#makes sense that they wouldn't want to stay in a frame that did all that. In a frame that was forced upon them

[risuola]

ENTRY #11 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I starve for your touch yet fear to savor it.

contents: arranged marriage!au, nudity, reader discretion is advised — wc. 1690

a/n: there was no way i wouldn't write a fic based on this picture. just no way.

series masterlist

Satoru loves to sleep naked.

The beauty of his innate technique, the blessing that he mastered to no end, has stripped him off one of the most basic human needs — touch. He wasn’t missing it that much, he thought, but there was something in letting go of everything and allowing himself to be wrapped in the silky layers of bedsheets that made his body crave the feeling.

He has always picked expensive garments, the ones with soft fabrics and luxurious feel, despite everyone telling him it’s unreasonable to spend so much on a shirt or a pair of trousers, but to him, it did matter. To him, that was the only thing touching his body when a thin layer of infinity effectively forced everything else back. To Satoru, touch was forbidden, threatening. It was a vulnerability that he, the strongest, couldn’t afford.

But that until he’s met you. Until he’s married you.

You were one of not many people he’s made an exception for. You were able to touch him whenever you wanted because the protective surface of endless matter let you in. Because he himself altered his technique to make you capable of laying your hands on his body.

He longed for your touch. So soft, and delicate, and warm. He craved more of it and yet, despite being shameless and confident, he has not allowed himself to sleep bare even once since the day you and him were bound by the knot of matrimony. It would cross boundaries he wasn’t sure you’d wish to cross; it would make you uncomfortable, awkward maybe — and he liked the way your relationship looked like now. He liked the late evenings you talked quietly, alone and intimate in the warm embrace of sheets and your own house.

For you, he let go of the way he used to sleep before because you were worth the sacrifice, but now, you were gone for few days. You were sent on a mission away from Tokyo and the hours Satoru spent alone in bed, thinking of nothing more but your fingertips on top of his skin, made him desperate — and so, he allowed himself the comfort of soft cotton and silk.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were tired. Exhausted even, by the intense fight you had to pull through, by the uncomfortable nights spent in the dingy hotel room, by the humid weather and rains. In moments like this, there was nothing you envied more in the world than your husband’s ability to warp from one place to another, but you got lucky. Incredibly so, because Ijichi offered you a ride home two days earlier than you were supposed to head back and you thanked all gods and devils for that man’s kindness. He was willing to put on some more road just to get you home.

“Thank you so, so much, Ijichi,” you kissed his cheek — a ghost of a peck that made him all red and steamy and you felt giddy for a moment, seeing the tips of his ears turn crimson. Adorable. You liked him, he was dutiful, polite, trustworthy and constantly terrorized by your husband, so you were determined to at least be the Gojo he likes.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled and fixed the frames on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with the tip of his pointer finger. “Have a good rest.”

“You too, Ijichi.”

Then, he was gone and you were stepping into the house with a deep sense of relief washing over you. Home sweet home. If you were to guess, it was most likely somewhere around 4 am, way too early for anyone to be up — especially your husband — so you gave it your all to stay as quiet as possible. The sun was just showing its first rays from way below the horizon line, crawling up with golden hues and breaking the nightly, navy darkness.

On your toes you moved across the house. It seemed as if Gojo was spending his time alone quite ordinarily — you saw a modest stack of empty takeout boxes, much less humble pile of candy wrappers and his uniform jacket thrown over the couch backrest, along with few other little items that you struggled to differentiate in the nocturnal haze.

You put down your bag, hung up your coat and pushed off the shoes. Ghosting your way towards the bathroom, you were desperate to wash away the combat residuals. You lathered up the shower gel in a rush, desperate to rest and sleep in the comfort of your own bed and then, wrapped in the towel, you tippy-toed to the bedroom, but—

“Came back earlier?”

—you truly didn’t expect to be met with a sight like this. Your husband was awake, just barely, most likely awaken by the water running in the bathroom. His eyes were closed, hidden underneath his forearm and shielded from the lights that were slowly creeping inside, between the dark curtains and onto his face. His body seemed relaxed between the sheets. The softest, gentlest lines of golden glimmer that painted its patterns over his uncovered chest and leg, his hip and one of the muscular arms. The duvet was covering less than half of him, hiding a part of his stomach, the other leg and—

“You’re staring.”

Satoru didn’t even have to look at you to know that your gaze was lingering on his frame. On his very, very naked frame, just barely concealed by the comforter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears and you thanked the darkness for hiding it away. You walked around the bed, hoping to find your pajama where you left it and trying to force your head out of the gutter. You heard your husband letting out a deep exhale and then, a soft hum. His voice was as melodic as always, though you could tell how much sleepiness was laced into it.

Satoru should’ve notice you when you entered the area of your house, but he didn’t. Tired by his own job, by the classes and all of the meetings, he allowed himself to lower his guard and when he realized you’re home, he contemplated for a moment getting up and dressed, but he just didn’t want to.

“You’re exhausted, screw pajamas, just come here,” he said before he managed to think twice about it. It was a daring offer, inappropriate even and he opened his mouth to apologize for it, but then, you rendered him speechless.

Your weight felt good on top of him. You lay your body over his own with feathery gentleness and carefully maneuvered your way to rest on his chest completely. The touch of your skin flush to his own made his brain to short circuit, it felt divine, too good to be true and just so very right, he couldn’t say a word.

“Is that alright?” You asked quietly, pressing your ear right above his heart and letting out a breath that you held for a little too long. Your face felt hot, you were flushed and flustered but also oddly at ease with the current position and you wondered for a moment if it was the tiredness that made you so bold.

“More than that,” he replied, pulling the covers to hide you beneath them. He allowed one of his arms to snake around your waist and his lips to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. Sleep well, wifey.”

“Good night.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

10:19 AM

Satoru thought he was dreaming, but the weight on top of him felt too real. The soft scent of citrusy shower gel that lingered on your skin filled in his lungs each time he took a breath in and there was a tickle, he realized — every time his chest raised, a strand of your hair seemed to be moving against his jawline. You were not a dream.

He opened his eyes, blinking few times, adjusting them to the bright light that forced its way into the bedroom and then, he looked at you. You were still very deep asleep, he could tell based off the long inhales you were taking, slow and relaxed, fanning against his peck rhythmically. Your body was mostly on top of him, you were on his chest, your leg was between his and only your hips were resting on the bed. He still had his arm around you, as if making sure you were as close as possible.

It felt incredible. Intimate. It was everything he could have wished for. A touch, skin to skin, so intense it almost took his breath away. He felt nauseous at the thought, realizing that it’s the first time in his life, he’s that close to someone. So impossibly close that just a little bit more and you’d become a part of him. His heartbeat quickened.

It was so right. So awfully correct and at the same time, so very threatening. He felt helpless. Vulnerable. He was at your mercy, he was robbed of everything what made him the strongest, because at this very moment, he was bare. Uncovered before you, wrapped in an embrace that felt loving, that felt soothing, addicting, but if you only wished to hurt him, you’d—

You moved, shifting your weight a little bit, adjusting the position and the way your hand run down his side made him shiver. A soft sound escaped your throat when you let out a deeper exhale. He felt your fingers squeezing the flesh above his hip and then, you relaxed again.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes, and Satoru held his breath. “Relax…”

And he chuckled. His chest vibrated below your ear and the adorable sound of displeasure you let out made him lose all of the tension. He turned, twisting his body inside your embrace to face you fully and he squeezed you with both of his arms, pulling you close. So impossibly close, and you whimpered, suddenly enclosed in a tight hold of your husband’s limbs. That was it for your sleep.

You could get used to it.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe

[anundyingfidelity]

AFFECTION — Soldier Boy

Summary: During a mission, Soldier Boy receives a hug from you unexpectedly. He likes it.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female supe!reader.

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: canon violence and language, reader is kinda hurted, descriptions of blood and stuff, AU where Ben is working with the team on missions (which is what should've happened on the show btw), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy lmao, Ben and reader are totally opposites and I live for that. Based on this post.

Note: soooo I'm still making some arrangements to my Soldier Boy long fic and instead I have this short drabble in the meantime. Hope you enjoy it hehe.

the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla

(if anyone would like to be added to my tags just tell me^^)

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

You groanned, feeling the hard wall hit against your back. It was hard to believe but you thought probably you wouldn't go out of this alive. Your body ached and not even your strenght could stop this guy.

Fucking Butcher, why did you have to follow him to suicide again? Just a couple of cunts, he said. But he forgot to mention they had a weird improved dosis of V injected.

You fell to the ground as the man walked towards you. He was extremely tall and well-buff. No sense the Compound V on his system made him better, or at least that's what he thought. He was tossed to the ground by your side, and you crawled to the corner of the small room.

The distance was not enough to let you run away. You stayed there, watching Soldier Boy's big frame over the man. He used his shield, beting him to death and destroying his face and neck during the process. You were so damn sure his loud groans of pain would remain on your mind at least for a couple of days.

"Fucking pussy," the old man said, wipping some blood off his face. He got on his feet ungracefully and grabbed his shield back. He turned to look at you, still sitting on the floor. "You okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

He held you a bloody hand, which you took to stand up. There was an akward silence as you and Ben left the small room, you followed him around the dirty basement, filled with lifeless bodies and fluids on the ground, to meet with Butcher and Hughie.

"Guess those were all," Butcher announced.

"I have the remaining dosis," you took the tube from the pocket of your pants and showed them with a smile on your face. "Was the last one."

"Excellent," Butcher grabbed it and tossed it to Hughie, who saved the tube on a bag.

"We made it out, huh," you mumbled.

"Well, we're still down here, so," Hughie shrugged and three pairs of eyes narrowed at him. "What?"

"Just think positively, for once," you pleaded with a fake sharp tone. "Isn't that hard, y'know."

Ben rolled his eyes.

"We're on a fucking shithole, the kid's right. Let's go now before any of you fuck this up," he ordered and passed by between Butcher and Hughie, hitting his shoulder intentionally in the process.

You quickly followed behind his long soldier strides. "Wait!"

Soldier Boy scoffed and closed his eyes slowly only to open them again. You stood on his way with a big smile and wide eyes. Bruises and blood adorned your face and neck, your clothes were also splattered with dry blood and dirt after killing those clandestine stupid supes on an undercover mission at night, and still you acted like nothing had happened. He stood in place, with Hughie and Butcher standing behind expecting what the fuck you'd be doing this time. Sometimes he thought you were so fucking annoying.

"The fuck you want?"

You opened your lips to say something but nothing came out. Once you closed them, you beamed again and closed the distance between him and you. You wrapped your arms around his strong waist and rested your grubby check against his chest. He tensed visibly under your hug and after a moment you pulled away, your hands behind your back with a shy smile. Hughie and Butcher were clearly holding back a good laugh. They knew better not to mock Soldier Boy, not yet though.

Ben blinked a couple of times, trying to process what happened.

"What the fuck was that?"

You giggled. "Affection."

He wrinkled his nose. "Disgusting."

You gasped and faked sadness on your voice. "Why? I was just saying 'thank you for saving my ass'."

"It's fucking nothing," he rolled his eyes and started to walk again to guide the team outside, with the other two men with playful smirks on their faces following behind.

"Ben!" you quickly caught his pace to stand by his side. "Thank you, okay? Probably you don't like physical contact but I do. And this is how I show others that I care about them and that I'm thankful. I also give hugs because I like them and–"

"Shh!" Ben raised his hand, suddenly stopping his tracks by the end of the stairs that'd lead you outside. He turned and looked at you with that grumpy face of his. "I said you're welcome, sweetheart. Now we need to go, you can talk to me about your hugs shit later."

He pointed to Hughie and Butcher. "Now, you, cocksuckers, go up."

Butcher grinned, going first. "Sure, cap."

"You shut up," Soldier Boy warned, Hughie gulped and nodded, and made his way up on the stairs.

You stood there, with a smile on your lips. Always that fucking, idiotic, stupid smile, even after hard missions like the one you just had. It was like if you were the only one who didn't seem scared of him or anything else. Sure, you were a supe and a smart asset on the team. But still, a very peculiar lady through his eyes.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Once Butcher and Hughie were out of sight he finally talked.

"Do it again."

"Excuse me?"

"The stupid hug, do it again."

You raised your eyebrows, eyes bright as you realized his request. "Really?!"

"God, woman. Do I need to fucking repeat my—?"

His words were cut by your strong hug. You crashed against his frame so hard he lost balance for a bit. He was certainly surprised by how warm your hug it actually felt. You angled your eyes to see his face.

"Thanks!"

You let him go and got up the stairs. He barely curved his lips at how happy you climbed them. Yeah, well he actually liked your stupid hugs.

soldier boy / reader

[marilynthornhilllover]

Can you please write rough smut for grey hair Emily Prentiss that’s just… total shameless filth😭 like choking, breeding kinks, semi public sex (in her office)

I could eat that girl for lunch

Emily prentiss x Fem!reader

Warning: smut 18+, breeding kink, semi public sex, breast kink, spitting kink, choking kink, praise kink, mommy kink, one slap, slight cunniligus, fingering, slight strap fucking, etc.

A/N: oh I lost it with this one🤭enjoy sorry it took so long 😭

You knew it was wrong to think of your boss Emily in such a way.... but God damn it. You just couldn't control yourself anymore. I mean come on she's the Emily prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, who wouldn't be obsessed with her, sorry in love with her. She was insufferable, almost irresistible like a drug. The way she would bite her lips when ever she laughed or was focused on something very important.

Or The way she held her hands in her pockets and stood against door frames or leaned against desks. The way her hips would sway whenever she struts down the hallway towards her office and finally, the way she looks at you. The way this woman would look at you was everything. Her eyes, they were always glued to you when you were busy doing your work. She thought you didn’t notice her but gaze detection is a real thing that works.

Emily would stare at you as if she wanted to devour you. And it always made you weak. It made your skin get heated and your mind go dizzy. You couldn’t focus when her eyes were on you, it was as if every cell in you wanted to explde. The time you wore a strapless shirt to work because it was too hot out, and for the entire day she couldn't find the decency to stop her eyes from roaming over your collarbone and shoulders, and the other time you wore a mini skirt and a top that had a zip in the middle that was pulled down just enough to see your cleavage. She went nuts.

Emily knew of your angel face, but she didn’t let that fool her. She knew you had dirty thoughts of her, you even went as far as making a dirty jokes about her. One time she overheard Jennifer asking you if you were to fuck anyone in the office who would you fuck and you had chosen 'Emily'.

You always had a thing for older women, and everyone in the office knew, so maybe it’s obvious that you had quite a massive crush on your boss as well. You heard rumors of Emily being “ talented” with her tongue and “skilled” with her fingers. You did have the privilege to meet one of Emily’s ex-girlfriends at a seasonal greeting event, and by her words “ Emily almost took her out of the world”.

You did try to do your work as best as possible and tried your very hardest to keep out of her way. And for some time it had seemed to work. Emily caught onto the drift and sensed that you were giving her the cold shoulder and the both of you stuck to strictly business and work professional procedures and encounters. But none of this stopped Emily from winking at you from time to time and even going as far as moving you aside by your waist using her hands when you were both in the kitchen getting lunch at the office.

Her hands in your waist sent electric shocks throughout your body, and each time she gave you a sly smirk. You did try to ignore her most of the time. And for a while it lasted.

So tonight you don’t know what possessed you to sneak into Emily’s office. There was a big case that was on the table and it required all hands on deck. You had decided to stay back and help Emily crack some codes but after half an hour in she left. It was pretty late, around 10:38 PM and you were exhausted. Your eyes flicked up to inspect your surroundings because sometimes people break into police departments to steal evidence.

That’s when you saw her that her office light was on and had decided to go turn it off and then after you would finish pack up and then leave . It wasn’t the first time being in her office, but it was the first time alone, by yourself….. with just her stuff. Her jacket was thrown on the back of her chair and a couple of her personal belongings sprawled out on her desk. You had already checked for cameras and any audio devices, there were none. So you took off your pants and panties, shirt and bra leaving yourself completely naked in your boss office.

Absolutely downright crazy, bat shit crazy. You sit in her chair and gently began fingering yourself at a slow pace, but quickly increased it as you became more desperate and needy. Your eyes were tightly shut closed, as your hand worked it’s magic down between your legs. All that can be heard was the wet sounds your cunt was making when you thrusted your fingers in your pussy, your weak hoasty moans and your loud and elaborate breathing as you neared your peak.

Your orgasm washed over you almost knocking you out of the chair and onto the floor causing you to topple over yourself . Your eyes hastily as you swallowed thickly and bit your lips.

“ well” a voice says, half disappointed half surprised. Your eyes snap up towards the entrance of the office to see Emily standing there. Her expression was unreadable. You felt all the blood drain from your face as your entire body freezes with both fear and shame. Emily smirked at you before she took a step into the room, closing and locking the door behind her ( you forgot to close the door?!) . She took slow strides towards the table as she pushed her hands into her pocket.

“ you know I really thought you were just a shy little good girl who knew her worth and knew how to ask for things…. But I guess I was totally wrong wasn’t I?” She asked, carefully walking around the desk, she stopped and stood in a position where she was pressing all her weight on one foot as she titled her head, inspecting you. She chuckled silently and further approached you.

“ could have fooled me babe” she says plainly, she then grabs you by your jaw and forces your face upwards to look at her. Still you remain frozen. A part of you couldn’t believe you had gotten into this situation and another part wanted to curl up into a ball and completely disappear for all eternity, never to be seen again.

“ look at you, I stood there for over 20 minutes, all in which you did nothing but fuck yourself senseless to the thought of me, don’t you see it now y/n your my slut” she says, purring the last two words, that may have reheated something in you because you need her all over again.

“ uh oh, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or did you lose your voice after screaming my name so loud? Oh Emily , fuck yes Emily, fuck me Emily” she mocked you and that’s when a realization of being naked hits you. You were completely bare before this woman. In her own office. Such a shame.

Emily’s eyebrow quirked in amusement as she looked at you shy away from her and look everywhere but into her dark eyes. She took the opportunity to look at your body intensely. With a silent hum her eyes wondered down your chest, stoping to look at your breast and how perked your nipples were. She then moved further down your body and her eyes landed on your vagina, from the way you were sitting she couldn’t see much but just the thought of fucking it got her going.

In one swift moment Emily grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto the desk. You whined at the sudden action and prompted yourself up onto your elbows to remove some objects from behind of your back before you proceeded to lay down. Your legs opened up involuntarily which caused Emily to smirk as she stood between them causing them to spread even wider. Regardless of your previous orgasm you were already so desperate for this woman’s touch.

Emily took off her jacket and soon everything else went with it. She was bare in just her pants alone. You wanted her to remove it but you were too mesmerized by her stern breast to give a shit. Her pants were high waisted but allowed you to see her toned abs a little. God you wanted her so badly. Your shaking hands made their way up to her skin and you gently placed your hand on her abs admiring them, god she must work out real good. For a moment you thought that you were lost in heaven until you felt her remove your hand.

