#i love u!!! hard things are often worth it!!!
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pikachu-says-peekaboo · 1 day ago
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[Image ID: A screenshot of Tumblr tags that reads as follows:
#and before one of u is like " i have no friends :(" i used to be there too actually #abusive partner cut me off from ALL of 'em. i didn't think i was lovable #it made me EXCEPTIONALLY shy. i still am actually!! #i just ... started saying "yes." #i would take pictures of flyers in my library and go to whatever events they had #i started taking community classes #if someone mentioned like "i am gonna startx group" i actually took a deep breath #and approached them to be like. okay i want in. #i started making the first move with new people - a small compliment #a smile or a little joke. just to share the space with them. #i have MASSIVE social anxiety. bad parent and bad relationship will do that to ya. #but i just... kept going. and going. and going. to each of these little things. and then... #like. .. idk ijust am very blessed. i have a STUPID number of friends #a lot of which i reconnected with. bc it turns out love is never wasted. adult life just. #like. gets in the way. but also.. i lovedu as a weird little kid. i love u now as a weird big adult. #i promise i PROMISE ur friends are out there. u just have 2 find them. and btw #i didn't make friends with everyone. but i did get a lot of people to smile or laugh. #aint that something. #this process took me something like 2 years. it was HARD!!!!! #i love are often worth it!
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having good & true friends will literally save and protect you in a million unfathomable ways. like okay we have written so many times about lovers. but the way a platonic friend laughs and cries with you. the way they hold your hand at 14 years old and at 34. the way they keep a little silver tie to you, touching base over and over and over. how you can go years without talking, only to re-meet and discover: oh shit! you're still cool!
there are people who have been in my life for more than half of it, and i have loved every version of them. do you know how fucking beautiful that is. yeah love will save the world. but the way friends love you is gonna save the you.
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stinkrascal · 3 months ago
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i have no problem answering wcifs but if you're gonna send me mean msgs in my ask box bc im taking too long to answer your wcif wherein you ask for the links of 18 separate outfits, thats not gonna make me "work faster" or whatever. i will simply not answer your wcif at all <3 i hope this helps!!
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onedirecton · 8 months ago
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Been taking morning walks lately and it has made me feel better!!!! 💕🌸✨💕💗❣️
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hoshigray · 6 months ago
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hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k
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THUD!
“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”
The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.
“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?” 
If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!
His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more. 
This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.
He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.
You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions. 
However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake. 
You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?
You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”
The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”
“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”
“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”
“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”
You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”
He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.
You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”
Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.
He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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nereidprinc3ss · 29 days ago
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trolley problem
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in which fem!reader has been gambling with her life and spencer reid is more than a little concerned
flangst, hurt/comfort warnings/tags: passive suicidal ideation from reader, she keeps risking her life, that really grinds Spencer’s gears, established relationship, existential dread, existential euphoria, lots of stuff about grief and death and self worth, not advocating for this, pretension from the author, blasphemy probably?, reader gets fuzzy from prescribed painkillers, arguing, hospital stuff, mention of sleep paralysis involving spiders, reader gets shot but she’s fineee, I pander to intro to philosophy takers, bau!reader, neurodivergent coded reader, if she’s not exactly like you I’m sorry, bean soup a/n: one day you’re in a writing slump literally the next you are in your notes app for six hours writing whatever the fuck this is but I think I love it even tho it’s weird and I hope u like it too!! btw this was gonna be called cotard's syndrome but then I never once talk abt cotard's but if u care that might be interesting context for the motif of not feeling human/alive, WC 3K
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Spencer hasn’t spoken to you since the doctor left the room five minutes ago. 
The air is antiseptic as you take it deep into the hollows of your lungs and trap it there for a moment, trying to optimize oxygen intake without actually having to breathe very often. Hospital smell is as universal as it is suffocating. It reeks of everything but death—flowers, blood, bleach, vomit. A humiliating, desperate scramble to defy the very thing that defines mortality. It’s pathetic. It reminds you of the worst instances of failure and loss and denial in your life. It curdles your blood. Literally rots you from the inside out. 
You’ve had ample time to ponder that smell over the last few months because you keep ending up here, and some time ago you decided the institution of the hospital is inherently absurd. It’s stupid to think you could avoid the one absolute condition on your corporeal form: impermanence. It is the only thing that is promised, and people still waste their lives away running from it. It is the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy. 
So around the time you acknowledged that hospitals are simply monuments to the self-importance of man, you gave up on trying too hard to preserve yourself. You’ve seen death too much and too often. You’ve tried staving it off with prayer and the miracles of modern medicine, and it never matters in the end because it’s all magical thinking anyway. All the wallowing and the bargaining and pleading never got you anywhere. 
You’ve accepted that from the moment you were born, you were marked for death. 
But you’re not a complete nihilist. You’re not even totally resigned to the abject certainty of death—because you’ve found a loophole.
Everyone has as many chances at escaping death as other people are willing to offer them at the cost of their own lives. Not many people are willing to make that trade—someone else’s life for their own—but you’ve decided you are. Because if not you, then who?
It’s not that you don’t see the value in your own life, as Spencer keeps making it sound. It’s just the opposite. You understand that you’ve got an extremely valuable resource, and you don’t just have to sit on it. There are things you can do. Choices you can make. Ways to defy death. 
Just… not yours. 
Or maybe you’re just in deep denial. 
Either way—this is a philosophy your boyfriend intentionally refuses to understand. He gets mad, or some kind of upset, every time you try to explain it. Usually he ends up leaving the room close to tears. You never feel good about it.
Right now he’s presumably trying to give you the silent treatment and not doing a very good job. 
“Stop holding your breath. Why are you—stop that.”
Spencer’s frowning, skin sallow and milk-blue under fluorescent lighting. Purple seeps from around his eyes like spilled wine on a white table cloth. Your stomach turns. 
“Sorry.”
He doesn’t tell you not to apologize. You don’t expect him to. 
“Why are you doing that? Does something hurt?”
Other than your entire bicep being on fire due to the 9 millimeter Luger it recently came into contact with?
“Not really. I just don’t like the smell of hospitals.”
At that, he gets stony again. Like, Medusa stony. You feel a tightening in your chest that has nothing to do with a lack of air. His arms are crossed. A silk lined blazer drapes over your lap, and you wonder if he’s cold in just that white button up. It’s translucent in this light, like onion skin, or maybe something less organic—the folds and wrinkles look like fabric, but lots of things look like something they aren’t. In the Pietá, Jesus lounges dead on his mother’s lap, his cheek pressed to her arm like either of them have warm flesh, and her skirts drape from her knees and fall to the ground in delicate folds just like Spencer’s jacket and looking at pictures of it you swear you could find comfort there too—but if you wanted to make space for yourself next to Jesus you’d have to do it with a chisel and mallet. You’re starting to think that’s what it’s going to take with Spencer, as well. 
“So stop walking into active gunfire. You’ll spend a lot less time here.”
Every deep sigh (of which there have been several) calcifies you further. Ironically, you never feel less alive than you do in a hospital. 
“I didn’t walk into active g—”
“I’m not debating it with you. It’s not a discussion.”
“So you’re just going to be pissed at me for the rest of forever? I mean, if it’s not a discussion—what are you gonna do? Break up with me?”
You feel yourself dripping poison in the well. Even as you say it. As his head tilts toward you slowly and intently from his spot against the wall, and his warning gaze is cold and unforgiving and weighs 3.35 tons.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Talk?”
“Don’t try and manipulate me by implying that there are no options between permissiveness and dumping you!”
“I’m not manipulating you. And I don’t need your permission to do anything.” 
The first part is an incredulous scoff as well as a blatant lie. You are manipulating him. Chisel and all. At least, you were trying to. It clearly doesn’t work very well. His jaw clenches.  
“Is this worth it to you? Fighting with me like we’re children solely so you don’t have to take accountability?”
“Accountability for what? I made a choice. I don’t regret it. You’re upset because I did my job.”
A beat. 
Silence always makes you feel the gravity of your words. 
“Do you believe that?”
His voice softens so much, so quickly, it splinters down the middle. 
You’ve never been known for your light touch. For someone who sees eviscerated bodies nearly every day, and prides herself on her evolved understanding of mortality, you often forget other people are not, in fact, impenetrable marble—they are flesh and blood and bone, and you’ve splattered yourself in the evidence of that. 
“What?” You murmur. You easily turn timid, when you’re afraid you’ve been too heavy-handed. Spencer’s seen you sob over the birds who hit the windowpane and never reappeared from the shrubbery—their delicate wings, their little beaks—he didn’t mean to, Spencer, and now he’s dead! He’s seen you spend forty minutes catching a spider with a cup and an envelope rather than smush it, even though you have reoccurring episodes of sleep paralysis wherein a giant arachnid is sitting on your chest, hissing and clacking its pincers. He knows you are, at your core, kind and good. 
It’s a little scary for someone to know that about you. It’s a little scary when you see your own vulnerability reflected in their eyes and the way they speak to you, the way you see it in him now. 
“Do you believe that the choices you make regarding your safety don’t concern me at all?”
“They’re… my choices to make,” you whisper, but you’re less sure than you were a minute ago. 
“I’m not talking about that—I’m talking about how it feels like you are trying to kill yourself every time we’re in the field.” His voice shakes. You swallow. “You have been hospitalized for four serious injuries sustained on the job in the past five months. Every time I bring it up, you—you talk about life like it’s optional for you. Like you’re not only willing to give it up but are actively looking to throw yourself in harm’s way every chance you get. You think that doesn’t terrify me?”
There’s a small chip in the paint on the wall next to him roughly the shape of Africa. 
“It’s not like that. I’m… I’m just having an unlucky streak.”
He snaps. 
“Luck isn’t going to get between you and a bullet. Ever.”
“It’s my job, Spencer.”
“No. It is a risk of the job. Not a defining feature or requirement. But you keep running toward gunfire like you have a quota to meet.”
“Spencer, I’m not doing it at you. I’m not trying to get myself hurt.”
“Well it doesn’t really feel like you’re trying to avoid it, either,” he shoots back immediately, and you feel the anguish radiating from him until it lodges in your own chest, like it was always yours. Maybe it was. 
You want to make it better, but you don’t know how, and even if you did, he’s pushing off the wall and crossing the room toward the door. 
“Where are you going?” You call, a little too desperately for your liking. 
“You need to eat something.”
Which translates roughly to he’s pissed and upset and he needs to leave the room. You’ve done this song and dance before. 
However, food and an absence of him are contenders for the absolute last two things you want right now. 
“Spencer, please don’t—”
But the door is already whooshing closed. 
You stare at the grey and white checkered floor. Light bounces off the waxen reflection—some sort of parallel universe you can’t reach, perhaps. The whole room is desaturated. A mechanical humming threatens to drive you insane. It doesn’t feel like a place for living humans. You’re not convinced you are one. 
When he comes back, maybe ten minutes later, nothing’s moved at all. In fact you’re not even sure you’ve been breathing. 
The door closes as quietly as it opens. 
This time, wordlessly, Spencer comes to you. You see his shoes first—his serious adult shoes. You wish he was wearing his Converse. 
Then you see the bottle of apple juice he’s cracking open for you. Blue lid. Same kind you always get. 
“You didn’t bring food.”
“You wouldn’t have eaten it.”
Fair enough. 
You take the bottle with your good arm and sip shallowly—all that adrenaline and the subsequent interpersonal strife has left you nauseous. The drink is too sweet. It clashes with the tang of metal in your mouth. 
Still, you drink enough to satisfy him, and then you’re tossing his jacket aside before balancing the bottle between your thighs so you can screw the lid back on. He doesn’t go back to the couch or his spot on the wall. 
Spencer doesn’t pull away when you lean into him, but it does take him a moment to reciprocate. You’re still grateful all the same when he cradles the back of your head to his stomach like you’re made of porcelain. 
“I don’t think you understand how upset I am,” he says quietly. 
Only Spencer Reid could be furious with you and still hold you like this. 
“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 
“That’s not good enough. You need to stop risking your life like that.”
He doesn’t get it. Your brows flutter as they try to furrow but even holding that expression saps you. Maybe the pain meds are finally kicking in. 
“I just wanna help people.”
“That doesn’t explain to me or justify your urge to do it at the cost of your own life. We all want to help people, angel. The whole team. That’s why we do what we do. But we don’t run into shootouts. We don’t split off and provoke people with guns when we’re unarmed and unprepared.”
“But it worked. She got away.” You feel a spark of fulfillment at the memory of Gloria Sanchez in JJ’s arms just before the ambulance doors had slammed you into your first cage of the night. 
“We don’t know if he was going to kill her. He might not’ve fired at all if you didn’t go running toward him. That wasn’t strategic, it was reckless and irresponsible and you know that. I know you do. So something else is going on.”
The pressure in your nose that usually precipitates tears comes as a surprise. 
“I just—if that’s how I can save someone, why shouldn’t I, you know? Why do they have less of a right to live than I do just because they’ve been deprived of the choice? If I have a choice, and they don’t, I should choose to… to help them. That’s my job.”
For a long moment, you listen to your own breath, muffled by Spencer’s shirt, and the mechanical humming, and something dripping, and the low, buzzy chatter of nurses far down the hallway.
When Spencer next speaks you get the sense he’s holding a lot back. His voice is taut enough it wavers slightly. Taut enough that if he weren’t speaking so quietly he might be yelling. It’s like pinpricks all over your body—not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you’re paying attention. 
“You can’t help anyone if you’re dead. Do you understand me?”
And yes, in theory, you do. But that doesn’t negate your original point. It only takes one life or death moment for you to utilize the most valuable resource you have. What happens after is no longer your concern. 
“On the psych evals you helped develop it asks if you think it’s appropriate to sacrifice the one to save the many. The answer is supposed to be no. If you say yes you get flagged. The FBI frowns upon… lever-pullers. And that’s exactly what I’m doing if I let one person die when I could’ve potentially saved them.”
“Protecting your own life is not pulling the lever. What you’re doing isn’t smart or morally righteous. You’re just throwing yourself across the tracks, too. If you were to fail a psych eval right now it would be because you’re passively suicidal. And you know what? The FBI also tends to frown upon self-immolative delusions of grandeur and girls who like to play sacrificial lamb.”
“’M not a… sacrificial lamb…”
“No,” Spencer agrees quietly, stroking your hair. “You’re not.”
And you can’t react to the fragility in his voice, or the content of his words, and the fact that when he says it he means something different—you can’t do anything about it. You can only catalogue it. You can only know that he loves you, and feel a little guilty about it.
Some time passes. You don’t know how long he remains standing so you can doze against him. He does not smell like the hospital. He’s the antidote for whatever grief they distill from widows and orphans before aerosolizing it through the whole place. 
“Baby?” He asks eventually. You know the lilt of it. He’s been thinking. 
“Hm?”
He hesitates. 
“Can we talk about you maybe taking some time off of work?”
“You heard the boss,” you mumble. “I can’t come in for at least a week.”
“I mean beyond that.”
You intend to respond, but by the time you open your mouth you’ve lost the prompt in all the brain fog. 
“You’re so comfy,” you murmur dreamily. “Thank you for being mad at me.”
If he responds, you miss it. 
You’re imagining the bed waiting for you at home, once the doctor is done observing you—warm, neatly made. Blankets woven with soft fibers. A mattress that will sink under your weight. You think of Spencer, who’s shaping himself to you, Spencer, who intentionally inhales when you exhale at night to make room for the rise and fall of your chest against his. You think of the imprint of his buttons on your cheek. You are both flesh and blood and bone. 
Strange, pill-induced half dreams and visions and memories take over. You’re in that alleyway again. That man fires. You don’t blink or scream or feel. 
Just before the bullet makes contact you’re standing in front of the Pietá. It’s massive. Spencer is there, too, holding your hand. 
You can’t actually see him, only, you know he’s there. You feel his warmth, his presence, when he leans over to whisper in your ear. The way you know him goes beyond sight. 
The Pietá—meaning the pity, in English—is 6’7” and six feet wide. It weighs 6,700 pounds. Michelangelo had to quarry the block of marble himself. He was only 25 when he finished. The Basilica keeps it behind bulletproof glass. 
Jesus and Mary behind bullet proof glass. 
God. Who’d try to kill Jesus a third time? He’s already dead. 
Besides—they’re both made of stone. Bullets would probably just ping right off of them. Or maybe they’d shatter just like you did. 
Probably not though. You’re not actually made of marble. You’ve no idea what it feels like to be a statue and get shot at. You sure know how it feels as a human, though—and it feels like shit. You don’t really know why you keep doing it. None of your reasons are good enough for Spencer, and he’s, generally speaking, pretty smart about some things. 
Maybe you’re tired of being human.
Maybe you’re tired of sleeping on your arm funny and waking up to a hand in your bed that doesn’t feel like yours and remembering all the hands you’ve held moments before they couldn’t hold yours back. Or tired of those moments where you are being held and it’s so unbelievably perfect and then someone has to let go, or when someone you love hugs you goodbye and you realize that there will always be a final I love you, or simply getting older and watching potential life paths fall away like rotten fruit to the ground. Maybe life is sometimes so good it hurts and you can’t bear it. So you tempt fate. You walk a tightrope because even if you fall and it can’t ever feel good again—at least it can’t hurt either. At least you won’t lose anymore. 
And yet. 
It does feel good, sometimes. Sort of often, actually. Even when it’s awful. 
Dead Jesus and Mary, with their marble skin and their bulletproof glass and their holiness and their virginity and all the other things they have that you don’t. Nobody can hurt them anymore. Not ever. 
Maybe that’s something you envy.
But you doubt they’ve ever been so terribly, wonderfully alive as you’ve been, or as comfortable as you are like this, leaning into Spencer’s warmth and his softness, in the hospital, or the Vatican, or your dreams. Your bicep was ruined but it’s healing. You are capable of ruin and rebirth in the same lifetime. In the same day, in the same hour. 
You doubt that in 520 years, behind bulletproof glass and unyielding, eternally flawless skin, they’ve ever felt as invincible as you do now. 
You doubt they ever could. 
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tokiiwonz · 5 months ago
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riize as twitter links (nsfw) !!
