#paradise of the dead soul

[unknownguyrebel]

RIAHNA (PARADISE OF THE DEAD SOUL)

Riahna is the second version of riahnna Princess of the dead star.The white flower is called rifla the flower of the dead soul.

The rifla flower is meaning of the peaceful flower, this flower can glow at night, this flower is doesn't exist.

Riahna place is filled of rifla flower and there's a small hill had a tree on top this tree called night glowing tree this tree had a glowing white leaves. Strange places right?🤨

But that not all there's a many limbo animal living in this place too but they far away in riahna spot, when riahna going to sleep he sleep under the tree and he turn into stone but this not hurting riahna is impossible right? Let me explain why this doesn't hurt him riahna is a dead star right? And riahna is a ghost when he turning into a stone that means he look a statue that never move...cant explain that match but let say that riahna is a ghost who turn into a statue.

And of course not just rifle flower and the night glowing tree is can glow riahna can glow too in the light others people think he doesnt exist but if riahna became a black hole queen this is how black hole begin and theres many glowing butterfly this place is called paradise of the dead soul.

And riahna is the only person and animals who living in this places.

[wordswithloveee]

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

I know I've lost so many things that I can't count and those losses, now, are what's mine. I know I've lost the yellow and the black and I think of those impossible colors as those who see don't think. My father is dead and he is always by my side. When I want to recite Swinburne verses, I do it, they tell me, in his voice. Only the dead are ours, only those we have lost. Ilium is gone, but Ilium persists in the hexameter from which it was woven. Israel was when it was an ancient nostalgia. Every poem, in time, is a choice. Ours are the women who left us, no longer subject to the vespers, which are zozobra, and to the alarms and terrors of hope. There is no paradise but paradise lost.

Sé que he perdido tantas cosas que no podría contarlas y que esas perdiciones, ahora, son lo que es mío. Sé que he perdido el amarillo y el negro y pienso en esos imposibles colores como no piensan los que ven. Mi padre ha muerto y está siempre a mi lado. Cuando quiero escandir versos de Swinburne, lo hago, me dicen, con su voz. Sólo el que ha muerto es nuestro, sólo es nuestro lo que perdimos. llión fue, pero llión perdura en el hexámetro que la plañe. Israel fue cuando era una antigua nostalgia. Todo poema, con el tiempo, es una elegía. Nuestras son las mujeres que nos dejaron, ya no sujetos a la víspera, que es zozobra, y a las alarmas y terrores de la esperanza. No hay otros paraísos que los paraísos perdidos.

—Jorge Luis Borges, Los conjurados (1985)

[Robert Scott Horton]

[thelittlestspider]

free movies

nowhere

the living end

the doom generation

mysterious skin

chopping mall

black christmas

beneath the skin

possibly in michigan

hellraiser 1

hellraiser 2

kill bill 1

kill bill 2

leave her to heaven

it's a wonderful life

bram stoker's dracula

evil dead 1

evil dead 2

army of darkness

hell house llc 1

hell house llc 2

hell house llc 3

aliens

vampire hunter d (1985)

vampire hunter d: bloodlust

mikey and nicky

perfect blue

ganja and hess

nosferatu (1922)

carnival of souls

stepford wives

texas chainsaw massacre (1974)

gentlemen prefer blondes

fight club

carrie (1976)

the thing (1982)

the lost boys

butch cassidy and the sundance kid

phantom of the paradise

velvet goldmine

the devils (1971)

possession (1981)

crash (1996)

get out

paris is burning

the watermelon woman

eraserhead

an american werewolf in london

whatever happened to baby jane?

all about eve

southern comfort

[lucygraysboy]

the sound of her voice alone is enough to send billy’s heart into overdrive, making it pound so rapidly that it’s a wonder it doesn’t just fly out of his chest. his lungs closing in on him, brimming with the very emotions that he’s been trying to smother for these past few months. suddenly, all thanks to the dazzling smile that the beautiful songstress graces him with, neither the all-consuming cold nor the numbness settling into his bones truly bother him. this freezing january night feels like a warm afternoon in the middle of july. his fingertips letting go of the half-burned cigarette, causing it to fall into a pile of snow, the cherry red tip no longer glowing, just so that he can use both his large palms to frame her small face. “lucy gray, my sweet lucy gray,” he exhales, closing his eyes for only a second as tears well up inside them. the thick barricade that he’s built around his heart beginning to crumble. he leans down and presses his forehead to hers, trying to convince himself that it’s more than just a dream, that she’s really here. a sense of familiarity, of coming back home after being lost at sea, sizzles through his veins like an electric current.

“my goodness,” a sigh of sheer disbelief escapes him when he pulls back again, the pads of his thumbs stroking whatever they can reach, the delicate skin near her cheekbones, the dimples that he loves so much, her temples, trying to remain mindful of her makeup but the need to touch and hold and love on her is much stronger, “is it really you? let me take a look at you. wow.” gazing at her as though she hung the stars, he doesn’t care the wind’s picking up speed, growing in ferocity, snowflakes dancing around their faces. all he cares about is memorizing everything about this moment. “you look so beautiful. scratch that. beautiful is an understatement. miss tennessee, is that you?” his heart nearly bursts when her small hands curl around his wrists, doe-like hues marveling at him and immediately causing his visage to flush. “i almost didn’t recognize you either. oh, my hair… yeah, just wait until i take off the hat,” a soft laugh escapes him, pale blue eyes burning like hot coals, “god, i’ve missed you. i’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs, pressing his numb lips to her forehead before his strong arms engulf her, curling around her petite frame and pulling her into his chest.

going for the front door, fingers take hold of her arm over her puffer jacket sleeve and it startles her out of her skin. heart jumping to erratic speed, flinching and out of reflex turning to quickly push away who ever is trying to take her. kidnap her. do who knows what with her. being in a foreign place like this has her more on guard than usual, extra jumpy and instinctive to protect herself. eyes wide like a startled deer, she hears the voice and sees his eyes — only then recognizing it’s billy. “billy,” what was her heart running away from her for now? because she was scared, thought a stranger was grabbing her, that she pushed him without meaning to now that she knows it’s him or because it was the first time her eyes are taking him in since the LAST time she saw him. that awful humid day, with those tears in her eyes and the most agonizing pains shooting through her heart. suddenly…the cold’s not so bad after remembering the heat sticking to her face and the tears choking her that evening. she’d waited and waited for the moment she would find him again, now it feels like that moment isn’t even real as she gawked completely doe eyed, staring up at him in disbelief.

“i’m real sorry— i didn’t know it was you, i got scared and i…. your hair—” she spoke in shock, despite the fact he already warned her about it, “but you’re you. really you.” teeth started chattering but her small hands gripped for his wrists over top of his jacket, cautious about the cigarette in his hand hanging at his side. reminding herself not to tear up and ruin her smoky eye make up she spent way too long fixing just right. still frozen staring up at him sparkly eyed, like she was starstruck and emotionally struck. his tall frame, his voice, his lips and pretty eyes. it was all billy. and he was gently smiling at her— she couldn’t believe that most of all when seasons had came and gone but she replayed the heart wrenching way he LAST looked at her too often, repeatedly inside her head to think she’d ever earn his beautiful smile again. it made her smile too, brighter than a summer sun. looking ecstatic and dreamily as her sparkling cocoa hues melted into the familiar blue, finding her billy caused her to smile like that. not the cold, wounded stranger she found in his icy sea of blue the last time she was looking into them. this time staring into his eyes was the familiar waves of warm sea blue she knew well and had only been existing in her memories— of course she was starstruck at her own best friend she’d mourned losing but had this chance to see him looking at her like that again. of course she was fighting back tears as the emotions explosively took over her heart, her cheeks dimpled and hurt her smiled had grown so wide and radiant.

[mide404]

Greetings,

A life lost and dreams destroyed, a smile gone forever, and a joy shattered and torn apart by war. My family has become immobilized, helpless, with no options or means. Here, where war has imposed its burdens on what's left of my family, we are forced to live what we cannot bear to live and endure what we cannot possibly endure. We are living torments harsher than the harshest prison tortures, crying over the thresholds of our far, destroyed home, our paradise that slipped through our fingers, the dearest thing stolen from us by this war.

Here, my little sister describes her suffering living in displacement camps, and this is what Alaa told me during a phone call:

"We have become nothing, without a home, without shelter. I live in a cramped space surrounded by nylon that doesn’t protect you from the summer heat or the winter cold, doesn’t provide privacy. Here, where there’s no privacy at all, you don’t have the basics of life even for an animal, so how can humans live here? Imagine, the details are painful, crushing. There is no space to sit or sleep, no room for rest or deep breath. Life here is impossible by all measures. We are now living the impossible, forced, with no one to look at us with compassion or mercy, no one to support us, as if everyone united to torment and oppress us.

Streets you've never seen, know nothing about, in a place you only knew by name. It's as if the earth isn’t the same earth, nor the sea the same sea, nor even the air the same air. It feels like you can't breathe here, like a fish taken out of water, not dead but the water is far away, struggling with its soul, unable to escape. You walk like a lost person who doesn’t know their destiny in a maze, not knowing its beginning or end, thrown in the middle without a word, no hand extended, no cries heard.

I can't describe what we are living through, even the pictures didn't move anything, as if everyone is in a coma, no one sees, hears, or speaks. Death has become our greatest wish, and daily we pray for God to take us to His side and spare us from the cruelty of His servants. Is there a way out for us? 😔💔 I don’t know."

Please donate if you can and share our story widely as you're able to🙏🙏

[yandere-romanticaa]

ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔈𝔠𝔥𝔬. - 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓.

❝ your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine, but i wish I was dead. ❞ - dark paradise, lana del rey.

yandere! honkai star rail men. (ana's faves edition.)

❦ Just a little post of my faves on why they love you! I've always been a fan of Valentine's Day because I always have, and always will be a proud Lover Girl™!

❧ 𝔧𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔲𝔞𝔫.

The tender eyed general can name a plethora of things that he loves about you... As a matter of fact, he could spend centuries just sitting in his ravishing garden, surrounded by hundreds of thousands of divine blossoms as he lists the qualities that he finds oh so endearing and appealing.

Frankly, that level of lovesick is a smidge maddening to some people. Others find the general's devotion incredibly charming. It's really a matter of perspective when you think about it.

However, all of his endless praise can be summed up to one thing in particular. You give him a sense of peace.

Pray tell, how many centuries of suffering has Jing Yuan endured? Well, it's difficult to pinpoint because the man is beyond adept at keeping his feelings in check, let alone actually revealing what makes him lose sleep at night. Jing Yuan has lost so much. He has endured far, far too much than one man ought to.

He may be a general, a warrior, a leader - but even he had his own dreams. His own ambitions. All of which became lost to time, strife and duty.

And all of his pain, all of the ache he feels in his shoulders simply melts away whenever you sit by his side. He is no better than a massive, spoiled house cat who just wishes to eat fine treats and be spoiled by your endless love and devotion.

If he could pick how he could die, all Jing Yuan would ever want is to be in your arms. His heart would be still, calm... The tranquility is just so heavenly, however could he give up on such a feeling?

❧ 𝔧𝔦𝔞𝔬𝔮𝔦𝔲.

Life is a strange road to trek on. You never really know what sort of perils you could come across. That was what made things so fun, Jiaoqiu would reckon.

Even if he no longer had the ability to actually see that road anymore...

The foxian was at least happy to know that his other senses had not been dulled thanks to his unfortunate predicament. He may be blind but he was not weak. He was too stubborn for that. Jiaoqiu still wished to fulfill his duty until the bitter end, no matter what the cost.

Stubbornness and an iron clad will can only get you so far though, especially if your body fails to cooperate. His spirit may be strong but his body simply is not.

And you would be there to hold his hand to tell him that it was all going to be alright.

As Jiaoqiu would break into massive coughs, his body giving into the horrible pain, he was still so happy to see that even after everything, you were still there for him.

Your loyalty had remained unshaken.

However could he thank you for this?

He was going to do everything he can to protect you, to love you in the way you deserve to be loved. Just thinking about you made his weak heart feel stronger again...

❧ 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔶.

To be loved is to be heard. And to be heard is simply the greatest gift in the universe.

For as long as he could remember, that was all Sunday did. He would sit patiently as the person on the other side would tell him their biggest secrets, reveal their darkest sins. He had lost count of how many deplorable and depressing things he has heard throughout the years.

It had never even occurred to him that perhaps, he too needed to unveil his own darkness to another.

Without meaning to, he caved into that weakness. He did not even know that he had such a weakness. It was his job to listen, his job to guide, his job to be true. Even after joining the Astral Express, the least he could do was to hear the crew out on their many woes.

And yet, without any real effort, you had managed to break down his walls. You had shattered him for an evening, allowing him to speak his mind.

For the first time in forever, Sunday had been heard. He choked back the sobs, tried to bite down his despair but it was all pointless. All he had to do was to just look into your eyes and he was just so done. You held him like no one ever had, made him feel so vulnerable and weak but oh so happy.

Can you blame the poor little soul for becoming so attached to you after such an incident?

❧ 𝔭𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔬𝔫.

Everyone wants to be a hero.

In one way or the other, most - if not all - people wish to be acknowledged. They wish to hear the praise of their peers, they wish to know that they're doing good. Besides, being a hero has so many perks. People love you, they trust you.

And that same love is a shackle which you can't break out of.

That was how Phainon felt. He had no right to feel scared, he did not have the luxury of bowing out of a battle. If someone even suggested such an idea to him, Phainon would just let out a hearty laugh, his Adam's apple going up and down as his blue eyes shined bright with determination, the grip on his sword steady and more than ready to strike down his foes.

You knew better than to fall for that trick. Even with all that bravado, you could still sense the tiny quiver in his voice. You could see from the corner of your eye how his thighs shake ever so slightly.

Phainon was afraid. And once you had him cornered, you confronted him. Underneath the bright Okhema sky, you told him that it was alright to be terrified. That it was alright to have second doubts. That it was alright to be angry.

He may be a hero but he was still just a man.

And it was in that moment that Phainon realized that there was no need to keep up his hero facade with you. That he could just... be himself. Naturally, he was still cheerful, goofy and silly - teasing you was just too much fun.

But there was just a certain level of trust he felt. He knew that you would never judge him no matter what he did. Phainon was so happy to know that he had a sanctuary in your arms.

A dark corner of his heart trembled at the thought of losing that sanctuary. May the Titans bless him because he did not know what he would do if he lost you...

[goldenspringflower]

This parallel will always live in my head rent-free. Yugi beats Atem and (almost) beats Kaiba. And both of them are allowed to move on as a result. Both Atem and Kaiba escape their soul prisons.

Atem is a God now (the god of the dead), and Kaiba can now go to the afterlife as well. And embrace Atem as a friend.

Kaiba has overcome the idea that death is a punishment for losing. He does not see it as anything dark anymore, because he knows that Paradise is waiting. A paradise built by his best friend.

They are both finally at peace.

[somewhereincairparavel]

okay but imagine. Thalia Grace, after Jason's death, in a fit of desperation, comes racing to Nico di Angelo, wanting him to summon his ghost, because she just wants to talk to her brother one last time. Before it's too late. Before he reaches Elysium, since the closest she could get to talking to her brother after he goes to the hero's paradise is through dreams, and that wasn't enough for her. Seeing his fragmented soul through dreams is not nearly good enough. She wants the message to reach him. The real him. Not a loomy remnant. She wants to apologise, as she feels her soul being hollowed out with guilt.

She should've looked for Jason, even after their mother told her that he's dead.

She shouldn't have been so busy with the hunters that she would have to cut their brother-sister conversation short.

She should've realised how much her brother craved her attention.

She should've come to the chb meeting that she'd promised jason she'd come to, she shouldn't have made her brother wait like a lost puppy.

The look in jason's eyes when she told him she'd have to leave was etched on to her face. Permanently scarring her soul.

She should've been a better sister. She failed him. She failed to make him feel wanted. She hoped Jason didn't face his death thinking that she didn't need him. Because Gods of Olympus, that would break her.

And she poured all of these gut wrenching thoughts to Nico, who suprisingly listened. Yes. Nico did resent Thalia for being in the hunters of Artemis, the same group that got his sister killed. But listening to Thalia pour her heart out to him, really hit a little too close to home. The daughter of Zeus seemed to echo a young nico, trying aimlessly to summon his sister's ghost to talk to her. They both had the same hollow red eyes, burning with hot tears streaming down, the same crease in the eyebrows, the same flicker of rage over their siblings's murder. At that moment, Thalia Grace looked as unthreatening as the king of all god's daughter could possibly look like.

