#thinks for thanking of me suz

[space-mouse]

"but the maps have to make sense. watersheds have to be shaped like watersheds. you know?"

sounds like it got you good huh (love this for you)

MAYHAPS.

[jen-with-a-pen]

𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦

summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

word count: 6.5K

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.

If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 

Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 

You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.

When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.

Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.

After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.

You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 

With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  

Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 

Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”

The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 

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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 

“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 

“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.

You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.

Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 

“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.

It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 

The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 

“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.

“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 

Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 

“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.

You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  

“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.

Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.

“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”

“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 

Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 

You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 

You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.

The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.

“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 

“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”

White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.

He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.

“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.

His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.

You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 

With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.

“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 

“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 

“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”

He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 

“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.

“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.

“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”

He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.

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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 

There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 

Your face burned.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 

He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.

♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.

You swallowed a groan. 

“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 

“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”

“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”

“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”

Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 

“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 

You wanted to take his finger and break it.  

You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.

You doubted it was convincing.

“Fine.” 

He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 

When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.

“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“When the hell did you–”

“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.

“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 

He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.

The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 

“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.

Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.

It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 

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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”

“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 

Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–

“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 

“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 

“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.

“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 

“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.

You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”

His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 

You swallowed. “You heard me.”

One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 

Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 

“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.

“Look at me!” 

“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 

With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.

You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.

“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 

His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”

You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 

“Is that all, Sergeant?” 

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.

“You heard me.” 

The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 

“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.

“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”

Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.

“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 

And you let him.

“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.

“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 

Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 

He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart stopped.

“You’re telling me.”

Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 

Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 

Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.

Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 

He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 

You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”

“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.

“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 

“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.

“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”

He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”

“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”

“Number fuckin’ one.”

The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 

Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.

“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.

He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 

“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 

SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”

SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”

SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 

Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 

“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 

“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 

“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 

He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 

“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 

“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”

“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.

For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 

“Thanks.”

He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”

You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”

“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.

“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”

“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.

[jobean12-blog]

Nestled

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (A/B/O AU)

Word Count: 1,245

Summary: Joel's been away taking care of things and when he returns it's impossible to hide how much you've missed him.

Author's Note: This is my first ever A/B/O fic and it's for my lovely friend Suz's @targaryenvampireslayer Blind Date Writing Challenge! The trope I got was A/B/O and my dialogue prompt is bolded in the story! I want to give special thanks to my sweet friend Eva @biteofcherry for looking this over for me and helping me navigate this universe. She has the most amazing A/B/O AU with Ari that you can read HERE! Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the awesome @firefly-in-darkness thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: lots of soft sweet fluffiness, alpha!Joel has a dominant edge but he's soft and sexy for his omgea, finger-ing, ora-l (f rec)

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The softness of his shirt feels perfect against your sensitive skin and as you cuddle the fabric you fall deeper into the cocoon of his scent, surrounded by the warmth of your blankets and pillows.

The dainty string of fairy lights glows softly against the backdrop of darkness that filters in through the large windows but even with their light the stars in the sky shine more brightly, twinkling like diamonds.

You sigh and fight the heavy feel of your eyelids as they press closed. He should be home soon and you want to be awake. Want to see him. Want to feel him. You need him.

With the last lingering thoughts of his touch your breathing starts to even out but just before you succumb to sleep your body starts to thrum with awareness and you know he’s back.

You sit up and stretch just as he appears in the doorway, filling the space with his broad shoulders.

“Joel,” you whisper.

He walks toward you with even and purposeful steps, stopping just outside your nesting space. He smiles with admiration and love at what you’ve created and when his eyes meet yours you see it there and it fills your heart up.

“Darlin’,” he coos before he bends down and climbs in next to you, taking note of his shirt draped over your otherwise bare skin with a pleased hum.

You curl into his embrace and purr as he nuzzles your neck and inhales your scent. He rubs his nose along your jaw, following with butterfly kisses until he finds your lips and seals them with his.

When he pulls away your eyes are still closed and your lips are curved into a satisfied smile.

“Look at me darlin’.”

Your eyelids slowly flutter open and meet his gaze.

“Have you been takin’ care of yourself while I was gone?”

You nod. “Mm hm. Just like you told me.”

He gives you an approving smile and cradles your cheek in one large hand, brushing his thumb gently across your skin.

“That’s my good girl.”

You preen under his praise, your skin heating and tingles running down your spine.

He cradles you against his chest as his hands slide over your curves and his fingers slip under the hem of his shirt.

You burrow to him, kissing his neck and loving the feel of the scruffy hair lining his skin and humming as his scent envelopes you in a feeling of safety and love. With your head resting against his shoulder you look up into the night sky and follow the path of a shooting star.

“They’re so beautiful,” you whisper.

“Hm?” he murmurs and you turn your face to his. He’s staring. At you.

“The stars…they’re beautiful.”

His eyes never move from your face.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he says quietly.

“I missed you Joel.”

His fingertips graze the soft skin of your stomach before sliding lower and teasing your thigh.

Your arousal spikes the air and he growls low and deep.

“I know,” he groans as your sweet scent wafts up to his nose.

He pushes you down until you’re spread out beneath him and with gentle hands he lifts his shirt up and off your body.

“I can’t wait to devour you my sweet omega. It’s all I could think about.”   

His dark eyes fall to your knees and he wedges his hand between them to spread you open. The heat of his skin matches yours as he skims his calloused fingers down the curve of your leg and his warm breath caresses your cheek.

“Mm…,” he hums. “Smell so good darlin.’ Sweet as sugar.”

Those long fingers move lower and brush through the slickness between your thighs. You shiver and squirm even at the lightest touch, clutching his thick wrist and urging him closer. When his lips ghost along the shell of your ear you whimper his name and arch your back, letting your legs fall open wider.

“You seem more sensitive than usual,” he murmurs, relishing the way you come alive beneath him.

“Missed you so much alpha. Need you. Please.”

His scent fills the space, strong and musky like the woods after a rain and you feel it everywhere. You thread your fingers through his dark curls as he rubs your noses together.

Your hands fumble to find the buttons of his shirt as you slide them along his chest but when his eyes meet yours you stop and heed the silent warning they hold.

“I’m going to give you what you need darlin.’ Everythin’ you need.”

Soft lips press to your neck, following the delicate curve before sweeping across your shoulder and leaving goosebumps all along your kissed skin.

His touch between your legs is still soft and teasing, making you shake with want.

“Please,” you beg.

A satisfied hum rumbles through his chest as he slips a single thick finger inside you, pumping it slowly in and out. Every stroke brings you closer to the edge and when your lips part and you plead for more he adds a second finger, stretching you just right.

“You’re dripping for me darlin’,” he growls. “I need to taste you.”

He moves lower and splays his free hand on your lower belly, pinning you down. The first sweep of his tongue is all it takes to have you choking on the scream in your throat.

Every lick and suck is deliberately torturous, sweet and languid, drawing out your bliss.

You chant his name and his silky hair slips through your fingers, gasping as the sensations become too much and you shatter apart.

He waits for your breathing to calm with tender kisses and soft licks then his hands move higher, his lips following until he’s cradling you protectively in his arms and whispering sweet praises in your ear.

You tilt your head back, stretching your throat out for the delicate nip of his teeth. He holds you down beneath him, your fingernails dancing over his taut skin as his muscles flex with his barely controlled restraint.

His nose skims along your skin then his lips soothe the spot on your neck where he previously nibbled before he does it all over again.

“Please alpha,” you whine, feeling a new wave of slickness coat your thighs.

He sinks his teeth into your throat and you let out a cry of pleasure, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping your legs around his waist.

His tongue slides over the bite and he rolls his hips, still fully clothed, and the friction between your thighs makes you purr in pleasure.

“You’re wearing too many clothes Joel.”

Your soft reprimand has him kissing you breathless and when he releases you for air he sits up and starts to unbutton his shirt.

With a gentle touch you stop the action. “Let me. Please?” you ask sweetly.

He relents and shifts so you can work your hands along the closed buttons, slowly revealing more of his warm skin.

“I love you,” he says just as your fingertips brush the fabric from his shoulders. “My omega. Mine. All mine.”

Your lips press to the spot over this heart, its beat steady and strong under your kiss. He wraps his hand around your wrist and lifts your fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the tip of each before guiding you to the button of his jeans.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “And I’m yours. All yours.”

@blackwidownat2814 @lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @lizette50 @kmc1989

[shadowsof-thenight]

Bound for Ruin

Summary: When Jenna meets Bucky it takes her a while to realise they both want very different things. But Bucky is a stubborn man, who rarely hears no and he's not about to take it for an answer now.

Ship: Bucky Barnes x OFC 

Warnings: Angst, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, some toxic attitudes.

Words: 4949 (just under the max amount!)

A/N: It's been a while since I entered Suz' (@targaryenvampireslayer) Blind Date challenge. The quote is bold.