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a/n: i loved writing this :( also ot7!riize. if the links ain't working, try logging in ur account, that said be mindful, strictly dni to minors
shotaro
shotaro is obsessed with having you on his lap while giving him the ride of his life; the way you rock your body against his, take him as deep as you can as he kneads your ass are the things that could keep him hard for hours. there's nothing more perfect for taro than seeing your face and holding your waist while having him fully sheathed inside you.
sometimes, shotaro is just too caught up with the heat to take your clothes off before fucking you; he doesn't mind any of that, in fact, he's quite into the use of clothes, especially his neckties and belts, as some type of bondage just to assert his dominance.
eunseok
similar to shotaro, eunseok lives for the sight of you on top riding him. he easily gets weak on his knees y'know :((( you're just too pretty for him to even fuck you properly in a missionary, so as much as he could, he just lets you ride him for as long as you want.
eunseok is a romantic and there's not a time where he passed on an opportunity for a soft & gentle fuck sesh. physical touch is his love language after all, and the best way he displays it is by having his cock deep inside you as he makes your toes curl in pleasure <//3
sungchan
sungchan just wanted to stay at riize's dorm with his you, but he's had enough of you flirting so much with his members, so he decided to fuck you next to a thin wall so everyone could hear how much of a slut you are for him
it's not often for sungchan to get sexually frustrated easily considering the amount of head you give him on a daily basis, but every once in a while, he loves fucking you rough and harsh—it’s not everyday he gets to have his dick inside you, so if given a chance, he never misses to take the chance to wife his boyfriend up >.<
sungchan loves casually sending you his dick when he's horny, and he'd rather do that instead of telling you directly that he needs a head.
wonbin
if there's one thing wonbin is obsessed with, it's him having his hands all over your body while thrusting deep inside you. wonbin's schedule doesn't align much with yours, so he makes sure he takes his time making you feel good even in the bathtub whenever he gets the chance to touch you.
carrying you by your legs as he fucks you might be wonbin's favorite position, he just makes you submit easily with that y'know? he loves it when you can't do anything but to moan, kiss him and scratch his back down in pleasure while you helplessly watch him bulge your stomach with his cock
seunghan
after practices, seunghan just loves to blow some steam off by fucking you in his car, and you can't blame him <\3 the way he sees his cock sheath fully inside you just riles him up even more—it’s not that he likes to be rough and aggressive most of the time, he just can't resist himself from going feral after a long day :(((
seunghan loves receiving head from you and considers it a reward >< he loves the warmth of your mouth being wrapped around him, and it just makes him release more & more precum into your mouth. not to mention the way you gag on his cock as you deepthroat him turns him on so much that he just wants to fuck your mouth ‘til he's satisfied
sohee
one thing about sohee, he loves being rewarded for doing the best he can in every way possible, and that includes him riding your cock ‘til he tires himself out
being away from you for weeks pains sohee a lot than you could ever imagine <\3 he's always left with no choice but to play himself with the thought of you while he's away. he would send you lots of his videos bc he just misses u so much, so u better send something back, mkay?
anton
if anton has a kink, it'd be his size kink. he's just so big that he loves seeing you all stretched up taking his fat cock on all fours. it's definitely a sight-worth-seeing for him watching you struggle because of how small you are to take his cock.
anton loves fucking you with his clothes on, which may seem like a simple thing to others, but anton could get quite possessive of you and it's one of his many ways reminding you of who you belong to. though he's not all bad, he just wants you for himself, y'know? it's adorable how he'd even talk you through your orgasm while holding your hand just to make sure you're taken care of very well.
misc.
coming home from promotions after promotions, there's nothing more wonbin and sungchan wanted to do than take turns fucking their boyfriend all night long to relieve stress >< you're just so good & obedient for them that you're willing to stay up all night letting them use you to ease the pent-up sexual frustrations they had all month
seunghan loves your mouth as much as anton loves your ass so there's no better way than to indulge to it through a soft spitroast <3 seunghan is just addicted to having you moan and gag around his dick while tonnie fucks you from behind :(( they love getting you so cockdrunk that all you could is their cocks making you feel good :(((
eunseok & wonbin could get experimental most of the time, but they never expected how compelling double penning you could get. making you cum has always been their priority, and it's so hot seeing you cum with both of their cocks inside you :(
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mortalityplays · 8 months ago
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You need more free art.
I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.
You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.
We all need more free art.
So what am I going to do about it?
This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.
I'm going to do this:
1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.
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This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.
Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.
2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.
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Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.
Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.
I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.
2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY
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To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.
On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.
You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.
3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS
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Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).
The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.
4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE
I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.
tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!
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signedkoko · 9 months ago
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HEHEHHEE OPEN REQUESTS???
Hello koko! I was summoned by your open requests, and I just had an idea, how about headcanons/one shot for Alastor and Vox (separately) with a reader who has powers a bit like Toge Inumaki in JJK?( I saw that you were watching JJK so I assume you know how his powers works) like what do they think about it? how do they react when reader uses her powers? How they communicate with her?
THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST DEAR KOKO! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT
-🐚
Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]
In which your speech causes action, so you can't speak unless you wish to control others. Reader is female.
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When you first came to the hotel, Alastor was not impressed
You were certainly a gorgeous sight, but it was ruined by the device in your hands that you had your nose buried in, screen lighting ruining your face
It took him quite a while when he heard strings of words emanating from the device to realize you were speaking through it, your fingers pressing on keys faster than he could follow
You introduced yourself to everyone that day, as a new hire for the hotel, and how you couldn't speak but hoped it wouldn't get in the way
He was certainly irked by the device in your hands, but it was funny to see someone so weak that they had to rely on a flimsy device made by an even flimsier overlord
Truly a shame
You learn the hard way not to get too close to him while using your device, or else it starts to act up and get damaged
Alastor still spoke to you; of course he did! Because he was amused knowing you couldn't retort
But eventually, without noticing, he would talk more and more, filling every aspect of the silence between you
You were the best listener, both since you had no choice and because you didn't give any shitty advice
The only thing that weirded him out was the weird clicking he started to hear around you
Something about it was so familiar
J-E-R-K-J-E-R-K-J-E-R
When he looked down at your hand and saw a clicker in your hand, he realized what you were doing
Of course he knew morse code by heart! He studied all sorts of things, but he wasn't sure why you'd do things that way when you had a much easier device
Unless you did it just for him?
R-K-J-E-R-K-J
" And who are we calling names, my voiceless companion? "
Y-O-U
Still, it's very touching to see you go from using your phone to putting it away when you come to him to talk
And not much changes since you can't get out too many words with your morse method
One evening, while on a walk together, Alastor was reciting to you how he'd come to work for Charlie and how she sang on the news for so many to see! When a group of assassins surrounded the two of you, angel steel weapons were on full display
Before Alastor handled them—which, let's be fair, would be no issue to him—you pulled quicker on the draw
" COMATOSE. "
You yelled it with your hands clamped over Alastors ears, and the instant the word came out, they all dropped, beyond unconcious
Alastor laughs, because wow, that was quite the display!
But he's already dragging you over them to continue talking, now teasing you for treating him like a helpless damsel
He was certainly glad that he hadn't made an enemy of you when he first saw you, because you may stand a chance against him with an ability like that
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Most sinners had some kind of ability that grew with their power, often souls under contract or training enhancing them
Vox himself had plenty of tricks under his sleeves, and he'd seen the most pathetic of abilities to those worth cowering before
But he'd never heard of something like yours
Overlords loved showing off their resources, which could include people who became very useful in battle
You were a 'friend' of Zestial, though, while most jumped at the opportunity to introduce themselves to other overlords, you only waved
Of course you piqued his interest, because when he ran his servers over you, he found little to nothing beyond pictures
After several days of stalking video feeds, he caught you and Zestial together when—oh fuck! You sign!
While he could have just waited for the next opportunity, Vox was far too invested in your story and opted to pay Zestial a visit, if it meant he could see you
From what he could tell, you were using ASL, so once he bumped into you he began signing his typical introduction
Something about his heart sparked when he saw you smile, the way those curious eyes sparkled
He was immediately embarrassed when you revealed he didn't have to sign because you could hear
But he was all healed when you signed that you were very glad to have met someone else you could talk with
Vox is used to the overstimulation of noises from news, music, footage, all of it always beaming into his head so much that the silence around you is eerie and takes him awhile to get used to
Zestial certainly has an ace; one Vox is jealous of
Since you got along so well, you and Vox schedule meet-ups so you can interact, seeing as he and Zestial are almost exact opposites
The first time he witnesses your powers is when Alastor shows up at one of your meetings, and he was certainly trying to embarrass Vox in front of you
But Vox was your friend, and you had no tolerance for Alastors threats
" Silence. "
From your lips poured a thick fog, which whisped its way over Alastor's mouth, forming a seal that prevented him from speaking
The radio demon wasn't pleased, but he wasn't about to act up a scene right now, so he turned and left
Vox immediately fanboys because, oh my FUCKING GOD, you showed him!!!
Wait, you can talk? You sound like that?
YOUR POWERS DID THAT???
He is about to waste your evening asking all kinds of things, you probably can't sign as fast as he can ask, too
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Author's Note - Conch anon gets only the BEST of the BEST!!! I did like writing these anyways though, because i adore Inumaki...thank you for requesting!
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loveemagicpeace · 1 year ago
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North node in houses🌠
🫧North node in 1st house-you can fight with your personality, appearance, courage and fear. You have the feeling that you never have enough courage to do something or you are afraid that you will embarrass yourself or that you will look stupid. The most important thing here is that u trust yourself. Maybe you can pay too much attention to what others think, but the mission here is to pay attention to yourself. The key lessons of the north node in first house are developing independence and learning to be brave and stand up for yourself. You also need to let go of the abandonment issues and clinginess. You have to find a way to find yourself (many times someone can help you), especially the person who have the first house placements can open you up a lot personally.
💗North node in 2nd house- many times you can have problems with your value. People with this placement often struggle between materialism and love. Many times you can feel that money shows your worth. Which means that without money you can feel worthless. You can see love through money or you can feel that this is why people love you. You can feel power through money, valuable things, cars & everything related to luxury. You may have problems with food or you may have an unhealthy relationship with food (this can be in several ways). Let's say you only eat once a day. Many times you can lose your appetite if you have too many worries (especially money-related). Also I don’t know why but I noticed that these people don't like music. In general, it's hard for you to find pleasure in life, but it's actually one of the most important things. U are worthy! Remember that.
💬North node in 3rd house- you may have a problem with speaking, expressing yourself. It is difficult for you to find the right words to describe how you feel or what you want to say. NN guides individuals along a path of mental and social growth. Communication and writing are very important with this placement. You can develop as a person a lot through writing and journaling. You can have close friends or you can be happily married, but you feel that you are a stranger in your local community.
🏖️North node in 4th house- you have a problem finding your safe place, people with whom you feel safe and at home. You want to have your own private space where it's just you. There is a tendency to want to control everything and everyone, what can cause you trouble in your family life. It is hard for you to cooperate with others. Maybe you felt like you never had anyone who was really there for you or with whom you felt completely safe. Your home can sometimes be an unsafe place for you. In this life u have to find your safe place and people.
🎠North node in 5th house- you may have trouble finding your joy. Maybe it's hard for you to be in the energy of a child or to give in to your inner child. I think a little prince book would be good for people with this north node-to remember what it's like to be a child and surrendered in your childish joy. You may have trouble showing your talents and being seen. You can also have a dating problem. You can also feel lonely, even though you are surrounded with people. Many people with this placement are afraid of standing up for themselves and prioritizing their own wishes. You have to learn to shine on your own. Find things that make you happy. Remeber the happy memories.
🌸North node in 6th house- you have problems finding your own routine. Maybe many times you have a problem with your health (in the sense that you worry too much about how things will turn out or not at all). Maybe it is difficult for you to find a suitable job or a job that would really interest you. This north node also suggests that you are prone to escapism. Maybe it's hard for you to stay in one routine. But since this house is also connected with animals, others, the physical body - this can also mean that you have a problem with getting along with animals or you have a more alienated attitude towards them (not necessarily), it can also mean that you often face the loss of animals.
🎨North node in 7th house- you can have relationship problems, stay in a relationship, or let go completely. You may always have the feeling that something is missing or that the person is not giving you as much as you thought. Many times you can be hurt by people. Maybe you never feel fully accepted in a relationship. You may face a lot of ups and downs in life, justice, maybe even a divorce, or maybe your marriage is more challenging. You want to do things your own way. This also suggests that you don’t like taking advice from others. Here you have to learn to accept the opinion of others and listen.
🌊North node in 8th house-you maybe have issues with your intimacy or being intimate with others. It’s similarly to Scorpio north node. You also have some trust issues and you do not easily trust people actually. It's very hard for you to trust someone and really believe them. You can carry a lot of secrets within you. Maybe since you being a child or from your very early age. It could be some secrets about your family and you don't want to tell anybody. You feel like nobody really gets you or understand you or that nobody will accept your dark side. Can also be some dark stuff about your family that you're ashamed to. You want someone who will be there for you forever. Somebody that will never die(vampire diaries thing),somebody that will never leave you ,somebody you can trust with all your heart. Ride or die kind of love.
🧁North node in 9th house-it is difficult for you to find faith, meaning and optimism. You may have lost your faith as a child and it is difficult for you to find something to believe in again. It can also mean that your faith has disappointed you and that the things you strongly believed in were not what you thought they were. Goals are to find meaning and live for it. You have to learn to live in the moment and enjoy the given moment, because you never know if you will be able to experience something twice. You have to grow through what you are. Another key life lesson with this placement is developing a sense of freedom.
☕️North node in 10th house-In this lifetime, you can experience tremendous growth in this life area if you are willing to face the challenges and lack of experience. Your soul wants to take responsibility for your life and become the master of your own ship. You may have trouble building a career or feeling worthy of it. Many times you are looking for your place in this life and among the audience. You want to be seen and noticed. You want to make an impression. You may have a problem with your father or your relationship with him may be a bit distant. It can also be that it is difficult for you to be around people who are older than you and that you feel uncomfortable.
🐚North node in 11th house- you can have problems with friends. Maybe it's hard for you to find a friend who would really understand you and see you for who you are. Many times you feel like you don't belong in the group and that you are the outsider in the group. Even though you craved friendships, the north node in 11th house suggests that in the past, you didn’t fit in well in any circle of friends. Many north node in 11th house people are lonely as children and young adults. You may have a problem keeping friends and people around you, and quickly people don't suit you.
❄️North node in 12th house- you have a problem with staying hidden. You have the feeling that people don't see and understand you the way you would like them to. People with this placement tend to be hard on themselves. It can be harder for you to forget and forgive things. People with this placement are strongly attached to reality. It is actually hard for you to be dreamy. In your lifetime you can meet a lot of people who are spiritual. The north node in the twelfth house indicates that you have to let go sometimes. Immersing yourself in the world of fantasy and the divine helps you find balance in your life.
-Rebekah🍸📀❄️
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dayasusays · 5 months ago
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letting u know it took a month to write, edit and feel like a had to rewrite everything. i don’t usually write anything over 1k words, but here’s like 3.8k maybe… i hope you’ll enjoy it and it’s worth the time spend ! don’t forget abt feedback (comments especially) is very important <3
AND IT’S A REQ ACTUALLY i just forget to add it to the post :(
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warnings ! — SMUT and ANGST, fem!vigilante!reader, blood and wounds mention, unrequited love, soft maledom, fingering, praise
summary ? — jason is not your friend, buddy, boyfriend or something.
౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY ‼️
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of course it was an occupational hazard, jason thinks. of course he didn’t want to be around you so often, jason thinks. of course it annoyed him to see you too often after you’d patrolled together so many times, jason thinks. of course he didn’t like your smug, sweet face when you overtook him, jason thinks. of course his heart didn’t beat so hard every time he had to hold your hand when you almost fell off the roof, jason thinks. of course he finds you so annoying and smug that he wants to wipe that smile off your face, jason thinks.
he didn’t hate you, and you didn’t hate him. you’d say he's annoying and boring, but it’s fun to compete with him on things from who’s caught the most criminals to how many steps you get in a day. jason’d say you’re too smug, but seeing your face when you lose to him is very flattering. he’d say you know your stuff, and sometimes it’s nice to work with you. but only when you shut up.
he watches you at practice; he watches your every move and can’t help but sigh in admiration. todd watches you bite your lip every time you throw a punch and smiles contentedly. my god, one successful punch makes you feel so proud of yourself, and he catches himself thinking that he wants to push you against the wall and kiss you roughly just so you won’t be so cocky anymore. he wants to bite that lip, pull it back to put you in your place, and…
wait, what?
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“you’re too close,” you whisper as he presses closer to you to hide deeper in the shadows of the alley, “move away.” “stop it,” jason mutters back, grabbing your hands and holding them in place.
you’re so annoying. he doesn’t wanna be this close to you either, he doesn’t wanna feel your breath on his skin either, he doesn’t wanna think about how pretty you are even in the dark. and you make it all the more difficult by twitching, pressing your breasts against his chest.
he looks down at you while you carefully avert your gaze. you’ve been working together for months, but it’s so embarrassing; todd chuckles briefly when he notices you lower your head and thinks about how you’ve finally stopped being so annoying, even for a second. even if that second is in the dark alley where you’ve ambushed someone, and when he’s so close to you that everything turns upside down inside.
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“wanna go get something to eat after your patrol?” you look over your shoulder at jason, hearing an unintelligible mumble in response, “on the race. to the nearest diner,” you continue, already turning fully towards him with a tired smile on your lips as your stomach rumbles softly. todd has been acting weird lately. you’re not best friends and never have been, but you used to hang out a lot before; you’d eat together after patrols and often treat each other with the words that someone else should do it next time; he’d often let you leave early from patrols because you pretended to feel bad (he knew you were just tired); sometimes jason would even laugh at your jokes. but now you don’t even recognize him as… him. he became distant; the last time you ate together was a month ago. and you don’t care, of course. he’s a man with a personal life too, and you respected that. you two not even friends, you think.
“not tonight,” he mutters in a half tone, not even turning around to look at you, “maybe next week.” and that’s the fourth time he said it.
maybe you’re just worried about him as a coworker. he’s a vigilante just like you, and he’s not allowed to get his head in the clouds. but he doesn’t look like he’s distracted. he’s just avoiding talking to you.
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when jason crashes through the window of your house, you have two questions: how does he know your address when you’ve never told him and he's never walked you home, and why all the blood that splatters on the floor as soon as he falls. and both questions go away when you realize that all that blood is his.
you’ve seen jason get hurt before, and you’ve seen it more than once, but it’s nothing compared to fixing him up on your own. he used to always give you directions when he couldn’t do it himself, and he always spoke loud and clear so that you wouldn’t panic too much, but listened to his voice; your hands were shaking as you bandaged him up while he kept whispering to you that you were doing the right thing. but now his voice was so weak you wanted to cry.
when he woke up the next morning on your couch, which he had soaked in his blood, he had two questions: why the hell did he go to you, if it was the last option, given that you were hardly a doctor, and what the hell should he do if he was in such a vulnerable position. it hurts to lift his arm, let alone stand up. and todd thinks…
his gaze falls on you: you’re lying on the floor, next to the couch, among his bloody suit and piles of bandages, and you’re asleep. his face unconsciously softens as he realizes that you’ve probably been sitting here all night, worrying about him and bandaging him up.
jason was even a little embarrassed; breaking into your apartment and ruining your whole evening (whole night) by making you worry. it’s almost childish, he thinks. he should have just gotten to the bat cave, he thinks.
“you okay?” you pull yourself up, sitting down by the couch and rubbing your eyes sleepily, “i only had time yesterday to wash your wounds and bandage you up, not sure that-“ “‘m fine,” todd mumbles back, letting a soft gaze fall on you, “thanks.”
it’s not the first time he’s thanked you, but a good feeling spills inside, making you blur into a smile.
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it’s weird. seeing you twirling around jason while he tries to convince you that everything's okay feels weird.
“c’mon,” he mutters almost irritably, “i’m already fine. i just-…” “you’re staying,” you parry, frowning and folding your arms across your chest.
you hold out a bowl of hot soup to him and see the frown not leave his face. it’s almost funny — todd is sitting on the couch, frowning and looking up at you, just as stubborn.
it’s weird being together with you for so long, considering how distant he’s been for the last month, but when you plop down next to him and turn on some comedy on the tv, all thoughts evaporate. jason turns to look at you and sees you smile when you realize you’ve managed to change his mind.
he thinks that maybe you’re right; he should stay at least a couple of days.
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you find yourself on the floor next to the couch where jason is sitting, holding his bandaged side; he’s trying to tell you something, but you can barely hear anything as your eyes run over his figure and you don't know what to do. you distinctly feel panic rise to your throat and you can’t hear his voice anymore.
you get up on woozy legs, sit down next to him, and todd makes another attempt to get through to you; you blink as your brain tries to get you to do something.
jason reaches out a bloody palm, grabbing yours and pulling you closer.
