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fablepatron · 1 year ago
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Hi :o)
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blazinbeautywrites · 4 years ago
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Fighter
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Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.
None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me so full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.
Summary: Boxer Zabdiel cuz why the fuck not!
A/N: First of all I’m tagging @flamediel​ cuz this shit wasn’t on my radar until it was brought up. This YOUR fault lmfao. Definitely didn’t intend for it to be this long lmfao. Anyways my laptop was being a bitch so I couldn’t post this but it’s here now.
Length: 1,926 words
Genre: Angst/Smut/Fluff
April was scared. Here she was in the front row watching Zabdiel fight against a man who was at least 100 pounds heavier than him. She told him he was stupid for going up against this guy but he didn’t care. His fearlessness was one of the many things she loved most about him. They’d been best friends for years, though she’d always wanted more. She never pursued him for fear of rejection so she settled for a friendship. She felt someone sit down next to her and she turned to see RIchard snacking on nachos.
“How can you eat right now?” April asked.
“I’m starving! And this shit is entertaining, how can I not eat?” Richard responded.
“I feel like I’m gonna throw up. God I hope he doesn’t get too banged up.” April said. Richard notices that April is breathing heavy and realizes how worried she looks.
“Ay. Zabdiel is a lot tougher than you give him credit for. He’ll be okay. Plus he’s a fucking giant. If he lets this guy beat his ass, imma clown him for life.” Richard laughed. He nudged April’s shoulder, cheering her up a bit as they watched round after round of the fight. 
Zabdiel barely had a scratch and was very light on his feet. April took notice of how winded his opponent was when all of a sudden he lunged at Zabdiel, landing a hard blow to his rib cage. Zabdiel’s screams pierced through the tense air of the boxing venue. April, Richard, and Zabdiel’s trainer ran to his side. He was rolling around on the floor clutching his side but then out of nowhere he got up on his feet, walked up to his opponent and punched him dead in the face. He fell to the floor holding his nose and fainted at the sight of his own blood. Zabdiel was quickly declared the winner as his opponent was out cold on the floor. Both April and Richard looked on in bewilderment at what just happened. Zabdiel quickly left the ring and made his way back to the locker rooms.
“Zab? Zab? ZABDIEL! April called after him. She caught up to him as he started to examine his body. He took note of the giant bruise that was forming on his side.
“FUCK! What asshole takes a cheap ass shot like that?” He yelled.
“Zab calm down, it’s over. You won.” April attempted to reassure him.
“I didn’t win shit. I took a cheap shot just like he did. Had his dumb ass not been fucking squeamish, he wouldn’t have passed out. I won on a damn technicality.” Zabdiel spoke.
“Who the fuck cares? A win is a damn win.” April said. She took one of the many portable ice packs that the gym had and put it up against his rib cage. Zabdiel hissed in pain and yanked her hand away from him.
“What’s the matter with you? I’m just trying to help you. Your being a fucking asshole.” April yelled. Hearing the yelling, Richard ran in and saw them facing off.
“Yo what’s goi-” he was cut off by Zabdiel’s chuckling.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I basically got my ass beat out there and you’re yelling at me? I know you’re like, in love with me or some shit, but this is just pathetic. So thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want, nor do I need your help.” He said. April was completely caught off guard by that. In love? How the hell did he know she had feelings for him and WHY did he throw it in her face like that? Grabbing her purse she threw the ice pack at him then made her way towards the door.
“Fuck you Zabdiel!” April spewed.
“You fucking wish.” He replied. Yep that stung. April’s tears came flooding out and she ran out the door.
“Bruh that was so fucked up and you know it. That girl is one of the few ppl who loves and cares for you and THAT’S how you treat her?” Richard scolded.
“She’ll get over it. She always does.” Zabdiel said.
“You just shit on her bro. I doubt she’ll want anything to do with you now.” Richard said. Zabdiel looked at his friend and went to pick up th ice pack to place on his bruise.
                                                 ____________
It’d been 2 weeks since April has spoken to or even seen Zabdiel. She ignored all his calls, texts, and facetime requests. Though she missed him, he hurt her and she didn’t know if she really wanted to forgive him. She invited her best friend, Remi over for a girls night but she had to work. So here she was on a Saturday night watching low budget horror movies and eating takeout. A few minutes into the dumbest movie she’d ever seen, she hears her doorbell ring. She got up to open the door and immediately wanted to slam it when she saw who was on the other side.
“TWO FUCKING WEEKS APRIL?! Two weeks I’ve been trying to contact you and you just pretended I didn’t exist!” Zabdiel yelled.
“Ugh I thought you were someone else.” April said as she walked away, leaving room for him to enter her house.
“Someone else? What, a guy?” Zabdiel inquired.
“Maybe. Either way it’s really none of your business Zabdiel.” April was loving this.
“I mean if someone is trying to get with my girl-”he stops as he hears her cracking up.
“Your girl? Are you fucking serious right now? Yeah ummm please get the fuck out.” She said. She took him by his arm and tried to force him out of her door but he was way stronger than her.
“Look I love you. I mean I’m not in love with you but I do love you. I’ve always had feelings for you but I never wanted to acknowledge them. I mean you know I’m a player and I never want to hurt you or let you down in any way. Fuck I feel like this is all coming out so wrong right now.” Zabdiel said as he gauged her react. He sat on her sofa and rested his head in his hands.
“You hurt me. You weaponized my love for you and threw it in my face. Who does that Zab?” April asked. She took a seat next to him. He had no answer to give her. All he knew was what he felt in his heart. So he kissed her. She hesitated at first but quickly responded. She kissed him with so much passion it caught him off guard. Zabdiel tugged on her shirt and she moved to straddle him. She immediately felt his hardness and grinded down on him. She elicited a deep, needy moan from him. He gripped her ass and moved her against himself as they made out. He slipped his hand inside of her underwear and felt how wet she was.
“You’re wet already. I’m going to have so much fun wrecking you.” Zabdiel said.  April moaned and began stripping off her shorts. When she went to take off her shirt, Zabdiel stopped her and bit his lip.
“What? Is something wrong?” April asked.
“Nah. I want you to keep it on.” He spoke. He pulled down his basketball shorts enough for his dick to spring free. April stared at him, mesmerized by him. She kneeled down in front of him. And gentle took his tip into her mouth. She teased him with kitten licks as she looked into his eyes, Zabdiel was taken aback as he never expected this from her. He watched in awe as she took all of him down her throat. As good as it felt and as good as she looked blowing him, Zabdiel wanted to be inside her when he came. He helped her position herself above his hardened length and when she finally sank down on him they both let out sighs of relief.
“Jesus fucking christ.” April moaned. She kept her movements slow at first until Zabdiel smacked her ass, signaling for her to move faster. She started riding harder and harder, bringing pleasure to them both. Zabdiel pulled her in for another kiss, meeting her tongue as they made out. He started thrusting into her as he held her in place. April met his thrusts as they fucked each other. She pulled away from his lips and nestled her head in the crook of his neck. She trails kisses and multiple bites up the side of his neck, making him fusk her even harder. He lifted her shirt and began sucking her right nipple then gave the left the same treatment. Then to her surprise Zabdiel stood up, still inside her, and pressed her up against the wall. The new position and the coolness of the wall sent shivers down April’s back. She was in heaven and had no intentions of coming back to earth anytime soon.
“I wanna try something. Do you trust me?” He asked. April nodded and soon she felt Zabdiel’s hand wrapped around her throat. He squeezed a bit and it made her eyes roll back. The way he was fucking her and choking her was sending her to a whole other dimension.
“Yeah, mmmm just like that. Fuck right there right there!” She moaned as he continued to fuck her against the wall. He hit her g spot so effortlessly that she almost passed out as she came. Her orgasm had her spasming in his arms. Zabdiel kept fucking her as he chased his own climax. When he finally came he shot his load deep inside of her, their juices mixing together. He let go of her and April slid down to the floor. She felt their cum dripping down her leg as she tried to steady herself. Zabdiel ran to her bathroom and got a towel to clean her up.
“That was……..something.” He spoke, unsure how to fill the awkward silence.
“Yeah. We should probably uhhhh, shower or something. I mean I’m filled with cum.” She replied. They both laughed, breaking the tension and she led him to her bathroom where they showered, and then got ready for bed.
                                                ___________
The next morning April awoke to Zabdiel’s arms wrapped tight around her. She tried to move but he tightened them and she heard him mumbling in his sleep.
“Zab I have to pee.” She chuckled. He loosened his grip and let her climb out of bed. Once she’d done her business she came back to bed to see him on his phone.
“It’s Richard. Wanted to know where I’d disappeared to last night. Told him I was with you.” Zabdiel said.
“Speaking of last night, we sho-”
“I’m sorry.” Zabdiel cut her off.
“Zab, you don’t have to apologize.” April said, taking a seat next to him.
“Yes I do. I’m an asshole and treated you, my best friend, like shit. You didn’t deserve that. Can we start over?” He asked.
“I don’t know about starting over but, if you want to explore this new side of our relationship then we can.” She said.
“Okay I down.” Zabdiel said as he smiled. He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss. She pulled away and gave him a genuine smile.
“Now get dressed. You’re taking me out for breakfast. I’m starving.” He chuckled as they both got ready to go out. Zabdiel had no idea what this meant for them but he was definitely excited to explore this new side of their relationship.
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cassiopeiassky · 5 years ago
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Black Velvet
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Alright everyone, it’s finally here.  I’ve been sort of salty about the lack of tall!reader fics for awhile now or maybe it’s just the ubiquitous short, petite, drowning in his sweatshirt descriptions that get under my skin but just couldn’t get a decent amount of inspiration to write one.  I have been known to throw in a mention of height randomly in my fics, but my usual workaround to avoid physical descriptions of the reader is to just write Bucky as like six and a half feet tall.  Hes a damn super soldier, he should be taller anyway he did not start out as short as Steve.  So one day I stumbled across this post by @invisibleanonymousmonsters​ and for some reason I can’t explain, an idea was finally unlocked in my brain later that same day.  (Inspired by a song?  Me?  No.  Never.)
It’s kind of all over the place, so buckle in.  It does take a sharp right into smutsville but also ends up flipping a u and landing in flufftown.  I don’t know.  I just write what the muse tells me to write.  
I would like to thank the incomparable @scottish-pepper​ for her amazing help and support while I wrote the thing - I couldn’t have done it without you, darlin.
Bucky x Tall!Reader
Modern day AU - think of a 40s prewar Bucky if he got a chance to grow up and lived in a small town 
Plot:  You have a terrible day of epic proportions but a beautiful stranger in a small town helps to make it better.
Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), smut, mentions of alcohol/drinking/bars, a brief mention of potentially disordered eating, mentions of a thunderstorm, and a very specific shitty family member.
Word count: 12K  Yep.  Knda got away from me
One last author’s note:   This fic includes some ASL dialogue; it is expressed in italics without quotation marks.  ASL is an incredibly beautiful and expressive language, and it’s in 3D!!  It also has its own grammar structure, rules, nuances, and regional differences, just like any other language, and it can be a challenge to fit it into a two-dimensional space.  Taking this into consideration, I’ve decided to write the dialogue with spoken English grammar because my ASL is really rusty and I don’t want to mess it up.
It’s hot.  Like 100 degrees in the shade with 95% humidity hot. The trees are wilted, flowers are drooping, and there isn’t so much as a glimmer of hope for a cloud in the sky to interrupt the sun’s torture of earth’s inhabitants.  The air is thick and still – there’s no movement at all – yet dangerously unsettled.  It’s the kind of weather that if you sneeze, you might cause a tornado in the next county over.  Of course your cousin would choose today of all days to get married.  And of course her mom pressured her into going black tie, increasing everyone’s suffering tenfold.
“I can’t believe I rented a room for this.  I can’t believe I spent $200 on a dress.  Why am I even here?  What did I expect?”  There’s no answer, but of course there wouldn’t be.  You’re alone in your car, driving back to a motel that you might not even stay the night in.  You’d rented a room because you figured you’d have a few drinks at the reception – you wanted to celebrate the bride, she’s one of your best friends – but at this point you might as well just make the hour drive back home.
About a block from the motel you notice a bar tucked behind a gas station.   According to the clock on the dash, it’s only 5:25.
Fuck it.  You deserve a goddamn drink after today.
You pull into the parking lot and are surprised by the number of cars, farm trucks, and motorcycles already parked.  There’s only one redneck limo, thank God – a pickup truck with a 10 inch lift kit and truck nuts hanging off the hitch, and in your experience driven only by incredibly insecure men – so that’s a good sign, right?  It must be a decent place with decent drinks if it’s this busy so early in the evening.  Maybe some of your day can be salvaged after all.
The hot, sticky air rushes in as soon as the car door is opened.  “Gross,” you mutter; the heat hits even harder after the air conditioning in your car.  Glancing over to the passenger seat, you see the hideous shoes your aunt Lydia pressed into your hands upon arriving at the wedding.  “You know what, Lydia?  Fuck you and fuck your ugly shoes.”  You put your heels back on just to spite her.
It’s a small-town watering hole, so of course all eyes are drawn to you when you enter.  And they stay on you as you find a seat at the bar – perhaps it’s because you’re a stranger, perhaps it’s because you’re overdressed.
But probably not.
The bartender approaches while drying his hands.  He’s got dirty blonde hair in a sloppy undercut, a wide, flat nose, and is wearing a concert tee shirt with the arms cut off to show off his full sleeve of tattoos.  
“Do you have blended drinks?”  He nods. “Strawberry daiquiri, please.”
“Sure thing.”
You pull out some cash, tipping generously because your drink is a pain in the ass to make, then look around while you wait.
The bar is cool but not cold, not brightly lit but also not uncomfortably dim, is bigger than it looks, and is even busier than the amount of vehicles in the parking lot would lead you to believe.  On one side there’s a jukebox next to a small stage with an empty but decently sized dance floor.  There are a few high tops, then a gaming area featuring pool tables, dart boards, and a few pinball machines.  On the other side of the bar you see a window with someone selling pull tabs, a station set up for calling bingo, a door to what’s probably the kitchen, and a popcorn machine filled with freshly popped popcorn.  Behind you and scattered generously throughout the building are tables, some with 4 seats and some with 6, and over half of them are occupied.
“Here you go, miss.” The bartender places your drink in front of you with a polite smile.  “Would you like a menu?  The full kitchen is open tonight.”
The thought is nauseating. “Mmmm…maybe later.”
“Too hot to eat?”  At your despondent nod, he grimaces and places a tall glass of ice water next to the daiquiri.  “Thought as much.  I’ll check back in a bit.”  You didn’t notice his name tag until now – his name is Clint, and according to the hand illustrations under his name, he’s fluent in ASL.
Unsure if he’s Deaf and fluent in lipreading or if he’s hearing, you both sign and murmur, “Thank you,” before bringing the drink to your lips.  It’s on the edge of being burned – just the way you like it.  Sipping on the sweet slush is pure bliss, cooling you down from the inside out as it tempers the heat of the rum.
You sign?  He doesn’t speak this time.  It’s not an uncommon reaction.
Yes.  I’m an interpreter.
His eyebrows rise in interest.  What made you go into that?
My high school offered it, and I ended up becoming really good friends with the teacher’s daughter, who is Deaf.  I made a lot of friends, got involved with the community and immersed in the culture, and I just loved it, so I figured, why not do this for a living?  My dreams of being a Triple Crown winning jockey went out the window by the end of 5th grade so…
He laughs, but not unkindly.  Yeah, I suppose you are a bit too tall for that.  But 5th grade?  Damn.   His face lights up, Hey, have you heard of PATH, International?  They’ve got a campus about half hour north of here.  If you like horses, it might be right up your alley.  
PATH International, or Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship, is an organization very close to your heart.  Yes! I volunteer there every Tuesday night.
The look of surprise on Clint’s face is priceless.  No shit? I’m there on Thursday nights!  You must be the other interpreter the kids are always talking about - they LOVE you!  And so do the horses.  You know, I was Ace’s favorite till you came along.  Now he won’t even look at me unless I bribe him with a treat.