She really put me to the test as the trope she gave me was Sugar daddy and that's far from my usual work. But instead of asking for something more familiar, I liked the idea of stepping out of my comfort zone. This isn't at all like I first imagined though, so I hope you'll like it.

And I apologise for any mistakes. This wasn’t beta’ed. 

She stalked into the club, paying no mind to the bouncers or security. They knew who she was and wouldn’t bar her entry. Her strides were powerful and confident, despite the fact that she’d realised there was no plan upon entering. She hadn’t thought that far ahead at all. She’d simply been too angry to think when she’d left her house, clutching the letter that tipped her over the edge. 

She took a breath as the loud music, the amount of people and the heat washed over her. Jenna never really liked clubs like this, preferring smaller bars where conversation was an option. Alas, this was where she’d find the object of her anger. It was his first business, the place where it all started and he came here every Saturday as it was the busiest day. Jenna looked to her left and saw girls dancing on the various platforms, as they did every weekend. 

She couldn’t suppress a smirk as an idea sparked in her mind. She could’ve sat down at the bar and he would’ve noticed her quick enough, but this might just be better. 

A devilish smile played on her lips as she walked over to one of the higher platforms and climbed up. Stepping on it, she told the girl already dancing to take a small break. The girl looked utterly confused and her eyes sought out the security guard that always stood nearby. He probably signalled for her to agree, because she backed off towards the steps.

“Don’t go far, you’ll have your spot back in no time,” Jenna added with a smirk as she took of her coat and threw it aside. She then looked straight at the camera and flipped it off, before unbuttoning her blouse to show some cleavage. Just enough to get a reaction from the one man she was doing this for.

As expected it only took Bucky mere moments to respond. He was out of his office and making his way towards her, scowling as he did so. Jenna schooled her expression as best she could, feigning innocence as she smiled and waved. She kept dancing, finishing the song that was playing, before signalling the girl to return. 

As she stepped back down, the security guard that had been quietly observing handed her her coat. She thanked him with a wink—knowing it would annoy Bucky further.  That was Bucky’s cue to grab her arm and pull her none-too-gently back to his office that was situated behind the bar. Inside the confines of his office he released her arm with a huff and began pacing the space between her and his desk. Seeing his frustration gave her an odd sense of satisfaction. She saw it as payback for all the trouble he’d caused her these last few months. 

She took a moment to quietly observe him. His handsome face was twisted into a grimace, his blue eyes hard and his beautiful soft lips pressed to a tin line. He really was an impressive specimen, she thought to herself, if only he was less stubborn. 

When Jenna had lost her job four months ago, she hadn’t imagined her life would become entangled with the man before her. Bucky Barnes had been nothing but an enigma to her. One of the most successful men in the city, incredibly private and therefore mysterious. Even though she’d met him several times through her friend Abigail, she never quite got a read on him. She still didn’t feel like she really knew him, but at least she knew which buttons to push for a reaction. 

For years Abigail had had an arrangement with one of Bucky’s best friends, Sam. He treated her like a queen—luxurious gifts, trips, a stellar apartment in their expensive city and a generous allowance. All she had to do was be available to him at all times. Abigail had tried to make the arrangement sound enticing to Jenna. Tried to convince her that this was a great deal, but Jenna care for it. She was ready for something more serious. For love, equality—freedom. The arrangement that Abigail loved so much, felt too limited to Jenna. And constricting. 

When she’d first gone on dates with Bucky, she wasn’t aware that he had expected the same arrangement. He’d buy her drinks, take her to dinner and charmed her better than anyone had ever done before. Jenna was certainly beguiled. Then he had offered to pay her rent and she’d gotten the gist of his intentions. It felt wrong. She had diploma’s, a good resume and interviews lined up—she didn’t need his money. She didn’t want to be a kept woman. Bucky had obviously been disappointed. He’d even offered her a job with one of his companies, but that didn’t seem all too different to Jenna. 

Then one by one her interviews were cancelled. People didn’t want to cross Bucky. They didn’t want to risk doing wrong by her and invoking his wrath. While she couldn’t really blame them—he’d proven himself a ruthless businessman—it still hurt that her abilities no longer mattered now that he was involved. She’d achieved everything before then on merit. She studied hard, worked hard and pushed through when things got tough. Yet none of that carried any weight now. 

Bucky hadn’t been ready to budge–unable to accept that any of her current state was due to his interest. He was enthralled. She was beautiful, smart and headstrong. Her ability to say no to him made her more interesting. He had been convinced that she’d come around to the arrangement he wanted. He was used to getting his way. 

When he discovered her financial strain, he’d imagined himself swooping in like a knight in shining armour, while she simply wanted to be her own saviour. She liked him, but she wanted to be an equal partner, not subservient. The massive mismatch had caused strive. 

He refused to help her get a job and she had fought his desires. But now, without a job and an eviction notice to boot, she was getting desperate. Going into his place of business and antagonising him had been her last attempt to get the upper hand. Just so she wouldn’t feel weak for bending to him. 

“What was that?” He growled. He stood straight, breathing deep in an attempt to curb his anger, but she could see him clenching and unclenching his fists. He was simmering, anger still close to the surface. Funnily enough, she thought he looked rather sexy. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She asked, her tone haughty, the fingers of her right hand playing with her still opened buttons. 

“Are you here to accept my proposal? Or a job?” He asked, stepping close to her. 

“You really haven’t given me much choice,” Jenna exclaimed, pulling the eviction notice from her pocket and pushing it in his hands. Looking it over quickly, he had the good sense to cast his eyes down. 

“This was never my intention,” he said gruffly, taking a step back from her. 

“Then what was? You wanted me at your mercy, did you not?” She asked. “To control everything.” 

“I wanted you to want to be here.” He looked rather defeated as he still stared at the letter in his hands. 

“That doesn’t happen by forcing my hand,” she said, her words icy. She stepped closer to him as she spoke. “You arrogant asshole, why couldn’t you have left me alone?” 

Her words made him snap his eyes back to her. She stood close, perhaps too close she realised as she looked from his eyes to his lips and back. Why was he so hot? 

He closed the gap between them quickly, pressing his lips to hers before anything else could be said. They were soft as they moved against her own. His movements held no urgency as he pulled her close. She pulled back at first, but he moved with her—trapping her against the wall and she sighed into the kiss before returning it. She did like him, regardless of their issues. Not to mention that she was here to accept his conditions finally, to be his sugar baby. At the very least she could enjoy herself. 

Her hands found his shoulders, fingers gently tickling down his arms and he groaned into the kiss. The response intrigued her. If a simple touch could make him increase his eagerness, what else could she do to him? Her hands explored further, heat exploding inside of her as his actions mirrored hers. 

The following hours were spend mapping out what the other liked, wanted and was good at. Jenna wouldn’t call it mind blowing exactly—that was reserved for their first night together months ago—but it was good. Really good.  

“I don’t think control is that bad,” he said as he put his shirt back on, his back turned to her, and she smiled bitterly. How a few simple words could ruin her mood so quickly. She shook her head as she remembered that this was a business deal, even if she couldn’t help but feel like she caught the short end of the stick.

***

Five weeks later 

Jenna pulled away reluctantly. She was tired. She hadn’t had many full nights sleep in weeks. Bucky liked seeing her after work, but insisted on sleeping alone. Leaving her to pack her things and go home every night, while he turned around and slept. During the day, he was a gentleman. He took her on dates, listened to her, asked for her opinions, used her insights to make decisions, made her feel important to him. But at night, he kept her at arms length. Never quite opening up to her. That was until now. 

“Stay,” He whispered. 

She was already dressed, so she knew he’d been debating this. Standing by the door, she looked back in surprise. His arm was tossed over his face, so she couldn’t see his expression. Still his words had shown a kind of vulnerability he hadn’t offered her before. 

She assumed it was to protect himself. Still, this was him trying, wasn’t it? Jenna moved back towards the bed and sat down on the edge, pulling his arm away from his face. 

“You don’t want to sleep alone tonight?” She asked, looking him straight in the eyes. When he tried to look away, she gently took hold of his cheek and held his gaze. “Talk to me,” she added softly. 

“I don’t,” he said. The look in his eyes had never been quite as open as it was now. In all the months they’d known each other, there’d been a mask. One that didn’t falter, even during their arrangement. Not until this moment and her heart warmed at the thought of really moving past his walls. She knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up, shouldn’t read too much into it, but she wanted it so badly. 

Jenna took a deep breath, kicked off her slippers and climbed on top of him, holding him tight. He sighed, pulling the covers over the two of them and melting into the hug. His eyes closed and he fell asleep holding her tight. As his breath slowed, she allowed herself to ponder this change in attitude. He didn’t open up as a rule. She’d realised a while back that it was why he preferred their arrangement over a real relationship.She wondered what changed tonight—apparently he needed more than he’d been asking for and she wanted to give it to him. 