“calm down,” todd says a little louder, “‘m not dying, it’s just-…” he swallows, catching his breath, “just opened wounds. stop the bleeding and bandage me up again.” his words begin to reach you and you reach for the bandages that are already soaked in his blood.
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jason sighs heavily as you sit down (practically fall) on the couch next to him and try to relax.
“you alright?” todd turns his head toward you and sees the tears of tension pooling in the corners of your eyes. he doesn’t quite know what he's doing as he pulls you onto his lap.
jason wants to think that he’s just comforting you; the way you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder and murmur softly makes him wince. of course he’s in pain, ready to howl about how uncomfortable you’ve gotten on top of him, but he realizes that he’s been dreaming of this for the past six months-dreaming of feeling you so close that he can feel your heartbeat. “that’s alright,” todd mumbles, awkwardly stroking your hair, “‘m alright. c’mon,” he doesn’t notice the way he himself bumps his nose against the base of your neck and leaves a brief kiss there with his dry lips. it’s an accident, you think on the first kiss. he tries to get comfortable, you think on the second kiss. it feels good, you think on the third kiss and give in, pulling away from his shoulder and exposing more of your neck.
you feel his strong hands on your hips and move you closer; his thumb caresses the skin of your thighs, making you press your breasts closer to his as jason leaves another light kiss on your neck.
todd feels his head spinning as he hears your first moan.
gosh, he feels like a pubescent teenager next to you, because the way you’re pressed against him, your heartbeat and breathing quickening, is too much for him.
your palms gripping his strong shoulders, it’s too much; your open lips that beg to be kissed, it’s too much; your quiet sighs that turn into moans when he bites the skin on your neck, it’s too much; the way you breathe out his name, it’s too much.
he looks up at you, blinking slowly and muttering a quiet “should i stop?” as his palms lightly squeeze your thighs. and you realize you can’t get a word out of your mouth when jason is looking at you so lovingly. it seems like just a second before his pupils become hearts.
“keep going,” you whisper, lifting your head and leaving a brief kiss on his lips, “please.”
todd swallows hard and reaches forward to kiss you again; kissing you slowly and sensually, as if he’s afraid you might run away. but you cling to him, deepening the kiss and causing jason to moan low into your lips.
one of his palms slides up your thigh to your waist, reaching under your t-shirt and helping you pull it off over your head; a surprised sigh escapes his lips as he looks you over. “so pretty,” whispers todd as he continues to cover your neck with kisses. he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and he hears your moan, which he intercepts with a kiss.
jason trails kisses down your chest, making sure to leave a kiss on the crevice between when you pull away and catch the uncomprehending look in your eyes.
“lemme just…” you stand up, pulling off your pajama pants, and almost immediately sit back down on his lap when you hear a quiet hiss, “did i hurt you? should i get up?” “a little closer,” todd points and wraps his palms around your waist. he helps you move closer, “yeah, there you go.”
he looks into your flushed face and tries to squeeze out a brief smile, but only succeeds in a ragged sigh, pulling you in for another kiss.
his fingers slip under your underwear, quickly finding your clit and pressing gently; you nuzzle your nose into jason’s shoulder again, wiggling your hips in search of more stimulation.
and now, as he inserts his fingers, you moan softly in his ear, biting the soft skin; it seems the way you clench around his fingers is unbearable, because it’s todd is ready to equate that feeling with a sense of satisfaction. he’s ready to moan at the way you feel against his fingers, because the way you're asking him to be faster is just unbearable.
todd looks up at you, and something inside is definitely turning, because you can't look at him like that. look with such desire, while continuing to whisper how well his fingers are stretching you; he just can’t, just fucking can’t, when you look this good. jason finds you so adorable in this moment, when you arch your eyebrows to the bridge of your nose and ask to be faster.
“you're teasing,” you mumble and flinch when he roughly presses his fingertips against the sensitive walls, “c’mon, please…” your hands reach for the waistband of his pants, but he intercepts your wrists faster. “lemme get you ready,” todd quietly parries, kissing your earlobe, “just a little more. m’kay?”
it takes you a couple minutes to start almost begging him to fuck you; the way he takes his time is torture. he just wants to do it right, the right way: with foreplay and tenderness, which doesn't seem to suit him at all. but the way jason soothes you with short kisses on your temple as he inserts the massive head of his cock says otherwise. he's so gentle that you practically melt as you relax into his lap.
“that’s it,” he murmurs, covering your eyes and digging his nails into the skin on your waist, “that’s it, baby.”
for a moment he thinks you’re lovers. he’s so gentle and unhurried, and you're so beautiful and desirable. he wishes you were lovers. that all his tenderness was justified by your beauty.
todd gently pushes deeper as his fingers play with your hair in a soothing gesture; you moan muffledly, squeezing his palm harder. “sorry,” jason responds and stops, “okay?” his voice sounds like he's genuinely worried, and it's almost awkward, “can i keep going?” you nod, snuggling closer to him and your breath hitches as he makes another thrust.
you shouldn’t enjoy it so much. enjoying his tenderness and good sex is wrong, unfair to jason, but in the moment it feels so good that you’re lost in him for the sensations as he’s lost in you for the feelings.
todd gives you half a minute to get used to it, and afterward he pushes in again and again, wrenching sobs from your lips. “so tight,” jason whispers, nestling into your shoulder and biting down lightly. his fingers find your clit again and make a few circular motions, making you clench around his cock, “that’s it. doin’ so well for me.”
his free palm gently squeezes your thigh as he quickens his pace a little; his lips find yours to first lube the corner of your lips before pulling you into a deep kiss. your thighs bump against his as you once again lift up and sit back down with a loud groan.
this is unbearable, jason thinks. holding you so close and fucking you so well, knowing you’re not his, unbearable.
but right now his head is all about you and how you feel around his cock, so he moans as he cums inside, feeling you cumming with him, relaxing in his arms.
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you shift from foot to foot as you hand jason the bowl of soup, and he looks up at you and sighs as he takes it. accepting for the first time in a couple days, because you hadn't even talked before.
awkwardness. realizing you slept with someone you have (almost) nothing for is awkward; realizing you can’t be in the same room with him for longer than a couple minutes is awkward; realizing you’re the one who let him do it is awkward; realizing how unfair it is to him is awkward.
“look,” todd starts as you turn around and walk off in the direction of your bedroom, “wait-“ “i’m tired,” you turn back to him over your shoulder and smile weakly, “i’ll talk to you tomorrow. okay?”
and you didn’t know (actually secretly hoped) that jason wouldn’t be in your apartment that morning.
and then you’ve been lying awake for two days since jason left your apartment. it was so fucking awkward that you want to turn back time and not have sex with him, because you don’t even know what to say to him or how to take it. you wanna think that it was just a mistake and you both gave in to the moment, but the way todd looked at you won’t get out of your head. he looked at you like you were his whole world and he looked so in love that it makes your stomach twist to realize what you’re doing to him.
sometimes you wish you weren’t vigilante. and this is that moment, because you can’t just run away from jason. disappear from his life so it’s not awkward, block his number and just… walk away because it’s not fair to him.
it’s not fair to him, you think. you shouldn’t have done that, you think, and you come to the conclusion that things will sort themselves out and go back to the way they were. at least you want to think that the way he looked at you was just a dream, and that all his tenderness was because he’s just… that way.
although deep down you realize you don't know a damn thing about jason todd, who you spent that night with and worked with for so long. maybe know a little bit about red hood, but not about jason todd.
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“wanna go out to eat?” jason tries to sound carefree, but he can clearly feel that tension and awkwardness between you after that night. and so he can’t help but catch himself thinking that he shouldn’t have done it. shouldn’t have comforted you, shouldn’t have given in to the moment, shouldn’t have kissed you like you were lovers, shouldn’t have fucked you so tenderly, shouldn’t have looked at you with all the damn love, shouldn’t have… your mumbling makes him distracted from his own thoughts.
“can't tonight,” you parry, turning to him and trying to force a smile, though somewhere in your stomach there’s an uncomfortable feeling of anxiety that you can’t control, “things. lots of things to do, actually.”
and todd just nods back, staring into the darkness of the alleys, into the burning streetlights, looking at the people passing by, looking anywhere but at you. he knows he can’t fix it, so he tries to at least just make contact so it's less awkward.
but you’re not stupid and he’s sure you know what that night meant. you know what his eyes and all that indescribable tenderness towards you meant and that's why you’re avoiding him now. avoiding him just like he avoided you. he didn’t say that stupid “i like you” thing (which would have made him feel like a lovesick teenager), but now jason thinks that’s where he should have started, even if he knows that this (possible) relationship wouldn’t end up being anything good as long as you’re both vigilantes.
it's a matter of time, jason thinks, and casts a glance at you. you nervously run your fingers over it.
and you’re starting to annoy him. really annoy him. you’ve been avoiding any conversation, avoiding any contact even after three weeks since the incident, and it’s so damn annoying.
you probably think that by doing this selfishly, you’re helping you both avoid this awkwardness, but what you don’t know is that jason can’t even sleep well without thinking about you and what he could have done to make things go back to the way they were before. todd thinks about how you should have just said no to him. said that damn “i don't feel anything for you” and he would have gotten over it and you would have worked together and he would have just… not feel like he did something wrong. you think about the fact that keeping out of his sight is helping, but he’s looking for you everywhere you can be.
he can’t even catch you at practice no matter when he comes in. on patrols, you keep such a distance that jason knows you won’t be heard, and yelling across the street to call for you is stupid and irrational.
so he gives you another week in the hope that things will go back to normal.
but when you keep avoiding him even after a week, all todd’s patience comes to naught. you act so childish, he has to catch you on patrol and make you talk to him.
“what the fuck is going on?” jason raises his voice a little, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. the movement is sharp, but he doesn’t squeeze your arm too hard, so as not to hurt you. you see that pure frustration in his gaze as he looks at you, “you’ve been avoiding me for a month!” he stares into your eyes as if he can read your thoughts, and you try to look away again, “don't you fucking dare! answer my question!” “just-…” you stop talking, averting your gaze. it’s so embarrassing, you wanna run away. “what 'just'? can you tell me what’s going on?” todd steps forward, “if you’re going to say no to me, then say it straight out, not run from me for a month!” he yanks your arm, forcing you to pay attention to him.
it wasn’t supposed to end like this. in your head, it would take you a week to get over this awkwardness and work with jason again like you used to, but then you see him and it’s all over again with anxiety and awkwardness mixed with fear because you never planned on falling in love with him. so you kept avoiding him and the feeling that it was wrong kept growing.
“we're still… working together,” jason mumbles in a semitone, “don't make this any more awkward. just say no to me.” “sorry, i didn’t mean to,” you shift from foot to foot as he releases your hand, “coworkers, red?” you hold out yours to him and smile awkwardly. trying to smooth the moment over.
jason looks at you, at your palm, at you, at your palm… and turns around, shoves his hands in his pockets. just walks away, leaving you standing there. walks away with a broken heart and regret in the balance.
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⁉️ m.lists | abt me | inbox 💌 (reqs are open)
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catmask · 2 months ago
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if it's not too intrusive, would you be comfortable talking about your experiences with OCD and maybe what made you seek a diagnosis?
idm it might help other people. i mean disclaimer not to use this as a diagnostic tool but if this sounds like u and u got a doc to talk to its worth bringing up
i think an important place to start and why i didnt think i had ocd is i am 1) autistic 2) a csa victim. this is pertinent because all of the things that actually lead me to get diagnosed with ocd i just kept dismissing as parts of those two other things. thinking 'surely this is all thats up there cant be anything else wrong with me' (<- thoughts of a clown)
the trouble with this is that coping skills id found for parts of both autism and csa trauma weren't working with things i later found out were related to ocd. so like, for example. frequently having intrusive thoughts about csa/sex trauma, i was told that if im experiencing a flashback the best thing i can do is try to ground myself and comfort myself. and yeah this is true, it would work if a flashback is all it was. but what it DIDNT account for is the guilt/dirty feeling id get after having them and the obsessive need to be 'clean' after.
and this trickled into hundreds of aspects of my life. 'cleaness' has always been such a vague unattainable concept unmedicated for ocd. if some things touch other things theyd become 'unclean'. if a person i felt uncomfortable around touched me or something it became 'unclean'. there were 'good' and 'bad' thoughts to have. i was constantly existing as if my presence was being monitored 24/7.
i could not fucking relax because every action i took, regardless of whether or not i was in private, i was constantly thinkin 'am i doing something wrong? am i hurting someone by doing this? am i breaking any rules?' and the 'bad thing' i was doing was like. i missed my boyfriend while he was at work. or i was going over former scenarios in which i was socially awkward in my head and wondering if i should be dead for doing that.
part of why i dismissed this as autism ofc too is yknow. being autistic i often missed social queues as a kid and was pretty brutally punished for it (physically by my parents, emotionally and socially by peers) so i was like yeah its Normal and Realsitic id have super intense fear about 'am i secretly doing something bad and dont realzie it because no one will fucking tell me until ive already done it and its too late and then i deserve all the punishment i get' but where my loved ones stepped in and were like Hey thats Not really normal. is where it waslike. other autistic people going 'brother i dont do that'
so yeah. it was like. kind of rule of elimination? the problems that wrrent getting solved by coping skills for the Other problems i Knew i had, i isolated those leftover things and my doctor was like 'this sounds like you have ocd. do you do this too' and listed out like 60 other things i didnt consider symptoms i just considered 'funny quirks' i had, like crying so hard id throw up if i couldnt get a blanket to lie perfectly flat during a picnic when i was 8 or thinking i was going to hell and my stuffed animals could feel pain so i would apologize to them iver and over while crying when they fell off the bed
you know. 'quirks'
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 4 months ago
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hihihi!!!! i loveee the way u write angst!!!! could i please request a reader taking a fatal blow for jason? like some self sacrifice where reader protects jay? ahhh i just imagine the desperation and him running himself ragged to save reader before it ends with comfort!! thanks soso much! i hope u have a great week🩷
Set In Place
Hi, nonnie! Thank you, hope you enjoy! ~1.7k words
Slight miscommunication, but it's in the way they don't know how to talk to each other about feelings.
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You weren't always a vigilante. You never planned on it, never wanted it. But when Jason Todd died you couldn't sit still, couldn't do nothing while the monsters that caused you to lose your best friend, your boyfriend, your first love, ran rampant.
You trained and trained until you were a shell of yourself. Until you and Bruce were both on a warpath that would only end with two more graves.
That was, until Tim came into your lives. Things got better, not much, but better. You learned to smile again, learned to soften your edges when you talked to the growing number of vigilantes patrolling Gotham's streets.
It scared you, sometimes, seeing kids no older than him fly around in the colors he died in. So you worked harder, got better, swore with everything you were and wouldn't be again that there will never be another dead Robin.
And then he came back. Jason– Red Hood, he called himself. It sends your world into a tailspin. You watch him become Gotham's most feared crime lord, you watch him leave all of that behind to become a hero. You watch as he slowly finds his place alongside his family.
You're just not exactly sure of what his place with you is. You patrol with him, you work with him. It's an awkward, unpracticed partnership, and you're sure he feels the same. You've told Bruce you don't want to work with Jason time and time again.
It's not that you don't miss him, don't feel envy at how easily he seemed to fall back into a routine with everyone else, it's just hard.
Hard when you catch him staring.
You know you must be unrecognizable to him, no longer the younger, civilian version of you. Hardened by the horrors of Gotham, scarred and calloused hands where skin used to be soft.
Bruce apparently didn't care about your complaints, because you find yourself on patrol with Red Hood more often than not. It's the same tonight, the two of you paired up to stake out some warehouse expecting a gun shipment for Falcone.
You can't help but watch him from the corner of your eye, he's different too, now. Bigger, sturdier, and willing to kill. A part of you wishes you had the courage to tell him that it doesn't make you hate him. That you miss him, and that nothing can change that part of your heart that's always been his.
You're tugged from your own thoughts when you see the familiar glint of a sniper rifle across the street. Your heart skips a beat and you're moving before you've even really connected that there's a gun.
You slam into Jason, a shot is fired. Pain blooms in your side as you both hit the ground.
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Everything was different when Jason came back. It took a long time to settle, to try to find himself, to try to find his place in a family he doesn't know, a Gotham that's not quite what he remembers.
But he adapted, he carved out a place for himself that's undeniably his. He's really only left with one uncertainty, one place he doesn't know how to fit into.
You. His best friend, his childhood sweetheart, his first love. You're different now, but he is too, and he wants that to be okay.
Jason just doesn't know how to get to okay. He catches you watching him, he wonders what you see now. If you recognize the boy he used to be in what he is now. He can't help but watch you too. You're strong, brave, selfless and so, so beautiful. He's amazed about how much you've accomplished, how many lives you saved.
It's why he keeps telling Bruce to put him on patrol with you. It's worth the looks he gets if it means a chance to talk to you. He's currently trying to figure out the best way to get your attention during this boring stakeout. Should he ask what you've been up to? No, too general. If you're liking the weather? Ha, no. It's Gotham, that's stupid. The weather is bad.
If you have a partner? Oh, he definitely doesn't want to know that answer right now. He'd very much just like to be able to talk to you first.
Did you miss him as much as he missed you? Do you still love him like he still loves you?
He opens his mouth to speak, not having a plan but anything is better than silence, when you slam into him, crashing you both to the ground. The air leaves his lungs when he makes contact with the concrete, instinctively wrapping an arm around your waist and cradling your head to cushion the fall.
"Hey, what–" He starts, voice failing when wetness starts to seep into his gloves. You're bleeding. You're bleeding. You're shot. You're hurt because you saved him.
He's only able to react on the years of skill and training ingrained into his bones. Get you off of him and on the ground. Remove armor. Pressure on the wound. Where's the shooter? His eyes dart, he doesn't see anyone. Doesn't see who did this to you.
"Oracle," he chokes out "They're hurt, gun shot. It's bad. I need- we need an evac." He's tugging off his jacket, more material to slow the blood flow, something to keep you warm.
"Hey," You're reaching up to touch his arm with shaky hands, you sound relieved, "You're okay."
He tears up behind his helmet. It's not fair, not right that you're trying to comfort him when you're bleeding out on some forsaken Gotham rooftop. He vaguely hears the voices coming through the comlink, that help is coming, that he needs to tell them what's going on.
But, he can't respond to them, too focused on you, the way you seem to be getting weaker with each passing second. He's panicking, his breathing is shallow and fast as he tries to keep you alive.
"Why did you do that? Why did you do that?" He asks, trying to keep it together, but it's impossible when all he wants to do is scream and cry and hunt down whoever shot you.
You just offer a frail smile. "Glad you're safe, Jason," You murmur, words getting more slurred and quiet with each passing moment. He checks your pulse. It's getting too slow.
"Stay awake, stay with me," He begs, words fraying as he sobs your name, "please."
Something touches his shoulder, he has his gun pulled and pointed before he bothers to see who it is, face curled into a snarl behind his helmet.
"Woah there, Jason." Nightwing. His hands are raised, "we're going to help them, okay?"
Batman sweeps past him, crouching down at your side to pick you up. Jason launches forward, panicked and unable to think straight as he barks, "Don't touch them!"
Nightwing hauls him back as Batman carries them, his person, to the plane. "No, no, no, please. I need to be there. I need to. It's my fault!"