But Nico was glad, that Thalia, atleast cared about her little brother to this extent. Up until this point, Nico had these lingering doubts if Bianca had really cared about him like this, she had dropped everything to join the hunters after all. Hearing Thalia talk about jason had healed his inner child. Maybe big sisters do think about their younger brothers, no matter how busy they appear to be... So he complied to her wishes. She deserved closure from her brother's death. It would do Jason some good too.

He poured all of his concentration into summoning the son of Jupiter, as Thalia anxiously chewed on her nails, pacing around the murky woods in anticipation. Until a wispy figure with rimmed glasses and neatly cropped hair, appeared in front of them.

"Hello, sis."

Nico di Angelo and Thalia Grace were more or less the same, when it came to wanting to make amends with their deceased sibling.

Except Thalia was the older sister who wanted her younger brother back, And Nico was the younger brother who wanted his older sister back.

[tainbocuailnge]

this is a final fantasy fourteen dawntrail post. it speaks incredibly for the desperation of the people of alexandria in its decline that they both couldn't bear to remember the dead and couldn't bear the thought of the dead no longer being remembered, and thus created this contradictory system where the dead are only remembered by something other than those to whom that memory is meaningful. so crushed by collective trauma and grief that they directed every effort to eradicating awareness of mortality altogether and it's resulted in a paradise where everyone is incredibly blasé about dying because the dead live forever in the cloud until they run out of spare souls and are completely paralyzed with fear of their own mortality.

but even more than desperation it speaks of a naive sincerity that the scientists and officials behind the project just actually genuinely built and maintained this giant memory database to preserve the deceased at increasingly large cost, rather than just lie that they totally did that to a populace who won't remember those deceased anyway. they're not harvesting souls to power the war effort while using a recreation of the beloved princess as puppet figurehead, they completely sincerely recreate the dead from their memories and simulate them living happily ever after, started by a sincere desire to not lose their beloved princess. living memory is an eternal theme park that actively goes out of its way to facilitate letting people who remember each other fondly meet again. it's the manifestation of a childish wish for a world where there are no partings, only reunions. it's a theme park rather than an actual city with a dmv and shit like amaurot was precisely Because it's a childish dream. it's fundamentally an artificial experience, but one which sole motive is to bring joy and relief from everyday sadness.

and sphene is the first and most prominent victim of that naive sincerity. she's the mascot of this theme park, and because she's the mascot in charge of providing this artificial but kind experience she can't ever break character. the people of alexandria couldn't bear the thought of her being forgotten, so they created a memory of her that would last forever, but they also couldn't bear to actually remember sphene, so she's a mascot instead of a person. she loves her people, and they love her, but none of them can possibly understand the weight that love puts on her shoulders. the sphene we meet is fundamentally trapped by other people's deeply limited understanding of her.

it's so so so important to her character that she's a small dainty feminine woman that exists to take care of everyone emotionally and be loved by them for being so nice and sweet and loving, and when she tries to arrange some kind of secure future she ends up with an abusive husband who ignores her wants and needs for his own ambitions, and she is fundamentally unable to act outside this highly gendered framework. sphene reads like the commonplace tragedy of the straight woman to me to the point where making her in lesbians with wuk lamat is like. I can certainly understand wanting to grant sphene the sense of liberation and comfort that many lesbians themselves feel at the realisation that they don't have to marry men, so far be it from me to say anyone is wrong to do so. but it's kinda ignoring part of what her deal is for the sake of that comfort I think.

not that lesbians have never ended up in abusive marriages with men but sphene very explicitly does not have other options, part of the tragedy is that you fundamentally cannot actually grant her that liberation and comfort. cahciua explicitly says there's no way to know what the real living sphene would have done because this sphene is a recreated memory of the beloved princess whose job is to sustain living memory. their darling sphene who will always listen to all their troubles and is always nice to them and will always take care of them. she's literally trapped by the role society assigned her, and that role is essentially to be their tradwife mother. the living sphene may have been into women, but the people who recorded her to create the sphene we meet never even considered the option.

do you guys know that tweet thread where OP describes going to a funeral for a woman they didn't know who'd died young of a heart attack, and the husband spent most of the eulogy talking about himself instead of his recently deceased wife, and by the end of the ceremony OP had learned nothing at all about what this woman was like beyond being a wife and mother? everyone fondly remembers the princess and queen of alexandria, but nobody remembers sphene. and just like all OP could still do for this woman was go to her casket and acknowledge that she too had been a full person in her own right before the stress of swallowing everything about herself killed her, all wuk lamat can really still do for sphene is think of her as the full person she must have been.

we're not told anything about what sphene was like as a leader, what her policies were, how she actually did her work, her vision for the future of her country before she died and was reconstructed. they only tell us everyone loved her so dearly because she was so kind to them. we're shown her dying moments and it's her using her airship to shield a civilian, so we can assume her love for her people was indeed true. but none of sphene's history that we're shown and nothing of how otis (who knew the living sphene) talks about her tells us anything about what she was like outside her role as beloved princess. her memories from after her "revival" are dissonant and corrupted and possibly not even real, and her policy of preserving living memory no matter what is a wish implanted in her by the people who reconstructed her. we don't even get to see what she looked like when alive. the only sphene the people know is the theme park mascot of living memory.

cahciua was exactly as erenville knew her and was true enough to herself to be able to turn against the system, so we're not given reason to believe any of the endless were tampered with. but sphene was already dead by the time they even tried to figure out how to preserve her memory, her actual soul and memories definitely long gone by the time the technology worked. we're explicitly told that nobody in everkeep really cared who or what sphene was as long as she adequately fulfilled this role of loving them all so much. she can't even tell you her favourite food, none of the people who labored so intensely and sincerely to bring her back bothered to write down even her most basic personal preferences when they reconstructed her. she has to deflect the question with "when I think of the people who make the food I can't pick just one" because the only preference she's allowed is loving all her people equally. she's completely thrown off that wuk lamat would even ask.

and it's precisely because she is remembered only as this kind loving woman who gave everything for her people that she is weak and powerless to actually do whatever it takes to keep them safe. she does not have the freedom to assert herself, let alone to be cruel or violent or take extreme actions. society does not give her that freedom, because she is a small dainty woman and (therefore) the only role allowed to her is to be their tradwife mother. so while her desire to protect her people is as real and true as it can be part of her plan to lobotomise herself in order to become someone capable of violence and cruelty also reads to me as that specific female frustration of wanting to destroy the sweet babygirl image of yourself by doing something extreme. like britney spears shaving her head. but in sphene's case destroying the babygirl image amounts to destroying herself completely, because the babygirl image of her is all that comprises her. and so when all is said and done the only fragment of sphene that is restored and lingers just a bit longer after that image is destroyed is the sphene that wuk lamat sincerely wanted to get to know.

[agatalunar]

new year, new me… ㅤㅤ𖤓 · What will 2025 bring you? ㅤㅤ· 𖤓

merry christmas everybody 🤍🎄 sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy this last reading of the year, and as always thank u for your support… it would be a pleasure for me if you let me know if the reading resonated with you so do not hesitate to send me a message, comment or reblog, it will make me immensely happy

- choose the one with which you feel most connected -

Pile 1… 2… 3…

ㅤㅤ

𖤓 Pile 1

cards: five of pentacles, six of wands, five of wands, nine of pentacles, five of coups

Independence is a great word for this year that is beginning. You are going to start facing the world on your own, so you must act with certainty. It is a year of a lot of personal growth in relation to how you want to present yourself to the world, what you offer.

“Adult life is no longer a game.” You may be a very, very young person or you may not have had the opportunity to do things on your own, but if you really want the things you want, it is important that you take action.

It is a year in which your soul is going to take very different paths in relation to the past and all of them will be good if you know how to choose them and know how to handle them. For some reason it is as if you are embarking on the path of being a CEO/ a type of boss (?)

Getting out of your comfort zone, recognizing your potential and having security and confidence will lead you to success. Use your mind but also your heart, do not let greed or ego guide you. You may want this to help your family's finances, but you are also doing it for yourself. You deserve to get everything you want and the universe is helping you get it in 2025. Be patient and don't despair. Everything comes at the best time.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Happy than ever - Billie Eilish, This will be - Natalie Cole, “we don't play around”, Let me - Zayn, Whatever - Oasis, “Im freeee”, applause, decisions, “all action is reaction”, being latinx or latin descent, depend on others financially, Cuba or Miami, 565, 6, 3, 333, “I used to pray for what I have today”, Simple - Kali Uchis, Jenny from the block - Jennifer Lopez, emigrate-migrate, vision board

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 1 ♡

𖤓 Pile 2

cards: eight of pentacles, knight of swords, the moon, knight of cups, the dead

2025 brings you a lot of internal learning. Your guides want to communicate with you. Dive into the spiritual sea of ​​your soul and life purpose. Dare to see what has been hidden for a long time.

You will know and recognize yourself from a deeper perception, you may need to connect with your past lives, understand where certain repetitive patterns come from, your soul needs to be healed and there is no one else who can do it but yourself.

If for a long time you have wanted to buy crystals, tarot cards, learn more about astrology, meditate... 2025 is the perfect year to carry all that out.

Do not set expectations, enter that path with a blank mind. "Reborn." You will become the most authentic version of yourself when you manage to recognize the spirituality in which you live. Do journaling, automatic writing, guided meditations... etc. And remember that healing the soul is also about eating well, surrounding yourself with people who have positive intentions, not being hard on yourself and just taking life easy.

This process will also change your style, you will want to dress differently, your observation of yourself will change completely and everything will be for your highest good. Your spiritual guides can't wait for you to take that big step... "do it, do it baby"

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Frailty - Violent vira, 18, 8, “save yourself”, third eye chakra, role models, Very special - Chris brown, Nobody - mitski, Conquest of Paradise- Vangelis, watch things on the laptop at 3 am, Chachachá - Josean Log, Blueprint - Tyler Jane, blue light

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 2 ♡

𖤓 Pile 3

cards: the chariot, the magician, knight of cups, eight of wands, the moon

“Just take it easy, baby, enjoy it”. Literally just have fun, 2025 is a year where you shouldn't think about things so much, “don't overthink it”. Act like a child, enjoy the moment, don't worry about what might happen. But just because you let yourself be guided by the universe doesn't mean you have to leave your inner voice behind, use your intuition, have faith and trust but act consciously.

DANCE, connect with your inner child. Don't care what people might say, it's your life and you decide how to live it. Dare to challenge the rules you've been forced to follow. Connect more with music, it may be a way for you to heal or simply relax.

Be your best friend, no one will know you as well as you know yourself. Take care of yourself in all aspects, physically, energetically and above all emotionally and mentally. Transform nostalgia into healing potential.

Just as you act when no one is watching, act the same way when everyone is watching; 2025 will be a year of great satisfaction for you, the universe embraces you and pats you on the shoulder so that you take the next step.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

BTBT - B.I, 222, False starts - Zayn, “trust me, you’re not gonna crash”, butterfly, Felling good - Nina Simone, wings, Alma mia - Natalia lafurcade, cherry, strawberry, makeup for children, 2000s, Deceptacon - Le Tigre, blue shirt with white stripes, party decoration, dancing in the kitchen, rock, music from your childhood or what your dad listened to, Rock you like a hurricane - Scorpions, As it was - Harry Styles, “be a diva”, You & Me - Jennie, Opera House - Cigarettes after sex, Modern Love - David Bowie, The breakfast club

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 3 ♡

[wordswithloveee]

"You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

[goldenbrowns]

somebody else || bucky barnes x reader || part two

proofread and cowritten with @d4nshyp3r ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

summary: on his 54th birthday, tony stark goes all out and chooses to take all of the avengers to one of his ridiculously many vacation houses, this one in hawaii. given that you're now seeing a guy, you choose to extend an invitation to him so you can spend these two weeks together, enjoying paradise. the only issue is how much bucky randomly despises this new guy, he considers him impossibly annoying, as well as your odd idea to take him on the vacation. after a few days, you notice buckys made it his mission to shoo the guy away...

authors note: really sorry for blue balling in part one :( this took so much longer than I expected, oh my god??

word count: 15k (wtf?)

warnings: 18 plus minors dni, alcohol consumption, swearing, implied sexual themes, dirty talking, smut, oral fem!receiving, oral male!receiving, throat fucking, hand job, fingering, sometimes sub soft bucky (??), bucky is soo desperate, mentions of cheating.

(PART ONE - PART TWO)

Bucky groaned as consciousness slowly crept in, dragging a pounding headache and a dry mouth with it. The morning sunlight was merciless, pouring through the half-open curtains and slicing across the bed. He shifted slightly, the heavy, unfamiliar warmth beside him anchoring him to the mattress. His heart stumbled in his chest as he realized he wasn’t alone.

Carefully, he cracked one eye open. His vision stung for a moment before settling on the face beside him — you, curled up under the sheets, your hair messy, and checking your phone. Panic lanced through him, overriding the ache in his skull. His mind scrambled for memories of last night, but everything after his third—maybe fourth—cup of mead was a hazy, disjointed blur.

"Morning, rockstar," you said, your voice rough from sleep but filled with unmistakable amusement.

Bucky winced, immediately sensing the teasing in your tone. He dragged a hand down his face, half-dreading the answer to the question clawing at his brain. "What... what did I do?"

Keep reading

You stretched languidly, propping your chin on your hand as you watched him with a spark in your eye. "You really don’t remember?"

He let out a miserable groan, throwing an arm over his face. "Depends. How bad was it?"

You grinned wider, absolutely savoring this. "You got up on a makeshift stage, grabbed a mic, and sang Jessie’s Girl to me. In front of the entire party. The entire song. Really loud. Really passionately. I can assure you you're on at least 10 different newspaper headlines, drunkenly singing Jessie's Girl. I can already see it, 'From Assassin to Rockstar: Barnes Belts Out Jessie's Girl'."

Bucky's entire body stiffened. He peeked at you through his fingers, horror dawning across his face. "No. No way."

"Oh, yes way," you said, your voice bubbling with laughter. "You even pointed dramatically at me every time you sang ‘Jessie's Girl.’ Like, dead serious. You looked heartbroken."

A strangled noise escaped him as he rolled onto his stomach and shoved his face into the pillow. "Oh my God."

"And you did a little spin," you added gleefully. "You almost fell off the edge of the stage"

Bucky let out another pathetic groan, burying himself deeper in the sheets as if they could swallow him whole. He wasn’t sure if the pounding in his head was from the hangover or the soul-crushing embarrassment blooming inside his chest. "I’m never drinking again. Never."

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching over to poke his side. "You were adorable, though. Everyone loved it."

He turned his face just enough to glare at you, cheeks burning red. "I don’t do adorable. I do badass. I do- I do supersoldier. I do- ugh... " He placed the palms of his hands against his face as he sighed loudly. He looked so defeated.

You snorted. "Last night you definitely did adorable."

Bucky groaned again, rubbing his temples like he could erase the entire memory. But your voice grew softer then, a bit more hesitant.

"And... well... after your big concert, we kinda..." you trailed off, your cheeks heating.

He immediately sat up, the sheet falling to his lap, sudden dread gripping him. "Shit. Did we—? I really don't remember that. Are you okay? Did I—?"

You sat up too, placing a calming hand on his chest. "No, no, it’s okay. We didn’t really get to it... not really. We started kissing and all that, but... I was kind of off, with the whole Mark situation, so we just went to sleep"

Bucky stared at you, mortified beyond belief. “Oh"

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at the sheer misery on his face. "Out like a light. You were trying to tuck yourself in and you just... face planted into the mattress."

He groans again, this time with real frustration in his face, “Wait, what exactly is the situation with Mark?” Did he finally leave?”

Your heart softened at how genuinely confused he seemed. You scooted closer, tugging gently at his arm until he dropped his hands and looked at you, his blue eyes still clouded with shame.

You couldn't help but laugh. “Not exactly, yesterday at Tony's party, he ran off with some other chick.” 