She knew this was a messy situation that would bite her in the ass soon enough, but she couldn’t help herself. She was falling for him, despite his attempts to keep a firm distance. With him now opening up to her even a little, that distance grew smaller.

***

Three months later

“You’re gorgeous,” his lips were close to her ear as he spoke. His warm breath sending shivers down her spine, as his fingers lightly danced over her lower back which was exposed in her dress. 

One thing she’d found in the last few months was that he liked touch. He liked being close, physical, even when it wasn’t sexual. Jenna definitely didn’t mind. Even if it complicated her feelings, she didn’t fight his proximity. Since that night where he’d asked her to stay, she hadn’t spend a single night alone. The distance between them seemed to have evaporated and her heart was ignoring the reality of their situation. 

They walked around the banquet greeting other guests. He was soft, gentle and comfortable and she liked being here with him. He knew how to make her laugh, how to make her swoon and how to make her cry out his name in ecstasy. She wasn’t just getting comfortable, she was falling in love. And it was dangerous. 

With his hand still on her back, he went back to the conversations around them. Business people discussing new plans or boasting about their latest successes. She smiled as she observed him, he was in his element and it looked good on him. Bucky was strong and confident as he explained his own latest venture. He was charming, making sure everyone around him felt seen. And when he smiled, it lit up the room. So she stared, she couldn’t help it. 

“You’re staring,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. He pulled her even closer. 

“I was admiring the view,” she winked. Bucky smiled and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Thirty more minutes,” He promised with another kiss. 

“I’m okay. It’s a good view.” 

“Idem, but I know a better view,” he said and she didn’t need to guess what he meant as the fingers on her back teasingly dipped beneath the fabric of her dress. 

True to his word, Bucky pulled her from the conversations thirty minutes later. He told the people they’d been speaking too that they had an early start the following morning and it was time to go. She didn’t protest, even though there was nothing that would urge them out of bed the next day. 

His hands were on her sides as soon as they left the large hall. His lips tracing a feather light trail from her ear to her cheek as they waited for their coats. His lips found their way to hers as he first kissed the edges, first left, than right, before he smushed her lips and pushed his tongue inside her mouth. There was an urgency to his kiss, like he needed it. 

When he stopped, he looked deep into her eyes—a hauntingly enthralling look in those dazzling blue orbs of his—and he smiled happily. With a sigh he touched his forehead to hers, keeping eye contact and creating a stillness between them. It felt like he could see into the deepest part of her soul and she felt heat creeping up her neck and cheeks. 

“I want you,” he finally whispered, placing another kiss on her lips, this one more sensual. 

Their coats were brought out then, interrupting them, and they made their way outside where his driver was already waiting for them. Her hand warmly clasped in his as they walked and his lips close to her ear, whispering sweet little nothings. 

Bucky gallantly opened the door for her, before quickly walking around the car to join her on the backseat. Once seated the driver drove off and Bucky turned his attention back on Jenna. It started slowly, one hand trailing up her leg, finding the hem of her dress and then moving past it. His lips found her neck, finding the little pressure points he knew would make her sigh when he kissed them. Her hands made their way to his chest, playing with the lapels of his three-piece suit. Then she placed on hand on the back his neck and playing with the tips of his slicked back hair. 

“I love you,” she spoke the words before she could think. She meant them in that moment, more than she ever had with anyone in the past. But that wasn’t want this was and she quickly pulled back with a gasp. He still held her close, staring at her face while the seductive heat on her skin changed into cold sweat—had she ruined it? 

He cupped her cheek, not saying a word, the look in his eyes unreadable. Then he plunged his lips on hers and kissed her deeply, the urgency to his actions a stark contrast to the languidity of before. When he pulled back, his pupiles were enlarged. Jenna imagined hers were as well. Neither of them seemed to realised that they were still in the car. Not until a small knock alerted them of the driver’s presence. 

They offered apologetic smiles as they got out and quickly moved across the sidewalk and into the apartment building where Bucky lived. Thankfully the lobby was empty at this time of the night and they were able to walk through it and into the elevator without anyone speaking to them. Once in the confined space he pushed her up against the wall, pressing himself against her. She could feel his hard length pressed against her thigh and it ignited a heat in her core that could only be quenched by him. She pulled his face towards hers and hungrily kissed his lips, while his hands freely roamed her body over her dress. 

***

By the time Jenna woke up, Bucky was gone. He was supposed to have a day off, but he was nowhere to be found in the apartment. It wasn’t until she walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, that she saw his note. He’d gone into the office regardless. 

She sighed, they hadn’t spoke about her confession yet and she was eager to know what he thought. How he felt. Eager and scared. So instead of waiting, she looked at the clock and decided to visit him for lunch. No sense in postponing the inevitable.  

“Hey, love,” she said walking into his office after the secretary had let her in. Bucky was on the phone and held up a finger to silence her. She held up the bag of food to tell him what she was doing there and he pointed at the small seating area by the window. He soon ended the phone call and walked over to her. 

“We have to make this quick,” He was brusk. She hadn’t seen him like this before. “I have a meeting soon.” He added as he pulled her into him. “Lets eat then,” she offered, pulling back slightly. 

Bucky ignored her words and kissed her neck while his hands roamed over her body. His movements were rough, rushed and Jenna pushed his hands away. He halted his movements momentarily, looking at her and showing her that the wall they’d been breaking down was back up completely. Instantly she knew her words the night before had scared him off.

“Buck, what’s going on?” She asked, not ready to face her reality. 

“Are you saying no?” He questioned and suddenly she wondered what his intention was. Did he want her to walk away?

“I want to know why you’re acting like this,” she pressed. “This isn’t like you."

“I’m horny, you’re here. That’s how this works,” he stepped back from her, his fingers angrily combing through his hair. He’d been letting it grow out these last few months. She focussed on his movements to ignore the effect his words had had on her. ‘That’s how this works’. She’d thought or hoped that last night had changed things, but it hadn’t. This was still a business arrangement to him. Which wasn’t sufficient for her, not anymore. Her eyes pricked with unshed tears as she really let it sink in. 

He stood in front of the large windows that overlooked the city below, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. His silhouet in the weak winter sun was beautiful and she wished she could walk up behind him, like she had done many times before in this very room. She wished she could wrap her arms around him, just to feel him close. She wished to see the gentle side of him that he had shown her. Still, she knew better than to set herself up for failure. Fighting the tears that were burning her eyes and throat, she walked around the seating area and grabbed her wintercoat, her trendy tote and walked towards the door. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly as she looked back at him—part of her hoped that he would stop her, but he didn’t even turn around. Finally she let the tears fall. opened the door and walked out. 

She knew what she had to do, even if it hurt. Jenna knew she could not ignore the situation they were in and she needed to act. She was not some damsel in distress—even if she let him put her in that position for months now. It was time to change that and get back to who she truly was. 

Getting back to the apartment felt heavy. It would be the last time she viewed this space. Walking in she moved quickly, grabbing a trash bag from the cupboard underneath the sink. Moving through the place, she grabbed everything that was hers from before and put it in the bag. Part of her was angry that she’d tossed her old tattered travelbag, even though she knew it had been on his last legs years ago. She could’ve used it now. Instead the trash bag would have to do. She didn’t take anything that he’d given her.

She wasn’t left with much, but she hadn’t entered their arrangement with much either so it seemed only fair. Looking at her cheap wallet, all hers, she took out the money and cards that were his. She only kept a little money to help her move—promising to pay it back as soon as she was able. 

She wrote as much in the note she left him, along with much more mushy comments. She apologised for the destroying their house of cards, for ignoring their initial agreement and trying to make it more than it was. And when she was done, she placed her copies of the keys on the table and left. 

She repeated much of the process at her own place. Thankful that one of her old suitcases had not been thrown out yet. It was old and ugly, but it was all hers. She opened her laptop and devised an email to be let out of her lease and anything else that could keep her in this city. Then she booked a bus ticket for that evening and wrote another letter. A longer one this time, telling him to let her go. She couldn’t remain where her love wasn’t wanted. 

***

Five months later 

It had taken her a some time to find her bearings. A broken heart was tougher than she had imagined it to be. She hadn’t felt the energy to do much of anything. None of the activities that used to bring her joy, felt more like a chore now—shopping, going out with friends, it was all too much. 

Jenna did manage to get herself a proper office job, not unlike the one she had last year. It paid the bills and even restored her savings little by little. After two months she could move out of the motel she’d been staying at and into a small but modern studio apartment. She was lucky that the cost of living was lower in this city. 

Then last week, some of her co-workers even invited her out for after work drinks. She found out that her co-workers were actually pretty fun. So much so, that she was meeting them tonight as well. 