“Getting touchy now are we? That’s slutty behavior” she laughed, she loved teasing you and seeing you squirm beneath her. This wasn’t the first time Emily had you under this choke hold. There were many other times where she was able to get under you skin….. but those are stories for another time. She leaned down and hovered her lips over your mouth, contemplating if she should give into you or let you go crazy over her some more. Even though Emily could see the pleading look in your eyes she knew better than to give the devil what she wanted.

Emily chuckled as she removed a strand of hair from your already sweaty forehead to behind your ear. Her hand stayed there, behind your neck, for a while her grasp tightening every few seconds which caused you to release a quiet moan from your throat. Emily looked down at you in deep thought before her eyes flicked down to your lips. Her thump caressed your jaw for a little while before she spoke.

“ open your mouth” her request definitely caught you off guard but the way she said it made your thighs clench but you remember that she was laying between them, making it hard to do so. You looked up at her confused as your breathing got shallow. You gulped and did as she asked. For a while she did nothing but then she opened her mouth and slowly poured her saliva into your mouth.

You were a little disgusted because back in high school you were always the one to say that you’d never allow anyone to do this to you but things have changed, it’s Emily fucking prentiss. Sorry. It’s mommy. And something about this just turned you on more because you could feel the slick that was pooling between your thighs from your pussy. Emily stopped and watched you close your mouth. She gave you a look and you knew what she was asking without words. You swallowed. She then started kissing you. It was rough but slow at the same time, she made you feel as though you had all the time in the world.

She broke the kiss before you even had a chance to deepen it as she moved down to your breast. She left pecks all across your chest, small sucks and bites that will most definitely leave marks later on, not that you care. She continued her assault until she moved down to your nipple. She swirled her tongue around the small bud first before she looked up at you with mischievous eyes before then enveloped the entire bud into her mouth. Your head fell back and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to just feel. She abused the small bud by gently biting it and sucking on it like a baby enjoying your moans.

Her hand fondled with the other neglected breast as the other made it’s s way down to your pussy, Emily knew you weren’t paying attention to her works so without notice she carefully pulled your lace pink panties to the side and inserted two fingers at the same time without warning. Your back arched as your eyes rolled back. Your hands immediately flew to the edge of the table for support. Emily smirked and released your nipple with a ‘ pop ’ sound as saliva made a bridge from her mouth to the bud to which she broke by licking her lips.

“ that’s it baby, just like that? You like when mommy gives you what you want without you having to ask her?” You couldn’t even respond to her, your mind was clouded with her insufferable praises, perfume and god did her fingers do a number on you. Everytime her digits slid out of you and back in her lips twitched. The sound of your cunt squelching against her fingers and your petty moans and grunts as your body began to spams made Emily want to do more despicable things to you until you couldn’t walk.

“ fuck so good, this is squeezing my fingers so fucking good baby, I wish I had a fucking real cock to split you open with, get you pregnant with my babies, you’d like that huh?” She whispered, increasing her pace as she curled her fingers deeper into you cunt, touching your g-spot every few seconds as she buried her fingers knuckle deep into you. You could feel your skin heat up as a familiar feeling of pleasure built up within your lower abdomen. Your hips bucked up towards every thrust of her fingers as your hand grabbed her wrist to slow her actions, you wanted to last longer to prove to her that you weren’t just some cum hungry slut. But that would be pointless because you are just a cum hungry slut.

But with her praises and her fingers moving at the speed of light it was truly impossible. You tried to pull it off a little longer but you couldn’t.

“ I feel you clenching me so tight baby, let it go for mommy, I wanna feel you drench my fingers so bad baby” she purred in your ear, her breath hot against your skin, and with that sentence you came for her. You eyes rolled back and you could feel your juices pouring out of you and onto her fingers. Emily kept fucking you drawling out every whimper, twitch and cry that you had to give. You were completely dumbstruck and spiraling.

You felt as she withdrew herself from between your legs as the sound of her jeans being removed. You stayed there trying to catch your breath. You looked down to Emily and that’s when you see her pulling off her pants completely, a strap around her waist. It was a clear light purple with small glitter pieces in it and it was huge. Without even realizing you tried to back away from her but Emily was two steps ahead, catching onto what your intentions were she pulled you back down by your ankles and forced your legs apart.

Emily placed her hands under your knees and pushed them up above your chest. You’ve never seen any strap that big or long and you anticipated how well she’d fuck you with it for your first time. It was as if you became a virgin again.

“ why are you running now darling? You wanted mommy to fuck you so badly when you were in here all by yourself. Your gonna take it like a good girl now” her tone was so dark and seductive it made your skin crawl and your insides burn with desire.

She pinned your hands above your head and slowly sank the tip of her cock into you forcing a moan out of you. Your eyes slammed shut as you tried to focus on the stretch, the way she made the pain and the pleasure mix so good. She let loose of your hands and gently started choking you. The deeper she buried herself within you the more your eyes would roll back and your legs would quiver. You desperate pleas of moans and cries filled the room as Emily started thrusting into you with full force. Deep and fast the tip bruising your sweet spot every time.

Emily angled her hips ever so slightly, just enough to push her cock up against your cervix. Gently at first, but when she heard the mewl that escaped your mouth at her action and the way your body convulsed it became rougher each time. You trembled as she kept thrusting into you.

“ oh— oh GOD— Emily please, fuck I can’t TAKE IT ANYMORE” you cried but it fell on death ears. You tried to close your thighs to eliminate how well her cock drives into you but Emily’s grip on your neck made you mind mush. Continuing your attempt you tried to move away from her but that resulted in you getting a hard smack across your face as she choked you much rougher. Her nails digged into the flesh out your waist as she started pounding your pussy brutally whispering insults that you couldn’t quite hear due to your moans and the sound of her thighs connecting with your slick.

“ fuck that’s it, right there? Mhm? Right fucking there” she cooed as she pushed your legs further apart and circled her hips as she made her thrust more curved. Your body began to tremble and Emily chuckled as she looked down at the white circle ring around her cock. She felt as your body tensed up and you let out a pornographic moan of her name. She kept thrusting after you came until you whined and pushed her away with a hand on her abs. She pulled out and kneeled down eye level with your cunt.

She cleaned up the mess with her tongue. Cautiously sucking and pulling at your clit until you pushed her head away. She smiled at her work and at herself and looked up at you. Your chest raised and fall with every breath you took and your thighs were still shivering. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before whispering.

“ round two? We’ve got all night and I’m sure i recall you saying your flexible….”

[crookedteethed]

18+ - mdni

ᥫ᭡. kook! jj, who can't keep his dick to himself.

warning: toxic!jj, cheating, public sex (fingering), language

You sighed, watching JJ flirt shamelessly with yet another woman at the Country Club bar. His pearly whites flashed as he leaned in close, whispering something that made her giggle. You rolled your eyes, sipping your martini.

A familiar pang of jealousy twisted in your gut, but you pushed it aside. This was nothing new. JJ had always been a player, even back when you first met him. You'd known exactly what you were getting into.

Still, you couldn't help but wonder why you stayed.

Maybe it was the way his khakis and Polo hugged his athletic frame, or how his cologne lingered tantalizingly whenever he brushed past. Or perhaps it was the thrill of being with someone so desired, knowing you were the one he came home to at the end of the night.

As if sensing your gaze, JJ glanced over and winked. Damn him and that roguish grin. Your anger melted away as he excused himself and sauntered back, sliding onto the barstool beside you.

With a sinister smirk, he leaned in close and whispered, "Did you miss me, gorgeous?" His hand slid up your thigh with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Despite your anger, JJ's touch ignited a fire within you that you couldn't resist.

Your mind raced as he brushed the hem of your skirt, reminding you of all the times he had bought you gifts to win you over. But this time, his touch felt like a threat, like a possessive mark left on your body.

"This a cute piece," he taunted, pulling at the fabric possessively,

"Did I buy you this cute little number?"You could feel yourself weakening under his manipulative hold and hated yourself for still wanting him despite everything he had done.

You tried to push away the memories, but they flooded back as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

"I can tell your side piece over there can't get enough of you," you growled, nodding towards the girl JJ had been cozying up to, who was now frantically scanning the room for him.

"She ain't missing me, she's just craving my dick. I've already had her once--" he says casually, as if it means nothing.

"When?" you interrupt, your jealousy fueling your words. But deep down, you already know the answer and it makes your stomach churn with disgust.

"I don't know." Jay shrugs. " A week or so ago? Two weeks ago, maybe." He casually said, as if it means nothing.

Your blood boils and you feel sick to your stomach.

"You're such a pig," you spit out, unable to contain your disgust any longer. With a heavy heart, you stand up and walk away, unable to bear being near JJ any longer. But of course, he follows behind you, trying to make excuses or apologies that fall on deaf ears.

"Hey, come on, don't be like that," Jay's voice echoes after you, his footsteps pounding against the linoleum floors as he rushes to catch up. "I was just being honest."

You spin around, seething with rage as you lock eyes with him. "Honest? You're supposed to be loyal to me, Jackson, but instead you're out here screwing other women behind my back?" Every word drips with venom as you advance towards him, ready to unleash your pent-up fury.

"Sweetheart, come on." JJ tries to smooth things over in his suave manner, glancing around the deserted hallway before pulling you closer by your hips. "You know I love you, right? You're my everything."

JJ's face may have been a replica of his mother's flawless beauty, but his father's manipulative nature runs through his veins like a toxic poison.

The mere thought of Groff's influence on him ignites a fierce rage within you, intensifying as you feel JJ's hand creeping up your skirt once again--this time his fingers exploring the delicate lace of your panties. You can sense his intent, and it sends shivers down your spine as you struggle to contain the boiling fury inside you.

"You know I wouldn't intentionally hurt you, baby." His words do little to calm the storm brewing inside you as he looks at you with those soft, doe-like eyes--damn him--just as his palm cups your throbbing sex.

A moan escapes your lips as his cool Signant Ring presses against your engorged clit.

"Jay, we can't do this here," you hiss, turning your head to scan for any onlookers.

"Who says we can't?" He counters, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Your senses are heightened as your eyes dart around, searching for prying eyes or gossiping villagers. The thought of being caught only intensifies the thrill coursing through your veins.

"Jay, please," you mewl, feigning resistance, though your hips betray you by arching closer to his touch. His lips curve into a smirk, knowing how deeply his ministrations affect you. He uses this knowledge ruthlessly as he presses down on your sweet spot with just enough pressure to have your toes curling in your heels.

"No one's looking," he whispers in your ear, his voice low and velvety, just as his fingers slipped beneath the silk of your panties. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your bare skin.

As JayJay's skilled fingers continued their exploration, your mind clouded over with desire. The combination the warmth of the room, and the knowledge that you could be discovered at any moment only served to heighten your arousal. You gripped the wall, desperate for support as sensation after sensation washed over you.

Suddenly, he slipped a single finger inside of you, and you couldn't help but moan louder this time, Smitten by lust, you didn't care. All that mattered was the delicious friction between your legs, the expert way his fingers moved in and out of you, plundering your depths with practiced ease.

As JayJay added a second finger, stretching you open even further, every ounce of resentment and jealousy you harbored vanished into thin air.

The smooth, probing digits hitting all the right spots within you, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your entire body. All that mattered in that moment was the exquisite sensations building up inside of you, demanding release.

That bitch at the bar, JJ's insufferable bragging about their sexual conquests—none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was the overwhelming need to come on JayJay's fingers, right there in the dimly lit corridors, far away from prying eyes but close enough to tease with the risk of getting caught.

The silence around you was deafening, broken only by the wet sounds of arousal escaping as Jay fingers pumped faster into your cunt, his blue eyes never leaving your face.

JJ could feel the tight grip of your pulsing pussy around his fingers, a clear indication that you were on the brink of ecstasy. He knows that if he can make you gush and lose control, you will forget about everything else - him, the girl at the bar, and any other thoughts that may have been occupying your mind.

JayJay added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, his thumb circling your clit as he began a relentless assault on your most sensitive spots. The wall behind you felt like the only thing keeping you grounded as your senses swam with lust and need. His gaze bored into yours, his smirk widening as he witnessed the effect he had on you. You were open and vulnerable in more ways than one.

The corridor spun dizzyingly around you, but all you could focus on was the pleasure building up inside you, coiled tighter and tighter as JayJay continued his expert ministrations. Your moans became louder, more desperate, and you didn't care who heard or saw anymore. All that mattered was reaching the peak that was so close yet so far away.

"That's it, baby," he cooed. "Let it all out f'me."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. JayJay's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level.

"J-JayJay," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close…"

He leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "Then come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart."

That was all it took. With a cry that echoed through the corridor, you came undone around his fingers. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking as JayJay worked you through your orgasm. He held you steady, his free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright as you rode out the high.

Jay’s lips curled into that devilish smirk—a signature of his, one that both thrilled and infuriated you. His fingers, slick with evidence of your surrender, brushed against your thigh as he slowly retreated, deliberately leaving a trail of heat in their absence. His blue eyes bored into yours, darkened with triumph and something more primal, something that left your knees trembling.

And just like that, JJ had you again in his magnet tar pit trap.

As JJ removed his fingers from your panties and brought them to your lips, coating your mouth in your own juices, savoring the sweet, musky taste of arousal. His eyes locked with yours, a challenge dancing in their depths.

"Taste yourself," he said, his voice low and commanding. Your cheeks flushed red, but the arousal coursing through your veins overpowered any last shreds of modesty.

Slowly, you parted your lips and closed them around his fingers, lapping up every drop of your essence. Your heart pounded in your chest as your tongue swirled around his digits, a sultry dance of your submission and desire.

JJ had treated you like shit, you knew, your friends knew, even JJ himself knew, yet you couldn't help the craving that swelled within you for him—a craving to be claimed, to be marked, to be his in every way that mattered.

as always, reblogs and comments keeps me motivated. 🫶��

[candylix]

a functioning member of society | han jisung

Pairing • Jisung x GN!Reader

A/N • This takes place during the events of another series called one little lie. This can be read as a stand-alone fic, but some parts will make more sense with the context of one little lie. (The reader is not the same person as in oll!)

Summary • Jisung is sick at home... or at least, that's what he tells his boss. Really, he just wants to sleep in and hang out with his cute neighbor across the hall. However, less time working means more time fighting the thoughts in his brain.

Genre • smut (with feelings!)

WC • 3k

Content • no pronouns used but the reader does have a vagina, making out, fingering, oral (reader receiving), jisung has issues

Jisung shot up from his bed. He looked at the digital clock on his bedside table; it was 12:54.

He was late.

He had everything planned for today. He woke up early and called in sick to work, just so he could stay home. He was going to sleep in until 11, eat breakfast, make himself look good, and then pay his neighbor a visit across the hall. You invited him over to 'hang out' at noon, and he didn't want to miss it. Unfortunately, he forgot to set his alarm, and he hoped you wouldn't think he's the worst fling ever.

He scrambled to change out of his pajamas.

He might kill himself if he ruined this, like he'd done so many times with so many people in the past. There's only so much a dumb joke and a cute smile can resolve.

You moved in a few months ago, and ever since then, he'd been looking for excuses to see you more. You were gorgeous, fun, smart, and to be honest, way out of his league. He didn't know how he did it, but his boyish charm captivated you enough to have a one night stand. Which turned into a two night stand, and then you just started having casual sex every once in a while.

Maybe one day he'd want something more, and he could certainly see himself falling for you in the future. You were, quite honestly, a perfect match for him. You actually liked his personality instead of just tolerating it, and you were respectful of his boundaries when he avoided more personal questions. The sex was good, but your friendship was better, and for now, this was enough. Whether or not his feelings would grow, he liked to live in the moment- and in this particular moment, he was very late.

He knocked on your door, and when you didn't answer fast enough, he knocked again. Were you ignoring him? Did you get tired of waiting and leave?

He finally heard the door unlocking, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He stood leaning one hand against the door frame, trying his best to look cool, calm, and collected. Unbeknownst to him, his messy hair stood up on end and his shirt was half-buttoned and half-collared, and when you finally opened the door, he gave the impression that he just woke up.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you said, and your fingers combed through his hair, smoothing it down to look more presentable.

"I wasn't sleeping... I was just sick." He faked a cough, a purposefully unconvincing performance.

"Ew, go home then," you laughed. You lightly shoved him, and he dramatically staggered back.

"How dare you! Do you know how hard it was for me to get here?" he asked, knowing full well his door was three feet behind him. "I had to climb uphill, both ways, in the snow, barefoot, just to see you."

You looked down. He was wearing pink fuzzy slippers.

"Just get in here," you said, and opened the door wider to let him in.

You barely had time to close the door before he pulled your face towards his own. His lips met yours, and he pressed himself into your body. He couldn't keep his hands to himself, and you felt the ghost of his fingertips all over your back, until they finally found purchase in your hair. His tongue slipped over your soft lips, asking for entrance, and you gladly parted them for him.

Your back met the door as he pinned you against it. You cupped his cheeks, melting deeper into the kiss, and soft moans passed between his lips. He rolled his hips into yours, hungry for as much contact as possible.

Suddenly, you heard something. It sounded like... creepy carnival music.

He pulled away from the kiss.

"Sorry, that's my phone. My friend is calling me," he said, no attempt to turn it off or indication of how ridiculous this situation was. Knowing him, this was probably in his top 10 most normal things to happen while making out.

"What... why is that that ringtone?"

"One day he pissed me off and I changed his ringtone, and then I just never put it back," he explained. "He hates it, but I kind of find it endearing now, like my nightmare clown friend is calling."

The music continued to play, creepy music box melody haunting the room while sinister laughter faded in and out. You couldn't believe this is the man you invited over.

"Aren't you gonna pick up?"

He took his phone out of his pocket, and threw it across the room, landing on your couch and bouncing across the cushions.

"But it's so far..." he said, weakly raising his arm out towards the couch, as if the phone was barely out of reach.

He cupped your face, and went in for another kiss, but you struggled to kiss back. The music completely killed the vibe. You tried to get back into the mood, your hand finding its way into his hair, but his phone was too distracting.

It's only when his hand reached between your thighs that you're finally able to forget about it. You don't know when it stopped, because your mind was consumed with his tongue in your mouth and his hand on your cunt. It clouded over with thoughts of Jisung and his body, and it wasn't until he picked you up and carried you half way to your room that you came back to reality.

His mouth was still pressed against yours when he laid you down on your bed. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, not wanting him to go. You were too addicted to the taste of his tongue, and when he broke away for air, you chased his lips back onto your own. You could tell he felt it too, with the way the hard bulge in his pants pressed against you when he leaned further in.

He was finally able to part from you, and he peppered kisses over your nose, cheeks, chin, where ever he could reach. He lowered himself down your body, kissing you over your clothing, until his head reached your crotch. He wasted no time pulling down your pants. He licked your core over the wet spot in your underwear, savoring the taste of your arousal for him.

Maybe you would've been like this for just anybody, wet and excited for a touch, but he wanted to think this was especially for him. He didn't care if you fucked other people- that would be hypocritical, considering he'd fuck anyone that asked- but he did look forward to seeing you the most, and he hoped you at least felt that way too.

He nestled deeper into your clothed cunt, nose pressed into you, just to stall until you couldn't take it anymore. You whimpered his name, asking for him to do anything, to please touch you, and the sound of you begging for him was like a sweet melody that he never wanted to stop listening to. You liked him, you wanted him, you needed him.

