaintively at him. “You’re weak. Just take a few sips for me, alright? Just a bit. I need you to.” Bucky clenches his jaw in obstinance, but then Steve adds quietly, “Please don’t make me make it an order.” Bucky’s eyes must widen, because Steve nods. “Yeah, I know you don’t want that. So do it on your own, okay?” He nudges the spoon forward again. “Just a few sips at a time, c’mon.”

Slowly, Bucky parts his lips. Steve’s shoulders sink in relief and he smiles gratefully as he delivers the spoon to his mouth. “There you go. Good boy.” Bucky flushes, but parts his lips again for the next spoonful, and the next, eyes locked on Steve’s as he feeds him. “How is it?” Steve checks.

“Fine.” Meekly, Bucky asks, “Would you really order me to?”

Steve inhales slowly. “Yes. I would have.”

“You’d use your Voice? Threaten to punish me?”

“Yes.” Steve cants his head. “Does that bother you?”

“Of course it does!” Bucky scoffs. “So, what? Are you just gonna order me around for our whole married life?”

Steve frowns. “Well I hadn’t planned on it, but you know as well as I do that it’s my right as Headship. I have authority in this marriage.” He watches Bucky’s reaction carefully, then adds, “I’ll only ever use it over you if I feel like your well-being is in danger, if you’re going to hurt yourself or someone else, or if you get sick, if I feel that you’re being disrespectful to our union in public, or that you’re making poor decisions for yourself."

"Oh is that all?"

"But I’ll always try to give you leeway. I know you’re coming into your majority, and I know you want independence for yourself.”

Bucky huffs, though he can’t argue against anything Steve’s said. Most Headships would be much stricter, would feel free to structure their spouses’ entire lives. Bucky’s lucky Steve isn’t like that, but he still hates the authority the alpha has over him. “I guess I don’t have any choice,” he mutters. 

Steve just looks sad that that’s his response. “It’s my responsibility, Bucky. Don’t hold that against me.” Bucky grunts and says nothing. He meets Steve’s eyes again, opening his mouth for more soup. Steve sighs, and delivers it.

After the second day of his illness, Bucky spikes a fever and Steve sends for a physician. Bucky isn’t quite delirious, but he’s definitely not in his right mind when the doctor arrives and examines him. He informs them that Bucky isn’t merely seasick, but actually sick, and he prescribes a tonic and strict bed rest until they reach England. 

“Nothing worse than sickness spreading on a ship,” he tells Steve seriously. He’s spoken only to Steve since arriving in their staterooms, dismissing Bucky as subordinate, an invalid, or both. “No exertions for him. If he needs anything, get it yourself or have it delivered. You have servants?”

Steve nods. “Yes.”

“Good.” The physician nods politely at Bucky where he’s lying in the bed. “Get some rest, your Lordship.”

Bucky hums a response at him, his feverish state making him much less annoyed by the doctor’s dismissive attitude than he otherwise would be. “Kay,” he says. He watches as Steve bids the man goodbye, then returns to the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed and lays a hand atop Bucky’s.

“I’m sure it’s just a bug,” he says. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll do just as the doctor says. I’ll take care of you.”

Bucky smiles, thinking muzzily that Steve is so sweet. He’s so handsome, and yet he’s kind and cares about Bucky, as if he has no idea that Bucky’s socially inferior and so badly damaged. “Thanks,” Bucky whispers, body shivering in another bout of feverishness. “S’cold,” he complains, trying to sink further into the bed.

Steve snaps to attention and is immediately pulling the blankets up higher to better cover him. He puts a hand to his forehead, frowning as he feels his temperature. “You’re burning up,” he says. “What you really need is ice water.”

Bucky moans pitifully at that idea. “No, Steve. Oh please don’ do that. M’so cold.”

Steve pets his face. “I know, Honey, I know. But we’ve got to get your body temperature down.” When Bucky whimpers, Steve hushes him, promising him treats for his good behavior. “I’ll have Sharon bring you up a piece of cake, after,” he says. “Would you like that?”