It was Friday evening and in about thirty minutes she would be able to close her computer, freshen up at home and meet them at the diner across from it. Afterwards, her and Stacy were having a drink at a local bar. Stacy had been the one to show her the ropes at work. She was bubbly, eager and fun-loving. She reminded her of Abigail. 

Jenna missed her friends and made a mental note to call them this weekend. When she first left, she’d postponed calling them for a full week. Despite knowing they’d worry. She was crying too much to talk. But, Abigail hadn’t been mad at her sudden disappearance. She also promised not to tell Sam or Bucky where she was. And just to be sure, Jenna hadn’t given her a precise address either. Now, they tried to talk weekly, but they’d missed each other last week. 

In the first few calls, Abigail had kept her informed of Bucky’s movements, but eventually Abigail had realised just how painful it was for Jenna. So she stopped mentioning him. She barely even spoke of Sam and Jenna was grateful for it. 

“Are you ready to go?” Stacy asked, interrupting Jenna’s pondering. 

“Just about,” she said. 

“I have to run to the store quickly, meet you at the diner?” Stacy offered and Jenna nodded in agreement. Turning back to her screen, Jenna quickly saved her work and closed the program. Time for the weekend to begin. 

***

It had taken him quite a few months to finally find her again. When Jenna had gone, she really wiped every trace of herself from him life. She hadn’t taken her phone or the creditcards. She didn’t rent anything in the city, hadn’t applied to any companies as far as he could tell. Finally he had to accept that she left town. That’s when the real work started and he hired a private investigator—telling himself that it was just to ascertain that she was alive and well. Bucky tried to convince himself that all he needed to know, was that she was fine. He told himself that if he found her, he would let it go. 

Instead, this Friday evening, he found himself standing on the street where she lived, watching her greet people in a diner. He realised that she had rebuilt her life, to create it much like the life she’d had before him. A life where he wasn’t footing the bill or having any say. Just as she had wanted from the start. 

He couldn’t even be bitter about the turn of events. He knew he had ruined it himself. She said she loved him and pulled up a wall. It’s what he had always done before. Though he hadn’t quite regretted it as much without anyone else. One month after she had left, Jenny had sent him a check for the money she had taken with her on her hasty departure. The money had been the last thing he wanted. He wanted her back. To tell her that he loved her too, that he’d just been too scared. 

He realised that even in his fear, he managed to make it all about him. Like a spoiled child, used to getting his way. He’d gotten so comfortable in his life. People rarely said no to him. Only Sam and Steve wouldn’t join the yes-sayers. In the last five months he had realised that this wasn’t enough. He needed to have more people opposing him, willing to be honest with him.

As he watched her sitting down in the booth with her friends, he noticed the bright smile on her face. One of the woman had stood to hug her before scooting in to make space in their booth. He couldn’t interrupt now. He wasn’t sure he could interrupt her life at all. 

She deserved to be happy. His heart broke as he stared a little longer, before finally hailing a taxi and leaving. It was time to let her go. 

Except, unbeknownst to him, Jenna had seen him get into the taxi. He didn’t see the mad dash she made from the diner or the single tear that slid down her cheek as she watched him drive away from her. 

It made the surprise that much bigger, when he got a knock on his door one week later. 

“Why didn’t come talk to me?” Jenna asked as soon as he opened the door. He looked a tad confused, so she added; “ I saw you last week.” 

Bucky didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t expected her to see him, he’d been so careful. And he certainly hadn’t expected her to show up at his door. Jenna didn’t exactly know what she wanted him to say either. She’d gone back and forth all week in her mind, would she go see him? Would she keep her distance? What did she want? Had he changed his mind about what he wanted? 

Eventually Stacy had told her that she would never know, unless she asked him. And living with the doubt could easily become too much. So at the risk of ripping open old wounds, Jenna had books another busticket. This time in the opposite direction. 

“Well, are you going to say anything?” She asked.  

Unable to form any coherent sentence, Bucky did the only thing he could think off. The one thing he truly wanted—he stepped into the hall, his hand cradling her cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. Jenna smiled into the kiss and kissed him back happily. 

“I love you too,” Bucky said as he pulled back for a moment. 

“Well, it’s about time,” Jenna smiled and pulled him in for another kiss. 

[kiiyuq]

formality

its hard to tell how tight the leash digs into my skin, but if its your hand on the other end-

Heres the artwork for @suzteel's fic, Latent, for the @kinnporschebigbang, which I am just absolutely going insane about. I've been thinking about this so much ever since I received the prompt Thank you to Suz for writing such an amazing fic, I can only hope that my artwork lives up to your writing. Being able to work with you has been such a fun time, and I've enjoyed this period of time so much!. Thank you again to all the mods of the KPTS Big Bang for making this whole thing possible, and doing all the work in the background. And~~~~ again a special thanks to Yujeong @no1petesimp and Jamie @xhangkyuns for dealing with me running around like a headless chicken with my artworks, I love you both so much~~

[americasass81]

Shattered Hearts

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Relationship Breakup, Implied Stalking, Brief Mention of Character Death, Smut {m/f), Minor Edging, Use of Pet Names. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Synopsis: Can a broken heart and a chance encounter really lead to everlasting love?  Take a shot and find out.

Author’s Note 1:- Written for @targaryenvampireslayer Blind Date Writing Challenge.  Got there eventually, right? 🤣 Still thank you for hosting this Suz and presenting me with an opportunity to finally add Clint to my masterlist.  The prompts received are as pictured below (also typed in bold throughout):- 

Author’s Note 2:- Flashback scenes in italics.

Author’s Note 3:- As usual all images have been found through google search.

Pairings:- Clint Barton x Female Reader

Total Word Count:- 4,502

Surrounded by half-drunk bodies, smoke and loud music, finishing off your drink and setting aside the empty glass, you let the last dart fly, not really caring what score it produced as long as it hit the board. Hell at this stage of the night all you really wanted to hear was the darts thump into the dartboard as hard as possible while the image of your ex's face filled your vision. Your ex. Oh how you wished you could puncture his face as you made your way towards the board, retrieved the darts and began the whole process all over again in the hopes that it would somehow release every bottled up feeling threatening to tear you apart from the inside out. But alas it wasn't meant to be. Five more rounds, too many more glasses of alcohol to count and you didn't feel any better . . . and honestly how could you?

Sweet, polite and more that willing to help out other people in any way you could, your kind nature and uncanny ability to pick out the worst possible partners in life was exactly the combination of attributes that had landed you here now drowning your sorrows and fending off every man and woman that seemed to think one night with them would magically cure you of the current mood that traveled with you like an old friend. After all, thanks to your latest failing it now appeared crystal clear that you and a lasting, long term relationship were about as compatible as chalk and cheese. Yet there was a part of you that still yearned for one.

Resting your head momentarily now against the dartboard as your hand reached up automatically to pull out the darts once more, you heard Felix's voice again and returned to the beach where he had not only told you things were over between the two of you, but that it had never really been that serious to begin with. As if it ever could be. Apparently now that he was walking away, all the nice things you had ever done for him had been a thorn in his side and to really rub salt in your wounds, he had actually proven himself to be the very worst of all your ex partners by admitting that he had in fact been seeing someone else the whole time that both of you were together and was now ready to commit to a life with her.

And all of this after you had spent the day preparing an anniversary picnic and buying him tickets to watch his favorite team play their final match of the season. God you really knew how to pick them.

Jerking back to the present now as about the seventh person this night appeared beside you, placed their hand upon your ass and asked if they could turn your frown upside down, another strained, polite "no thank you" and the now familiar path back to the white marker on the floor had you ready once more to take your hurt and anger out on the dartboard when events took you in a new and totally surprising direction.

With characteristics indicative of yet another guy, coming up to stand behind you and placing one hand on your left shoulder as his other one skimmed lightly down your right to cup the hand holding the darts, your were about to push this new chancer away, tell him you weren't interested and actually leave the bar this time when his gently uttered instructions on how to hold the dart and move your arm distracted you enough for his next words to somehow reset your entire mood and grant him a temporary opening.

"I know, Baby. I'm right here, breathe."

Relaxing back against his strong chest now despite your better judgment and allowing him to guide your body through the movements, the dart leaving your hand and lodging itself perfectly in the bull's eye, followed by two more after that, had you questioning this new turn of events and the stranger responsible for pulling it all off. Only he wasn't a stranger at all. Not really.

Releasing yourself from his embrace just long enough to return to the dartboard and pull the darts free from the center circle like always, turning around to see who you would now have to fend off, your movements and words failed you however when your eyes locked on the vision before you. For this really was someone the whole world recognised.

Short haired, flannel wearing, blue eyed and totally buff in all the places that turned you on, him walking forward to meet you now had the whole bar silently watching what happened next given that Hawkeye had left wherever it was he resided these days to spend some time amongst the normal, everyday rabble . . . and you in particular it seemed.

