#this fic has gotten SO far away from me. Buck said i want to hold his hand before we talk

[iinryer]

tagged by @lemonlyman-dotcom for wip wed! ty!

i actually have smth to share because was possessed by a demon yesterday with an idea for a post-date fic and slammed out 3k words in one go. so I’m hoping i will finish this by tonight lol

—

“Yeah, but I—I ruined our date,” Buck says weakly, huffs an audibly self-deprecating sound that he thinks he meant to be something like a laugh, “I, um, I didn’t know…,”

He trails off, Tommy leans against the island next to him on an elbow, head tilted a bit towards his lifted shoulder to look at him. To give his full attention. Waiting, Buck realizes, giving space for Buck to say what he needs to say, to hear what he’s thinking.

But the only words he can find are, “I didn’t—I didn’t know…,”

Tommy seems to see him getting lost, so he says, “Know what? Know that your first date on the other team might be overwhelming? Or that it would get crashed by your coworker? Or even that you might feel some kind of way about that?” he smiles, easy as anything, and teases kindly, “I don’t see how you could’ve known any of that,”

Buck lets out an exhale in a rush, ducking his head, helpless to stop the beginnings of a bashful smile from peeking through, and makes himself peer back up, “Yeah, I—I guess so,”

“Well I know so,” Tommy says, eyebrows doing a very pointed dance, before breaking out into that light grin again, “You couldn’t have, and neither could I. That’s kind of how life works,”

—

tagging @gayeddieagenda @sibylsleaves @colonoscopys @try-set-me-on-fire !!

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Better Than Revenge

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: uhhhh in accidentally posting the wrong thing I think I wrote the wrong request at some point so you know what there’s gonna be a bonus story okay. OKAY now that I’m reading this I’m- I think- I did the request wrong and uhhh….. well here’s you know evidently another bonus fic I hate everything 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Eddie can literally hear Buck laughing all the way to the truck, okay maybe not all the way but a damn good ways down the hall that’s for sure

He has no fucking clue how he got locked in a closet, but he did. At least he wasn’t alone… he looks over at you, sitting with your ankles crossed on the floor. Your head hung so low he can’t bear to look at you anymore without asking 

And he really shouldn’t. 

He should just keep to himself, he should just-

“Are you okay?” 

Dammit Eddie. 

“Huh?” You look up at him, your face stained with tears and it breaks his heart, his Mexican, telenovela, hopeless romantic heart. Because you’re so pretty and you smell so good and is this stupid room getting smaller?? 

Okay, that was a bit much but you get it. He gets on one knee, pulls his glove off with his teeth, and reaches for you, tilting your head up

“Hey… hey what’s going on? Are you hurt? Did something happen??” 

His inner hero is practically clawing at its enclosure to save help girl, this really really, pretty girl. 

And your inner…. Uh, something is clawing at its enclosure to jump this man. 

“No! No, it’s- not it’s nothing like that” you laugh awkwardly, wiping at your tears quickly. “I- I'm sorry” You shove those thoughts very very (not) very far away as you try to control your tears 

“No please, don’t apologize… are you okay?” Eddie comes to sit next to you, plopping down on the cement floor. He takes his helmet off along with his other glove and gets comfy… they’re gonna be there for a while. 

“I’m… yeah I’m fine” you sniffle, shrugging your shoulders weakly. He nods slowly, looking down at his helmet in his hands 

“You know…. If you tell me the truth-“ he picks it up, setting it down carefully on your head “I’ll let you wear the helmet” 

You snort, nudging him with your shoulder and shaking your head slowly “I’m not five oh my god” you giggle as you hold the helmet on your head and look up at him 

“Yeah, but it got you to smile didn’t it?” He shrugs off his jacket, the room may be small but it is entirely concrete and entirely underground, he can feel the chill in the air as he puts it over your shoulders, the frayed, distressed shorts and oversized crop top not really cutting it down here. 

You hug the jacket to your body, sticking your arms through the holes. It smells good, kind of smokey, kind of earthy, definitely something that’s probably signature him.

“Alright, I’ve given you my coat, and my hat. Now you gotta tell me what’s wrong” he nudges you back and you smile a little more, rolling your eyes 

“Okay fine. I came to visit my boyfriend? He’s got an office near almost the top floor. Well… uh- it was supposed to be a surprise! But you know… imagine my surprise… when this fucking asshole has his secretary bent over his desk!” 

Eddie’s mouth drops open when you say that, he splutters, gesturing wildly and you nod vigorously 

“Yeah!!! And she knew he had a girlfriend! She knows me!!!” 

He gasps so loudly it echoes around the room

“Are- are you?!!! Are you shitting me?!” He grabs his radio from his jacket, clicking it 

“Buck?… oh my god Buck I have tea” 

You fall against him laughing as Buck answers back 

“Oh my god, spill” 

Eddie repeats back what you said, and Buck is gasping wildly, reacting absolutely ridiculously 

“Oh you tell me what the fuck this asshole looks like”

“No no I-“

“I’m not gonna beat his ass yet. I just want to know if he even stuck around” 

You roll your eyes, describing him and Buck scoffs “Oh. That guy.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He was worried about his office. Said he’s got a nice set of golf clubs he’d gotten for his birthday in there, his prized possession”

Eddie looks at you as you blink back tears “T-that’s all he said? That’s all he’s worried about?” You ask, your voice cracking and Eddie has to look away for a second 

“Uh yeah… I’m- I’m sorry kiddo, maybe he doesn’t know you’re in there. Let me find out okay?” 

“Okay” 

You set the radio down and stare at the wall, just waiting quietly. Eddie reaches out for you, catching a tear as it falls down your cheek 

“He probably doesn’t know” 

“He does” you sniff, wiping at your tears and sighing loudly “No. he uh- he fucking knows.” You laugh bitterly 

“Y/N come on there’s no way he-“

“He fucking knew” Buck growls back into the radio and Eddie picks it up 

“Are you shitting me?!” 

“It’s okay!” Buck perks up “I punched him in his stupid fucking face!!” 

Your head whips to the radio as Eddie laughs “You did what?!” You squeak your face lighting up 

“Oh, Buck I could kiss you!!” 

“Give it to Eddie for me, I’m sure he’d love that” 

“Oh my god she’s not gonna-“

“Bet” 

You pull him toward you, kissing him slowly, his hands come to your waist immediately, squeezing lightly as he kisses you back. He moans quietly into your mouth, his lips moving in sync with yours and you purr softly. You pull away a little and he follows you, making a little “nuh huh” noise, and you giggle, letting him cup the back of your head, kissing you deeper. Your hand comes up his chest, fingers pulling at the bottom of his hair when Buck clears his throat 

“A-are you guys actually kissing?” 