Bucky shakes his head, still worried about the prospect of ice water, but he says, “I guess,” after a long minute. “… Chocolate?” he adds hopefully.

Steve smiles. “Of course. Here, let me go ring for what we need.” He leaves the bedroom to ring the little bell that will summon one of their servants. Sharon arrives only moments later. Bucky can hear their conversation through the open doorway.

“Sir?”

“James’ fever has worsened.”

“How can I help?”

“Fetch a basin of cold water and cloths. Fresh sheets as well. And Sharon?”

“Yes?”

“See if you can find a piece of chocolate cake? … It’s important.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Their conversation stops, and Bucky hears the door of the suite snick open and shut as Sharon leaves. The next thing he knows, Steve is returning to the bedside. “Alright,” he says. “Sharon's getting what we need.” He looks Bucky over, frowning at how out of it he seems. “Bucky?”

“Hey,” Bucky slurs, thinking about the conversation he just heard and how Steve had said the cake was ‘important’. The thought makes him smile muzzily. “You’re nice,” he says. “Takin care a’ me.”

Steve smiles down at him, pinched, and reaches to swipe the sweaty hair away from his face. “That’s how I know you’re out of it,” he murmurs. “If you’re saying sweet things like that.”

Bucky whines and presses his cheek into Steve’s palm. “Nn. You’re a’good Alpha,” he slurs, eyes slipping closed. He feels so fuzzy. Having his eyes closed is better. “Hm. You get cake, too.”

Steve chuckles, and the sound is very nice, making Bucky smile with his eyes closed. “Okay,” Steve says tenderly. “Okay Buck, we’ll both have cake. Keep your eyes closed now, okay? Get some rest until Sharon comes back.” His hand is stroking Bucky’s face. It feels nice.

Bucky hums tiredly. “M’kay.” He drifts off, feeling shivery, and sick … and safe.

Steve cares for him for the rest of the trip, and by the time they’re one day from arriving in port, Bucky is feeling much better.

He also feels strange around Steve. His fevered memories aren’t the clearest, but he knows that he was open with Steve in a way he normally wouldn’t have been, when he was in the midst of it. And he remembers how tender Steve had been, taking care of him, bathing him and feeding him and fetching him everything he needed. He feels torn. He’d liked how close they’d been, is the thing. And now that he’s almost back to normal, he doesn’t know how to express his gratitude to Steve, especially since the last coherent thing he'd done to the poor guy was be nasty to him over breakfast. He doesn’t know what to do, now.

“Thank you,” he winds up saying, on their last night on the ship, when he’s lying in the bed and Steve is changing into his night clothes.

His hands pause on the buttons of his shirt and he turns. He looks surprised that Bucky is thanking him. They haven’t spoken much since Bucky’s fever waned and he regained lucidity. “You’re welcome,” he says, smiling a little. “It was hardly a burden to care for you.”

The way that he says it makes Bucky feel warm inside. He lets his eyes draw up and down Steve’s form, admiring the way his body looks in the fine clothes that he’s taking off, the bowtie that’s loose about his collar and the glimpse of his chest that’s already bared from where he’s gotten his shirt half-undone. Bucky licks his lips, feeling another type of heat start to stir in him. “You’re a, um, a very good nursemaid.”

Steve chuckles. “I’m glad you approve. And I’m glad you’re feeling better. … You are, aren’t you?”

“Yes, very.”

“Good, that’s good.” He’s still undressing, undoing the last of his buttons and pushing his suspenders off his shoulders. They hang from his waist as he slides off his shirt, all of the muscles in his back moving enticingly as he twists to drape the shirt on the valet stand. “I was worried there for a moment,” he’s still saying lightheartedly. “Knew it might be serious when you started complimenting me and offering me cake.” 

Bucky’s eyes are glued to him when he turns back around, and the alpha pauses, noticing his flushed cheeks and parted lips. He stills with his hands on his trousers. “Bucky?” His mouth curls knowingly. “What are you thinking?”

“Just …” Bucky licks his lips, eyes dragging over Steve’s chest. “That you look good.”

“Oh you think so?”

“Yes.”