Placing his hands on your shoulders again and winking at you discreetly to hold your attention, he then bent forwards and rested his lips gently against yours before pulling back and speaking just loud enough for all those present to get an understanding of the image he wanted to convey. "Sorry I'm late baby, work ran a little longer than planned but I'm here now. Are you ready for me to take you home?"

Slotting yourself into this scene now and nodding your head enough for him to notice since you didn't think your voice would actually work in this situation, Clint next walked you back towards your bar stool, held up your jacket for you to slip into and then placing his hand around your waist, led you from the bar and out onto the street where the lack of people and cool night-time air broke his spell and somehow sobered you up just enough to have you turning away from him swiftly and spewing the contents of your night's activities onto the sidewalk. But at least you now felt so much better and clear headed. That is until you straightened back up to find Clint still standing where you'd left him with a concerned look on his face. It seemed you now had to finish off your night by dealing with this hero.

Wiping off your mouth now with a stray piece of tissue and dumping it then into the nearest rubbish bin, you now took in some much welcome breaths before returning to stand in front of the avenger and bracing yourself for what lay ahead. Introducing yourself and thanking him for his assistance, you next pulled out your phone to ring for a cab only to be struck mute and incredulous once again when his hand reached out to yours, snatched the phone from it and spoke once more. "Baby forgive me, but my conscience cannot allow me to have you take a cab home alone in this condition. May I?" he asked before giving you the once over and pointing you in the direction of what you could only assume happened to be his truck.

Looking now between it, him and your confiscated phone as well as the alcohol you had just deposited onto the sidewalk, you contemplated turning down his offer but figured when a slight thrumming made itself known between your ears that you didn't have much of a choice. After all being an avenger he probably was your safest option home especially if this new annoyance turned out to be the mother of all hangovers you suspected it to be. So reluctantly, you accepted his gracious offer.

Wasting no time then when you nodded your agreement once more, Clint now took you gently by the arm and walked you to his truck before opening the passenger's door and helping you inside. Then buckling you in, he next walked over to the driver's side, situated himself behind the wheel and turned to face you before asking for your address so that he could fulfill his promise to see you home safely. Which it seemed is exactly what he did. Opening your eyes at last when the truck stopped moving beneath you and the release of the safety belt signaled the journey had ended, you admitted silently to being a little surprised at the ease at which you had let your guard down and allowed yourself to actually doze off in his presence. Then again he was an avenger so you figured your safety was all but guaranteed.

Sitting there a few seconds longer now as the sight of home and the cooling night air brought you back to thoughts of your warm waiting bed, you thanked Clint once more for rescuing you as he helped you from his truck and walked you the short distance to your door. However he still wasn't ready to leave your side. Watching your hand tremble slightly as the key and lock refused to connect, Clint then graciously mirrored his actions from the bar and guided your hand and key to the lock, turned it easily and led both of you inside. Turning on the light then and walking you carefully through your place, you would have, under normal circumstances, wondered how he knew his way around your home, but in this moment as he sat you on the chair inside the bedroom door and began removing your shoes all that mattered was the bed calling out to you and the sleep it so readily offered.

Remaining on the chair now while Clint gently continued by next removing all your clothes, you knew the alcohol was winning out however when he then placed you under the covers and your hand reached out to grasp his firmly before your tired and ragged words broke the silence all around you, "stay please. It's been a shitty twenty-four hours and I just wish I had someone to hold me." Shooting his eyes down to where your hands connected, they lingered there momentarily before then landing on your face to gauge just how serious you were. Too tired now it seemed to fully function, yet still not out of it enough to let go of his hand, Clint must have seen something in your features for as morning's light hit you once again his body laying atop the other side of the bed confirmed that last night's plea had won out.

Not that it mattered at this particular moment.

Easing out of bed carefully now so as not to wake it's other occupant, you smiled softly at the sight of the orange juice and painkillers, took them gratefully and then hurried off to the en suite to take care of what had woken you up before dealing with the sight that greeted you again on your arrival back into the bedroom. For it brought with it a panic that almost turned your body rigid as images of the night before sprang to life before your very eyes. For your memories revealed that sleep hadn't quite claimed you straight away as you had hoped.

Tucked up snugly under the covers after Clint agreed to your request, him resting atop those same covers to keep you company, like he remained when you woke up, had mixed with the alcohol still thrumming throughout your system to blow your defenses apart and lay bare all the pain the darts had failed to exorcise. Retelling it all in infinite detail the story of what had landed you at that bar, as well as all the useless and unworthy lovers that had paved the way, Clint reaching out his calloused fingers to wipe away your tears were nothing compared to the words that broke through your current misery and somehow brought you comfort.

"Baby don't waste another tear on those losers. If they can't appreciate the treasure before them, there are those of us only too willing to step in and treat you right. Rest now," he ordered gently then before placing his lips tenderly against yours as sleep finally claimed both of you.

Which brought you right back to how you had just woken up and all the questions your current predicament now flooded your mind with.

For starters, how were you going to talk yourself and your guest away from the information dump your inebriated state had divulged against your will the previous night? Added to that, how were you going to wake up the avenger before you and get him out of your house and your life? More importantly however, did you even want him out of your life?

Stopping up short on this question now as the preposterous notion that last night was anything other than a kind gesture on his part told you to let him go, your mind began to wander again however as your eyes landed on his still sleeping form and your legs now took control and walked you over to his side of the bed. Dropping to your knees then and really focusing on him now, your world suddenly spun wildly on its axis with the only thought that crystallized clear in your mind . . . you didn't want him to leave.

Taking in a silent breath after this revelation before reaching gently up to place your hand against his cheek, this close to him now you finally saw the difference between the legend and the man. For this was not Hawkeye. Oh sure, it looked like him and god knows what you had so far felt of his physique certainly confirmed his years of S.H.I.E.L.D. training, but laying before you now as sleep still held his vulnerable form, you suddenly realized was not the strapping avenger known for battling alien forces, leaping backwards off seriously tall buildings or surviving his wife and kids disappearing before his very eyes.

For he hadn't survived at all. Watching on your knees still, the lines now evident on his still handsome face and the painful memories that moved his body slightly through sleep told you he had simply buried the pain and did what was expected of him while leaving behind this shell that seemed, like you, to be longing for some sort of real physical and emotional connection. And perhaps that's what drew him to you at the bar and kept him with you last night. But where did that leave both of you now?

Rising from the floor on this thought now and turning to walk away to get dressed so as not to deal with this new lingering question, Clint opening his eyes and firmly grasping your hand, as yours had his the previous night, before pulling you down onto himself and the bed as his lips caressed yours, forced you to suddenly accept that this really was something you very much wanted. Last night sure it would have been the alcohol talking, but now as dawn's light peaked through the curtains and Clint whispered words of endearment you weren't really listening to, your body seemed to take you where your heart was willing to go. Even if it was only for this one precious time.

Pulling back first for air now and looking at this man who still lay fully clothed atop the covers, your hand came up to rest against his cheek again before speaking, "I'm not sure if guys ever get asked this but, are you sure this is what you want? I completely understand if you just wanna leave," you finished hesitantly though you could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Allowing his actions to convey all the sentiment his currently occupied mouth seemed incapable of expressing, Clint continued to kiss and caress every inch of you instead until both of your lungs screamed out for air once more and the clothing imbalance between you finally became a bigger issue.

Reaching out to remove his shirt then while also pulling off his t-shirt to reveal his extraordinary physical form underneath, you were just about to carry on the same process with his jeans when a smirk from him had him leaping off the bed while a pout now spoiled your once graceful features. For it seemed this avenger still possessed a playful streak. Bending down to remove his socks as your eyes remained glued to every miniscule action, he next lifted his head ever so slightly to look at you through his lashes as his hands then began a slow sensual trail back up his legs which you now longed to squeeze and caress.

Scooting up the bed now and resting against the headboard, your fingers mirrored the same trip downwards however when his belt became undone and his hips began to wiggle themselves free of the constraining fabric that held his equipment. Never breaking eye contact then as his hands removed the jeans and boxers, Clint now straightening back up to find your hand resting against your core still held that mischievous smirk on his face when you finally realized he had strategically positioned his hands over his privates to keep you further in suspense. Not that this situation would last long however as it seemed both of you lacked the necessary patience to prolong this delightful form of torture.

Biting your lower lip now as your fingers began to stoke the embers growing within your pussy, the softest of moans leaving your lips had Clint cursing just under his breath as his hands now took on a mind of their own and began to pump life into his phallus as both of you encouraged each other towards release while remaining completely cut off from one another. Burying your fingers then within your pussy while your thumb played softly against your clit, your ragged breaths joining with Clint's as his hand moved faster along his member finally tipped both of you over the edge and as the avenger collapsed on the bed below your feet, both of you surrendered to your first orgasms before your laughter broke through the euphoria of what you had just done.