Eddie lets you pull away this time, letting his head rest against the wall behind him as he stares at you. You stare back, your cheeks pink as you wet your lips 

“Uh- no?” Eddie answers back and you snort 

“That was not very convincing,” You and Buck say in unison. You giggle and go to stand up to stretch your legs out when there’s a sudden loud rumbling noise 

“Edd-“ the radio buzzes as the sound gets louder 

“Y/N! Come over “ He yanks you down into his lap, pulling you tight into his body as he turns you both over, shielding you. A few panels fall loose from the ceiling around and you scream when something giant hits the door, putting a large dent in it  

“Eddie?? Eddie, are you okay? Y/N?? Anyone??” 

You sneeze as the dust settles, and Eddie pulls away from you 

“That’s your sneeze?” He coughs a little and you punch him in the shoulder 

“What’s that supposed to mean!” 

“Oh nothing… little kitty” He coos and you pick up one of the ceiling panels and threaten to hit him with it 

“Please, please anyone??” You hear Buck’s voice. Watery and worried 

“Buck? Hey, it’s us we’re okay it’s us. What happened??” 

“Oh thank god. Oh god Eddie the building settled, you guys are…. A bit more stuck. Is everything okay in there? Is Y/N okay?”

“Yeah, she’s okay. We’re both okay, just a little dusty… how much is “a bit”?”

“We’re gonna need a crane,” he says bluntly and Eddie groans 

“And we’re not high enough on the list are we?” 

“List?” You ask quietly 

“As long as neither of you are hurt and everything is still structurally sound? No.” 

Eddie sighs and looks at you “Other people need that crane more than you and I do”

“So now we’re really really stuck huh?” 

“Yup” 

It’s been two hours since the door had been blocked. You’ve got your head in Eddie’s lap as he strokes your hair slowly, listening to you talk. You’ve both gone back and forth, discussing a lot of different things, a lot of deep things that a stranger knowing wouldn’t really hurt anything…

“You think one day you’ll feel normal?” You ask quietly, picking at his pants and he shrugs, looking down at your hair around his lap 

“I don’t know” 

“For what it’s worth? I hope you find your peace Eddie… I really do” you mumble and he smiles softly 

“I dunno… this has been pretty peaceful” He chuckles quietly “Thanks uh… thanks for listening”

“Hey? What are “locked in a closet” buddies for?” 

You sit up, giving him a little kiss on the cheek, and push yourself up. He looks at you as you stretch above him, admiring your plush curves from his position on the floor. 

It wasn’t the first time the conversation had turned a little steamy, a little flirty. But it was the first time he’d felt a little bit of a pull toward you. Especially after the things he’d just told you, for the first time, he felt heard… he felt seen. Not to mention that freaking kiss, he couldn’t take his mind off of it, the feel of your lips against his, the way your body felt against him. 

“You know uh… you’re really beautiful. I can’t believe Jared fucking cheated on you.” 

Your cheeks flush as you look down at him, he’s sat between your legs, his ankles crossed. There’s no harm in letting you know how pretty he thinks you are…

“You uh… you really think so?” You blush and he nods slowly 

“He’s never seen you in a fireman’s uniform huh? Never seen the way it drowns you.” 

“Well I mean- he’s not as big as you are” 

You mean how tall he is, how… big his arms are, how broad his shoulders are- 

“I didn’t think he was… leaving such a pretty little thing like you”

“Are you flirting with me?” You turn away, toward the blocked door, and you hear his legs uncross, widening his stance. 

“Maybe? Would you mind if I was?” He twiddles his thumbs and you turn back, reaching down and grabbing his gloves, he watches you slide them on, drowning in his work outfit and it’s doing things to him if he’s being honest. Is this a kink? It feels like a new kink. 

“It’s helpful… in- in a moment where I’m not feeling so hot you know?”

“Are you joking?? You’re gonna let that asshole make you feel like you’re not the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen? To ever exist??”

You laugh a little “Oh come on Eddie? The-“

“Hottest.” He interrupts you not even giving you room to fight him 

“I still think you’re just saying that. But thank you” You give him a little bow and he pulls you down by the jacket and you stumble onto his lap 

“Hey be careful! You might-“ 

He presses his lips to yours, his hands coming up and cupping your face. You shortcircuit for a second and he smirks against your lips. He takes your hands one by one sets them on his chest and nips at your bottom lip when you curl your fingers around his shirt 

“Now you’re getting it” He whispers breathily before slipping his tongue past your lips, taking full advantage of your floundering and exploring your mouth. His hands start to roam, sliding beneath the oversized coat and gently across your bare middle. He hums appreciatively as they come up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers trailing across the bottom of your bra 

“You can tell me to stop” He kisses down your jaw, biting on the nape of your neck and you gasp softly, melting into his body 

“N-no fucking chance. God, you’re kissing me better than he ever did” 

Eddie looks up at you as he sucks and nibbles at your collarbone “Bet there’s a whole lot of things I can do better than he ever did…” His hands cup your breasts, squeezing gently and massaging them slowly 

“We’re alone… and it seems like we’ve got time…” You trail off, your cheeks blushing and you feel him grin against your skin 

“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” 

“That depends on what you think I’m suggesting” 

Eddie takes the radio from his jacket again “Hey Buck, you there?” 

“Always” 

“Is Jared out there?” 

The line is silent for a moment and you take that opportunity to surprise Eddie, rocking your hips forward on him and attacking his lips. You kiss him frantically, your hands threading through his hair and pulling him closer. He chuckles wickedly, pushing you back onto the floor and settling between your legs, you struggle out of the coat and he laughs, helping you get it off 

“Eddie?” Buck's voice comes through the radio and he stretches to reach for it while unbuttoning your shorts at the same time 

“Here” He answers, watching you desperately unbutton his shirt 

“Why do you have so many!?” You hiss and he snorts, just ripping it open the rest of the way 

“Better??” 

You’re practically drooling over his chest, his skin smooth and tanned. You blink slowly as Buck comes back 

“Yeah, he’s definitely still here. Trust me, I’ve been making him feel as guilty as possible. I gotchu Y/N”

You pull your shirt over your head, and Eddie bites his lip 

“Damn…” 

you grin wickedly as you pull your arms from your bra straps, pushing it further down your waist and out of the way, the cool air around you causing your nipples to pebble 

“Jesus fuckin-“

“Eddie?? You there?” 

You reach forward and click the button “He’s here. Thanks for making Jared feel guilty!” 