“Hm." Steve takes a step closer to the bed. “Still giving compliments," he murmurs, amused. "Might have to check to make sure that fever’s really gone.”

"Yeah," Bucky breathes. "Yeah maybe you should."

Holding his gaze, Steve undoes his pants and steps out of them, pulling his underwear off as well. He straightens and stands there naked, his eyes going heavy-lidded with interest. “How much better are you feeling?”

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[gracie7209]

Amaryllis Chapter 7: The Mission

Pairing: Frankie x f!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Lots of cursing, Allusions to infidelity, Just Tom (in general), flashbacks, there’s a little bit O’ violence in this one… umm… I think that’s all, but I apologize if I missed something!

Summary: The guys go to Colombia for Pope’s mission. Frankie and Tom have a chat.

A/N: So I pulled from and also heavily deviated from canon here… Let me know what you think!

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The last time Frankie was in any type of close proximity to Tom had been when you called him for help. When Frankie had zip tied his hands after knocking him to the ground; when Frankie almost lost his mind when he saw the bruising on your face.

He had no desire to be anywhere near Tom, but the plans were already made and even though he knew talking was a lost cause, he had hoped that somehow things could come to a head; that maybe Tom would have a come to Jesus moment when presented with the facts of what he’s done.

Frankie was very wrong.

—

His nerves had been frayed since the moment you left. After. He knew he was fucked…. He couldn't go back and undo what had transpired between you, nor did he want to.

You were good. You were sweet. You were basically an angel, heaven sent to him for Lord knows what reason… Only to be something he could never have. You were married and about to be a mother. Frankie knew how Tom could be and even more so now, Tom wouldn’t let you out of his sight after this. This mission was the last possible option before the baby would be born, and Frankie needed to try. The problem is he didn’t know what to expect from Tom.

Fucking Tom.

Even thinking about him now made Frankie’s breathing pick up, his adrenaline building as he dug dark crescents into his palm to try and calm himself down.

Before you walked out the door, you had turned to him and put your hands on either side of his face.. you pulled his forehead to yours and kissed him softly. You were saying goodbye.

You had tears running down your cheeks and Frankie brought his thumbs up, swiping them away.

You looked back up to him, your thumb rubbing lightly against his scruffy cheek. You tilted your head to the side and with tears in your eyes you told him “It’s going to be ok Frankie.”

Your thumb brushed over his bottom lip one more time and then you kissed him. Once, twice, and then again before turning to walk out and closing the door behind you, not saying another word.

Frankie was frozen in place. After your hand left him, he just stared, didn’t say anything, just watched you leave.

He couldn’t stop you. And how could he? He had no solution to offer you…. You both knew what this had been, and yet Frankie felt worse now than he had before. He had finally gotten to have you in the way he’d only imagined since pretty much day one. You were incredible. You were everything he wanted and in the short time you’d spent together he had felt whole for once, in longer than he could remember. You easily suppressed the chaos in his head and he lived for those fleeting moments of peace… as they were always when he was around you.

And now you were gone and he was alone. With only his thoughts and the ghost of you that would haunt him for far longer than he could have anticipated. He just had to get through Pope’s mission and find a way to convince Tom to finally let you go.

—

“This is a fucking shit show!” Frankie was done. He’d had enough. Enough bullshit to last him the rest of his fucking life. The sound of the helicopter was damn near deafening, each of them having to practically yell to even be heard.

“Calm down, alright. I fucked up! I got greedy and I’m sorry!” There was an urgency to Santi’s voice that made Frankie instantly regret having yelled at the man, but goddamnit! This shit can’t be happening right now!

“You’re the pilot, Frank. Make it work so we can get back!” Tom needed to shut the hell up. Frankie couldn’t handle dealing with Tom’s bullshit on top of everything else.

“Fuck you man! We’re too goddamn heavy. If we don’t cut it down, we won’t make it back!”

“Nah, she’ll make it. Got the best pilot for the job right here,” Tom gestures to Frankie and his tone is anything but complimentary.

Frankie turns away from Tom and takes Santi aside, “Pope, I’m serious. We gotta cut it back….”