You look again at his name tag, and the name clicks.  Wait, you’re Hawkeye!  The one that does the archery demos on horseback for the kids’ birthday parties.
He takes a theatrical bow. The one and only.
Clint “Hawkeye” Barton is nothing short of a legend at PATH.  Profoundly Deaf yet impossibly accurate with speechreading, he manages to blend both worlds perfectly.  He’s also a master archer both off and on horseback, which basically makes him a superhero in the kids’ eyes.  There are whispers that he travelled with a circus as a teenager, that he raises horses, and that he moonlights as a vigilante, but nothing has been verified and from what you’ve been told, he will neither confirm nor deny.  It’s very likely that there’s at least some truth to the horse raising rumor – Ace is technically his horse, he just loans the chestnut gelding to the program.  You’d been dying to meet Clint for a few years now but hadn’t been able to make it work.
It’s so good to finally meet you!
Likewise!  I’ve been meaning to swing by on a Tuesday to see who it is that stole my favorite horse’s heart, but I’m usually here.  His face lights up, Hey, I’ve got some ideas for a field trip for the older kids and adults but I need to team up with an ASL interpreter since I can’t technically work as a Deaf interpreter on my own off PATH’s campus.  You know, rules and shit.  You interested?
Absolutely!  Just let me know.   You dig a pen out of your purse and write your number and email address on a napkin. You know, I’m sorry, but I’m really not sorry about Ace.  He stole my heart, what can I say.
He’s a shameless flirt, but I never thought he’d actually prefer someone else over me.  But now that I’ve met you, I guess I can’t be too sore about it.  He seems to have good taste.  He takes the napkin with a grin and folds it up before putting it in his pocket, then looks to his left when a waitress waves for his attention and nods.  Duty calls.  Let me know if you need anything.
Well, that improved your day considerably.  
For a few minutes, anyway.
“That’s an awfully girly drink for a woman like you.”  A cloud of stale cigarette smoke with an obnoxious sounding man in the middle of it takes the seat next to yours.  
You don’t turn to face him; you don’t even acknowledge him.  If that’s his opening line, then you really, really don’t have the patience to interact with him today. This is the guy that owns the jacked-up truck. You can feel it in your bones.
Clint makes a face from behind the drink he’s making, notices your annoyance, and shakes his head. “Dude, she’s got more alcohol in her glass than you and your four buddies combined, so don’t knock her drink of choice.  She’s also clearly not interested, and way, way out of your league.  Go back to your pull tabs and leave the lady alone.”
You can feel the guy’s eyes on you, but Clint keeps glaring daggers at him and he eventually leaves. You can overhear him tell his buddies, “Thought she’d be an easy lay, but you know what?  Even I have standards.  How do you fuck someone that tall anyway?  I’d need scaffolding!”  They laugh, but you continue to hold your head up high.  It’s nothing you haven’t heard some version of before.  He’s not clever.
Ignore them.  They’re lonely, small little men.
I know.  Thank you.  His protective gesture is touching and completely unexpected.  This kind of thing doesn’t happen very often because most people assume you can handle yourself.  You can – but it’s nice to not always have to be on the defensive, and today you’re at your limit.
No worries.  You look like you had a rough day, I figured you didn’t need Chad making it worse.  Clint winks and turns back to his drinks.
Well, he’s not wrong, but the day can only get better from here, right?  Right.  You nod to yourself then sit back and enjoy your drink.  Clint stops by periodically to chat, but otherwise you’re left alone.
Eventually it’s time for a trip to the ladies’ room, and you do your best to ignore the stares and chuckles that inevitably follow you.  In your semi-formal black dress you certainly stand out in a bar filled with cut off shorts and tee shirts, but that’s not why they’re staring.
In your black satin and lace, modestly platformed stiletto heels – affectionately known as your ‘fuck me shoes’ – you’re well over six feet tall.  Are they uncomfortable?  God yes, but they’re also beautiful and totally worth it.
The bathrooms are at the back of the bar, past the dart boards and pool tables.  You’re almost there when you hear something ping off one of the pool table lamps and see it ricochet across the aisle and onto the top of the glass and wood cabinets housing the pool cues.  
“How – how the hell did you manage that, Rogers?”  A man with dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass heads in your direction.  “You were supposed to throw the chalk to me, not your imaginary friend standing thirteen feet behind me.”
“Sorry, Buck,” a blonde joins him, looking appropriately apologetic.  “My aim was a little off.”
“Ya think?”
You slow your pace to watch them.  The guy with the dark hair is gorgeous – well, they both are, to be fair – but the one…damn.  His maroon tee shirt is fitted enough to show off his beefy physique, and his jeans hug his thighs and ass like they were made for him.  He throws off an air of cocky confidence with just a hint of danger, lending a genuine feel to his bad boy image.  Should you…maybe?  No. No, you absolutely should not. You’re not in the right mindset to try to soothe a man’s threatened masculinity just for a bit of company.
He and the blonde reach for the wayward chalk, but it’s just out of their reach.  It’s amusing to watch them try to grab for it, but you take pity on them eventually.
Time for your good deed of the week.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.”  Stepping between the two, you reach up and effortlessly pluck the blue cube from its spot before dropping it into the dark-haired man’s hand with a smile.  “Here you go.”
Wide blue eyes look up into yours, but he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even smile.  He just stares.  Figures.
The blonde looks between you and his companion before clearing his throat.  “Thank you, ma’am.”
The unspoken rejection from the brunette stings.  Normally it wouldn’t get to you, but after today?  It does.  It really does.  So you swallow against the burning thickness in your throat and force back the tears with a fake smile.  “You’re welcome.”  A few more steps and you’re in the ladies’ room, which only serves to make matters worse when you step into an open stall.  As you turn around to lock the door, you can see your entire head in the mirror, poking out above the top.  A pair of women walk in and they giggle, so you quickly sit down.  There’s no point in taking it personally – it actually happens quite a bit in older buildings and you can fully admit that the sight is pretty funny – so you compose yourself and do what you came in to do.  You slouch when you stand in order to avoid accidentally looking into one of the neighboring stalls and go to the vanity to wash up.
Even the sink mocks you by making you bend almost in half to reach the water.
A woman with dark hair and bright red lips exits the far-right stall and joins you at the mirror.  “Oh wow, your shoes and dress are so pretty!”
“Thank you.”
“Did you come from the wedding at the ballroom?”
“Mmm hmm.”  You glance at her shorts and flowery sleeveless top and swallow your sigh – you feel like a fucking behemoth next to her.  “I think maybe I should have stopped by my motel room to change.”
“No, you look really nice!” She smiles up at you, “It’s really not unusual to have people dressed up in here on the weekends, you’re just earlier than we usually see it.  I’ll give you a tip, though, in case your feet start to hurt.  I know the place looks kinda crusty, but the owners take a lot of pride in it.  The floors are clean if you choose to go barefoot.”
Her unexpected kindness surprises you; you’re usually shunned by other women when you’re at a bar because all they see is your height, which they erroneously perceive to be an advantage in attracting men.  “Thank you. That’s really good to know.”  She turns to leave but you stop her when you notice something wrong with her shirt. “Hey, hon, you’re missing a button.”  The poor girl is busty, and she’s likely been flashing an unintentionally generous amount of cleavage for who knows how long.
She looks down and immediately sees the gap in her shirt.  “Well, shit.  I just bought this shirt.  No wonder some of the guys couldn’t look me in the eye.  Stupid boobs, always trying to pop out.  Why can’t they just make clothes that fit real people?”
“I feel ya,” you mutter as you start digging through your purse.  “Hold on, I’ve got something…here, try some of this.”
“Scotch tape?”  She looks confused as she takes it.
“Double sided tape.”
Her eyes get wide as she gazes up at you.  “You’re a genius.  And an angel. An angelic genius!”  She takes some and fixes her shirt, smiling brightly. Thank you so much!!”
Despite your incredibly shittastic day, you find yourself warming to her.  She’s nice.  “You’re welcome!  I didn’t want a bunch of creeps leering at you.  In a world of Chads, we women really need to stick together.”
“Oh, God, you met Chad?” She grimaces and shakes her head, “I’d like to apologize on behalf of the entire town.  He and his friends are not a good representation of the rest of us, I promise.  They don’t even live here, they were just permanently banned from the bar in the next town over and now they’re our problem, apparently.  But I promise, the rest of the people here are alright.”  She sticks out her hand, “I’m Peggy, by the way.”
You shake her calloused hand and give her your name.  “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too. If you feel like some company, just come find me.  My friends and I will probably be here for a while, and you’re more than welcome to join us.”
“Thank you, I might just do that.”  You flash a smile, genuine this time, and go back to your seat at the bar.  What the hell, maybe you’ll take her up on her offer after you finish your drink.  
A minute passes, maybe two, before someone takes the barstool next to you.
It’s him.  The gorgeous brunette.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”  You want to roll your eyes at your reply. Smooth.  Real smooth.
“My uh, my friends pointed out that I was rude earlier, so I wanted to apologize.”
You turn to him quizzically, giving him your full attention.  Is this really the same guy that was playing pool?  The sexy one that projected ‘bad ass’?  “For what?”  
His cheeks grow pink and it throws you off guard.  “It’s not nice to stare.  My ma taught me better than that – she’d slap me into next week if she saw how I acted. I ain’t usually like that, I’ve just never seen, uh…”
Here it comes.  The ‘I’ve never seen such a tall woman’ comment that leaves you feeling like a roadside circus freak show.
“Well, you just got an amazing smile.”
Wait, what?  “Huh?”
“I’ve never seen such a pretty smile.”  He shrugs and studies the bar top.  “Your eyes looked sad, though.  I dunno. I guess I was tryin’ to figure you out.” He turns back to you with an almost obnoxiously handsome grin, “My name’s Bucky Barnes.  Can I make it up to you?  Buy you a drink?”  
You narrow your eyes at him, trying to gauge his intent.  He seems genuine enough – he’s either a brilliant actor or you seriously misjudged him, which, in your current cynical mindset, is entirely possible.
You look up to see Clint watching as he dries some glasses.  Maybe he has some insight.  Is this guy decent?  He’s gorgeous but does he have a personality?  
Clint snorts, glancing at Bucky then back to you.   Yeah. He’s a pretty good guy.  He’ll treat you right.
Bucky looks like he’s swallowing a smile when you turn back to him.  “Yeah, I guess you can make it up to me.”
“Really?”  He seems genuinely happy at the prospect.
“Sure.”
“Great!”  Apparently that’s all the invitation he needs to turn on the charm.  “So what’s a gorgeous girl like you doin’ in a dump like this?
“It’s not that bad,” you laugh.
“No,” he shakes his head sheepishly, “It’s not.  Guess I’m really off my game today.  I can usually flirt, I promise.”
A beer and another daiquiri appear on the counter.  “Thanks, man,” Bucky nods to Clint.  “Hey, you wanna grab a table?”  He nods his head to the side of the bar by the jukebox.  “It’s quieter there.  We can chat and I can show you that I ain’t, in fact, the dumbass I’ve made myself out to be.”
“Yeah, okay.”  Why not?  Even if you don’t know Clint enough to trust him, the kids that you work with do, and you trust their judgement.  So if Clint says that Bucky is decent, you’ll believe him.
***
It ends up being a good choice.  Bucky turns out to be more than decent – he’s really nice, funny, respectful, keeps his eyes where they belong, and doesn’t ask if you play basketball.
He asks the basic questions and learns that you live about an hour north of here, that you’re an interpreter, you love to read, write, and draw, and yes, you were at a wedding. Tired of talking about yourself, you take advantage of him pausing to drink his beer and flip the topic.
“So what do you do?”
Bucky takes a deep breath and sighs. “I’m a mission systems engineer with NASA.”
You blink at him.  “I’m sorry, you’re what?”
“A mission systems engineer with NASA.  I know, I –“
“Do you have top secret clearance?”
He looks thoroughly confused.  “That’s your first question?”
“Do you?  Or would you have to kill me if you told me?  Have you been to space?  Does the government have a plan for if an asteroid comes our way, or would we have to do like the movie Armageddon and wing it with a bunch of oil rig operators?”
Bucky appears to be absolutely delighted at your string of questions.  “Well, yes, no, unfortunately no, and I can’t tell you that because has to do with national security.”
“Fascinating.”  You sit back, thoroughly intrigued by the man sitting across from you. “What the hell are you doing in a podunk town like this? Shouldn’t you be in Houston?  Or D.C.?”
“I live here.” He chuckles at your unimpressed stare. “Yeah, I know it’s a small town – we got a bar, three churches, a motel, a gas station, and a diner that closes by 7 pm every day.  Our biggest draw is the ballroom on the lake shore and the hunting grounds in the fall. It ain’t exactly the heart of modern technology.  But I grew up here, my family and friends are here, and I stick around to help out on their farm.  I fly into Headquarters a few times a year, but otherwise I work remotely.”
“So what do you do?”
“The general gist of it is that I lead a team that designs, develops, and deploys missions.”
“To space?”
“Well, I mean, I work for NASA…”
“What are you working on now?”  You can’t help peppering him with questions – this is so fucking cool.
His eyes sparkle.  “You got top secret clearance?”
“No.”
“Sorry.  Can’t tell you anything,” he shrugs with a smirk.
“I…yeah, I guess I kind of walked right into that.  Wow.  So you’re really freaking smart.”
“I hope so!”
“Do you like it?”
“Being smart?”
“Your job, dipshit.”
He laughs, freely and openly, and it’s an amazing sound.  “I love it.”
You can’t help but stare at him.  “Wow. That’s…that’s just really, really fucking incredible.”
Bucky gets quiet.  “It is really incredible.  Thank you for thinking so.”  He looks up, then back down as he starts peeling the label off his empty bottle of beer. “You know, you’re the first person I’ve told about my job that didn’t either tell me I don’t look smart enough to be a mission systems engineer or ask me how much money I make.”  He meets your eyes again.  “Or both.  I get that a lot, too.”
You certainly know how shitty it feels to get those kinds of unsolicited comments based solely on appearance.  It’s one thing to have an impression, but to just say those things out loud?  “Well, they suck.  And they’re truly shallow if they think intelligence has anything to do with how you look.  But hey, at least they show their true colors right away so you can save yourself some time.” You lean forward, chin in hand, “Okay, so I know you can’t tell me about your actual projects, but can you tell me about your job?  What are your responsibilities?  What does a mission systems engineer do?”
Bucky lights up like New York City and spends the next 40 minutes going into detail about what he does, and you hang on every word; it’s impossible not to, really.  His enthusiasm for what he does is so evident that even if the topic weren’t interesting, you’d still be entranced.  And you thought he was gorgeous before?  His animated passion makes him absolutely breathtaking.
You’ve both finished your drinks and, perhaps not so surprisingly, he switches to soda when you do. When unordered appetizers arrive with your new drinks, you both look over to Clint, who just winks and shrugs.
“Well I ain’t gonna complain.  Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”  Bucky shoves an entire ham and cheese ball into his mouth, but then has to hasashafahasa because it must have just come out of the fryer.  “Ish hot!  Rearry hot!”
Bursting into laugher, you slide your ice water to him before cautiously taking a bite of your buffalo wing. Considering how much fun you’ve had in the last hour, it isn’t all that surprising that your appetite has returned. “Me neither.”
The hours fly by as the conversation eventually turns to other topics, and you find yourself talking about things you wouldn’t expect considering you’ve just met.  Bucky seems so open and honest that it’s difficult not to reciprocate, and if one doesn’t go into detail about what the other asks, it’s only because there’s so much to cover.  
Bucky dips the last bit of pretzel into the beer cheese sauce and pops it into his mouth.  “So if you don’t mind me asking, what made those pretty eyes of yours so sad?”
You take a long sip of your Coke Zero as you debate your next move.  Deflect or come clean?  You surprise yourself when you blurt out, “My aunt, Lydia.”
“Your aunt?”
You squirm a bit at the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability, but you keep going.  “Yeah.  It was her daughter that got married today.  Marie and I grew up together – Lydia is my mom’s only sister, so she was the one that took care of me when my mom had to work double shifts, which was a lot. She did the best she could, and she means well, she really does, but she’s just so caught up with appearances. My height is a, uh, a definite sore spot with her.”