Eddie takes your breasts in his hands, kneading them slowly, squeezing and teasing your nipples. He leans forward, kissing the valley between your breasts, pulling them together, and rubbing his face against them. He bites the sensitive skin gently, leaving teeth marks and little bruises behind. Your breath hitches, tugging at his hair and egging him on to do it again and again. 

“Fuck you’re hot” His hips grind down into yours and your thighs shake 

“I want you, Y/N” 

“Hey guys if you’re doing what I think you’re doing, Revenge sex is the way to go. Trust me I’ve been telling Jared all about how amazing and cool and sexy Eddie is!” Buck squeals through the radio and Eddie rolls his eyes as you giggle 

“Thanks, man. Thank you, uh we’re just- we’re-“ You shimmy out of your shorts, revealing the tiny thong you’d put on as a surprise and now it’s Eddie’s turn to short circuit. He stares at the sheer material covering your dripping sex. He drags his finger over the top of them, enjoying the way your slick coats his finger 

“You’re???” Buck radios and you reach forward, taking the radio back 

“Let that asshole know he’s been replaced” 

You toss it aside, Buck is making some weird strangled screaming noise and screaming at Jared when the radio cuts off. Eddie’s pants are off as fast as he possibly can and he’s stroking his cock between your thighs 

His eyes darken as he lines up his cock with your entrance, pushing inside you slowly. You’re tight, and he relishes the feeling of being inside you.

“O-oh my god- Fuck” You wriggle under him, adjusting to his size as best you can “H-holy sh-“

“Bigger?” His voice is so haughty and confident and you nod quickly, squirming 

“Sooooo much bigger” 

“You gonna be okay?” He puts his hand on your tummy, pushing you back down and you gasp loudly “Need more time?” He asks teasingly as his hips start to move slowly.

You shake your head, reaching for him and he grins, leaning into you as you rip off his gloves and claw at his back, your body arching into him eagerly 

Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts, his hips moving in slow, deep thrusts. He kisses your neck, his other hand gripping your ass, guiding his cock in and out of your wet heat.

“You feel so good,” he pants, his pace picking up. He’s relentless, his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust. Your legs fall open wider, your body bouncing with each snap of his hips. 

Eddie grins, feeling your legs spread wider, giving him better access. He picks up the pace, his thrusts now brutal, his cock slamming into you with every movement. “You like that, don’t you? You like it rough?” He growls, his hand gripping your throat, squeezing gently.

You’re so close, the building tension threatening to explode. Eddie can feel it too, his own release building with each thrust. He pounds into you, his grip on your throat tightening, the combination of pain and pleasure driving you both over the edge.

Eddie moans your name, his cock pulsing inside you as he comes. You cry out, your body convulsing as you reach your own climax. He holds you close, his breathing heavy as he rides out the aftershocks.

“Damn, that was hot,” he pants, his cock still buried inside you. 

“S-so- so-“ You sound delirious as he releases your throat and pulls out, leaving a trail of cum between your legs. 

“Fuck” He mumbles as he falls next to, pulling you into his arms. You curl into his body, nuzzling your nose against his chest and he buries his face in your hair 

“Uh huh” you giggle, your voice muffled 

“I- I realize” he clears his throat “We uh- we did this a bit backward… but Buck is having a cookout this weekend…you wanna be my date?” 

“Will there be other sexy firefighters?” You look up at him and he rolls his eyes, chuckling and giving your butt a little spank 

“Not as sexy as me… will you do me the honor? Y/N” 

“I’ll be there… you want my number?” You grin sleepily 

“Mhmmm” He turns over, covering you more with his body to keep you warm “Need your address too so I can pick you up” 

“What a gentleman” You giggle and he kisses your nose 

“Can I ask you somethin else?” 

“Uh-huh” 

“You uh…. Think you might be okay with just skipping to being my girlfriend?” 

“That depends” You murmur, your voice becoming a lot softer as you start to fall asleep 

“On?” He gives you a little nudge so you wake up 

“If you don’t mind skipping straight to being my boyfriend?“

“Oh hell yes” 

You’re not really sure how long you've been asleep, but Eddie is shaking you gently. Your clothes are back on properly and you’re wrapped up in his jacket still. He’s got his clothes back on and his shirt is as closed as he can get it. You can hear the sounds of the crane working to get you two out 

“Time to leave?” You ask, rubbing your eyes and Eddie gives you a thumbs up 

“Time to leave baby girl” 

Your cheeks flush deeply, It had felt like a dream honestly, you weren’t even sure it had happened. But when Eddie grabs your hips and kisses you again desperately you know it wasn’t. 

The door flies open and slams against the wall, you shriek as you pull away, covering your eyes from the sunlight on your face

“Y/N!!!, Eddie!!” 

You recognize the voice from the radio as he comes over and scoops you up, hugging you as tightly as he can 

“You’re okay!!” 

Eddie gets up from the floor, groaning loudly and stretching his back “I am too damn old for this” 

You snort as Buck picks Eddie’s helmet up off the floor and sets it on your head 

“You ready to get out of here cutie?” Buck takes your hand and you look up at Eddie who shrugs his shoulders 

“I’m ready” 

Buck helps you out carefully, climbing over a few pieces of debris left in the way. 

“Hey, you sure you didn’t get hurt?” He’s standing in front of you, his hands on your hips as he steadies you. Eddie lands on his feet easily, adjusting his shirt again to try and keep it closed 

“What uh- what do you mean?” You ask as you shrug off Eddie’s coat and hand it to him 

“You’re walking funny, honey. And you wince every time-“ He stops for a minute, his eyes widening 

“Did- did you guys actually-“ 

He’s interrupted by a man calling your name, he’s got a black eye and you slap your hand over your mouth 

“You seriously punched him?!” You laugh to Buck as Jared comes over 

“And it’s so worth the amount of trouble I got in” He snickers as Jared stops in front of you 

“Baby?? Baby, are you okay?” He holds your arms, looking you over and you blink slowly

“Are you kidding?? I thought when I ran out of your office screaming that we were over? That was enough to let you know Hey! We’re over!” 

“Baby, what are you talking about?” Jared chuckles awkwardly “That- that didn’t happen, honey”

Buck whirls on him and he flinches a little but keeps his eyes on you. Eddie is sitting quietly in the back of the ambulance being looked over 

“Uhhh what??” You scoff in bewilderment 

“Gosh Baby” he laughs, “I think you hit your head, sweetie” 

Your mouth drops open and you shove Jared away 

“I know- I fucking know” you shout “You are not trying to convince me I didn’t see you fucking Angela!!!!” 