"I know, I know, it's not your fault, we're going too. C'mon." Nightwing soothes, letting go of him. Jason's on Batman's heels immediately, gaze locked on you, how your eyes keep sliding shut.
"The shooter–" He starts, anger building behind the guilt and panic.
"Spoiler and Robin have it handled." Batman tells him. Jason nods weakly and when Batman carefully sets you down in the plane, he takes your hand. Nightwing starts working over your wound, you barely make a sound in reaction to the pain.
"Stay awake. Don't go." He murmurs, begging, as he squeezes your fingers. He nearly sobs again when you offer him a feeble one in return.
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Everything hurts. Which makes sense, you did get shot. It doesn't really bother you, at least not right now, not when Jason's holding your hand, his fingers resting over the steady beat of your pulse on your wrist.
You're not exactly sure how long you were passed out, but it was long enough that they got you into the medbay in the Batcave, stitched you up, and got you into a bed. Long enough that Jason's fallen asleep in the chair next to your bed, his head resting on top of the sheets by your hip.
You only hesitate for a second before reaching over to brush his hair back with your free hand. He's pretty when he's sleeping, but then again he's always pretty.
His eyes snap open and you draw your hand back. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up, Jason."
He sits up quickly, eyes darting over you, "Don't be. Are you okay? How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?" He hasn't let go of your hand.
"I'm okay." You promise, because you are. He didn't get hurt. He's here, and that makes everything okay.
He exhales shakily, studying you, "You shouldn't have done that."
You shrug, "Maybe, but you would have done the same thing." You know it's the truth, even if what's between you isn't the same, he's good. Always so good.
He frowns and runs his thumb over your knuckles, lost in thought, he can’t find the words to refute you, to make you understand what you did was wrong. "Do you– can I get you anything?"
You smile at him, teasing, trying to lighten the look on his face, "What? You gonna be my personal maid till I can get outta bed?"
You're surprised at how earnestly he nods, "Yeah, of course. Whatever you need, just let me know."
You blink at him and take a risk, "Maybe you could keep me company for a while? Not much to do in medbay," You ask tentatively, unable to ignore a real chance at being something– anything– with him.
Warmth blooms in your chest at the way he smiles at your question. It surprises you again, how thrilled your question seems to make him.
If you only knew what he was thinking now, how much he's been trying to find this moment that brings you two back into each other's lives, and the guilt he feels that it took you getting hurt to find it. "I'd like that," he tells you.
You squeeze his hand, and he looks down, as if he forgot he was even holding it. It feels right, familiar, something that used to be found again.
"I'd like that too." You say softly. It makes the two of you grin like two idiots in love.
You'll both figure out you are, eventually, but in this tender moment, it's a sweet solace to have found a place next to each other again.
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Text
The Thin Line | Bucky Barnes
Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
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Summary: Of one thing you were certain—Bucky Barnes hated you, and you hated him. How could you not, considering the super soldier had made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell after you had been assigned to protect him? But there was someone after Bucky from his past, and now he was forced to work alongside you to stop them. And in the process, you would find out just how thin that line was between love and hate.
A/N: This one comes from this request that I received a while back! I have been criminally slow in responding and I sincerely apologize. Hopefully this makes up for it a little bit 🤍
Warnings: blood and violence (all canon for the MCU), someone takes a severe beating (may or may not be reader), ANGST, fluff scattered here and there, fatws!Bucky, banter, mature themes and allusions, grumpy!Bucky
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Hate. There was perhaps no other word as final and lasting as hate. 
People had always said that there was a thin line between love and hate, that the two emotions were so similar it was often hard to tell them apart. But not to you. You knew the line between them distinctly. 
You had seen people fall out of love as easily as the winking out of a candle, and in the same manner you’d watched a person’s hate burn on even past the grave. You couldn’t understand how someone could mix up the two emotions, not when love had always seemed so fleeting and hate so persistent. 
What you didn’t know just yet was that the passion involved in both love and hate often danced upon that line you were so sure was distinct to you. You didn’t know that love, real love was barely an emotion at all. And you certainly didn’t know that when one person truly loved another, it was anything but fleeting. 
It was the one thing that lasted longer than hate. 
But it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know. After all, how could you? You’d never known real love.
At least, not yet.
|||
The sky seemed to sparkle as the rare sunshine blasted through the clouds and beamed down upon the city of Brooklyn. 
But in this moment, you couldn’t fully appreciate its glory. No, not when this happened to be the day you were moving box after box of your belongings into your new apartment. The dazzling sun dared to make you collapse under its rays as you hauled out the last box of your stuff from your car. Sweat slipped down your spine as you managed to slam the trunk shut while balancing the box precariously on one hand. With a huff, you gripped the last box tightly and swiveled towards your apartment complex for the last time. 
By the time you’d managed to get into the lobby and over to the elevator, you were practically dreaming of being able to drop down this last box into your new apartment and drop dead on your new couch. You could almost taste the beer you’d picked up on your way into the city and-
“You have got to be kidding me!” You exclaimed, dread coursing through your frame as you read the sign taped onto the elevator doors. 
Out of Service.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” The concierge called, leaning on his desk and offering you an uncaring smile, “Stupid thing’s been breaking down all month.”
And you haven’t fixed it yet?
The angry words stayed in your head as you decided with a long sigh that the argument wasn’t worth it. 
“That’s fine,” You gritted out, adjusting your hold on the box, “I’ll just take the stairs.”
“Good luck,” The concierge wished, his tone bored. 
Not even an offer to help you? The urge to yell at the worker was growing by the second, but you were determined to start this mission out right. Gritting your teeth, you walked over to the stairs and started climbing them without giving yourself time to hesitate. This was going to be a long journey up, and you’d rather get it over with as fast as possible. 
By the time you reached your floor, your arms were trembling with effort and your legs were moments from giving out. You took the last step up the stairs onto your floor, letting out a sigh of relief as you paused only for a moment. Just a few more steps and you’d be at your door. 
You took half of a step when someone slammed right into you. With the box obstructing your view, you couldn’t see the person coming and they clearly hadn’t seen you. You let out a yelp as you stumbled back towards the stairs behind you. In sudden panic to not tumble down them, you released the box you were holding to free your hands. Just as you were grappling for a railing or something to keep you from falling, a gloved hand gripped your arm and yanked you forward, away from the stairs. 
You stumbled right back into the person who had just collided with you seconds prior. As you fell into their hard chest, you were bewildered since you were sure you had dropped the box right…
As you glanced up, you saw the box you had released resting easily on one of the stranger’s hands. His other was still holding your arm, and it was then that you realized that his hand was ice cold. Even with the glove on. With furrowed brows, you glanced up towards the stranger.
“Thank-” Your words died abruptly as your eyes met steel blue ones burning down at you. His hair was shorter and his face was drawn into a look of slight annoyance, but it was him. Your mission had run into you before you could even move into your apartment, “You.”
James Buchanan Barnes released your arm, his stubbled jaw clenched in the way you figured it often was. You would be lying if you said it was only your mission that made your thinking halt so swiftly, because none of his pictures did Bucky’s roguish beauty justice. He was ruggedly, painfully, hopelessly handsome, and you scrambled to collect your mind.
“Don’t mention it,” Came Bucky’s low reply. His voice shot straight through you, setting your hairs on end and stirring something in your chest. With easy strength that now made sense, Bucky held onto your box with one hand, “Moving in today?”
It took every ounce of your strength not to giggle. His words were strained and almost…awkward. You knew he didn’t talk much anymore, but it was hopelessly adorable how he was trying to make small talk. With a smile you kept restrained, you nodded.
“In that unit right there, actually,” You replied, walking over to your door and turning back towards the super soldier, “Thanks for saving my box.”
“I think I saved more than that,” Bucky quipped, his tone smooth and rough all at once. You raised an eyebrow at the man.
His arrogant charm was still intact, that’s for sure.
“Well thanks for that too,” You responded, pulling your keys from your pocket and unlocking your door. As you shouldered it open, you held out your hands to take the box back.
You could tell he wanted to carry the box in for you, a remnant of the 40’s manners that were ingrained deep within him. You kept your hands out for the box, to which Bucky gave in swiftly. You breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he did. Had he brought it in for you, he would have seen the surveillance equipment and weapons scattered about the unpacked apartment. 
“Well, I’m next door if you need anything.” Bucky stepped back once you had the box in your hands, half of your body inside your open door. You smiled at him, internally cheering that this mission had already begun on such a great foot. 
“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” You announced, your trained eyes taking in the bags underneath his eyes and the tense hold of his frame, “I’m Y/N.”
He hesitated only for a moment, “Bucky.”
And just like that, he had turned on his heel and walked away towards the stairs. You watched him go for a second, intrigue filtering into your gaze. He was distant and detached like you had expected, and the air of grumpiness he bore was unmistakable. But there was a softness to him that you couldn’t deny. Only a touch, but it was there.
Before he could see you watching him, you fully entered your apartment and made sure the door shut behind you. Setting the box down with a huff, you settled your hands onto your hips and surveyed the controlled chaos before you. A few handguns lay strewn around, and your secured technology was piled atop the couch you so desperately wanted to drop onto. 
But you couldn’t sleep, not just yet. There was work to be done.
Out of your entire CIA division, you were the operative that Sam Wilson had tasked with keeping an eye on his lone wolf of a friend. Even though Sam knew he could take care of himself, he had asked you to keep tabs on Bucky to ensure he was safe, especially since the Winter Soldier had racked up a list of enemies just dying to exact revenge now that the world was back to semi-normal. 
But this wasn’t the Winter Soldier. This was Bucky Barnes, and even though you knew he could handle his own, you were not going to take this mission lightly. You would look out for him, make sure he didn’t drop off the grid like he loved to do, make sure no rogue enemies took him down.
You would protect him, even though you knew Bucky would kill you and Sam if he found out. 
So, you would just have to keep him from finding out.
|||
It had been almost two months since you moved in, and the most you had talked with Bucky since your first encounter was in passing on the stairs and the occasional elevator ride. 
Of course, you had formatted your daily routine to oppose his perfectly, ensuring you would run into him as many times as passable for coincidence in a day. Even with that, though, all you managed to get out of Barnes was a nod or the occasional hello. He truly was a lone wolf—quiet, grumpy as hell, and, well, alone.
Even with his avoidance of you and all other humans in general, you managed to survey him nearly every day. It had been quiet. No intruders, no threats, no disappearances. Physically, he was perfectly safe. Mentally? 
You shook your head at the thought. Bucky needed a life. And social interaction. Sam called you often, wondering if he was still alive considering how much Bucky dodged his texts. It was almost like he wanted to be separated. Like he was punishing himself for something. 
That last thought rang through your mind as you started cleaning the dishes you had acquired from your dinner. As the warm, sudsy water ran across your fingers and over the pot you were washing, your brows were furrowed in concentration. If Bucky really was keeping his distance on purpose, maybe protecting him physically wouldn’t be the object of this mission. 
But you weren’t trained for that. You were trained for gun fights and strategy and high-level, covert operations. You were trained to infiltrate criminal holdings and take down dangerous individuals. You were trained to attack, protect, defend, strategize. 
That’s why you noticed that Bucky Barnes’ door didn’t open precisely at the same time that it had every night for two months. 
You paused in your dish-washing, setting down the pot into the sink and turning off the faucet. Letting silence cloak your apartment, you listened closely for the sound of his footsteps or the shutting of his door. 
Nothing. 
He could be running late, but Bucky never ran late. He never-
There was the smallest shuffle of a foot against your wooden floor.
You shot your hand out and grabbed the knife you had just washed, but you were a moment too slow. Just as your hand closed around the handle and you began to turn around, your back was shoved into your fridge and the knife ripped out of your hand. 
Before you could even blink, Bucky Barnes had you pinned against the fridge with his metal hand around your throat. 
Your pulse ratcheted up painfully, your eyes wide as you gripped onto his metal wrist. His grip wasn’t constricting your airway, but was applying enough pressure to remind you that your life was currently in his grasp. Bucky was close to you, so close that you could see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes as well as the fury that crossed through them.
“Who the hell are you?” His voice sent a shiver down your spine. It was dark and rough and even, and it should not have had the effect on you that it did. 
His body heat poured into you with how close he was to you, and the cold metal of his hand was a sharp contrast. Breathing was difficult, and not entirely because of his hand on your throat. There was something in the air between you, something thick and palpable. You swallowed, keeping your breathing as even as you could.
“Your neighbor,” You responded, not entirely having to fake the tremble in your tone.
“Bullshit,” Bucky growled, his grip on your throat tightening the slightest bit, “You’ve been tailing me for weeks. Who do you work for?”
“Just because our schedules clash doesn’t mean-”
“If one more lie comes out of your pretty little mouth, I’ll make sure whoever hired you is the only one who knows your death wasn’t an accident.” Bucky was unflinching, cold hard rage burning across his features. Beneath it, though, you could see fear. So much fear. It made your heart nearly crumble. 
He was scared you were here to hurt him.
“I’m with the CIA,” you finally whispered, your tone no longer shaking despite his outright threat. For some reason, you knew he would not hurt you, “I’m here to watch out for you, make sure you’re safe.”
Bucky’s grip on your throat lessened the slightest bit, and his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of why the CIA would surveil him. Not giving him a chance to speak, you continued, “And I’m pretty sure the person who hired me would come here and beat your ass himself if you killed me.”
You paused, nodded your head to the side slightly and said more to yourself than him, “Well, he’d try.”
“Who hired you?” Bucky repeated, his tone less harsh than before, but just as dark.
You took a beat to consider your options, but conceded defeat with a sigh, “Sam Wilson.”
Being so close to him, you could see every emotion that flashed through his face. As you watched him work through anger to frustration to annoyance, his grip on your throat loosened until his hand was just resting against your neck. 
“Unbelievable,” Bucky grumbled, pulling his hand off of your neck and stepping back in one swift motion. 
You let out a full breath, bringing a hand up to touch your throat where his metal hand had just been. You felt suddenly cold without his body heat by you, but it was a cold that you welcomed. If this was how he was going to thank you for trying to help him then you couldn’t wait to be away from him.
You looked over to see Bucky a few strides away, his phone pressed to his ear and his hand on his hip.  Before you could speak to him, whoever he was calling must have picked up, but you didn’t have to guess at who it was.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bucky suddenly exploded, his jaw tight. Whatever Sam said didn’t appease him because his exasperation only intensified.
“You Sharon Carter’ed me!” Bucky gritted out, “Steve was clueless so he didn’t notice until she was on his doorstep with a gun, but did you really think I wouldn’t?”
“Sharon Carter’ed?” You mumbled, confused. Shaking your head, you took a step closer to Bucky, “Listen, if you’ll just give me a minute to explain,”
Bucky stopped you, pointing in your direction, “No, you don’t get to talk here.”
Shock crashed over you as he continued to argue with Sam over the phone. Indignation flared within your chest and you sputtered for a moment, trying to comprehend the fact that he had just shushed you in your own apartment. 
“Nuh uh,” You interrupted, anger flaring hot in your veins as you stormed over to Bucky, “This is my apartment and you do not get to waltz in here, choke me out, then tell me I can’t speak.”
“You choked her out?” Sam shouted on the other side of the phone, so loud even you could hear it. Bucky’s eyes were hard as he dropped the phone to his side and took a step closer to you. He was menacing when he wanted to be, and right now, towering over you with a quiet sort of anger, he was. If only you scared easily.
“Oh really?” He nearly whispered, his anger flooding down at you. You could see him getting more frustrated the longer you stared him down right back, your chin tilted up and your gaze as leveled with his as it could be considering his height and stature, “You’ve been spying on me for weeks and now I’m the one invading your space?”
“I wasn’t spying on you, I was looking out for you. If you haven’t noticed, your friend is a little more than worried about you!” You fired back. You heard Sam saying something on the phone, but it was still down by Bucky’s side. 
The two of you were staring each other down, that same thick tension in the air. Not thinking about the consequences, you reached down and snatched the phone from Bucky’s grasp and turned it on speaker. 
Bucky looked at you in pure shock, as if he couldn’t believe you’d actually just taken the phone from him.
“You’re on speaker now, Sam,” You informed. 
“Finally,” Sam sighed over the phone, his tone surprisingly even and patient, “Buck, you gotta understand where I’m coming from. You don’t answer anyone’s texts, you don’t check in, and I know for a fact you’ve had one or two unwelcome visitors at your door.”
“I can handle myself, Sam,” Bucky gritted out. 
“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to! I know that it’s hard with Steve gone, so-”
“No, you don’t know.” Bucky’s voice was final, and Sam paused, not seeming to fight with his statement. Bucky stared down at the floor, his arms crossed over his chest. 
You couldn’t help but stare at him. There was a sadness in those words, one that nearly shattered your heart. Your anger towards the super soldier softened the slightest bit.
“You’re right, I don’t,” Sam conceded, “But I’m trying to reach out here. We don’t have many people left, man. I don’t want to lose another friend.”
That seemed to soften the edge of Bucky’s frustration so deeply that even the frown set into his face disappeared. In its place was resignation. 
“I’m not here to intrude on your life,” You chimed in, making Bucky glance up to you, “I’m just here to make sure you’re safe.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bucky grumbled. 
“I’m not your babysitter,” You assured, “And trust me, after tonight I want to spend as little time around you as you do around me. So, let’s make a deal. I keep to myself and you don’t break into my place and try to kill me in my sleep.”
Bucky hesitated, his eyes surveying you closely. On the phone between you, Sam piped up, “And you have to answer my texts.”
Bucky groaned, running a hand through his short, dark hair before shaking his head. After what seemed like an eternity, he sighed in defeat, and you couldn’t stop the small smile of victory that tugged on your lips.
“Fine,” He gave in, his eyes turning up to lock with yours, “But if I see you tailing me one more time, deal’s off.”
“No promises,” You responded boldly, your heart pounding strangely as Bucky took a menacing step closer to you.
“Then no promises about breaking in,” He shot back. The two of you glared intensely at each other until a voice called out from the phone.
“Alright you two, knock it off,” Sam ordered, sounding so incredibly tired, “Now can I please go? You caught me right in the middle of my beauty sleep.”
You chuckled softly, a smile ghosting your lips again, “Bye Sam,”
You ended the call and handed the phone back to Bucky, who you found already staring at you. You couldn’t place the look in his gaze, but it seemed akin to disdain, so your smile dropped. 
“How did you even get into my apartment?” You asked. Bucky kept his arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps bulge against his long-sleeve Henley.
“You tell me, you’re CIA,” He shrugged, looking too smug, “Or should I call Sam back and tell him he sent a novice to babysit me?”
“Stay out of trouble, Barnes,” Was all you said back, your jaw held tight.
“Have fun with your dishes,” Bucky dryly responded, brushing past you without another word towards your door. Frustration bubbled up within your gut, and it took every ounce of your patience to not turn and yell right back at him. So, taking a deep breath, you turned and watched him open your apartment door.
He paused and glanced back over at you before he was fully out, “And stay out of my way. I’m doing this for Sam, not because I need your help.”
Then he slammed your door and left. 
Taking all of your energy not to scream, you let out another sigh and put a hand to your forehead. Gone was the distant, polite neighbor. You had failed epically, but you couldn't from here on out. 
Bucky Barnes was going to make your life hell, and you already dreaded every second to come.
|||
Over the next month, your nods and hello’s in passing turned into grunts and, if you were lucky enough, the occasional insult you could fire back at.
In short, you loathed Barnes. 