“Really?  Why?  What does it matter?”
“I think it comes down to the appearance thing.  Tall women are generally seen as less feminine, even straight up masculine.  Lydia is tall, too – not quite as tall as me, but close.  She claims that she got her husband through making herself appear daintier.  She only wears flats and follows all the newest fad diets to make herself as small as she can because she feels that being a tall woman puts her at a distinct disadvantage.”  You shrug, “She was one of the primary examples I grew up with. And to be fair, it’s not like she’s completely wrong.  In my experience, guys tend to feel emasculated by me.  And it’s not just men that seem to see me through a distorted lens.  Even from a young age – I’m talking 4th grade – I’d hear teachers tell my mom that I seemed so much more mature than my peers, that I didn’t need as much support, emotional or academic, as everyone else.  I got additional responsibilities and higher expectations.  The thing is, I wasn’t more mature.  I was just tall, so I looked more mature.  Eventually it kind of came true, though.  Other than my mom, who was single and working 2 jobs to keep me housed and fed, I didn’t really have anyone that would protect me or support me.  I guess no one thought I needed it, so I just got used to doing it myself.”
Bucky shakes his head, and you can’t tell if his expression is one of pity, sadness, anger, or something else.  
“But Lydia made everything a hundred times worse than it needed to be.  I already knew I was outside the norm, I didn’t need the reminders. But every time I’d hit a growth spurt she would share some nasty comment on it, as if telling me that boys didn’t like tall girls would somehow stop my bones from stretching.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Mmm hmm.  Despite my mom’s efforts – and the fact that being tall is actually pretty awesome – Lydia’s words really got under my skin, and even now they undermine my confidence sometimes.”  You gesture to yourself and the bar, “Obviously.  I should be at my cousin’s wedding right now.  I don’t go to many family functions anymore, because of her.  It just…it puts my head in a bad place.  You know, they say it takes five to seven positive comments to balance out one negative comment?  The negative is in everything she says.  Everything.  I love my family to pieces, but I just can’t handle her.”
“What did she say to you today?”  If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Bucky is getting pissed.  
“She met me at the door of the chapel with a pair of her ugly black penny loafers.  Said that she told the photographer that I wasn’t allowed in any family pictures unless I was wearing them, because she didn’t want my Amazonian ass towering over everyone else and ruining the aesthetic.”
“Your…your ‘Amazonian ass’?”
“Eh,” you shrug and wave your hand dismissively.  “It’s not the first time I’ve been called an Amazon and far from the worst thing people have said. I mean, people say it to be cruel, but Amazons were fearless warriors.  I just think of it as being put in the same class as Wonder Woman.  The part that hurt was that she was prepared to make sure I wasn’t in the pictures, that she thought she could just erase my existence, simply because I’m too tall for her liking.”
Bucky’s mouth drops open. “I might be overstepping here, but what a heartless bitch.  No one should ever try to erase you, what a fucking idiot.”
“She browbeat Marie into dyeing her hair blonde for the wedding.  Marie hates it, but did it for her mom’s approval.”  You release a deep sigh, “But that’s Lydia, and that’s why I took my Amazonian ass out of there the second the ceremony was over.”
“Hmmmm.”  He gazes at you.  “You know she’s a princess, right?  
“Huh?”
“Wonder Woman.  She’s a princess. You know…Amazon Princess…it actually kinda suits you.”
“Seriously?”
“Damn right I’m serious. You’re tall?  So what.  You’re fuckin’ royalty.  Own it, Princess.  Correct ‘em. Make ‘em say it.  Amazon Princess.”  
“What?”
“Yep.  Say it with me.  Amazon Princess.”
You can’t help rolling your eyes, but there’s something undeniably sweet about the way he’s pressing the issue. It’s not good enough for him that it doesn’t bother you – he wants it to be seen as a term of empowerment and to let people know that’s how you see it.
The moment is interrupted when a booming voice comes through the sound system.  “Alright everybody, it’s ten o’clock!”  Someone stands on the stage, holding a mike and looking more than a little tipsy.  “You know what that means!”
The bar cheers, “Free jukebox!”
A line forms immediately, and the music starts.
“Wanna dance, Princess?”
“Really?  You’re going to call me ‘Princess’ now?”
He shrugs with darkening eyes and a suggestive smirk.  “If it’s okay with you.”
If he keeps looking at you the way he’s looking at you right now, he can call you whatever he damn well pleases.  But he doesn’t need to know that.  “Yeah,” you murmur.  His gaze is so intense that you have to look around the bar to break it and gather your thoughts.  You happen to see Peggy; she’s standing next to the blonde that had been playing pool with Bucky, so she must know him.  She catches your eye, sees who you’re with, and gives a thumbs up with a huge grin. Well, alright then.  You grin back and remember what she said.  “Let’s dance.”
Bucky stands, stopping when he sees you toeing off your heels.  “Woah, what’re you doing?”
“Taking off my shoes?”
He shakes his head, “Princess, you don’t need to do that.  I ain’t too fragile to dance with a woman taller than me.”
“I know,” and you do, “But I can’t dance in these.  And my feet hurt.”
When you stand, you’re almost eye to eye with Bucky; if he were barefoot as well, you would be.
People are still lined up at the jukebox, selecting their favorites.  It’s exactly the mix you would expect from a place like this – classic songs like Brown Eyed Girl, Summer of ’69, and Footloose with more modern tunes sprinkled in  – the kind of music that gets everyone up and dancing.
Bucky is a great dance partner, and you’re having an absolute blast.  You don’t think about your aunt, the wedding that you’re supposed to be at, or how you are, without a doubt, the tallest woman in the bar.  He laughs, showing off the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, obviously enjoying himself, too.  
The jukebox switches songs again, and on comes the relentless, even rhythm of Black Velvet.  For the first few measures, you just stare at each other.  It’s the first song to play that isn’t upbeat, and you don’t know what to do until he makes the first move and pulls you close – close enough to breathe each other in. He stares as Alannah Myles’ smokey voice drifts over the steady bass, then spins you so your back is to him.  
If Bucky’s a good dance partner for upbeat music, he’s even better when it’s slow like this, when every move counts.  He’s enough to handle you, and more than confident enough to do so.
Bucky stays behind you, mirroring you with his hands resting gently at your waist.  Your back is against his chest, but his hips keep their distance. Just to experiment, you press yours back and hear a guttural “fuck” before he intentionally shifts.
Bucky is absolutely nothing that you expected.  “You’re a gentleman.”
You can feel the dark chuckle rumbles through him. “I wouldn’t say that, Princess.”  He spins you around, pulling you close but not too close, and runs his thumb along your neck.  “I just ain’t in the habit of taking what ain’t mine.”
His voice sends a shiver down your spine.  Fuck. You like him.  One night stands aren’t usually your thing…but that’s not what this feels like.  He feels familiar.  Safe.  You like him, and he sure seems to like you. Your mind is already made up – you’ll take the chance and see what happens.  You hardly recognize your own voice when you ask, “Do you want me to be?”
“Thought I was makin’ it obvious.  Yes.”  He doesn’t hesitate and his eyes don’t leave yours.  “Are you offering?”  
You move your hand to the back of his neck and lightly scratch, watching with satisfaction as his pupils dilate even more than they were.  His lips part when you pull him closer, but he waits for you to close the kiss.
The second you do, his hands slide down to your lower hips before he tightens his grip.  He’s not timid; he kisses you as though you’re a well-known lover, deeply and intensely, without bothering with introductions.  
Bucky suddenly breaks the kiss, spinning you around again to pull your back against his chest.  This time, though, he allows his hips to rock into yours with the rhythm of the music, slow and steady and insatiable.  The way he moves makes it impossible not to think about fucking him; hell, you’re practically halfway there already.  His hands alternate holding you tightly to his body, maximizing contact, and running up and down your sides.  Your head falls back when his mouth finds your neck, and your legs go weak when his teeth nibble that spot beneath your ear.
You’ve never been so turned on in your life.
His voice is thick when his lips find your ear, “Wanna get out of here?”
You nod, taking his hand to lead him back to the table to collect your things.  “I’ve got a room at the motel a block away.”
“Good.”
When you take one last look around, you see Clint, still behind the bar, grinning at you like an absolute idiot.  Have fun!
“Oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, but you can’t completely hide the smile.
You step outside to find that the unbearable heat of the day has eased somewhat now that the sun has set. It’s still warm as the humid air kisses your skin, but with the breeze it’s sultry rather than oppressive.
You and Bucky look up at the same time – the stars are barely visible through the haze of clouds. There’s a thunderstorm rolling in on the western horizon.
Bucky walks you to your car, making sure you’re in safely before getting in his own truck and following you to the motel.  He jumps out of his vehicle and pushes you against the car the second you’re out of it, kissing you like it’s been days and not 2 minutes since his lips were last on yours.  
He doesn’t stop until the first few raindrops hit your skin.  Bucky looks up while you grab your purse and your aunt’s shoes out of the car, gathering them clumsily before locking the door.  It takes a minute for you to get your room key out of your purse, but you finally manage.
“Looks like the storm is already here.  Gonna be a good one if it got here that fast.”  He takes your hand, “Which room are you in?”
“Up the steps, furthest door on the left.”
Bucky leads you to the stairs as you both laugh while trying unsuccessfully to dodge the increasingly fat drops of rain.  He doesn’t let go of your hand until you need to unlock the door, and the second you hear the click of the lock, his lips are on yours again.  He pushes the door open and guides you through, closing the door behind him with a well-placed kick.  You drop your purse and the loafers, then step out of your heels as he toes his shoes off.  Still connected at the lips, he doesn’t see the things on the floor and trips over one of your stilettos.
“Oh shit!”  His eyes are huge, staring up into yours when he realizes he isn’t going to hit the floor because you’ve caught him by the arm. “Good catch, Princess.”  Both of you start laughing as he stands up straight, but the laughter dies out when his mouth find yours again.  Hungry hands roam your body while you reach beneath his shirt so your fingers can explore the taut muscles you just know are hiding beneath it.  Bucky grabs the collar behind his neck and pulls the shirt off altogether, and you are not disappointed.  “You like what you see, huh?”  
“Damn right I do.”  You’re breathless, pressing your lips against the salty skin of his collarbone.
“You sure know how to use that mouth of yours, don’t ya?”  He groans, then reaches down to grab the hem of your dress to lift it over your head before tossing it to the side.   “Goddamn, darlin.”  Bucky eyeballs you like a starving man at a feast before his mouth is back on yours, then moves his lips to the top of your breasts while he reaches around to unclasp your bra.  It joins your discarded dress as he pulls you close, groaning at the feel of your naked breasts pressed against his chest.  “I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve you walkin’ into that bar tonight,” he bites your neck and you can’t stop the light whimper, “but I ain’t gonna complain. I’m gonna make you feel so good, Princess, I promise.”
You believe him.  And you cannot wait.
The two of you somehow manage to take a couple of steps toward the bed.  “I’ve wanted to do this since you smiled at me after givin’ me that chalk.  Those eyes, that smile, that dress, those fuckin’ sexy shoes.”  His hands find your hips, hooking your panties with his thumbs to push them down so you can step out of them.  “When we started dancin’ all I could think about was what it would feel like havin’ your legs wrapped around me, I want you so damn bad.”
You unbutton his jeans and fumble with the zipper, then pull his jeans and boxer briefs down at the same time, freeing a fully hard cock that is nothing short of glorious.  “Then either figure out how to multitask or stop talking and fuck me already.”
Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.
He kicks off his remaining garments before pushing you against the nearest vertical surface – which happens to be the middle of the window, where there’s a strip of metal supporting the two panes of glass.  You aren’t sitting on the ledge, just leaning against it to keep your balance.  It occurs to you that maybe you should close the curtains, but you’re too far gone to care enough to do anything about it.
“Don’t you worry, Princess. I can do both.”  His arm is looped around your waist to hold you steady while your upper back presses against the cold strip of metal.  You’ve got one arm hooked around his neck and the other steadying yourself on the edge of the windowsill.  Bucky reaches down, takes hold of your thigh and lifts it to his hip. He lets go of your waist just long enough to guide his cock to your entrance – and he can slide right in because you’re so damn wet – and fuck, the way he stretches you is delicious.
“Christ, you’re so damn fuckable,” he moans in your ear, sending shivers throughout your entire body. “So fucking perfect…don’t need a bed or a chair, I can fuck you anywhere I want.  I could just bend you over, wouldn’t even need a wall.”  Between his thrusts, which are as maddeningly steady and slow as his dancing, the cool metal of the windowpane at your upper back, the flickers of lightening, and the crashes of thunder, it’s almost sensory overload. He’s holding you so tightly that you can’t move your hips much, so you’re completely at his mercy.  And he knows it.
Each move he makes is a sin; the angle you’re at all but guarantees he’s stroking your clit with every move.  Delirious with the sensations flooding your brain, you can only babble nonsense.  
“What’s that, Princess? Use your words, darlin,” Bucky
“So…so good…I, huh…”
He chuckles darkly, “What was that?”
He’s not playing fair but you really don’t mind – his confidence with you is a rarity and is such a fucking turn on.  “More.”
“More?  You want me to fuck you harder?  Is that right?”  He waits for your nod before flashing a wicked grin lit by lightning, then adjusts his grip on your thigh.  “Anything you want, Princess, you get.”
His thrusts come harder and faster, multiplying your pleasure tenfold.  Then he shifts his hand on your thigh, changing the support from holding it up to pushing it back, opening you further and allowing him to go even deeper.
Oh, oh fuck…
Your entire body clenches with your orgasm, so tightly you can’t even breathe, and your mouth opens in a silent scream.
Bucky follows you just seconds later with a growl of your name against your neck and a few last ragged movements.
He releases your thigh as he gently pulls out, but he doesn’t take his arm from around your waist. You lift yourself onto the windowsill, pulling him between your legs as you hold each other close and catch your breath while the storm rages outside.  He keeps his face buried in your neck as you run your fingers up and down his back, calming you both.  The thunder rumbles violently while lightning dances in the sky, but it doesn’t worry you. You’ve always found comfort in the chaos of a storm.
Eventually your legs start to fall asleep, so you begin to move.  Bucky notices and hikes both of your thighs up to his hips before guiding your arms up around his neck.  “Hold on, Princess.”  He reaches down and lifts you, carrying you the 5 feet to the bed.  After laying you down, he begins kissing you again, then starts exploring your body.  “I love being cradled in your thighs like this, but there’s something else I wanna try,” he whispers as he starts crawling down.  “Now I can take my time with you.”
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where he’s going.  “Really? Um, maybe I should shower first?” You’re sweaty from the heat of the day and just had some really incredible sex, so there’s no doubt in your mind that things are less than fresh down there.
“If you want to.”  He keeps on his slow descent, kissing everything in his path, “But I’m happy with you just like this.  I want you, right now, as you are.”
“But don’t you –“
“No.  I don’t.”  There’s a challenge in his eyes when he looks up from his destination.  “I don’t care.”  And then Bucky dives in, devouring your pussy like he’d devoured your mouth.  He’s got you writhing in moments, all worries gone. But he’s a goddamn tease now that the initial urgency has been satisfied, bringing you to the edge and then backing off again and again in a beautiful torture.
You can’t do dirty talk to save your life, but you’re about to start begging when he finally looks up, chin glistening before he wipes it away with the back of his hand.  “Fucking delicious.”  Between the sight of him, his voice, and the sensations you’re feeling, your brain just about short circuits.  Then his fingers start to circle your entrance, teasing you, making you want more before he slowly pushes two in and curls them to press against that spot, and fuck it can’t feel any better, but then somehow it does.  You pull a pillow over your face but he shifts, reaching up to yank it back off and throw it across the room.  “No way, Princess, I wanna hear what I do to you,” he rasps, watching you with hungry eyes and a feral grin.  You’re almost there…almost…and then he puts his mouth back on your clit and your universe implodes.
One orgasm blends into another and you allow him to push your limits until you can’t handle it anymore. “Stop,” you gasp, and he does immediately.  “I’m – it’s too much.  I��wow.” You’re so oversensitive at this point that if he breathes too hard, you might jump out of your skin.