“Oh…” 

“Yeah, and when we were going up to my room, we heard them in there. But it’s fine, I’m over it. I don’t care,” You continued, not letting him answer. You could see the worry on his face slightly turn to anger, which he thought he was doing a good job at hiding. Probably for your sake, wanting to be supportive and all.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. He really doesn’t deserve you.” He tried, and ended it there, clearly not good at comforting people. “His loss, poor bastard doesn't know what he's missing anyway…” He chuckles, trying to lighten up the mood-

"It’s okay, Buck," you said, voice quiet. "He wasn't a great guy either, your performance last night outdid his whole boyfriend career, if I can even call him that." You added with a teasing grin, "And for what it's worth, you were very absolutely adorable and so very enthusiastic before you passed out."

He groaned again, dropping his body onto the mattress, completely defeated. "I am also not that guy. Just kill me now. Please," he says, looking blankly at the ceiling, looking like he's debating on whether to keep speaking. "Yeah, uh... when I drink too much, I enter this really pathetic mode," he said, cringing. "Not 'Winter Soldier'. More like 'someone please tuck me in and tell me I'm doing a good job' mode. It's disgusting. Don’t look at me. It should be fucking illegal"

You keep quiet, admiring his frustration. He's still wincing at the idea of yesterday, you really can't blame him. Suddenly, he stands up and goes to the bathroom, and you can hear him from afar washing his face and brushing his teeth. "Next time," you can hear him say as he dries his face off with a towel, his voice low and certain. "I’m making it perfect. No embarrassing concerts. No drunken disasters."

Next time?

You try to ignore this and not let it get into your head. You shift on the bed, pulling your knees to your chest. "Well," you call out hesitantly, "there’s just one tiny problem."

Bucky steps back into the room, towel slung over his shoulder, shirt nowhere to be seen, raising an eyebrow. "What now?"

"I, uh... I don’t have any clothes," you admit, feeling your face warm. "They're all in my room. You know... the one where Mark is currently living out his worst choices."

Bucky blinks, his mouth tightening for a second like he’s imagining marching down the hall and gutting Mark with his metal arm. But he reins it in quickly, crossing his arms with a huff.

"Awesome," he mutters, then rakes a hand through his hair. "Alright. You’re not going back there right now. That's a given." His tone brooks no argument. "Just... wear something of mine. Closet’s open. Grab a T-shirt and some shorts or something, you know I don't mind. You can grab your stuff later when... the coast is clear."

You smile warmly at him, basking in how domestic this all feels. Bucky's protectiveness sends heat to your stomach, he doesn't know how easy it is to like him.

He tosses you a teasing smirk as he pulls open one of the drawers. "Fair warning, though. My shirts might drown you."

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

You both step into the living room, and it's clear that the aftermath of the party still lingers. The living room is a bit of a disaster—empty cups on the coffee table, confetti in some corners, and the faint scent of spilled drinks in the air. The kitchen’s quiet, save for the clatter of silverware and the hum of the coffee machine. At the breakfast table, Steve and Thor are already there, with Peter sitting across from them, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Peter’s eyes are wide, his shoulders hunched, and he's clearly in full-on panic mode. Peter, for some reason, only has his boxers on and some sunglasses. He’s staring at his phone with a sense of dread, occasionally glancing up like he’s about to bolt. He's sitting there uncomfortably, his shoulders and face are red like a tomato. The sight makes Bucky raise an eyebrow, leaning casually against his chair with an amused smirk.

"Peter, buddy, what’s going on?" Bucky’s voice is smooth, and genuine concern for him is peeking through. He’s leaning against Peter's chair, trying to hide a grin as he watches Peter frantically swipe on his phone.

Peter doesn’t even look up, his voice shaky as he mutters, “I have a test in thirty minutes, okay?! I’ve been studying for weeks! Weeks! And I barely remember half of what I read. I've never been hungover before!" Ugh, poor guy, looks like yesterday was his first time being drunk.

"What do you mean, Pete? I didn't see you once at the party. I thought you were in your room studying." You ask with furrowed brows. You're right, Peter was nowhere to be seen yesterday, you hadn't questioned that up until now.

"Yeah, probably because I took two miserable shots and had the awesome idea of getting naked and throwing myself on the pool floatie. And for some unknown reason nobody thought it was a good idea to wake me up or tell me that the party was over, cause this morning I woke up floating on the goddamn pool with the shape of my sunglasses imprinted into my face" He rambles on without catching his breath, clearly very affected by this.

You stare at Peter, your brows furrowing further as his words sink in. “Wait, you what?” You blink in disbelief, not sure whether to laugh or be concerned.

Peter awkwardly face palms, running a hand through his messy hair, his face red, not just from the burns but also from embarrassment. “Yeah, so, I might have gotten a little carried away... but I swear it seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, I’m a first-time drinker, okay? I didn’t know what I was doing. The floatie was... comfortable.”

You and Bucky sit down at the breakfast table, the sunlight pouring through the large windows, casting a warm glow over everything. You sit on one side of the table, facing the serene view of the pool and the compound’s lush outdoor landscape, while Bucky takes his seat across from you, facing the inside of the compound. It’s peaceful, too peaceful for what you can sense brewing in the air.

As you start to pour some coffee into your mug, you glance up at Bucky, and that’s when you notice it. There’s something off in his expression; he's looking right behind you. Almost like he's zoned off into the distance. But his jaw is unusually tense, the muscles moving beneath his skin, and his eyes are narrowed just slightly—like he's focusing on something, sizing it up. You’ve seen that look before. You know it’s the one he gives Mark whenever the two of them lock eyes. It's a look that says, I'm watching you. And sure enough, just as you turn your head, Mark is stepping into the kitchen.

Mark’s hair is still a bit messy, his shirt rumpled, and he looks half-asleep as he makes his way toward the table. But Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off him. The muscles in his jaw flex again, harder this time. The air seems to thicken as he stares, a hard glint in his eyes. There’s no mistaking it: Bucky’s pissed.

Mark finally notices, glancing around the room before his eyes land on you. “Hey,” he says, offering a hesitant smile as he makes his way toward the breakfast table.

Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off Mark. “What, you think you’re just going to walk around here like nothing happened?” he growls, voice low and venomous. “And you're... just here for the mess? Didn’t think you’d want to stick around for this.”

Mark’s face turns a deeper shade of red. "I—" He starts to speak but is cut off by Bucky's scornful laugh.

“You don’t get to talk, Mark,” Steve spits, eyes narrowing. “Not after what you did.”

Peter looks over at you, wide-eyed, and mutters, “This is definitely not how I imagined my first morning in Hawaii."

Mark was obviously taken aback by all of this. He starts conjuring up a comment, which, by the look on his face, is going to be shameless. "Look," he starts, his voice casual, as if he’s the one in control of the situation. "I get it, okay? You're upset. I was drunk, and I made a mistake. But honestly, it’s not like you were all that innocent either." He shrugs, clearly not understanding how wrong this whole situation is. "You were probably off doing your own thing last night, too. I didn’t see you glued to my side, did I?" He finishes off, looking at you.

"Let me make this clear to you, Mark," You start, your gaze fixed on the man like he's a piece of shit. "You didn’t just mess up once. You didn’t ‘get drunk and make a mistake.’ You intentionally decided to disrespect me. You’re not a victim here, so don’t even try to spin it like you are."

Bucky pushes himself off his chair and begins, “Don’t you dare stand there and act like we’re all supposed to feel sorry for you, Mark. You made a choice. You know what you did, and don’t you even think about trying to justify it? You were drunk? News flash, buddy, we all were."

The table stayed quiet, but somehow, even in that peacefulness, you knew everyone agreed with you two.

"No, Bucky, you’re right," you say, taking a deep breath. You turn to Mark, fury building in your chest. "I’ve had enough of this pathetic excuse for a man standing here, acting like he has some right to make this about anything else but him screwing up. I was trying to make things work, even when I knew deep down something felt off. I gave you trust."

Mark shakes his head rapidly and scoffs, like he still thinks this is all a game "Y/n, c’mon, you're exaggerating. You're blowing this out of proportion."

You roll your eyes at his comment."You’re not even good at being a scumbag. Sloppy and stupid? Sad combo." You snap, your voice dripping with venom. "And you know what? You’re right. You don’t owe me anything. And I sure as hell don’t owe you anything either. So take your pathetic excuses and get the hell out of here."

Steve chimes in from the other end of the table, trying to control his desire to punch the living daylight out of him.. "You don’t deserve to even say her name." Steve then stood up after saying this, his chair scraping sharply against the floor. He didn't raise his voice — he didn’t have to. The authority in his tone was enough. "That's enough. You’re not welcome here anymore."

Mark scoffed, attempting one last desperate smirk. "What, Cap? Gonna throw me out yourself?"

Thor, who had been quietly seething, stood as well, still chewing onto a piece of bread loudly. The temperature of the room seemed to shift when he moved.

"Nay, not just him," Thor said, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It will be our honor."

Mark squirmed and protested as they dragged him across the living room, probably screaming all types of curse words at me. His sneakers skidding awkwardly against the polished floors.

"You might wanna pick up some self-respect on the way out," Steve muttered under his breath.

Tony, seemingly out of nowhere, strolled in from the hallway, dressed in a rumpled AC/DC T-shirt and plaid pajama pants. "Oh, hi, Mark," he said casually, dropping the reference with a completely straight face.

Thor, ever dramatic, added, "And if you ever return, pray that I am not here to greet you." He punctuated the threat with a pat on Mark’s back — one that sent him stumbling toward the exit. You didn't really know what was gonna happen with him, where he was gonna go or what he was gonna do. To be honest, you didn't care, but knowing Tony, you knew he was already tapping away on his phone calling a car for the airport.

As Thor and Steve made their way back to the table, Bucky tapped Steve on his back with a grin and said "Well, looks like trash day came early"

Tony, looking up from his phone, analyzed the room once more — the furious faces, the empty spot where Mark had just been dragged out — and pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead.

"Alright," Tony drawled, "which one of you divas broke the compound before I had my coffee?"

Steve shook his head, taking a long break between each word as if looking for the proper phrasing. "Handled a situation."

"Yeah, I saw," Tony deadpanned, glancing at the door. "If you threw him any harder, we’d be getting a noise complaint from space."

Thor grunted, still adjusting his sleeves. "A cheating worm has been exiled."

"Guy must’ve had a death wish," Tony muttered, sipping his coffee. "Honestly, Thor dragging him out is the nicest thing that's ever happened to him. If it were up to me, I would’ve dropped him off of Rockefeller Center."

Peter, still looking groggy, chimed in quietly, "Mr. Stark, it was kinda awesome, actually."

Tony smirked, ruffling Peter's hair as he passed him. "Kid were gonna have to work on your definitions of 'awesome' and 'legally questionable.'"

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

A couple of hours later and a few drinks in, everyone seemed to have found their entertainment for the day. Tony was telling off Natasha and Wanda after Peter let it slip that they were the ones who slipped him a bottle at the party. Natasha is defending herself, saying something along the lines of helping him build character. Scott, Bruce, and Sam were in the kitchen trying to perfect a mystery drink so they could have everyone try it at dinner. 

Down at the beach, Pepper and Maria were having some drinks, while Steve and Bucky were running along the shore because they just couldn't afford to miss a couple days without exercising. They had been trying to dig the biggest hole possible in the sand with Tony before he decided to give a lecture to Natasha and Wanda. You stayed by the pool, rubbing some aloe vera on Peter. The poor kid would not stop complaining about how much it stinged, but it was necessary, if you didn’t want him walking around with his skin peeling off in chunks. Thor, who was next to you sunbathing, opened his eyes and took a bit of pity in Peter as well.

“You are now a man, young Parker. Stop wallowing and be proud!” He started, trying to distract Peter from the burning sensation. “Ah, I still remember my first drunken endeavour. I was at the blushing age of 14, and I couldn’t get out of bed for a week! Of course my brother Loki took every chance he could to try and stab me. Oh, how I miss those days…” He trailed off looking into the horizon.

“What?!” Peter tried turning around to see if Thor was joking or not. You turned him back around, still applying the refreshing aloe. 

“Ignore him, Pete, he’s joking.” You reassure him, looking back at Thor, and give him a look as if to tell him not helping. “Oh! How did your test go?” You say in hopes of distracting him, now from Thor’s horrifying childhood stories.

“Oh please don’t remind me, I’m so sure I failed” He kept beating himself up and you weren’t really sure how to help him. Thankfully he broke the silence again, “Hey Y/n, are you feeling okay? Y’know with the whole Mark situation.” He slightly turned so he could look at you, genuinely concerned since he saw you as an older sister. 

“I’m alright, Pete. I promise.” You assure him, not wanting to worry any longer or keep being reminded of the events that took over last night and at breakfast earlier. You could tell he didn’t want to drop it so you started talking again, “I just wish he didn’t have to be such an asshole, y’know? If he hated me that much, he could’ve dumped me before I even brought him here. But let’s not talk about him anymore. I just want to enjoy our time here.”

With that, Peter seemed satisfied and stood up, making his way to the buggies, promising he’d come back every two hours so you could reapply his sunscreen. He had planned to build a sandcastle with Tony, who was still disappointed in him for getting so drunk, threatening to tell his Aunt May.

You leaned back, watching Peter jog off into the distance, still moving a bit clumsily from his sunburns. You hoped Tony would go easy on him, but knowing him, that's a long shot. As you began to close your eyes to enjoy the sun, you heard Thor sigh dramatically next to you. You opened one eye and turned to meet his gaze, which was already set on you. 

“So, what is this thing you and Sergeant Barnes have going on?” He asks with a shameless grin, he's such a gossip. 

“Sorry?” You asked him, clearly caught off guard by this question. You'd definitely expect this kind of question from Tony or Nat, but surely not from Thor.

“Come on now, lady y/n. Even my brother, far away in some strange realm, planning some poor souls demise, can feel the tension between you two” He finishes with a booming belly laugh, he really enjoys hearing himself speak, doesn't he? 

“God. Well, I don't know if there's any tension there, Thor.” You wander off, chewing on your lip for a second, just to continue your rambling, “I mean… Do you think there's tension there? I really need a second opinion here, Thor.” You're very much aware of what happened yesterday after the party, but something deep in your mind tells you Bucky was acting that way because of all the alcohol in his system. You really don't know what to think or what to assume. Was there really tension? Could this be something more than a one-night stand?

“Well, yes! I thought it was obvious to all, is it not?” he declared with a booming voice. “I could strike the tension with Mjolnir itself! I'm pretty sure even young Peter sensed it, and he's still just a hatchling.”

You groaned again, covering your face with your hands for a moment. “God. I’m doomed.”

Thor just laughed—a big, hearty, Thor laugh—and clapped you on the shoulder so hard your entire chair wobbled.

“Nonsense, Ms y/n! It's a tale as old as time: Man gazes upon woman. A woman gazes upon a man. A fable so foolish, only the fires of fornication could set it in motion!” He basically screams in your face as he keeps his hand on your shoulder, massaging it a bit. 

You can't help but laugh with him at his wording of thoughts. “Alright, Thor, that's enough out of you.” I chuckle at him, sending him a friendly smile to let him know it's all in good fun.

You peeked at Bucky out of the corner of your eye — now grabbing a towel and running a hand through his damp hair — and you felt your stomach twist again in a way that was getting far too familiar.

Maybe, Thor wasn’t completely wrong.

Maybe.

“Subtlety is an art form, dear.” Thor side eyes you and smirks just before closing his eyes and lifting his face. “In Asgard, we call that sort of staring a battle challenge… do you plan on dueling him or bedding him?”

You chose to ignore his last question and close your eyes, trying to clear your mind. You lay there for God knows how long, probably falling asleep because next thing you know, your eyes are blinking open as you notice the loud music coming from somewhere and the lack of the previously unforgiving sun.

Finally locating where the disturbance emerged from, you look over to see Natasha, Steve, Wanda, and Bucky all making their way towards the pool while Sam was connecting to one of the huge speakers in the pool area. 

Thor is nowhere to be seen, and you’re still becoming aware of your surroundings while Wanda is pulling you from the lounging chair and telling you to join them in the water. You notice Bucky and Steve were already inside, in the far end, looking towards the beach and sharing a drink.

You and Wanda get in, thankful that it wasn’t cold as you had expected it to be, soon getting splashed by Sam and Natasha who thought it would be a great idea to cannonball right in the middle of the pool. 

As you both flinched trying to not get water in your eyes, the sudden commotion made the two supersoldiers turn around to see who was the culprit. As they did, Bucky’s eyes landed on you and he immediately, but slowly, started making his way over to you. 

“Hey”, you tell him, realizing how you’ve barely seen each other all day, apart from breakfast.