For it seemed upon discussion neither of you had ever done anything so uninhibited before. But at the same time it didn't seem to bother either of you. Instead picking his t-shirt back up off the floor and wiping his cum off his hand, Clint then crawled up the bed and nestled himself between your legs before reaching out to take your hand previously buried deep within your flower. Moving it towards his lips then as your head shook wildly with what he was about to do, you seriously wanted to reach out and hit him however as his laughter broke through the silence once more when his t-shirt now covered your fingers and proceeded to clean each of them off as well.

Discarding the soiled material then before kissing the back of your hand, Clint next moved farther up the bed until your chests met and nothing but a whisper was all that was needed now for you to hear his answer to your long ago statement about setting him free. "Of course I want this baby and I'm not going anywhere. Now let me show you the joys of someone totally devoted to nobody but you," he continued as his thumb now wiped away a tear again while your gently uttered yes had him burying his lips against yours before he moved both of your bodies down the bed so as to make you more comfortable before he finally laid claim to everything that made you you.

And that's exactly what he did up until the point where a single lucid moment had you wondering what you had done and what on earth you had allowed to happen. For there was no going back from this it seemed. Filling yourself with alcohol and releasing all your anger for your ex and those that had gone before had irreparably weakened your defenses and now that Clint had gotten through he had you right where he wanted you . . . ready and willing it seemed to let him in and fall in a way you swore you never would. But surely there had to be some hope left to you. Some moment that would enable you to close your heart once more and protect yourself from the pain that would now inevitably come when you were once again tossed aside for someone taller, prettier or simply more alluring than you.

Finding such a moment somehow between Clint's all encompassing attention and devotion to assess your options, you had to admit defeat however when the reality of his prowess finally hit you. You were well and truly lost. Oh sure, you wanted to fight back. To scream and rage and push him off you. But not for the reasons one might suspect considering how this encounter had actually started or all the secrets you were still not privy to. After all, you did consent to this. No, as the head of his cock rested now just inside your entrance, what hurts so much in this moment was the intimacy of his actions. The softest of kisses pressed too tenderly against your fevered skin. The feel of his fingers skimming lightly over every patch of flesh they touch as if mapping out a trail to each body part they came in contact with. The just there weight of his body against yours. Strong yet light at the same time as his elbows kept his weight from crushing you completely.

And stealing a moment now to gaze into his eyes as your foreheads rested against each other, you know he feels it too. The connection that somehow goes so much deeper than that of flesh and blood and bone and penetrates the soul until each of you will recognize the other no matter what lies beyond this life . . . and the realization is beyond frightening. At least until Clint distracts you with his movements and your body begins to register a whole new set of feelings and sensations instead.

Dragging his member in and out of you slowly while his balls rested against your ass and his pubic bone set you clit on fire as if he was determined to carve out a spot for his shaft inside your pussy, you tried to control your breathing as he continued to gaze deep into your eyes while his lips caressed yours on every second or third thrust, but it seemed you would have to try something else to get him to give you what you really desired most. "Clint, please," you begged through tears and desperation as his hands now stretched towards yours and both of your fingers twined together in an embrace as old as any in existence. Both of you now couldn't get any closer . . . or so you thought.

"I know, Baby. I'm right here, breathe," Clint now repeated in answer to your plea as his hips no longer moved against you, though his cock somehow twitched within you making you feel more connected to another human being than you had ever felt before. Which was shockingly overwhelming. But still it was nothing compared to what the archer got up to next. Gazing up into his blue eyes that sparked fantastically with unshed tears, his lips devouring yours in tender kisses proved an interesting contrast to the filthy words that now left his mouth as you broke apart again to take in some much needed air. "Come on now baby, squeeze my shaft. Let me feel those silky walls clamp down and suck the life from me in a way that joins us body and soul forevermore."

Following through on his request as if you suddenly had no will of your own, one final thrust from him as your walls obeyed his very command found you and Clint moaning into each other's mouths as his release triggered your own and one orgasm blended with another over and over again until the former avenger collapsed atop you totally spent.

Returning to the world again some time later then to find yourself now stretched out atop his powerful frame, Clint's shaft still buried deep within you would not have been enough to hold you but it seemed he suspected as much as his arms also wrapped around you and held you close as his sleeping chest gently rose and fell beneath your own.

Reaching out gingerly once more to caress his face and relish this moment a little longer, your hopes of not waking him shattered just as easily however as the illusion that this could last forever when the man who made you feel like the center of existence opened his eyes and smiled at you as if the very sun itself rose and fell within your eyes. "Hey there baby, ready for another round?" he asked sleepily as his cock stirring once more within you brought your own longings back into sharp focus . . . as well as all your insecurities.

"I'm good, Clint. Besides it's not like this was ever going to be some permanent thing. You have people you need to save and I have a life I should probably get back to," you reminded him as you now tried to worm your way out of his arms and off his cock. But he wasn't having any of it. Pulling you closer now, though you still couldn't see how such a thing was even remotely possible, his lips capturing yours once more as his hips began to thrust back into you told you much more than his words ever could . . . he was not prepared to let you go.

Using his considerable skills and assets now to work you towards another orgasm, holding you on the edge just long enough however to have you whining above him brought him more satisfaction than he ever thought possible, but apparently he wanted more. "Agree to be mine baby. Promise yourself to me and from here on out love, contentment and some of the best sex in the world is all either of us will ever know," he uttered by your ear as a nibbling and sucking sensation along your neck told you that his claiming of you was ramping up another notch.

Laughing at his presumptuousness while pulling back and looking at him now through blissed out euphoria as he lifted your hips off his erection to the point where only the head of his shaft connected both of you again, you tried to fight the feelings he had awoken within you but failed miserably when your resolve was finally shattered by the softest murmured yes to ever leave your lips. Rejoicing in his victory then as his own gleeful squeals joined your own, Clint next set about spending the rest of the morning finding new ways to erase all the hurt you had ever felt while simultaneously reminding himself that he too was not yet beyond love's redeeming light.

[suzdin]

I know a lot of you have been waiting for the much anticipated Chapter Four of Two for One! It’s almost done! To hold you over, here’s a short preview. Lmk what you think! 😍

And thank you all for your never ending patience! Happy New Year, my thirsty babes. Stay thirsty 🥤😊

- Suz 💜

You make Max exchange phone numbers as he’s leaving your apartment.

“No more showing up uninvited,” you reprimand him, the heel of your palm planted firmly between his shoulder and sternum as you push him into the corridor of your building, “I mean it.”

He cocks his head to one side, lopsided smirk twisting his lips, forehead wrinkling as he lifts his brows, pausing. He’s staring at your still very much flushed and sweaty face. “You sure about that, doll?”

Your skin heats even more. You hate to admit that his smarmy defiance arouses you in ways that it shouldn’t.

“Max. If we’re going to keep whatever this is ongoing, I’m going to need some compliance here. For my privacy.”

Max’s smirk only grows wider and he beams at you, his gaze sliding down your face to your lips, hands raised in surrender. “You mean so I don’t cross paths with him, is that it?” he asks, quirking one of his brows to the side, knowing you’re fully cognizant who he’s talking about. “Fine.”

“Tell me you’re not bullshitting,” you retort.

“Woman,“ Max begins, wagging a finger at you, “I assure you that I am in no way being deceitful.”

He hasn’t wiped that shit eating grin off his face the entire time he’s been standing in front of you, either.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Scout’s honor?” you press.

“Scout’s honor,” he replies, lifting his hand in a mocking salute.

You sigh and shove him back another step, his back almost flush with your neighbor’s door.

“Goodbye, Max,” you snip, turning to go back to the comfort of your apartment, when that gnawing southern upbringing decides to make a re-emergence once more, and you remember your manners.

With a sigh, you turn to give him one last glance, your visage softening in its regard. “Thank you, by the way. For the drink.” And you mean it, even if it’s likely all melted and weeping on the table by now.

You almost think you see his own features grow a shade softer, and before you can dwell on it, he’s suddenly shifting back into your space.

Your initial instinct is to flinch, to shove him away, because after Dave and him in a single day, your poor fucked out pussy can’t handle anymore punishment.

But he doesn’t grope or manhandle you. Max’s arms grapple you into a snug embrace, his hot breath fanning over your neck. It’s uncharacteristically soft for Max to show this level of affection and you would hug him back if he wasn’t clamping your arms to your sides.

“Thank you,” he whispers, keeping you ensnared for a few lingering moments before releasing you and taking a step back.

“Yeah… no problem,” you offer awkwardly, because what else do you say to that? “I’ll see you around. I work tomorrow, opening to two.”

Max nods, his usual crooked smirk making a reappearance. “See you then.”

“And hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Be nice to my coworkers. It’s the least you could do,” you remind him.