Bucky crawls his way back up to you, dropping kisses on your hot skin as he goes.  “You’re incredible, you know that?  I love how your body responds to me, I fucking love it.”
He kisses you again, and despite your sensitivity, your hunger for him grows.  Sitting up, you pull him with you then push him down to the mattress.  “Fuck yes,” he whispers hoarsely when you straddle him and slide down, pausing to glide your pussy along his hardened cock, but then you slide down a little farther before spreading his legs so you can kneel between them.  
It’s impossible not to groan aloud when your hands find his thighs; thick, tight, and incredibly well formed, they look like they were sculpted by a generous god.  “I might have to ride one of these later.”
“Please –“  Bucky swallows hard and licks his lips as he watches you in the dim, sporadically flickering light, “Please do.”
One hand moves to palm his balls while you part your lips to take him in as far as you can, reveling in his heaviness on your tongue while using your hand to stroke the base of his cock. You give it a bit, waiting until he’s writhing beneath you before you pull off and redirect your attention.  His eyes grow wide when your fingers start moving down beneath his balls to his taint, pressing gently to find the very root of his cock which will then lead you to the spot you’re looking for.  Pressing firmly when you find it, you begin rubbing tight circles.
“What are you – oh.  Oh.  Oh, fuck, Princess, oh fuck!”
It’s ridiculously satisfying to see him reduced to the same whimpering, quivering puddle you were not so long ago.  You make him come once, twice, three times without ejaculating, just because you can.  
Bucky’s got his forearm resting over his eyes as he shakes his head, and you take advantage of his distraction to shift your body into position.  “Holy shit.” He’s breathless, shaking,  “I did not know I had a spot that could do that.  Fuck.  I – oh Christ…“
You slide onto his cock, smiling when his hands automatically reach to grip your hips – the biology and technique can be explained later.  Leaning over, you kiss him deeply then stretch your arms above him to grip the headboard.  Rocking your hips slowly, so slowly, you watch him watch you.
Bucky’s lips form words but nothing comes out except for sighs and soft moans as you become more and more intoxicated by his need for you.  His hands wander up and down, touching your breasts, hips, ass, and everything in between until he pulls you down for another kiss.  “Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are?  You feel so good.  So fucking good.  Wanna make you feel good.  As good as you make me feel.”  Bucky kisses you again, sloppily, then wraps an arm tightly around you before flipping you both.
Now that you’re on the bottom and he’s back in control, he picks up the pace considerably.
You certainly aren’t about to complain.
His hands are grasping yours, holding them over your head, and your legs are locked around his hips as his thrusts eventually begin to lose their impeccable rhythm.  
Now neither of you are in control.
The pleasure has been steadily building, an inevitable tidal wave on the horizon.  Maybe it’s his confidence, maybe he’s naturally gifted, maybe it’s that his body seems to fit with yours just right.  Whatever it is, this is by far the best sex you’ve ever had, and despite already having multiple orgasms, your appetite for him seems to be insatiable because you’re greedy for the next one.
“Fuck, Princess, it feels so good having those legs wrapped around me,” he pants, “Goddamn, I can – I can feel you’re right there.  I ain’t gonna last much longer, come for me, darlin, give it to me now.  Oh Christ yes, that’s right, just – just like that.”
Your body obeys, giving him exactly what he wants.  The velvet sound of his voice, his incessant dirty talk, the way he smells and tastes – everything about him adds to your pleasure induced stupor.  The orgasm is so powerful that everything but Bucky goes black, and the only thing keeping you tethered to this world is the way he chants your name as he comes.
His body continues to cover yours as you wait for your racing pulse to slow.  He presses kisses to your neck, cheeks, lips, and eyelids, and finally your forehead before he gently lifts himself off to lay next to you. “C’mere,” he pulls you to him, and when you rest your head on his chest you can hear how fast his heart is still beating.
Thoroughly sated and soothed by the feel of his fingertips on your skin, it’s tempting to give in and fall asleep.  But not yet. Not if you want to sleep through the night.
Reluctantly, you rise. Maybe, if you’re really fast, maybe he’ll still be here when you get back.  It’s probably not the sane thing to do, but you really, really want him to stay the night.
“Where you going?”  Is that trepidation you hear in his voice?
You smile as you take in the sight of him lying in the bed, disheveled and clearly satisfied. “I need to shower.  And wash my face – I need to get my makeup off.  My eyes are getting itchy.”
“Can I join you?”  He laughs at your raised eyebrow, “No, Princess, not like that.  I’m gonna need some time to recover.”
“That’s good to know,” you smirk, “I was starting to wonder if you were a god wearing a mortal’s skin.”
Bucky blushes.  It’s adorable.  “Nah, no god here.  Just a man that’s never wanted a woman so bad before.  Still do,” he shrugs, “Just too worn out at the moment to do anything about it. You’re somethin’ special, I hope you know that.”
It’s your turn to feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you hold out your hand to help him up.  
The shower is tender and sweet, full of soft kisses and softer touches.  This man just keeps surprising you.
He’s toweling off his hair when his eyes meet yours in the vanity mirror.  “Is it okay if I stay?”
A slow smile spreads across your face – you couldn’t stop it if you tried.  “I’d like that.”  You slip into fresh panties and a tank top, turning to face him fully to admit, “I’d like that a lot.”  Bucky beams at you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips and heads to the bed. You finish up a few minutes later and crawl in, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.  There’s nothing to hide behind – no makeup, no cocktail dress, no drink.  It’s just you, and this is a state that very few people see you in; no one you’ve ever dated has seen you this vulnerable until months have gone by.  Some didn’t see you this way at all.  “Don’t look too close.  I’m very unglamorous and monochrome without makeup.”
Bucky’s blue eyes stare in yours.  “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”  His fingers trace your freshly moisturized skin.  “I think you’re beautiful.”
Outside, the thunderstorm has exhausted itself.  He pulls you close and breathes you in, and you both fall asleep to the sound of gentle rain.
***
When the sun peeks through the gap in the curtains at 6 am, you’re not even mad that you’re awake.  The sight of Bucky lying peacefully next to you is something you’re thoroughly enjoying.
“You’re staring.”  His voice, deep and gravelly, rumbles lightly into the silence as he opens his eyes.  “It’s because I’m decent and gorgeous with a personality, right?”
“What?”
Bucky smirks as he stretches and sits up.  “I should probably come clean.  The bartender from last night?  My parents took him and his sister in after their parents were killed in an accident. Clint and Carrie were lucky to survive – he lost his hearing and six months of memories and she was in the ICU for 3 weeks.  He and I have practically been brothers since grade school.”
It takes a minute, but you finally put the pieces together.  Oh.  Well, shit.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop; I was just really surprised to see you sign so I didn’t look away fast enough. I’m sorry.”
You sit up and slap him lightly on the shoulder.  “So, you knew what I asked him?
His smile broadens as he gives you puppy dog eyes.  Yes. Please don’t be mad.
You try not to smile back as you think about it but lose the battle and shrug.  “I’m not mad.  Maybe a little embarrassed, but we’ve known each other for what, 12 hours?  It’s not like you can tell me everything about you in that short amount of time.”  You give him some serious side eye, “Although you could have mentioned that when I told you what I do for a living.”
He studies your eyes like he’s trying to see into your soul.  “I told you a lot, though.”
“You did.  We both did.”  It surprises you, more than a little, that you aren’t horrified at how open and honest you’ve been with him.
Bucky reaches his hand up to cup your cheek and he pulls you in for a kiss.  “Good morning, beautiful.”  It seems like he doesn’t want to part, because he rests his forehead against yours.
Somehow your hand finds his neck, and you gently rub your thumb along his jawline.  “Good morning, Bucky.”
His stomach grumbles. Loudly.  “Wanna grab some breakfast, Princess?”
It makes you a stupid amount of happy that he’s not ready to leave you just yet.  “Yeah.  I just need a little bit to get ready.”
A half hour later, Bucky opens the passenger side door of his pickup.  “Your chariot, Princess.”
“Thank you,” you murmur, taking his offered hand and climbing in.  It’s an older truck, one with a bench seat, and it smells of hay, Bucky’s cologne, and sweat.  It’s not what you’d expected, but it suits him.
In this tiny little town nothing is open at this hour on a Sunday morning, so Bucky pulls his pickup onto the interstate to head to a fast food restaurant a few miles away.  You take the time to look around – the area is really pretty and reminds you of the drive to your grandparents’ house, all farmland and pastures.  Of course, you can’t help but stare at the horses whenever you pass them.  “Whoa.  They must breed Appaloosas.”
Bucky takes a quick glance out your window.  “Yeah, that’s the Carter farm.  They raise Appaloosas and alpacas.”  He’s quiet for a moment.  “You like horses?  Not everyone can randomly pick out that breed.”
“I love horses,” you murmur, smiling broadly when you spot a few foals among the herd.  You’re too busy looking at them to notice how he looks at you.
***
Breakfast is simple, just something picked up at a drive thru window, but that’s perfectly fine with you. Bucky doesn’t pull back onto the interstate though, he instead starts driving the winding country roads.  You don’t mind in the least; you simply sip your coffee, content to be exactly where you are.  Considering the hour, you aren’t even grumpy.  Stealing glance at the reason why, you hide your smile and take another sip.
Bucky’s fingers drum almost nervously against the wheel, then he seems to make a decision as he brakes sharply.  “Sorry, Princess,” he smiles sheepishly, “You up for a picnic?  I know a spot.”
His smile is infectious. “Yeah.”
He takes the left he stopped so quickly for, and then another left onto a dirt road, and a mile later he turns onto what looks like a seldom used service trail leading up to a fenced in pasture.  “Just a sec,” he pulls the truck to a stop, then gets out to open a gate.  Bucky quickly climbs back in, drives the truck through about 20 feet before turning in a tight circle to face the road, and closes the gate behind him before stepping up to your door.  “I got some blankets, do you want to sit in the truck bed with me?”
“Of course.”
He gets the blankets and spreads them out while you grab the food and coffees, handing them to him before you climb in after him.
“I would’ve helped you in, Princess.”
“Bucky.  I’m not five feet tall.  I can get into the back of a truck.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m fully aware of that.  But unlike the other shmucks you seem to have come across in your life, I ain’t gonna make you do something by yourself just because you can.  You deserve consideration and chivalry, too.”
What do you even say to that?  He’s the exact opposite of pretty much everything you’ve ever known.  It’s nice.
He sits down against a box that is attached to the back of the cab.  “C’mere.  You look cold.”  
It was hot when you’d packed your overnight bag so you’ve only got a tee shirt and shorts on, and luckily a hoodie that just happened to be in the backseat of your car.  “I am, a little,” you admit as you curl into his side, allowing him to cover your legs with another blanket that he’s pulled out.
He eats one handed, keeping an arm around you to keep you close and warm.
Everything smells clean and fresh now that the storm went through, and the morning air is chilly but fresh with the light breeze.  The radio plays softly, drifting through the open windows as you and Bucky eat and watch the fluffy white clouds drift by.  It’s the best picnic you’ve ever had, hands down.
“So where are we? It’s beautiful here.”
“My parents’ farm.”
You turn to stare at him. “This is where you grew up?”
“Yep.”
“Lucky.”
“I am.  Hey, I wanna introduce you to someone.”  He stands suddenly, not waiting for a reply.  You’re in the middle of a pasture, who the hell is there for you to meet?  Bucky brings his fingers to his lips and lets out the sort of piercing whistle that you’ve never managed to master.
And then…and then…
“Are you fucking serious.” Eyes wide, you bring yourself to a kneeling position as a steel grey Percheron comes galloping full speed towards the truck.  “Bucky!”
He turns toward you, face almost split in two by his grin.  The horse slows down, circling the truck and whickering before coming to a full stop right at the tailgate.  
“I’d like you to meet Sergeant.”  
“Oh my God, Bucky, he’s stunning,” you breathe, unable to help yourself as you slowly move forward to sit at the edge of the open tailgate.   Intelligent eyes take you in before a velvet muzzle finds your hand.  “Sorry buddy, I don’t have any treats for you.  But I do have ear scratches,” you murmur, firmly stroking the planes of his face before scratching behind his ears.  You giggle when he sighs, and again when he mouths gently at your hair.  
Bucky beams with pride as he pulls an apple out of the box you’d been leaning against, feeding it to Sergeant before sitting on the tailgate next to you.  “I’ve had him for 20 years.  I got him when he was just a colt.  Trained him myself.  He’s one of the reasons why I choose to work remotely – I just can’t imagine not getting to see him.”
“I don’t blame you at all, I don’t think I could’ve left this sweetheart either.”  Sergeant blows gently in your face, then nuzzles you hard enough to push you backwards.  “Oh my goodness, you are just a big baby, aren’t you, Sarge?  Oh, you like that?  That spot right there?”  You laugh lightly as the giant horse stretches his neck toward you, seeming to thoroughly enjoy how you scratch just beneath where his mane grows.
“He likes you.”  Sergeant looks over when Bucky speaks, but then turns back to you.
“Well, I like him.” Feeling eyes on you, you turn to Bucky. “What, are you jealous?” you tease.
“Yes.”  Bucky cradles your face in both his hands and begins kissing you.  Before you know it, you’re lying in the truck bed with him, making out like a couple of teenagers out past curfew.  Time slows even as it moves, and you’d swear the minutes stretched into a blissful forever as you lay in his embrace.  But the real world likes to force its way in, and the distant sound of a car’s horn brings you both back to your senses.
Sergeant is about 50 feet away, grazing peacefully as Bucky pulls out his phone to check the time.  “We, uh, we should get going.  I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands to myself, and my folks will be drivin’ by on their way to church in about 15 minutes.”
“Don’t feel like scarring them forever with the view of your naked ass?”  You sit up and start pulling up the blankets to fold them.
“Honestly?”  He shakes his head, “They’d probably cheer and then invite you over for dinner.”
Pausing your movements, you let that one sink in.  “…Oh. Well that would be just as awkward as the alternative.”
He shrugs.  “They’ve been dropping some not so subtle hints that they think I should settle down.  They’d be thrilled just to know I spent the night with you.”
You tilt your head a bit as you watch him.  “Don’t you date?”
“Nah, not really.”
“Really?  Why not?”
He shrugs again as you hand him the blankets, then he turns his back to you as he puts them in the box. “I dunno.  I guess I just hadn’t found anyone I wanted to actually spend time with.”  
“Huh.”
“What?”  There’s a challenge in his eyes when he turns back around.  “That so weird?”
“No, I get it.  You definitely shouldn’t settle.  I guess…” he’s staring at you now, waiting for you to finish, “I guess I’m just a little surprised that someone hasn’t snatched you up yet.  Where I come from, you’re quite a catch.”
“You think so?  How’s that?”
Is he baiting you? Teasing you?  Genuinely curious?  It’s impossible to tell.  “I know so. You’re smart, kind, funny, and a stupid amount of gorgeous,” you pause to level a look at him, “but I suppose you already knew I thought the last part.”
Bucky barks out a laugh but at least has the good grace to look sheepish.
“You have an absolutely beautiful horse, which wins points with pretty much every person I know. Your parents took in a couple of kids when they needed a family, and you learned a new language so you could keep communicating with your friend.  You have every opportunity to move to another city, but you stay here to be close to those you care about.  And,” it’s dumb, really, how you’re suddenly too shy to meet his eyes, “You’re really good in bed.  Like, really really good.  You’re the whole damn package.”  When you finally look up, he’s staring at you again.  “There’s a perfectly real possibility that you’re a total asshole and that you’ve been acting this whole time – I’ve only known you for a day – but I haven’t seen any cracks.  I get the definite impression that I met the real Bucky, and he is one hell of a catch.”  
“Huh.”  He hops down and turns, holding out his hand to help you down.  Do you need to take it?  No, but you love that he offers anyway.  He doesn’t let go after he helps you out, instead choosing to hold your hand as he walks you to the passenger side.  Bucky only lets go because he has to, and once the gate is secured behind the truck, he takes your hand and holds it for the entire drive back to the motel.
***
Ever the gentleman, Bucky walks you back to your motel door.  