“Hello Doll, finally stopped ignoring me? And here I thought you cared for me. I’m hurt, truly” He joked as soon as he reached you, putting a hand over his heart to show you how seriously devastated he was.

“Oh please, I was not ignoring you,” you wanted to add more in hopes of defending yourself, until you felt his hand snaking to your waist and settling there. Your thoughts died in your throat before you could even finish the sentence, so you opted to squint at him, trying to decipher what he was planning for tonight. If you knew him well enough, which you did, you could see the gears turning in his head, figuring out new ways to get under your skin.

He noticed the way your breath hitched — just barely, but enough for him to catch it — and his lips quirked into a cocky little smirk.

“What’s wrong, angel?” he teased, voice low enough that only you could hear. His hand gave a slow, deliberate squeeze at your waist, sending a shiver up your spine despite the warm water. “Cool breeze got you shivering already, or is it just me?” It’s comments like that — said so casually, so effortlessly — that remind you just how far gone he really is. And, honestly, how ridiculous he can really be.

“You can be really insufferable, you know that? It's a genuine talent you have” you mutter to him as you splash water on his chest. It didn't faze him – in fact, it only made him grin wider. Obviously, you weren't aware of the expression on your face when he smiled back at you because he went on to say, “You keep starin’ at me like that and I might get the wrong idea, Doll.” 

Whether it was the consistent teasing, your conversation with Thor or the alcohol flowing in your blood stream, you decided to play along and see how much you could push him. You wanted to see the same feelings and reactions he was provoking in you, etched onto his own face. Give him a taste of his own medicine and reach his tipping point.

You got even closer, flashing a coy smile, voice just above a whisper “Why are you holding back? If you want me so badly then what’s stopping you from taking me right here, right now? Hm?” You watch as his smirk slightly falters and grin a bit wider knowing you got him right where you wanted him. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? The big, scary Winter Soldier can’t handle a simple question. Interesting.” 

His answer wasn’t immediate, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly as his eyes grew darker. “Careful what you wish for, Doll. Girls who play with fire get their little fingers burnt.” His voice had never been as slow and steady before, perhaps he was trying to keep his composure in front of his friends who kept belting out 80’s heart break lyrics.

The closeness of your body, the heat brewing between both of you was making him dizzy, just as much as you. Though neither of you wanted to acknowledge it, silently understanding this cat and mouse game, waiting for the other to break; trying as hard as it was not to be the first one. Pushing each other to the limit was not unknown between you, always training together and challenging the other was old news. But this was different; a personal milestone you both set for yourselves, seeing the other slowly give in seemed to be as sweet a victory as finding the Holy Grail itself.

“Good thing I’m not a little girl then.” and just as fast as it started, the trance you both found yourselves in was broken.

“Okay, that's enough. Towels. Clothes. Dignity. In that order.” The authoritative voice of the play boy himself caught everyone’s attention, reminding you that you were not alone in the pool, although no one else seemed to notice your interaction with Bucky; and if they did they made no mention of it thankfully.

You suddenly remembered you had a barbecue planned for tonight, Tony had invited a guest chef who was known worldwide but you couldn’t remember his name even if you tried. You felt a sudden cold where Bucky’s hand had left your side when you were rudely interrupted. You looked at each other and, without another word, exited the pool along with everyone else, who seemed drunker than they were five minutes ago. You made a mental note to continue the mind games between you and Bucky at dinner, or whenever the opportunity presented itself.  

You enter your room and quickly get dressed, checking yourself in the mirror before heading out the door. You wonder who was already at the table, given half the group was drunk in the pool with you mere minutes ago. As you get there, you’re surprised to see most of them there, pretty sure they hadn’t washed the salt and chlorine out of their heads, all of you dangerously aware that if you were late, Tony would have your heads for embarrassing him in front of the prestigious chef.

Bucky’s eyes find you in an instant, silently demanding you to sit across from him, given both seats next to him were taken by Bruce and Scott; who, according to them, had perfected their mystery cocktail and still refused to tell anyone what it contained. In the middle of the table sat two glass jugs with a glowing orange liquid, which they brought to have everyone else taste and give their opinions on.

Sam saw you walking towards the seat next to him and got up to pull out your chair. You thanked him as you sat down and he pushed the chair in behind you. You noticed instantly the grin on his face, a perfect match to Bruce and Scott, wondering what they were planning, other than possibly poisoning all of you with their strange concoction.  That’s when he joins the conversation he was previously in with the three men sitting in front of you. Steve, who was at the head of the table, briefly got up after complimenting your dress, going over to Tony and the chef to see what was being prepared.

You felt Bucky’s stare burning a hole in the side of your head, as you got a hold of the conversation between them. While he hasn’t said anything since you got to the table, you discover the plan the three wannabe-bartenders had in mind. 

“C’mon man, y’know if you try it everyone else will! I swear. It’s our best creation yet.” Sam kept insisting, but nothing could convince the man who had a different agenda in mind.

“Yeah, and the only one you’ve ever made.” You felt the need to help the poor man, struggling to hold out on his own with the drunk men surrounding him. He looked at you in a thankful manner, but was still aggravated by the request of the men.

Scott piped up from beside Bucky, already drunk, almost pouncing over him, “Exactly! If you drink it first, everyone else will follow. We need a brave leader. Like Moses. But drunk, man.”

Bucky eyed the glass and he swore he could've seen the damn thing bubbling. He held it to the light, trying to figure out what was it these three were mixed in the drink. “Right… What is this radioactive Caprisun supposed to have? I swear to god it was just orange a minute ago…”

Scott pauses for a second. He really doesn't remember. Bruce was probably the right person to ask, considering he wasn't tipsy all the way through the drink's making. Obviously, Scott insisted on trying every single ingredient to give it the 'Certified not-poison by yours truly!' He groggily turns to Bucky and says, “Uh… love?”

Scott seemed too drunk to even try anymore, so Bruce chimed in, “Bucky, do you really not trust me? A professional scientist?”

Your smile suddenly faded as you remembered you wanted to get under his skin; see how far he got before giving in. You decided to back the men up, completely blindsiding the helpless man. “Yeah tough guy, give it a shot.” And just to make it more difficult for him, you had removed one shoe under the table and trailed it up his leg; smirking as you saw him, and felt him, stiffen at your touch.

His eyes hardened and he sat up, grabbing a glass. “Is that a dare, Doll?” He didn’t wait for you to answer as he poured himself some of that worryingly colorful beverage. He didn’t break eye contact once as he downed it in one go, your ears filled with cheers from the victorious men who got up to tell everyone that the Winter Soldier himself had tried their drink, finally convincing them to try for themselves. 

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Dinner was pretty much uneventful, with everyone trying the guy’s drink, and agreeing that it was actually pretty good, yet they still refused to tell anyone what it contained.  You would now definitely consider the drink endorsed by 3 out of 4 semi-sober Avengers. You felt the buzz before you even finished your first glass, and the food was incredible. Bucky made it his personal mission to distract you from your conversations, as your game of footsie went on the entirety of the dinner.

You didn’t speak much to each other, but enough was being said with the glances you shared more than enough times. You couldnt help but notice how low-lidded and dark his eyes had become since his first drink. So when you found yourself in the pool once again with Natasha, Maria and Wanda, it was no wonder that Bucky followed you; opting to stay outside by the edge so he could still talk to you and rile you up even more, without having touched you yet.

You weren't sure which one of the girls' ideas was to jump in the pool fully clothed but you couldn’t seem to mind as you let the alcohol take over long ago, enjoying the way your dress flowed in the water with your movements. Steve was desperately telling Natasha to get out before you all caught a cold, lending her a hand. It turned out to be a terrible mistake, as she pulled him in in an instant, followed by Peter and Thor who raced to jump in the pool.

You took advantage of the commotion, and Tony’s awful singing next to the speakers, to get closer to the edge and talk to Bucky who still hadn’t taken his eyes away from you.

“No way, Doll. Don’t even think about getting me wet.” He acted like he was pulling away, although you know that’s the last thing on his mind right now. 

Your smile only grew wider as you finally reached him.“See, now you’re paranoid. I wouldn’t ever think about doing such a thing. I’m just disappointed you're gonna leave me here all by myself.” You teased, batting your eyelashes before looking over at the God who was currently in a water fight with the spiderboy. 

Bucky rested his forearms on his knees, looking down at you with that infuriatingly smug little smirk. “You? Disappointed? In me?” he mocked, pretending to be hurt. “Now that’s just cruel.”

You swam a bit closer, hands trailing along the edge of the pool, resting your chin on your arms so you could look up at him properly. “Cruel would be throwing you in this pool in front of all your friends. But don’t worry,” you tilted your head, tone syrupy sweet, “I’d never do that.”

“Oh, I’m terrified,” he said dryly, watching you like he already knew what you were about to do. “I mean, for the record... I like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Loose. Happy. A little drunk. Wet.” His lips curved into that crooked smirk again, eyes gleaming. 

You flashed him one last passive aggressive smile before kicking up with both legs and splashing a wave of water straight at him.

It soaked the front of his shirt and a good part of his pants. He blinked once, slow and unimpressed, as the girls behind you broke into laughter.

“Oops,” you said, doing your best to feign surprise.

Bucky stood, wiping water from his chest, shirt clinging to his abs in a way that made it very clear he hadn’t skipped any workouts. “You wanna play dirty?” he said, voice low, eyes darkening in that way that made you grow hotter.

Before you could react, he tossed his shirt aside and crouched down, grabbing you by the wrist. You squealed, trying to swim back, but it was useless. With a sudden yank, he pulled you half out of the water — and then jumped in after you, crashing the both of you beneath the surface.

When you surfaced, gasping and laughing, you found Bucky already brushing hair from your face, his hand lingering just a second too long on your cheek. His grin was wide and playful, but his eyes searched yours like he was trying to find something underneath it all.

“You happy now? Was that what you wanted? To see me with my shirt off? You could’ve just asked, Darling.” He smirks and slightly tilts his head to the side, resting his hands on the curve of your hips. 

“How presumptuous of you. That abs-to-arrogance ratio is really something, huh?” You bite back with a proud expression on your face. To be real, you were really proud of that one. Somewhere, in the midst of looking into his eyes, you heard Thor’s roaring laugh from behind you get closer. As you turn around, you see the mighty God of Thunder make his way to you with a drink in hand, slowly but surely. Before you can go after Thor and eagerly greet him, Bucky's hands move swiftly to pull you closer, wrapping both arms around your waist in a firm grip. It's as if he's making sure you couldn't escape, like he's marking his territory. The move is intentional — calculated, even. He doesn't just hold you, he controls where you go. You feel your heart race as his chest presses against your back, the warmth of his body radiating through you, even through the cold water.

And just before Thor is close enough to hear you, Bucky pulls you in even closer and whispers "You're not getting away so easily this time," he says, voice low and hot against your neck. "You like to run, huh? I don't think so, Doll." His grip tightens slightly, and your breath hitches at the sudden intensity.

“Ah, I see the tension here!" Thor laughs, slapping Bucky's shoulder quickly as if the two of them were in some kind of camaraderie, which only makes the situation weirder. "But you know, the one thing you both should know is the real tension I’ve faced in my life…” He pauses dramatically, catching everyone's attention like he’s about to reveal some hidden truth.

Before Bucky, behind you, could protest “Thor-,” he launches into a full tale.

“Let me tell you of the time I fought the mighty Jörmungandr, the Midgard Serpent. This was no ordinary beast! Oh no, this creature was massive, huge, like a mountain with fangs! I had to climb its back as it thrashed through the ocean waves.” He gestures wildly, inadvertently bumping into Bucky, who looks less than impressed. Thor doesn’t notice, of course, continuing his story with all the flair of a man who’s had too much mead. 

People start gathering around the group to listen, in the light of this being one of the first genuinely interesting tales Thor’s told in a while, and soon, he has a crowd. Even Tony, who was immersed in his 80’s hits karaoke, had stopped singing and brought a stool to the edge of the pool to listen to the story.

Bucky on the other hand, probably as an excuse to get comfortable, took a few steps back to settle in one of the inner corners of the pool, nestling there with you still in his arms. You could feel him shuffling behind you, now feeling closer than ever. For a moment, only your back was pressed to his chest, but after a second, when he noticed this, he grabbed you by your hipbones and forced you onto his lap.

He didn’t ask, didn’t give you a chance to wriggle away — just guided you down with firm hands until you were perched right where he wanted you, legs between his, your back against his broad chest, and his arms loosely draped around your waist like he’d done it a thousand times before.

“Much better,” Bucky murmured in your ear, voice dripping with satisfaction as he shifted slightly beneath you, settling you closer. “Wouldn’t want you getting distracted, not when I’m trying so hard to keep you entertained.” You just looked back at him over his shoulder, wanting to bite back, but you just side-eyed him while shaking your head. There is no way in hell hes so cocky. 

“You always get this quiet when you’re sitting on a lap, or is it just when you’re enjoying yourself?” Bucky was now making himself comfortable, resting his head against your shoulder.“I mean, if I knew this is what it took to get you to settle down and listen to a story, I would’ve offered my lap way sooner,” he added, smugness practically radiating off him.

You roll your eyes and sush him “Can you please? Im listening to a story here. Ever heard of common decency?” 

“Go on, keep pretending you’re here for Thor’s epic saga,” he murmured. “But I’ve got a better story for you, sweetheart. One with a little less lightning and a lot more tension.”

He taps you dangerously low on your abdomen, his voice smooth, “And I’m a real fan of happy endings.”

You can’t even hide your grin anymore. Thor, completely oblivious to any awkwardness, is now fully engrossed in his own story, surrounded by a group that’s all-too-happy to let him entertain them.

“...and there I was, in the finest gown of Asgard, about to deliver the most epic punch to the giant you’ve ever seen. No one else would dare…” he trails off, completely unaware that Bucky had started palpably growing harder.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

It was nearly 2:00 a.m. when the last ripple in the pool finally began to settle, and the chaos of the night simmered down to something quieter, lazier. The music had been reduced to a mellow background hum, the once-bright string lights above now flickering faintly like they were tired too.

Tony had one arm around Peter, half-dragging, half-carrying him out of the water while muttering something about child labor laws and the next Avengers meeting being a pool-free event. Peter, clearly past the point of resistance, had his goggles askew on his forehead and was mumbling about how he definitely didn’t lose the underwater breath-holding contest to Thor.

Speaking of whom, the thunder god stumbled out of the pool, soaked and happy, with one arm slung over Vision’s shoulder and the other over Wanda’s, telling them he was fine and that he always walks sideways when he’s “this full of honor and mead.” Thor continued to walk lopsided, telling both of them how much he loves them, kissing Vision on the head. “Did you feel that? I'm well aware you're an android, but did you feel that?” Wanda looked ready to drop them both.

Sam, Bruce, and Scott had long disappeared. You suspected their mission to test the second batch of “extraterrestrial” cocktails had either knocked them out cold or led them to explore the stars themselves. Probably unconscious behind a bush somewhere, earning tomorrow’s hangover with scientific dedication. The mere thought of this made you shake your head. Those three were going to be the next ‘Parker catch-22 situation.’ 

Somewhere in the chaos, Steve and Natasha had vanished. Not an emergency-vanish, but a very telling, low-key one. Natasha had turned to you with her usual amused smirk just before she left and called, “You two planning to stay outside? You wanna catch a cold or something?” The wink she gave you at the end made it hard to tell if she meant a literal cold or something more... suspicious. Steve jumped at Nat's words as if he meant to say something similar but forgot amidst all the chaos. "Yeah, guys, please clean up and get ready for bed. And you two, come inside, it's getting cold. Don't want you sick on the boat tomorrow. No one here is willing to babysit." He punctuates the whole thing with a few claps to get everyone's attention, as if we were cadets.

Right, the boat. You had forgotten all about that. Tony dropped the bomb that he was taking the yacht out tomorrow, between rounds two or three of Scott's mystery drink. Of course, he was. Because why wouldn’t there be a yacht involved? Steve trailed behind Natasha not long after, visibly flustered when she whispered something in his ear. Were they flirting?

"Alright, yeah, old man," Bucky mutters from behind you in the water like they both aren't well over a hundred years old, rolling his eyes playfully at Steve's comment.

You sighed and finally peeled yourself away from the water, the soaked dress clinging to your skin with every step you took toward the towel rack. The hem of it slapped against your ankles with a sad little shhhk shhhk noise. It seemed a good idea at the time — jumping in fully clothed — and in your defense, it still kind of was. Until now.