Looking back, you couldn’t fathom how his handsome features had drawn you in when you first met. Sure, he was still stupidly attractive, but now it was more frustrating than it was something to fawn over. 
You still did your job as best you could, but you counted the days until Sam could come up to New York and take over the mission for you.
Currently, you were mulling over ways to subtly infuriate Barnes more than you already did as you walked back to your apartment complex from your run. You tried to get out and run at a park nearby a few times a week, but considering how much you hated running, you’d missed a few weeks in the process. 
Today, though, you just had to go. You needed to clear your head after you bumped into Barnes this morning and he informed you that somehow, the potted plant hanging on your balcony “accidentally” ended up on the ground five stories down. 
As you walked back into the cool lobby of your apartment building, you glanced up at the stairs that sat right beside the elevator. You paused for just a moment, considering if you should be healthy and take the stairs. That moment was swifter than you’d like to admit as you turned towards the elevator only to find the doors closing. 
Against the protest of your legs sore from your run, you jogged over to the elevator, “Hey, hold the doors!”
As you approached, you saw a hand shoot through and stop the doors from closing just in time. As they opened back up, you sighed in relief, an easy smile on your features, “Thanks. I-”
As you stepped into the elevator, your words died. As you and the person who had held the elevator for you locked eyes, the both of you groaned. 
“You have got to be kidding me,” You grumbled at the same time as Bucky Barnes.
The elevator doors shut, closing you into one of your worst nightmares—the two of you stuck together in a confined space. The air was heavy and the tension high, an uneasy silence settling in the air. Your chest tightened slightly and your body tensed up, almost as if you were waiting for something to happen. Deciding to be civil, you looked over at Bucky and offered him a cordial smile.
“Had a good day so far?” You asked, your voice strained. 
Bucky just shook his head, “If you try to make small talk right now, I will throw you into the elevator shaft.”
Your smile dropped instantly, replaced by a grimace, “You are so violent, you should really talk to your therapist about all that pent up anger.”
“I hate you,” Bucky grumbled. 
“Well that makes two of us.”
Almost as if on cue, the elevator comes to a grinding halt. The stop is so sudden that it jolts the box, making you gasp and grab onto the railing along the wall opposite Bucky. 
“What the hell?” Bucky grits out, walking up and pushing the button to your floor repeatedly. When that doesn’t work, he pushes the emergency button only to have no response. That button must have been broken too.
Realizing suddenly your predicament, you brought a hand to the bridge of your nose, “This is not happening.”
Of all the times for the stupid elevator to break down, it chose now? When you were stuck inside with the one person in the world who hated you the most?
“Hello?” Bucky called out, banging on the side of the elevator. 
“Yeah, ‘cause that’s gonna fix it,” You criticized, shaking your head at Bucky. 
“Well what else are we supposed to do? The damn help button won’t work,” He fired back.
“I know you were born almost a century ago, but we have these things called cell phones and they do this magical thing where we can call for help.” You pulled out your phone and showed him the emergency call screen for show. Shaking his head, Bucky grumbled something about “insufferable” under his breath as you called for help.
While you were on the phone with emergency services, you explained your situation only to be told the fire department was caught up and wouldn’t be able to help for another hour. 
“An hour?!” You exclaimed, already planning how you were going to beat the hell out of the management team for not fixing the stupid elevator. 
“I’m sorry, that’s the best we can do,” The emergency operator apologized. Suddenly feeling guilty for you outburst on the poor worker just doing their job, you sighed. 
“No, don’t be. It’s not your fault. Thanks for the help,” You amended, your tone softer this time. After hanging up, you slipped the phone into your pocket. 
“Well, looks like we’re stuck here for a while so get-,” Your words halted abruptly when you looked up and saw Bucky opening the doors of the elevator by force, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting out of here,” He gritted back, shoving open the doors easily. You almost laughed when he was met with a solid brick wall. With a smug smile, you tilted your head at the soldier.
“You were saying?” You sweetly taunted. He shot you a death glare as he let go of the elevator doors, allowing them to shut back. 
“It’s gotta be an easy fix,” Bucky mumbled to himself, walking back to the wall opposite you and beginning to bang on the side of the elevator. 
You gasped as the elevator box began to tremble under his hits and you lurched forward, grabbing his bicep to stop his assault, “Stop! You’re gonna send us plummeting straight to the basement.”
“Well then maybe I’ll get lucky,” He grunted, shaking off your hold and going to hit it again. This time, real fear hit you. 
“If we drop, you’d make it unscathed,” You began, and Bucky didn’t even look at you. 
“Exactly, so what’s the-”
“I wouldn’t.” Your words are softer than even you’d expected, but it managed to halt Bucky’s assault on the side of the elevator. He glanced back at you, and in that moment you understood exactly what hung in the air unspoken. He was a super soldier, you were a normal human. 
He couldn’t respond before the elevator gave a sick jolt.
You gasped, your knees nearly buckling from the fall. Before either of you could react, the elevator was careening down in a free-fall. You barely had time to scream when Bucky’s strong arm was around your waist and tugging you close, pressing you between the elevator wall and his body. He held you in a death grip, locking you against him and effectively saving your life.
Luckily, just as quickly as the fall had started, it stopped with a brain-shaking halt. 
The silence that followed was thick, and you didn’t realize you were gripping Bucky’s shoulders until your mind finally was convinced you weren’t going to fall to your death. Coming to your senses, you felt your body pressed tightly up against Bucky’s and looked up to see him staring down at you, his brows drawn together and the hate in his eyes missing. 
It was then that you realized you could no longer ignore the tension that was present whenever he was near you, because in this position it was overwhelming. 
The moment was over as soon as it had begun. You were shoving him off almost as soon as he was letting you go. Breathless, you shoved Bucky’s shoulder, “What the hell, Barnes? You could have gotten us killed!”
“Then you would have failed your stupid mission,” Bucky pointed out, only making you angrier. 
“You are infuriating,” You seethed, holding your hands out in exasperation, “Are you trying to get me to quit? Are you that insistent on shoving everyone else away?”
Bucky shook his head, his jaw held tight and his blue eyes on fire. He was staying silent, shutting down again like he often did. That only made you angrier, but a part of you yearned to get closer, to prove to him that you weren’t going to leave him.
Once again, as if on cue, the elevator began to move again with a jolt. You let out a breath of relief, your anger turning into exhaustion. Just as the elevator stopped, this time at your floor, you got off first, Bucky close behind.
“Fine, give me the cold shoulder,” You called out to him as you approached your door beside his. You fished out your keys and stopped, looking over at him as he ignored you and worked to open his door, “Do what you have to, but I’m not leaving you.”
Bucky froze, turning to look at you. Something in his gaze stirred your heart, but you kept your gaze strong and unflinching, “I’m seeing this mission through, whether you like it or not.”
Then you opened your door and went inside, leaving Barnes out in the hallway, still frozen with his keys in his door. 
|||
That night, you couldn’t get to sleep. 
You tried everything—sleeping supplements, reading, counting sheep. Nothing worked. Your mind refused to settle down, running over your elevator encounter with Bucky over and over again. The way he seemed to stall when you said you weren’t leaving him, the way he had grabbed you the instant the elevator dropped, the way you could still feel the burn of his arm around your waist. 
The way being held by him had felt so infuriatingly right. 
You covered your face with your pillow, willing yourself to forget what you just couldn’t seem to. You didn’t have to try long when the sound of something scraping on glass caught your attention. Slowly, you pulled the pillow off of your face and listened closely, the silence of your apartment settling over you like a blanket. 
Maybe you had dreamt the noise. Maybe Bucky really was getting to you head and it was making you cr-
There it was again.
You sat up this time, your brows furrowed as you swiftly got out of bed. With silent feet, you crept to your window and pulled down one blind just enough for you to peer out into the dark night illuminated only by the haze of streetlights below. 
Nothing. Nothing, nothing…there. 
In the murky night, your strained eyes caught a glimpse of a rope hanging down off to the left of your window. Towards Bucky’s apartment. Looking a bit harder, you saw another, and then another. Then, now that you were listening, you began to hear the soft thuds of shoes against brick and iron and glass.
Someone was going to break through his window.
Suddenly vaulted into action, you jogged out of your room, grabbing the gun you kept on your nightstand as you did. You didn’t stop to consider the fact that you were only in a large t-shirt with no pants on. The only thing you could think about was Bucky sleeping next door while those intruders busted into his windows. In a matter of seconds, you were out into the hallway and pounding on Bucky’s door. 
“Barnes, let me in,” You hissed, your voice low so as not to wake the neighbors. When there was no response, you pounded your fist against the door again. The sound mocked the repetitive thumping of your heart within your chest, its beats not only for the fight to come or the sudden burst of energy. 
“Come on!” You pressed, in the middle of another round of knocking when the door flew open. On the other side, a very pissed and very shirtless Bucky stood, his muscular arm barring the doorway.
“This better be good,” Bucky grumbled, his voice closer to a low growl. 
If this were any other time, you would have taken a moment to appreciate the sculpted plane of his body or even to notice the blanket strewn on the hardfloor indicating he didn’t sleep in a bed. You didn’t worry about any of that, though. Instead, you shoved past Bucky as soon as that door was opened, your gun raised.
“What the hell are you-”
Bucky was cut off by the shattering of his window.
You had four rounds fired off before the first two intruders could set their feet in the apartment. The blasts were muffled by the sound suppressor on your gun, but they found their targets with no less force or deadly precision. 
“Shit,” Bucky cursed, the sound of his dog tags clinking as he sprinted over to the window just as the third and fourth intruders touched down. This time, these two made it down, the bullets lodging in the wall or their vests. 
Then Bucky was on them, his metal arm catching one by the throat while he kicked the absolute shit out of the other, sending the intruder flying into the wall. The plaster cracked behind him and you shoved your gun into your waistband, no longer able to fire without risking hitting Bucky. 
As Bucky incapacitated the intruder he had by the throat, you made sure the one he kicked stayed down. As the attacker staggered to his feet and rushed you, you dodged his clumsy hits easily and landed a crushing uppercut to the underside of his jaw. The sound of his teeth snapping together was sickening, but you were unfazed. 
As the large attacker stumbled back, you rushed him and slid to the ground. You wrapped your legs around one of his and tugged, bringing the large invader crashing to the ground with a force that made the floor shudder. Moving quickly, you maneuvered yourself on top of the downed intruder and whipped out your gun, holding it directly at his head.
Suddenly, the apartment was silent except for the panting of both you and Bucky. You glanced up to see Bucky standing over the invader he was fighting, his bare chest heaving with breath. Probably more out of shock than exertion, you figured.
Turning your gaze down to the one pinned beneath you, you held the gun steady, “Who do you work for?”
The man smiled up at you, his teeth full of blood, “You’ll have to kill me,”
“Okay,” You said simply, moving the barrel of your gun to his shoulder and pulling the trigger. 
The invader let out a strangled cry of pain at the nonfatal injury, his body writhing beneath you. 
“Let’s try this again,” You gritted out, pushing the gun closer to his chin, “You tell me who you work for, or the next shot goes into your brain.”
“He’ll kill me for telling you,” The man nearly sobbed.
“Who’s he?” Bucky growled, staring down at the attacker mercilessly. When he didn’t respond, you clenched your jaw.
“Either die now for not telling us, or die later with a chance of making it away. Your choice.” Your words rang through the room as both you and Bucky stared down this terrified intruder. A pang of sympathy ran through you that was quickly smothered because in the end, he had come after Bucky.
And for some reason, that made your vision bleed red.
“Kingpin,” He finally cried, his eyes shut as his blood seeped into Bucky’s floor, “Kingpin sent us to silence the Winter Soldier.”
You had to fight to keep the shock from your features long enough to whip the butt of your gun across the blubbering man’s face and knock him out. Once he was silent beneath you, you stood slowly and looked over to Bucky. His jaw was clenched and his eyes holding that same haunted look they often did.
“I had a run-in with Kingpin as the Winter Soldier,” Bucky muttered, his eyes trained down on the floor where the four intruders were, “I managed to get past his defenses, tore through them like paper. What I found nearly sent him to prison for good if Hydra hadn't cut him a deal.” 
The words broke over you, making your mind whir, “So if he’s coming after you now, after all this time,” 
Bucky looks up at you, his blue eyes nearly knocking your bravado out, “Then that means he’s got something going on he wants to make sure no one finds out about.”
You took a moment to process the implications. Kingpin had something big going down, not that he didn’t always, but now it was more personal. Now, it involved Bucky, which meant it involved you. 
“I’ll get this mess cleaned up,” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his short, dark hair, “Go back to your apartment.”
That was it? Not so much as a thank you?
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “That’s one way to thank someone who just saved your ass.”
“You didn’t save anything,” Bucky gritted out, taking a step closer to you in that intimidating way you found he often liked to, “If you hadn’t come by, I still would have woken up and taken those guys easily.”
“Are you kidding me?” You exclaimed, gesturing around to the mess, “I had two of those guys out before you were even fully awake, Barnes! Just admit I helped you,”
He was so close to you that you could barely reach out and you would be touching his bare skin. The temptation was strong, stronger than you’d like to admit. It was like he was a magnet and you a compass, and for the life of you, even when you wanted nothing more than to run away from him, you couldn’t stop yourself from being led right back into him. 
“I said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and making your stomach take a sudden swirl. “I don’t need your help.”
His eyes darted down to your lips, and then lower before returning to your gaze. It was then that you became fully aware of your lack of pants. Your cheeks heated slightly and you felt your stomach go taut from his attention, but you clenched your jaw and held your place.
“Clearly, you do,” You echoed back to him, refusing to back down. After staring off at him for a few more moments, you let out a frustrated groan and stepped back, snapping the tension in the room as you shoved your way to the door. 
“Why do I even bother with you?” You gritted, stepping over a body, “I got up in the middle of the night and risked my life to help you and I don’t get so much as a-”
“Thanks,”
Bucky’s voice was so quiet that you almost missed it, but you had heard it. You froze in your tracks, your body going still except for your speeding heart as you slowly turned back around.
“What?” You whispered, unbelieving what he had just said. Bucky shot you a pointed glare, but let out a long sigh, some of the anger draining from his face. He looked tired, so incredibly tired.
“Thank you,” He repeated, the words cutting straight through your anger, “I know I can be difficult, it’s just…I’m not…”
He struggled with the words, his voice no longer flooded with frustration or annoyance. You spent a moment peering at the soldier, taking in the fact that he indeed had slept on the floor and noting the dog tags that hung around his throat. 
Bucky Barnes was haunted by his past. So haunted, you guessed, that he was shoving away everyone in his life to make sure nothing bad could happen again. You still were infuriated by him, but you couldn’t say that you hated him. 
In fact, you couldn’t begin to think if you ever really did. Or if maybe that hate was just a cover for the growing attraction you felt towards him, for the…
Ridiculous, you scolded yourself. 
“It’s okay,” You finally announced, your words softer than you intended them to be, “I get it.”
Somehow, you found yourself offering him a sad, soft smile that made the hard edges of his face soften. 
“You’re a lone wolf, I get that.” Your words made his jaw twitch, “And I’m not gonna tell you how to heal. You already know that answer. So, when the time comes that you’re ready to not do all this alone anymore, I’ll be right next door.”
Something changed deep within Bucky’s gaze, something that would have made you stay if you didn’t turn and walk towards the door. As you did, you felt the thumping of your heart. Your words had not just been an offer of help for this Kingpin situation. No, they had been more. An offer of help for anything, and you hadn’t realized you had meant them until they had come out.
Now you were left wondering for the rest of the night when exactly you had stopped hating Bucky Barnes.
And why you had the suspicion that you never hated him at all.
|||
As the dawn broke the next morning, so did your common sense. 
No matter how magnetizing Barnes was, you had to keep your distance unless your mission directly required you to get close. You didn’t know how deep your…not hatred…ran, but you weren’t willing to find out. It could compromise this mission, and most dangerous of all, it could compromise Bucky.
You had to keep your head in the game. So, the next week or so was packed with you spending the day actively avoiding Barnes in the same way you had purposely collided with him at first. During the nights, you poured over documents and case files concerning Kingpin. You tracked his movements, hunted down where his men crawled back to after their missions, watched his cover businesses with a close, keen eye.
Kingpin was an intimidating mobster and could rule his forces with an iron fist of fear, but he wasn’t necessarily the brightest businessman. He was good at covering his illegal tracks, but not great. That was why you were able to catch the whispers around the upcoming charity gala a local socialite was hosting. 
Word was, Kingpin and his men would be at the gala to finish working out a business deal with an associate. The same business deal, you suspected, that had him lashing out at not just Bucky, but several other known adversaries to his empire across the whole of New York. 
So if Kingpin would be there, so would you.
As you finished getting ready for the gala and stood in front of your mirror to make sure everything was perfect, your mind strayed to the super soldier next door. You hadn’t seen him in over a week, not since that night where you saved his life. Even now, his apartment was silent.
You let out a long sigh and adjusted the contours of your dress and felt for the weapons beneath it. The floor-length number was deceiving to anyone with a keen eye, exposing parts of you that would normally hide weapons. Your thigh on your dominant side was almost fully exposed with a slit, and your bodice provided no way to get to a weapon if it was stored there. 
You were a professional, though. Where you hid your weapons, no one would see until it was too late.
As you made your way out of your apartment, being sure to take the stairs this time, and then climbed into the ride you had waiting for you outside, your mind played through a million different ways this night could go. 
Best case would be you catching wind of whatever business had Kingpin so wound up with no altercations in the meantime. Worst case…well, let’s hope you didn’t have to use those weapons you so painstakingly hid.
After a drive that wasn’t long enough, you clambered out into the star-lit, diamond-encrusted evening. The event hall was elegant as you walked in, decked in lavender and silver and crawling with New York’s most elite. In a crowd like this, you knew it would not be hard to find a man as large as Kingpin. 
The longer you spent canvasing the gala, the more your worst case scenario started to play out in your head. As you had feared, Kingpin wasn’t here, not that you could see. Odds were, he sent someone in his place to do the negotiating. Now you had to find some way of finding that-
You gasped as your shoulder bumped right into a firm chest. You had been so busy scanning the room that you hadn’t been looking where you were walking. A warm, calloused hand gripped onto your elbow to keep you stable, and the way the touch made your brain fog should have been an indicator of who this man was. 
But you did not think of it until you glanced up, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t…what are you doing here?”
As your gaze connected with Bucky Barnes, you saw the same flash of disbelief and then annoyance run through his crystal blue eyes.
“Are you serious, doll? You can’t even give me one night out without following me?” Bucky muttered lowly, his hand still around your elbow, holding you close. 
Your chest skipped at that word, that nickname he had called you, but you ignored it and glared right back up at the man, “You know, and this may come as a shock to you, but not everything in my life revolves around following you,”
Bucky scoffed, tilting his head at you. Suddenly, you were fighting to overcome how stunning he was in the all black suit that he wore. His alluring gaze seemed to draw you in again, and you knew you had to get away from him. 
“I wasn’t born yesterday, sweetheart.” Bucky assured, his tone like pure narcotics to your soul.
You let out a short laugh, “Trust me, I know.”
He shook his head, licking his bottom lip as he held your arm and started pulling you towards the exit, “It’s time for you to go.”
“Hey, you cannot just tell me what to do!” You muttered, pulling your arm from his grasp and coming to an abrupt halt. He gritted his jaw as he turned and looked down to you, but you beat him to the punch.
“If you’re here for the same reason as me, then Kingpin’s men are out here somewhere carrying out a business deal that could be huge. This could be our only chance to stop it.”