“Do you have to go?” The words are out before you can think too long on them.
He’s shaking his head before your entire sentence is out, “No.  Not if you don’t want me to.”
You don’t even care if you sound needy or clingy.  “Please stay.”
Just like you learned last night, Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.
At least the drapes are closed this time.
***
A sharp rap at the door and an equally sharp call of your name interrupts your post-lovemaking bliss.  It’s your aunt.
“I don’t wanna,” you whine.
Bucky bristles, sensing your distress.  “That her?”
You nod before pulling a pillow over your head.  “I’m just going to pretend I’m still asleep.  Maybe she’ll go away.”
“Don’t worry Princess, I got you.”
You feel the bed shift and move the pillow.  “Bucky!”
He turns back to you, eyebrows raised, as another insistent knock echoes through the room.
“You’re naked!”  It comes out as a stage whisper, making you both snicker.
He flashes a shit eating grin.  “So?”
Is he really gonna…
With a dramatic huff, he stops to find his boxer briefs and quickly tugs them on.  Kind of.  They’re sitting awfully low.
First there’s the sound of the door swinging open, then Bucky’s voice, bored and borderline intimidating.  “Yeah?”
The following silence is deafening and you almost wish the room was set up so you could see your aunt’s face, but all you can see is the back half of Bucky’s sensational body leaning in the doorframe.
“Uh, hi?  I’m looking for my niece?  I thought this was her room?”
“You mean the tall, gorgeous drink of water?  About my height?  Killer smile? Was wearing, uh, let’s see, what was she wearing?  It’s been awhile and she ain’t wearin’ much of anything now.”
The blood rushes to your face, but you can’t even imagine how embarrassed Lydia is right now.  The thought is nothing short of glorious.    
“Uh,” he snaps his fingers a few times, feigning concentration, “Oh!  A black dress with the sexiest heels imaginable?  Sound about right?”
“Well, yes, but –“
“Yeah, she’s here.” His tone is still bored, but you think you can pick up on an edge of amusement.  Your aunt must be squirming by now, and it’s all you can do to not start cackling.
“I thought…well…the gift opening is in an hour.  I thought she was going to meet us for breakfast before –“
“She won’t be goin’ to the gift opening.  Or breakfast, but don’t you worry, ma’am.  I made sure she ate something.”
The not so subtle innuendo almost makes you choke on your own spit.
“You can’t – are you holding my niece hostage or something?”
He laughs darkly but yells out, “Princess, am I holding you hostage?”
Your own laugher, unable to be contained any longer, bursts out.  “Nope!” you call out, absolutely feeling as gleeful as you sound.
Lydia is practically apoplectic by now.  “But what about the gift opening?”
“She doesn’t. Want.  To go,” he growls, stooping down.  “And here, she doesn’t want your fucking ugly shoes, either.  Stop projecting your insecurities onto her – she’s perfect the way she is.”  Bucky closes the door – perhaps a little harder than strictly necessary – and you hear the sound of the lock sliding into place before he saunters back to the bed.
“Thank you for doing that, Buck.  I – holy shit, I cannot believe you answered the door like that.”  Your eyes are glued to how low his boxers are sitting – he’s showing more than just his happy trail.
“What?  Everything’s technically covered.”
“Bucky.”
“Yes, Princess?”
“I – I’m not even sure how you managed it, but you basically turned your boxers into the dick version of a pasty.”
He grins, “Like I said. Everything’s technically covered.”  Bucky moves closer, crawling into the bed until he hovers above you. “But not for long,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck.  “Now, the way I figure it, we got another two hours till checkout.”
“Mmmmm…” you’d rather not think of the time.  It’s necessary if you don’t want someone from housekeeping to accidentally walk in, but you don’t want this to end.
He kisses you deeply before pulling back, looking just a little hesitant.  “And then, if you want, we could continue this back at my place? If you’re not in a hurry to get home?”
He’s kept his lips to himself for a few seconds, so your head manages to clear enough to process what he just said.  “What? Really?”
“Yeah.  I mean, I get it if you have to get back.  But,” he shrugs awkwardly, his current vulnerability at stark odds with his usual confidence, “I like you.  I’d like to spend the day with you if you’re free.” He kisses your neck again and nibbles your ear.  “We can do more of this.  I like this, too.  A lot.” He pulls back to look you in the eye. “But we could also do some talkin’. Maybe you’d let me take you out to a nice dinner before you head home?”
A smile, broad and genuine, stretches across your face.  “I’d like that.  I’d really like that.”  Even if you never see Bucky again after today, you’re hungry for whatever time you can get with him.   He’s addictive and you’ve never in your life felt more satisfied and safe than you do right now.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His borderline cocky confidence returns as his hands resume roaming the landscape of your body. “Good,” he mouths against your throat, and resumes his worship of you.  “It’s gonna be a good day, Princess.  A good fuckin’ day.”
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winchester-writes · 5 years ago
Text
The World You Ruined (Part 1)
Sam Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 861
Warnings: angst :) language, mentions of cheating
A/N: Alright here we go again!! Dang y’all I am on a role with writing!! hahaha Okay so these are requested from mah bestfran @ilikethedisease67 Again I know this is kinda short BUT it is going to be a mini series...not really sure how many parts yet but yeah...I hope y’all enjoy it!! Especially you Steph ;)
Also major thanks to @jerkbitchidjitassbutt for betaing and for also being amazing <3
Tagging just a few who might like (idk probs not lol): @abaddonwithyall, @pada-ackles, @oriona75, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​, @atc74​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @kittenofdoomage​, @manawhaat​, @mrswhozeewhatsis​
Summary: *Bolded in story* “If lies keep spewing from those lips them I’m walking out that door.”
“Sam...wh-what is this?!”You screeched out after opening the motel room door.
There before you lay your boyfriend, well ex now, with some brunette lying on top of him with his hands gripping her hair. The girl fell to the side with a shriek as he got her off and scurried to his feet, falling on his face as he tried to put his boxers back on, “Shit...Y/N wait! I-I-I have an explanation!”
Scoffing and rolling your eyes, you walked into the room to grab your duffle. Only turning around with fury in your eyes when you heard the door open and slam shut again, letting you know the bitch left.
“Oh please, by all means!” You screamed out while gathering your belongings, “Please Sam, you self-righteous liar, PLEASE tell me your explanation!”
“I-I…” Sam started looking around and fidgeting as he grabbed his t-shirt, not really expecting the yelling that was coming from you. “She meant absolutely nothing to me babe! It was a mistake and I fucked up, please don’t leave me though, I need you!”
“Was that Ruby?” Crossing your arms, you arched an eyebrow as you waited for an answer.
Sam sucked in a quick breath but looked confused at the name, “W-what? W-Who?”
You had caught him talking to someone on the phone named Ruby and when you mentioned the name to Dean earlier, he gladly clarified who she was. A Demon. Sam was running around behind your back with a demon and it just so happens you walk in on them fucking each other the very same day!
“Was that bitch in here, the one that was just on that bed fucking my boyfriend, in case you forgot. Was that... Ruby?” You furiously asked, with your face remaining somewhat neutral.
Watching his face contort as he tried to find an answer was amusing in a way, because he had no explanation for once. The boy who was so good at covering his ass, had no way of doing that now.
“H-How do you-”
Gripping the ends of your hair, you were about ready to kill him. “Oh my God Sam! Was that Ru-”
“YES! Okay?! Yes, it was Ruby!! Fuck, what more do you want?!” Sam screamed out to the heavens with his arms held out wide, “Nothing has ever happened between us before though! I swear to you!”
“Mmmm, so what about the blood drinking?” The words left your lips with ease.
Sam’s mouth fell open, he obviously expected you not to know about that, “Th-The what? I-I’m not drinking any blood babe! What are you talking about?! This is like the second time I’ve met up with her!
“If lies keep spewing from those lips then I’m walking out that door. Just tell me the fucking truth Sam! I’ve been your girlfriend for the past 3 years now, you talk to me about literally everything...why hide this? I could've helped you.” Your voice got gradually smaller as you spoke, the realization that you two were actually over was finally hitting you.
Sam gulped, looking towards the ground and the moment you saw the tears well up in the corners of his eyes, you knew that everything that you were told was in fact true. He was drinking the demon blood and fucking Ruby behind your back. Getting stronger and playing into her plan.
“She’s gonna fuck you over, you know. Have fun with your idiotic plan.”
And with that, you grabbed your duffle and made sure to slam the door in his face.
That night you stole a car and made sure to get as far as possible away from the Winchesters.
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It was about 2 years later and the boys ended up in some small town for what appeared to be a simple shifter case. They were currently driving to the Williamson Institute for the Mentally Insane where the deaths have been happening. As they passed by a house with the family all outside enjoying the nice weather. The dad washing the car while mom sat in a lawn chair watching the kids play in the sprinklers. Sam cleared his throat and readjusted himself in his seat. Ever since that night, Sam has tried to find you using every possible source that he could but no results ever came up. He misses everything about you terribly but it seems you didn’t want to be found so he stopped last year, he gave up after Dean told him it was a losing battle. And he didn’t blame you for not wanting to be found, he did you wrong and was going to have to live with the consequences.
Luckily their destination wasn’t too far up the road and the boys were soon parking. After flashing their FBI badges to the woman at the front desk, Dean started doing his charming tactic as Sam started to survey the area and get the layout of the place. As he went to focus on the woman in front of him speaking, he glanced near a window in the corner to his left and just about came out of his skin.
“Y/N…?!”
Part 2
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lordjenjen-does-discourse · 5 years ago
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(Diff anon) Why do people think they can hide behind their age to avoid criticism? (Whether it's Sou/th Park or P/okemon, there will always be NSFW of some kind by fans. Unless you're on a 18+ site; where stuff is generally unfiltered, most people usually put a blockade or warning so minors can't access easily. Heck, the tagging is even for adults who don't like certain NSFW stuff, like extreme violence or gore.) Plus, the SP fandom isn't limited to Tumblr, it just currently houses the most art.
I don't know when I got this lol. And I honestly have no fucking clue. It's like they think just because they are a minor there is no repercussion for what they do.
It's like I lived though fanfiction.net. It was horrible! I am so glad that tagging exists so I can be like "Angst? Not today Satan! Underage? No thanks. ABO? Mmmm new tab for you! Pure fluff? Yeah baby!" I don't like some things, and I can see if it's something I'm into. There are fics out there that people will swear up and down are the greatest fics in the fandom, but I know weather or not it's for my before I even open it. I use to get chapters into something before I realized this wasn't what was advertised and would leave. It's a huge reason I dropped out of fandom for a few years. There are guides out there showing you how to exclude tags when searching on AO3! It's wonderful! These people just don't know how good they got it.
And this isn't even like an "All minors" sort of thing. It's legit a "these five assholes are ruining the party for everyone." I don't condone any minor who watches South Park or participates in fandom. Hell, I was 15 when I was introduced to Fanfiction.net. That was the website for fanfiction at the time. You gambled on what stories you were going to get and what the content was going to be like. It was legit like walking into a book store except at least book stores have better summaries. I seriously have nothing wrong with minors that want to gush about the fluff fics they find or the cute art. I have nothing against minors that don't want to see anything pornographic. I don't have anything against minors who do want to explore sex and sexuality through the written word.
I have a problem with these little shits who think they are the authority of all things and feel the need to police people over the dumbest shit then make up shit that sounds logical and factual but is actually lies that do nothing but hurt real victims by reducing the meaning of a word. Then when others won't bend to their will, turn into hateful fucking cunts and go on the attack.
You know for a group of people who are supposed to be like "Don't bully. Sex positivity. You don't have to know who you are right out the gates." Sure do spend a lot of time and effort going against everything they stand for. Like why? Why are you going to tell a 16 year old you were glad they were raped and you hope they kill themselves over a fucking cartoon you watch? Why would you spend the time and effort trying to doxx someone because they write about fictional characters who are aged up into adult hood and then thrown into adult situations? If you don't like what's out there, make your own or fuck off.
Any of you fucks reading this, listen up.
Just because you're young, doesn't mean you have the right to be an absolute fucking cunt to people. You should be ashamed of the type of person you are. You are literally no better than Trump. You're equally as bad as any Nazi or white supremacists. You're a bully and an asshole and will end up living a miserable life because how you act on the internet reflects what kind of person you are in real life. And being this way will isolate you from anyone worth a damn. You're the incel of fandom, and South Park has incels. You're one of them now. Good luck with that.
Also what the fuck is going on in the Pokemon fandom? I'm not huge on Pokemon (Magikarp best Pokemon) so I never know but are they really throwing a fit about fake humanoid animals being drawn for furry porn? Like is this an argument they are chosing to have in the year 2019? Is this an actual fucking thing? Like do they not know porn artists do a better job of hiding their work from minors than actual cartoon porn sites?
If your problem is really that minors might be able to find their work, then you're attacking the wrong people. Try the porn sites that dump thousands of dollars into ads that have a chance to run on gaming websites. Go after Google to better regulate their adds on sites. Go after parents that don't have up ad blocks and parental controls on young kids. And then fucking trust teens to know how to navigate shit. If you're a teen and you can't seem to avoid content that makes you uncomfortable, please seek your legal guardian for help. Because your bitching about how it's "the adults responsibility" is how you end up with shit like GRSM content being demonized on YouTube, thus helping to bury the content from the public. It's how you end up with Tumblr "accidentally" flagging the same content as NSFW and hiding it from searches.
Seriously. Pull your head outcha asses and see the bigger picture. Be glad you live in a place where you can chose not to see shit rather than be forced to use government regulated everything. Wanna tell the president he's the embodiment of a traffic cone that's been run over by a semi? Then maybe stop calling for censorship under the false disguise of "for the children." It's already dystopian enough.
Sorry cold meds kicked i am all over the place with thoughts and words.
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franklyshipping · 6 years ago
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Marvin The Mischievous ~ A Septic Ego Series ~ Part 9 ~ The Finale
Whew.....here it is....the bonus finale to what has been a wonderful series to brainstorm, plan, write, post, and receive feedback on. Thank you all so much for reading and I hope this series has been as fun for you as it has been for me. LET'S GO!
TAGGING: @marvin-lee-magician and @anti-switch-glitch
Marvin the Magnificent smiled to himself.....not an evil, malignant, mischievous smile, just a really damn happy one. It had been a few days since The Great Tickle Revenge of 2018 had occurred, and honestly Marvin had never felt better within himself. It was strange. Everyone seemed to be spending so much more time together, people weren't split into pairs of people they were comfy with....everyone was close with EVERYONE. It was so lovely. Even Anti and Shawn, the recluses, had found themselves feeling safe and at ease when in everybody's company, and it meant that everyone was just so much happier. Marvin played with his cape as he stared into the distance, thinking of all the newest happy family moments they'd shared, feeling profound....until he was interrupted. I wonder if you can guess the one person guaranteed to cause a cheeky ruckus in this household?
'Sup kitty cat, been lookin' for ya!'
Marvin shut his eyes and let out an audible groan, which resulted in a delighted giggle from Anti as he plopped on the couch next to the magician.
'Why, so you can gloat again about my magnificent downfall?'
Marvin mumbled as he opened his eyes and looked to Anti, who dramatically gasped in the most affronted manner that you ever did see. He slung an arm around Marvin's shoulders, making the magician squirm and growl as he reverted back to a state of smirkiness in his reply.
'I meeean, ya can't really chastise people who tease ya since ya brought it o-'
'Brought it on myself YES I know!'
Anti giggled and flicked Marvin's nose playfully, making Marvin twitch and glare.
'Exactly! So, I can tease ALL I want!'
Marvin rubbed his nose and shoved Anti off him. Obviously he wasn't at all angry or annoyed with him, it was just their way of interacting. Playful fighting, banter, annoying one another, creating feuds over the dumbest things just because it was so much fun for both of them. Everyone's friendship with another person is different to how that person's other friends may interact with them, like Marvin had banter with Anti, Jamie meanwhile was constantly molly-coddled and babied and teased by the glitch; since Anti dubbed him 'a fucking human marshmallow'. Anti was sneering at Marvin, amused by his embarrassed blush and child-like stance of bad posture and folded arms on the couch.
