#social discontent

[djkerr]

TGF 01x06 Social Media and Its Discontents

[saturdaynightghostclub]

Literally do not even mind me, just yelling at clouds, but I’m not playing when I say I actually need everyone on the bookish internet to read at least one essay, short story, novel, etc by Ursula K. Le Guin before you complain about how there’s no good fantasy or science fiction these days.

She will ruin your life and your ability to consume genre fiction without seriously interrogating its motives, but I can guarantee you she will put a name to the thing that’s been bothering you and you will finally know why you’re having a hard time with contemporary fantasy.

[jrueships]

' smile for the camera everyone 😁!!'

Jabari: i shall not .

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

You know as much as I hate Flynn Fenton it would have been interesting if the backstory Hartman proposed in that lame video was true, and he did exist in the canon timeline. Just because of how the math works out and how it would have affected the show’s story.

Because if he did exist in canon, we the viewers and Danny would have encountered, met, and learned about what happened to Flynn without anyone ever mentioning him, or Danny even encountering him in the Ghost Zone as Exodus*.

*Which is another dumb thing I hate and I’m getting rid of. No Exodus only Flynn.

The thing is that Flynn is 8 years older than Danny. Danny got his powers at age 14, which is the same year as his parents and Vlad’s 20 year collage reunion. Flynn would have been 22 at the time Danny got his powers.

Meaning he would have been alive, well, and 2 years old at the point of the proto-portal accident that turned Vlad half-ghost.

Implying one thing:

Flynn is biologically just Maddie’s kid, from a previous relationship back in her hometown, where Flynn is staying with her family while she goes to collage. [Flynn’s green eyes, the fact that he’s nowhere to be seen at the collage.] She meets both Vlad and Jack at the same time and become friends, and she and Jack eventually start dating and get married after collage, and Jack adopts Flynn as a Fenton.

Vlad and Jack were roommates, and Jack is the kind of man to never shut up about his kids in canon unless he’s ranting about ghosts. So if Flynn was Jack’s kid by blood, Vlad would have known about him, and Jack’s relationship with Maddie with in an hour of knowing him.

I also don’t think Jack and Vlad would have been roommates if Jack was already with Maddie in some kind of capacity before collage. So Jack can’t be Flynn’s biological father.

So if Flynn existed in canon, we and Danny would be introduced to Flynn, even if indirectly, in the episode Masters of All Time. Where Danny goes back in time to change the proto-portal accident, and stop Vlad from becoming a Halfa, leading to Jack becoming a Halfa instead, and Vlad and Maddie end up married.

Remember Flynn would already exist and be 2 years old by the time of the proto-portal accident, irregardless of the accident itself and who ends up half dead in the aftermath of it. So in a timeline where Jack ends up as Jack Plasmius and Maddie ends up as Maddie Masters, Flynn is still in the picture irregardless.

Danny would have at the very least encountered pictures of a redheaded green eyed boy, teen, and eventual adult scattered through out Vlad’s castle. He would have heard about Flynn going off to collage, about Vlad adopting Flynn as Flynn Masters after he and Maddie married.

About Flynn being born from before his mom met Jack or Vlad, meaning he would be his (Danny) and Jazz’s older half brother. Who Danny had no idea even existed for some reason.

Heck, Flynn could have very well been home visiting, or live at home with Maddie and Vlad. Or Vlad or Maddie could have called him back home after a strange young boy showed up on their doorstep calling Maddie mom.

Danny could have physically met Flynn, could have even found himself enjoying his company. Finding things in common with this strange older boy, who was supposed to be in his life, but isn’t for some reason. Things that Flynn did that reminded Danny of himself, reminded him of Jazz.

Maybe it’s Flynn who believes Danny when he says he comes from a parallel timeline, and he accepts this nervous kid as his baby brother. Maybe it’s not Maddie or Jack who tell Danny he has to fix the timeline back to how it used to be, it’s Flynn.