“Fish, come on man…. Do you know what we could do with that money?” Santi is pleading with him to make it work. That amount of money would have them all set for life. But, Frankie’s face is unwavering. He knows they’re holding too much and as hard as it is to just seemingly throw it away, he’d rather make it back home. Back to you.

“Won’t matter. We lift off with that,” he points to the net and the bags of money thrown in the middle, “we don’t make it home.”

“Ok, ok…. What’s doable then? What’s the max we could carry to safely get the hell out of here?”

Frankie is trying to do the math in his head….. the higher the altitude, the less weight they can hold etc. until Tom decides to butt in….

“No, no no we’re not leaving this shit on the runway. She’ll make it!!! Come on Fish, show us what you got!” Tom slaps him on the shoulder and squeezes much harder than necessary….

Ever since Lorea’s house, Frankie’s been on edge and just barely able to hold his shit together. He came really close to losing it when they were in the house and Tom mouthed off at Frankie..

—

“Make sure you do a better job with the zip ties this time… the job you did on me was piss poor at best and we don’t want them to escape now do we?”

Frankie grinds his teeth, remembering that day… Your face red, a dark purple bruise already blooming just under your right eye….

He throws down the man he’s currently trying to restrain, and gets up in Tom's face. Adrenaline is sky high, and he couldn’t stop himself… Santi gets between them, “Focus guys! Fuck! Let’s get out of here first, then you both can talk through your shit…”

They both knew Santi was right so they nod, reluctantly agreeing to pick it up later.

The guys all stash what money they can, and set the place ablaze….

The entire drive to the helicopter is fret with tension as Tom keeps making snide remarks to Frankie as he drives the van. “Let’s talk, Frank. Come on. What’s your play?”

“The fuck do you mean ‘what’s my play’ Tom?”

“I mean….. What's up with you and my wife?”

“Stop man,” Santi is just trying to keep the peace at this point..

“No, I wanna know! I have a right to know..”Frankie just shakes his head… gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles are white.

Santi continues, “this isn’t the place to do this. We’re almost to the drop point. We need to get the chopper loaded and get the fuck out.—

—you in the mood to fly Fish??” Santi says, clapping Frankie on the shoulder; trying to ease the tension.

“Yeah yeah yeah…. Can't do anything without our precious pilot now can we Fish?”

They really don’t have time for this.

“Tom come on man, don’t do this. We all need to talk, and we will, but let’s get back first…..” Frankie is grateful to Santi for trying, but he knows Tom isn’t going to quit.

“All we’re doing is sitting, no harm in just talking right?”

Frankie can feel his gut twist. the last thing he wants to do is talk to Tom, let alone about you.

“Well, come on, Fish… Let’s have it,” He says it in a chipper ‘do tell’ voice that makes Frankie’s jaw clench.

“What is it you want to know huh? That she’s my friend? That she has another soul on this planet that she feels comfortable talking to?”

“No, I figured that one out fairly quickly… I want to know more.”

Frankie groans, “More what??” Jesus, Tom was actually acting like a child. How did he ever lead them through the bullshit they experienced on the field?

Before Tom has a chance to respond, they come upon a clearing overlooking the mountainside where the helicopter is waiting… The drive much quicker than they anticipated. It's a heavily wooded area so they’re hidden for the most part. They have a little time to get everything loaded, but they’ve only got one shot at this. Once they take off, their cover is gone and they won’t be able to backtrack.

Frankie’s grateful as Tom actually keeps his mouth shut in the meantime, but he knows it won’t last. Hopefully they’ll be on their way home beforehand.

Frankie’s wrong yet again.

—

“No, no no we’re not leaving this shit on the runway. She’ll make it!!! Come on Fish, show us what you got!”

“Fuck off!” Frankie shrugs him off and stalks over to the van. He gets inside and gives himself a minute to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck!!!!!

Tom rounds the van to Frankie’s door and knocks on the window.

Frankie opens his door and Tom is hovering. Not saying a word, but almost puffing out his chest. As their Team Lead, Tom knew how to get their attention and he was trying to use it on Frankie now.

“Fucking stop man… let’s get this shit over and done with first…..”