'....friggin crimeny asshole poo-glitch....'
Anti raised an eyebrow.....before bursting into wild, happy cackles, which only made Marvin blush more. It was rare to hear Anti's real laughter when it was unforced, and to be fair Marvin still thought it was lovely....but he was oh so salty at how it was at HIS expense. Through his laughter and manic grin, Anti leant towards him and taunted.
'Whahat wahas that Mr ''P-Please I Can't Take Much M-More!''?'
Marvin hid his face in his hands, letting out a huge whine of despair as Anti managed to reign himself back to giggles, though his eyes had been glistening and threatening tears of mirth. He just found all of this ceaselessly hilarious.
'SHUT UP! YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO HELP THEM, I NEVER GOT YOU!!'
Marvin exclaimed as Anti smirked, and it was true, Anti could see how it was true. But he remembered so distinctly when he and the rest of them had rescued Jackie....he'd wanted nothing more than to tease the magician, to watch him be tickled, to help make that happen. To be part of a scheme like that had just been too enticing to pass up.
'Oh but I wouldn't have missed it for the world, the chance to watch you squirm and shriek in ticklish madness was just so much fun! Yeah ya never got me, and ya never will, but any chance te see ya knocked down a few pegs is fuckin' awesome!'
Marvin's face was a burning crimson now, it never ceased to fluster him to see how enthusiastic people were when it came to tickling him. However....there was a little something that gave Marvin a lifeline from his embarrassment. Something Anti had said. Something that, in Marvin's mind, very much sounded like a smug challenge. Marvin started to smile; how bold Anti was to assume he was immune.
'Never.....is that right?'
Anti tensed....what was with this new tone? The man was instantly on guard as he watched Marvin's curled up form, hoping to anything and everything that he hadn't accidently given Marvin confidence. His hopes were no use though. Anti gulped when Marvin's face emerged, and the magician was grinning ear to ear. There was silence, stillness....then a pounce.
'NODON'TYOUDARE MARVIN YOU LITTLE SHIT!'
Anti tried to scramble off the couch, but Marvin was on top of him in an instant and reaching for his wrists with a maniacal grin. They were practically wresting, Marvin smirking and focused whilst Anti growled with threatening intent. Anti was cursing himself, goddammit WHY did he have to keep teasing? He COULDN'T let Marvin get away with this, but Marvin as we know....is a determined bugger.
'One way, or another....I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha!'
Anti's cheeks warmed up and he let a smile slip out at Marvin's tease, noticing how he used some lyrics of a song Anti liked. Hearing the words in this context caused the first waves of embarrassment to quiver in Anti's tummy, and spurred him to glare and snarl.
'I SWEAR I will tickle torture you for this! Stop while I'm giving you the chance!'
Marvin knew Anti wouldn't go down without a fight, it was so admirable. Even though the magician did feel a quiver of fear at the threat....the threat itself was proof that Marvin had the upper hand. Marvin knew Anti well enough to know that when he started making threats, that's when he was the most nervous. Marvin snatched Anti's wrists and shoved them under his knees to pin them, and cracked his knuckles in response to Anti's growl.
'Well maybe YOU should have taken a deep breath while I gave you the chance!'
Anti was struggling and tugging with all his might, but nothing stopped that mighty shriek leaving him when Marvin's claw-shaped hands dug into his vulnerable tummy. He was encased in mad cackles instantly.
'AAAHH! NAHAHA GEHET OHOHOFF MEHEHEEE!'
Marvin snickered as Anti writhed beneath him, the magician was always amused how Anti's reactions to tickling were THE most wild and sporadic out of everyone; not that it's surprising, given his wild character. As Marvin let his ''claws'' drag over Anti's stomach, and the thin��t-shirt Anti wore offered no protection, he cooed teasingly.
'No can dooooo! Coochie coochie coooo!'
Anti's face lit up at the babyish teasing, and his arched his back whist wailing in ticklish agony; this was already evil and this was the first goddamn ticklish spot. Anti knew he was doomed.
'YOHOHOU BAHAHSTAHARD!! FAHAACK WHYTHEDAHAMNCLAWING?!'
Feeling Marvin's fingers just drag and scratch at the same time just made Anti flinch and quiver, it was quite the effective technique. Marvin kept it up as he crooned.
'Why it's my favourite tickly technique! After all, you're the one who called me a kitty cat! I'd have thought you'd be happy to feel my claws!'
Anti was shaking his head maniacally as the clawing reached his waist, making him buck and squeal as he babbled. He never knew something could tickle so much!
'NONONOHOHOHO IHIHAMNOTHAPPY NAHAHAT HAHAHAPPY!!'
Marvin pouted softly, but it was very exaggerated, as he removed his claws and put his fists on his hips.
'Awwww, well that won't do will it? I'll just have to try harder!'
Anti was making the most of his break, taking breath after breath as he tried to force his smile away, but for some reason his mouth just wasn't co-operating. He was grinning and shivering as he looked up at Marvin, still giggling from the atmosphere....almost like he WAS happy....ha! What a preposterous accusation, ahem moving on. Anti's voice had dimmed to a gentle, jittery form as he replied.
'N-Nohoho M-Maharvin, th-that w-wahas ahalready e-evil!'
Marvin cocked his head to the side as he giggled, eyes glinting.
'Oho Anti.....I think I need to help you redefine what TRUE evil is.'
Anti's blush was dark and prominent from embarrassment as he watched Marvin with eagle eyes, trying to anticipate something, anything. Marvin started lowering his head towards Anti's abdomen, making Anti squirm as his muscles tensed and twitched nervously. Then Anti shrieked. Marvin had definitely thrown build-ups out of the window today.
'NONONONO DOHOHON'T DOHOHO THAHAHAHAT!!'
Marvin giggled once more as he swiped his tongue back and forth along Anti's waistline, knowing how much this technique in this place drove him absolutely crazy. As he tormented Anti's soft, delicate skin, he growled playfully like a feasting beast.
'Mmmm, I never knew glitches could taste so good....'
Dammit dammit dammit, the animal trope AS WELL AS the lickling? Anti was in hell. Anti whimpered through his high pitched laughter as he squeezed his eyes shut to try and block out the wet, warm, tickly sensation; but if anything, it only became more amplified. It was like he was being sloppily painted, but the paint was warm and the brush was slick and immeasurably soft. Anti cried out.
'P-PLEHEHEASE YOHOU KNOHOW IHI CAN'T STAHAHAND THIHIHIS!!'
Anti squealed when Marvin wiggled the tip of his tongue over the skin playfully, then gazed at him amusedly as he purred.
'But you don't have to stand it, you're lying down!'
Anti let out a groan of despair at the pun, to think he thought things couldn't have gotten worse. Now Marvin had brought his detrimentally terrible humour into play. Marvin snickered at his own joke as he flicked his tongue under Anti's navel, making him squeal and buck adorably.
'YOHOHOU FUHUCKER!! YOHOHOU'LL REHEGREHET THIHIHIS!'
Marvin sighed.....more threats. Will he ever learn. He stopped and crawled on top of Anti, making the glitch gasp as Marvin glared at him; it was partly terrifying in all honesty. The magician looked fierce and fiery as he snarled down at Anti.
'And I'll make sure YOU regret it if you keep up those threats. I can make you submit to me.'
Anti's heart was pounding.....oh why oh why had he let his brain convince him that being cheeky to Marvin was a good idea? Anti KNEW how ruthless he could be. He KNEW that he wasn't to be underestimated or belittled. And yet, his subconscious convinced him to goad the magician anyway....and it was his subconscious that controlled his stammers now.
'I-I'll....s-still g-get you! Y-You can't TRULY defeat me!'
Except, this just proved that Marvin already HAD defeated him. Marvin smirked, now all he had to do was make Anti admit that he'd been bested.
'Still got that defiance....heh, I shouldn't really be surprised. If anything....this is just going to be so much more fun.'
Anti quivered as his gaze flicked over Marvin's excited expression, and he was already smiling as Marvin leant down and nestled his face into the crook of his neck. Anti was so tense. His mind was bubbling with questions. What was he going to do? Anti tried to stay quiet as he felt Marvin's warm breath move over his neck....dammit the suspense was actually killing him. This was, of course, something that Marvin was dragging out on purpose. The magician purred.
'Gotcha.'
Anti gasped and squeaked. No, he did not fall into hysteria, he simply was overcome by a stream of squeaky giggles as Marvin's sharp teeth started nipping and nibbling at his very sensitive, pale skin.
'F-Fuhuhuck.....M-Maharvihin......y-yohohou cahan't....'
Marvin snickered, which sent more chills through Anti's system, whilst dragging his teeth over his victim's vulnerable skin; he'd still managed to keep Anti's arms trapped beneath his legs too, he was pretty good at this tickle torture malarkey.
'But I already am....you might as well admit it Anti. You've lost.'
Anti flushed, filled with embarrassment since he knew deep down it was true, but before he could respond.....Marvin's fingertips came into play.
'AH! Th-thahat's n-nahat f-f-fahahair! P-Plehehease!'
Marvin's fingertips had joined the party and were drawing little shapes all over Anti's bared, sensitive sides; galaxies and nebulas and patterns and shapes, all of them sending jolts through Anti's nerves....making him crumble more and more every second. Marvin whispered in a wispy voice, that almost sounded tickly all by itself.
'Come now Anti, you know what I want to hear. It's just....a little confession.'
Anti weakly shook his head, even though he barely had an ounce of willpower left he was scrunching up his face as a way to distract himself from the evil feelings.
'I-Ihihi cahahan't Ihi c-cahahan't!'
Marvin was just....so happy. Hearing Anti become undone was sublime. To think earlier he was his vibrant bratty self was almost unbelievable, but it just goes to show how being ticklish can reveal every hidden part of you. In this instance, Anti's prickly exterior was a shield for his meek interior; he was a soft little turtle on the inside basically. Marvin was gonna tease that little turtle to death.
'Sure you can....otherwise, heh well, I don't have anything to do today, and this is quite a comfy position....'
Anti gulped as he squirmed and whined, but any energy for potential escape had long been used up, he was hardly even glitching too. His body was only exhibiting the odd crackle and shift by a millimetre, but other than that, Anti was just completely vulnerable. And he knew it.
'Y-Yohohou h-hahave toho h-have mehehercy ohon me!'
Marvin giggled softly, finding a soft spot behind Anti's ear that he latched onto with his teeth, all the while his blunt nails relentlessly teased the dips of his poor sides. He only had to utter two words....two words that made Anti realise, he'd honestly lost.
'Do I?'
It went on....Anti didn't know how long. Time didn't exist it seemed. It was just tickling, tracing, nibbling, tracing, nibbling, tracing, nibbling. Anti's eyes were watering just from his high-pitched giggle fits as he tried and tried to endure. However, with every passing moment, he just seemed to get more and more ticklish, and Marvin wasn't even using magic. It was just plain old tickling. Tickling, just in itself, is torture....classic tickling with deft fingertips....can never go wrong. Marvin was about to find this out, to his utter glee.
'OKAY! Y-Yohohou w-wihin yohou d-d-defeheated mehe pleasehavemehercypleasepleaseplease!'
Anti babbled, he honestly couldn't have handled any more, it was like he was being hypnotised via touch. His breathing was raspy and erratic, his gaze was glazed and focused on the ceiling, and his body was caught in a haze of jolts and shivers....but now....a calm had been reached. Anti sighed in relief when Marvin's fingers retracted and his arms were released from under his legs; Anti bent his arms, he'd almost forgotten he had these two limbs. As Anti regained his senses though....he realised that Marvin hadn't gotten off him. Oh no. Quite the opposite. The magician was cuddling him, and smiling at him.
'I win.'
Anti pursed his lips when Marvin giggled, snuggling into him....like a goddamn cat. Fuckin' affectionate piece of cute. Anti begrudgingly hugged him back, giving his back a little pack as he mumbled embarrassedly.
'Yeah...ya did.....'
He paused, which made Marvin look at him again curiously. What he said next though, meant Marvin was the one blushing.
'I'm proud of ya.'
Marvin couldn't stop smiling, and Anti felt a wave of satisfaction....even after all that, he'd gained an inch of the upper hand. He chuckled, then playfully shoved Marvin off him onto the carpet so his could stand up and brush down his clothes.
'HEY!'
Anti snickered as he looked down at Marvin, who was playfully glaring. However he soon grinned when Anti gave him a hand up, rolling his eyes. Marvin smiled as he watched Anti start to saunter from the room....oh if only he'd since the glitch's smirk as he spoke offhandedly.
'Ugh I was not prepped for sappiness today, to think i only came here to tell ya Jackie wants to go on a date with ya...'
Marvin's eyes bugged out of his sockets, whilst Anti cackled to himself. Marvin blushed, frozen in place. Jackie. Cute Superhero. Date. With him. Actual Jackie....smirky teasy pretty kind selfless Jackie-WHAT?!
'WHAT WAIT ANTI COME BACK?!'
Anti merely kept on sauntering, hands in his pockets and head held high as Marvin's flustered, jittery voice followed him. Ah, the sounds of someone yelling Anti's name in frustration or in vain...things were definitely back to normal.
DOOONNNEEE!!! Wow I can't believe it's done....genuinely though I'd love to know what you guys though of this finale AND the whole series! LUV YOUS XXX
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tisfan · 6 years ago
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Make his Mark
Title: Make his Mark Collaborator: @27dragons & @tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: O4 - Marking Ship: Bucky/Tony Rating: E Major Tags: Sex, Anal Sex, Semi-public Sex, Marking, not your father’s coffee shop AU Summary: When the tabloids report that Tony Stark and Bucky Barnes’ marriage is going to end in divorce any day now, the queue starts forming to ”comfort” Tony. Bucky wants to make sure everyone knows that Tony is his.
Everyone. Word Count: 2,880 Created for @mcukinkbingo
A/N: We would apologize for hijacking the People Magazine meme, but we’re not actually sorry. Also, this story takes place in the Communal Kitchen AU, somewhat after Long Winter, but you don’t need to know anything about it, except that Bucky and Tony are married.
Everything below the readmore, for smut
There was nothing finer than looking up at Tony, straddling Bucky’s thighs, glistening with sweat, each muscle outlined with golden candlelight, as Bucky very slowly pushed up into that heat. They had the penthouse to themselves, all the kids were gone, and half of the Avengers with them. With relative privacy and the assurance of no interruptions, Bucky had taken his husband to bed, with the intentions of staying there for most of the evening.
Tony raised up, then rolled his hips as he sank back down, shuddering with the sensation. He put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders to change the angle and rocked again, humming with the shifting position. “Article in today’s People says you’re not in love with me anymore,” he mentioned.
Bucky choked and spluttered, then groaned as that changed the way they were fitting together. “Tony, I am literally balls deep in your ass right now,” he pointed out. He flexed his hips, fingers gripping Tony’s thighs. He clenched his jaw in an effort not to spill over right away; his dick often seemed to have an urge to make a point, somehow.
“Mm, yeah, I noticed that.” Tony dug his toes into the mattress for balance and pushed back onto Bucky’s cock even harder than before. “But do you still like me?”
Bucky slid an arm around Tony’s back and before he could protest, rolled them over until he was on top, sliding even deeper with each thrust, as if he could permanently become one with his husband. He leaned in, until his mouth was hovering mere millimeters away from Tony’s. Until speaking brushed their lips together. “I am so into you, baby,” Bucky said, “that nothin’ gonna pull me out.” He demonstrated, by way of pushing Tony’s knees back until they were practically touching his ears.
Tony’s breath caught and his hands clenched in the sheets. “Glad to h-hear it,” he groaned. “Oh, Christ, yes, right there, more.”
“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, rocking with him, stroking Tony with each heartbeat, kissing him thoroughly. He was going to come quicker; driving down into Tony’s lithe, beautiful body always drove him wild. “You know I love you.” He balanced on the metal arm, getting a hand between them to tease Tony’s dick. “Don’t you?”
“Course I do,” Tony panted. “‘M just sayin, the press is at us again. And you know-- oh! Oh, yeah, sweetheart, just like that -- you know what it means when that happens.”