His smirk doesn’t fade, tongue swabbing the inside of his cheek. “I’ll do my best.”

You snort and shake your head, watching as he disappears down the stairwell.

[imtooscaredforthis]

Tethered

Part III- Chapter 27: Friends Again

Mentions of: Amnesia, Arguments, Joey being a baby, Manipulation, Frank being a brat, etc.

A/N: I totally forgot to post this 😭😭 so here it is

Tags: @prettycutebunny @vandeaad @dead-bxxxtch-walking @mama-miya @moonshineinasippycup

“So, this is your place? It’s cool.” You asked as you entered the lobby of the ski lodge. “Yeah, we usually just used it as our hang out spot before The Entity took us and all. And now, we pretty much live here.”

Susie replied, sitting down on the couch beside Joey. You took a seat across from them, feeling a little apprehensive. “But you’re sure I can stay here? Your other friends aren’t going to have a problem with it?”

“Frank and Julie are out right now. By the time either one of them get back, you’ll probably be gone.” Susie reassured you.

“They do care, and they’d probably be pissed if they saw you here.” Joey remarked, making you feel even worse. Susie told him not to be a jerk, elbowing him in the side. “Sorry, just ignore him.”

“Uh- anyways, where are you guys from?“ You changed the topic to something a little more comfortable.

“We’re from a little town in Canada called Ormond. Frank’s from somewhere else in Canada, though. I’m not sure where. What about you? Where are you from?” She questioned.

“About that..I don’t really remember where I’m from. I think before I got here, I got into some sort of accident that gave me amnesia, and I’ve been having a really hard time remembering things. All I remember is my name, and a few other things.” You admitted.

“Wait, seriously? You don’t remember anything? That must suck.”

“Well I do remember some things…just not clearly. Like, when I was dancing with Jake, I had a memory and was trying to act it out. I heard it helps you remember things better.” You explained.

She smirked at you, giving you a skeptical look. “Mhm, sure.”

“You don’t have to believe me, but that’s the main reason.” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. She just narrowed her eyes at you, not saying another word.

“Anyways, you guys wanna do something?”

–

You stared at Joey, trying to figure him out. He gave you a blank look in reply. He was really hard to read. With a frown, you set your cards down on the table.

“I think you’re bluffing.” He shook his head, a small grin crossing his lips. “Pick them up.”

“Bullshit!” You exclaimed, flipping the cards over and finding that it was two sixes, just like he had claimed. You groaned in frustration, taking the small stack and adding it to your deck.

“I told you that we shouldn’t play this with him. He always cheats!” Susie remarked. Joey just laughed in response.

“It’s not my fault you guys suck. And the game is literally called ‘Cheat.’ It’s kind of the point, Suz. Not to mention I have a great poker face.” He bragged.

Susie rolled her eyes at him, before looking over at you. “You know what? I think it’s time for an alliance. Your streak needs to be put to an end, Joey.”

“No, don’t do that. It always ruins the fun.” He said. “Well it’s not fun when you’re winning all the time.” She shot back.

He got up from the table, storming off and up to his room. “Oh c’mon, Joey, don’t be like that! We were just kidding!”

She frowned at you, letting out a long sigh. “I told you we shouldn’t play it.”

You opened your mouth to apologize, but got interrupted when someone walked through the door. It was Frank. His face was concealed by his mask, so you couldn’t see his expression, but he went completely still, as if he was a statue or something.

“You should g-” Susie started to say, before being interrupted by Frank. “What is she doing here?”

You could tell that things were getting tense. It seemed like Joey was right. So, before anything could escalate any further, you spoke. “I was just leaving. But you’re Frank, right? I’m _______, and I just wanted to say…thanks. I’ll get out of your hair now. Bye.”

You waved at Susie. She didn’t wave back. Then, you slipped out of the lodge, leaving, and hoping you can somehow find your way back to the campfire. You could probably just walk back the way you came..right?

–

Frank felt his heart race as he stood in place, not moving from where he first saw you. You talked to him. You smiled at him. You thanked him..There was no way you recognized him. You couldn’t have.

He snapped himself out of his daze, pulling his mask off and tossing it on the couch in frustration. “Susie, why the hell was there a survivor here? And why were you talking with her?”

“She’s my friend. She helped me and I thought it would be nice to hang out with her. What’s the big deal?” She remarked.

“The big deal is she’s not one of us. She’s not Legion. She’s not like us, and she doesn’t belong here.” He told her.

“I know she’s not a part of our group, but lately, staying around here has been pretty shitty. I mean, you and Julie are constantly fighting and things have been horrible. Is it really that wrong for me to want to make other friends?”

“How can you trust her? How do you know she’s not using you? That she’s not taking advantage of you?”

They were lies. He knew it. All he wanted was for Susie to doubt her relationship with you, and for you to stay away. Having you near was already making him feel things he shouldn’t, and he couldn’t bear it. He needed you far away from both him and his friends.

“(Y/n)’s not like that. What would she even try to take from me? If anything, I would be the one taking advantage of her.” She remarked.

“How do you know she’s not trying to get revenge and get you back for killing her?” Frank pushed.

“Because she saw me vulnerable once, and she helped me..When I first met her, I was walking around the woods and got caught in one of Trapper’s bear trap things. She could’ve hurt me more. She could’ve left me, but she didn’t. She helped me. She helped me, leaned up my wound and talked to me. She’s a kind person, and to be honest, I don’t even know why she’s here. Someone like her would never deserve this.”

Frank knew exactly what she meant. You hadn’t changed one bit. He let out a long sigh. “Just…don’t bring her around here again.”

[buckets-and-trees]

Happy Anniversary, Aspen! I’m so happy you joined tumblr and I have this opportunity to interact with you and read your wonderful stories 🥰🩵 now, can I please have a Truth for Sacrificial? That fic haunts me to this day 🥴 how did you come up with a Minotaur? What inspired you? Would you ever consider a sequel 👀

First, thank you for the ask, Suz! I'm kind of in love with you asking because, Sacrificial definitely has a story!

I'd been up at my parents' house for dinner and games for my mom's birthday, and I was fueling up gas for my drive home of about an hour. I was scrolling through probably tumblr, I'm pretty sure, and came across this:

AND WHEN I TELL YOU

THAT HIT ME IN THAT MOMENT SO HARD

AND I JUST

LIKE

I WAS OVERRUN WITH THE THIRST, AND I NEEDED TO SCREAM AT SOMEONE I KNEW WOULD JUST UNDERSTAND/GET THAT

AND SO I SCREAMED @rookthorne

AND SHE SCREAMED BACK

Like. Literally.

Content Warning: I'm going to share some of that now under the cut, and then as I kinda go into detail over the inception of this smutty story, keep that in mind and scroll past if terato/monster fucking is not your thing.

I have removed ... haha ... some of the dialogue to protect the innocent (haha, we're not innocent, but...yeah), but I'm keeping the development:

Aspen: The way, I just want a giant monster to devour me carnally Aspen: Not too particular about what kind of monster or demon Lana: fucking amen Aspen: It’s fine Aspen: Maybe my first week of Hot Bucky Summer with lingerie needs to be a human sacrifice for some demon or monster… or maybe a centaur Bucky with a wood nymph… Lana: oh - size kink go brrrrr Aspen: or maybe Minotaur Bucky Lana: I dunno both are fucking divine Aspen: I feel like a centaur would be more charming, but logistically not as fun to write for the sex Aspen: Minotaur who initially seems terrifying, and or repulsive, but because of the way, he fucks you, and whispers the most, will be possessive things in your ear… You end up, letting him willingly ruin you Lana: THIS IS KILLING ME

And then Lana DID figure out some very nice logistics for the Centaur sex situation, so then I was really about half and half. But then as my mind continued to spin possibilities, this thought hit me…

Aspen: Minotaur Bucky is it going to fuck the reader's throat Lana: OOF FUCK Lana: okay Aspen: I just feel like that’s definitely what he would do. Especially if she has been given up as a sacrifice from the nearby townsfolk of the village. Lives up to the expectations of terror… But then it turns out he’s going to treat her so well in the end Lana: "You are nothing but a toy for me to fuck, little lamb. Now open your mouth for me, or I will break your jaw opening it myself." Lana: OKAY WE WENT EITHER WAY THERE Lana: OOF Lana: MAYBE Lana: maybe he is brutish in the beginning... because he knows the villagers are watching 👀 Lana: cos they wanna make sure he takes to her [editorial clarification: they’re watching because they want to make sure he takes to reader as the sacrificial lamb] Lana: I am sorry I took that and ran with it 🤣🤣 Aspen: No, this is true, where my brain is going to… Perception of a brutal fucking monster who is terrifying to everyone so that no one bothers him and the reader that he takes away. Aspen: He will still be rough and brutal with her because he’s a monster, but he will also worship her in private and the aftercare for his pet/mate is ELITE.