"You're that desperate for me, huh?"

He finally gave in, and pulled your underwear down your legs, stuffing it into his pocket.

If there was one thing Jisung liked, it was the way you reacted when he licked up your folds, lapping up your juices and seeing you squirm. Both his heart and his dick throbbed seeing you get this worked up because of him.

Words could be deceitful. He was painfully aware of this. His thoughts haunted him when he was alone.

But when your fingers combed through his hair, pushing his face closer to your core, those thoughts vanished. He knew, at least right now, you wanted him here. Words could deceive, but actions under the influence of pure pleasure didn't lie.

He inserted one finger, slowly pumping in and out while his tongue flicked over your clit. He licked and sucked, tongue poking down into your hole, savoring the way his name spilled out of your lips. You rocked into his face, needing every inch of him on your pussy, and he happily obliged. He licked a long stripe up your cunt, making you gasp, and he pulled out his finger to tease your entrance. You were soaking wet, and by the way you clenched around the empty space where he once was, he could tell you were desperate for more.

He pushed his finger back into you, a second finger joining this time. His thrusts were faster, and he loved the way you moaned in pleasure when he curled his fingers. Your bucking became more frantic, and he met your desire by sucking on your clit.

You could feel your orgasm building up as his fingers rubbed into you harder. He forced them into you, completely filling you up until he reached his knuckles, before pulling them out and pushing them back in again. You twitched wildly in pleasure, and he had to hold you down with his free arm just to keep licking your folds and circling your clit.

You were trapped under him, unable to grind into his face at the extreme pleasure you were feeling, and he gave you no respite either. He inserted a third finger into you, stretching your walls while he kept pumping into you, and when he pressed a sensitive bundle of nerves, you could feel your climax coming quicker. You barely had time to think before it came gushing out of you, a loud moan of Jisung's name being the only warning he got before his fingers were drenched in your cum.

He pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, lapping up your juices from inside and out. Not a single drop went to waste.

All he wanted was to pleasure you. Maybe if he made you feel good every time he came over, you'd keep calling him. Maybe you wouldn't get tired of him, like so many others did when they stopped finding his jokes charming for seemingly no reason at all. At least with you, he knew how you liked to be touched.

He didn't want to feel like his friendship was transactional, but how could he not. Everyone found him annoying eventually. It was inevitable.

He didn't want this to end. He was scared. When you caught your breath, would you expect him to go?

"Jisung," you called, snapping him out of a spiral you didn't know he was having. You patted the bed next to you, and he hesitantly climbed in.

Why was it that the more time he spent with you, the worse his thoughts became? It was like his brain couldn't accept a reality where you enjoyed his company, even though you were the one that invited him over in the first place. It made up excuses to explain how this could be happening; you probably just liked sex and he was the only one available, or you just felt sorry for him and somehow this was all you could think of.

You cupped his cheek, looking into his eyes to bring him back to earth. He pushed those thoughts aside as best as he could, and snuggled into your arms.

"Are you alright?" you asked. "You looked a bit distracted right now."

"Oh, uh, just thinking about how sexy you are.

He wanted you to smile, forget about your concern, but a look he can't quite place flashed across your face. It went away just as quickly, but he can't help but read into it.

Was that pity? Disappointment? Worry?

Was there a difference?

He wished he could open up to you, especially after something as vulnerable as sex, but he didn't know how to break down that barrier that kept his anxieties to himself.

"How was I?" he asked softly, and as if he was afraid of being genuine, he added "Was that the best sex you've ever had or what?"

"You were amazing," you said, and a bit of tension eased up in Jisung's body.

"Avoiding the second question, I see."

"Maybe if you used this," you said, and your fingers move to trace the bulge in his pants.

A sudden rush of nerves washed over his body, and he realized just how hard he was. He was so distracted by his own turmoil that he didn't even notice the way his cock throbbed in his boxers.

"I will if you promise to invite me over again," he said, winking at you.

"Of course I will, you don't even have ask," you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It wasn't obvious to him.

His heart beat in his chest. Maybe, just this once, he'd believe it.

His body reacts on its own, leaning in to kiss you. It was soft and sweet, an unspoken 'thank you' that he wasn't prepared for.

It's over just as quickly as it began, breaking away to snuggle into your chest.

And then his stomach growled. He didn't eat breakfast because he slept in, and he didn't eat lunch because he was late. He hoped you didn't hear it, but he knew you had to have. Maybe you had some granola bars he could snack on. He could check in the fridge, maybe you could eat together in the living room, make a fun moment out of it...

The living room. Where his phone was. Because he threw it there when he got a call.

He should probably see what Minho needed... but he was so warm and cozy. He didn't want to leave the bed, and he definitely didn't want to leave you. But he really should.

"Hey, remember when my clown friend called?"

You winced, remembering the creepy music that almost completely ruined the mood.

"No, I don't remember. I'm choosing not to."

"You don't remember this?" he asked, before singing the ringtone, followed by menacing laughter, cut off when you covered his mouth to get him to stop.

His creepy laughter turned into giggles as he tried to pry your hands off his face.

He finally did, holding both your wrists in his hands.

"Should I go call him back? The circus might be in trouble..." he said, and then sunk his head deeper into the mattress, "but it's so nice here..."

"You probably should," you replied, and Jisung groaned.

"Ugh, fine."

He pushed himself up, leaving the comfort of your bed and the warmth of your body. He walked out of your room, turning his head repeatedly to give you his sad puppy dog eyes. You shooed him away, and he finally left for the living room. His phone was still on the couch, face down and waiting for him to rescue it.

One new voicemail. Press 1 to play.

"Jisung, call me back ASAP. It's an emergency."

"Oh, shit."

He called Minho back, and he immediately picked up.

"Oh thank god," Minho sighed.

"What happened!?"

"Ok... don't laugh."

Of course, as soon as he heard what Minho had done, Jisung erupted into a full body laugh.

He hadn't noticed you enter the living room, but you couldn't help but be curious after what you heard.

"Yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can," Jisung said, and he heard Minho sigh in relief. "But I wouldn't worry about her. Trust me, I've known her waaaaay longer than you. She'll be fine."

The conversation didn't last much longer, Jisung promising to be there 'as soon as he finished some important documents', and hanging up.

"Are you leaving?" you ask. "I was going to get you some food."

The way you looked at him, sad to see him possibly go... maybe he should've felt his heart break seeing you like that, but instead his heart swelled. You didn't want him to leave, you didn't just want him for sex and nothing else.

"Well... if you're offering food..." he said, and your face lit up. You body language was expressive, and he noticed it every time.

He knew words could be deceiving, but your actions always told the truth. He would always have thoughts about how people perceive him, if they really liked him or not, if they would leave if he became 'too much'... but with you, he wanted to trust you. He chose to trust you, even if his brain screamed the opposite.

"Nah, I'd stay regardless," he said, "he thinks I'm at work anyway, so I can spend more time here, if you want."

"That's why I invited you over, isn't it?"

If only he could express the warm tingly sensation that ran through his body when he heard those words. He felt butterflies in his stomach, something he hadn't experienced since high school.

He was going to ignore what that could possibly mean for him.

Time passed, you enjoyed your time together, but he thought it was finally time to go rescue his friends. You walked him to the door, and hugged him goodbye.

You pulled away, and that's when you see it.

"Is that my underwear in your pocket?"

"Huh?" he looked to his pocket, and sure enough, white fabric was spilling out. "Oh... whoops! How did that get there? Must've crawled in when I wasn't looking." He pulled it out and shoved it into your hand.

"You know what? Keep it. You obviously want it more than me," you said, stuffing it right back into his pocket.

He was definitely going to use that later.

"If you say so," he said. He turned to leave, but you grabbed his arm to say one more thing.

"Just... when you're done, please wash it and give it back."

He gasped, and his hand clasped his chest in mock offense.

"I would never do something so uncouth-"

"Jisung. Wash it. It was expensive and I want it back."

"Ok, ok, I will," he said, and smirked. "You want me back here that bad, huh?"

You roll your eyes.

"You're lucky you're cute."

He finally left your apartment, and when the door closed behind him, he felt twice as light as when he came in.

taglist: (using the same taglist as one little lie since it's a spinoff, hope you all don't mind!)

@loeyscock @0325tiny @5starlee @miupow @mapofthemazeinthemirror @sadrosessing @luminouskalopsia @minghaosimp @curiousgworge @azuna-sz @piscesrising01 @g-bbzz @extrhotjne @nabi-tokoshi@kpopsstuffs

@weareapackofstrays @jabmastersupriseee @neko-squidblog @lurking-coconut @kiaralynn3838

@chanssmiles @linos-kitten @jehhskz @stanskzot8 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ell0thebell

@hinalara @kaicreech @lazybean246 @idoughnutreadsmut @aeliuss

@the-ninth-moon @poody1608

[rosepetalsinwinter]

Five Years That Felt Like a Millenium — Bucky Barnes

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x reader

Word count: 9,554

Summary: It’s been five years since Thanos snapped his fingers. Five years spent all alone. Now Sam is back and he has a new friend. Will Bucky be the one to uncover the secrets behind the bruises lining her body?

Warnings: illusions and mention of violence, abuse, manipulation, and cheating. Nothing explicit. Protective!bucky.

Note: It's been a while since I've posted. Here's a little slice to get you going before I continue with "Meant to Be." Hope you enjoy! 💜

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Happy reading!!

"Sammy!" A figure barrelled into Sam Wilson, almost making the five-foot-ten man topple over.

The girl's arms wrapped tightly around his bulky frame, hanging on for dear life. Her tears soaked his shirt, and her nails dug into his biceps almost painfully, but he said nothing. He only hugged her back with as much vigour and passion, letting his salty tears mix with hers.

Although no time had passed for Sam, years had passed for the girl—five to be exact—and he could feel all her emotions pouring out of her like a dam broken loose.

"Sammy!" she sobbed while her body shook violently. "You're back!"

"I've been back." Sam stroked a hand over the girl's hair, offering her comfort. "I've been here. Where were you?"

The first thing Sam did after he was blipped back to life was to call his sister, Sarah. Only to be told that five years had come and gone. His nephews, who were babies when he left, were now little men. The second thing Sam did was ask about Baby Girl.

He remembered when he first met her. Her family moved to the bayou when she was just five; Sam was fifteen. When her parents died, Sam's family took her in as their own, giving her the same amount of love they gave their other two kids.

So he was surprised, then, to find that Sarah hadn't heard from her in almost two years. Sam, himself, had no luck in locating her until recently. It took him eight months, but he finally found her. She had moved to New York and cut all ties with previous friends and family.

Sam wanted to ask why. Why leave Sarah and the boys? Why leave the only home she ever knew? His questions could wait, though. Now that she was here, he wouldn't ever let her go.

"Hey, Baby Girl," Sam shushed her when she sobbed louder, "I'm here. I'm not leaving again. Promise."

So fascinated by how she had aged from an awkward teen on the precipice of adulthood into a beautiful young woman, Sam did not notice the bruises lining her sides and underneath her clothes—or the circles under her eyes—from almost two years of interrupted sleep. Or the absence of light in her usually glowing irises.

When she let her entire weight fall on Sam and sobbed as she had when her parents died, he did not question it, only held on tighter and carried her towards the house.

"I've got you now, Baby Girl. Everything is gonna be just fine."

While he did not explicitly say anything, Bucky Barnes found the Wilson Family Residence quite endearing. His house in the thirties had been small, and even his current apartment in Brooklyn was compact—which he liked—but there was something so serene about the land surrounding the Wilson residence, so very peaceful.

After ninety years of constant fights, one after the other, all Bucky really wanted was some peace and quiet. And now, he could easily find it after absolving himself of most of the guilt he was carrying.

It wasn't easy, but Bucky told Yori the truth about his son's death and since then, had managed to cross a few more names off his list of amends. A weight lifted off Bucky's shoulders as everything began to make sense.

The Flag Smasher's fiasco was over with, and while the Powerbroker was still at large, there was no immediate threat. Bucky Barnes could rest for now before trouble found him again—as trouble often did. Sam had asked Bucky to stay over for the long weekend, and Bucky had happily obliged.

"It'll be good for you. Get away from that city life."

Bucky agreed. If all went well, he might end up buying his own house. He had a little... calm in Wakanda, and he missed the solidarity.

The axe was steadfast in his hands as he brought it down towards his target, and the sturdy stump was no match for the combined strength of both, the sharp tool, and Bucky's enhanced strength. In one meagre swing, half the stump broke off and landed on the ground with a muffled thump.

Bucky wiped the sweat off his brow with his right arm. It was the middle of June, and while the days were sweltering hot and sticky, the nights could get cold in comparison. Sam had tasked Bucky to get the logs for the fire, seeing as he was the most efficient.

Bucky continued with his work until he got a steady rhythm, stopping periodically to sip his still cold beer. It was then that his enhanced hearing picked up on the strangest sound. He perched the axe on his left shoulder and looked towards the house where Sam Wilson seemed to be consoling a crying girl.

"Huh." Bucky didn't find the exchange as odd as he should have. Everyone around the bayou was always coming to Sam for something. Whether it was a favour, or a shoulder to cry on. Bucky thought she must be someone special if he was hugging her like that.

When Sam took the girl into the house, Bucky shook his head and finished the last of his beer. He continued chopping more wood until the sun began to set, which is when he deposited the axe back into the shed and made his way inside to crash on the couch. Tomorrow would be a long day, what with the bonfire Sam was hosting, and all. Bucky fell to a dreamless sleep the second his head touched the pillow.

He was a light sleeper. So Bucky immediately woke up when he heard someone coming down the stairs. It took him a second to become aware of his surroundings, as it always did. He was in Louisiana, crashing on Sam's couch for the weekend.

Bucky turned his head to the left to see who it was. Probably the boys; they were early risers and loved pestering Bucky about his metal arm—not that he minded. He found their interest refreshing and loved putting a smile on their faces. He was surprised, then, to find a girl instead. The same one from yesterday.

Huh. The girl looked a mess, with only half her hair pulled back into a makeshift ponytail and black makeup smudged under her eyes. Her pants were unbuttoned, hanging precariously from her hips, and her jacket was falling off her shoulders, a few sizes too big. She was holding a pair of shoes in one hand, her phone and shirt in the other. She was also balancing a purse in the crook of her elbow.

It was the shirt that did it. Because, while the girl's own blouse was in her hands, she was wearing Sam's grey-green T-shirt. Bucky knew because that's what Sam was wearing yesterday. She was someone special then if she was wearing his clothes.

Bucky smirked. He was very aware of what the girl had been doing. He, himself, had been on both ends of the situation before. Though it was very long ago, he still remembered the embarrassment of being caught leaving a girl's room in the early hours of the morning.

The girl screamed when she saw Bucky, not expecting anyone to be up, much less lying on the couch and watching her horrible attempt at sneaking out. "Oh, God!" Her phone slipped from her grasp and landed on the floor with a loud clatter.

There was a moment of silence where the two merely stared at each other. Bucky, with poorly concealed amusement, and the girl, with mild horror. She moved first, crouching down to pick up her cracked phone.

"Does it still work?" Bucky's voice was raspy from disuse. When tears gathered in the girl's eyes as a reply, Bucky immediately sat up, dropping his amusement in exchange for concern. He knew nothing about her, but it seemed like she cried a lot.

"No," she murmured, though Bucky heard her as if she were beside him. "Oh, God. No, no, no, no, no..."

"Hey, it's alright," Bucky told her as he crouched down to pick up the purse she had thrown in her haste. He hesitated when he saw a shiny ring peeking out from one of the compartments—too fancy and expensive-looking to be something ordinary. He quickly tucked the circle back and ignored it. Had Sam proposed to her? Bucky was offended he hadn't told him. Maybe it was recent. "Is it turning on?"

"Oh God! N-no," the girl stuttered through her tears.

Bucky was convinced that this girl—who cried a lot—only knew how to say "no" and "oh, God."

"I'm sure Sam can get you a new one, no big deal. What's your name?" Bucky offered the girl his right hand, which she promptly ignored.

She shot up on unsteady legs. "I have to go."

Bucky mimicked her. "Okay?" It was turning out to be a very unusual conversation.

"I have to go," she said again, more slowly this time, as if he were a little kid who couldn't understand a word of English.

Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting on his legs before giving the girl her purse back. "Right."

The tally was now up to "no," "oh, God," and "I have to go." At least she wasn't crying anymore. Bucky hastily stepped out of the girl's way when he realized he was blocking the hall that led to the front door.

She moved as if someone lit a fire under her. One second, she was there, and the next, she was out the door with her pants still unbuttoned, her jacket still falling off her shoulder, and her shoes still in her hand.

"Nice to meet you..." Bucky dropped his hand and trailed off when he realized she couldn't hear him anymore.

Huh. Either Bucky still didn't know how to talk to people, or that girl was on something. A lot of youngsters nowadays did drugs for fun. Bucky didn't understand it, nor did he want to. He could just ask Sam about it later.

Bucky stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck. A couch was considerably comfier than the floor but still gave him a stiff back. No matter, a quick run could swiftly solve that problem. Bucky turned on the coffee machine and was biting into an apple when a shirtless Sam came barreling down the stairs.

"You sleep good, man?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Bucky shrugged, wiping some juice from his chin, "I slept good. Well, as good as I can, considering..."

Sam hummed before opening the fridge and taking a swig of the orange juice. "Nightmare?"

Bucky shook his head. "I don't remember it—Listen, you didn't tell me you had a girl up there."

"A girl?"

"Messy hair, pretty face. Was crying yesterday?"

"Baby Girl? You saw that?" Sam stopped peeling the banana in his hand to look at Bucky.

Bucky merely shrugged and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

"Sorry I didn't tell you she was over," said Sam, taking a bite of his now-peeled banana. "We were up talking real late. I guess I forgot."

"Yup. Talking," Bucky muttered with a smirk as he poured his coffee. "I bet."

"What?" Sam implored.

"Uh, nothing. Just, the girl seemed nice."

"She is nice," Sam retorted. "You met her?"

Bucky nodded and took a sip of his coffee. Black, just as he preferred it.

"Didn't think she'd be awake," Sam said with a yawn. "She barely slept."

Bucky had to try really hard to keep himself from laughing. "Well, she was."

"She was?" Sam asked suspiciously. "What do you mean she was? Did she go back to bed?"

Bucky shook his head. "She left."

"She left?" Sam scoffed, propping a hand on his hip. He had never looked more like Steve.

"That's what I said," Bucky confirmed, taking another sip. "She's gone."

"Gone?" Sam grumbled. "Bucky, what the hell are you talking about?"

Sam's accusing behaviour was really starting to irk Bucky, making him think the girl's sneaking out was not mutual. Shit.

He laughed uncomfortably and put his mug down on the counter. "Your girl came running down the stairs, half-dressed. She dropped her phone, cracked it, didn't let me help. Then she said she 'had to go' and practically ran out of here, I dunno."

"When?" A vein popped in Sam's forehead as he grabbed a random shirt from the pile of clean laundry near the stairs.

Bucky hastily checked the watch on his right arm. "Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes tops."