Behind you, Bucky climbed out too, dripping from head to toe, his chest slick and shining under the soft garden lights. His pants were sticking to him in a way that made you momentarily forget how to walk in a straight line. He ran a hand through his hair, flipping the water from it in an almost rude display of hotness, and shot you a tired, lopsided grin.

“Not going inside like this,” you said, looking back at him, expecting an answer.

“Yeah, I’m not in the mood to hear Steve get into the ‘how pneumonia starts’ lecture,” Bucky replied, snatching a towel with one hand. With his metal arm, he started fidgeting with the pants belt buckle, trying to take it off. When he succeeded, he slung the towel over his shoulder to easily take his pants off, which were, from what you could tell, irksomely stuck to his skin by the moisture. Who would have thought Srg. James Buchanan Barnes wore boxer briefs? Huffing loudly, he swung the pants over the back of a lounge chair and wrapped the towel over his waist. The towel hugged his hips in a way that made it very hard not to look — especially when he looked so smug about you trying not to look.

“Not to sound like Steve or anything — and I swear this isn’t just an excuse to get you naked — but you really should ditch the wet clothes. That actually is how pneumonia starts” 

You huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you folded your soaked dress over the back of a chair. “Wow. That’s the line we’re going with, huh? ‘Medical precaution’? What’s next, Bucky? You gonna tell me your towel and ducky boxer briefs keep slipping because of gravity?”

His lips quirked up instantly with a scoff like he cant believe youre making fun of him for that, the cocky glint in his eyes sharpening as he turned toward you with that maddening, slow smile. “Hey, I’ll have you know these duckies are very aerodynamic,” he points both of his index fingers in the shape of finger guns to his crotch, still completely gobsmacked you would say that. “Also, if you excuse me, your highness," he starts, with a distinguishable glint of sarcasm to his words, "Gravity is a very real thing. You’re gonna fight science now?” He scoffs at you, turning his back to you to hang his jeans properly off the chair.

"Whatever…” you muttered with a sigh, grabbing your towel and tossing it onto one of the nearby chairs. With as much discretion as you could manage, you began shimmying out of your soaked dress—assuming Bucky had the decency to keep his back turned.

He did not.

Unbeknownst to you, the moment you turned around and started slipping out of your clothes, he glanced over his shoulder—completely shameless, pants still half-folded in the air. His eyes lingered, taking you in with a familiarity that made his chest ache. He’d seen you like this before—of course he had. He remembered every second of that night, every curve and breath and sound burned into his memory. How could he possibly forget?

But this—this felt different. There was something about seeing you again like this, in the quiet aftermath of laughter and water and heat, that made it all feel undeniably real. Not a memory. Not a fantasy. Just you. Something he was not used to. As he snapped out of his trail of thought, he gave you a once-over, admiring the shape of your every curve. Tilting his head so very slightly at the sight of your ass, the shape of your thighs and the smooth arch of your waist. He couldn't help but think how awfully hard your little hops were making the whole situation.

And with all the pride of a man caught in the act of watching a woman secretly undress, he really hoped you'd stop—because, well, the situation wasn’t the only thing getting harder.

And still, he said nothing. The weight of his silence pressed against the space between you, daring you to acknowledge the heat of his gaze. Almost like he was testing how long you could pretend you didn’t notice. You finally slipped off your dress and grabbed your towel from the chair, wrapping it around your body and securing it with a twist. He almost kissed his teeth with disappointment at watching you covered up again.

Once the dress was off, you folded it over your arm and tightened the towel around yourself.

“There,” you said with a shrug, voice dry. “Happy now? I’ve officially joined the nudist squad.”

Bucky didn’t answer right away, just ran his tongue over his bottom lip slowly, eyes dragging over you with no shame at all. Then he smirked.

“Oh, very,” he drawled, leaning back against the lounger with his arms folded, the towel dipping just a bit lower on his hips than necessary. “Now I don’t have to feel guilty about staring.”

"Oh, please! Right, like you were guilty before. Don't act so innocent." You snort and turn around, gesturing for him to follow you.

The soft feel of grass under bare feet was oddly soothing as you and Bucky made your way down the narrow garden path, towels wrapped around your still-damp bodies. The compound behind you was finally quiet. You could hear the faint hum of music Tony had forgotten to turn off.

Ahead, a wooden gazebo lounged at the edge of the garden, half-shadowed by trees and glowing softly under warm hanging lights. You made a small noise of approval when you saw it—cozy, empty, and, most importantly, far from everyone else.

“This looks nice,” you murmured, glancing sideways at Bucky.

He grunted in agreement, adjusting the towel around his waist with one hand. “Bet Tony spent ten grand just on those fairy lights.”

You snorted. “They’re probably from Wakanda. Imported and blessed by some high priestess or something.”

He chuckled, and the sound came easy. The kind of laugh that only seemed to escape him when it was just the two of you. He only ever snorted like that when he was around you, a sound so innocent, so free of burden that it made your heart churn.

You climbed the short steps and plopped onto one of the cushioned loungers, the towel around you slipping slightly, revealing the bare line of your shoulder. Bucky followed and took the spot beside you, leaving only a breath of space between your legs, but you were way past all of that already, so you let your thigh rest on top of his. His torso still gleamed faintly from the water, arms draped across the back of the chair like he had no idea what that did to your ability to speak in full sentences.

“Y’know,” you said after a beat, tilting your head back to look up at the strings of light above you, “this whole night- well, these two days to be fair, have been weird. Good-weird. Like… weird in the way I kinda needed?”

Bucky looked at you out of the corner of his eye, nodding softly. “Yeah. I get that.”

You let the silence stretch comfortably for a moment, watching a few bugs flicker around one of the lights before continuing. “It’s been chaos lately. Nonstop missions, briefings, all that. So, just being here… with everyone being human for a change, it’s nice.”

He nodded, like it finally dawned on him, “We don’t get many nights like this. Where it feels like we’re not soldiers or Avengers—just people.”

You hummed in agreement, then gave him a sidelong glance. “Especially you. You’ve been…” You trailed off, searching for the word.

“Less broody?” he offered, smirking.

“I was gonna say ‘actually fun,’ but sure, that works too,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

He chuckled again, the sound a little rougher this time. “Yeah, well.. You make it easier.” giving you an awkward, tight-lipped smile.

That made your stomach flip slightly—not just because of the compliment, but the way he said it. Quiet. Honest. You studied him for a second, the way the line of his jaw twitched under your gaze, the way the towel dipped slightly at his hip from where he leaned forward. Your fingers toyed with a loose thread on your towel before you cleared your throat.

“So… there’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

He raised a brow, head turning slightly toward you, almost sure he knew what you were about to say. “Yeah?” he said a bit hesitantly.

“That night,” you said, finally. “The… first one." You chuckle, noticing how strange that sounds. "The one-night stand that wasn’t really just a night.”

Bucky didn’t tense. He didn’t flinch. If anything, he sat a little straighter, like he’d been expecting it—maybe even waiting for it.

“What about it?”

You shrugged, looking ahead. “I guess I never asked how it felt for you. I mean… it wasn’t just sex. At least, it didn’t feel like that to me. But then we both just… pretended it didn’t happen. Which, looking back at it now, was probably the worst decision we ever made.” You sigh and your eyes flick over to his confused expression "Oh no, I meant the whole 'ignoring it ever happened' thing!"

"Oh, right," he nods with a forced smile. He was quiet for a beat. Then, “It didn’t feel like just sex to me either.”

You turned your head, meeting his gaze. He looked calm, but there was something in his eyes—something that made your chest ache.

“I didn’t know what to do after,” he admitted. “I woke up and thought, ‘Well, shit. This is gonna mess me up.’ Not because it was bad. But because it felt real. And real is... hard for me.”

You swallowed. “Yeah. Same.”

“I tried to act like it didn’t mean something. Thought maybe you’d be better off if I stayed distant. Didn’t want to screw it up by wanting more.” Bucky pressed his palm against his beard as if he were combing it, looking very pensive. "The worst part of all of it was having to see you over and over at the compound, day in and day out. I remember having talked about it to Sam and Steve, but they weren't much help. I remember them saying something about whatever is meant to be will be." You thought about the last sentence, noticing how Sam and Steve weren't technically wrong. And it looks like he had the same exact thought because suddenly he paused the hand motion on his beard.

You gave him a small, sad smile.

He nodded slowly. “And honestly? I’m tired of pretending I don’t want more. Tired of pretending that night didn’t change things.”

You leaned back again, heart hammering against your ribs—not from nerves, but from relief. Because finally, finally, you both weren’t dancing around it anymore.

You didn’t answer right away.

Mostly because your brain had short-circuited.

“Now I’m stuck. And I don’t wanna go anywhere.”

Those words echoed in your head, bounced off the soft wood of the gazebo. You could feel the warmth of him beside you — the steadiness of his breathing, the calm strength radiating off of him like a space heater.

You swallowed, eyes flicking away briefly before glancing back at him with a half-smirk. “Okay,” you whispered, more to test the word on your tongue than anything else. “That was good. I’ll give you that. Kind of hard to top ‘I’m stuck and I don’t wanna go anywhere.’”

Bucky’s lips tugged into a grin. “Damn. Should’ve saved it for a more dramatic moment. Like mid-battle. Or during a heist.”

“Or on a rooftop in the rain,” you offered.

He laughed again — that rare, low, real laugh that always made your chest tighten just a little. “I’ll keep it in my pocket for the next dramatic rooftop situation.”

You hummed, leaning back on your elbows and staring at the sky. The stars above were faint with the glow of the compound lights, but still there — quiet, unmoving.

It wasn’t loud between you.

Just… comfortable.

Safe.

You could hear the gears in Buckys head turning and shifting, you could tell he wanted to say something by the way his eyes flickered all over the garden. “You know…” Bucky broke the silence, his voice low, “I’ve been trying not to bring it up, that night. Figured I’d just mess things up if I did.”

You turned to glance at him, head tilted, “Why? Because of the whole ‘teammates with benefits’ taboo?”

He gave a dry chuckle. “More like… I didn’t want you to think it was just about the sex." He paused as if gaining the confidence to say this next thing. "But... you remember how I touched you that night, right?” Bucky’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as he leaned in just a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. He had turned to look at you, you could tell out of the corner of your eye.

You froze, suddenly aware of how close he was, of how the way the space between you felt so much tighter than it did minutes ago. You swallowed, your voice coming out a little shaky "You've really got to ask?” you chuckle trying to relieve some of the tension.

Bucky chuckled softly, snaking a hand up your thigh, just high enough to curl a finger on the bottom of the towel. “I don't know, Doll. I think about it a lot, actually. How responsive you were to my touch, how soft you felt under my hands.” As he spoke, his gaze flicked between his hand fidgeting with the towel and your eyes. That damn smirk, he really knew how to get under your skin.

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice a little quieter. “I remember.”

He shuffled closer to you, and you could feel his breath against your neck, hot and shaky.  “Yeah?” You felt his hand move to the back of your neck, steady, turning your head to make you look at him. “Tell me about it, Doll.” 

Your brain turned to mush, thoughts scrambled and unable to form a coherent answer for him. You knew exactly what he wanted to hear, though, the memories of that night plagued your dreams every other night, making it impossible to forget how he sounded moaning your name, and the way the lightest of his touch made you come undone in ways you hadn’t experienced before or after him.

“I mean it's hard to forget, Barnes. Cumming 6 times in one night is kinda hard to compete with.” You answer truthfully, still relying on the drinks from earlier to loosen your tongue, although the effect had almost run its course.

Bucky looked at you in disbelief, either because of how crude you may have sounded or the confession that no one had ever been as good as him. “So you’re telling me that excuse of a man never left you craving more?” You couldn’t wipe the grin away from his face if you tried. “Geez, Doll, I mean I do feel bad for you. That’s probably the worst thing you’ve told me about him.” You couldn’t help but join him, laughing lightly at how bad it actually was.

“Well, he had enough trouble with making me come even once, if I didn’t fall asleep in the process; so asking him for more was the same as asking him to challenge Thor to a duel with nothing but a stick.” You felt at ease, so admitting this didn’t make you feel as miserable as it should’ve.

As the two of you laughed at your own banter, reveling in the ease of the moment, your eyes—traitorous as ever—flicked down to his lap. You’d really been trying not to look. Honestly. But the second he started talking like that, he made it ten times harder to keep your gaze in check.

The towel slung low over his hips wasn’t helping either. It clung to him in all the wrong ways—or right ways, depending on your self-control—and sat dangerously low on his pelvis, practically inviting your eyes to explore further. Even in the low light of the night, you could make out the sharp V of his hips, carved into his skin like some unfairly sculpted masterpiece.

And in the quiet stillness of it all, with him leaned back against the lounger, arms lazily draped along the top like he owned the whole damn night, looking at you through his lashes as if expecting your next move—his chest rising and falling in just a bit too much of a rhythm to pass for calm. 

When you kept scanning him, you caught it—the unmistakable bulge under the towel, the fabric doing absolutely nothing to cover it. You didn't mean to look that long, but… Has he always been that big? Although when you think about it, it makes sense. You could see the bulge resting to the left of his thigh, following the very base of his V line. Thick and daunting. And just as if to make it all the harder for you, resting under the two layers of fabric, you saw his cock twitch. It wasn't subtle or indistinct; it jerked completely unembarrassed and shameless. Obviously done on purpose after noticing you staring.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer, Doll." He chuckles, tilting his head forward." You barely had time to recover before he leaned in a little closer, just enough to make your breath hitch. “Unless... you want me to take the towel off,” he added, voice dropping an octave, slow and deliberate. “In that case, you won’t need a picture at all.”

You wanted to come up with something witty and funny, but all that came out of you was a meek nod. He was so dangerous.

"Yeah? And here I thought you were holding it together so well. Took one question and all that snark flew right out the window, huh?” He tilted his head with mock sympathy just after caressing your chin in an act of compassion.

Rolling your eyes at him, you stand up, containing a laugh, "You know I can just stand up and go back to bed, right?" but before you can even stabilize yourself on the ground, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you to sit so impossibly close to him.

"No, come on! Why would you do that when we were just starting to have fun, baby?" He says, a breath away from your face, scanning it and flicking his eyes all over your features, "Come here, Doll. I'll even let you do the honors, how about that? Does that sound okay?" He takes your hand —the same exact one he had pulled you down by earlier— and places it ever so lightly on his uncovered thigh, just below the edge of the towel. As if guiding you, he makes you caress the inside of his thighs while looking into your eyes with some unreadable, unblushing expression. Still holding onto your hand, he starts leading it upwards, making you feel your way above into the fabric of the towel, stopping just at the very beginning of his anterior thigh.

"Do you still need guidance for this?" he begins and chuckles. "Should I keep holding your hand all the way through it?" he says with a condescending tone, tilting his head with a little pout.

“You— God, no. Bucky, I don’t need your assistance. Calm down before I get up and leave before we even start.” Almost as if he had taken that seriously, he jumped a bit and looked at you from the corner of his eye, as if shooting a threat. “But don't worry, I won't do that to you. I'm not that evil.” Relishing your newfound confidence, you decide to take his advice and 'do the honors' as he said.

You change position right beside him in the lounge chair, your knees meeting the cushion under you. You look at him with hooded eyes, and he takes his hand off of yours, now pressing both of his hands to his sides. You reach the twist on the towel on the very far end of his hip and untie it, slowly but surely, making sure to let yourself enjoy the moment. You unfold the fabric once and then twice, being met once again with Buckys ducky boxers. You snort, shaking your head.

“Still can’t believe you own those,” you mutter, amused and almost fond.

Bucky catches your reaction and smirks, clearly amused by your disbelief. “What? You don’t like my fashion sense, Doll?” he teases, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll have you know these are a limited edition. Real collector’s item.”

You ignore his comment, already feeling a coil in your stomach. There it was, still hidden by the fabric of his boxers, but there nonetheless. Even immersed in the darkness of the garden, you could see the dark spot, already wet from precum, just over his cock's head. The thought of him being needy enough to leave such a spot on his boxers without even being touched sent electric shocks to your very core. He had to have been thinking outright disgusting things all throughout the conversation to have been this hard already. You snapped out of your thoughts and leaned in, pressing soft pecks all over the length of his concealed cock.