“Y/N honey you need to calm down. This is not the way my girlfriend should be-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Eddie is up and he’s on the ground. It happens so fast you’re not even sure you saw it, Eddie punched him right across the face, sending him spinning to the ground 

“I think you mean my girlfriend. Come on gorgeous let’s go get something to eat I’m starving.” 

Buck runs in circles screaming and pointing at Jared as Eddie puts his arm over your shoulders and you proudly lead him over to your car. 

“Yo you just got yo ass WHOOPED” 

[thetokentrans]

Bobby Nash is a Good Man

(I wrote a new fic! It's an alternate take on the scene between Eddie and Bobby in S5E18)

AO3

Eddie fought against the urge to fidget as he waited for Bobby to open the door. The last time he had shown up unannounced, they had really gotten into it. This time was different, but still could potentially end similarly. Eddie let out a sigh, putting his hands behind his back and channeling his military training, to give his brain something to focus on. His posture righted itself. He shifted his gaze to the floor for a moment before the door opened and Eddie snapped his attention to the face of the man behind it.

"Eddie!" Bobby said, voice surprised but warm, though also slightly guarded.

"Bobby." He smiled and raised his hands in the air in a sign of surrender. "Promise I don't have any transfer requests in my hand."

Bobby chuckles and responds, "Alright, then you can come in." He moves to the side to let the other man into the house.

"Can't stay long, I need to pick up Christopher." He says as he walks into the living room of the Grant-Nash home. He paused, turning to look at his Captain - rather, former captain - before continuing.

"But um, I wanted to say… Jonah wasn't your fault." Eddie stared Bobby down, trying to hold his eyeline, his brown eyes serious.

Bobby's face was grave and his voice had a bit of an edge to it when he responded, "Eddie."

"No, look. I spent the last few months trying to put away a lot of things from the past and move on." Eddie interrupted Bobby, wanting to say his whole piece before he lost his nerve. "What I've learned is, you can't carry someone else's weight. It'll take you under."

Bobby stared at him, a shine to his eyes. "I'm the Captain. My responsibility -"

"Is your team."

Bobby sighs, but Eddie continues, prepared to talk over his captain - former captain, Eddie mentally corrects himself yet again - if he tries to speak again.

"But he was on the 118 for what… a few weeks?" Eddie's gaze never wavers from Bobby's eyes as he speaks, determined to make the words sure the words stick. "You barely knew him. You think you missed something? All of those other cities, those other houses. Everybody missed something." His voice was soft but determined.

Bobby shook his head and gazed at Eddie with glassy, red-rimmed eyes. "This happened on my watch. He killed Claudette, and who knows how many others...."

"Because he thought he was a god. But he's not." He paused for a moment, before adding, "Neither are you. You're not all knowing and all seeing, Bobby. You're just a good man."

This last line makes Bobby break eye contact with Eddie, shaking his head as he looks away for a second.

"I'm not. I am not." His voice is strained as he says this, and the pain in it makes Eddie's heart hurt.

"You saved my life. And my son's."

And it's the truth. If Bobby hadn't hired him, he wouldn't have met the 118 - his chosen family. He wouldn't have met Carla, who have him the tools to improve his son's life. He wouldn't have met Buck, who would do nearly anything for Eddie and Chris. Who felt like home.

"So… whatever responsibility you take for Jonah, make sure you take some credit for me. You earned it."

Eddie looked at his watch and realized he was running late. He hadn't intended to leave Carla alone with Chris and his gaggle of friends for too long.

"I've gotta go." He walks past Bobby and starts up the stairs toward the door.

Of course the thoughts of the 118 brought him to thoughts of Buck - it never really took much for Eddie's thoughts to drift to his best friend. But he thinks about how far Buck has come even in just the short time Eddie has known him, and how much of that is thanks to Bobby having confidence in his abilities and giving him space to just be. Buck really is even more a testament to how good of a man Bobby is than Eddie, he realizes. Does Bobby know that?

"You also saved Buck, too, you know. I don't know if he'd ever admit it." He turns around as he speaks. "But…You've raised and cared for him more in the years he's been in the 118 than his parents ever did. You helped him break through his need to put on a façade, and really become himself. So take some credit for that too, Bobby. I think, really, if you look at the whole of the crew at the 118, they, we, outweigh the whole Jonah thing."

Eddie can't help the tears that start streaming down his cheeks, can't help how strained with emotions his has become. Part of it is the pain of realizing that one of the best men he's ever met can't admit that he's a good man. But the other part is just. Buck. And he doesn’t allow himself the space to think about that for too long.

"You provide this space for all of us to shine together, and separately, you know? To try to be better, constantly. That little family unit makes running into those scary situations a lot easier." He takes a deep breath before adding, "That's one of the things I miss most, really."

An image of Buck and himself in their turnout gear flashes in his head, Buck's hand on his shoulder and - though he can't see it, he's sure it's there - megawatt smile on display, pointed in Eddie's direction.

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have one of the most important people in my life, Bobby." This part was almost a whisper, meant to be more for himself than Bobby, but he can see the small, teary smile on Bobby's face in his peripheral vision.

Eddie shakes his head, wiping away the tears and clearing his throat before continuing. "So try to remember that, the next time you feel the need to count your sins. You saved me, in more ways than one, when you took me on. When you pushed Buck and I together." Eddie takes a deep sigh before turning back toward the door. "Now I really need to go."

Bobby had turned to face Eddie when he walked toward the door initially, but at some point when Eddie hadn't noticed, Bobby had also walked closer to where Eddie was perched at the top of stairs.

Bobby enveloped him in a tight, but brief hug, murmuring a "Thank you" before releasing him and slapping him on the shoulder.

"Alright, now get outta here." Bobby joked, his eyes still red rimmed but less glassy.

Eddie nodded once before letting himself out.

[bisamwilson]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

also tagged by @writerkenna!!

thanks y'all for the love <3

5 fics + excerpts!

wish that i could wind (like a spiral stair through time)

“Five o’clock sharp every morning, baby,” he’d said, over half a century ago now, his voice weak and his bones weaker, holding onto Bucky’s far less wrinkled hand with all the strength he still had. “Early morning exercise is important for old men like us: keeps us living longer.” Bucky has lived fifty-two years, three months, and twelve days longer than Sam had ever gotten to, and, running his hand over Sam’s side of the bed, his favorite blanket kept pristine even after all these years, he thinks living longer is the last thing he’d ever want. He still gets up at five to exercise every day, though. After all, Sam had asked him to, and who is Bucky to deny Sam anything he asks, even all these years later.