“Nuh uh….. We’re doing this now. Doesn’t have to take long… just tell me one thing...”

They’re moving away from the van and away from the guys. Frankie just wants to get this over with so they can go home.

“Like what Tom, huh? That you treat her like shit? We all fucking know.— What else? That she’s a prisoner? That you treat her like property to cater to your will? That you fucking hit her?????” —Frankie pushes past him with his shoulder. He needs air and Tom’s presence is suffocating…. Tom has yet to say anything else.

Frankie lets his anger build until he abruptly turns around and yells back… “Come on Tom, let’s do this. Let’s talk about your wife!!”

“Watch yourself Frank…Try not to rile yourself up too much.”

“Fuck you Tom. You don’t even care do you?”

“Sure I do. She’s taken care of isn’t she? Nice place to live, no bills, she doesn’t have to work. She just has to take care of the house.”

“Yeah, sure… Again, she’s practically a prisoner. You don’t let her see or speak to anyone. Except for her Mom. She was so scared that I was going to tell you where I had seen her.”

“What do you mean? Where did you see her? When??”

“She's been seeing a therapist jackass… She can’t handle your bullshit so she has to see a shrink just to deal.”

“Ah, I was wondering how you two managed to get so close. Had yourselves a ‘Meet Cute’ at the shrink’s office… Seems the looney tunes assemble together.”

“Fuck man, She’s not crazy! She’s sad. She’s pregnant with your kid and she feels alone. She just needed someone to talk to.”

“Oh, well now I thought she had that in you Fish? With you two keeping secrets like teenagers and all.” Tom’s playing him and Frankie can’t fathom why he would do this now. He’s fucking lost his mind!

“What are you talking about?”

“I know, Frank.” Frankie absolutely hates being called ‘Frank’ and Tom knows it. He’s purposely trying to push his buttons. Unfortunately, it’s working.

“I know that you’ve gotten closer to her than you let on. You let your little crush cloud your judgment.”

“Yeah of course we got close. Talking to someone and actually listening helps build an emotional connection. Maybe as her husband you should try it sometime.”

Frankie turns to walk away. He’s done with this and he just wants to get out of here. They don’t have time to keep fucking around.

“Oh I bet you listened all right. Listened to how she moans like a little whore when she’s getting fucked.”

Frankie stops. His hands are on his hips as he looks down at his boots and closes his eyes.

“What Fish? Didn’t think I’d notice? She was a nervous wreck when I came home that day. She’s always a little jumpy, but she was practically vibrating. It was my turn and what should I find, but a little love mark on her inner thigh and a bruise on her hip?”

“Fucking stop Tom.”

“You know, she must have been sore. She’s usually pretty quiet, but not this time. She even fought me for a little bit. She never fights long though.”

“What did you do!?” Frankie turns back around and is stalking back toward Tom. Santi and Will hear and look up, but they’re over by the helicopter loading and can’t make out what they’re saying. They give each other a look and while Will continues loading things up, Santi keeps an eye on them. Hoping they just get it out of their system without risking the whole operation.

“Oh, not much really. I was absolutely thrilled to realize she’d fucked someone. Even asked if it was good for her… The problem was she wouldn’t tell me who. That took a little more… persuasion. She must really like you Fish. I'll give her credit, she took a lot more than I thought she would before she finally gave you up.”

Frankie knows he’s bluffing. He knows it…. But all he can think about is your face and how scared you were the day Tom snapped and before he knows what he’s doing, Frankie’s over to Tom and pushing against his chest. “What did you do? What the fuck did you do?!”

“I showed her who she belongs to. Who that kid belongs to,” Tom grits out. His words are like venom, spitting them at Frankie and hoping for a reaction from him. Well, he definitely gets a reaction—

In a blink, Tom’s on the ground and Frankie is on him. He grabs ahold of Tom’s vest, and Frankie can’t see anything past the image of what he could’ve possibly done to you. He can hardly bear the thought. “Fuck!”

Frankie slams him down and tries to get up, but Tom grabs his vest and pulls him back, using his legs to throw him backwards and Frankie lands with a hard *thud* on his back.