Because how could Maddie ask this boy she barely knows, even if he is her son from another timeline, to change the timeline. From one where she knows that her first born son, the only child she’d gotten to have in this life, is safe and healthy, and if not happy is at least alive. And change it to one where no one knows what happened to him, and she’s gone so far as to hide his very existence from her youngest son.

Even if she’s somehow, in spite of the loss of her oldest son deliriously happy and in love with her husband, doing what she loves. Even if she has a daughter she wants to meet, and a younger son she wants to get to know.

How could she trade the life of the child she’d loved and raised for 22 years, for a boy she barely knows, and the concept of a daughter? No matter how angry she is at Vlad for lying to her and manipulating her into staying with him for years, or how much of a missed opportunity everything with Jack feels like, she can’t bring herself to ask this strange boy who is also somehow her son to change anything at all.

Flynn who’s 22 years old and lived a life full of secrets and subterfuge looks this 14 year old kid in the face, who’s so obviously used to hiding things from everyone around him. And he says, “You do what you have to do to get things back to how they’re meant to be. Don’t worry about me Kid I’ll be fine, no matter what happens. You worry about yourself, and Jazz, and your friends. In that order, alright. Trust that I can handle myself, and we’ll find each other, alright.”

[”You shouldn’t tell Daddy about Mommy’s hobby Sweetie, he won’t like it. And well I’m not hurting anyone now am I?” as his mother toiled away for hours in a secret room he’d been asked to lie to his father about existing.

“Well Champ sometimes we have to keep things from the ones we love to protect them,” as his new (at the time) father burned the letters from an old collage friend named Fenton asking if he could meet up with his parents and talk.]

And when Danny, frantic, asks, “But what if we don’t? What if I never find you!?”

The red haired man smiles, shrugs and bitterly says, “Then that’s just how it’s meant to be. If you had to change the entire timeline for me to be here, then chances are I’m not where I’m supposed to be anymore than you are right now.”

So Danny does go back to the proto-portal incident, and makes sure Vlad Masters is the one hit by the portal. He learns the cause of ecto-acne and goes back to his original timeline. With the ecto-acne situation resolved Danny has something else he has to focus on.

What happened to Flynn, and how exactly was he going to find him and bring him home?

[I also like to imagine that Danny has a picture with the Flynn Masters version of Flynn. Something he shows Jazz when he inevitably confronts her about the whole “Older brother no one in the family thought I should know about” confrontation that would obviously happen at some point.

Danny can’t exactly confront their parents about Flynn, they have information on him locked down tighter than anything else in their life, and Danny didn’t even have a hint of Flynn’s existence before crossing into another timeline.

So trying to learn more about Flynn and possibly how he disappeared falls to Jazz in this case.]

[georgefairbrother]

On the 22nd of January, 1979, life for the already beleaguered Callaghan government got a whole lot worse as tens of thousands of public sector workers joined crippling national strike action as part of the Winter of Discontent. Four major public service unions were incensed over the government’s policy of attempting to impose a ceiling on pay rises at 5%, as a means of inflation control, while workers at the privately owned Ford plant at Dagenham had recently negotiated a 17% rise. Ford had openly defied the government’s wage-restraint policy, despite the fact that the government was one of Ford’s major clients.

The public service unions represented a total of 1.5 million members, and argued that their members' pay, particularly for manual workers, was falling well behind private enterprise. They called for a minimum wage of 60 pounds and a 35 hour week.

The previous autumn, Labour Prime Minister Jim Callaghan had made the fateful decision not to call an early election, despite his minority government’s tenuous grip on power, stating, "The government must and will continue to carry out policies that are consistent, determined, that don’t chop or change and that brought about the present recovery in our fortunes…We can see the way ahead."

Opposition leader Margaret Thatcher was not best pleased, referring to the government as ‘chickens’ and stating, “The real reason he isn’t having an election is because he thinks he’ll lose."

Even Liberal leader David Steel, whose party had propped up the minority government through the Lib-Lab Pact, wasn’t happy, stating that the country was due for change and that an election was the only way to breath life into the four-year-old parliament.