"Fuck-" He muttered from above you, starting to take shaky breaths, sounding more desperate every passing second. You could feel his cock twitching against your lips in response to your every move and kiss.

“Oh- you think you’re real slick, huh?” he murmurs, voice dropping. “Teasin’ me like that, then acting all innocent? Keep pokin' me, sweetheart — just remember, I bite back.” He says, eyebrows furrowed into high heaven.

"Sure..."

Kiss...

"I'd really like to see you try, old man."

Kiss...

"Alright, that's enough.” He says, voice worryingly stern, grabbing you by the hair at the back of your head, interrupting you mid-kiss. “Keep callin’ me that, doll. See where it gets you.” As he held your head still, forcing you to stay in place, he swiftly shoved his thumb under the hem of his boxers and pulled them down completely uninterrupted. Now inches away from your face was his cock, bouncing from the motion, tapping you for a brief second on the nose. It was some sort of shade of coral pink, completely flushed and desperate, a clear difference to the skin on the rest of his body. Your eyes snapped from his shit-eating grin to his tip, still indecently dripping precum.

“What’s the matter?” he teases, voice low and smug. The hand that was once holding his boxers down snakes its way to the base of his cock, guiding it to tap against your lips. "Stick it out," He adds, tone stern like an order. As you pull your tongue out, expectant, he begins drawing slow, unhurried circles against the flat of it, “Cat got your tongue? Or did I finally find the off switch?” You look deeply into his eyes for a second, feeling the almost imperceptible salty taste on your tongue.

You pull away for a second, “You didn’t shut me up — I was just being generous. Letting the elderly speak, and all that. Although if shutting me up is what you want, there are a few ways to achieve that." All the while you were speaking, you could see Bucky looking at you mindfully, albeit you were still somehow unsure if he was listening to a word you were saying. Somewhere mid-sentence, he started shamelessly stroking himself, spitting into his hand, and moaning into it as he did, mere inches away from your face. You were so close you could hear the squelch of his hand against his shaft, so close you could smell his musky scent.

"Is that- Is that so?" He asks, clearly struggling to keep composure as he keeps working himself. Up and down. Up and down. "Oh yes, Sergeant Barnes. There is one way," As you finish saying this, you replace his hand with yours, continuing his exact motions. You make sure to stroke him, keeping a specific pace. The second you placed your hands back on his cock you fet how utterly wet he had achieved to be after spitting on himself. Looking back again into his eyes, you start to give him small kitten licks, watching him react almost instantly with a whimper.

“C’mon… stop bein’ mean. I’ve been good. Haven’t I been good?” And just as if you were agreeing or taking pity on him, one of the two, you took him into your mouth, slowly inching him to the back of your throat. The second you did, he let out a groan, not just any groan, one brimming with pure want, absolutely primitive.

"Fuuck..." He rasped, letting his head fall back and rest on the cushions on the head of the backrest. That was the encouragement you needed. After hearing him, you began to work yourself upwards on his shaft, keeping his cock still engulfed on your mouth, making sure to shelter all of your front teeth with your lips —we don't want any accidents here...

You continued doing the same exact thing, working your mouth and lips up and down his cock, hearing him gasp and sucking in ragged breaths from above you. At some point, he held the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair, and forcing you to look up at him. He looked so genuinely fucked out, lips parted into the shape of an 'o', brows furred and pupils dilated. As he looked at you, you took your mouth off of him and spat all the pent-up spit right on his tip, letting it drip in all directions. As you did, he watched you attentively, somehow looking even more needy than before. Blinking back at him innocently, you start stroking him once again, this time faster, trying to keep up with the pace your mouth had before.

“This isn’t fair," He whines, letting out a high-pitched noise in his throat. "You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, baby. No one else has ever had me like this,” He whimpers at you, making his grip on your hair even tighter.

"Yeah? That's alright, cause either way I'm not willing to let anyone see you like this ever again." To make your point be heard, you sped up your pace, not stopping for a second to look at anything else but his eyes. He, on the other hand, was seemingly tearing up. You could see his glassy sky blue eyes shining under the garden fairy lights.

Then all of a sudden, Bucky's head jerked backwards, eyes wide open. "Can’t take much more of this, baby…" You knew exactly what he meant, but there was nothing in the world you wanted more than to hear him say it. So you stroke him even faster, knowing exactly what was gonna happen. "Much more of what, Buck?" You blink up at him, taking the opportunity to use your tongue and play with the slit of his tip.

"Doll- You know what I meant. I'm gonna-" He grabs onto the cushions next to him, throwing his head back forwards to face you, now with a completely different expression. His mouth had fallen even more agape and his eyes were screwed shut.

"Yeah? gonna what?" You tease back at him, taking him back into your mouth. Something which apparently turned out to be his last straw, cause his legs tensed up under your forearms and his hips began to jolt forward. "Fuck baby, gonna- Im gonna cum-" He made you take him all the way with the hand he was still holding your head with, pushing you all the way down and making your nose bump against his pubic bone. You felt his tip touch the very back of your throat as he kept jerking his hips forward. He kept you like this for what felt like ages. He manually made you suck him off, each time making you gag from the force he was applying on you. "Doing so good, Doll. Oh- Oh my god?" You gagged on him, involuntarily letting spit drip all over him. He loved seeing you like this, teary-eyed and red in the face. At this point he didn't need to throat fuck you, he just wanted to hear the little noises you made a little longer, and as cynic as this sounds, he wanted to hear you gag.

It wasn’t long before you tasted it, that salty and strong taste relentlessly hitting the back of your throat, leaving you no choice but to swallow it. You gladly did, passing your tongue over his cock, not wanting to miss a drop. He was writhing away, the sensation too much at once yet you wouldn’t let go that easily.

He had to pull you back by your hair, not harsh but quickly enough that it almost gave you whiplash. “God, darlin’, you gonna suck me dry on the first night?” He managed to get out between pants, as his legs were still twitching unconsciously from the aftermath. 

You only grinned in response, rising to his face and kissing him immediately, a primal hunger overcoming both of you once again. “Would that be so bad?” You giggle between kisses.

“You’re so mean, Doll,” He said softly as he pulled you into his lap, pressing you to him as much as physics allowed him to. “Gonna be the death of me.”

“Is that a complaint I hear, Sergeant?” Your words were muffled by his lips, still refusing to pull away just for a second. He didn’t answer, putting one arm around you, engulfing you completely while the other went under your thigh as he stood up. 

That only lasted a couple seconds though, because soon enough he was laying you down on the other end of the lounge sofa, soft cushions supporting your upper half. “For you? Never,” He pulled away, hovering over you. “Just wanna make this last as long as possible.”

He positioned himself between your thighs, looking up at you with blown-out pupils, his left hand completely holding him up as his right hand traced the outline of your body. The kisses became hungry again, like the air out of each other's lungs was your only life source. The fire between you growing rapidly, wild and untamable. 

His hand trailed down, leaving you hot and begging for more wherever he touched. He grabbed the back of your thigh, going up where skin meets fabric. He groaned, and you felt him getting hard again, clearly the work of his superserum. He moved his hand again, pressing down just above your clothed cunt. With a thumb, he began to tease you. He ran it all along your slit, stopping just a moment to draw achingly slow circles on your clit. The sudden pressure had you whimpering, begging him to stop teasing; yet he paid you no mind, moving as if he had all the time in the world to undo your towel and remove your panties.

He stopped and stared at you, taking you in, eyes glossy and wondering as if had seen the light at the end of the tunnel. He stayed there staring directly into your pussy for a second, you were sure you almost sawy his mouth watering. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” You teased him,  knowingly smirking at the reactions you were pulling from him.

“No need,” He started as he leaned down and kissed your neck, getting closer to your ear. “I’ll have you like this every night for the rest of our lives.” The confession that he was planning to never let you go, and his hot breath combined with his open mouthed kisses at your neck had you moaning louder than intended. 

“Is that a promise, Barnes?” You said breathless, all composure you thought you had left had been thrown out the window a long while ago.

“Get me a bible and I’ll swear on it, sweetheart.” He went back to kissing you, making his way down your chest as his fingers danced along your inner thigh, itching closer but still not close enough to where you needed him most.

“Fuck, Bucky, stop teasing,” You pleaded, getting annoyed by the growing anticipation. 

“Patience, Doll, we have all night” He muttered, clearly forgetting that you, in fact did not, and that you had to be all packed and ready, cruising the ocean in about 5 hours. And before you could remind him yourself, ever so responsible, you felt his fingers slithering from your inner thigh, inevitably sliding along your slit, collecting all the wetness that had pooled there and spreading it around. 

"So wet..." He says almost with disbelief, a tinge of surprise to his words "Did sucking my cock really get you this wet, angel?" You could only gasp, all thoughts interrupted and words caught in your throat. You felt him smirk against your skin, before sucking your nipple into his mouth. “Yeah? That feel good, Doll? Would’ve been so very mean of me to not repay you after the stunt you pulled back there”

He didn’t stay there for long, getting close to your face, purposefully making his lips hover right above yours. Before you could complain, two of his fingers entered you swiftly, making you gasp and arch your back involuntarily. Unlike you, his pace was fast and deliberate, as if watching you squirm was his one and only mission. All the while he hammered his fingers into you, palm of his hand slapping against your clit, he was glaring at you menacingly. “Fuck…” You whispered, all you managed to get out.

“Yeah? What’s that, Doll?” Getting closer to your face and pressing kisses all around the corner of your mouth, as if framing your face. His smirk only grew wider as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, slightly curling them before almost taking them out completely, and entering them again. “Did Mark ever do this for you? Hm? Fingering you until you were a sticky mess? Tell me, please, tell me-” He pulled away from your face, not once pulling out his fingers. He shimmied his way down your torso, stopping just above your pelvis, pressing soft kisses to the skin there. He licked and mouthed words of reassurance to the inside of your thighs, so irritatingly close to where you actually wanted him.

“No! He never did, never…” You managed to spit out. You wanted to beat him with a stick, the sly bastard knew the effect he had on you and you hated how cocky and insufferable it made him. The problem was that your thoughts were completely wiped from your brain and you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence other than the meek pleas and whimpers escaping your lips with every thrust of his hands. The moment you said that, as if to reward you for being so honest, he pressed his mouth to your clit, instantly feeling like he's air sealing it. He flicked his tongue notably quick, if you hadn't been completely overtaken by pleasure, you probably would've been surprised by his speed.

“You look gorgeous, darling, letting yourself go so easily.” He mouthed into your cunt, inaudible. You could hear the vulgar wet slapping of his tongue, and the filthy squelch of him licking you into his mouth.

That’s when he picked up the pace, holding on to the roots of his hair, steering his face closer into you, “Oh my God…” You really tried being as quiet as possible, knowing the compound was full of trained agents and spies who were always alert, even during their sleep. That proved to be impossible as he smirked and looked into your eyes, reveling in the way he made you feel and how tight you were.

You had to ground yourself somehow, so you gripped his forearm, guiding his hand as deep as he could. That familiar coil started to form in the pit of your stomach, making him grin even wider against you. “Thaaat’s it, Doll. God, you’re doin’ so well for me.” Bucky, looking for your pleasure, pulled out his tongue and began shaking his head from side to side.

That’s all it took for the coil to snap, strong, intense and completely blindsiding you. His movements gradually slowed down as he kissed his way up your neck, going up to your cheek and lastly on your forehead. “So pretty, y’know that? Did so well for me. Prettiest girl ever...” He laid with you for a minute there, basking in your presence and feeling the motion of your chest as you breathed. He pressed kisses to your nose, forehead and side of your jaw, making sure to not miss a single spot. You could only smile back at him when you noticed that all through pecking your face he was quietly chuckling against your skin. “I really do like you, you know that? This was unbelievable, don't get me wrong, but I really need you to know that you are so much more than just this” 

Damn it. He really makes it so incredibly hard not to love him.

“I know… I know Bucky, you are so much more than just mind blowing sex to me too”  You both can't help but giggle at your comment. “You were right, you know? You and me… were always gonna happen.” You continue. He looks at you almost in disbelief. You don't know how long he's been meaning to hear that from you. “Don't worry, angel. I'll make sure that we do. Always” Just as he finished his sentence, he collapsed his body onto  yours, crashing both of your lips together. He was hungry, desperate, almost primitive with the ways he kissed you. You couldn't help but wonder the reason as to why Bucky was so pent up. Had he hooked up with any women after you? Had he been waiting for you this whole time?  The thought must’ve been clearly eating at your brain, because at some point you weren't able to contain yourself and you let the question fly. 

“Buck- Wait…” You tried to begin but he kept stealing kisses from you, just as starved as before “Buck, did you ever fuck anyone after me? Just pure curiosity” You pulled him away from your lips to look into his eyes, but he only stayed there for a second. He went back to biting and licking your lips the way only a famished man knew how to. “No..” He muttered into your lips, not pulling away for a fraction of a second. “How- How could i? The second I got a taste of you I couldn't erase it from my lips” He said, grabbing onto the back of your neck to pull you into his mouth even harder, his words coming out almost indistinguishable against the wetness of both of your mouths. “I tried for a while y’know? Tried to find other women attractive, even Sam helped for a while. But I just couldn't, Doll. You're the only one who knows how to work me” He finally finishes the sentence with a quiet groan. To some extent, you felt pity for him. He deserved to have been happy. But to be honest, you were more glad than anything, cause then it wouldn't have led you both to this.

As you kept kissing him you couldn't help but to look down towards his painfully hard cock. You had started feeling it a few moments back, rubbing against your belly, swinging and slapping against you with his every move. You reach down to grab it. 

“Already?” you ask, commenting about his hard on. “What can I say? That super serum works wonders” He replies with snark. Holding himself up by his hands – which were laying to both of your sides– he began to look towards your hand  as you worked it up and down. “Is that so? How about we test that out, soldier?” You shot your eyes open in faux surprise.

He laughed, finally looking back up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about we do?” His smile disappeared from his face instantly after he said this, making his expression one of concentration rather than anything else. He grabbed the base of his cock swiftly with one hand, keeping himself upright with his other arm, and with one languid motion he pressed the length of it to your cunt. He slapped it against you, looking at you with some sort of expression that whispered ‘and what are you gonna do about it?’ 

“Do you want this?” he whispers in your ear looking back down towards his hand, watching himself sliding his cock against the length of your slit. You can only moan back at him “Now’s really not the time to ask, Buck” He scoffs at your desperation and with one harsh motion he pounds his hips into you. You let out a guttural sound, forgetting completely that everyone else was asleep and if you were heard you could be both found here, laying naked. Bucky’s pace began to pick up, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from where you too were meeting, you couldn’t look away from such a sight. 

Bucky leveled himself out and straightened his back, now grabbing you by your thighs instead of being propped up by his arms like he was earlier. You grabbed onto the cushions behind you as your eyes began to screw shut, feeling so completely overpowered by the feeling of him inside you. He hadn’t looked away from your cunt for one single second. He watched you swallow his cock easily with disbelief, shaking his head from side to side. 

“Fuck, missed this pussy so much. Feels so good…”  He grabbed you by the neck as he pushed you up to make you touch foreheads. 

“God, i missed you too Buck”  you close your eyes, trying to ignore the coil in your stomach. Bucky then tightens his grip on the back of your head and pulls you a few inches back, looking directly into your eyes crudely barefaced. 

“Hm? I bet. That deadbeat couldn’t make my baby cum, could he?” He whispered into your face, his voice cracking and shaking after every thrust into you.  

And as if to prove himself something, he let go of your neck gently, letting you fall into the cushions behind you. He grabbed you by the back of your knees and harshly pulled them to your shoulders, bending you in a way that only seemed vulgar. You —insecure and maybe a little ashamed of the position he had twisted you into—grab a pillow from beside your head and cover your face. As soon as he noticed you had done this, you felt the cushion being ripped from your face as he sent it flying into the darkness of the garden. 

“Uh uh” he tuts at you, giving you a few taps on the cheek “I wanna see your face when you cum, baby. I want you to see me fucking into you. Can’t have your pretty face covered up, can we?” He taunts with a face of very obvious sarcastic disappointment. You couldn’t do anything but nod at him; all the snark you had in you before had left you along with your ability to speak words.

Bucky, still as desperate as ever, began to thrust his hips even faster. You were able to hear and feel the wetness between your legs, although very sure it wasn’t completely your doing. You looked down, trying to understand Bucky's fixation. As soon as you did you saw him ramming himself into you, his cock slick and shiny under the glow of the fairy lights.