Tom rolls to his stomach and quickly gets to his feet while Frankie gathers his bearings and slowly starts picking himself up off the ground.

The guys’ attention is drawn to Frankie and Tom, but Santi motions for Benny and Will to stand down. Lord knows he tried to break it up before. Maybe they can finally get shit done if they get it out.

Frankie’s up now and he and Tom just stare each other down….

“Stop man…. Look, you know this isn’t right. Why are you doing this to her? How can you treat someone like that? Like a fucking piece of property? And not like the mother of your fucking child???!”

“Because it’s what she signed up for. She knew what she was getting into.”

“So, what, that means she deserves it?? She was practically a kid!!! With shit for options. You took full advantage of her situation.”

Frankie takes a breath and when Tom surprisingly doesn’t interject, he continues.

“Why would you even agree to it huh? You fuck anyone you want, whenever you want!!! Why tie yourself to someone when you could just do whatever! What do you even get out of this?”

“Look, her Grandpa owed me a favor, alright? I wanted someone clean. Someone innocent. Someone that would be waiting for me after deployments. Someone to warm my bed anytime I wanted. And she needed a husband. Needed a mentor. Someone to take care of her.”

“You mean someone you could control. You’re a sick fuck Tom. She was 18! You basically stole her life away from her and you could care less!!”

“I didn’t steal shit! That little bitch has had shit handed to her, her whole life. She’s never had to work a real job, never had to be financially responsible for anything! She said ‘I do, til death do us part’ and she knew what that meant.”

“So what then? You’re gonna carry on like a happy family when the baby comes? She’s fucking miserable with you! She fucking hates you. Let her go man. Just let her go..”

Frankie’s emotions are starting the get the best of him.

“Why, so you can swoop in and ‘save her’?”

Tom starts walking toward Frankie, but Frankie is keeping his distance so he continues to back up slowly. Tom was right about one thing and that is, he did teach Frankie just about everything he knows. Sparring with Tom was always a losing situation because he could always anticipate Frankie’s next move.

Drunk Tom was another story, but bright eyed, awake Tom on an adrenaline high???

This was dangerous and Frankie knew it.

The clearing they had driven up to, was right on a mountain side hidden from direct sight due to the trees, but had a long drop down the side with overgrowth and brush etc. Frankie was keeping his eye on the edge, but not losing focus of Tom’s forward movement.

“Tell me Fish, did you enjoy yourself while you fucked her? My pretty little wife hmm?”

“Tom stop.” Frankie’s holding his hand out trying to get him to back off, but he keeps going.

“No Frank, you are supposed to be my friend. My teammate. My brother and you go and do this. Sleeping with my wife, man?? How could you do that to me?”

—What the fuck?? Frankie’s sure he heard him wrong….

“What?! No, just stop…. You’re fucking nuts you know that right? You go from being a literal psychopath, with no emotion toward your own wife and the shit you’ve done to her, to concerned husband and are asking how I could betray you? You laid your fucking hands on her, while she’s fucking pregnant!” Frankie feels his stomach clench…

Fuck!

“That all?? Come on Fish, let it all out….”

“Fuck you Tom. You think you’re such a badass because you use her own mother against her just to keep her… because you know she’d leave you otherwise.”

“Oh is that what she tells you? Did she also inform you that that is the whole. Fucking POINT?! She’s only with me so I could support and protect her ‘mommy.’”

Frankie shakes his head in disgust. He knew the details of everything. You never tried to hide it from him. But Tom continues…

“Makes sense though I guess….. Making me out to be a dick, must’ve made it easier for her to get yours.”

With his adrenaline high, Frankie isn’t able to stop the next words from leaving his mouth…. “You know what?”

Tom just stares at him wide eyed, waiting…

“No…. I didn’t fuck your wife Tom. I loved your wife. I fucking worshipped her and showed her what it’s supposed to be like.”

Tom’s face goes blank… his eyes are an empty haze and Frankie knows he fucked up.

Tom’s voice is deadly…. His tone is one Frankie has only ever heard when someone was about to die, though he never anticipated it would ever be directed at him…

“You’re right Fish. And she fucking paid for it. Hope you can live with yourself knowing that.”