2. my convenience store dream boy

The most definitely real heat gets stronger for just a moment, disappearing when Cap puts on a friendly smile. “Can’t say I pegged you for an optimist, Bucky,” he says, holding Bucky’s phone out. Bucky takes it back without looking away from his face. “I’m not, usually. Only when there’s something—or someone—worth inspiring my optimism.” Bucky’s probably gone too far on the side of “hammy,” but Cap’s still interested enough for him to think he didn’t quite blow his chance. As a matter of fact, he’s a little too interested, really, because this is going to give Bucky ideas—the dangerous kind, the kind that’s gonna break his heart someday, he’s sure.

3. put some mustard on it

Sam notices the heightened restlessness too, he’s sure, but that comes along with Bucky agreeing to go on morning runs with him more often as well as an exponential uptake in random warm smiles, so Sam probably doesn’t say anything in worry of breaking that particular spell.  Every time he thinks about that ring he just breaks out into a grin, and every time Sam asks him to come along he doesn’t want to miss a single second. Smiling, running, being with Sam, looking at his ring from Costco. That’s most of Bucky’s life these days. And buying and subsequently wasting mustard, of course. He’s been too busy thinking about the ring to stage that intervention.

4. but it feels like there's oceans between you and me

Usually pleasure rolls off Bucky in waves in times like this, the initial slow push almost more satisfying to him than the explosive finish, but now Sam feels a frenzy of emotions, entirely at odds with Bucky’s calm approach to fucking him.  Fear. Relief. Anger. Worry. Something Sam might call “love” if he didn’t know better.

and, of course,

5. (it's your kiss) hey princess

There’s a noticeable pause between Sam’s steps at that, but Bucky effortlessly leads them back on track. “I appreciate dropping formalities, but I gotta say, ‘Bucky’ does not exactly fit with the handsome noble vibe you’ve got going here.” Bucky spins them around in a move that is surprisingly easy but leaves Sam a little breathless. “Childhood nickname that stuck. My middle name’s Buchanan, which is somehow even more unfortunate than Bucky, but my younger sister, Becca, had issues with it when she was young. It came out more similar to ‘Bucky,’ and that’s what I’ve been called ever since, at least by the people I’m close to.” “We’ve met so recently, Buck, one might think it’s a little sad that I’m already included in those ranks, even if I’m not complaining.” Bucky dips him low and leans into his ear, whispering, “We’re not quite close yet, Prince, but you’ll forgive me for hoping we get there.”

[doctorstethoscope]

Ladies Night || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hi all, celebrating @ssahotchswife’s feral Monday with this self indulgent fic based on an ask I sent last week. 

18+ CONTENT MINORS DNI

contains: praise, excessive teasing, unprotected penetrative sex, alcohol consumption 

wc: 2k

The call comes in around 1:30 in the morning, just as Aaron is packing away all the paperwork he brought home for the weekend and getting settled into pajamas. Strangely, though, the name on his screen reads Prentiss, not yours, and the adorable selfie you’d taken with Jack and left on his phone was not lighting up his screen. His mind quickly takes him through all the worst case scenarios, but he shoves them away as he brings the phone to his ear. 

“Hotchner,” he answers. 

“Hey, Hotch.” Emily says back breezily. “Hope I didn’t wake you.” 

“No, I was up. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Your girl’s about to take off in an Uber, though, and I figured I would save all of us the lecture about getting in a cab alone at night and just have you come get her.” 

Aaron shakes his head fondly as he grabs his keys off the counter. “I thought she was staying the night at your place?”

“That was the plan, but she’s had her fair share of margaritas and she said something about a pregame for Jack? Hotchner, I didn’t think I needed to tell you this, but he’s too young for the hard stuff.” 

Aaron scoffed as he locked the door behind him. “His pregame breakfast, Emily. For his soccer game. She makes his eggs and toast and fruit into a little face, and Jack thinks it’s  lucky. I could have handled it.” 

“Well, you can have that argument with her when you get here, but she’s pretty out of it, and was determined to be home before he woke up.” 

“I’m on my way, don’t let her into an Uber.” Aaron says as he starts the engine of his car and pulls out of the parking lot towards Emily’s place. 

“I know better.” Emily says before hanging up.

The roads are empty, so Aaron’s drive is brief, and he’s knocking on Emily’s door in less than ten minutes. JJ is standing on the other side, and she shoots him an apologetic glance. 

“We may have let things get a little out of hand here,” she confesses 

“How out of hand?” Aaron asks, following JJ towards the living room.

“You might want to make sure you have pedialite at home.” She tells Hotch as they both enter the living room.

He finds you sitting on the floor, your back against the couch as Garcia braids your hair. Your eyes are shut, but you can’t be sleeping, because your face is split into a grin.

“Okay sweets, you’re all set,” Garcia says, securing the braid with an elastic, and you open your eyes. 

“Aaron!” You say, finding him leaning against the wall and smiling down at you. You stand up far too quickly, and stumble into his arms— he secures you with a hand wrapped around your waist.  “You didn’t have to come get me baby, I was just going to call an Uber.” 

“We can have that conversation in the morning, dear,” he said, squeezing at your hips. Even as drunk as you were, you could tell that that idea hadn’t gone over well with your decidedly overprotective boyfriend. You do what you can to soften him up a bit. 

“Thank you for rescuing me from the terrors of Quantico, Virginia. My handsome hero,” you flirted shamelessly, giggling and rising up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Aaron’s lips, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck and curling your fingers into his hair. 

Aaron smiles as he pulls away from you, much more mindful of all his coworkers milling about the apartment than you were. “Say goodnight to the girls, hon, and we’ll head home.” 

You make your way around the apartment, bidding the girls goodnight with hugs and promises to host next time, before making your way back to Aaron’s arms so he can lead you out to the car. 

“I know you think I was just being silly, but I meant it when I said you looked handsome.” You told him as you fumbled with your seatbelt. 

“I’m in my pajamas,” he laughed at you as he pulled out into the street. 

“I know. I like you like that. All ruffled and undone,” you told him, reaching a hand over to run through his hair, then down his chest, resting your hand over the crotch of his grey sweatpants. 

“Darling—“ Aaron warned you. 

“Come on, you came all the way out to get me. I think I owe you one.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“You don’t owe me anything— the peace of mind of having you here with me is enough.” He tells you genuinely. 

You leaned over the center console to whisper in his ear. “If you think something as sweet as that is going to talk me out of wanting you, you’re crazy,” you told him, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against his neck, and smirking to yourself as you saw his grip tighten on the wheel out of the corner of your eye. 