“Our?” Bucky repeated, and you stared at him indignantly.
“That’s what you caught from all of that?” You exclaimed, huffing out a breath, “Look, whatever is happening is big. If we don’t stop him, who will?”
“I said before, stay out of this. Go back to Langley and report your mission as a success, and leave me alone. These men are dangerous, don’t make this your fight.” Bucky’s words weren’t as angry as before, there was something in them, something almost desperate. 
You held his gaze, taking a step closer, “Trust me, sweetheart, I’ve dealt with plenty of dangerous men.”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked, almost taunting you as he cocked his head at you. 
Your heart was racing, your skin was on fire and he wasn’t even touching you. Maybe leaving was the best idea.
You caught something out of the side of your vision, and looked over towards the dance floor. There you saw one of Kingpin’s associates you’d been tracking all week step out onto the dance floor with a woman you’d never seen before. As he pulled her into a waltz, you knew immediately that this was a business dance, not pleasure. 
“There, 11 o’clock,” You whispered, turning your gaze back to Bucky as his gaze flitted towards the direction you gaze. He nodded once.
“That’s them,” He agreed.
“Come on,” You urged, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the dance floor.
“Woah, woah, I don’t dance,” Bucky protested, but let you pull him nonetheless. You cracked a half-smile as you looked back at Bucky, and you noticed the way something in his gaze shifted at the sight of your smile.
“Well tonight you do.” 
As you pulled Bucky out into the slow dance alongside a few dozen other couples, you noticed the way his lips tipped up ever so slightly. The sight of that smile…it made your heart miss more than a few beats. 
As the two of you joined the fray, Bucky tugged you into him so swiftly that you let out a gasp. Expertly, he guided one hand to the small of your back and grabbed your hand with the other. In a matter of moments, the two of you were dancing, and you looked back up at the soldier in wonder.
“I thought you said you don’t dance,” You mused. Bucky smiled, then turned his gaze to you.
“I don’t, doesn’t mean I can’t,” He informed. 
In that moment, with your hand in his gloved metal one and him smiling down at you like that…it was enough to make you forget anything before this, before now, before him. The two of you danced, and for a moment both of you forgot why you’d joined the dance floor in the first place. Forgotten was business and missions and danger, the only thing left in the world was his hands on you as you danced. 
You could hardly breathe as he led you around the dance floor, and you certainly couldn’t take your eyes off of his. You weren’t smiling anymore, but neither was he. You didn’t smile because you knew. In that moment, held in his arms and dancing like the two of you had been practicing this step your entire life, like you had been made to dance together, you knew.
You knew that no matter what unfolded in the days and weeks to come, whatever became of this mission, Bucky Barnes had ruined you. For no longer could you dance with anyone else. Not when you knew this, knew him. 
He had ruined you in this moment, and for the first time in your life you understood why the Moon never left its orbit. The Moon was so enthralled with catching even a glimpse of the Sun that it was willing to bear the black of night if that’s what it took to bear the Sun’s rays.
Bucky Barnes had ruined you, and now you could never leave your orbit either. 
“Doll, I-”
Whatever Bucky was going to say died as the two of you suddenly found yourselves dancing right beside Kingpin’s associate. That was the snap to reality that you needed, and you forced out1 the outrageous thoughts that had been plaguing you. 
Thinking quickly, you pulled out of Bucky’s hold and stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder. This position let you inconspicuously listen in to what it was that the associate was saying to his business partner, and Bucky quickly caught on as he brought his hands to your waist and held you close. 
You’d like to say that eavesdropping was the only reason you did this, but you’d be lying. Being held by him set your skin on fire, as if you’d been touched by lightning and survived. You needed this, you craved this, with his hands on your waist and his breath on your neck. But you had to focus right now, you had to hear what the associate was saying. 
You forced your brain to switch into operative mode, forcing yourself to focus only on the conversation beside you.
“-depending on how much your boss is willing to pay. Timeliness like that is going to be extra,” The woman spoke. 
“Money is not an issue, trust me,” The associate assured.
“Well then,” The woman responded, sounding pleased, “1.5 for the weapons and an extra 1 for the time bump. Do we have a deal?”
There was a pause, a consideration. Your heart sped up more than it was already racing. Weapons. An arms deal that Kingpin would no doubt use to spread onto the streets, to put a tighter noose around the neighborhoods he already kept under his thumb. And over two million dollars just for weapons? This was the biggest deal you’d seen up close. This could plunge New York into a deeper chaos than it already was.
“An even 2 and we have a deal,” The associate managed out, his tone taut.
“Then I will see you next week. And your boss had better be there, or the deal’s off,” The woman spoke with finality. And then there was silence, nothing but the waltz and the normal clamor of the gala.
Pulling back, you turned your gaze up to Bucky, whose gaze burned down on you with a certain clarity to his blue eyes. 
“Got it?” He mumbled. You nodded, your eyes wide with excitement. 
Smoothly, Bucky led you right off of the dance floor, offering his arm to you. You took it, making sure the two of you were walking in the direction opposite the associate. When you were mixed enough in the crowd, you spoke quietly, your tone flooded with vigor.
“Sometime next week, two million for an arms deal,” You informed. Bucky let out a sharp breath, his gaze forward just like yours as the two of you walked.
“A trade that big…”
“I know,” You whispered in response, your heart thundering. You stopped walking, pulling Bucky to look at you, “I could figure out a day, time, and place. Then, together we could crash their party with an army of SWAT and CIA hiding out nearby. We could keep two mill worth of weapons off the streets and put away Kingpin for a while.”
Bucky turned his gaze from you, his jaw clenched. You furrowed your brows up at the man, you were so sure he would be all over this mission. So why did he have that look in his eye? 
Without looking down at you, Bucky finally spoke, “Like I said, there’s no we. I’m taking you back to the apartment and that’s where you’re gonna stay until this is over.”
You flinched back, so struck by his sudden change in demeanor that a shot of pain went through your chest. How could he be so cold after what happened on that dance floor? You couldn’t have been the only one to feel that…
“I don’t understand,” You breathed, indignation rising in your chest, “Don’t you want to take out Kingpin?”
“I do,” Bucky responded, finally looking down to you with that cold, shut-off look in his gaze that you knew all too well, “But not with you. You’re going home.”
He let go of you and turned, walking towards the exit of the gala. Sputtering, you followed after him, storming behind him into the brisk night. 
“Are you kidding me?” You exclaimed as he gave the valet his ticket and they ran off to grab his car, “What happened to working together? This is my mission, Bucky and I’m not just going to give up on it.”
Bucky turned on you, his gaze boiling with something that wasn’t quiet anger, but felt a lot like it, “I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. Stay out of this one.”
You could see the valet bringing up the car and you knew that once we were inside, he would shut down. This was your last chance. 
“Whether you want my help or not, you are getting it! It is my mission to keep you safe, Bucky and I’m not letting you do this alone.”
Bucky shook his head at you, muttering something about you being impossible as he caught his keys as the valet threw them to him. He sauntered up to the car, opening the door and gesturing for you to get in. Cheeks hot with anger, you stormed up and got in the car, adjusting your dress as he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s seat.
Just as you predicted, the ride back to the apartments was silent. 
You knew what he was doing. He thought this was too dangerous, and he didn’t want you involved. That night in his apartment, you had seen how guarded he was to keep people from getting close. That dance, that had pushed the line and now he was not going to let you get into this mission. Frustration boiled up within you, and halfway through the drive, you finally exploded.
“This is bullshit!” You suddenly exclaimed, and you caught the way Bucky’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“We’re not doing this,” He muttered.
“Like hell we aren’t,” You fired back, turning to look at him even if he kept his eyes on the road, “I know why you’re banning me from this mission and I get it, I do. But-”
“You don’t know anything,” Bucky cut in, his voice low and almost menacing. 
You laughed without humor, slowly losing your control, “You are impossible, impossible!”
Turning forward again, you raked your hands through your hair, “You are so difficult. One day you’re gonna need someone, and if you keep shoving people that care for you away, you’re gonna have no one!”
The car screeched to a sudden halt.
Your stomach dropped as you looked around the surprisingly quiet street, your heart thudding.
“What are you-”
“Get out.” Bucky gritted.
Your heart sank instantly. You looked over at him in astonishment, your eyes wide, “What?”
“Get. Out.” Bucky repeated, not even looking at you, “Walk home.”
“That’s like four miles from here, and I’m in heels!” You exclaimed. Bucky’s jaw tightened.
“You’re CIA, you’ll figure it out.”
Your heart slammed in your chest, and the words you had spit at him moments prior burned in your chest. You had crossed a line, and you knew it. You felt it, “Bucky, I’m sorry. I–”
“Get out of this car before I pull you out myself.” There was hurt in his eyes, and it made you want to die.
You had both said things to hurt the other, had both wounded each other. 
As you stepped out of the car and into the night air, you realized that people could only be hurt by someone who held at least a part of them. And as you shut your door and Bucky peeled away into the night, you felt a piece of you go with him. 
Swallowing thickly, you shook your head and pulled out your phone. You were already searching up a ride to take you to your apartment, but you walked as you did it. The cool night air was refreshing in a way, and you let out a long sigh, putting your phone down and looking around at the near-empty streets. 
What had gone so wrong?
And so, you decided against calling a ride. Instead, you turned into a nearby, warm-looking bar and sat, drinking away your sorrows and working up the courage to make the long, lonely walk home.
|||
You were within a half-mile of your apartment, and you still hadn’t sorted through the storm in your mind.
 All you knew was that this was more than a mission, and it had been for a long while. 
“I gave you one job, and you couldn’t even accomplish it. One simple job.”
Your feet stalled, your head suddenly going quiet. You knew that voice. And, as you took one step closer to the alley that it poured out of and peered inside, what you saw confirmed it.
Kingpin. 
In your muddled haze of a walk, you’d forgotten that one of Kingpin’s cover businesses was on the way back to your apartment. Now here you were, just around the corner of the mobster himself. Your eyes took in his massive frame hovering over a quivering man. A man that looked awfully familiar…
You managed to stifle your gasp as you recognized it as the man that gave Kingpin up to you and Bucky when he’d broken into Bucky’s apartment.
“I’m s-sorry boss, there was two of ‘em. I was lucky to make it out alive,” The man stammered. Kingpin hummed.
“You’re right, that is lucky,” He grabbed the man by his collar and hoisted him off of his feet, easily holding him in mid-air, “So tell me, what exactly did you give up to them to save yourself?”
“N-nothing boss! I would never give you or the operation up, never! I’m loyal,” The man pleaded.
You should go. You should hurry past and keep walking. But you just couldn’t, not when the man himself was standing right there and he might give up information on the arms deal you’d caught wind of. 
Kingpin set the man back onto his feet and smoothed out the man’s collar, “I believe you.”
The man nearly sobbed, “Thank you boss, thank you.”
“But just an insurance policy,” Kingpin said, then motioned with one hand into the darkness of the alley. Two burly guards stepped forward, armed to the teeth. 
“Kill him,” Kingpin spoke smoothly, then stepped back and held his hands together as the man begged and pleaded. Your heart thundered in your chest as the gunshot from one of the guards into the man rang through you, making you flinch slightly. 
When the job was done, Kingpin walked up to his guards, “Filch reported back from the gala. Said he got the deal moved up to next Saturday. Make sure the streets stay quiet. We can’t let it get out.”
“Sure thing, boss,” The guard nodded.
Next Saturday, that gave you eight days. A smile tugged onto your lips and you were just about to move past the alley when a set of burly, vile hands closed around your shoulders. 
“Well look what we’ve got here, a little birdie listening in.” The man purred, and your stomach sank to the floor. 
You had to get away, and you had to do it now. You thrashed against the man’s hold, slipping your hand towards where you’d hidden a small but lethal knife. Kingpin couldn’t know that you’d heard. He couldn’t know. Your hand was inches from the knife when another one of Kingpin’s men came around the corner and grabbed your wrists in a bruising grip, yanking them in front of you. 
“Hello there, pretty bird,” He greeted, and together the two men began to drag you into the alley. Sudden, blinding panic slammed into you and you knew instantly what you had to do. 
If you pulled a weapon and beat the shit out of these guys like you knew you could, Kingpin would know you’d heard him and were someone to be worried about. Your best chance at making it out of this not only alive, but with the deal still set for next Saturday, you had to play dumb. You had to be a regular citizen, an innocent bystander scared of getting mugged. 
And so you did.
You turned your anger into fear that wasn’t totally falsified, and you thrashed in the men’s grips.
“Please, let me go!” You begged, “You can take my money, my wallet, anything you want! Please!”
They’d gotten you into the alley by now, and darkness wrapped around you as Kingpin himself heard your cries. He paused, looking back at you and tilting his head curiously. Your pulse thundered so fast that you thought you’d faint. 
“What’s going on here?” Kingpin asked, slowly walking up to you, towering over you even when he was a few feet away.
“Caught this pretty lady walking by, looking like she wanted to come say hello,” One of the men presented.
The smell of the alley nearly made you gag, the fabric of your dress already soiled at the bottom from the puddles of unknown liquid. Real fear was pulsing through you, and you let it. You shoved down the instincts drilled into you from your time in the CIA and let yourself be a citizen, a bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Please, you can have my jewelry, my money, anything you want,” You insisted, your eyes filling with tears that weren’t entirely fake. 
“We’re not muggers,” Kingpin responded, his tone curious as he took you in, “What are you doing out here all alone, little bird?”
“My Uber canceled on me and I had to walk home from my party, please I don’t know what’s going on!” You trembled out. 
Kingpin studied you closely, then tilted his head and said to the men holding you, “Search her,”
Panic was constricting your chest, and you shivered as the men began patting you down. You had to clench your firsts to keep from breaking one of their noses when one stayed a little longer than necessary on your breasts. There was a small breath of relief when they both stood back, having found none of your hidden weapons.
“She’s clean.”
Kingpin cracked a half smile and reached forward. You flinched back as much as the men holding you would allow, but that wasn’t enough. He grabbed ahold of one of your fists, raising it up to inspect. He looked back up at you, his gaze amused.
“You’re angry,” Kingpin mused, a smile ticking onto his lips, “You’ve got more fight in you then you’re letting on.” “Well ladies with fight who are dragged into alleyways don’t usually last long, do they?” You managed out, your eyes daring to meet his. To your surprise, he laughed.
“Let her go, boys. We’ve terrified her enough.” 
You almost sobbed in relief when the men holding you let go. It worked. He was letting you go, he didn’t know. He didn’t-
That’s when you made your first and only mistake. You let your eyes travel the alley for a moment. But that moment, no matter how short, was enough. You saw the dead body of the man who had just been shot. 
And Kingpin knew it.
He glanced back towards the body, then slowly back to you. 
“Oh little bird, why’d you have to go and do that? I was really starting to like you,” He sighed.
Terror like you’d never known gripped you suddenly. Dread, real and cold pierced into your belly. You began to shake your head.
“No, no please I won’t tell anyone. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t-”
His massive hand gripped your jaw, cutting you off. You trembled terribly as he held your jaw and just peered at you, seeming to test you.
Finally, finally, he said, “I believe you.”
You sighed, but barely had a moment to breathe when he repeated those damned words from before, “But just as an insurance policy,”
He stepped back, letting you go and then gesturing to his men.
“Rough her up. Don’t kill her, just show her what’s gonna happen if she does decide to tell,” Kingpin stepped back into the dark alley, a smile starting on his lips, “Which I don’t think she will. Good night, little bird.”
“Wait,” You shook, glanced around at his goons who now surrounded you, “Wait, please,”
You had taken beatings before, you could do this. You could do this.
“Boss’s orders,” One shrugged, then crashed his fist into your jaw.
Then the onslaught began, and you let it happen. You let them beat you, let them kick you so hard you thought ribs cracked, let them bust your lip and bruise your cheek. You could have them all dead in moments, but you let it happen. You’d made it this far without blowing the mission to hell, you couldn’t give yourself away now. 
So you stayed there on the alley floor, and you took it.
|||
By the time you finally made it to your apartment and stumbled up the stairs, you could barely stand.
Your head was spinning as you struggled to get your keys into the door. By the time you finally did, you shouldered your way in and didn’t even bother closing the door. You could barely think, barely see, barely feel anything besides the pain.
You’d taken worse beatings, sure, but it didn’t make this one hurt any less. Your breathing was labored as each breath made shooting pain pierce through your rib cage. Your dress was ripped and bloody and covered in filth from the alley floor. All you could taste was blood from the lip one of the men had split, and you were sure that if anyone were to see you, you’d look more like a walking corpse than anything else.
You stumbled over to your kitchen bar, gripping onto the surface for stability as you dropped your phone and clutch onto it. Your legs trembled from the effort of standing, and you didn’t even bother to switch the light on considering that would require more walking. All you wanted was to gather your strength, make it to your bathroom, and get all of this blood off of you. 
Then you’d sleep for as long as your body would let you.
At least, that was the plan until there was a knock on your slightly open door. 
You didn’t even have the strength to speak as the person pushed open the door and walked a few steps into your dark, silent apartment.
“Y/N, I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but…” Bucky paused, and the sound of his voice nearly made you sob. More than anything, more than even a bath or sleep, you wanted him to hold you. You were too tired to question the impulse.
Bucky sighed, and you could practically hear the indecision in his tone, “I turned around as soon as I forced you out, but I couldn’t find you. I’ve been pacing the entire night waiting for you to come back. I overreacted and…and I’m sorry.”
He’d gone back for you. He’d looked for you. 
Your heart burned, and tears you didn’t fight worsened your already blurry vision.
You wanted to turn and run to him, you wanted to hold him and tell him that it was alright, that you were sorry too. But you couldn’t. If you let go of this counter, you’d collapse, and you knew that if you hit this floor, you weren’t getting back up tonight. 
“You were just trying to help me, and I have such a hard time taking help and an even harder time letting people in and,” Bucky stopped with a sigh, cutting off his rant, “I’m stumbling through this, could you please just turn around and say something?”
If you weren’t on the brink of passing out, you’d laugh. 
Bucky let out a frustrated huff, “I’m apologizing here, are you even listening?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but blood came out instead and you let out a short cough. 
“Fine,” Bucky gritted, clearly trying to hold back his emotion, “I’ll just…leave you be.”
Panic disrupted your pain and you managed to brace your weight with one hand on the counter and turn towards where Bucky was already walking towards your door. He couldn’t leave. You needed him.
“Bucky,” You strangled out, your voice exhausted, “W-wait,”
Bucky froze, his gaze turning back to you with his brows furrowed. That’s when the light of the hallway broke upon you, and his eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood and dirt and bruises. 
You heard him say your name like a vow, but then the world began to spin and you were collapsing. 
You barely felt the thud of the floor as you slammed against it, your body bloody and broken and giving up for the night. You heard the pounding of footsteps, felt the floor tremble as Bucky slid to his knees beside you. His hands were so gentle, so heart-breakingly gentle, as he lightly touched your bruised cheek. You watched through a blurred gaze as he kneeled over you, his jaw tight and his eyes wild. 
“You’re okay, doll, I got you. I got you,” Bucky promised, ever so tenderly pulling your broken body into his lap. He cradled your head with his hand, his eyes sweeping over you to take in the extent of your injuries.
“Shit,” He swore, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”
“Not your fault,” You managed, a tear slipping down your cheek.
Bucky shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight that you saw his muscles ticking. His breaths were shallow as he caressed a finger down your cheek before gathering you in his arms as gently as he could. You groaned in pain as he stood, holding you close to himself with ease. But even despite the pain, he was holding you, and that was something you never thought you’d feel again.