That made Sam utter a series of colourful swears as he finished his breakfast and found his wallet.

"Wait, Sam, what's going on?"

Sam didn't answer Bucky, too busy looking for his keys in the wrong place.

"Sam!" Bucky asked louder.

"We talked about this!" Sam scoffed. "I told her to at least stay for the weekend. I can't believe this! We sat down like adults and came to an understanding." He finally found his keys on the key hook.

"Where are you going, Sam?" Bucky countered.

"I'm going to get her," Sam snapped before sighing dramatically and letting his shoulders droop. "Shit, I do not have time for this, Baby Girl."

Bucky moved over the kitchen counter and stood in front of Sam. "What about that meeting you've got?"

"What meeting?" Sam asked.

"That meeting about that thing," supplied Bucky.

"What thing?" Sam grumbled.

"You know what thing," Bucky countered.

"Oh. That. I'm gonna have to reschedule—Man! Where are my shoes?!"

"Why?"

"Why?" Sam echoed. "What's with all the questions, Buck? Because I have to get Baby Girl before she skips town and disappears on me again."

"Sam."

"I haven't seen her in eight months, man, and she hasn't seen me in five years. I'm not about to let her leave—"

"Sam!" Bucky shouted loud enough for his friend to hear. He grabbed his wallet and his keys and put on his jacket. "You're going to that meeting, Sam."

"Like hell I am," Sam retorted passionately.

"I'll go pick up your Baby Girl," Bucky said after downing the rest of his coffee. "You, go to your meeting."

Sam stopped for a moment and seriously considered Bucky's proposal. It was an important meeting. "She'll probably be at the taxi stand," he finally relented. "You know the one?"

Bucky nodded, tying up his shoelaces. "Yeah, I know the one."

"Buck?" Sam called when Bucky was stepping out the door. "You better bring her back, or else I'm gonna light a fire under your ass."

Bucky chuckled, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. "Understood, Sam."

The taxi stand was abandoned. Really, what did the girl expect so early in the morning? It was a long weekend, and the residents of Delacroix rarely needed a commute into the city on an ordinary Friday. She was arguing with the lone taxi driver, pleading with him, really, to take her to the nearest airport. But the man kept denying her. He had been up all night and insisted on napping, telling her to wait another twenty minutes.

She didn't have twenty minutes, damn it. If anything, she needed more time. Time she didn't have.

Her phone could be blowing up right now, and she wouldn't know it. She wouldn't know the consequences of her actions until she bought a new phone. But maybe—just maybe, a voice inside her reasoned—Quentin would be too busy with his work retreat to notice her absence.

The girl tried getting the driver's attention again, who shot her the most hateful look she had ever received before starting his cab and driving away. "Hey! Wait!" she called out, but he had already turned the corner.

A laugh made her spin around. It was the man from this morning, the one on Sam's couch. He stood before her with his arms crossed, a big smile overtaking his face.

"You must not be from the city," he mused, "if you're that bad at hailing a cab."

Bucky had no trouble locating the girl, what with her being the only person in a one-mile radius demanding to be taken to the nearest airport. Her feeble attempts amused him, and frankly, Bucky was having trouble believing she was Sam's girl. He didn't think Sam would've gone for someone as... difficult as her. But hey, it was Sam wanting to spend the rest of his life with her, not Bucky.

Bucky surveyed the girl from head to toe. Her hair was settled, her pants buttoned, and most of her composure seemed to have returned. However, she had gone pale once he revealed himself, her eyes wide with guilt. She was caught red-handed; now, he would be the one to deliver her to Sam.

Bucky pointed at her with his left arm. "Sam wants you home."

He was surprised to see that when she looked down at the shiny metal, recognition flared through her eyes rather than shock or disgust. Good, he thought. She knows who I am.

"No, thank you," she managed to squeak out, and Bucky was pleased to know that the girl's vocabulary extended past the three phrases he had come to know her for.

"You seem smart," he told her when he saw her looking behind him, "but not that smart."

"Yeah?" she challenged, gaining a rare bit of courage. "What makes you say that?"

"You know who I am and what I'm capable of. Smart. You think you can run from me. Not smart."

"Is that right?" she asked. Bucky nodded, and the girl took a deep breath. "I must not be too smart then."

He raised a brow in challenge, wondering where she would go from there.

Suddenly, the girl threw her arms above her head and waved them with abandon. "Mr. Thurow!" she shouted, running past Bucky. "Mr. Thurow!"

Bucky slowly walked towards the girl, unhurried in his steps. He wanted to know what she would do.

"Mr. Thurow!" the girl panted. "I need your help."

"Jesus Christ!" Mr. Thurow bellowed. "As I live and breathe! Is that you, Baby Girl?" He was a stocky man with a kind smile and welcoming eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Thurow," the girl began confidently, "it is. I need your help, please. This man," she pointed behind her at Bucky, "is—"

"Carlos!" Bucky interjected with a smile. "How are you?"

"Sergeant Barnes! Back again already?" Carlos turned his attention away from the girl.

Bucky watched with amusement as the girl's face scrunched with confusion. Her lips parted slightly, and she blinked rapidly. "What can I say, Carlos? I was missing your potato salad."

"Hell yeah, you were," Carlos guffawed.

The girl stood there dumbfounded as the two men embraced each other.

"You know, it was my great nan's recipe?" Carlos asked. "Been in the family for generations."

"I didn't know that. You bringing it tonight?"

"For the bonfire?" Carlos confirmed. "You bet I am."

"Well," Bucky gestured to the girl, "I was just taking Baby Girl here back home. She got a little lost, and Sam was starting to worry." Bucky made sure to make himself sound condescending on purpose.

He heard her scoff. "I was not lost."

"Well, you get her home safe, then. Understood, Barnes? I want to see both of you tonight." Carlos mockingly glared at the girl and winked at Bucky before departing.

"See you, Carlos!" Bucky called out to his retreating figure. "Well?" he questioned, turning his attention to the girl after a moment of silence. "Are you gonna run and embarrass yourself again, or are you gonna come with me?"

"I am not going anywhere with you!" the girl scoffed.

"I will take you kicking and screaming if I have to," Bucky warned.

The girl took a step back hastily, believing his threat. "You're a heathen."

Well, Bucky shrugged. He had been called worse. "Sam threatened me with fire, and that's not how I'd like to leave this world if it's all the same to you."

The girl seemed to consider his words for a moment. "Fire is a painful way to go," she finally mused.

"It is," Bucky agreed.

"I don't like you," she told him bluntly.

"Okay." A lot of people didn't like Bucky. One more wouldn't hurt.

"But no one deserves to die like that."

It seemed the spawn of Satan had a heart.

"Does seem excessive," said Bucky.

The girl paused again. "If I run, you'll catch me." It wasn't a question.

"Always," Bucky promised, and the girl must have believed him because her shoulders deflated, and she hung her head in submission.

"Doesn't seem like I have a choice," she whispered, though Bucky heard her all the same.

"You don't."

"Okay," she relented.

"Okay. Let's go." Bucky led her toward where he parked, and the girl followed silently.

Good, she isn't being insufferable any longer, Bucky thought. Though, luck must not have been on his side that day because not a second later, once his bike came into view, the girl started complaining.

"No. I'm not sitting on that death trap."

Bucky turned to her with an annoyed groan. "Really?"

"I hate bikes!" she told him.

"What? You rather walk?" Bucky crossed his arms.

"Yes, please," the girl replied, mimicking his posture. "I walked all the way here, didn't I?"

"Well, too bad!" snapped Bucky. "We're taking the bike." He grabbed his helmet and handed it to her. He groaned again when she didn't take it and only looked at him like she'd never seen a helmet before. Maybe she hadn't. He wouldn't be surprised. Bucky rolled his eyes and placed the helmet on the girl's head, securing the straps and confirming it fit snugly.

"It's loose," she complained.

"Your head's a lot smaller than mine..." Bucky took his previous statement back. He could definitely see the girl and Sam together. Both of them were insufferable shitheads and obviously perfect for each other.

"Sit," he gestured to the bike. And when the girl turned to him with the same blank look in her eyes, Bucky merely huffed in annoyance. He picked her up and deposited her on the seat as if she weighed nothing. And she didn't. He ignored her shouts of protest and sat in front of her.

"Where's your helmet?" She sounded worried for him.

Bucky laughed. "I don't need one."

"Yes, you do," she chastised him. "You could die."

"I'm a super soldier," Bucky said as an answer.

"Even super soldiers die," the girl retorted.

"I won't die," Bucky responded blandly before revving the engine. "Hold on tight."

"I am not touching youuuu..." The girl ended her sentence with a sudden shriek when Bucky unexpectedly released the throttle and speedily drove away. Her arms wrapped around his torso in a vice-like grip, and she hid her face in his jacket. "Oh, God!" she screamed. "Oh, my God!"

She took her flailing legs and tried wrapping them around Bucky's hips, which made him laugh in surprise. She was holding onto him like a koala bear, all while screaming bloody murder in his ears. Her nails dug sharply into his chest, but he ignored the sting. He couldn't wait to see her face once they stopped.

And eventually, they did. Bucky parked his bike in the back and told the girl to get off, which, of course, she didn't do. He got up anyway, taking her with him, though she didn't let him go once he was standing.

Bucky tapped on the hand around his shoulder. "You can let go now. It's safe."

The girl obediently unwrapped herself from his body, falling indiligently to the ground.

"See?" Bucky smirked. "We didn't die."

"Oh my God," she groaned, shaking on the ground. "I can't feel my legs."

Bucky laughed, extending his metal arm towards her, which she took without complaint. "Let's try again," he suggested once she was steady on her feet. "I'm Bucky."

The girl told him her name, and he repeated it with a smile. "I still don't like you," she said.

"The feeling's mutual, doll." And if she blushed at the pet name? Well, Bucky simply chose to ignore it.

He was on his third beer, a shame, really, since he couldn't feel it. But Bucky had developed a liking for the taste. It reminded him of better times. Before the war, and before his life completely changed.

Sam plopped down on the chair next to Bucky, a happy but tired smile on his face. Bucky turned to Sam and took a s'more from his outstretched hand, biting into the gooey center with a groan. "Man, this is good. I can't remember the last time I had one of these."

"Probably before Christopher Columbus discovered America."

"That's not funny, Sam," Bucky frowned. "Besides, everyone knows the Clovis people got here first, twenty thousand years ago."

"I didn't know that!"

"Because you're stupid," Bucky retorted.

"Whatever," scoffed Sam. He slid down in his chair and muttered "nerd" under his breath.

Bucky was preparing a retort when something caught his eye. The girl was playing with AJ and Cass, trying to catch them as they ran around the fire. Bucky cracked his knuckles and prepared to confront Sam. "You're really mean, you know that?

"Why? Because I called you a nerd?" Sam scoffed. "Well, it's true."

Bucky shook his head and levelled Sam with a glare. "Because you didn't tell me you're getting married."

A long silence followed. "Who's getting married?"

"You are!" Bucky exclaimed. "I didn't even know you had a girl."

"Because I don't!" Sam straightened. "And I'm not getting married."

"But—" Bucky was at a loss for words, then a thought struck him. "Holy shit, Sam! Don't tell me you—" Bucky leaned forward, lowering his voice considerably. "You slept with a married woman!"

Sam's face screwed up. "What the fuck are you talking about? I didn't sleep with anyone!"

Bucky was stunned, realizing a moment too late that he had completely misread the situation.

"Start from the beginning," Sam urged. And so Bucky told him what happened that morning, how the girl came down half-dressed and wearing his shirt. Bucky thought she was a one-night stand until he saw the ring in her purse, and Sam brought her back to his house.

"So, she's not your fiancé?"

"No! She's like a sister."

"But you call her Baby Girl!"

Sam rubbed his temples. "Everyone calls her that. Listen," he sighed, "maybe I should've introduced the two of you before, but I was overwhelmed by seeing her after so long. Besides, I didn't think you would start jumping to conclusions!"

Bucky rubbed his neck in embarrassment. Perhaps he was too quick to assume the girl was Sam's significant other. But if she wasn't involved with Sam, then who exactly was she?

The girl was sitting across from Bucky and Sam on the other side of the fire pit, nibbling on a s'more. The two men watched her as they talked.

"Her family lived in the plot behind ours. They were good people."

"Were?" Bucky questioned, feeling like there was more to the story.

Sam seemed to dissociate for a moment as if he were somewhere else. "Eleven years ago, my dad woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to run to town and wake as many folks as possible. There was a fire down the street, and the trucks had broken down on the highway."

Bucky tensed, hating the direction the story was taking.

"The smoke was so thick I was choking on it from a block away. Over half the house was up in flames by the time I got back. Three men went in and came right out not a second later. Folks were throwing bucketfuls of water to try and contain it, but I remember thinking that was useless. It's like the flames had a mind of their own."

It was then that Bucky accidentally made eye contact with the girl. She frowned at the intense look on his face, jerking her head as if to ask, "What?"

"What happened next?" Bucky asked without removing his gaze.

"I went towards the back, where the fire wasn't as strong. The upstairs window was wide open, and I found Baby Girl lying on the ground with twisted legs and blood oozing from her head." Sam scoffed a laugh, though there was no humour behind it.

Bucky's jaw dropped. "She jumped?"

Sam shook his head. "We found out later that her brother pushed her. My entire family was at the hospital when we broke the news that she was the only survivor."

"Shit." Baby Girl was glaring daggers at Bucky now, though he couldn't take her seriously. Melted chocolate dripped down her chin, and her hair was mussed from the wind. Bucky imagined her eleven years younger, wide-eyed and trembling as her life crumbled around her. He recalled her comment from that morning. "Fire is a painful way to go." "No one deserves to die like that." He looked away.

"She's acting like you're keeping her hostage," Bucky remarked.

"I might as well be," Sam grumbled. "She's dying to go back to New York, and she won't give me a proper reason why."

When Bucky looked back at the girl, she was chatting with Carlos Thurow, seemingly pleading with him. She waved her broken phone, and Bucky could see the cracks on the screen glinting from where he sat. Baby Girl slumped her shoulders in defeat when Carlos took his own phone out to show it had died.

Bucky felt a jolt in his chest as he watched the girl run her hands through her hair in frustration. Something was wrong.

Sam whistled beside him, waving Baby Girl over. The effect was immediate. Baby girl plastered on a shoddy smile, exaggerating a laugh as she waved back and made her way to them.

"You seem happy," Sam observed as the girl took the empty chair beside Bucky.

Bucky looked at Sam to see if he was joking. Sam was no spy, but didn't one have to be blind to not see how miserable Baby Girl looked under her fake smile?

"The party's very fun," Baby Girl answered. "It's—" guilt flashed across her features. "It's nice to see everyone after so long."

"Could've been sooner," Sam muttered.

"I told you I was busy!" she exclaimed. "I didn't have time to leave the city."

"But you won't tell me why," Sam countered. The fight seemed to leave his body, and he sighed. "I didn't call you over to argue with you. I won't bring it up again."

Baby Girl turned her nose to the sky in a way that made Bucky laugh. "You better not." And the conversation flowed smoothly from there.

Bucky offered her a beer, which she accepted with a smile, and the three laughed and joked about until tears ran unbidden down their cheeks. However, despite the mirth dancing in the air, Bucky could not ignore the lingering sadness in her eyes.

"You won't believe what this man asked me before," Sam guffawed, pointing accusingly at Bucky. "He asked if we were engaged!"

Laughter burst forth from mirth-kissed lips. "That's disgusting!" she managed between giggles. "What made you think that?"

Bucky felt flushed under her attention. "You were wearing Sam's clothes that morning," he explained sheepishly. "And I saw a ring in your purse."

Her face made a radical transformation. One moment, she was smiling in a way that made Bucky's heart flutter—the next moment, all pleasure seemed to drain away from her body, leaving her looking gaunt and haggard. Sam was too busy laughing at his untied shoelaces to notice the change in atmosphere, but Bucky felt the full force of it slam against his chest.

"I don't have a ring."

"But I—"

"No!" Her words seemed laced with desperation. Her sober eyes flicked toward Sam. "There was no ring," she stressed.

Bucky could see the hopelessness in her eyes. "Right," he muttered. "I must have been mistaken."

Sam, who had overcome his slight scramble with his shoelaces, sat upright. Inebriation laced his every move. "Right. But that made me think."

"That's never a good thing," Bucky interjected, trying to ease the lingering tension.

"Are you dating anyone? Sarah said she didn't know, but you can always tell me. Huh?" Sam teased. "Tell me. Who's the unfortunate bastard?"

Baby Girl's lips were a thin line, and Bucky anticipated the lie before she could open her mouth. "It's nothing like that. I'm not dating anyone." She finished the rest of her drink and immediately grabbed another.

"You can't lie to me," Sam wiggled his finger. "Come on, fess up. Whoever he is, he can't be worse than Beck."

Baby Girl froze, and Bucky's curiosity was piqued too much to ignore. "Beck?"

"Quentin Beck. Biggest asshole on the planet," Sam explained. "Beck and Baby Girl dated on and off in college. I would catch the bastard every other week with a different woman."

Bucky scrutinized the girl for a reaction, but she seemed to be holding her breath.

Sam began to pout like a child. "He always managed to win her over. At least I can die easy knowing they broke up before half the world blipped."

"He's not like that anymore," Baby Girl whispered to herself. Sam was too far to hear her, but Bucky had no such problem. "He's changed." She wrapped her arms around her body. "He's not like that anymore."

Bucky took in her dark under-eyes and trembling frame, her body sickly from stress. He believed her. Beck wasn't like that anymore. Perhaps he had moved on from his days of serial cheating and picked up a different hobby. Beck probably wasn't like that anymore, but he wasn't any better either.

The former spy suspected that Baby Girl was still involved with Beck. He observed her closely. Her eyes swirled with guilt, and her shoulders drooped in alarm. There was more to the story, but before Bucky could voice a question, Baby Girl stumbled onto unsteady feet. She swayed back and forth, betraying her inebriation, and Bucky reached over to keep her from falling.

Baby Girl pushed his hands away. "I'm tired," she croaked. "I'm going to bed." And she staggered away, bumping into people as she disappeared into the house.

Bucky relaxed back in his seat with a tired sigh. On his left, Sam was passed out over the arm of his chair, mouth open in a loud snore. Bucky craned his neck back and stared openly at the night sky. Stars twinkled brighter here than they did in the city. Everything was more serene and calm. However, since Baby Girl arrived, Bucky couldn't help but sense a slight shift in the air, as if the wind knew her secrets and was trying to warn them. One thing was made clear. It wouldn't be pretty.

It felt oddly like déjà vu. A light clambering of feet roused Bucky from his half-sleep, and as always, it took a second for him to make sense of his surroundings. He was on Sam's couch.

The steps were hesitant and controlled—so not AJ and Cass. Excitement and a sugar overload had kept them up late, and they wouldn't wake until a few hours later. Bucky was proven right when a lone woman descended the steps instead of two boys.

She looked a lot better than the last time he had seen her. Freshly showered and reasonably presentable in her own clothes this time—not Sam's. She hadn't seen him yet, so Bucky took the opportunity to observe her a moment longer. Her under-eye area was still dark, though not as sunken as before, and she carried an air of determination around her.