“Y’like the view?”He smirked down at you, eyes dark with want. The room seemed to blur around you as your bodies moved in tandem, hips meeting in a desperate rhythm, each thrust pulling you both deeper into the frenzy. The air was thick with heat, every breath shared, every sound echoing in your ears.

Bucky was grunting now — raw, guttural — like a man undone, clinging to control by a thread. One of his hands cradled your face, holding you close, his gaze locked on yours as if he didn’t want to miss a single flicker of pleasure in your expression.

The pressure inside you coiled tighter with every movement, building to something you couldn’t outrun. You were burning up — flushed, breathless, slick with sweat. Every sensation hit at once, crashing into you like a wave: the heat of his skin, the weight of his body, the sounds falling from his lips.

It was too much — too good — and not nearly enough all at once.

“M’ gonna cum, Bucky” You barely managed to get the words out — a breathless whisper, trembling on your lips. Bucky didn’t respond right away. He just nodded, eyes heavy with heat, his jaw slack like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. The tension in him was palpable. You clung to his bicep with one hand, the other clawing at the muscles of his back, searching for something to ground you through the storm inside you.

Every nerve ending was on fire — like always, like only with him.

“You’re gonna drive me outta my damn mind,” he whimpered, his voice breaking as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His hips never faltered, moving with a determined rhythm that pushed you both closer to the edge.

“I’m so close, Doll. Just let go,” he panted against your skin. “I’m not askin’ for much — just that.”

And just like that, it hit you both — like lightning through the spine. A chorus of tangled moans filled the air as the wave crested, pulling you under together. Bucky wrapped his arms tight around you, chest pressed flush to yours as if afraid you'd slip away. You felt the frantic pounding of his heart, the sweat and heat clinging between you.

That blinding rush hadn’t even fully passed, but it still pulsed through your limbs, keeping you shivering beneath him. And Bucky — breathless, trembling — stayed there, arms locked around your body like you were the only thing tethering him to reality.

The world felt suspended for a moment — like time had bent to give you this small pocket of quiet, right here in each other’s arms.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath Bucky’s as he lay half-draped over you, his forehead resting on your shoulder, lips brushing your skin with each steadying breath. The sweat-slick warmth of his body was comforting rather than suffocating now, the burn of passion replaced by a slow, grounding calm.

Neither of you said anything at first. There was no need. He simply let out a soft sigh, the sound almost content, and then shifted slightly to cradle you better — his metal arm slipping under your back, warm from your shared heat, pulling you in. His other hand ran gently down your side, fingers tracing soft shapes on your hip as if to remind himself you were really there.

"You okay, Doll?" he finally murmured, voice rough around the edges, but tender. His nose nudged against your cheek as he looked down at you, eyes softer now. "Did I hurt you at all?"

You shook your head, offering him a lazy, hazy smile. “Not even close. That was... incredible.”

He chuckled quietly, that low, affectionate sound that made your chest flutter more than anything else. “Yeah,” he whispered, brushing some damp hair away from your face, “you just about killed me.”

You laughed, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead — slow, deliberate, like it meant something more than the ones before it. It did.

After a moment, he leaned back just enough to reach for a throw blanket at the end of the lounger, draping it over both of you with surprising care. You curled into his side instinctively, your leg tangling with his, hand resting against his chest — right over the heartbeat that hadn’t yet settled down.

“We gotta be up in, like… four hours,” he muttered, his forehead thunking lightly against your shoulder. “Stark’s stupid yacht leaves at sunrise. Something about ‘golden hour content’ and 'champagne breakfast'."

You groaned too, your voice muffled into his chest. “Ugh. If he plays that ‘I’m on a Boat’ song one more time, I’m throwing myself overboard.”

Bucky snorted. “I’ll jump with you. We'll go down together like Jack and Rose.”

“I get the door this time.”

“Deal.”

A sleepy silence settled again, his hand absentmindedly brushing up and down your back. Then, just as your eyes started to drift shut, he whispered, a quiet grin in his voice, “Y’know… if someone told me a year ago I’d end up half-naked, wrapped around you like this, under the stars, after a Tony Stark pool party... I’d say they were full of shit.”

You smiled, eyes still closed, nuzzling into his warmth. “Yeah,” you murmured, “but I think I always hoped you would.”

And in the stillness of the night, with only your shared heartbeat and the far-off sound of waves crashing in the distance, Bucky held you a little tighter — as if, finally, he understood what it meant to be home.

[clairewritesfanfics]

Villain Creation System Chapter 1

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

Synopsis:

You died. Literally. The process itself was nothing special. The interesting part is what happened after. Instead of the abyss or paradise, a mysterious voice strikes up a deal with you in front of your fresh corpse.

[I am the Villain Creation System, if you want a second chance at life, then you must corrupt the souls of various Mark Graysons across the multiverse.] “Do I have a choice?” [Of course! Agree to our terms, or spend the rest of eternity alone and conscious of your own nonexistence, unable to move on to the next life and barred from what your ilk calls Heaven.] [ ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ] “...okay, sold.” [Yay!]

You successfully destroyed the lives of different versions of Mark Grayson, but when it's time to claim your prize, something goes wrong and you are stuck in this godforsaken timeline. What's worse was that they have found you.

"Come with me and we will rule the universe together." "Be my wife and bear my children. No harm will ever come to you." "After you died, no one could compare to you, not even your own corpse."

You: (•_•)

General Trigger Warnings: you are literally dead, death in general, dark humor (e.g. necrophilia jokes), innuendos, mild swearing, mentions of violence and bodily harm, toxic relationships, the Marks are their own warning

The problem began when you died. 

You didn’t save a kid from a speeding truck or get murdered, no, you died just as you lived: in a remarkably boring, somewhat embarrassing fashion. You fell down the stairs.

In your defence, you just finished a brutal exam and your Red Bull:Coffee cocktail could only do so much for a brain running on 2 hours of sleep. Your eyelids were barely holding on. You didn’t see the “wet floor” sign, slipped and cracked your head on the bottom steps of the stairs. 

On the bright side, you didn’t have to study anymore. On the other hand, you were young, barely half a century old, you had a bucket list that reached the triple digits but you only got to cross out five things. You didn’t get your dream job. You didn’t even purchase your own house yet, never painted and decorated it the way you wanted. You haven’t said your goodbyes. You haven’t experienced love, real, actual, can’t-live-without love.

It wasn’t fair. You always knew that life was unfair, but it was only when you died did it really hit you. You wanted so much more. 

You stared at your corpse, with its elbows and knees twisting into awkward positions, growing colder and stiffer by the second. 

Life wasn’t fair, you knew this. But it wasn’t until you saw yourself at the bottom of the stairs did you realize that life was a bitch. 

Now, there was only one question left. Where do I go from here?

You weren’t an exceptionally good person, but you really hoped you weren't going to end up in Hell. 

Before you could fear for your eternal soul, a disembodied voice, as robotic as it was sweet, greeted you with all the cheer of a kindergarten teacher: [Congratulations on your death! You are the first person to be chosen by the Villain Creation System!]

“...”

[I can tell from that dumbfounded expression that you are confused. Please, let this system explain. Open up your ear holes because I will not repeat myself!]

The thing cleared its throat and a light screen hovered over your dead body, displaying a series of stick figure illustrations.

[As your ancestors have found out, most souls are moved to limbo after death, where they are judged.]

The stick figure in this ridiculous powerpoint presentation died, had its soul enter what seemed to be a judicial court, and was presented with two doors. 

[Depending on the verdict, the soul may reincarnate as another human or a different species, or if they’ve fulfilled all the requirements, they can enter Paradise.] 

A third door appeared between the existing two.

[In special cases, one soul out of 300 trillion is chosen to bind with systems such as I. You already know, but let me reintroduce myself, I am Villain Creation System No. 00001. You see, many fictional worlds are very much real and alive in their own pocket universes. It is a system’s job to ensure a safe and steady existence, preventing the collapse of each dimension.]

The third door moved towards you and you found yourself floating in what resembled the vacuum of space, surrounded by infinite light projections of the Milky Way. 

[Unlike your reality, these special worlds live closely to the void, because its creators–its writers tend to be finite creatures, mere mortals cosplaying as gods.]

One by one, each galaxy turned to dust and you were back at the bottom of the stairs, standing right next to your dead body.

“I think I’ve read about this before…” When you used to have a lot of free time, you would binge read Chinese web novels about protagonists who jumped from world to world, completing tasks and granting wishes, whether it be getting back at cheating husbands or avenging dead relatives. 

“I have several questions.”

[It would be odd if you didn’t.]

This thing sure could talk. “Why me?”

[You mortals truly do love that question.] The thing sighed, as though it was shaking its head at you that very moment. [There’s nothing special about you, if that’s what you’re thinking. We rolled a hypothetical die and got you.]

“ Okay.” Ow. It wasn’t like you believed in life having inherent meaning, but to be outright told by a supernatural creature that you weren’t special still stung.

You pushed the feelings of hurt aside and asked, “Why do you exist? What’s the point?”

[What a boring question. If I told you that “it is fate,” will that be enough? If I say that it is “merely for a petty god’s entertainment,” will you be satisfied? Please don’t bother yourself with such questions, you will only end up hurting your own head.]

“I feel like I’m being insulted.”

[Surely, you’re imagining it.]

You inhaled, more out of habit than anything else because your lungs were decorative now. You calmed yourself. You’d rather not piss off a mysterious entity that seemed happy with your death and had souls dancing at the palm of its nonexistent hands. “All right. What do I have to do?”

[It’s just as my name suggests, you will be sent to different so-called fictional worlds to help create the villains, after all, what’s a story without a great villain? That is a rhetorical question, by the way.]

“You make it sound so simple.” Creating villains, huh. You have watched enough cartoons, read enough books to know that there would be a lot of pain involved. 

[Ding. Allow me to add: your efforts will not go unrewarded; should you complete your tasks, the Almighty One will grant you a redo in your life. If you do everything perfectly, THEY might even give you special privileges.]

“Such as?”

[In addition to your rebirth, you could freely modify your appearance to your liking, or you may ask for knowledge unparalleled in your generation.]

You glanced down at your feet. The blood from your broken skull pooled around you as you weighed your options.

“Do I have a choice?”

[Of course! Agree to our terms, or spend the rest of eternity alone and conscious of your own nonexistence, unable to move on to the next life and barred from what your ilk calls Heaven.] 

[  ˶ˆᗜˆ˵  ]

“...okay, sold.”

[Yay!]

A second chance at life. 

Divine boons, to boot.

It sounded way too good to be true. If anything, rather than speaking with an agent of God (or God’s equivalent) you felt like you were about to shake hands with the Devil.

You totally should have known better. 

The whole thing was fishy from beginning to end, but what else was there to do? Pray?

***

[Mark Grayson of Alternative Universe No. 444 has achieved 100% Darkening. A villain is born.]

[Congratulations on another successful corruption, Host!]

This version of Mark pulled you into his arms. Those who hurt you have become meat paste on the ground around him. 

He touched your cheek, begged you to stay with tears falling like rain on your lashes. It was too late. Often, he was too late. 

“Please,” he cried, holding your face. “Please come back to me.”

You couldn’t even if you wanted to. The system pulled on your soul like the tide returning to the sea. 

[Initiating extraction … ]

[Prepare for a meeting with the Main System. We will calculate your grade and remaining reward points then.]

Finally… You could go back home. You already knew what you were going to ask first, a memory wipe before your second chance. You used your reward points early on and bought a “system cheat” to help alleviate the guilt of everything you’ve done, along with something to diminish the weight of certain emotions, but these cheat codes couldn’t be transferred to your world, the real world.

[ERROR. ERROR.]

Pain shot through every nerve and cut through every vein of your soul. This has never happened before. You writhed in the void until–

Your eyes shot open.

You gasped and sat up. Your heart hammered in your chest and you struggled to regulate your breathing. 

You looked around you. A bedroom. Your bedroom. One of its many variations. 

“What’s going on?!” You demanded from your system. 

You were done. You had just finished your last mission, the final Mark Grayson had been converted, and the system promised that it would send you to speak with its boss and its boss’ boss. You were finally going to get your second chance, free yourself from this damned multiverse. 

However, when you opened your eyes after the extraction process, you could instantly tell that something was wrong.

For one thing, you have awoken in this same bedroom in at least three other parallel dimensions. The posters and pictures on the walls might’ve changed and the bed was next to the window instead of the door, but you knew that this was your room in the many worlds of Invincible.

You yelled at the air and in your mind, “Zero-One? Zero-One, where the hell are you? Hey!” 

No answer.

You fell forward and screamed into your mattress.

You should have prayed. 

CHAPTER 2

Author's note: As someone who still hasn't finished two other works about world-hopping, I feel a bit ashamed (it's been over three years T.T) but YOU CANNOT STOP ME. Anyway, I shouldn't be doing this, but the hyperfixation gods have their claws deep in my shoulders and I can't study without publishing at least the first chapter. For those who have read my Origin series for the Mark Variants, you may or may not think of this as its direct sequel. I got a crappy memory so continuation would be hard to keep up with. But if you have any questions, feel free to message me. For those who read by my Obey Me fanfic, yeah, this system and the Secondary Character Grievance Delivery System are basically co-workers, lol.

[aomiiine]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

jujutsu kaisen w SAMURAI!TOJI FUSHIGURO. format. fic. warnings. fluff + hurt/comfort + nsfw. mdni. fem!reader. beating mention. spanking mention. pretty domestic and vanilla ngl. lots of praise(good girl, etc). a bit of dirty talk. fingering. endearments. wife!reader. toji in denial that he’s stupidly in love. summary. samurai!toji w his pretty wife + non-sorcerer au so he’s just miserable here

author’s note. gcbuiawbf got this idea out of nowhere. a bit inspired by hell’s paradise.

toji zenin. His birth name given by his parents along with all the responsibilities he never knew he was obliged to carry. If his soul while a fetus was informed that he was about to be born in a family where prowess reigned supreme and the right to be treated as a human had be fought for, perhaps he would have never wished to be born at all.

Against his will, he was birthed by his mother anyway, having to be scowled at and ostracised by his own clan which was said to be family. Growing up as a child, he learned what he had wasn’t family by the sight he was greeted with when he went out to the capital—children his age, running around with colourful toys in hand instead of a sword. And most importantly, they laughed. Smiled even.

It was something so mundane—a smile—yet something so foreign to him. The only smile he knew of at that age was the smile his relatives had when they kicked him on the ground, using the wooden sword he was given to train to hit him instead. The only smile he knew, was one full of sadism.

The older he got, the stronger he became, the more he realised he was slowly starting to pick up that same trait from them.

Very so often, he’d accept challenges from his peers or outsiders that wanted to humiliate him and his skills, looking down at him despite his bloodline of the Zenin clan.

He’d unsheathe his the katana he had resting on his hip, lazily taking stance and staring the arrogant man dead in the eyes with his own void eyes.

Such duels would end with the same outcome—toji having them laid on the ground, the sharp edge of his long katana dangerously close to the opponent’s neck. Sometimes—just sometimes, he’d smile. Just sometimes, he’d unintentionally make a thin cut to the neck just enough to draw blood.

He would be lying if he said the view from above wasn’t satisfying, the feeling of finally being the one looking down on someone as pathetic as the ones that humiliated him for years. The sneer he’d make with his lifeless eyes under the thin shadow that masked his face from his muscular and tall physique would make anyone think their life was about to be taken in a blink of an eye. But he wouldn’t. Toji would spare himself the trouble of having to face his elders for making a scene out of nothing.

Toji’s lived at the isolated quarters of the zenin estate for years—and that wasn’t about to change. It was where his mother birthed him and died—and so it would be where he would live and die.

The very least he would expect or care about was having a wife to continue his bloodline despite his progressing age. He knew better than to be greedy and trap a lady to the hell he lived in. Besides, he had absolutely no intentions of taking the ladies he’d frequently meet at the brothels out in town as his lover, let alone as his wife.

So the news of the elders arranging him a wife from another samurai clan shocked him. It was early morning when he was informed of such news, he had almost spat out his sake. The only thing he could utter in response was a loud, deep, huh?

Toji finally met you face to face after hearing your name being repeated by his elders when he had a meeting with them. Your family name rang a bell, though he never thought much of them since they weren’t politically involved in anything other than war.