“I know baby, I know,” He whispered, his words soothing you through the pain. He carried you out of your apartment, careful to close the door before carrying you into his place. You felt your consciousness slipping now that you were safe. You actually had never felt safer than when you were here, in his arms. 
Bucky set you down on his counter, the cool material taking the edge off of the aching of your body. Before he could clean you up or bandage anything, Bucky stood close to you, his hand staying on your cheek. You leaned into it, knowing you wouldn’t have if you weren’t half-asleep right now.
“Doll, I need you to look at me,” Bucky urged, a cold, ferocious tone to his voice that you didn’t think was for you. You managed to pry your eyes open and clash your gaze with his. In it was a cold fury, “Who did this to you?”
“Kingpin’s men,” You mumbled, and Bucky stiffened, “I caught…word of the deal, but he…he saw me. Only way to…to not blow it was to…to-”
“Play the bystander,” Bucky finished for you, and you nodded. Bucky shook his head, “You stupid, brave girl.”
You managed a smile, but the movement pulled at the split in your lip and made you wince. 
“You can sleep now, doll. I’ve got you,” Bucky whispered. You nodded, letting your eyes flutter closed. You felt his hand caress your cheek, his fingers lingering on your skin.
Then, in the near dark of sleep, Bucky let out a defeated sigh.
“Oh darling,” He sighed, then there was a press of a kiss to your brow and whispered words against your skin, “How the hell am I supposed to let you go when this is all over?”
|||
“Bucky?”
Your voice rang through Bucky’s apartment, amusement heavy in your tone. He hummed in response, his back to you as he slaved away at his small stove.
Before you already sat a fresh coffee, eggs, toast, and fruit. You couldn’t help but smile. The movement pulled at your healing lip, but it didn’t hurt anymore.
“It’s been two days. You don’t have to keep apologizing,” You called out. Bucky turned around to you, holding a pan in one hand.
“I’m just making breakfast,” He tried, but you just raised an eyebrow at him. With a sigh, Bucky set down the pan, and walked over to the counter, settling his hands down on the other side of where you sat.
“Y/N, you didn’t see what I did that night,” Bucky mumbled, not meeting your gaze, “If you could have seen how you looked, all that blood…”
Your heart strung in your chest. You slept nearly an entire day after the incident, and then spent the next day being fussed over by Bucky. You had a few bruised ribs and some nasty shiners, but nothing serious luckily. In all that time, the two of you had avoided the subject of that night besides the both of you apologizing to the other profusely.
“Buck, listen to me,” You whispered, his pained gaze finally rising to yours, “That was a heated night, we both did and said things we didn’t mean. We apologized for that, it’s behind us. But what happened to me in that alley,”
You paused hesitating only a moment before you threw caution to the wind and reached across the counter, grabbing his hand. His metal hand. His eyes widened a fraction and something changed in his gaze, something that made your heart miss a step.
“What happened to me in that alley was not your fault. That one was all me,” You insisted. Bucky squeezed your hand, the cool metal soothing your skin.
“But if I had just kept you in the car, if I hadn’t overreacted like that-”
“Then we wouldn’t know when the deal was going down,” You reasoned, “And if I were you, I would have kicked me out of the car too.”
Bucky let out a low laugh, shaking his head. His thumb ran across your skin absentmindedly, making your mind muddle, “Fine.”
You raised your eyebrows, a smile dancing on your lips “So does that mean we can move on? Not that I mind you making me breakfast.”
“Don’t push your luck, doll,” Bucky warned, a smile tugging at his lips. Letting go of your hand, he walked around the counter and into his living room, walking over to his coffee table where two files sat. You swiveled around on the barstool, watching him curiously.
As if he felt your gaze, Bucky spoke again, “While you were getting your beauty sleep in, I found where the arms deal is going down. So, if we’re gonna crash that party, we better start planning.”
A thrill went through you, and you sat up straighter. You watched as he turned and walked back to you with the files in his hand. Sure enough, he handed you one of them. You opened the front, seeing the page filled with information on Kingpin, his empire, and the arms deal. You looked up at Bucky with wide, bright eyes.
“We?” You taunted. Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing the front of your file.
“I can still take this back,” He warned. You smiled, pulling it back towards you and out of his grasp. His grumpy demeanor didn’t scare you, nor did it frustrate you like it did before. 
“Too late,” You said sweetly, looking up at him as he stood before your seated frame. He shook his head at you, a half smile he tried to hide on his lips as he stepped back. 
“Alright CIA,” Bucky announced, flipping open his file, “Show me what you got.”
|||
It was Saturday night, and the air was thick with anticipation. 
You and Bucky sat in his car, staking out the trainyard where the arms deal was set to be going down. The walkie set before you crackled to life.
“How’s it looking?” Sam Wilson asked. You smiled at the sound of his voice, happy to have him here. Once you briefed him on what was happening, he just had to have a piece of it.
“Nothing so far,” You replied, your eyes sweeping across the darkened yard packed with parked trains, “We’ve still got some time, though.”
“I have RedWing watching from the skies, so I’ll keep you posted,” Sam informed.
“I hate that damn thing,” Bucky grumbled. You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing.
“What was that?” Sam asked. 
“Nothing,” You answered, putting your hand over Bucky’s mouth just as he’s about to repeat his statement, “Tell RedWing we said thank you!”
As soon as the radio went quiet, Bucky pulled off your hand, staring at you in indignation. 
“You are getting too comfortable with me,” He gritted. You shrugged, trying not to look too smug.
“Someone’s gotta keep you in line,” You quipped. Bucky was grumbling under his breath about something, and you were just about to ask him about it when something caught your eye in the distance. You sat up, pointing towards the left side of the yard.
“There,” You announced, your tone serious, “You see it?”
Bucky leaned forward, following the direction you were pointing. He nodded, reaching forward and grabbing the walkie.
“Sam, two SUVs rolling in. You got ‘em?” 
“I see them,” Sam responded, his voice all business, “Looks like it's the dealers. The weapons are probably stashed in one of the train cars somewhere. I’ll run a scan, you guys get out there.”
“Will do, comms going in,” Bucky replied.
The two of you slipped the comm links into your ears, checking your respective guns before exiting the car. You both jogged towards the first train car parked in the massive yard, getting cover as fast as possible.
“Be advised, the dealers have associates fanning out through the trainyard.” Sam’s voice crackled through the comm.
“Copy,” You spoke softly, your back pressed against the train, “We’ll take care of it.”
Looking over to Bucky, you nodded once at him before he led the way, gun raised as he cleared the corner. The two of you worked systematically through the yard. Sweeping out slowly in search of the associates. This place was a maze, making it ideal for deals like this. If you wanted a chance at taking the op down, you had to get these guards out.
You and Bucky paused at a break in the train, and this time you led as you inched forward and checked the corner. Seeing a guard standing watch at the corner, you pulled back and looked at Bucky. Without even having to say a word, you and Bucky worked together as if you’d been doing it for years. 
You crouched down, holstering your gun and slipping out a knife. You took a beat to breathe before you slid forward, around the corner. The noise made the guard swivel her head, but she made the mistake of not looking down. With the deadly sharp knife, you made it to her feet before she noticed you.
Then, you whistled. A quiet, simple tone. With furrowed brows, she looked down to see you, crouched by her feet with a knife. Her brows rose and she opened her mouth to alert someone, but Bucky was on her, his hand around her mouth. That’s when you struck, slicing the tendon at the back of her heel. 
Bucky’s hand muffled her scream as she dropped, and you stood in response, landing a killer blow across her temple and knocking her out. When the scuffle was over, the trainyard was silent. With a breathless smile, you looked up to Bucky.
“We make a pretty good team,” You whispered. He shot you a pointed look.
“I don’t do teams.”
You followed him as walked past the downed guard, a smirk tugging at your lips, “That’s right. You’re a lone wolf.”
Bucky stopped in his gait, nearly making you run into him. He turned and shot a glare at you, one that let you know you were getting under his skin. You held your hands up, showing him you were backing off the subject. He shook his head at you and kept walking. 
“You do make a good team,” Sam intervened, making you smile triumphantly.
“Sam, I swear-” Bucky began, but you darted up, covering his mouth with your hand to silence him. He saw the guard rounding the corner a second after you did. Luckily, the guard hadn’t seen you.
Not yet, at least.
Thinking quickly, Bucky grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up into the opening of a nearby, darkened train car. You landed inside silently and turned, waiting for Bucky who jumped in a second later. Swiveling his gaze around, he noticed the same problem you did. 
The car was full of weapons. The weapons.
Not only did this endanger the both of you should the deal start soon, it also left little room for you to hide. Bucky solved that issue swiftly as he turned and urged you against a stack of explosives, his body pressed against yours instantly, caging you into the darkness and making sure the two of you were invisible.
Or, you realized with a start, making sure you were invisible. 
You could see just far enough to look up and see Bucky peering down at you. His body was against yours, and his face was so near to yours that you could move half an inch and your lips would be touching. His pine and whiskey scent washed over you, intoxicating you, making you forget for a moment where you were. 
Bucky seemed to do the same as his hand moved from beside your hand and he swept a thumb against your cheek. Lightning scattered across your skin where he touched, and you nearly forgot how to breathe. 
You wanted to kiss him. You needed to kiss him. 
Bucky’s eyes were darting between your lips and gaze, and your heart thundered in your chest. You were sure he could feel it with your bodies pressed so tightly together, and the uptick of the edge of his lips told you he did. Your lips itched in anticipation, burning even as they were kept apart from his. 
Bucky’s hand moved from your cheek down to rest against your throat, just as it did that day in your kitchen all those months ago. You knew that he did it to get a better feel of your pulse, and your cheeks heated in response. His lips were nearly touching yours and his hand was on your neck and you thought you might faint.
He was totally in control of you, and he knew it.
With a half-smirk that made your knees nearly buckle he whispered, “Do I always make you this nervous?”
You wanted to banter back, to shoot a petty insult at him, but you couldn’t think of anything but his lips on yours. You wanted it so badly, and you could tell Bucky did too because the hand that wasn’t on your throat was clenched tightly, as if he was restraining himself. You nudged your chin up a fraction, stopping just short of his lips, leaving the decision up to him. Bucky moved, and when his lips were almost touching yours-
“I found the weapons,” Sam’s voice poured out of RedWing, who sat hovering right in front of you and Bucky. 
You and Bucky jolted apart, the coast clear from the guard and the both of you coughing or clearing your throat.
“What?” Sam asked, his tone taunting, “Did I interrupt something?”
“Sam, if RedWing doesn’t fly away I’m gonna break it,” Bucky threatened lowly. 
“What, are you mad that he’s c-”
Bucky lunged for RedWing, who turned and flew away just in time. You couldn’t help but smile, struggling to hold in your laughter as Bucky turned and shook his head, clearly wound up. When he saw the look on his face he pointed a finger in your direction.
“Not a word,” He commanded. 
“Yes sir,” You teased, shoving his shoulder lightly as you passed him to inspect the weapons. What you missed as you peered into the weapons crates was the way Bucky smiled at you as you passed, a real smile unlike any of the one’s he’d given since the 40’s.
“Look at all this,” You breathed, inspecting box after box of weapons of all sorts. 
“And there’s at least six more cars just like it,” Sam informed over the comm. You shook your head, picking up a rather nasty looking bomb. 
“We better get a move on, Kingpin’s bound to be here at any moment.” Your words caught Bucky’s attention and he nodded, walking towards the opening of the train car and hopping out. Wordlessly, you followed. As you jumped out of the car, Bucky grabbed you by the hips and slowed down your descent, setting you safely on the ground. His hands burned on your waist, and that tension from before returned in full force.
“I had that, you know,” You informed, raising a brow at him. He just smirked.
“I know.”
Then let you go and walk away, finally letting you take in a breath. As you followed him, you shook your head. 
This was going to be a long night.
|||
It took twenty more minutes for you and Bucky to clear out the guards without any of them reporting back a disturbance.
And, right on time, Kingpin and his men showed up
You watched as the massive, hulking man sauntered up to the center of the trainyard where the dealers, led by the woman from the gala, stood waiting. You stood pressed against a train nearby with Bucky against the one across from you. Overhead, Sam was waiting for your signal to move in. 
It would be your job to make sure the SWAT team rolling up outside had enough time to infiltrate and secure the weapons that they could. In the meantime, you, Bucky, and Sam would ambush the deal, taking out as many operatives as you could and securing Kingpin and the Dealer. 
But right now, your mind wasn’t on the plan. No, you were stuck staring at the goons who waltzed up with Kingpin. You recognized three of them as the men who pummeled you that night after the gala. Noticing your clenched jaw, Bucky followed your gaze to the men. Understanding broke over him and you glanced over to see a certain fury flood his gaze. He looked back to you, his gaze clashing with yours.
“Which ones?” Was all he whispered, low enough so he couldn’t be heard by anyone except for the comm link. You heard the edge in his voice, and maybe it was wrong, but you loved it.
“The two on his right and second to the left.”
Bucky nodded, staring down the three men. He looked back to you, “You want them?”
A smile ghosted your lips. You could see the restraint in the way his shoulders were held tensely and the whitening of his knuckles on his gun. He wanted them, but he wanted you to have the choice first.
And you fell in love, right there. It began with the dance, but it was done now. There was no going back.
“Share?” You offered, and Bucky’s lips tipped up in a smile.
The two of you turned your attention back to the deal, straining enough to hear the conversation flowing from Kingpin and the Dealer who met in the middle.
“I’m not seeing my weapons,” Kingpin noted, his hands clasped before him. The woman smiled.
“The money first. Then you’ll get your weapons.”
Your hands tightened around your gun, waiting for Kingpin’s next move. He surveyed the Dealer before nodding, turning back to his man and motioning. That was it, this was your chance. 
“Now,” You whispered, and instantly the sound of bullets from somewhere to the right blasted through the air.
Sam’s distraction.
The Dealer and Kingpin snapped their gazes towards the sound. 
“What the hell-”
That’s when you and Bucky swept in, guns raised and bullets flying before the group knew what was happening. Chaos broke out, but every time someone strayed from the center to flee into the trains, Sam was there to guide them back. 
The scene was a flurry of bullets and knives, of yelling and screams, but in the end it was you and Bucky who were left standing amongst the group of downed guards. Of course, there were a few left standing besides Kingpin and the Dealer, one of which happened to be one of the men who beat the shit out of you after the gala.
You did not miss how one of the other men who’d beat you wasn’t just unconscious nearby, but his neck was twisted at a wrong angle with Bucky standing nearby. The last of three was lying somewhere in the mess, shot and bleeding out. 
Silence settled over the scene as Sam slammed down on the top of one of the train cars, gun raised. Bucky stood by the Dealer, and you by Kingpin. The two criminals stood silently, their hands raised in submission. 
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” You announced, keeping your gun pointed at Kingpin. He snapped his gaze to you, and surprise flickered through it followed by a sort of…admiration that made your skin crawl, “A SWAT team is closing in on the weapons now, so the two of you are going to call off anyone else you have stationed and come with us, without a fight preferably.”
“Little bird,” Kingpin greeted, making your pulse spike. You didn’t want to look at him, but you did anyway, and you hated the way you shook as you did, “It’s not often I’m surprised, but I gotta say, you’ve got me speechless here.”
You gritted your teeth, but it was Bucky who called out “Clearly not speechless enough,”
Kingpin laughed, seeming almost at ease. He started to lower his hands and you took a step closer, your gun held strong before you.
“Keep your hands where I can see them!” You ordered. 
“Okay, okay,” Kingpin complied, raising his hands up, “But I just want to say, you really shoulda thought this out more.”
You furrowed your brows, “Wh-”
You couldn’t even get the words out when three of the nearby train car doors slid open, and guards poured out. Your heart shot into your throat, and you didn’t even have the chance to shoot when twenty guns were pointed at you and twenty more at Bucky. You shot a nervous glance towards Bucky, who shared the same look. 
“Sam, go,” You whispered, and he flew off without another word. He needed to get the SWAT team in here now, or you and Bucky wouldn’t make it long. On the bidding of Kingpin’s army, you and Bucky set your guns down slowly. 
“Alright,” Kingpin announced, sighing as if this were just another Saturday night, “Now here’s what’s really gonna happen.”
He walked up to you, and off to the side you saw Bucky immediately lunge forward towards him. He couldn’t make it far before Kingpin pulled out a gun of his own and pointed it at your head.
Bucky froze.
“Leave her alone,” Bucky ordered, his voice dark and menacing. 
“Now it’s getting fun,” Kingpin mused, ignoring Bucky completely and stepping closer to you. You clenched your fists to hide the way they shook. 
“You’re gonna hop up to this train car here and get my weapons out, make sure they’re what I wanted. Then, you’re gonna call off the SWAT team, and we’re gonna walk out of here,” Kingpin said simply. 
“Not happening,” You gritted out.
“Funny, I don’t remember giving you a choice,” Kingpin sighed before grabbing your arm and looking to the dealer, “Which one has the weapons?”
She smirked, pointed at the train car nearby Bucky. It was torture to be dragged past him and not be able to touch him. Not for lack of trying, either. As you went by, he made a break for you, shouting your name. It took eight men to restrain him.
Eight men, that’s how many it took to hold him steady. 
And, you figured he was holding back since there was a gun to your head. 
“Oh, and package the soldier up. I want to have a few…words with him later.” Kingpin ordered, and panic blinded you. You reared back helplessly, struggling against his iron grip as you had to watch the men try to subdue Bucky and get him into handcuffs. 
Your panicked gaze met his, and all you could do was pray Sam was close with the SWAT team. You couldn’t rely on that, though. Kingpin was going to kill you and then Bucky.
You could die, so long as Bucky didn’t.
A plan began to spin in your head as Kingpin shoved you up into the train car. 
“Now, grab a gun from in there and show it to me,” Kingpin ordered, but then gave you a knowing smile, “And don’t try anything, or I’ll have a bullet in your boyfriend’s head.”
“On our way!” Sam called through the comm, but you were running out of time. The men were already hauling away Bucky, and you had to act fast. 
Turning into the dark train car full of weapons, you tried to lift a box and pretended to fail. Turning to look down at Kingpin, who still stood on the ground, you gritted, “I can’t get it. It’s too heavy.”
Maybe it was his built-in trust of you from your encounter that night after the gala, or maybe it was because he thought you were under too much emotional duress, but he believed you.
He bought it, and he hauled himself into the train car for everyone to see.
“You better not be-”
Before he could speak again or anyone could react, you’d pulled the bomb you picked earlier off of your belt and pulled the pick. Gasps and shouts rang out through the yard as you held the live explosive in your hand and made sure you stood between Kingpin and the exit of the train car.
“Y/N NO!” Bucky shouted, his voice cracking. With a bare pull of his arms, the cuffs on his wrists snapped and he made a move for you. 
A handful of guns were pressed into Bucky’s head, stopping him cold. In response, you held the motion-induced explosive tighter and pushed it further towards Kingpin, who had backed as far as he could against a stack of crates. Terror was clear across his face, which brought a sick sort of delight.
“You shoot him, and I drop it,” You announced, and once again the yard plunged into silence. 
Anyone who could see the situation knew you had the upper hand. If anyone killed you, the bomb would hit the ground and kill Kingpin. If Kingpin tried anything on you, you’d drop the bomb and kill the both of you. You were locked in a stalemate, and now you were going to win.