"Good morning," Bucky broke the silence.

Baby Girl shrieked, seemingly slipping over nothing. She tumbled backward, falling in an indelicate heap onto an armchair. "God above!"

Her vocabulary was steadily expanding.

Bucky sat up, regarding her with a guilty expression. "Sorry."

"I forgot you were still here," she mumbled sheepishly, straightening herself into a more respectable position.

There was a moment of awkward silence where neither acknowledged the other.

"I was wondering..." the girl started.

"Yeah?"

"Could I borrow some money? I didn't bring enough with me from New York."

"Uh, sure," Bucky replied, grabbing his wallet from between the couch cushions. "How much do you need?"

Baby Girl looked down at her hands, tracing lazy lines on her palm. "One grand?" she grimaced.

Bucky looked at her with wide eyes. "What do you need a thousand dollars for?"

"I can make do with less!" she rushed to explain. "I can try stretching an eight hundred," she murmured. "But a new phone would be too expensive, and I'm not sure I can find a cheap last-minute flight."

"Excuse me?" Bucky exclaimed. He was fully awake now, leaning forward to hear her better. "What was that about a phone and a flight?"

Her guilty eyes met his confused ones. "I broke my phone," she explained, "so I need a new one. I also need to get back home, so I need to buy a plane ticket."

Bucky eyed her skeptically. "I thought you were staying."

"I changed my mind," she dismissed with a shaky wave. "I already went over it with Sam."

Bucky knew for a fact she was lying. She wouldn't even meet her eyes. "Is that what he would say if I asked him?"

"Of course!" she proclaimed. But Bucky could hear the hesitance.

"Okay. I'll go ask Sam." Bucky made to get up, but as predicted, the girl stopped him.

"Wait! Don't!"

Bucky sat back down with a satisfied smirk. "You're a sneaky little thing."

"Don't tell Sam," Baby Girl pleaded. "I'm sorry I lied. I didn't have another choice. He locked my credit card. Otherwise, I wouldn't be asking you for this favour."

"Hmm," Bucky hummed, crossing his arms and getting comfortable. "I'd be willing to help you—Only..." Bucky stressed when she tried to interrupt. "If you answer a few questions first."

Baby Girl mimicked Bucky's posture with a frown. "That hardly seems fair."

"I can always call Sam."

"Fucking fine," Baby Girl grumbled.

Satisfied by the flow of things, Bucky started his interrogation. "Why are you in such a rush to go back home?" Bucky asked, deciding to start small. He could tell Baby Girl was thinking hard about her answer, trying not to give too much away. She squinted her eyes as if it were putting strain on her. He decided she would make a horrible spy.

"I left in a hurry. I only planned a day trip. I don't have any clothes or money on me."

Bucky shook his head. "That's not what I asked."

Baby Girl glared at him. "I don't understand the question."

"What's waiting for you in New York? Do you have a job? A prior commitment? A boyfriend?" Bucky stretched that last word, giving the girl a smirk.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she frowned.

"Fiancé, then," Bucky concluded. "I saw that ring in your purse." He suddenly leapt forward, grabbing Baby Girl's left hand and pulling it toward him to inspect.

She initially squeaked a protest but stayed still as he prodded her ring finger with his eyes. "Tan line," he observed, and she snatched her limb back, throwing the most menacing glare she could manage toward him.

"No fiancé," she hissed.

"I don't believe you," Bucky shrugged. "Job, then? What do you do?"

It took too long for her to answer, making it obvious she was concocting a lie in her head. "I work in the... customer field. Where I work with customers."

If Bucky wasn't on the verge of laughter, he might've cringed from the secondhand embarrassment.

"And... books." She was obviously lying. Even she didn't believe what was coming out of her mouth.

"I think my cat might be a better liar than you," He remarked drily.

The girl huffed but stayed silent.

Bucky decided to try a different tactic. "What year is it?"

The girl regarded him strangely. "2024."

"How many sides does an octagon have?"

"Eight."

"What's Sam's last name?"

"Wilson."

"Who was Iron Man?"

"Tony Stark."

"What colour is the sky?"

"Blue."

"Who locked your credit card?"

"Quentin Beck."

Bucky laughed. The girl stared at him, horrified. She gaped at him like a fish, only managing to make senseless sounds. "Y-you—w-what!"

Bucky laughed harder. "I told you that day. You seem smart, but not that smart."

"How dare you!"

"Last question. Does your boyfriend know you're here?" If looks could kill, Bucky would be dead. He raised his arms in surrender. "I won't judge. And I won't tell Sam. I'm just trying to understand the situation so I can help."

Her glare slowly softened to fatigue. "No. He doesn't know."

Bucky bobbed his head. "I figured as much." He grabbed his unlocked phone and tossed it to her, assuming she would catch it. She didn't. The device smacked her in the chest before falling on her lap, which she stared at dumbly.

"Call him," said Bucky, standing up to stretch. "Let him know you're safe. Tell him no one kidnapped you, and he can unlock your card."

She opened her mouth to reply, but Bucky beat her to it. "I can't get you a plane ticket out of here, so this is the next best thing. You want to leave? Tell Sam about Quentin Beck, and he'll let you. He isn't that big of an asshole to keep you hostage here. There's hope for him yet." Bucky stepped out of the living room but turned around and stopped to add one more thing. "Sam's been different since you arrived. He's happier. You're all he talks about to anyone. Do him one last favour; stay the weekend, and don't choose that Quentin Beck guy over him." With that, Bucky strode to the bathroom to freshen up, missing the first teardrop.

His phone was returned to him an hour or so later, accompanied by an uncomfortable smile and words of gratitude. "I told him I'm safe, and no one kidnapped me."

"Is he mad?" Bucky asked.

"He's a little upset," she confessed. "Promise you won't tell Sam?"

"Only if you promise not to run away." They stared at each other for a long moment, daring the other to disagree.

"Fine," the girl finally conceded. Bucky gave her a stiff nod and turned to leave. "Wait!" she exclaimed urgently. "He's still upset. Just ignore any other messages from him, okay? He should cool down after a while."

Bucky looked into her eyes. She was beautiful and unsuspecting looking. Fiery and transparent. He scrutinized her for deceit and instead found veiled resignation. He agreed and went to the backyard, leaving her in the kitchen.

It was an especially hot day, and there was much to do. Sarah wanted to landscape the back garden, and Bucky had volunteered. He didn't know the first thing about construction, but the boys had recently introduced him to YouTube, a magical place with the answers to all his questions. Bucky began to work, moving piles of dirt, levelling the uneven ground, and placing heavy slabs of concrete to form a pathway from the back porch to the lake.

Hours later, Bucky finished with the last slab of concrete, moving further away to admire his work. There was more to finish, but Sarah would be happy with his progress. Bucky wiped his brow, groaning at the sticky feeling of sweat dripping down his neck.

He grabbed his phone from the table on the porch to check the time, surprised at the number of notifications waiting for him. Bucky was by no means popular. The only person who contacted him somewhat regularly was Sam, but these notifications were all from the same unknown number. Bucky realized with a start that the barrage of missed calls and messages he was being attacked with were probably all from Quentin Beck.

Curiosity grabbed hold of him. He did promise the girl he would ignore any messages from him, but really, this was excessive. What if something was wrong and Beck urgently needed to contact her? He tapped on the message icon without another thought.

Bucky froze when he read the latest message.

You're dead when I find you.

He immediately scrolled to the top, reading the conversation from the beginning to try and gain some context to the threat. The thread started with a long paragraph from the girl detailing her situation, followed immediately with an exhausted apology.

I'm so sorry, please don't be mad. I'll be back as soon as I can.

Where the HELL are you?

Sam was asking questions. I tried to leave, but he got suspicious. I'll be back in a couple of days. I'm sorry.

You shouldn't have fucking seen him in the first place. I warned you.

Sam's career is in my hands. It'll only take one call to ruin him. I fucking warned you to never go near him.

He's trouble. He doesn't care about you like I do. He doesn't love you like I do.

The messages got progressively worse, teetering on the edge of insanity. Promising pain and broken bones, blaming it all on her.

Why do you make me do this?

Typical narcissist behaviour.

You're dead when I find you.

Baby Girl hadn't seen any of the messages after her rushed apology, but Bucky had a feeling she wouldn't be surprised by them either way. He clutched his phone tight, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

What a bastard. What a self-entitled, psychotic prick. Everything came into clear focus, painting a detailed painting for Bucky to observe. Her behaviour started making sense. The bags under her eyes, the lack of light in her irises, the unworn ring... the secrets.

He decided then that he wouldn't tell her about the messages if she asked. Bucky would wait for the right time tonight to bring up the topic of Quentin Beck as innocently as he could, and offer her his help. She didn't need to know the extent of Beck's threats against her life.

Plan laid out, Bucky made his way inside for a well-deserved glass of cold water when the back door swung open. Baby Girl walked out with two lemonades and a plate of sandwiches balanced between the crook of her elbow. Some lemonade spilled over her hand when she abruptly stopped ahead of him. Bucky took the drinks from her and placed them on the small table.

Baby Girl put the plate of sandwiches next to the drinks and proceeded to lick the spilled lemonade from her hands. Bucky swallowed thickly, feeling flustered at such an innocent act. "You good?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I made us lunch and lemonade. Figured you could do with something cool."

"Yeah," Bucky was suddenly parched. "It's a hot day."

Baby Girl sat down at the table and took a large sip of her drink. "Sarah and Sam went to run some errands in the city. Said they'll be back late."

"What about the boys?" Bucky inquired, sitting down and taking a sip of his own. He groaned as the cool drink washed over him.

"They're having a sleepover at the neighbours." She handed him a sandwich, which he took with a smile.

"So it's just us today," he said, aware that the perfect opportunity for a less-than-pleasant conversation had just presented itself.

"Yup, just us."

An awkward silence fell over them, broken occasionally by the sound of chewing.

"The yard looks nice," Baby Girl blurted.

Bucky turned his neck to observe his handiwork. "Thanks. Still a lot to be done."

"You must be tired."

Bucky shrugged. "Not really. The heat is worse than anything else."

"Is that because of the serum?" she asked, immediately flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry! That's so insensitive of me. And it's none of my business."

"You're good," said Bucky. "I don't mind. Yeah, it's because of the serum. My stamina's through the roof."

"Wow," she admired.

"Could've been real handy with the ladies, back in the forties." Bucky flushed at the silence that followed. "During the war, I mean!" he corrected. "I could've used the stamina during the war."

The girl finished her lemonade in one long sip. "Right, of course."

"For battle. On the battlefield." Bucky finished his own drink, then stuffed another sandwich in his face to keep from further embarrassing himself.

Bucky's phone lit up with a notification, and the girl flicked her eyes toward the screen. "It's my neighbour," he told her. "He's looking after my cat."

Baby Girl visibly deflated. "That's nice," she smiled. "What's its name?"

"Alpine." Bucky decided this was as good a time as any to ask a few questions. "Listen, did you tell Quentin Beck where you are?" Bucky hated the scared look on her face.

"He knows I'm at Sam's," she started slowly.

Bucky took a deep breath and willed his expression to remain neutral. "Does he have an address?"

She shook her head in denial, and only then did Bucky find himself relaxing. He wouldn't need to worry about Beck showing up announced, which gave him more time to come up with a proper plan.

"I'm gonna take a dip," Bucky gestured to the lake. "Wanna join?"

"Maybe later."

Bucky stood up with a shrug. "Suit yourself." And he took his shirt off with one pull.

He felt Baby Girl's stare burning through his skin as he jogged toward the small lake, discarding his pants along the way. He entered the water in a running dive, letting gravity pull him to the bottom before kicking away and breaking the surface with a loud whoop. His body temperature slowly stabilized as he ran laps along the perimeter. He could still feel her stare as he stopped to tread.

"The water's amazing!" he yelled. "Join me!"

She threw her arms in the air. "I don't have a bathing suit."

Bucky floated on his back, arms crossed behind his head. "Who cares?"

After a moment's hesitation, Baby Girl laughed. "You're right. Who cares?" She grabbed the hem of her top and lifted it over her head, revealing a white camisole underneath. She stopped near the edge of the lake, fixing Bucky with a faux glare. "Well, turn around. You're crazy if you think I'm undressing in front of you."

Bucky smirked at her teasing nature and turned away, listening for a splash. After a moment, the water rippled, followed by a shrill scream. "Can I look?"

"Go ahead." Baby Girl laughed when Bucky whipped his head, sending a stream of water flying her way from his hair. "Damn, the water's cold."

"Feels good, though."

"Yeah."

They settled into a comfortable silence, floating on their backs and sneaking glances at each other. Her white camisole had turned see-through, giving Bucky a delicious glimpse of her skin and pale blue bra. He averted his gaze, trying to calm his racing heart.

"I'll miss this when I'm gone," said Baby Girl softly. "The peace and quiet."

"You don't have to leave," Bucky urged. "You could stay."

She turned to face him. "I can't," she replied sadly.

"You're scared for Sam," he observed, remembering the texts. "Why? He's the fucking Falcon. He helped defeat Thanos. Beck is nothing compared to that."

The girl's eyes widened in alarm. "How do you know that?"

Bucky didn't tell her he read the messages. He would've come to the same conclusion sooner or later. He ran his hand through his wet hair. "I used to be a spy." He fixed her with a pointed look. "And you're a horrible liar. Seriously, you are worse than my cat."

She huffed but didn't argue. After a moment of silent contemplation, she settled on her back and regarded him doubtfully. "Quentin has connections with the CIA, FBI, NSA, and Homeland Security. Any government official out there, he's probably on a first-name basis with them." Her face contorted in pain. "He could ruin Sam's life with a single phone call. I swore I would never give him a reason to."

Bucky's jaw clenched tightly. "What's the worst that bastard could do? Sam knows people too."

"Not enough. He could pin a drug charge. It wouldn't even have to stick. The bad press would be enough to ruin Sam's reputation."

"That's illegal," Bucky pointed out dangerously. Quentin Beck was turning out to be worse than Bucky imagined.

"He doesn't care about that when it comes to me," she dismissed. "Quentin can do no wrong when it comes to love."

"That's not love!" Bucky snapped, losing the last of his patience. They were floating dangerously close to one another, elbows brushing.

"Regardless. There's nothing to be done."

"You could stay," Bucky implored. "I'd keep you safe."

They were even closer now, both on their backs, faces turned toward the other, lips dangerously close. For a moment it looked like she might say yes. She opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of a car door slamming shut interrupted her.

"That must be Sam," she said, and the moment was broken.

Bucky moved first, swimming to the deck to grab his discarded pants. "I'll give you some privacy," he said, dragging the fabric up his legs. He left without another word.

Incessant knocking at the front door stopped Bucky in his tracks. Sam always carried a key. Bucky dropped his shirt and went around the house to the front. The car parked in the drive was unfamiliar and out of place. Sleek and shiny and black. Expensive. The man waiting impatiently at the door looked more out of place than the car. Dressed in a gray suit, brown loafers, and black shades, the man looked like he belonged on the cover of a real estate advertisement.

"Can I help you?" Bucky snapped, feeling on edge.

The man lifted his shades to regard Bucky with a look of contempt, eyeing his exposed chest and metal arm with barely concealed disgust. "Yeah, maybe you can. Is this the Wilson residence?"

"Depends on who's asking."

"A friend," the man replied.

"Funny. I didn't know Sam had any friends."

"That's because I'm not Sam's friend," he scorned. "I'm looking for a girl."

Bucky inched closer to him. "I know lots of girls," he quipped.

The man smiled dangerously. "I'm looking for a very specific one. Yay high, unchecked temper, tendency for trouble."

Bucky laughed without humour. "Doesn't narrow much down, buddy. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

"You must be the Winter Soldier," the man mused.

"I go by James Barnes," Bucky snapped. "You must be Quentin Beck." Bucky had recognized him right away.

Quentin Beck spread his arms in a wide gesture. "The one and only. I suppose she told you about me."

"She didn't have to. I can smell a bastard from a mile away."

Beck clenched his fists, face contorting nastily, and stepped forward. "You little—"

Despite the sweltering heat, Bucky felt a coldness wash over him. His advanced senses picked up on footsteps coming from around the back. His head whipped to the side just as the girl rounded the corner. She wore jeans and nothing else, her white camisole still wet and slightly see-through. Bucky watched with dread as she took in the sight in front of her, blinking confusedly. The colour slowly drained from her flushed cheeks, and she froze as her brain caught up with her eyes.

"Sweetheart?" Beck's demeanour rapidly changed, and he stalked forward with his hands raised non-threateningly. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Bucky blocked his path with a glare.

When Beck noticed her state of undress, he became angry, clenching his fists at his side. He noted Bucky's bare chest, his low-hanging jeans, and the girl's see-through top. "What the fuck is going on here?" Beck demanded.

When he fixed his icy glare on her, she reanimated, staggering back with a loud gasp, Baby Girl tripped over a rock but continued scooting backwards as she fell over. The raw fear emanating from her was enough to undo Bucky. Bucky shoved Beck as hard as he could—without using his super strength—and slammed him against his car.

"Motherfucker," Beck hissed, clutching his side.

"I suggest you leave before you really piss me off," Bucky threatened, stalking closer.

Beck staggered away, putting his car between them. "Not without my fiancé," he seethed.

"Fiancé, huh?" Bucky turned toward the girl. She was still on the ground, carefully watching the scene with wide eyes. He waited until she looked at him, then gave her a soft smile, silently urging her to trust him. "Are you his fiancé, Baby Girl?"

She jerked her head in denial. "No."

"There you have it. You heard the lady." Bucky's voice lowered dangerously. "Now leave. Before I make you leave."

"She's lying!" Beck screamed. And Bucky got the impression he was used to getting his way. "I gave her a ring."

Bucky had cornered Beck against the hood of his car and was looming dangerously over his crouched figure. "I don't see any ring. Now leave!"

Beck unlocked the car, jerking open the driver's side and inelegantly lumbering in. "This isn't over yet, Winter Soldier," he spat, and with one last seething glare toward the girl, he sped off.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist│Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!! 💜

@marvelatthetwilight @hallecarey1 @ria132love

[sturnioloszn]

IN LOVE WITH A CRIMINAL - C.S

summary; after almost being caught committing murder, chris reassures you that everything is fine and helps you relieve some nerves...

warnings; smut, mentions of committing a crime (murder), gun kink.

a/n; i'm lowk stepping out the comfort zone w this one, so if it's dogshit, we know why. btw, if u don't understand the relationship, chris and y/n work together as hitmen (or ig hitman and hitwoman).

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

I sit on the edge of the bed, leaning down to undo the straps on my black heels. I'm usually focused on how sore my feet are after wearing heels for several hours, but my mind is engrossed with one thought.

It wasn't uncommon for Chris and I to be paired together for hits; actually, we worked well as a team. But tonight didn't go as smoothly as it was meant to.

It was supposed to be a straightforward night; while I kept the ambassador distracted, Chris would take him out.

Unfortunately, my charm worked a little too well, and the ambassador wanted to "find somewhere more private," so we kept changing locations, meaning Chris couldn't take the shot easily.