Bucky almost snarled; settled for purring in Tony’s ear, instead. “Means some stupid, mislead idiots with delusions of adequacy are gonna come crawlin’ out of the woodwork, hopin’ for a bite of Tony Stark.” He nipped at Tony’s throat, down to worry at Tony’s collarbone, sucking up a red mark. He ran his thumb back and forth over the crown of Tony’s cock, smearing precome around.
“God, it should not be so hot when you get possessive,” Tony swore. “You know I don’t want anyone else, baby.”
“I know,” Bucky said, and he did, he knew that. Tony had never even had to prove himself to Bucky; they’d held each other’s lives and hearts and heads since they practically met. He didn’t have doubts. “Jus’ don’t like ‘em circling around you like blowflies. You’re not someone’s prize.” He sucked in a breath, thrust in, and twisted his wrist at the same time. “You’re mine.”
Tony threw his head back on a cry and came, spilling over Bucky’s fist to splash across his stomach. “Yours,” he gasped. “Always.” He reached up to curl his fingers into Bucky’s hair. “And you’re mine. Moy soldat.”
Bucky arched, that squeeze and heat, so perfect… he gasped for air, everything clenching down, and then-- “Oh, god.” Deep and molten and shivering, Bucky let it go, pleasure zipping from nerve to nerve as he came, crying Tony’s name. He chased after his breath for a bit, heart throbbing painfully in his chest, practically squashing Tony while he recovered his wits.
“Do I like you,” Bucky said, rolling over and spreading out over as much of the bed as he could get, trying to cool down. “What idiocy. Of course I like you. Like you, love you, want you, need you. Everything. All of it. There aren’t even words.”
Tony sighed in satisfaction. “We might have to put on a show for the press again,” he said. “Since it seems to be a slow news week.”
Bucky rolled up onto his elbow. “What a hardship.”
Really, as Tony got older, you’d think the number of people trying to hit on him would decrease. Sure, he was pretty fit for his age, still a billionaire, still a celebrity superhero, and there were always going to be people who found that attractive; Tony had long since resigned himself to the occasional offer from a fan with little to lose. But since the latest round of the gossip rags proclaiming that Tony and Bucky were going to call it quits Any Day Now, it seemed every third person he met was trying to get into his pants.
Bucky hadn’t even left Tony’s side for five minutes at the last event they’d been at before some society darling had pressed up against Tony’s side and offered to help him through those lonely nights.
Honestly, the woman was lucky that Bucky had only flayed her with words on his return; Tony was pretty certain he’d been mentally doing much worse.
Tony didn’t know where the gossip sites got their speculation from. It’s not like they’d stopped being affectionate with each other -- the kids were forever complaining about it, actually. Which only made them do it more, because it was funny. But apparently, that was too subtle. They were going to have to take things a little bit farther to get the message across.
Bucky, who normally contained himself to shooting at bad guys, and the occasional knife fight when one got too close, switched it up a bit and picked up one of the Not-Quite-Doombots (Tony didn’t know what they were, but they weren’t Doom’s robots, those things were dangerous, these were more like knock-off, dollar store bots. Annoying, clunky, and prone to malfunctions. The Avengers were only called in because there were so many of them) and threw it.
The ‘bot crashed into a nearby coffee shop and sent patrons screaming away. The way Bucky glared at the shop, without paying the least bit attention to the scrap metal he’d just failed to recycle, made Tony wonder if the collateral damage was a little more directed than usual.
But that was the last one. Nothing was still standing that wasn’t wearing signature colors (and the bystanders, who were by-fleers). Bucky took two running steps, hit a park bench, and leaped, getting an arm around Tony and practically tackling him to the ground. It was a good thing Tony had all sorts of shock resistance built into the armor. As it was, the fall jolted his breath out of him and Bucky thumbed the helmet’s release and was kissing him before Tony could recover his air.
“Mph--” Tony tried to say, then gave up and kissed his husband. It was shorter than usual, because air was a thing, and Tony hadn’t started out with a full breath. “Fighting knockoff Doombots gets you hot and bothered now?” he teased.
“No,” Bucky said. He nuzzled at Tony’s jaw. “College girls daring each other to flash Iron Man when he flew by kinda pisses me off, though. That one in th’ blue shirt left her damn brassiere on the table.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “No subtlety at all,” he complained. “Think it’s time to do something about this mess?”
“Mmmm,” Bucky said. He rolled to his feet and offered Tony a hand up. Steve was squawking over comms about the cleanup. Bucky made a face, tugged his earpiece out and threw it over his shoulder. “Fight fire with fire.” He lifted Tony up, armor and all, kissed him again, like they were in some sort of romcom and the wreckage of the street was a field of flowers.
Tony returned the kiss, with interest. “Have I mentioned before how hot it is that you can manhandle me in the suit?” He grinned down at his husband.
“You an’ the suit don’t even weigh what Thor does,” Bucky said. At Tony’s dubious look, Bucky added, “we did ‘get help’ last fight. It was fun.” He turned and carried Tony right back to the coffee shop, which was abandoned and ruined. Bucky took particular pains to step on the lacy bralette laying, forgotten, on the floor. He pushed into the back office, depositing Tony on the desk and swept it clear of rubble.
“Really?” Tony asked. “This is your choice of location?” He didn’t waste any time unfolding himself from the suit. He glanced up at the security camera in the corner and shot it with an EMP blast. There was a limit to how much evidence he wanted the press to get their hands on.
“Smells better than a broom cupboard,” Bucky said with a shrug. “An’ if someone’s gettin’ naked about you in a coffee shop, it’s gonna be me.” He worked open his armor one handed. “Gonna be a quickie. Once I’m outta this shit, I don’t like t’ put it back on until it’s clean.” He licked his way into Tony’s mouth, one hand sliding down the underflight suit until he reached Tony’s hip. “But I’ll make you feel real good, baby.”
“Promises, promises,” Tony taunted, groping down the front of Bucky’s armor and generally interfering with Bucky’s attempt to get it opened, until he got his hand on Bucky’s cock. “Already hard for it? You sure it wasn’t the ‘bots?” Tony grinned impishly until Bucky growled and leaned in to kiss the smirk off his face.
“Maybe a little bit th’ ‘bots,” Bucky said. “It’s nice t’ cut loose an’ not worry about hurtin’ people.” He groaned, pushing against Tony’s hand. “Gonna be even quicker than a quickie if you keep doin’ that.”
Tony was pretty sure Bucky would be able to manage a second round if he did shoot off quick, but it was also a pretty good bet that Steve or someone else would come looking for them if they were missing too long, so they probably didn’t have time for two rounds.
Tony wasn’t completely hard yet -- he wasn’t as fast on the draw as Bucky -- but the warm press of Bucky’s body and the firm stroke of Bucky’s hand as it slipped into the suit was getting him there pretty easily. “RPF,” he murmured. “Coffee shop AU.”
“Look at you, baby,” Bucky crooned. “Love it when you’re all sweaty ‘n dishevelled.” He rubbed Tony’s shaft with the heel of his hand, fingers teasing at his balls while he taunted Tony with more kisses, his tongue flicking over Tony’s lips in quick, heated strokes.
Tony groaned and tipped his head back, tugging Bucky’s mouth toward his throat. “Oh, yeah, yes, Bucky...”
Bucky fastened his mouth on Tony’s throat, a sharp nip and flare of pain as Bucky sucked all the blood to the surface, tonguing the spot when he was done. He rutted against Tony’s thigh, hips moving urgently. He kissed Tony again, hard and quick, then pushed him a little higher on the desk until he was sitting on it, Bucky tucked in the vee of Tony’s legs. “Gonna eat you right up like an ice cream.” Bucky slid to one knee, matching actions to works and took Tony down to the root in a single motion. His mouth was a hot, slick inferno and his tongue worked at Tony’s skin with skill and agility.
“Oh Christ,” Tony gasped. Quick, indeed; there was no slow savoring here. Bucky worked him with raw, ruthless efficiency, proving just how well Bucky knew Tony’s body. He clenched his hands in Bucky’s hair, hanging on for dear life. “God, Bucky, yes...”
Bucky slid two fingers into his mouth, teasing at Tony’s cock, his tongue working in between them, then, slippery with spit, drew them back, along the crease of Tony’s thigh until he was pressing at the entrance to Tony’s body, a quick little caress and tease, circling and encouraging Tony to thrust up, into Bucky’s mouth. The noises he was making were obscene, slick and wet, moaning almost continuously.
Tony whined and pushed up into the welcoming heat of Bucky’s mouth and throat. He shuddered at the sensation, and Bucky pressed one finger into Tony’s hole, not far, just enough to stretch and burn a little. It was enough to tip him over the edge. He cursed and jerked and then came, shooting down Bucky’s throat in a warm wave.
Bucky licked and tormented him through the aftershocks, until Tony was weakly batting him away, overstimulated and jittery. Bucky licked at his lip, his mouth red and swollen and used looking, face pink, hair sticking to his forehead. “You are utterly, utterly wrecked, babydoll,” Bucky said, smug jerk that he was.
“You’re not much better,” Tony retorted. He gingerly tucked himself back into his undersuit. “Do I get a turn at wrecking you next?”
“Yeah,” Bucky said, eyes flashing eagerly. “Wanna feel you, baby, your nice warm skin. Got a hand for me?”
“For you, sweetheart, always.” Tony dragged his hand over Bucky’s cock, teasing a little before wrapping firmly around it. He kissed down Bucky’s neck, sucking at the skin. “Think if I work hard enough at it, I can give you a hickey that’ll last long enough for some pap to get a picture?” he wondered. He sucked a little harder, pulling the soft skin between his teeth.
Bucky groaned, pushing into the pressure of Tony’s mouth, head falling back in supplication. “Don’t know that I even care,” he said, “damn, that feels good, Tony, oh, oh, yeah, like that, baby.”
Bucky might have started their tryst as a possessive marking of territory, but once he was into it, Tony was his sole focus. It was a little humbling, sometimes, the raw, naked longing that Tony could see in Bucky’s every movement. From the way he shuddered under Tony’s hand to the savage wantonness of his cries.
“That’s it,” Tony coaxed, working his hand faster, rolling over the tip to spread precome down Bucky’s cock. “So gorgeous, so perfect for me. Come for me, sweetheart, I want to feel you coming.” He licked at Bucky’s neck, the salty tang of sweat and skin, and if he hadn’t just climaxed, he’d be getting hard again.
Bucky rolled up onto his toes, fucking up into Tony’s hand. His fingers clamped down on Tony’s shoulders and he let his mouth drop open, all the stress and worries dropping off his features until they were smooth and relaxed. His eyes fluttered shut and then, “Oh, god, Tony.” His hips stuttered, pistoning wildly, two, three strokes. A soft sigh and he arched into it, painting Tony’s belly, hip, and the thigh of his flight suit with come.
Tony stroked him through it, peppering his face and neck with kisses. “So wonderful, so beautiful,” he murmured. He nosed at Bucky’s temple, dropping a soft kiss there. “Now who’s wrecked?” he teased.
“One ‘a these days,” Bucky said, huffing out a breath, “I’m gonna make you carry me.” He shuddered, resting his forehead against Tony’s shoulder for a long moment before yanking his tactical pants back up around his hips. He tucked himself in, belted the pants, but left the shirt open, showing off his chest, and a few round, red bite marks.
Tony found some napkins to wipe up the mess and then got himself back into the armor. He left the helmet off; the tender spot on his neck where Bucky had sucked a hickey would probably show nicely, and it definitely wasn’t a combat injury. “You want me to give you a lift back up to the ‘jet?”
Bucky took a step back, his knees obviously shaky. “Yes, yes, I would like that,” he decided, firmly. “You can sit with me on th’ way back to the Tower. I don’t think we need an aerial escort today.”
“Your wish is my command.” Tony caught Bucky’s hand in his -- he couldn’t feel it through the gauntlet, but it was nice anyway -- and led the way back out into the street. He caught Bucky around the waist. “Hold on,” he said. He waved at a returning bystander, giving their cell camera a bright press smile, and then took off, Bucky’s arms twined around his neck.
“Buck, you okay?” Steve asked, as they landed in the ‘jet.
“Yeah, Stevie,” Bucky said. “Just needed a hand with somethin’.”
Steve took a step forward, as if concerned, then his nostrils flared. “Buck!”
Jessica Jones, who was stripping out of her armor with very little regard for modesty, looked up. “What?”
“You can’t smell that?” Steve grimaced. “Really? Really, Buck?”
Bucky’s mouth twitched until he was forced to duck his chin to hide a wide grin and flushed cheeks. “Really.”
Tony dropped onto the bench beside his husband. “No need to get excited about it, Cap,” he said, probably more smugly than he should. “It’s just a little territory marking.” 
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royal-kard · 6 years ago
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soft bias tag ~
i was tagged by @curledlife​ thank you angel!!
Who is your bias?
i don’t really have a bias in kard, so i guess i’ll just answer for all of them?
What made you notice them?
b.m -  his height first of all, the dude is a skyscraper. also his deeeeeeep voice got me!
somin - her elegance in performance and in the mvs. she just look so put together.
jiwoo - her voice! there’s something about her singing voice that is really pleasing to my ear. tbh i thought she was kinda scary at first, but she is also such a sweetheart.
j.seph - i thought he was really pretty when i fist saw him. then, when i first heard him rap, I really liked his flow.
What is your favorite thing about them?
b.m - his heart. he is one of the softest people, and he has so much love. i love that he is so happy to share that love with his members, his friends, and with us. he really is such a beautiful soul.
somin - her laughter. it’s so bright and bubbly just like her. it’s that kind of laughter thats infectious. when she laughs its like the room lights up even more.
jiwoo - her ability to maintain chill at basically all times haha. she is just the coolest kid on the block, and her responses to things are always the best.
j.seph - his sense of humor is my absolute favorite!! he is funny, silly, and he’s not afraid to show that side of himself. 
Who would initiate skinship more?
b.m - he would? he’s very affectionate with people he’s friends with, so even if its just his arm around the shoulder or a touch every so often, he would be the one initiating that. 
somin - again, i think she would probably be the one to initiate it. it would probably be mostly arm linking though.
jiwoo - we would be even. jiwoo isn’t too into skinship from what i’ve noticed, and neither am i. 
j.seph - he would. hands down. he seems to be the most keen on initiating some soft of physical contact with people. so yeah it would be him. 
Who would hog the blankets more?
b.m - he seems like he would take the blanket, but then, he would wake up in the night and cover me up because he saw that he took it all, but idk his sleep habits so idk haha
somin - i think she would have them. not that i mind tbh, but to me she seems friolenta, so i would let her have the blankets.
jiwoo - i think we’d be even on this one too? 
j.seph - i can see this kid rolling himself into a burrito with the blankets, so im gonna have to say he would take them all. 
Who would be more clingy?
b.m - him. he’s got that vibe.
somin - i think maybe me? it’s probably me.
jiwoo - definitely me. she doesn’t come off as clingy in any sense of the word.
j.seph - him. like b.m, he just gives off that vibe. and i don’t mean in the overly obsessive clingy way. both of the boys would just check in with you, make sure you’re doing alright more frequently than the girls. i think it’s because theyre older and they really just wanna look out for and protect the people they care about. the girls would be much more chill. 
Who would be more easily flustered?
ME. 
What cuddling position would you two have?
b.m - I. WANNA. BE. THE. LITTLE. SPOON. can you imagine being enveloped by by matthew??? that would be the best thing in the world?? because he always looks so warm and cozy!!! i would feel so safe like that...wow im gonna go cry now haha 
somin - her head would be on my lap as i run my fingers through her hair. is that a cuddling position? probably not. but i’m gonna make it one. why? because i can, and because this would be the way we would spend lazy sundays. 
jiwoo - again, not really cuddling, PERO we’d lay down with our backs touching.  there’s not a lot of physical contact, but just enough to know that the other person is there. it’s comforting and comfortable.
j.seph - id love to just relax and lay my head on his chest. listen to his heartbeat. one of his arms wrapped around me too. it would be so nice. seriously folks just thinking about this is... a lot. 