You settled back into your seat, but left your hand against his upper thigh, drumming your fingers against him every so often. You could tell that you were getting to him, could see the tension knitting away at his brow, and truth be told, you could feel the way your own boldness was affecting you, too. 

After what felt like an eternity, Aaron finally parked the car, and you unbuckled in an instant. 

“Race you inside!” You said, taking off with a laugh and stumbling your way to the door.

“You’re lucky you didn’t fall,” Aaron chastised you with absolutely nothing behind it after watching you drunkenly zig zag through the parking lot.

You shrugged as he unlocked the door and you went inside. “I knew you’d catch me.” 

He reached for your hand and tugged on it, catching you against his chest. “And I always will,” he told you, ducking down to kiss you as he fumbled with the door behind you, pushing it shut. 

“I want you,” you whispered, bucking your hips against nothing as you brought both your hands up to wind your fingers in his hair. “I want you so bad,” you confess as he moves his mouth from your lips to your neck to your collarbone.

You start moving backwards towards the bedroom, but Aaron has other plans. He picks you up by the waist and sets you on top of the kitchen island, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it towards the couch. You throw your head back as he starts to plant wet kisses against your chest and brushes his thumb over your exposed stomach. 

“So needy, huh darling? We’re you thinking about me fucking you as soon as I came by to pick you up?” Aaron asked as he took your bra off, punctuating his question by pulling one of your nipples in between his teeth. You gasped out at the sensation, but quickly groaned as Aaron stepped away from you entirely.

“I asked you a question, angel.” 

“Yes,” you whimpered out, desperate to feel his hands on you again.

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, I was thinking about you fucking me as soon as I saw you at Emily’s.” 

“Naughty girl,” Aaron smirked, stepping back towards you and taking your other nipple in his mouth, lifting a hand to occupy your other breast. 

You groaned, simultaneously loving and hating his propensity for teasing. 

After a moment, he pulled away, redirecting his mouth towards inner thighs, moving his way up towards your shorts. Your thighs tensed in anticipation, and Aaron let out a dark chuckle. 

“You poor thing. You must be soaked and I haven’t even taken off your shorts yet,” he said, rubbing his nose against the seam of your jeans, the thick fabric pushing against your clit and making you jump.

“Oh, fuck. Please, Aaron. Please touch me.”

“Oh, but doll. I’m having so much fun teasing you.” He said, pulling you off the counter and pulling your shorts and panties off in one fluid motion. He turned you around to bend you over the counter, wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself. You could feel his hard cock through his sweatpants, and you ground down against it. 

“So impatient,” Aaron tsked at you as he slid his sweatpants off, taking his cock in his hand and running it up and down your slit. You let out a little whimper, and he chuckled. 

“You know I’m just going to sit here until you beg. I could do this all night, sweetheart. 

“Please, please, please. I want you so bad. Please, please put your cock inside me.” 

“Say my name,” he commands, and your knees buckle. He tightens his arm around your waist so you don’t fall.

“Aaron, please fuck me. I need you.” 

He’d never deny you of something you needed. You knew that. He entered you deliciously slowly, stretching you gently even though you were so turned on he could have made his way in with no issue. 

“You feel so good, baby,” Aaron says as he pulls out of you just as slowly as he entered, and then begins to pick up the pace. 

You arched your back against him as he continued to thrust, changing the angle just enough to make you cry out. Aaron moves a hand from your hip to cover your mouth.

“Do you like that, pretty girl?” He asks, and you nod, although apparently the question was facetious. “I know you do, but you need to be quiet. Can my little slut hold her tongue or do I need to gag you?” He asks, his pace unrelenting as he does.

You swear your eyes roll back into your head— you’re not sure what’s gotten into Aaron tonight, but you’d better figure it out so you can get him to act like this more often. 

Aaron removes his hand from your mouth and you bite your lip.

“Good girl,” he praises you, and you keen. He wraps his now free hand around your waist and brings his fingers down to play with your clit lazily. You gasp, but cover your own mouth before you can let out a moan.

“Good job, princess. You’re being so good for me. I’m going to take such good care of you.” Praise flowed freely from Aaron has he picked up the pace on your clit, and soon you’re bucking into his hand. 

“Aaron,” you hissed out. “feels so good, baby. I’m gonna—“ 

“I know, angel, I know. Go ahead and come on my cock. You’ve earned it.” He assures you, pushing your hair to the side so he can kiss your neck tenderly. 

Your orgasm crashes into you, and Aaron works you through it, your pleasure triggering his relief. You bracket your elbows on the counter so Aaron doesn’t have to worry about holding you up, and he does the same, so that his chest is pressed against your back but you’re not bearing his weight. You take a few moments to catch your breath together, and then Aaron reaches across the island for a paper towel, wiping you clean as he removes himself from you. Once you’re clean and the paper towel is disposed of, Aaron spins you around and plants a kiss to your lips.

“You go ahead and sleep in tomorrow,” he tells you. “I’ll take care of Jack’s breakfast.” 

You smile up at him and shake your head. “Not a chance. It’s not lucky when you make it.” 

He rolls his eyes at you with a chuckle as he gets you a glass of water. “If you ever want to get lucky again, you’d better drink this and get to bed where I can’t hear your sass.” 

“Oh, but the sass is half the fun,” you whined teasingly, taking your water in one hand and his hand in your other as you dragged him to bed.

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea. 

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job. 

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside. 

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in. 

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless. 

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief. 

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself. 

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically. 

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit. 

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was. 

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot. 

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening. 

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred. 

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit. 

“I can’t believe you,” you said. 

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought. 

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it. 

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum. 

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?” 

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. 

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked. 

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you. 

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled. 

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?” 

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment. 

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment. 

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room. 

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced. 

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly. 

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out. 

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit." 

"James," you whispered. 

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.  

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt. 

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front. 

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you. 

Bucky fell in love. 

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material. 

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him. 

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly. 

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly. 

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly. 

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right. 

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon. 

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening. 

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal. 

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled. 

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times. 

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled. 

“Bucky,” you whined. 

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky. 

“I got you, darling. I got you.” 

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours. 

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew. 

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy. 

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted. 

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled. 

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly. 

You like being choked by Bucky. 

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips. 

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again. 

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled. 

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum. 

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet. 

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body. 

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room. 

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away. 

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast. 

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him. 

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever. 

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled. 

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him. 