“Now, put your guns down.” Your voice rang through the trainyard, but no one acted. You lifted your brows and nodded, turning your head towards Kingpin. Panic flared in his eyes and he shouted, “GUNS DOWN! Put your damn guns down!”
You turned your head and watched as everyone did as they were told. Your eyes snagged on Bucky, who had a desperate look on his face. He shook his head, but you ignored his silent pleas. 
“You, the Dealer and all your forces are going to stand down. You’re going to wait patiently for SWAT to get here,” You lifted your chin, “Or I’ll drop this and we both go.”
“You wouldn’t,” Kingpin stuttered. 
“You really want to call my bluff? Go ahead, end your criminal empire in one moment of stupidity,” You dared. 
Kingpin took a moment to survey your gaze before he shook his head, “You’re crazy.”
You didn’t miss a beat.
“The things you do for love.”
That’s when you heard the rustling of gear and looked over to see the SWAT team storming in, guns raised and shouting at the Dealer and all of the assorted criminals throughout the yard. Taking in a trembling breath, you looked back at Kingpin.
“Game over, little bird,” You lifted your chin, and Kingpin’s eyes flared.
“This isn’t over,” He assured.
“Sure it isn’t,” You replied easily. Well, as easily as you could with a live bomb in your grasp.
You heard the clanging of the train car and looked over to see Bucky inside, his eyes deadly and his jaw clenched tightly as he grabbed Kingpin.
“Out,” Bucky growled, throwing him to the ground outside. Officers were on him instantly, but Bucky wasn’t paying attention, instead, he was on you. 
“Bucky, stay-” You warned with a trembling voice, stepping back to keep the bomb from him. Bucky wasn’t listening to you, though, He cut you off and cupped your cheeks.
“What the hell were you thinking? You could have died!” Bucky nearly shouted, but you didn’t miss the way his voice shook. 
“He was going to take you, and I couldn’t let him do that,” You whispered, tears gathering in your eyes. 
“So you pulled a bomb on him?” Bucky pushed. A tear slipped down your cheek and Bucky wiped it away, shaking his head at you, “Don’t ever do that again, don’t ever risk your life like that for me again.”
“No promises.” Your voice was trembling badly, and your hand was clenched so tightly around the bomb that your fingers hurt, “Bucky, I’m scared.”
You heard Sam call for a bomb squad in the distance, but you didn’t tear your gaze from Bucky. He pressed his forehead to yours, “I know, baby. But you’re gonna be alright.”
“What if I drop it?” You whispered, only allowing your fear to be heard and seen from Bucky. 
“You’re not gonna drop it,” Bucky assured, reaching forward and holding the explosive over your hand.
Buck, don’t-”
He held fast, closing both of his hands around yours and the bomb, “You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”
“Sam, how long on that bomb squad?” You called out, another rogue tear burning down your cheek.
“They should be here any minute.” Sam’s reply made the tension in your chest ease slightly, and as if on command, the bomb squad came running up to the train car.
Bucky’s hands were solid around yours, and his gaze was unflinching and unafraid. He had you. That thought made your heart rate slow. He had you, he had you.
“So what do you have here?” A lady asked, jogging up and hopping into the train car, looking down at the explosive. She hummed, nodding before reaching into her kit. You looked down to watch her work, new fear ripping through you.
“No, just look at me,” Bucky ordered, making your gaze snap up to his. You nodded, doing your best to hold his gaze as the woman worked on the bomb. 
“You’ve got pretty eyes,” You murmured, the fear making your inhibitions lowered, “I don’t think I ever told you that.”
Bucky’s lips edged up into a smile, “Well, I figured you thought so considering how fast your heart was beating in that train car a few minutes ago. Or were you thinking about something other than my eyes?”
His charm worked perfectly, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Look at us,” You mused, glancing down at the bomb for a moment before looking back up to Bucky, “A few months ago you wanted to kill me, and now we’re holding a bomb I pulled to save your ass, again.”
“No, I still want to kill you sometimes,” Bucky amended, but the words held no merit. 
“Alright,” The bomb squad lady said, grabbing onto the underside of the bomb, “You can let it go now. I’ve got it.”
Your smile faded and you locked your gaze with Bucky’s again. He pulled one of his hands off and your grip on the explosive tightened. You shook your head slightly.
“It’s okay,” He murmured, nodding to you, “Let it go.”
Bucky slid his hand that was left on the bomb to yours, intertwining your fingers and slowly pulling your hand off. Before you knew it, Bucky had managed to pull your hand off the grenade. In its stead, Bucky held your hand tightly, pulling you instantly into his chest. 
You let out a shuddering sigh of relief, leaning your head on Bucky’s shoulder. Slowly he pulled back, keeping your hand in his, “Come on, let’s go.”
You nodded, your fear ebbing as the two of you jumped down from the train car. In an instant, Sam was at the two of you, nearly knocking you over with a hug. You laughed, letting go of Bucky’s hand and hugging Sam back. 
“You are insane!” Sam exclaimed, letting go of you and shaking his head, “Absolutely insane.”
You smiled, “Thanks,”
Sam laughed, shaking his head as he walked over to Bucky, “So not a compliment.”
After he checked in with Bucky he turned and faced the two of you. 
“Good work, guys. Glad to see you’re not killing each other here.” 
“Yet,” You and Bucky happened to say at the same time. 
Sam smiled, “I better be off, I’ve got a mission I left to help out here.” Pausing, he looked over to you and gestured to Bucky, “Take care of him?”
You smiled, nodding, “Always.”
The two of you said your goodbyes as Sam turned and flew off. With a long sigh, you turned and began to make your way back to Bucky’s car.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I could go for some food right now.” You announced. 
“Wait,” Bucky stopped you, grabbing your arm and pulling you around to face him, “What you said back there to Kingpin…did you mean it?”
For a moment, you considered playing dumb and asking what he meant. But you knew what he meant, and he knew you did. You had inadvertently said that you loved him, and because of the bomb situation you almost thought you’d make it out without having to confront it.
You held Bucky’s gaze that was searing into you, and suddenly you were overcome with that same sensation to kiss him as before. With him standing this close to you and after what you’d just been through together, it took all of your strength to hold back. The tension in the air between the two of you as he waited for your response was maddening.
“Well, I did nearly blow myself up for you so take that as you-”
“You are infuriating,” Bucky huffed, tugging you closer so that your body was flush against his. Your joking ended immediately, your pulse flickering wildly as his lips danced just out of reach of yours. His blue eyes were dark as he stared down at you, each of you daring the other to make the first move.
Your lips brushed against his as you spoke into the silence, “I meant it.”
And then his lips were on yours. His arm was around your waist, pulling you tight as his other tangled into your hair. This kiss had been brewing for months, and you could feel it. Lightning danced across your skin as he kissed you desperately, in a way that made your arms tighten around his neck to keep yourself from falling. He nipped at your bottom lip softly, then pulled away and moved to hold your face in his hands. 
For a long while, Bucky just stared at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. You smiled, still dazed from the kiss. 
“What?” You asked. 
He ran a thumb across your cheek tenderly, “I was just trying to think back to when things changed between us. But…but I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.”
Your smile widened and you surged forward, kissing him again. Pulling back, you gazed up at him with an amused glint in your eyes.
“And when you were choking me in my kitchen, threatening to kill me, that was you showing your love for me?” You asked.
Bucky’s grin turned suave and playful as he threw his arm across your shoulders and walked with you towards his car, “Well, you seemed to like it enough in that train car.”
Your cheeks heated and you scoffed, slapping his muscled chest as the two of you walked. 
“Jerk,” You laughed out, and he held you closer to him with a smile.
“I love you too.”
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jeffthekillerzblog · 1 year ago
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a major plot point or like the entire thing about my au is just the creeps moving on and having their own character arcs throughout the years and finally heal from their past trauma
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(rest is me rambling about my au...u don't have to read if u don't wanna its pretty long)
Jeff's arc is big on him finding his brother and coming to terms with what really happened. jeff is so incredibly stubborn and a big (very) egotistical. he finds it hard to open up and after what happened he feels that there's no point opening up anyway bc he's literally a famous asshole serial killer who's messed up SO many people's lives. another big thing about his arc is just owning up to his actions and apologizing to the people he's hurt. for example, nina. he led her on, treated her terribly for no reason, and was overall just an asshole. after they get into an argument he'll eventually apologize bc like he didn't HATE nina, he's was and prob still is in a terrible mindset and copes in such unhealthy ways. IDK OK I'm rambling but my point is he does eventually apologize to nina not because he needs her or like wants to use her again. he apologizes because he genuinely misses her and BOOM they become besties again after jeff properly apologizes and ya. BUT basically jeff's arc is him finally finding liu after all these years and yeah he apologizes to all the people he hurt (or the IMPORTANT ones) like nina, liu, and EVENTUALLY... jane. but that's WAY into the future (besides nina) he's way too full of himself to apologize now.
Nina's arc is her getting over JEFF. her love for Jeff began when she met him. she already admired him, but he turned into a full on crush. he did lead her on, and it hurt her a lot. shed spent tons of nights alone when jeff was supposed to be sleeping next to her, and she just felt so lonely, especially since jeff was so neglectful. She talks to clockwork about it and they help her realize her self worth and comforts her (she's terrible at it). Nina starts hanging out with Nat and toby more often, and it makes her feel SO much better about herself. Eventually she does get fed up of jeffs bs and they get into an argument and nina decides to leave. she kicks him out of her apartment and she doesn't let him come back. (she does....when he apologizes.....) She eventually learns to love herself and realize she doesn't need a stinky man's validation. Theres also a bit of her coming to terms with her own trauma, but I haven't fully fleshed that part out yet.
BEN's arc is probably my favorite. he's lost all his memories of his past life, and now after he accidentally found out he's NOT just a computer AI program, he decides to take it on himself to find out who his family was, how his life was, and how he died. I wont say as much bc I want to keep it a surprise, but in summary it fucks him up LMAO
ok that's it. OBVIOUSLY the rest of the creeps are healing as well BUT I have not fleshed out their stories yet...oops. so its just three for now. Except MUCH more stuff about the trio bc I love them with my all.. if u have any questions feel free to ask :3
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chubypotato · 6 months ago
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When you make crochet for them and people makes fun of it
@hell-hoound for you 🫶🫶 you basically gave me the half of the idea luv u 🫶🫶🫶
Sakura
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You made him a cute little accessories for his jacket. He loves his jacket so much and wear it often so you made something not too much visible but still something.
Even though Sakura won't admit it he really love this accessory it makes him feel like you are with him.
Suo tents to tease him with it but in a friendly way he would often compliments it till the bi color head become red.
But one day someone dared made fun of it said it was ugly and that he shouldn't wear that.
That's it Sakura took it personally like this person just insulted you.
He didn't need anything else to jump on that guy and beat him hard enough he couldn't talk.
No one and he means it no one would ever insult you (even though they just made a bad comment about your crochet.)
He cherish this accessory with his life.
Suo
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You made him a jewelry close enough to looks like his earing but still different. I think you would match it with a bracelet you would wear all the time.
The simple thought you would match with him on something like that or you taking enough time to make him a gift made him fall over you again.
He would wear it every time you are with him or just when he misses you.
When people questioned him about it he just replied that you made it for him. People could feel how proud he was to have you in his life and that you made him that.
One day he was outside doing a patrol with other when a guy started making fun of his earing. Usually he would let it slide but since these one was the one you made him he didn't let that person keep talking that he respond.
He would break this guy emotionally not a single remorse in him. No one should say something about your work only compliments only that.
The guy ended up crying and left running away as far as possible.
The other were just looking at him and swear to never said something about his earing ever not even compliments they were scared.
Kiryu
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You made him a cardigan. Since he loves wear these type of close you thought he would be a good idea to make him one.
You took so much time on it cause well it's really long to make but his reaction worth it to be honest. Boy was so happy he hugged you thight and wear that cardigan as often as possible.
He would be non stop talking about it to the other yapping again and again about how much you are talented and cute and every compliments he could gave you.
One day he was on the street heading to kotoha cafe's with the other talking about the cardigan you made for him to sugushita when a random guy on the street would say it's not even that pretty.
That was too much for him. He tried to keep it cool but he was so pissed of about it.
He went to the guy and made him realised how shitty he was compared to you and that he didn't have 1℅ of your talent. The guy left just like his dignity and ego.
After that Kiryu went back to sugushita telling him how much he loves that cardigan for 50 times of the week.
Nirei
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You made him an accesorry for his hair. You know how much your boyfriend loves mode and putting things on his hair so it was natural for you to make him an accessory about it.
You thought this guy would cry when you gave him. He was so emotional. He would wear it every day.
Once he got to school he would go straight to Sakura and Suo to show them how cute it was. He was so proud of it. He couldn't stop touching it and smile.
One day while you were waiting for your boyfriend you noticed the unusual time he took to comeback to you so you started looking for him.
And you found him. A guy were talking bad about your boyfriend saying hair accesorry do not suit him and to throw it away.
While your boyfriend were like trying to calm the guy by telling not to say that and to not letting hear you that. You were very protective of Nireii.
Too bad you were behind him. You started to be very angry how dare that guy telling bad thing about your precious angel.
You wanted to throw hand so you started to walk straight to the guy but your boyfriend took you away telling you he wasn't worth it.
After that he bought you food and listen to you being very angry at that guy.
Kotoha
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You made her a cute phone accessory and a matching one. It was a tiny things but still really precious to her.
She would not drag it to people but Umemiya wouldn't stop talking about it and saying he wants something like that too. But kotoha stopped him by telling it was a thing between her and you.
One day she was shopping for the cafe's patiently waiting on the line her turn on her phone when a guy starting making fun of her accessory.
Kotoha like the queen she is started to laugh ironically at the guy and telling him that he must be very insecure about himself to make fun of these kind of things.
She even started listing all the things he must be insecure about. When the situation started to curiously make people turn around the guy would left line his dignity.
Once she come back she would give you a big hug with a cute earing for the both of you to match and asked you to teach her how to crochet.
Togame
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You would have made him an accesorry for his glasses. You know how much your boyfriend loves wearing color glasses so one day while he was asleep you take his glasses and crocheting an accessory color matching his glasses.
He was not expecting you to do such a thing and would be so happy. Poor boy would not be used to be cared of like that he is always the one who takes care of everyone.
He would cherish it to much that he would prefer broke his bones instead of this gift.
But one day, one day someone didn't even make fun of the accesorry but of the glasses but Togame took it as it was the same thing.
He would jump on that guy and beat him so hard no one would dared to approach scared by the fact they would end up like that guy.
Later without knowing why you would have a boy on his knees face on the floor begging you for forgiveness.
Choji
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You would have make him a little tiger plush. It is so fluffy so adorable that he took it with him everywhere he just love it so much.
I mean how could he left your child alone at his home that is not good parenting.
Boy would even want to change the gang logo by the plush but you told him he shouldnt do that.
He would always show it to togame and even give him a name.
But one day it was the end of the world someone took his plush someone took your child!
Choji would ask togame to look for it with him. This boy would cry if he doesn't find it. He lost your child what would you say, he would lost the privilege to have it with him.
But he finally found it with some people of the gang making fun of it for no reason.
Choji would push the door asking the guy what they are doing and that they better make they payer now.
He would beat them out to unconsciousness and take their jacket. No one on the gang is allowed to make fun of his child.
Sugushita
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Definitely an accessory for his hair you could see how much they were bothering them when he was looking down so you decided to help him a bit.
Even thought he didn't let his emotion showed you know he enjoyed it since he wears it.
Especially with the fact that Umemiya told him it was cute and we could see how proud he was on his face.
You guys were together on the street having fun and stuff. Especially buying new yarns cause you really wanting to make something.
When boy would have receive a phone call he would go outside to take it when a guy started to make fun of the gift you gave him.
The guy didn't even finished his word that he was already on the floor getting punched by sugushita without even a chance to hit back.
When you get out of the store you told your boyfriend to stopped cause you didn't like to see him fight.
He went back and explained the whole situation to you. He was just defending your honor. You thought it was cute he get angry at such a silly things.
To ask for forgiveness he would make a bracelet for you. It wasn't that cute or well maid but he tried the best he could for you and that all that matters.
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multifariousqueer · 1 year ago
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hey baby, i hope you ok! if u are accepting requests i thinking reader sit on miles face, i know 1610!miles would be so sweet, now 42!miles... idk just late night intrusive thoughts 😩
OMG YESS I’VE BEEN THINKING OF THIS!!!
A/n: Hey y’all. Keep requesting smut fics and as always: IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT, SCROLL TF AWAY. Lmk if I should do more of these
Warnings: smut obvi, cunnilingus, imma try not to put so many warnings so y’all can actually see this post
Sitting on the Miles’ faces headcannons
Our Miles(1610)
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Earth 1610
Definitely loves it fr
At first, you’re scared you’re gonna choke him but he’s adamant you won't
“Miles what if I crush you” “You won’t, I promise"
Those spider genes are strong fr. You feel light as a feather to him but you’re still scared
Makes sure you’re comfortable and willing to stop if needed
That being said, this man is a MUNCH
but he’s a soft munch, yk? He doesn’t do it often but when he does, he ain’t letting up
Contributed his mustache growth to you
Will tongue fuck you fr
holds your hand occasionally when he wants to be closer to you
When you lay back and rest your hands on his thighs let him do his thing as he’s full on eating you out>>>>
Will have you cumming in minutes
I feel like he’s gentle and watches your facial expressions to know if he’s doing good
Will close his eyes and just enjoy your pretty pussy and bask in how lucky he is to have you
“Mmmmm you’re this wet for me, mami?”
Is hard as a rock and he’s dripping precum but he’s so in love with you its worth it
If he feels you get up, he’ll think he did something wrong
“Did I do something wrong?” “No its just I’m close"
His ultimate goal in life is to have his head in between your Lucious thighs
cums at the thought
Thinks you taste like candy
your pussy is his paradise fr.
Will suck on your clit until you’re close and he’ll tongue fuck you
If you reach back and stroke him, he’s in love(more than usual)
When you cum, he swallows it and gulps it loud so you hear
“Mmmmm fuck mami, sabes a caramelo"
Will speak Spanish into your pussy
Goes feral if you run your fingers through his hair
Will def kiss you after and fuck you
Earth 42
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“siéntate en mi cara, mami” “I’m scared that imma drown you or something” “I ain't made of glass. It’s okay"
I feel like he isn’t very good at it at first so you have to guide him
“Mmmmm right there, papi” “fuck, eres tan buena, mi corazón"
Once you tell him where to go and how to do it, you’re hooked
His face is basically made for your face atp
Will speak Spanish into your pussy, just like our miles
Teases you by licking circles around your clit and flicking over it occasionally and when you jump and whimper, he chuckles
"muy sensible, mi vida” “mmm you’re making me feel so good”
you smile and run your hand on his braids and he smirks into your pussy before returning his lips to your clit
when you cum, he will savor that shit
like he will act like he’s eating the best meal ever
“mmmm fuck, mami no puedo vivir sin este coño” “mmm fuckkk papi, you always put it down right
knows he’s the only one who can make you feel this way
will leave your legs shaking 100000%
makes your vision blur once he gets good at eating
has a long tongue and will literally lick your g spot until youre cumming
Doesn’t stop there tho, he will still suck your clit like a ring pop even after you cum
“Papi, I finished” “I didn’t"
Will get pissed if you get up and he will grab your thighs and pull you back down
“Don’t stop me when I’m eating, mami"
You’re a stuttering mess when he’s done
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