What colors remind you of them and why?
b.m - red. he’s so full of passion and drive for all the things that he does. he’s also got this type of personality that has such a powerful impact. also he looks super good in red.
somin - pink. there’s always such a softness to somin. i know that she’s fierce and powerful, but she is always such a soft soul. she has a lightness to her that the color pink reflects.
jiwoo - indigo. a cool tone for a cool person. the color fits the mysterious, chic vibe that she has, but it’s also a calm color. much like jiwoo, the color indigo is a soothing color. 
j.seph - yellow. j.seph is such a bright person. he can be serious, but he always a bright aura around him. he takes things with stride, and just continues to smile. the color yellow suits that joyful and playful personality of his! 
Which season would you like to spend with them?
i’d want to spend winter with all of them because it’s my favorite season, but I feel like B.M is more a summer dude, Somin is more like spring as is J.seph, and Jiwoo is an autumn/winter gal to me. but i wanna spend winter with them!
Who would bake the cookies and who would steal the batter?
b.m- we would probably both bake the cookies, but he would steal the batter. i don’t like eating the batter like that tbh baking would probably be so fun with b.m though because he follows the instructions, but would probably toss in some interesting ingredients.
somin - we’d probably both end up making each other cookies. we make them at the same time, but individually, so we’d probably be so focused in making them that the batter would remain intact! 
jiwoo - mmmm i would bake the cookies while she sat at the counter and watched? she’d probably dip her finger in the batter to try it a couple of times, and give her opinion on the taste though!
j.seph - no cookies would be made. he wouldn’t be tasting the batter, but playing with it? like smearing it on my cheek or nose, and then i would have to retaliate, and then minutes later there would be no batter left haha 
Which one would make bad puns and how would the other react?
b.m- he would make all the puns (good and bad), i’d just laugh because he never really has any truly bad puns 
somin- i’d definitely make all the bad puns. i think she would just do what she does with the boys and cringe and smack my arm lol
jiwoo- it would still be me making all the bad jokes. jiwoo would probably just stare at me or walk away (but would crack a smile... she loves bad puns i know it)
j.seph- he is the king of all jokes and silliness, so it would definitely be this boy cracking all the puns. i wouldn’t be able to help myself, and i can 100% guarantee that i’d be crying of laughter.
Who would want to adopt 50 dogs and cats?
all of us. 
Which one of you would nearly burn down the kitchen to try to microwave a poptart and who would come to the rescue?
...i don’t microwave pop tarts so, if any of them do, it would be them lol. i’d come and help them out though!! 
Who likes to lean over tall railings and who pulls them back?
(I have a fear of heights so...I am not leaning over any tall railings anytime soon.)
b.m- you know as free spirited and wild as he seems, matthew is very careful so perhaps neither of us would lean over the railings. if he did though, i’d grip onto his shirt so tight to pull him back. 
somin- for sure neither of us would be leaning over any railings. we’d be so far from the edge appreciating having only solid ground beneath us.
jiwoo- jiwoo would probably get kicks out of looking over the railing. she’d probably tease me by leaning over it a couple of times, and just looking back to see my reaction (she’s a bit of a daredevil lol) so it would be me taking her away from the railing. 
j.seph- he would lean over the railing out of sheer curiosity, but he would lean too far, so i would definitely be pulling this kid back.
What would watching a horror film with them be like?
b.m- he’d probably be calm for the majority of it, but he seems like the kind of person whose body would jolt when they get scared, but he wouldn’t scream. he would try to laugh off the scary moments, and crack jokes to make it all seem less terrifying. he’d also cover your eyes and keep you tucked in his arms to make you feel less scared too.
somin- screaming our head off together. possibly in tears. why did we start watching this horror film? who knows! but now we’re too scared to move, and the remote seems to be nowhere in reach sooo... we are stuck. probably clinging to each other for dear life. someone would have to come turn off the tv for us, but then we’d probably scream if we saw them just because we’re already terrified.
jiwoo- depending on the film, she’d probably be laughing at some parts, but she’d definitely get scared as well. she’d probably grip your arm real tight when she got scared, but i think she would try to brave through the film. she’d focus more on the logical things in the film. if it has a storyline, she’ll focus on the details of the story to distract her mind from what might be coming up.
j.seph- so he apparently doesn’t get scared easily, so he would probably be chill throughout the film. he’d probably tease you about the scary parts, but not in a mean way. it would be more in a ways that downplays the horror, so you feel better. although, if there’s a really scary part, he’d probably give a little jump, and ,if you called him out on it, he’d try to play it off or just bluntly be like ‘oh that was surprising.’ (im thinking of that tour avatar video haha)
Who would be the chessy flirt and who would be the smooth flirt?
(i can’t flirt)
b.m- HE WOULD BE THE CHEESIEST BOY ON THE PLANET. HE ALREADY IS.  I think he would like to think that he’s a smooth flirt, but he’s so cheesy. He’d be so gushy and what not, but it’s so fitting of who he is because he’s so full of love and energy. he has to shower the person he likes with that love. he has to. it definitely works for him. though, i think he’d also be the person to say very deep and serious things and end up flustering the person.
somin- the shy flirt (im adding my own categories here) she exudes confidence on stage, but just seeing her gush about hyuna I can already see that shes a shy and giggly flirt. she showers the person she likes with compliments and positivity, and she’s so soft around them. also if she really likes them she’s gonna be super giggly around them and a blush will always be on her face.
jiwoo- she’d be smooth, but with a little hint of awkwardness? she’d probably give an awkward first liner, but then she’d save herself by saying something incredibly smooth. from that moment, she be the smooth talking queen. she’s really witty, so you’re most certainly gonna be charmed by her sweet talking skills.
j.seph- he’d be like an awkward/shy flirt. he’d really try to impress, but it wouldn’t come out the way he wanted it to. there’s the good chance that he would just start giggling instead of actually saying anything. he’d probably try to crack jokes as well ( this would be his strongest point when it comes to flirting haha), but everything would work for him because, even if he thinks everything came out in an embarrassing way, its actually super endearing. 
Who is more competitive?
they’re all competitive, and im competitive. so all of us. i think b.m would probably be the only one to “lose.” the others would really want to win (especially j,seph) 
Who would have to be given reminders (remember to eat, don’t forget your keys, etc)
they’re all so busy with tours and stuff that i think i would have to remind them to eat, and to take their wallets/phones/etc. but on days when they’re not as busy:
b.m- if he’s working on producing something I would probably have to remind him to eat, and to sleep ( get off ig too). he seems like he falls into his own world when he’s focused on something, so we need to keep him healthy
somin- i think she would be pretty good keeping herself on track in terms of meals, but she would definitely need reminders on what to take during a trip or when going out for the day.
jiwoo- idk why i feel like she’s just on top of everything. i think it’s because has a very independent vibe to her, but i think she would be reminding me about things, if she isn’t busy.
j.seph- he’d probably need reminding about where certain things are, idk why i get the vibe that he misplaces things, but in the most obvious places. also just regular reminders about what’s happening (my poor bub seems lost sometimes)
Who sends memes and who sends cute things like “i miss you” texts at 3 am?
b.m- we’re both sending memes, but he would definitely send cute messages. or post cute messages through ig or something like he does for the members. he’s a good morning/ good night text person. also he’d send a lot of photos of him making cute/silly faces i think. also gym photos showing you his progress, and what his next goal is.
somin- i’d send her some memes, but the cute messages are all her! they’d be full of emojis ( hearts, bows, animals, everything) she’d also probably send photos of things that she’s seen that remind her of you. also get ready for photos of se ah!
jiwoo- both of us would be sending each other memes. she’s got a funky sense of humor! she would also send videos/photos of the other members messing around with some a+ caption. also aside from memes,  she’d send pictures of tani.
j.seph- he’d send you some cheesy messages. probably wouldn’t send memes, but he would tell you jokes he came up with or he’s heard that he hasn’t told you yet. i’d probably send him memes only to see his reactions because i bet you they would be funny! i think if he were drunk or tipsy he’d send some long loving message at three am (it would be him rambling about how much he loves you and misses you and what not, but it would be cute).
so yeah that’s that! this was so long, and if you read all of this you are a superstar!
im gonna tag: @somin @sominbiased @oliviahei @allofmylovelove @fensi @jsephology @jeonjiwwoo @jiwoojisoo @sujiwoo @hiddenkard4 @babykard and anyone else who wants to do it!
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discountedmuses · 7 years ago
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tagged by @faster-than-a-bullet
tagging these memes @explodeyrat @medic-0001 @thicc-thighs-save-lives and anyone else ;w;
ooc q&a.
Tumblr media
name
Zacharie / Kristopher
gender
Male (trans)
star sign 
Taurus
height 
5’ 3″
what’s your middle name? 
(recently picked it out) Archer
put your itunes on shuffle. what are the first 6 songs that popped up? (usin’ youtube cause i dont itunes)
1. Gorillaz - Busted and Blue
2.  Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give You Up (R!OT Remix) ((ohmygod))
3.  Steven Universe - It's Over, Isn't It?【NateWantsToBattle Song Cover】
4.  Silver Forest: Kero ⑨ Destiny [English Subtitles] ((OHMYGOOOD))
5.  Official Video] Can't Hold Us - Pentatonix (Macklemore & Ryan Lewis cover)
6.  Afrojack - The Spark ft. Spree Wilson
grab the book nearest you and turn to page 23. what’s line 17?
“I’m always up for a challenge”
ever had a poem or song written about you?
My dad wrote a song for me a long long time ago
when was the last time you played air guitar?
MMMMMMM, honestly dont know, my dude
who is your celebrity crush?
Ohgod, Um. FUCC. I don’t really know many celebrities, sorry ;;
what’s a sound you hate? love?
The noise of metal on metal or plates and silveware. Gonna be cheesy, hearing my boyfriend’s heartbeat when we cuddle ;w;
do you believe in ghosts? how about aliens?
Ghost? heck ya. Aliens? H E C K  Y E A
do you drive? if so, have you ever crashed?
Indeed I do. And ACTUALLY, almost got in a T bone accident like 2 days ago. Poor judgement on my part and also the other person s p e d  u p,  S O.
what was the last book you read?
Oh god, I don’t read so like. I guess willingly would be Night
do you like the smell of gasoline?
MMMM depends, generally not really
what was the last movie you saw?
Coraline ;w; Im a SLUT for stop motion animation fils
what’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?
So, i was in my high school’s marching band and we spun rifles, so we had to do a parallel and like. I broke my nose and concussed myself and got whiplash in the matter of like 2 seconds XD
do you have any obsessions right now?
OVERWAAAAATCH
do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?
It highly depends what they’ve done, but yes, generally. Might not be strong ones, but there is always s o m e  th i n g.
in a relationship?
Yep ;w; almost on 2 years now, longest ever
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works-of-shyvioletcat · 8 years ago
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This one is for @eatmyarse. Hope I’ve done your prompt request justice. Also tagging my friend @princessbec24 who helped me with the plot.
Feysand: Are you wearing my shirt?
To say that Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court and the most powerful High Fae in all of history, was wasted would be an understatement. Rhys was beyond claiming any sobriety for a good few hours, and that would be with copious amounts of food and water to soak up and dilute the alcohol in his system.
He and his High Lady had taken a trip together. They were in some remote part of the Night Court at a retreat high up in the mountains where guests were left almost entirely to their own devices unless they came looking for something. Leaving Mor and Amren in charge they had packed a few things and left. Most of what they had packed was alcohol and sadly that had depleted and unfortunately they had not packed much in the way of clothes. Rhysand assumed that he would just summon what he needed but in his inebriated state he was scared as to what might appear. 
And right now he was in desperate need of a shirt.
Feyre had demanded food, she had tired of all the drinking and now insisted she was starving. To get the food one of them would need to go to the restaurant down stairs and order. He dare not use his magic to send a message to the restaurant as he may be more likely to drop a piano on them rather than I piece of paper. The dilemma Rhys had was that Feyre had taken his shirt and refused to give it back until she had eaten and he could not go down to the restaurant shirtless. Rhys was lying on the floor of the living room contemplating what to do. He had already considered the couch cushion and the table cloth that would hardly even make a cape. Then he spied it. 
There, flung on the breakfast counter was Feyre’s shirt. He had magicked his wings away a few hours ago to prevent him from knocking over the fixtures and decorations in the room, so if Feyre’s shirt was stretchy he may indeed be able to use it. Rhys stood and stumbled on the edge of the couch, almost face planting it, and after a few more unsteady steps he was there. He let out a whoop of triumph when he felt the material, it was loose fitting on Feyre to begin with but it was soft and had a decent amount of stretch in it. He slipped it over his head a put his arms through where they needed to be. 
Rhys pulled it down, and pulled it down again, and tried one last time but it still refused to sit past his belly button. Looking down Rhys rubbed his face with his hand. Feyre did not share his taste is fashion. Or more frankly his taste in black. This shirt was at least plain but it was an elegant shade of pink, because everything about Feyre was elegant. Taking a steadying breath to brave himself moved towards the the door. 
~~~~~
Elissa worked at the greeting desk of the restaurant, the guests hardly ever used it but they still offered it as one of their services. Most of the guests here took care of their food needs themselves as they often came here for a private getaway. But nothing could have prepared for the sight she saw before her now. 
The High Lord of the Night Court stumbled down the last few steps, clearly drunk. But that's not what made her eyes widen. He was wearing a ridiculously small pink shirt. The lower part of his stomach was exposed and she was not sure how long the shirt was going to last stretched over his chest and shoulders like that. Looking around he squinted a little, clearly searching for something. He gave her a lopsided smile when he spied the counter she stood at. 
It seemed to take a lifetime for him to reach her and Elissa tried her hardest not to laugh outright at her High Lord. 
“Mmmm evening,” Rhysand said leaning on the counter for support.
“Good evening High Lord, what can I do for you?” Elissa asked with a pleasant smile. 
With his thumb and forefinger the High Lord rubbed his eyes, “Our High Lady has requested food.” 
Silence stretched a little awkwardly between them but Elissa had dealt with plenty of intoxicated guests before so she took the initiative and passed him a menu. “Is there anything in particular you would like to request?” 
The High Lord took it and squinted at the words, he shrugged a little and his shirt rolled up another two inches. Elissa had to cover her mouth when she saw him actually to turn the menu upside down in an attempt to read it better. 
“How about I choose some things for you. I can assure they are all delicious.” 
“Yes thanks,” Rhysand replied, fumbling the menu as he handed it back. Then he lent on the counter but a little unevenly and almost fell. 
“I could send it to your room if you like,” Elissa suggested. 
“That would be fantastic.” Rhysand gave her a two fingered salute and started his trek back up the stairs. 
~~~~~
The High Lady of the Night Court was not sober.
Feyre was sprawled on the couch wearing her mates’s shirt waiting for him to return. She was much more sober than he was, she had been switching out some of her drinks with water and since a lot of what they were drinking was clear alcohol it wasn't hard to do. Watching her ‘always so perfect and put together mate’ spiral into a sloppy mess entertained her to no end. The shirt game may have been too far though. She had expected a little more protesting, maybe some bargaining. Actually she had been counting on the bargaining. But instead he had just left. 
The door handle rattled and Feyre sat up, her head spinning a little. Then Rhys walked through the door and Feyre just about fell off the couch.
“Are you wearing my shirt?” 
Rhys looked down and gave the hem of her shirt a tug, “What do you think, Feyre darling, is pink my colour?” 
Feyre cracked. She laughed so hard she snorted, more than once, then those were followed by a series of giggle fits that happened every time she tried to compose herself. Then the tears started. 
“I've ordered the food you demanded,” Rhys said as he approached and Feyre watched as her shirt threatened to rip with every movement of muscle. It took all of Feyre's drunk resolve not to snort again. “Can I have my shirt back now?”
“Rhys,” Feyre fought to keep her giggling to a minimum, “the deal was you get it back after we've eaten.”
He flopped on the couch beside her and attempted to give her one of his feline grins, but with that shirt on there was no way Feyre could take him seriously. So she manoeuvred her way to his lap and kissed him. She broke the kiss and smiled at the way Rhys frowned in disappointment.
“In the meantime though, while we wait for this food, I think I might take my shirt back.”
224 notes · View notes