=======================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101-blog

@l-sofiamia-l  

@pluto-grrl-blog

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@povsmarvel0720  

@missroro

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

@bucknastayyy38

[gotnofucks]

Lover’s Quarrel

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: You have the powers to resurrect if you’ve been murdered, and a jealous Steve Rogers indulges heavily in your abilities. He would not let you steal his best friend, that was for sure. So what, if your rivalry regularly caused fire and harm to public property? You just couldn’t let the other win. 

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers, violence, killings and murders (but reader cannot die, it’s weird. She has some sorta powers that help her revive when she’s been murdered), language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Is this crack fic? Idk. Maybe?

The sixth time Steve killed you, you decided he needed to be dealt with in a similar way. It doesn’t matter that he cannot come back from the dead like you. He just needed to go. You were tired of him offing you every time he felt threatened by your existence. But this was the last straw. He had pushed you off the Quinjet while flying home from a mission and you’d fallen into the lake and drowned. You would NOT recommend dying that way.

Bucky had dragged out your dead body and watched over you as the blessing of the necromancer worked its magic over you and brought you back to the world of the living. The first words out of your mouth as you spewed out water were, “I am going to kill your best friend and you can’t be mad at me for that.”

Bucky, far too happy to have you back – poor guy still mourned every time you died – ignored your comment and pulled you into a hug. He’d never quiet gotten used to seeing you die. You patted his back, muttering a few there-there’s until he was calm enough to press quivering kisses on your head and temple.

“You need to stop dying.” He said into your hair, holding you close.

“I would not be dying if your best friend didn’t murder me every time! He is a menace, Buck!” You cried in exasperation. The said best friend was watching you from a few yards away, and he rolled his eyes as your words reached him. He scoffed loud enough for you to hear and you sharply turned your head to glare at him.

“You!” You shouted, quickly standing up and marching over to him. “You rascal!” And then you pried out your wet shoe from your feet and threw it at his stunned face. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit his face but smacked against his chest, leaving the wet print of your soles against his far too tight t-shirt. He gaped at you open mouthed before baring his teeth in warning.

“Oh god, every time you come alive again, you’re even more awful than before!” Steve shouted, and then just because he is fucking drama queen, he threw out his hands. You sneered before turning to look at Bucky meaningfully, the most obvious ‘see what a dick he is’ look on your face.

Bucky shuffled uneasily, caught between your quarrel once again. He came behind you and gave you his jacket to wear to shield you from the cold. And just like that, your anger melted a little. Somehow, with his steel blue eyes, Bucky Barnes could sooth every wound you’d ever had. Even those given to you by Steve Rogers.

“I am so sorry. I should have seen what he was about to do. I wouldn’t have ever let you fall had I known.” He apologized and you swore your heart physically quivered. You pulled Bucky into a hug, hiding your face in his chest, savoring his arms coming around you to hold you tighter. You could have stayed in his embrace forever, but it was an annoyed groan that ripped you both apart.

“Is there any way you can stay dead a little longer?” Steve asked, breaking your moment. “I mean, I’ve tired a bullet and knife and water and poison. What can I do that you’d be gone for just a little longer?”

He was worked up, a red flush creeping on his face and neck. Pacing, he was muttering, and you wondered for the millionth time how Bucky could be friends with him. He was just so extra! You wanted to tell him to shove a stick up his ass, along with the one already there when he turned swiftly like the wind and threw a dagger at you. A metal hand caught it before it could hit you and you were pulled into the warmth of Bucky’s body quickly.

“Steve! Cut it out.” Bucky yelled, glaring at Steve. “You will not kill her again. I don’t care if she can come back alive again. You won’t hurt her.”

With that, he dropped the dagger on the ground and walked away with you. Unable to resist, you looked over you shoulder and flipped Steve off. Fucker could kill you a hundred times and yet he would not be able to do anything. As far as you were concerned, Bucky was as much your best friend as his. And if Steve Rogers couldn’t control his jealousy without trying to behead you every time he felt you were stealing Bucky from him, you would just have to make his death look like an accident.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that you can’t kill him either?” Bucky said teasingly, his eyes soft and fond. “I need you both to survive.”

You groaned, bumping your shoulder in his and snuggling into him as a cold breeze hit your wet clothes. He could read you like an open book.

“You are no fun Barnes.”

There was rubble and fires and shrieks. Natasha was yelling in Russian as she ran about with a fire extinguisher and Clint crawled out of his vents to help Bruce out who was turning a dangerous shade of green. Tony was sitting in the ruins of his kitchen, his mouth half open as he spied on the ensuing battle in the middle of it.

Sam was using his shield to push Steve away who was shouting curses that had probably not been invented yet. Bucky was holding you back by your middle, yelling in your ear to calm the fuck down but all you could think of to do was smacking Steve’s face with that chair that was currently on fire. You suppose once everyone was calm, you’d feel guilty about your part in destroying the Avengers kitchen but right now that wasn’t important.

What was important was that Steve had tried to kill you. Again. He had actually thrown a fucking grenade at you. You barely had the time to kick it away where it exploded in the kitchen and then Steve was on you, calling you a bitch in all the 9 languages he knew.

“Calm the hell down, Steve!” Sam yelled, struggling to keep Steve at bay from you. You were glad to see that Steve’s nose was busted. That will teach the bastard to ‘look down his nose’ on you now.

“She pierced my ears! The fucking bitch pierced my goddamn ears!” Steve yelled. Even you had to admit, the golden hoops looked amazing dangling from his ears. Just perfect.

“You are lucky I didn’t stick a knitting needle in your eye Rogers!” You sassily replied, “The only reason you’re still in one piece is because I promised my best friend that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

The muscles in Steve’s arms tensed and Sam groaned, barely keeping his own footing. A dark shadow seemed to have crawled over Steve’s face, turning the blues of his eyes an angry shade and had you been a weaker person, you would have trembled. This was the face of someone who had stood against armies alone and came out victorious. But for all you cared, he could kiss your ass.

“He is MY best friend. Mine. Not yours, not anyone else’s. Bucky Barnes is mine and I will kill you a thousand times until it sinks in your thick skull!” Steve growled. You scowled, a scathy remark bubbling on the tip of your tongue when you suddenly stopped. Why say when you can show? So, looking Steve directly in the eyes, you went limp in Bucky’s arms, turned around and cupped his face. And then you kissed his cheek.

Steve let out a strangled cry behind you, but you focused on Bucky who was blinking in disbelief at your audacity. And so, just for the heck of it, you kissed his other cheek. And then his forehead.

“Bucky Barnes, you are my best friend and always will be!” You said, hugging the life out of him. You heard Steve break away from Sam, heard Bucky yell out a curse and holding you protectively as his jealous pal came rushing to claim him. And all through that and the chaos that ensued later, you just smiled broadly.