We eventually managed, but the authorities were on scene immediately, which wouldn't have been the case if we had stayed at the original location. Due to this, we were almost recognised, but we fled the scene just before they could recognise us.

Yet, I can't help but feel paranoid. I know what line of work I'm in, and yes, I know the risks, but it's still an insanely scary thought. What if they saw my face? Would I have to be a fugitive? Would I have to live the rest of my life in the shadows to prevent from being seen again?

Fuck.

The sound of ammo hitting the bathroom counter snapped me out of my anxiety-ridden thoughts. I slowly stand up from the bed, stepping out of my heels and heading towards the bathroom in the hotel room.

I reach the doorway and see Chris at the countertop, he's clearing the gun that was used tonight. I lean against the door frame with my arms crossed over my chest as I watch his hands work the gun. I won't lie, Chris was hot as fuck, he had a sharp jawline and a beautiful side profile with gorgeous brown hair that fell over his forehead.

But it doesn't matter how sexy he was, there's no way anything could happen between us, especially with work. It would just get way too messy.

"Do you think they saw us?" I ask, breaking the deafening silence that was lying between us.

"No," he replies coldly. I know he was somewhat upset at me due to the fact that I couldn't keep the ambassador in one place, making his job harder.

"There were a lot of them... what if they did see our faces?" I say, now beginning to share my inner conflicts with him.

"They didn't. Stop stressing," another cold reply.

"They saw us leave though, we had to have looked suspicious, right?" I question once again. I could sense he was getting annoyed at all my questions but I really couldn't help it.

"We're fine," he huffs, as he sorts through the unused ammunition. I watch his fingers work diligently, organising everything so carefully. I wonder what else his fingers would be good at.

Fuck, I really have to stop thinking these things, because I can only blame myself for the dampness in my panties right now.

"Listen, it's not your fault, okay?" He sighs, turning his head to finally look at me. I think he feels slightly bad being so harsh on me, even though it really isn't my fault that I'm so hot.

I nod at his words, dragging my eyes to the floor to avoid eye contact. He takes a few steps towards me and places his index finger under my chin, tilting my head high enough so that our eyes could meet.

"I mean it...I'm sorry for being a dickhead," his words are soft and sincere, almost enough to make my knees crumble completely. "And no, I'm sure they didn't see us. Stop stressing your pretty little head about it,".

He's so close that I can almost hear his heartbeat, and the small touch he has on my skin is enough to burn up my entire body. There's no way he can't see the effects he has on me.

"What can I do to ease your mind, hm?" He says, moving his finger from under my chin and using his entire hand to cup the side on my face; his thumb caressing my blushed cheek softly.

"Nothing, I'm fine...I probably just need some sleep," I say. But even if I take him up on his offer, what is he really laying out on the table? Maybe I'm reading too far into this.

"Nothing? There's absolutely nothing I can do f'you?" He asks, lowering his head to my neck and planting a soft kiss there. I lean my head back, surprised by his actions.

Chris and I have been strictly colleagues, and other than the occasional flirty joke, there's not been anything else between us... until now.

"Chris..." I whisper, almost as a warning, as if someone could catch us at any moment.

"Hm," he mumbles against my neck, still peppering small kisses. I sigh and give into his touch. He feels me surrender, and he moves his hands to my curves, drinking them in with every touch.

"This dress looks so fucking good on you, y'know that?" His words are barely recognisable, so I weave my hands through his hair and tug his face away from my neck. I guide him towards my lips and it doesn't take long for him to crash his perfect, plump lips into mine.

The kiss is instantly hot, burning even, and the feel of his hands all over my body definitely doesn't help with the heat. His hands slip down to my ass, grabbing handfuls. A light gasp leaves my mouth, surprised by his direct actions.

"Can I make you feel good?" He asks, briefly pulling away from my lips. There's a look of hunger in his eyes, which makes him look even more irresistible.

"Please, Chris," I reply pathetically. By now, my panties are soaked, and we're both still fully dressed. God, what is he doing to me.

I feel him reconnect our lips and slide his hands under my ass to my thighs. I feel his arms tense, and my feet lift the ground. He places me onto the bathroom countertop, and I wrap my legs around his torso.

His hands find my hips again, but instead of stopping there, they continue downwards towards the slit in my dress. His right hand slips under my dress, and he reaches for the fabric at my hip.

He invites his left hand under the dress, too, finding the fabric on the other side of my hip. He tugs both sides down, removing my panties completely.

He looks up at me, his cold, blue eyes meet mine. I've never seen anyone with eyes as pretty as his; they really are his best feature.

"Do you trust me?" He asks, his eyes locking me in a trance. I nod, unable to get any words past my lips.

"I need you to use your words," he speaks again. If he keeps speaking like this, my composure will be out the window any minute.

"Of course I trust you, Chris," I say, wondering why he's even asking me that. He then turns and grabs the gun next to him. What is he doing?

He returns his attention back to me and slowly spreads my legs. My dress rides up, leaving me more than accessible to him.

"Fuck, look at how soaked you are and I haven't even touched you yet," he groans, and I can see the buldge in his trousers form.

He then does something that I would have never dreamed he'd do.

He took the barrel of the gun and ran it between my folds, lathering it in my fluid. The cold metal of the gun against my hot core makes me jump slightly.

"C-Chris... what are you doing?" I ask, my breathing getting shallower.

"Shh, just let me take care of you and ease your worries," he says, his eyes never faltering from my dripping cunt. I throw my head back and enjoy this new sensation that I'm being guided through.

Then, out of nowhere, I feel the gun slip into me. No way he's fucking me with a gun.

"Fuck, Chris," I say, bucking I'm hips slightly. I'm not completely opposed to this idea but it's definitely something new.

Thank God I saw him take out the bullets otherwise my stress level would be through the roof.

He starts pumping the gun faster and faster, and a familiar heat is building in my stomach. Moans start spilling from my lips uncontrollably and my hands find their way to his hair again.

"Chris, p-please... don't stop," I say, at this point I'm fucking the gun back, and I'm so close to euphoria.

"I wasn't planning on it," he breathes out. A few strokes later, and I'm spamming around the gun, letting my wetness coat it as Chris' name, along with a string of curse words, leave my mouth.

He slowly removes the gun from my hole and looks at it in wonder before turning to me.

"I've never been more turned on in my life," he says, his eyes bouncing back between me and the gun.

I'm sure I look a mess right now, I'm panting heavily, my hair is frizzy, and mascara is likely running down my face, yet Chris doesn't think twice about calling me beautiful.

"What does this mean for us?" I ask, pulling myself down from the countertop, grabbing onto Chris to steady myself.

"I've liked you for a while, y/n, I was tired of pretending like I didn't need you," He admitted. My cheeks are definitely blushing, and not because I just orgasmed.

"Me too... but what about work?" I question, work is the main reason I hadn't made my move. I'm already a criminal, I can't be in love with one, too.

"We'll make it work, now stop worrying about everything, I'm going to run you a bath, and you're going to relax," he says, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

a/n; well... I don't think this is too horrendous (if it is, keep ur mouth shut otherwise i'll cry). alsooo, 151 notes on my last fanfic?? u guys are insane but i appreciate it sooo much, thank youuu and love youu smm 💙

[entitled-fangirl]

Two idiots in love. (P10)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: the reader gets taken by David. And Joel will do anything to get her back.

Warnings: bruises, creepy comments, kidnapping, manipulation, name-calling, cursing

Author's note: I think 3 updates in one day is enough lmao

Masterlist

Part 1 and 11

.............................................................

Y/N woke up with a labored breath.

In fact, all of her breaths were harsh and painful.

And now that she had truly came to her senses, she couldn't remember taking her medication since Jackson.

She left her medication in Jackson.

"I started worrying you wouldn't wake up."

She sat up slowly, now realizing she was laying on cold tile in a fenced in area of the room.

And she knew that voice.

David.

She hummed, trying to collect her thoughts. 

Her shivering frame no longer had her winter coat.

Her torso was just left in a tank top and Joel's flannel.

She finally managed to look up at David.

He smiled, "Tess… is it?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "…Tess?"

He shook his head, "Apparently not." He held up the piece of paper again, "…Y/N?"

She couldn't stop the small instinctual light up of her eyes.

He smiled again, "There she is… pretty Y/N."

In David's hands was Bill's note to Joel. She remembers Joel keeping the paper, and it must have ended up in her backpack. 

"So, is Tess the girl?"

"Stop saying that fucking name."

His eyebrows rose, "Alright. Touchy subject." He set the paper down, "I just want to get to know you. Understand you? Is that alright?"

"L…Let me out."

"Well, that's certainly the goal." She saw him grimace, "Sorry for that bruising. Can't imagine it feels nice. I talked to James about it, and I truly apologize on his behalf."

The struggle to breathe.

It was the bruising on her neck from her attempted escape.

"Are you hungry?"

"Wh…why am I in a cage?"

David shrugged, "Have you ever had a pet bird, Y/N? You have to make sure it'll stay before you let it out. Otherwise, it may fly away-"

"-Fuck you."

"Or," he continued more harshly, "More realistically, a dog. You're wild. But don't worry. We'll domesticate you. Make you obedient and respectful. Let you eat the scraps off of the table. The others want to kill you. But I saved you. I can help you. Let me protect you."

She shook her head, "We both know I'm not really on my own."

"Right," he nodded, "your family. Your husband, how is he?"

"He's not my fucking husband."

"Well, I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts. But that part of your life, it's ending. And what I'm offering you is a beginning. But if you can't find a way to trust me, then yes. You are alone."

Y/N let out a breath, pushing herself against the wall.

"Can I ask about that?" David asked.

"About what?" She replied coldly.

"That bruise on your arm. Is that… from him?"

A bruise in the shape of Joel's fingers laid around her wrist in a deep purple. It was from cleaning his wound only yesterday, and at the time, she didn't think anything of it.

She looked up at him.

"I see." He said, "You know, people that love you- truly love you- they don't hurt you."

"How the fuck would you know about love?"

"Well, I wouldn't hurt you, Y/N."

"The same bruises are on my neck."

"Those are from James. Not me. I would never hurt you. I think you're beautiful. And beauty is meant to be treasured."

"Joel wouldn't hurt me. He's not like that."

David scoffed, "Did you see what he did to Alec at the university? Snapped his neck. You think he wouldn't do that to you?"

"No. He wouldn't." She reasoned. 

"Be serious with yourself, Y/N. That man is dangerous and cruel. You deserve someone kind and protective."

"And you think that person is you?" She scoffed.

He let out a laugh, "Of course, I wish the pretty girl likes me. Who wouldn't? But, I think that's up to you to decide."

And he left her alone with her thoughts. 

…

Joel was livid.

He could barely see through the red that clouded his vision.

In the scheme of things, they had somehow taken Ellie, too. 

And Joel didn't like it when people touched his things.

He continued to punch the man taped to the chair.

"Please," the man pleased, "I don't know any woman."

Joel stabbed a blade through the man's knee.

"Marco-"

"No, no, no, no" Joel said softly, "He can't help you. You focus right here. Or I'll pop your fuckin' kneecap off."

The man took a deep breath, "She's alive."

Joel nodded, "Where?"

When the man wouldn't answer, Joel twisted the man's kneecap with his bare hands.

"Fuck, fuck! The town!"

"WHAT TOWN?!" Joel yelled.

"..S…Silver Lake."

Joel pulled out a map, setting it on the man's lap.

The same map Y/N had used in Bill's truck.

"It's not a real town name," the man said out of breath, "It's a resort."

"A resort?"

Joel sighed and pulled the blade from the man's knee, shoving the handle of it in the man's mouth harshly.

"You're gonna point to where we are, and where your "resort" is. And it better be the exact same spot you buddy over there points to."

The man did as Joel commanded, then he spit the blade out, "Go ask him. He'll tell you. I'm not lying."

Joel nodded, then shoved the knife into the man's stomach with no mercy.

The other man held hostage yelled out at the violent act. "Why did you do that? He told you what you wanted! I won't tell you SHIT!"

"That's okay," Joel said calmly as he walked to him and grabbed a bat, "I believe him."

Joel swung the bat with no remorse.

…

Y/N was sat on the floor in a panic.

A human fucking ear laid on the ground not too far from her cage.

They were cannibals.

David came in with a plate, setting it on the ground and sliding it to the hungry woman.

But the last thing she could do was eat after seeing what laid on the ground.

He noticed her gaze and followed it, then looked back with a clenched jaw, "For what it's worth, this is just deer meat. I swear."

She let out a small cry, "Are you gonna fucking eat me?"

"I'd rather not."

"How… how could you do this?"

"There are only a few of us that know." David said, "but, I would've told you. Sooner or later."

She let out another small cry.

"It was a last resort. You think this doesn't shame me?"

She sniffled lightly and looked up at him.

David grinned slightly at the eye contact, "Your friend is no different. Didn't he take another man's life to save yours?"

"He…he was defending himself."

"No, he was defending you."

Her eyes left his as she took in his words.

"Can I tell you something? Be honest with you, Y/N? I'm just a shepherd tending to my sheep. And all I want… is someone to share it with. A friend."

"What about my friend?"

He nodded, "I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They'll spare him."

"W…what?"

"If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go. They do what I tell them to do."

"What about my daughter?"

He smiled, "About that…"

Her heart dropped, "Where is my girl, you sick fuck?"

"JAMES!"

James walked in with Ellie in tow. Her hands were tied behind her back and she fought against the man's movements until she saw Y/N.

David smiled, "A happy reunion, indeed."

Y/N stood and approached the bars as close as she could to Ellie. "Ellie! Are… Jesus, are you alright?"

Ellie nodded.

"Let her go, David. She didn't do anything. I'm the adult here. Blame me. Just… let her go, please. Don't touch her."

The preacher sighed, "Well, I really want to, sweetheart. But… I have to domesticate the dog, remember? So, I take something that the dog loves, like…. Ellie, you said?… and I dangle her in front of the dog's nose. The dog will now do anything I say to ensure it gets what it wants."

"I'm not a dog, David."

He smiles, "No…?"

James pulls on Ellie's hair, making her cry out.

"STOP IT!" Y/N yells, "STOP! Fine! I'll do anything. Anything, please. Don't touch her!"

"C'mere then."

She approached where David stood on the other side of the bars.

His hand wandered to her cheek.

It made her remember Joel's touch.

But they were nothing alike.

David smiled, letting his voice drop to in intimate volume due to the proximity, "And now, the pretty bitch bows to her master."

He turns around, "Put the girl in there."

When Ellie is thrown into the cage, Y/N immediately takes her in her arms.

They watch the men leave the room.

"Where are you hurt?!" Y/N asked frantically.

Ellie shakes her head, "I'm fine. Just… scared."

"And Joel?"

Ellie shrugs, "I heard voices, so I did what I could to lead them from the house. Got the horse shot. I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, "I don't give a shit about the horse. You're okay, and that's all the matters."

…

A few hours later, the two found themselves a little more relaxed.

David had left them alone for the last 4 hours.

"Y/N?" Ellie asked. "I have something to confess…"

The woman nods, "Okay."

"It's really bad…."

"Bad as in… you killed someone? That's not exactly considered bad anymore."

"No…I… I read the note."

Y/N froze. "What note?"

"The one Joel left for you in Jackson."

Y/N didn't know what to say, "How… when did you… Ellie…?"

"I saw it when I went to the bathroom before we left. I just… I don't know. Part of me hoped that Joel had left it for me. I understand why he left one for you, but…. I couldn't help myself. And I'm sorry for reading it."

"It's fine, Ellie. Really."

Silence.

"Did you want to know what it said?"

"Well," Y/N shrugged, "that depends. Is it something I have to know?"

Ellie considered the question, then shook her head. 

"Okay then. Is it something I'd want to know?"

Ellie immediately nodded.

"Hmm. Would this information change what I have with Joel? And with you?"

Ellie frowned in thought, then nodded, "Yeah. Big time."

Y/N sighed, "Well, I don't care then. I like what I have with you and Joel. I don't want to change it. I'd rather live life not knowing anything and having you two, then to know everything in the world and live without Joel and my daughter."

Ellie let out a shuddered breath at her response.

"Joel also said he loves you."

Y/N's head shoots up, "…what?"

"I won't get into details but… it was all mushy about how much he loves you and how you ground him… all the shit he'll never say out loud."

Y/N nodded. "I see. I hope Joel is out there looking for us then."

"Me, too."

If only they knew.

............................................................................

Tags: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje

[chaotic-toasters]

Keep in Touch

If you cried, please let me know. I cried while writing this and now I feel like a wimp

Jen Beattie x Teen!Reader Arsenal WFC x Teen!Reader --------------------

You awoke to the creaking of your bedroom door, followed by the dipping of your bed.

"Hey, kiddo," your mam's voice soft, fingers carding through your hair. "Time to wake up. We've got a big day ahead of us."

You cracked your eyes open, blinking rapidly at the light streaming through your window. "Five more minutes?"

She smiled fondly. "Sorry, kiddo. We've got to finish packing, and then we're gonna meet the girls at Colney one last time before they send us off at the airport."

A few months ago, you and your mam had received almost identical offers from the newest team in the NWSL, Bay FC. Your mam had jumped at the promise of something new, but you'd hesitated.

Arsenal was all you'd ever known. You'd grown up in the academy, winning tournaments left and right before signing your first professional contract for the gunners at fifteen years old.

You had memories of Katie chasing you through the Emirates, practicing pens with Kim, and doing media with Leah. If you left, you wouldn't get to make any more of those memories that were so near and dear to your heart.

It was a difficult decision to make, one that your mam assured you was totally up to you. Any of the girls would take you in in a heartbeat if you wanted to stay.

You hated change, and you hated the position Bay FC's offer put you in. Whether you stayed or left, your life wouldn't be the same.

Stay, and be an ocean away from your mam.

Leave, and abandon everything you'd ever known since you were a wee child.

Stay or leave.

Your mam or your found family.

Pain or pain.

Stay.

Leave.

Stay.

Leave.

Realistically, as much as you dwelled on the decision, the choice was made the second you opened your email.

You could never leave your mam. Your mam who never forced you to do anything you didn't want to. Your mam who always made time for you. Your mam who would stay home from matches or training when you were sick. Your mam who always supported you and loved you.

So, you accepted. You accepted the offer to leave the WSL behind, comforted only by the knowledge that your mam would be right next to you the whole time.

It had hurt to accept the California team's offer, a metaphorical knife to the gut, but your teammates had reminded you that you were still in the early stages of your career and could come back later on. That had brought you some sense of relief, knowing that they would gladly welcome you back if you wanted to return.

But now, on the final day of your life in London, it all came crashing down, and you suddenly did not want to leave.

"O-kayyy," you mumbled, rolling off the bed. "When do we leave? To Colney?"

Your mam extended her hand, pulling you up. "In an hour. Get the rest of your stuff, and we'll have breakfast on the way."

-------------------

"He—oof!" You grunted as someone tackled you into a hug, taking you both to the floor.

"I'm gonna miss you, kiddo," Leah's voice wavered. "So, so much."