As winter closed in, a nationwide transport strike created shortages of many essential commodities. NHS hospitals, ambulance services, rubbish collection, schools and even funeral and burial services were caught up in stoppages that created nationwide chaos. At one point 200 000 workers were temporarily laid off, and rubbish piled high in the streets.

Into this chaotic atmosphere returned Prime Minister Callaghan from a summit with US President Carter, French president Valery Giscard d’Estaing and the West German Chancellor Helmut Schmidt.

The meeting had been held in the sunny Caribbean Island of Guadeloupe. Callaghan, looking 'relaxed and unconcerned' according to reports, said, "I don’t think that other people in the world would share the view that there is mounting chaos.”

He was rewarded by a famous headline in The Sun;

By the end of January, 1979, the strike ended with employers conceding to almost all of the various unions’ demands.

Opposition Leader Margaret Thatcher soon seized a golden opportunity to take command of the agenda. She introduced a motion of no confidence against the Government on March 28th, which passed by one vote, the first such successful motion since 1924. Jim Callaghan had no option but to go the country and an election was finally called, paving the way for 18 years of Tory government.

Following the inevitable election loss, Jim Callaghan stayed on as Opposition Leader until 1980 when he was succeeded by Michael Foot. He subsequently served in the Lords as Baron Callaghan of Cardiff and passed away in 2005, aged 92.

[sovonight]

well, anomen has been knighted, and i'm left insulted that he never attempted to begin his romance even though i would've had to shut it down for xan anyway 😞

[theadaptableeducator]

Repressed Desires: The Unraveling Tapestry of Colonialism, Nationalism, Imperialism, and Capitalism

Sigmund Freud, although primarily known for his contributions to psychoanalysis, offered several insights that can be applied to understanding the interconnectivity and unsustainability of colonialism, nationalism, imperialism, and capitalism. By examining his theories on human behaviour, desire, and societal structures, we can construct an argument that highlights the complex interplay and…

[impulsivelycontentious]

I wish I could find it again and see if it was methodologically sound, but i've never been able to uncover this case study which found a region that went from having no advertisements and no televisions to having both in a single generation and saw a MASSIVE rise in thefts and general malcontent.

I think about that sometimes.

I know we can notice it a lot - advertising exists to make us discontent with our lives. Advertisers themselves have said so, historically. They want to create customers and to do that they need to put ideas in our heads and they DO.

It's not great. It does make us malcontent and wanting more things. It does mold our society in small and less small ways - hairless women in the modern era are a result of an advertising campaign, as is "the cost an engagement ring is supposed to be". People don't even KNOW that came from advertising campaigns. The ide hairlessness is hygenic comes from advertising.

(you do you, but as a PSA, it actually spreads bacteria and makes you more likely to get an infection not less; I literally do not care what you do and I don't think it's my business or a moral matter. We're just talking about advertising and it's impact that's all, and one of the things it dis was convince people body hair is unhygienic. On women).

This shit is found all over the world now, even outside of the original advertising scope.

It's insidious.

And because I happen to love in the USA, my cats, you BOTH have no idea how bad adds are in the USA. People outside the US: it's like living on one of those content mill news sites woth dozens of pop ups and scrolling ads. They are EVERYWHERE. They even have massive billboards all over the place poking out over every road. People in the USA: outside of the USA, in many countries, you can go miles without seeing advertising and not just on the highway. In cities and shit. Those massive billboards are not everywhere either.

When I was a kid, i went to school at a public school that served mostly kids who lived in council (government) housing. We were all poor. And yet the kids would bully kids they thought were wearing second hand clothing or couldn't afford label clothes. NONE of us could actually afford that! But advertising had created the perception that NOT buying the most uselessly expensive shit made you a social inferior - in 7 year olds.

It's. It's wild.

"advertising doesn't work" the increase in scentbird ads and people talking about a "personal signature scent" directly correlates with my family's interest in perfumes. Even if they're not using scentbird, something probably changed to make them want perfumes more, right?

[tomework]

This semester I’ll be reading “Caste: the origins of our discontents” by Isabel Wilkerson for one of my classes. As a future social worker I’ll be reading a lot of hefty and heavy texts like this. I have a lot of thoughts on the book but I haven’t yet finished it.