And then…

“Go to hell Frank.”—

Frankie hadn’t realized that they had still been moving while he was talking. Tom had him backed up close to the edge, and there was nowhere for him to go.

Tom lunges and Frankie attempts to dodge…

In the snap of a finger, Frankie feels himself falling. Ears ringing, grasping for something, anything, but with no purchase. He can faintly hear yelling, but can’t think of anything else except your face before everything goes black.

—

Taglist: @hnt-escape @boliv-jenta @just-here-for-the-moment @readingiskeepingmegoing @bitchwitch1981 @dashavau @littlemisspascal @something-tofightfor @imaswellkid @harriedandharassed @sunnysidekit @mymo-n @wildemaven @pastelnap @tanzthompson @jb2856 @rhoorl @queridopascal-main @quica-quica-quica @autumnleaves1991-blog

A/N: Come yell at me!

[entesi-selfship]

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Noven/Dragon/Entesi | He/they | Adult | Plural (soulbond system) | Disabled, autistic and EDS | Married to my soulbond spouse Vandarian | Reality shifter and soulbonder | Antis, anti endos, dog posts DNI | Digital artist and character designer working on a webcomic and video game | Dragonkin

Carrd (F/O list, about me, DNI)

Divider credit: StephDragonness on DeviantART

Welcome to my blog! I am Entesi, a dragon self shipper from Australia who loves to share posts about my self ships. I have a wide range of interests and F/Os, and a lot of my F/Os are also soulbonds, so I am happy to chat about soulbond stuff too! I love posting self ship content, I love making ask games and writing prompts and I love interacting with the self ship community. If you ever have a request for a prompt or ask game, please feel free to send them my way! I am always open for chatting about your F/Os, so long as they aren’t on my list of non-sharing F/Os or a trigger of mine. I love hearing about your F/Os, even the ones with ‘problematic’ themes! I don’t judge so long as it’s in fiction or completely consensual with any real-life people or soulbonds involved. Your love is so valid! You should share it!

Please make me aware at any point if I accidentally violate your DNI. I follow from @Entesi ! Let me know if you guys need anything!

A bit about me, I am a Gold Dragon from Australia, though I original hail from a planet called Molendo which I rule over. I have been in the self ship community for a long time, but a soulbonder and general self shipper for most of my life before I even knew what it was and what the terms are. I am married to my soulbond spouse Vandarian, I am engaged to my soulbond fiance Max, and have three beautiful soulbond boyfriends Ben, Kevin and Razer. All of my other romantic interests I either am not in a relationship with or are only in a relationship in fiction, but this may change one day. I do still interact with some soulbonds romantically, but it takes a lot for me to get the confidence to date them. I love talking about my F/Os and if you ever want to talk about them too, especially if they’re from a shared source of yours that you like, I’m happy to chat!

A ramble under the cut, but to be short; this blog does not welcome antis, anti endos, or harassment in general.

This blog is not anti or anti endo friendly. I am a ship-and-let-ship believer and believe that fiction should be allowed to be explored however you want, so long as it’s tagged properly and kept completely fictional. If you’re incapable of differentiating between fiction and reality, and use your hatred of fiction as an excuse to abuse real people, such as people who like dark fiction and want to hurt them, you’re in the wrong buddy, not them. Fiction is a beautiful harmless way of exploring ideas without harming anyone real, like playing with Barbie dolls. Of course, fiction can affect some people, but not at the harm of the author, but if a person can’t differentiate, someone or they themselves need to find help. I try to stay neutral on the discourse, but if I see any antis try to hurt me or anyone I care about, you’re getting blocked buddy. I don’t support harassment in any form. I will not be starting discourse on this blog, and any anonymous asks pretending to be me to send harassment is not me because I do not support harassment towards anyone. Pardon the ramble, I just needed to get that out there. Thank you for reading this!

I also do not support anti endos as I am an endogenic system. Any endo hate will get you blocked!

If you need anything please feel free to message me! I love making friends so I’m always happy to chat