So by the time I had an hour to think about the story, I knew most of what I wanted. It was the last ten minutes of the drive when I started to think okay...who is this reader and when and where is this happening? I needed her to have reason to have been even on the radar and able to have this happen, and I didn't want her to just be a pushover, and so that idea of her being a research scientist - a botanist, especially - who would have applied for a grant/fellowship? And the town could vet for a candidate that they thought would be perfect for their ritualistic sacrifice to the terrifying Minotaur to keep their village safe?

BECAUSE I CAN RARELY BUILD A PORN WITHOUT A PLOT TO GO ALONG WITH IT

I mean... I cold do it...

I could...

BUT WHERE'S THE FUN IN THAT?!

Okay, so back to that night.

I did a little research for geography. I had this idea that I wanted it to be in South America because of the wilderness/mystery that's still a reality with the Amazon, but even though I was going to write about a MINOTAUR AND THAT'S DEFINITELY A FICTIONAL CHARACTER, I wanted to be true to the lore for the kind of places you could/would find a minotaur. If I'm going to write fiction, I don't want there to be something that gives my readers qualms for suspending the disbelief that I need them to suspend in order to go on the rest of the journey with me. And...because I did the theoretical work, here's more than anyone really wanted to know when Suz asked this:

Exhibit A is from Wikipedia discussing areas of the world that have a "Mediterranean Climate" outside of the Mediterranean - since Minotaurs originate from Greece, I felt like this was the plausible logic to apply.

Here's a map of the Amazon Rainforest.

Here is the tiny speck where it could overlap in Colombia and an EVEN TINIER SPECK that sort of corresponds on the border of Colombia and Ecuador. Since it's probably not at all advisable for a single female to travel to Colombia or Venezuela, but maybe Ecuador would be reasonable, imagine that's where we are.

Once I had that sorted, I was READY TO GO, and....basically wrote on and off, staying up all night, from 11pm to I think 7:30am I posted it?

Now.

Final question: would I ever consider a sequel?

Absolutely. There are pieces in the story that I knew I was weaving in that I had ideas about that were intriguing to me to explore later. Like... more about Minotaur!Bucky's history. Why is he there? What's up with his hold over the village? How did they come to this arrangement, and what exactly are the parameters - our reader has literally only been read in on only what they couldn't keep from her, so there's A LOT there. Some of it I definitely already had notes on from the night of inception, but there were things I also left open so that it would be mysterious and fun for me to explore later.

OKAY.

SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT.

IF ONLY I HAD MORE THINGS TO GET CARRIED AWAY EXPLAINING FOR YOU.

Link to the List of Sleepover Games

[timandlucy]

✨🛒🍷

Thank youuuu babe!

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Argh you just had to didn't you? Not me sitting here for fifteen minutes thinking about this. I guess I like that I try to keep my characters in character, and I really try to make them sound and talk like they actually do. Whether I accomplish that is another story so...

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

I have a tendency to just write my ships really soft with each other, but this is especially true for Chenford, because they are the definition of soft love, I love them so much.

And I really like when one character comforts the other, so this can often be found even in fics that are not h/c per se.

🍷 Do you drink and write?

Hahaha I used to do that! Then I'd take a look at what I wrote and half of it wouldn't make sense... so yeah, drunk Suz - not the greatest writer, but can be a hilarious experience though hahaha.

[liam-summers]

3, 4, 19, 20, 21 🫶🏼💕

haha you picked some truly violent ones, Suz!

3. Screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

LOL do you have 100 years? There are soooo many takes I see that really make me wonder how someone could have formed that thought and then decided that it was a good idea to write it on the internet. I'll share one that I was told about recently. I didn't actually see it myself but someone told me about it and it goes a little something like this (I think?): Apparently Buffy is Angel's Riley because she is a rebound for Darla and he only really got with Buffy because she looks like Darla. Then, apparently, Cordelia is what Darla would have been like if life had been kinder to her, therefore, Cordelia is the perfect woman for Angel because she is an "improved" Darla.

Safe to say I'm glad I didn't see this take with my own two eyes because I think my brain would have malfunctioned. ANYWAY.

4. what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

I really don't have a last straw when it comes to blocking someone. I will block people for any minor thing that annoys me lol. It's not personal or anything but I just really value having a space where I can see the content I want to see and not see the content I don't want to see. I think everyone should be able to post whatever they want and block whoever they want for any reason, any time.

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

I can't really think of anything fandom related for this one. Outside of fandom, I fucking love Tiktok and it's so embarrassing but god damn is that app entertaining. Would not be able to get through the work day without it lol

20. part of canon you found tedious and boring

The soap opera that Angel the Series turned into when they started pairing off all the characters in S3. It's one of the most frustrating aspects of the show for me and it really diminishes my enjoyment of the show overall...I often dread getting to that part in my rewatches because I just do not care and it takes up so much space so there's no escaping it. The characters were a lot more interesting when the relationships were that of a group of friends just fighting evil together without the added drama of romance.

21. part of canon you think is overhyped

Once More with Feeling 😬

I get it. I get why the episode is important and I get why people like it. But I was never a fan of musicals and I never feel the urge to rewatch that episode. I also don't know any of the songs by heart and I have no desire to know them lol

Thanks for the ask 💖

[ohheypedrito]

Thanks for the tag @whocaresstillthelouvre, making this little guy was fun!

The game is post you picrew & the most recent song you listened to.

Giving a no pressure tag for my friend @suzdin (sorry Suz another tag lol)

I guess my girl is sad because this one of the saddest songs ever lol. Watermelon earrings because free Palestine forever and always. Cat tattoo because it’s me. She’s thinking about how fictional Javier Peña.

And here’s the song in case you’re in the mood to be sad.

[witchywithwhiskey]

Husband one night stand best friend: Lloyd, Cole and Johnny Storm 👀

thanks for sending these Suz! love the picks 👀

husband: cole - we'd have a meet cute at the farmer's market, start dating, fall in love and have a very nice, happy life together. truthfully, of these three, he's the only one i could actually imagine marrying.

one night stand: lloyd - maybe if he's very, very charming, he can talk me into bed with him. and i'm also very drunk. and he's not actually a murderer.

best friend: johnny storm - honestly, johnny's a bit too much of a showboat for me. i feel like he'd be a good friend, and good at encouraging me to get out of my shell, but i don't think i could deal with him in more than small doses. which sounds mean, but i'm just SO much of an introvert and he's an attention-seeking extrovert.

ahhh this was fun!! thanks again, Suz!

play "husband, one night stand, best friend" with me

[justreadingfics]

Trust Suz to make me smile when I'm least expecting!!! Thank you so much for reading this old little thing and still commenting ❤️❤️❤️.

I feel the same way about these two. I want them together and happy but also miserable, paying for their crimes! I think that's the reason why I've never written a follow up. I don't know what to do with them 🤣🤣🤣

His Girl (Revamped Version)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’re perfect. Anyone who could read his thoughts would say he’s cheesy, but he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in you. Well, maybe the only problem is the man by your side.

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Love Triangle, Pining, Smut, Revamped version of first fic written by the author, 18+.

Word Count: 4k.

A/N: Hi!! I’m sorry to say but this isn’t something entirely new. I’ve been thinking about revamping the first fic I’ve ever wrote for a while now. I love the story, but every time I read the original, it made me cringe for several reasons. I like this version better, but I haven’t sent this to a beta and you all know English isn’t my first nor my everyday language, so you may still find a significant number of cringy stuff, lol. If you read it and like it, don’t hold back on the feedback 😊 I’m tagging my permanent list.

Masterlist link on description.

Keep reading

[fandoms-writings]

Happy birthday, Remi! Have a wonderful day and get spoiled! 🩵🥳

Thank you suz!! <3 no spoiling today i don't think, its a monday and work has its claws in me for another 2 hours, but tomorrow i took off and i'm gonna go get pampered 😌🩵

[amandaoftherosemire]

Suz!! Have I told you lately that I love you? (Now that I've typed that, the song is playing in my head, and I don't really even like it, but now I'm stuck with it. 🤷‍♀️😄 Thank you so much for always making me feel appreciated. I would love to bother you more, but my social anxiety evidently extends to social media, too. I want you to know that I think you're just the coolest ever, and I want to bug you way more than I do, but I don't because I don't know how to do it without feeling like a dork.

So instead, I will admit here, in front of everyone, to being a huge dork who doesn't know how to not be a dork, or how to stop caring about that, even when it's mostly anonymous and certainly doesn't matter. That's better, right?

You know what does matter? You. And I think you're great. 💖💖💖 Happy new year, love. I call bright writers' blessings upon you, call on the muses to visit you soon. May this coming year bring you joy, and success, and all the words you need to tell the stories in your brain.