You squeezed her tightly. "I'll miss you too, Lee. Who'll make fun of your five year-old diet now?"

Katie joined you on the floor, stealing you from Leah's embrace to pull you into her own. "I will, kid. Don't ye' worry."

Leah wiped away a stray tear. "You remember this, Y/N. Once a gunner, always a gunner. You hear me? You'll always have a place hear at Arsenal."

You smiled sadly as yet another one of your teammates stole you for a hug. "Thanks, Lee. I'm gonna miss you all so, so much."

"She was proper crabbit this mornin'," your mam said with a sad smile of her own. "She cried, yelled at me, cried again, then walked into the door frame because she couldn't see through her tears."

"Maaaam!" You turned red as your teammates laughed. "That didn't happen!"

Kim ruffled your hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. You did that exact thing with a goalpost when you were younger."

You tried unsuccessfully to hold in your laughter. "Kimmy!"

Your mam grinned. "Nothin' I'd rather be doing during my last day as a gunner than making fun of Y/N with you all."

Unfortunately for you, that was all that you and your teammates did for the remainder of your time together. Make fun of you. Oh, to be the baby of the gunners.

-------------------

"I don't want you to leave," Kyra murmured, gripping your shoulders desperately as your flight was called. "You're like... my little sister."

You softened at the uncharacteristically wholesome confession, hugging the Aussie who you'd grown so close to tightly. "Keep in touch, Ky. We'll be sure to visit."

"You promise?" you'd never heard Kyra so vulnerable, not even when Australia had lost to England in the Semifinals and been knocked out of the World Cup.

"I promise. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N."

It was Kim who scooped you up into a hug last, the Scotswoman practically having watched you grown up since your birth. Your second parent in the absence of your father.

"We'll miss you here, kiddo," she whispered in your ear as you tried to hold back tears. It was almost comical, the short Midfielder having to stand on her tippi toes to do so, barely able to reach you even as you leaned down to hear her. "You'd better call or I'm boardin' the nearest fly to San Francisco and takin' you back home."

You patted her on the back before pulling away, averting your eyes before you started bawling. "I will, Kimmy. I will."

As you and your mam boarded the plane, you shoved your fist into your mout to choke back a sob.

Sitting in your seat, the tearful goodbyes of your teammates echoed in your head. They hadn't wanted you to go, and you hadn't entirely wanted go either, torn between two sides, but you'd known this was the right decision. You'd stay with your mam, broadening your horizons and giving yourself more experience.

Staring out the window, you took in the landscape. The English landscape that you'd known your whole life, left behind as you started a new adventure in the United States.

As the plane took off, Leah's voice echoed in your head.

Once a gunner, always a gunner.

[two-white-butterflies]

is it over now? | c16

Description: You reminisce about a relationship that was never meant to be. Charles moves on - but you stay there.

Pairing: charles leclerc/short!reader

(not really that short, more like 4'11 - 5'3)

yournamelovely: 1989 (Taylor's Version) is out now! I had so much fun being the only feature in the remastered album. Please listen to 'Is It Over Now?' 💙🦋 Thank you for this beautiful opportunity Tay!

liked by 2,382,012 others

>comments

theraindrops4: I'm so proud of you 😭

taylorswift: 💙

nickdevries: Don't forget us when you're famous. - yournamelovely: Who are you again??

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There were many different ways to get over a breakup; some of them included healing, traveling and finding yourself - but how could you get over Charles fucking Leclerc? He was everything that you wanted in a man - dimpled cheeks, monegasque accent, and a perfect family that you adored. He was everything you needed.

When he decided to call things off three months ago. You haven't been the same. "Congrats on your new song with Taylor! I listened to it and I can't believe you both kept it hidden for 6 years?" Selena chuckled while handing you one of Taylor's famous mocktails.

"It was supposed to be in my debut album - but it didn't make sense. Now, I think - it makes absolute sense." you chuckled, staring off to the side. Yep, Charles' new fling was a Slovakian model - who by all means, looked beautiful. Blonde hair and blue eyes, you couldn't find it in yourself to hate her. How could anyone hate an angel?

"Oh come on, we have to catch up soon. You still haven't told me about the thing with Charles." Blake's eyes narrowed, she leaned on the door-frame - eyes trailing back and forth between you and her kids that were running around the backyard. "What is there left to say? Our relationship was amazing - it ended and we're going in separate ways." you simplified, leaning on the chair.

Blake took a deep breath, finally settling down in between Selena and Ryan. "I always thought that you'd end up together," she admitted - although she sooner realized that it wasn't the proper thing to say. "Charles, ending up with someone? He's not the guy that dreams about marriage. Maybe in another life, I'll want something less." you looked in the deep horizon.

"Maybe it was for the better that things ended - you obviously didn't agree on big things. You deserve to be happier." Ryan butted in the conversation, sensing that you were in deep thought. "I guess," you agreed with a hum.

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yournamelovely: quickie mart mwahaha

liked by nickdevries and 1,239,120 others

>comments

yournamelover: WHAT IS THIS HUMOR? HAHAHA

charlos92: please get back with charles

destinyshanggggee: I WOULDN'T MARRY ME EIGHTER

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olenna_markiz: Congratulations lovie! @Charles_Leclerc

liked by 81,203 others

>comments

hollyshit2: YOU LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

bolld6: the look of pure love omg

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charlesandy/nforever: real eyes realize that she was the one ...

liked by 712 others

>comments

derivativeofx: The way that he threw it all away 😭

leftovers8: WE NEED AN EXPLAINATION

yournameleclerc: huhuhuhu

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You thought that having the internet hate Charles' new girlfriend would make you feel better - but it honestly made you feel worst. The entire fucking world fucking hates her, thinks that she's better than you - but it wouldn't change the fact that he chose her. It wouldn't change the fact that you didn't blame her.

You would risk the world for Olenna Markiz too.

"There has been a flurry of hate in social media directed towards your past relationship and his new girlfriend. What do you have to say about that?" the interviewer cornered you. The grip on your hoodie tightened - you wanted to buy food, but the Paps found you. "This is about Charles and Olenna, right? I'll be blunt - our relationship did end on a sour note but it's not an excuse to be mean towards her."

"- at the end of the day, we're separately happy. Please stop making rumors about us or about her. Especially her - because umm she wasn't the reason for our breakup. Judging from the posts I see on social media, they're really in love. I wish nothing but the best for them." you smiled bitterly, walking away as your manager suddenly rushes to your side.

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ynandcharlesuniverse: 1 year ago, (Your Name) wrote 'Timeless' for Charles Leclerc. I believe that we were supposed to find this, cuz even in a different life you still would've been mine.

liked by 827 others

comments have been restricted.

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Charles_Leclerc: With the beautiful girl 💞

liked by yournamelovely and 1,283,930 others

>comments

romanempire3: beautiful pair omgg

carlandodestroyer: OLENNA MARKIZ IS LITERALLY MOMMY

obladioblada: does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night...

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yournamelovely: World Tour EP ... featuring three songs: lacy, nonsense and vicious.

liked by 3,283,012 others

>comments

nickdevries: LACY >>>

danielricciardo: LACY >>>

chickenpozes34: WE ARE FED

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"Hey!" you waved at the girl beside you.

It was a charity gala - benefiting the orphans of Europe. To your surprise, you were seated beside Olenna Markiz. The girl's shadow seemed to haunt you all the way to Texas. "Hi, it's nice to finally meet you. I'm such a big fan," she gives you a firm handshake.

There was cautiousness in her posture - like she was trying to determine if you were nice or bad. "Likewise, I love your work with Bottega and Mugler." you named, oblivious to the cameras that were pointed in your direction. "Really? Not a lot of people recognize me, to them we're just girls wearing clothes." she chuckled.

"It's hard to be a woman in this economy, but I assure you - there are lots of people who know how to appreciate art." you complimented. It was your dream to be a model - ever since you were little, you were always fascinated with supermodels. Alas, God didn't grant you with the suitable height required. "I just hope that I meet them soon enough," she whispered to herself, before returning her attention to the man on the stage.

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Olenna didn't know what to expect with her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend. A lot of people in reddit spoke about her bluntness, that she was unapologetically human - often lashing out in her childhood star years. There weren't a lot of posts to go along. His ex valued her privacy, rarely even attended any interviews.

To her surprise, she was pleasant company. Often making jokes that she understood and found hilarious. It was easy falling in love with (Your Name) (Last Name), what Olenna couldn't understand was how Charles fell out of love. "It was nice hanging out with you, maybe we could grab some coffee in the future?" she offered, a foot inside her luxury car. "Sure, I'll give your agent my number." Lena agreed.

Happy to have made a friend.

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LET'S NOT PIT WOMEN AGAINST EACH OTHER

WILL FOREVER BE A GIRL'S GIRL

[navybrat817]

Navy, Navy, Navy! The most wonderful person to grace this app!🫶🏻

This totally gives off Florist Bucky&Petal vibes🥹🥹

https://www.facebook.com/reel/130668179932929?s=yWDuG2&fs=e

Most wonderful person to grace this app, nonnie? I'm not, but you are too kind and I appreciate that. Hope you enjoy this fun size fic.

Aroma

Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky adores domestic moments with you. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Sugary sweet fluff and love, established relationship, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) Graphics talent and thanks: Divider by @firefly-graphics. Moodboard and header by yours truly. A/N: A little for something for my favorite florist for this sweet nonnie.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The second Bucky's alarm rang out in the bedroom, he reached over to shut it off. Not because he wasn't ready to get up, but because he didn't want to disturb your sleep. You still had time before you needed to get ready for the day and he wasn't going to wake you if he didn't have to. Even though he had to get up, he took a minute to hold you closer against his chest.

Breathing you in feels like home.

He hadn't expected to become such a cuddler, a bit afraid in the beginning because of his metal arm, but dating you changed that. More often than not he found excuses to hold you and you never seemed to mind. Feeling your soft frame against him, along with your sweet scent, constantly brought him a sense of peace. It reminded him of being in his shop surrounded by warmth, beauty, and brightness.

My beautiful Petal.

You let out a tiny moan when he rubbed his nose against your neck, smiling to himself when your heart raced faster in your sleep. As much as he wanted to keep you in his embrace, he had an early day at the shop and had to get moving. Placing a tender kiss over your pulse, he carefully tucked the blanket around you as he grudgingly slipped out of bed. He brought his clothes to the bathroom, too, so he wouldn't have to turn on the light and risk waking you.

He did his best to be a thoughtful boyfriend.

Brushing his teeth and taking a quick shower, he reflected on the domesticity of your relationship and how much he loved it. After you cooked dinner together the night before, the blend of spices and herbs lingering in the air, he suggested a documentary he wanted to catch up on. About halfway through, curled up against him under one of your soft blankets, you fell asleep. Instead of turning the television off when he noticed, he took a minute to watch the colors from the screen move along your beautiful face. Once he finally brought you to bed, in just his shirt, he swore he saw you smile sadly in the darkness as you snuggled against him once again.

"Did I miss it?" you asked, cracking an eye open.

"You made it halfway through," he replied, hoping you didn't feel bad for needing sleep.

"Sorry I crashed," you said with a slight pout, confirming his thoughts. "I know you wanted to watch it."

"It's okay," he assured you with a kiss to your forehead. "We can finish it another time."

It didn't matter that you didn't stay awake for it. What meant the most was that you wanted to watch it in the first place because of him. A normal night, seemingly insignificant, but the little things like that shined just as bright as the major moments.

After brushing out his hair and getting dressed, he smiled as he saw the half full bottle of cologne on his side of the sink. He needed to spritz a shirt for you before he left. Grabbing it, he expected you to still be in bed once he left the bathroom. What he found was an empty room and an open door. Frowning as he set the bottle on the nightstand, he heard light footsteps in the kitchen and wondered why you were awake. Did he wake you up? He tried not to make any noise.

The familiar aroma from his favorite coffee greeted him as he left the room and he had to stop to take in the sight of you. Still wearing his shirt and slippers on your feet, you set his to-go mug on the counter and poured him a drink with a yawn. You were likely still half asleep, if he had to guess from your slumped shoulders, and it took a lot of willpower not to drag you back to bed to tuck you in. Breathing a deep sigh, he wondered how you managed to always look so stunning.

“Morning,” you yawned again when you caught him staring.

"Morning," he smiled as he joined you, pulling you into his arms. "Did I wake you?"

"No. You were nice and quiet," you mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder. "Made you coffee."

“I can see that and I appreciate that, but why aren’t you in bed?” he asked when you reached up to play with his hair.

“Just wanted to do something nice because I love you," you said, lifting your head to brush your lips against his. His heart swelled as he kissed you back and he wondered if you knew how much the moment meant to him. "Hope that's okay."

Tempted to drop down on one knee and propose then and there, he stopped himself. He had a plan and wanted to stick to it. “More than okay. Thank you."

I love you, too.

Taking your hand, he pulled you back to the bedroom. "We having a quickie?" you teased.

He chuckled as he grabbed the cologne and sprayed the air directly in front of you, watching your eyes briefly light up from the smell. "Just a spritz as much as you're tempting me. Back to bed."

Not having to be told twice, you ungracefully collapsed on the mattress with a huff.

Adorable and you're somehow mine.

"Have a good day, okay?" you murmured, resting your hand on his pillow.

Bucky fell in love all over again as he bent down to give you one more kiss. How long had he dreamt of finding someone like you? A caring partner who stopped by his shop to bring him food after a long day. Someone who supported his drive to continuously learn, like researching what it would be like to become a dad. And didn't mind getting up early just to see him off for the day.

"I'll have the best day now with the best cup of coffee from the best girl I know," he promised.

And he hoped you had the best day, too.

Our man is so in love! Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[moonlight-tmd]

How about Bumblebee ships where Bee has a protective uncle who is pretty much cybertronian Doomguy?

Also, how would others react to it?

Ya know, i had an idea related to the one with Bee having a decepticon dad.

What if Elita and Bee were actually related?

Like, we all seen how similar these two are, from personality to looks, it would only make sense if they were family. I was thinking of attaching it to the idea of Bee having a 'con dad but let's see if i can cook up something different...

So, I suppose the way it happened is that Bee's parents died cuz war when he was a tiny bitty. Elita, being his aunt, took him in and raised him. Bee was too little to remember his parents so Elita did her best to tell him about them when he was older. Besides her, he didn't have any other relatives.

Then, one day Elita had to leave for some mission. She promised her nephew that she'll be back soon... but she never did. Bee was in the middle of trying pass academy. Elita hired Arcee to look after Bee when she wasn't present, when the news of Elita dying on a mission reached them Bee refused to believe. He knew Auntie Eli better than anyone, he knew that she wouldn't just perish like that. Arcee stayed with him until he was old enough to be on his own, she helped him get around in life to the best of her capabilities.

Bee tried to have a normal job like Arcee suggested but it just didn't sit with him. From all the stories Auntie Eli told him about being an Elite Guard he wanted to follow her pedesteps and become one too.

He got into boot camp and then- hell started. Bee was about to quit completely when he met Bulkhead and Longarm. Still, even with the newfound hope he got kicked out. Bulkhead was kind enough to pull him into the repair crew so he won't stay unemployed.

All this time alone Bee started to slowly lose hope to ever see his aunt again... that's until they crashed on Earth.

First year and few months were quiet but then Decepticons came. And wouldn't you know-

The fight was rather messy, at some point the structures on the demolition zone started to crumble and both parties had to run. Team Prime regrouped after the building fell and the 'cons were gone. Except Bee was nowhere in sight. They searched the entire place but there was no trace of him...

Bee woke up in dark place. His frame ached, made sense considering he remembered being hit with rubble while cornered by a giant spider. What he didn't expect was him laying in some form of medbay in a cave and said spider being the one tending to him.

He was quick to jump to his pedes and take a defensive stand. He demanded answers but the femme only told him to calm down and rest. She had that worried and hurt expression on her that Bee couldn't quite place... at least until she said one specific word.

"I wouldn't hurt one of mine, Sunny." She said at some point of their half-argument. Sunny- that nickname was only used by his aunt when Bee needed comfort.

"Wai- h-how do you..?" Bee's Spark seemed to have a seizure as he tried to comprehend what she just said. She only gave him that small kind smile- an expression that gave Bee a painful realization. "...Auntie Eli?"

She nodded and Bee could only run to her and hug her as tight as her could and cry. They talked, Blackarachnia told him vaguelly where's she's been and what she did in all these years, but she never quite told him why she was a spider- all she said was that it was an accident on a mission. Bee felt so sad for her, she went thru so much all alone. He caught onto the little mention of how ugly she was when she was talking and comforted her- she was his aunt always and forever. He even changed the little nickname 'Auntie Eli' to 'Auntie Ari' cuz her name changed.

After she patched Bee up she took him outside. She told Bee to not tell anyone about it so when he came back to base he lied saying that 'cons captured him but he escaped. The others bought it.

And so Bee sneaks out sometime to go visit Blackarachnia. Sometimes they stay hidden and talk, sometimes they go somewhere far to have fun. Sometimes Bee brings her gifts to use or decorate her not-so-little cave-house. One thing about having an aunt who's a scientist is that she can fix you up like a medic, Bee most often goes to her if he has a crash while doing something behind others' backs. Blackarachnia is the type to care about whether he won that race rather than what he did is illegal, spares Bee hearing a scolding for Primus-knows-which time.

They tried to keep the enemy charade going- despite her going rogue on Megatron, she still hated Optimus and his bunch. That's until one particular fight when Starscream showed up- she was hididng from them cuz some stray organic reported suspicious activity and Star showed up out of nowhere and started fighting them. He threw Bee off a tall building, before others had a chance to do something Blackarachnia swooped in spiderman-style and caught him. Starscream fled and she lowered Bee to the ground and started looking over him to injuries, before others got too close she also fled.

Once they got back to base they were wondering what has happened, in their talk trying to figure out why Arachnia would save Bee, said scout slipped.

He ended up spilling that Blackarachnia is his aunt- of course, she used to behave and look different. He told them that she was supposedly dead but he knew better and hey, it was true! She may not be the nicest person now but she's still family.

I suppose Ratchet would still be suspicious of her cuz he heard what kinda shit she can pull.

Bulkhead has heard the full story of Bee's aunt going missing long ago- he's happy that Bee finally found her but at the same time he's kinda worried cuz she is kinda evil.

Sari is happy for him, she feels bad for the gal but she's mostly happy for them to have found each other. She did ask Bee to take her for a visit but he always said he'd have to ask his aunt first. She may have gotten to meet her one time, it was quite a fun.

Optimus... he feels all shocked, stupid and guilty- Elita never told him nor Sentinel about having a nephew. When he first saw Bee he instantly got remined of Elita, he was also the reason she went missing in the first place... he couldn't look Bee in the optic after that.

I think he would give in and tell Bee. He's ask him to speak privately outside and he'll tell him he knew Elita when they were younger. That they went to the same academy, they were on the same team... that he was on a mission with her and something went wrong and he couldn't help her in time. It didn't matter if Bee hated him afterwards, at least he'll take this weight of keeping it a secret off his Spark. To his surprise, Bee wasn't mad at him. In fact he was sympathetic towards Optimus and even asked if he knew anything more about her. They spend the evening talking about Elita and how she used to be, Bee even said some stuff about her new self from the times he snuck out to hang out with her.