As I finish part three of the book I can’t help but see a lot of common themes with a book I had to read at the sam institution almost 10 years ago on my first go around. The book is brutally honest but borders on being a bit repetitive at times. I understand what I assume is the thought process behind the seemingly redundant examples found throughout the text and that is to reiterate and nail down just how pervasive caste has been, and currently still is, in our society in the United States.

None of this is news to me. I’ve learned most all of this through other classes, personal readings and research, and simply just exposure to culture but it is definitely a book I’ll be putting on my “recommend to others” list for those new to material like this. Easy to read and understand, clear and concise, makes the point known with plenty of evidence to back it up.

[biblebloodhound]

The Ways of Wisdom (Proverbs 30:18-33)

Everything and everyone can teach us, that is, if we will but put ourselves in a position to learn from them.

There are four things that are too mysterious for me to understand: an eagle flying in the sky,a snake moving on a rock,a ship finding its way over the sea,and a man and a woman falling in love. This is how an unfaithful wife acts: she commits adultery, takes a bath, and says, “But I haven’t done anything wrong!” There are four things that the earth itself cannot tolerate: a slave who becomes…

[djkerr]

TGF 01x06 Social Media and Its Discontents

Rose Leslie as Maia Rindell in The Good Fight ♦ Episode 6: Social Media and Its Discontents

[georgefairbrother]

On March 23rd, 1977, just one year into the premiership of James Callaghan, the governing Labour Party faced a vote of no confidence in the House of Commons.  The minority government only survived by virtue of an arrangement with the Liberal Party; the Lib-Lab Pact.

 According to BBC News;

 "…In return the Liberal Party will be able to scrutinise future government policies and contribute their own policy proposals as part of a joint consultation committee to be overseen by the Leader of the House Michael Foot…"

The BBC also reported that some senior members of Callaghan’s Cabinet had reservations.  In what was seen as a test of the Prime Minister’s leadership, wavering Cabinet colleagues were convinced to fall in behind the arrangement for the stability of the government. 

Unsurprisingly, Conservative Opposition Leader Margaret Thatcher was not a fan, stating;

 "…it showed clearly that this government is more concerned to cling to office than it is to seek the verdict of the people…They have concluded a shadowy deal with the Liberal MPs based on one single identity of interest - the common dread of facing a general election…"

The issue of election readiness, or lack of, was probably a fair point. The Liberal Party, now under the leadership of  David Steel, was in no position to face an election (in the context of the times), following the departure of previous Liberal leader Jeremy Thorpe in 1976, over publicised  issues surrounding his sexuality and personal life. (He would later be tried and acquitted for conspiracy and incitement to murder, with the judge highly critical of prosecution witnesses). Meanwhile, Labour would become an increasingly unpopular senior partner, with its failure to come to grips with with rising inflation, unemployment, and paralyzing industrial unrest.

The Lib-Lab pact expired in August 1978.  Rather than go to the country right away, Jim Callaghan decided to try and tough it out, but the destructive chaos of the nationwide Winter of Discontent strikes killed any chance of a political recovery.  In March of 1979, the government was more vulnerable than ever and Margaret Thatcher’s Tories steamed in once again. This time they had the numbers; their no confidence motion succeeded, and Labour was out of office within weeks.

[subtlybrilliant]

People who only get in contact/say they miss you when they need something 😒😒😒

[stripedwolf88]

On a not Taylor related note:

YOU GUYS SHOULD SEE ORIGIN IF YOU HAVE NOT ALREADY AND IF IT IS AVAILABLE TO YOU

This movie was beautiful and raw and just something so important that I think everyone needs to see. The injustices in the world go beyond just race or religion or something else. It is this concept of routine hatred that everyone needs to open their eyes to.

Please please please go see it if you can. Or buy the book that the movie is based on. It's called Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson. I haven't read it yet but that movie was so impactful, I'm sure the book is ten times as amazing.

[djkerr]

TGF 01x06 Social Media and Its Discontents

diane lockhart | social media and its discontents

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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