He’s sat beside you, his hair slightly better groomed and yukata straightened compared to the sloppy way he wore it before. Making an effort in his appearance was the least he could do—since he was convinced he wouldn’t bother changing a thing about himself just for your sake.

“Your wedding ceremony will be held five days from now. End of discussion,” one of his elders concluded, the leader of your clan bearing witness and agreeing. Toji merely stared head on to his peers, moving a hand to lift his cup of sake and chugging it down without a hint of respect.

After a few more minutes of discussing the details about the ceremony, he finally turned his head to look at you—his future wife. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, your figure considerably insignificant to his. From what he thought would be an average woman being wed to him, his eyes lingered on you quite some while before he glanced elsewhere, his expression unreadable still.

You two parted ways for the day and he returned to his quarters, cup of sake in hand and his arm rested on the knee of his leg that propped up while sitting on the floor, his other leg bent towards himself. Toji stared out the courtyard of the estate, trying to peel the image of you out of his head. He internally cursed himself and his elders for suddenly arranging a wife for him just because they didn’t want their reputation to be tarnished by having an unmarried man. What was he supposed to do with a woman he’s never met before anyway? Regardless, he refused to be like the men within the zenin clan that lacked sympathy towards women and children.

The wedding ceremony was brief but complete. He was the best dressed he ever was in years, with you by his side. Just some family member from your families and a brief dinner, and the ceremony was complete. You didn’t seem to say a word about it either. Deep down he wondered if you loathed him, or your parents, for setting you up the low life of the zenin clan instead of his cousins. He would never know, he didn’t want to anyway. Ignorance was bliss, he thought.

You were lead back to his quarters after the ceremony ended, the sight of the somewhat empty and undecorated room not giving you much of a shocking reaction as he had hoped. Toji didn’t know what exactly he hoped, maybe a look of horror, sorrow, or pity. Yet he looked at you only to see you nod and acknowledge him, your expression remaining calm as if saying ‘I can work with this’.

Your first night together was mostly silent, perhaps a bit awkward whenever he tried offering you a blanket and separate futon to sleep in. While you thought that he didn’t like you, he was worried (albeit in denial) that you’d be uncomfortable sleeping with him.

To his and your surprise, you ended up having a brief yet meaningful talk that same night while you were both in your respective futons, about to sleep. He liked that you didn’t have expectations, understanding of his situation and yours now that you’re his legal wife. Maybe you weren’t so bad.

Months had passed since your wedding. And he’s become increasingly close to you—he’s fond of you, is what he would say in his own words. Though in the eyes of servants, others that weren’t blind, could see just how infatuated he was with you.

With how he’s stopped going to the brothel he so frequents in the capital, with how he’s become more hostile to those who insult you, it was quite clear how he cared for you, at least. Though what they didn’t know was how flirty he is with you behind closed doors, how he it was simply impossible for him to keep his hands to himself whenever he was in close proximity with you. He was insatiable. Not that you’d tell that to anyone. Unless you wanted a good spanking in the privacy of your quarters.

“What’d I tell you about gossiping with the maids, hm?” He’d murmur against the skin of your neck from behind you, his hard body pressing up against your soft one. His hands were all over you, the curve of your hip and the soft flesh of your breast that he had cupped over your loosening kimono, his calloused fingers circling your nipple making you shiver and squirm.

“I wasn’t gossiping, you fool,” you mumbled, your breath shaky and your body writhing in vain attempts to rid yourself of his touch.

“Then what were you doing? Bragging? Complaining?” You heard from the shell of your ear, his hot breath fanning your skin and the sound of his breathy laugh making you groan in frustration in embarrassment.

“Neither,” you huffed, settling yourself down on the futon with his arm under you still, holding you close to him.

“Liar,” he quickly refuted, his lips grazing the skin behind your ear and slipping his hand under your robe, searching to cup one of your tits and fondling it the second he captured it. His other hand moved down to your thighs, hooking his fingers under the slit of your robe and pulling it away to reveal your bare thighs, and exposing a hint of your dampening heat.

“There’s my beauty,” he whispered, his eyes flickering down your body from your shoulder to see the present he unwrapped for himself, your pretty cunt. He’s reminded you so many unneeded times before that he owned it, you. His calloused fingers slid to the apex of your legs, parting your puffy folds since your legs remained insistent on keep closed.

“Toji—” you started only to quickly be silenced with a deliberate stroke of his finger up your slit, the pad of said finger resting on your clit. The sudden touch made your lips part to exhale a shaky moan, your eyes looking down between your legs to see the movement of his hand.

“Yeah? Need something, sweetheart?” He hummed by your shoulder, burying his face into the crook of your neck to feast on your skin. While his teeth nibbled and marked you up, his finger on your clit began rubbing deliberate circles, feeling you up until he felt it twitching against the pad of his digit. Before you knew it, he had parted your folds further, slipping his thick middle fingers into your entrance, revelling in the way it made you squirm against him, your ass rubbing against his hip. You could only answer him with pathetic mewls that were only music to his ears, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be giving you much time to catch your breath to utter coherent words.

“Thought so, baby,” he scoffed triumphantly at your soft moans, his fingers curling inside you as he thrusted it in and out of your slowly, making sure to leave brief harsh kisses on your g-spot to keep you wanting, to keep you clenching around his digit in need but not enough to make you cum.

“You’re so tight around my finger, darling, can’t imagine how much tighter you’d get when I have my cock buried inside you. Think you’d like that? Feelin’ stuffed?” Was what he kept on whispering to you while he bottomed his finger in and out of you at a steady pace, making sure you’re feeling it as much as he was—and fuck was he feeling it. Even if he had you drunk on his finger, you weren’t exactly oblivious to prodding of his cock on your lower back. You just didn’t have the capacity to focus on it, not when he was turning you on with the mere thought and descriptions of him fucking you.

Toji felt you beginning to spams around him, your voice getting more and more high-pitched and whiny along with your nipples hardened to peaks between his cruel fingers. Signs of you being close to cumming was everywhere and he noticed them all, though he led you on to brink just to pull away when you needed him most.

“Yeah, not on my finger baby. You know where I want you most—where I want you best,” he grinned, his voice gravelly and hoarse as his breath brushed against your already warm skin.

Toji slid his finger out of you with slowly, savouring the way your juices coated him. The mere sight of his slick finger assured him that you were ready for—so fuckin’ ready.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, his free hand now slipping under your thigh, lifting your leg up to forcefully part your legs knowing you’d cramp yourself while trying to keep it up for him. “Yeah, ‘m here,” he assured from behind you when he finally took notice how you kept calling out his name, your voice all whiny and shaky in desperation. He positioned himself from behind you, shifting his hips and snuggling closer to you to lose whatever distance you still had left between each other.

“Feel that? ‘M all hard and ready for you, baby. Just like how ready you are for me,” he cooed, tugging on his own yukata to free his raging hard on, letting the thick girth slick with precum prod your ass, earning a needy whimper from you. He couldn’t help but stare at your side profile, taking in the sight of his wife making such expressions you’d never make for anyone but him.

His arm under your body curled your body suffocating close to him, making sure you could feel his chest against your back and his chin buried on the top of your head, alternating the choice of preying on the skin of your neck or ear.

After a moment of teasing, he finally slid his cock over to your wet folds, letting the tip mingle his precum with your slick juices before he pushed upwards, slowly penetrating your entrance that fluttered around him already, making it hard for him to go further.

“Fuck, princess—you gotta relax. I know you can take me in like a good girl,” he groaned, his jaw clenching at the feeling your soft flesh against his tip before you finally relax, letting him push further into you. He kept on uttering filthy encouragements by your ear while he made you take him in inch by inch until the hilt, his head tilting to kiss down your neck. He stayed still for a moment to let you adjust to his size, not letting that moment go on for too long until he started bottoming in and out of you with you slow, deliberate thrusts, your leg trembling in his hand.

“All mine—this tight cunt’s all mine.” The foul words that reached your ears would have normally had you recoiling in disgust but now, knowing those words came from him, it only made you moan shamelessly in his arms, your insides churning with pleasure and need to chase that high that he so often gave you. His need for you was palpable, almost equivalent to yours with how his hand kept alternating between your tits while he fucked you, his pace quickening now that the knot in his loins was tightening.

Your shared bedroom room was filled with nothing was the scent of your arousals, the lewd squelching sounds of his thrusts into you and loud shared moans. Toji’s hips didn’t stop for even a moment to let any of you rest, not when he was so close, you were so close. His grip on your breast tightened along with his grasp that help your thigh up, his hips bucking into your until he felt his balls tighten, his cock eventually spurting ropes of his thick semen into your canal, his movements jerky until he stopped. He nestled his cock into you until the hilt, unloading himself and letting you clench all around him.

He savoured the feeling with heavy pants, deep growls on satisfaction leaving him when he realised you came with him. Toji kept himself inside you for a while, not showing any signs of pulling out as you both basked in the afterglow.

He’d finally lower your leg down, humping against you lazily now that you’ve both came down from your high. Toji cradle you close to him, his hand slipping out of your robe to move his hand to your stomach instead, his face buried in your hair as he inhaled your natural scent and the musk of your mixed fluids that had began to ooze out you.

“Think you’d be up for another round after this, darling?” His low voice breathless voice met your ears, earning himself an annoyed frown which he merely chuckle at in response.

[xiepheer]

you know i have a ideia here so what If Y/N was dating any of the elemental guardians and let them meet their future father/mother-in-law but Y/N being the child of Beast's is one thing that their partner didn't know about :)

Now i have some pairs here that would make kinda sense in the story

Shadow milk cookie and wind archer cookie

Mystic flour cookie and frost queen cookie

Burning spice cookie and fire spirit cookie

Eternal sugar cookie and moonlight cookie

Silent salt cookie and sea fairy cookie

Good luck my friend >:)

Meeting

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Heh... Guess who returned and raised from the dead...

ITS ME YES 😻

I lost motives to write I am DEEPLY sorry 😭

I guess I'm feeling a lil motivated today idk why but...

ENJOY 🫶

Scenario: legendary cookies dating the reader and meeting their parents (Which are the beasts!)

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Shadow Milk cookie

Reader's Lover: Wind Archer cookie

Wind Archer cookie, the resemblance of wind itself had great beef with your father which you didn't know.

You didn't know means that you thought it'd be a great idea to let them both meet.

"Come one dad! I promise it'll be a great surprise!"

You exclaimed.

Your father was quite busy at the moment but you insisted because it's work that can be paused for a while.

Plus you've already brought Wind Archer cookie along.

So your father had no choice but to agree.

When they met, confusion, rage, and defense immediately flared up.

Your father, Shadow Milk Cookie didn't become defensive too much unlike Wind Archer cookie.

Wind Archer was clutching his bow and arrow tightly, ready to shoot.

Immediately you quickly ran in between them to stop further more fights.

They were confused.

Especially Wind Archer Cookie.

He was so ready to blow off the beasts head off.

Though that wasn't possible because Shadow Milk is quite literally immortal with his soul jam.

Once you explained that you meant to let them meet, Wind Archer just glared at Shadow Milk.

For of course becoming a soon to be son in law.

Teasing him that he would have to call the beast that caused tons of chaos around the world "Father".

As if he would.

Eventually, they both agreed to not hurt each other

Only because YOU said so.

Wind Archer cookie wouldn't hesitate to shoot him arrows if only your father wasn't him.

Though Shadow Milk cookie didn't really want to fight (or maybe he did. Who knows? He's the cookie of Deceit) and only wanted to make fun and tease him.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Eternal Sugar cookie

Reader's Lover: Moonlight Cookie

The first thing you knew is that Moonlight cookie didn't seem to mind who your parents are.

All she wanted is for you to have a great life and sweet dreams.

Of course your mother, Eternal Sugar cookie didn't mind who you were dating too because all she cared about is making you happy.

Seems quite similar to each other right?

So one day, you decided that it's a great time to finally introduce your girlfriend to your mother.

"Ah mother! I finally found you! I brought my lover with me and hoping you'd want to meet her!"

You said.

Your mother, reveals herself by opening her angelic wings which formed some sort of cocoon around her when closed.

"Why of course! Anything to make you happy dear!"

Immediately, you brought in moonlight cookie and to your surprise, they actually get along.

They didn't try to fight or so.

Just chatting and your mother seems to be very fond of her almost immediately!

This is great.

One of their reasons to this is because they've very much similar to each other.

To how they both want to make cookies feel at peace by bringing them into a world full of paradise and beyond imagination.

Your mother's reasoning was because she wasn't fond of fights and doesn't want to cause one and destroy the garden.

Plus she wouldn't really wanna mess with a celestial guardian.

She knows her place when it comes to celestial beings but of course wouldn't want cookies leave her paradise.

Celestial beings like Moonlight cookie are the only exception in her world of paradise.

So pretty much they'd get along.

Just not getting along with the fact that one causes destruction.

But on the other hand, you were glad that they get along fine and well so that means your relationship is fine.

(A/N: I skipped ep. 9 dialogues but watched some of them with Eternal Sugar's dialogues! But I'm not sure if this accurate or not! :))

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Burning Spice cookie

Reader's Lover: Fire Spirit cookie

For Burning Spice, he is okay with anyone who can fight and spark away his boredom.

So that means, he doesn't care who your partner is. As long as they're strong enough to fight him, he's all goods.

Meanwhile, Fire Spirit cookie doesn't like fights much but does fight every now and then.

Fighting evil of course like the other legendary and elemental guardians.

Fire Spirit also loves to boast very much like your father but is far from being like your father.

No. He's actually gentle and careful with you.

And one day, you decided it's time for Fire Spirit to meet your father.

"Father! There is someone I think you'd like to meet!"

You exclaimed.

That immediately shot burning spice for his throne with an interested look.

He was waiting for you to speak up.

Was it a new fighter?

Was one gonna fight him to prove his love for you?

He needed you to spill it out NOW.

You immediately dragged in Fire Spirit in.

When you introduced your father to Fire Spirit, Burning Spice immediately took the chance to lunge at the cookie and start swaying.

That took you and your liver by surprise so in instinct, you tried to stop them but Fire Spirit fought back.

Burning Spice was surprised at how powerful this cookie is.

Not knowing he was actually the representation of fire.

Eventually, you managed to stop them from fighting and your father let out a laugh of satisfaction.

No one had taken him since Golden Cheese cookie did.

So immediately, Fire Spirit got accepted.

But of course, in one condition. Fire Spirit will have to fight him from time to time.

And Fire Spirit has to agree because he does leave you. He doesn't want to leave you and ignore his feelings just because he was offered to fight.

And it wasn't even everyday. Might be a few every month.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Mystic Flour cookie

Reader's Lover: Frost Queen cookie

First things first, your mother, Mystic Flour cookie supports whoever your lover is.

She doesn't care if it's a female or male.

As long as you're happy and okay with life, she is as well.

Frost Queen cookie also have the same thoughts.

Whoever your parent is, she doesn't care. As long as you are happy with her and your parent.

So one day, you decided it was a good idea for them to meet since they both have the same demeanor.

"Dear mother, there is a special someone I'd like you to meet."

You said as your mother opened her eyes from her slumber.

Your mother, seems like she doesn't want to leave her cocoon but it is her job to make you happy.

"Bring whoever that is in child."

Her voice rang and echoed in the empty and dark halls of her palace.

When you pulled in Frost Queen cookie, your mother examined her first before stating that she is your lover.

Her and your mother didn't do much except stare.

You broke the silence by asking how your dear lover is and if she's accepted.

Of course her answer was the honest answer.

"I see she has power beyond mine. I shall respect that. Therefore, I shall support you not only because of her power, but for your happiness as well."

And that made you happy.

You didn't know that she would accept Frost Queen immediately.

Though Frost Queen and her seemed to bond very well.

As mother and daughter in law of course.

You, Frost Queen and Mystic Flour cookie would take tea at mornings.

You chatted, they listened.

Though Frost Queen didn't like the beasts for doing such cruelty to the world but for now, she observed that Mystic Flour seems to be harmless for now as she is healing through her last encounter with Dark Cacao.

Your mother did tell Frost Queen to never hurt you which of course, Frost Queen herself knew that she wouldn't do so in the first place.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

HELLOOOO CHATTT!!!

YEAH I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHIGN AFTER LEAVING YALL FOR DAYS AND WEEKS!

I'm so sorry 😭 🙏

Anyways I hope yall liked this one!

Also yall, What do yall think about Longan Dragon cookie?

They're my main hyperfixating at the moment!

Anyways bye! 🫶