So now that the information is out in the open, Bee doesn't have to hide if he wants to go see his aunt. I think at some point, Bee would ask if he can let her come over for some holiday or something. The others are wary at first but Bee told them she's not gonna do anything- Bee told them that she said 'she won't bother them if they don't bother her' and so far she's been sticking to it. No more trouble from her side. It would be very awkward for Optimus tho- like, imagine if she came over for christmas and it was just this tense atmosphere around the two- at least until Bee brings out the drinks and they start to chat... Bee did not know they used to date in academy. "What others do with their lives is not your business... also, you were too young to know this stuff." Arachnia said when Bee argued why she didn't tell him.

I think at some point Elita Guard would visit and also learn the fact Bee is family with her. Sentinel is on the first fire- Arachnia has heard enough of what he pulled with her dear nephew to want to kill him, and keep reviving him just to keep killing him again and again and again. In the end he only got slammed into the wall and nearly decapitated with a threat of making him go to the deepest of Pits if he ever hurt Bee again. Oh, and she also told him she's Elita before that to add to the injury.

Jazz and Jettwins are kinda scared of her, she can be fun but she can also kill you if you make a wrong move so...

As for the ships reactions- Prowl would be worried cuz Blackarachnia is not someone to play with- but she was Bee's aunt and she did save him so maybe she's not as evil? He tries to stay positive for Bee's sake but he always has an optic on her just in case. (If he wasn't dating Bee he'd be just worried for Bee's safety.)

ShockBee- Blackarachnia knows Shockwave. Shockwave knows Blackarachnia. If she learned that Bee and Shock are dating(when he's disguised) she would take him when no one is looking and threaten to do him worse than Blitzwing if he tried anything with her nephew. Being a double agent also meant a treacherous relationship with someone of the opposite faction, she's not gonna take chances and let Bee become his toy. She'll even make him break up with Bee if need be. Shockwave's processor is working on the highest setting, trying to come up with a solution to make peace with all he got going on in his life. Bee thinks Longarm is scared of his aunt but in reality he's actually scared not knowing what to do.

And finally, BlitzBee. I think Blitz would find out way sooner than the others- meaning that Blackarachnia caught Bee alone in the forest just before Blitz arrived at the meeting. Yeah, they tried to kill each other but Bee managed to calm them down to talk. Both were alarmed and confused that the other talked to Bee like they knew each other...

Blitz was shocked when he heard the same person that messed up his processor is his beloved's aunt. Arachnia was more disappointed and worried than angry but she still hid it behind anger. Blitzwing wasn't the best mech and she didn't want Bee getting hurt by this unstable scrapheap... yeah Bee was not having a good time.

Somehow they all made it out alive and Bee got a little bit of alone time with Blitz. Next time Bee was visiting his aunt of course she demanded answers- Bee assured her that Blitz is good to him and won't do anything to harm him.

Blitz on the other hand felt a bit betrayed that Bee didn't tell him but at the same time he understood why. All of his personalities could not have had a harder time existing with one another... In the end he couldn't stay mad at him for having a family so it was all good.

I think Bee would try to get them to ease up so he tries to get them to hang out more like family. It kind of works? There's still some bitterness towards one another but at least they can talk without making it into an argument.

If the others find out about Bee and Blitz, Arachnia would and will force them to let Bee have a relationship and do some not nice things if they don't.

She may be smaller than most of them but she's definitely someone you DON'T want to mess with. She has ways of making folks suffer more than they can imagine and she will do them if it means protecting her only joy in life that is Bee.

I really like the side idea of Optimus making peace with Elita-now-Blackarachnia and them getting back together. Optimus is just trying to be a good uncle and Bee making it an experience to remember (bad) for his amusement. They grow to like each other tho.

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Yearning | RotB Mirage x f!robot reader | NSFW 18+

Word count: 1000+

Warnings: Smut ( spike in valve and rough interfacing ), dirty talking and daddy kink. NSFW 18+.

Notes: Well this ended up short and sweet, but I'm glad it did. It's about time I give shorter stories and not burn myself out too much with long ones. Ilvoe Mirage he's such a handsome boy! Hope it's to your liking. 🥰

☕ Coffee

While out on missions together you both never really had moments just for each other, and you have to stay focused, otherwise you're putting others at risk. So, keeping all that built up tension bottled up is what you have to do until you are off duty, and that is only when you return back to Noah's garage.

The second you both drive into the garage, you transform and within moments you feel Mirage tackling you bluntly, causing you to grunt out from the impact followed by a delicious moan. To be pounced by your conjunx endura is always erotic, having him being rough and all is one of your ever so beautiful kinks.

"Oh sweet mama, I was almost going to jump you right in the middle of battle, frag you right there, bent over like an mammal in heat, I wouldn't have cared in the slightest." Mirage purrs into your audio as he grinds himself against your aft. You respond by giggling lustfully and grinding back into him, tilting your helm to give him a side look.

"So why didn't you?" You tease through a sultry tone, pressing your aft back against his heated panel firmly, causing him to let out a lingering moan as his baby blue optics shutter in delight.

"You're such a dirty femme." Though he loves it when you play dirty, the filthier the better.

"I'm your dirty femme." You continue to grind your aft against him before reaching behind and grabbing at his cheek plating and tugging him down beside your face plating, and whispering lowly. "Frag me, daddy."

A new human thing you both discover that truly works in your intimate moments. A term of endearment, playful nicknames, dominance, that conveys a sense of intimacy and trust between partners. Not so different from calling him sire, but there's an odd thrillness calling him daddy, a beautiful erotic buzz that rocks through the both of you.

Mirage's optics flash brightly before giggling in glee against your audio. "Daddy loves his baby girl, and he has a special treat for you." His panel retracts and you feel his warm spike emerge out and brush up against your plating making you mewl softly.

"Please daddy, I'll be good for you. I want it!" Your own panel retracts and your soaking valve has a strong smell, letting him get a whiff and causing his frame to quiver in desire.

"Want daddy to be rough, or soft?" He drags his glossa against your audio and you wiggle your waist against him, desperate for something, anything, as long as he frags your valve that's all you cared about.

"Rough!" A half shout erupts from you followed by a satisfied moan as he positions himself and thrusts in firmly, filling you completely in one stroke and presses himself against you, moaning into your audio as you clench tightly around his throbbing spike.

"Oh sweetness, daddy loves your tight valve, so snug." He praises while rolling his waist against your aft, causing you to let out warm moans that vibrate from your chassis.

"Do it, daddy, frag your baby girl hard. I want to not be able to walk tomorrow. I know you can do that, please daddy. I'm a good girl!" You clench more, making him draw out a long purr as he pulls back and snaps his waist back firmly against you, feeling his thick spike pulse through your channels as electric sparks burst throughout your valve.

"Daddy is gonna drill you now."

The feel of him hammering his spike into your valve like a horny rabbit creates a tremor to erupt through you, silky mewls calling out from you over again as his heated vents fill your audio as he keep his movements quick and sharp. He keeps himself drapped across you, pinning your frame against the hard ground as you spread your thighs more for him, while you hold onto him and keep your helm up as you're rutted into the floor with his intense movements.

"Oh so tight! Hmm, yes, baby girl, daddy loves your clenching valve. All mine!" Mirage murmurs through constant moans.

"Yours!" Is what you shout through the rugged pounding "Yes! Frag me harder daddy!"

"Daddy loves you!"

Both of you knew this wasn't going to last for long, already riled up from the missions and holding everything in, it was only a matter of time before you both crumble together.

His spike throbs wildly in your valve, pulsing against your walls as you manage to move your servo to rub yourself, causing you to squeal out in desire, heated vents and cooling fans kicking in as you feel your overload approach. Mirage keeps his movements quick, rutting against your aft and holding you firmly by wrapping his servos around your waist, before letting out a lingering moan that shakes through your frame causing your overload to hit and juices to flood around his spike.

He suddenly stills, thrusting one more time and tossing his helm back as he fills you with his trans fluids, warm ropes soaking through your depths, letting out a garbled moan and drops himself right on top of you, forcing a grunt out of you.

You let out a blissful giggle when you feel him kissing your shoulder as he reamins in you, moaning lowly before turning your helm to kiss him back tenderly.

"I love you, Mirage."

"Love you too, babe." Mirage remains on top of you before you both hear the loud banging on the garage door, followed by Noah's yelling.

"Seriously you two?! I heard all that!"

"You're just a jealous little man!" Mirage fires back through an amused giggle before asking. "Did we give you a wicked boner you little pervert?" The silence is what makes you laugh back.

"Shut up! Keep it down!" Noah is heard storming away like a cranky toddler.

"Poor little man. He needs someone in his life." You hum gently. Noah has been really good to the both of you, and it's no secret from either you or Mirage that you both have a strange attachment to the human.

"Well, he's got us." Mirage hums back making you smile. "Maybe we can invite his cute horny ass to join us next time?"

"Do you think he'll be up for that?"

"Only one way to find out."

Now that's a talk you're looking forward to.

[msnihilist]

The exact photo that Peri wanted to see was right in front of him when the puff of fairy dust faded. It was taken the day of Timmy's freshman year prom, when he was gangly and awkward and brushing his bangs out to try and hide his acne. He hadn't had a date that year, so he had been planning to go with Chester and AJ in a group. 

It was before Mom and Dad had fully realized that Timmy wasn't going anywhere until he was eighteen, and they insisted on staying home for the evening so that Timmy could have a normal night out at his normal high school with his normal, human friends — making good, normal memories that wouldn't be taken away from him.

Timmy probably still remembered that night. But he didn't remember Peri’s favorite part.

For Peri, the best part of the evening had been when Timmy finished getting his suit on and Mom fussed over getting his hair perfect so that she could take a photo.

“Wanda, it's fine! It's not like I have a date tonight, anyway.”

“That's no reason not to look your best, sport.”

Then Dad had interrupted with a laugh, camera in hand. 

“We're never going to get a picture before AJ and Chester get here if you keep it up, Wanda. Timmy looks great!”

And Peri had chimed in—

“Can I be in the picture?”

At the time, it had made sense to Peri that, if he didn't get to go to the party, he could at least be in the photo with his big brother. 

“Of course! I couldn't possibly get my photo taken without you, Poof.”

“You two look so handsome together!”

“Say cheese!”

Peri ran his fingers over the frame, his gaze unwavering even though he had this photo committed to memory. He couldn't place why it was one of his favorites, it just was. He gently knocked his scepter against it, and watched as the moments leading up to the photo being taken played like an old film.

Timmy was grinning as he hefted Peri up into his arms, supporting his back and being careful of his wings. He was always so careful.

“Your tie,” Peri had said, and his clumsy four-year-old fingers yanked on the pink tie around Timmy's neck, making the wrinkles worse. 

But Timmy just smiled, and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes were ones that Peri never wanted to smooth away. He caught Peri's hand in his much larger one, quickly letting go to point at Cosmo with the camera. 

“Make sure you're looking at the camera, Poof. Give it your best smile!”

Peri did smile, but it hadn't been for the camera, or even for Mom and Dad — it had been for Timmy, holding him with ease, always making room for Peri and making him feel cherished.

Wanda’s cooing and Cosmo’s chatter faded as the memory came to a stop. Mindlessly, Peri reached out and played it again. And again. And yet again, his eyes glued to Timmy’s face all the while. 

He wished that the memory was a film; something that he could touch. He wished that the memory was a stream that he could dip his fingers into, feel it all again like it was the first time and not a lifetime ago.

Peri didn't realize that he was crying until tears dripped onto his scepter and his shaking hands. His vision blurred violently and he turned away from the photo, rubbing his face with his sleeve. 

When they lost Timmy, it had ripped their little family to shreds. There wasn't supposed to be only three of them. They had so many photos of Timmy, and yet, every photograph that didn't contain him felt so, so much heavier.

“If Love Is The Answer, You're Home” CH.7: The Trouble With Moving On

[tirsynni]

There's a popular mindset that I'm seeing within fandoms right now, and it's the type of mindset which destroys fandoms and makes enjoying any type of storytelling difficult.

"Well, I don't understand why the character just didn't do this."

"If I was in that person's shoes, I wouldn't have done that dumb action."

"OBVIOUSLY, the character just should have done this."

One, if the character did all of that stuff, there wouldn't be a story to tell. Two, if the character had such a godly, clear perspective of everything and the emotional detachment to complete all of the actions, it would be a boring story. Three, that's not how shit works. That's not how stories work, and that's not how real life works.

"Why did that character run up the stairs? That was stupid of them."

Do you think they knew what genre they were in? How many horror characters know they're in a horror story? Many of them think that if they're in any genre, it's romance or something.

In that specific moment, with the known options available and no information beyond what is immediately in front of them, what option will the character take? The viewer or reader is outside the action. They can pause the movie. They can put down the book. The character doesn't have that option.

Characters within a story are also bound by the laws within that story. If they have the time and ability to think on their options, that still doesn't give them complete freedom of choice. They are still bound by specific options, with each set of options having possible positive and negative consequences.

This character has concerns about his current military operation? What makes more sense? Dramatically going AWOL with all of its possible complications and consequences or staying in line? More often than not, the latter makes the most sense to the character at the time. They think that they have the time and ability to figure everything out. They don't have the information to know just how bad the situation is.

The tragedy within stories and what often makes them fascinating to us is all of the things which binds the characters to their negative choices. A story where a character realizes they're in a horror genre and are completely willing to get the hell out of there... except they can't. Because they can't leave their friends behind. Someone who knows their actions will probably lead to their own death but truly believes that it will benefit their loved ones. Someone who keeps making awful choice after awful choice for all the best reasons and can't back out now: they've gone too far and they're confident that the next choice will make everything better again.

The best characters are the ones whose positives are balanced by their negatives. Their strengths become their weaknesses. A character's confidence becomes arrogance which leads to their doom. Someone's love becomes obsession.

And sometimes, within the frame of the story, the character can make all the right decisions and still fail. As Captain Picard says, that's life, and that also makes for an intriguing story.

I love my fix-its. I love writing how something could have changed to make a happy ending. I rarely want the canon to change unless the writer made that awful ending for stupid reasons, though, like laziness or just going for stupid shock value. Even then, the best fix-its work with the tragedy inherent in the original story.

Darth Vader survives! Now what? It's never implied within the narrative that he thought the bad guys were wrong, after all: he just chose his son over the emperor, chose love and family over the Empire. Him surviving by a change in circumstances doesn't mean happily ever after. It opens a whole new can of worms.

And honestly? Sometimes the characters having two equal choices and choosing the bad, lethal choice is what makes the story that much more heart wrenching, because they were so close to that happy ending, and it was their lack of godly perspective and their mortal limitations which led to their tragic end. That's not a bad thing!

If every character made every proper choice and had no flaws which would impair their decision making, it would lead to a boring story. It would also be jarring within the context of the story and separate the characters from their own universe, elevate them above the narrative instead of allowing them to flourish or wilt within it. It's more fun to dissect what led to those choices than to just say, "Well I would have just done this!"

[fyodoro]

𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧’ 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧’ - 𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠

-> Dan Heng comforting his quiet s/o after they have a nightmare (req by @minimallyminnie)

-> I wanted to write this in a different way from all my other fics. I feel like most nightmare comfort fics have rose tinted lenses over them, so I wanted to take a different approach while also keeping a comfort factor.

Cw) nightmares (obv), implied/hinted ptsd, misunderstandings, nightmare remains vague so no spoilers here, cheating accusations, eventual comfort i swear (sorry minnie)

Dan Heng wouldn't say he sleeps good per say, but he wouldn't say he slept horribly either. Perhaps if he wasn't so alert in his sleep, he'd be able to wake up the next morning and tell March "I slept great."

But that wasn't to say he wanted to rid of that sense of alertness, not at all. In fact, in times like these, he was ever so grateful for training himself the way he has.

You stirred ever so slightly in your sleep. It was brief and quiet, but not to Dan Heng. He always focussed on your movements when you were near. From your body language, to the way you faintly tilted your head when something piqued your interest.

With all the attention Dan Heng given you, it was safe to say he had you memorized.

And the way you were currently stirring in the midst of your slumber was out of character.

It was brief at first, nothing that concerned the young man too much. But his concern grew just as gradual as your distressing movements.

What started as a light shake of the head soon turned into your body violently shaking as you clutched your pillow for dear life. Dan Heng watched over your sleeping frame cautiously, refraining from causing you any more panic incase you were to wake up.

It didn't take a genius to realize you were having a nightmare.

Soft cries emitted from your lips, almost inaudible. But to Dan Heng, they were as loud as the Astral Express making the jump.

He wanted to wake you up, he really did.

But he was aware of the risks of waking someone up from a nightmare, especially someone with your condition. It could be jarring, even making the episode worse in some cases.

He knew it was best to let you wake up on your own, but it didn't stop the way his heart clenched each time you hugged your pillow tighter than before.

“Dan Heng…”

His ears perked up at the sound of his name, were you… dreaming about him? No, it wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare, that was made clear since his senses heightened.

But why would you be calling his name out in the midst of a nightmare?

“Dan Heng!” You jolted up, eyes wide and full of terror. You were panting heavily, as if you had just ran a marathon.

Dan Heng stayed near, examining your features just as he did many times before. He wanted to hold you, comfort you, tell you everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn’t.

If you had been having a nightmare about him, wouldn’t that be the last thing you wanted? The way you shook and avoided his gaze made him believe that was the case.

“I’m… I’m so sorry.” Dan Heng muttered under his breath. He knew deep down he didn’t do anything wrong, but he still felt the need to apologize for whatever his actions caused in your sleeping mind.

You didn’t respond. You were no longer panting however, rather, shaking anxiously. A chill ran up your spine.

It was a warm night.

“You- what did you—“ Your eyebrows furrowed, staring into the dimly lit void in front of you. “You didn’t… right? You couldn’t have…” Ah

Was he sure this wasn’t his own nightmare now?

“I was going to tell you… one day… I can’t run from it, can I?” His voice held hostility. Not to you, but rather, himself. He knew he would have to tell you his origins one day. But he never expected your own consciousness to tell you first.

“You were going to tell me what? That you were cheating on me?” Your voice cracked, refusing to believe that it wasn’t just a nightmare.

“What…?”

“Yeah, you can’t run from that, can you.”

“(Name) wait, you’ve got the wrong idea. I thought you were referring to something else.” He let go if his self restraint and finally reached out for you, only for you to swat his hand away.

“The wrong idea? What else could I be referring to!” You shouted.

“My past!” He yelled.

Dan Heng never yelled.

You went quiet, staring at him in shock.

It wasn’t like you were upset he yelled. More like… shocked. The guilt of your accusations hit you like a brick. But both of your reactions were justifiable to some extent. After all, you just woke up from a nightmare where Dan Heng cheated on you, just to hear him say it was true. On the other hand, he believed you were referring to something else entirely.

It was a confusing situation.

“I apologize- I didn’t mean to raise my voice like that.” He softened his voice, giving you a loving gaze you had almost forgotten about.

“I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that.”

You two sat in silence for a moment, a comfortable silence.