Tony was giving a lecture, and he sucked. He gesticulated too much for your liking, and you really didn’t like how he kept emphasizing things by looking pointedly at you. It wasn’t even that much of a big deal, and even if it was, it was not your fault. Like every other time, the only person who could be held responsible was the blond super soldier sitting beside you, wearing the same shade of annoyance on his face as yours.

“I repeat” said Tony, his hair askew, “we do not use Friday to settle idiotic, absolutely ridiculous personal vendettas!”

“You have Friday tell you how pretty you look every day!” You countered and Tony slammed his hand on the table.

“Because I am!” He huffed. “You, on the other hand, stopped a mission in the middle to ask Friday who had a higher score! I mean, what the actual fuck? And what score?”

Steve had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. You however didn’t put up with any of that nonsense. It was his idea anyway, and you wouldn’t take the fall for him. Not when Tony looked murderous like this.

“Rogers bet me he’d take down more enemies than me. We only asked Friday to keep a count. I had literally nothing to do with it.”

Tony turned the ire of his glare at Steve who was too busy giving you a dirty look. He was just pissed you won, and that Bucky had spent the entire ride back tending to your wounds rather than Steve’s. It wasn’t your fault his jealous ass always threw a fit whenever he saw you and Bucky together.

“You said the team could use Friday as we saw fit.” Steve said, though he did look a little guilty. It wasn’t like him to lose command and control. Even when he’d been Captain America, he had never let anything rattle him. Not until you had come prancing in his life and stealing his best friend.

“I said the team could use Friday, not stop everything in the middle of a high risk mission to see who has a bigger dick.” Tony said, and then he just collapsed in his chair. Poor guy had been working too hard to carry the team forward, and in that moment, even you felt guilty. Your rivalry with Steve shouldn’t have to affect everyone else, not when they had been so welcoming and loving to you ever since you joined.

You walked over to Tony and dropped a kiss on his head, caressing his hair. “I am sorry Tones. You won’t have more trouble from me.”

Tony looked at you as if seeing an angel. He looked at you as if you were the solution to all his troubles. Despite every furniture of his you’d broken and set fire to, he was so grateful to have one sane voice between them. Cupping your hands, he looked imploringly at you and asked, “Really? You’re gonna stop fighting with Steve?”

At that, you solemnly nodded and patted his hand gently. Poor him and the poor team going through hell because you and Steve couldn’t settle your differences. It was obvious what had to be done.

“Of course I will” You said magnanimously, because of course you were the better of the two. “Steve just needs to find another best friend and there won’t be any reason to fight anymore.”

If any of them had been drinking water, they would have spit it out. Since they didn’t, they just kind of choked on their saliva and sputtered at you in absolute disbelief. Tony actually looked betrayed and Steve seemed to have licked a lemon, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“She” He said, voice thick with contempt, “needs to go away. We can launch her in outer space or somewhere from where she can never return. You know why? Because Bucky is my best friend. Since we were yay high!” And he raised his arms a foot off the ground to show just how high.

And just like that, the moment was gone. Rogers opened his mouth and any goodwill you had had went poof. So, you did the only reasonable thing any sane person would do right now and that was to flip him off and call him a pig. You knew he was inching to strangle you; you could see his fingers twitch. A part of you was anticipating it, for Bucky would never forgive him for killing you again. Just as he would have lunged at you, push Tony out of the way and did you away for good, Bucky burst into the room with the expression of a cantankerous 100 year old grandpa who had had enough with the world.

“For fucks sake! Just shut up you both!” He yelled and paced the room. His eyes were bloodshot and hair disheveled, a clear sign that your rivalry was taking a heavy toll on him. Steve opened his mouth to say something when Bucky raised a finger to shush him. “No no no! You listen to me you oblivious, utter moronic fucklets!”

Your mouth dropped open. Bucky never cursed at you. He had never called you a fucklet before.

“You two need to stop. You hear me? You need to STOP!” He raked a hand through his hair before kicking the ground in frustration. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep! I can’t fucking breathe without you both arguing over who is a better friend to me. So, here’s an idea. Instead of fucking me over in the middle of your sexual tension, why don’t you find a room and fuck each other? Because I tell you now, I cannot fucking take it!”

Silence sat pregnant in the room. You blinked at Bucky. Steve blinked at Bucky. Tony blinked at Bucky. And Bucky didn’t blink at all.

“That – uh – what?” You said, eloquent as ever. “That is so stupid.” And you laughed awkwardly.

Steve glanced at you and then stammered, “What? That – I haven’t – that has nothing to do with it. She and I – what?”

You both found each other’s eye, quickly looked away and just became silent. The tension in the air was suffocating you, and a terrible heat was settling in your stomach. Without another word, you walked out of the room, muttering about how ridiculous the whole idea was. The three men watched your exit, and a moment later, Steve left too, still very much in disbelief.

Tony and Bucky sighed, sitting across from each other and just taking in the fact that the elephant in the room had finally been address. A moment later, Tony began drumming on the desk, looking up at the ceiling.

“I couldn’t have put it any better myself.”

You felt antsy, as if staying one more moment in your room would drive you mad. You kept jerking your legs and arms, a weird restlessness in every action of yours. What the hell was Bucky saying? The sheer nerve to imply that you…you and Steve had some sort of feelings for each other. You hadn’t heard that kinda crap since you nursed your nephew who’d had diarrhea.

The only reason you and Steve fought was because you wanted Bucky. He was supposed to be your best friend, and clearly it was his inability to decide who he preferred more that had led you here. And to pretend, on top of that, that it was you who was at fault was just ridiculous. As if you’d touch Steve Rogers with a ten foot pole.

But…would you? You suppose he couldn’t be that bad to touch. He did have gorgeous eyes that got all dark and dilated when he fought with you. And his breath hitched when you got him mad and he bit his lip to stop from cursing you and he flushed a very becoming shade of red that started from his cheeks and disappeared down the neckline on his tight shirts that –

Holy fuck!

The realization rocked your world. What the hell? When you thought about it again, it seemed as if you’d just described Steve being aroused. Did you really fight him and got him mad to stimulate yourself? Oh god. Bucky was right. You wanted to fuck Steve.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. You quickly changed into your work out gear and rushed to the gym, intent on sweating out whatever feelings you might have for Steve. After all, nothing says fuck you like imagining someone’s face on a punching bag and just going to town on it. Thankfully, when you arrived the gym was empty.

You’d been working on your stretches for only a few minutes when your worst nightmare entered the gym. He probably had the same idea as you and froze the moment your eyes met. His blue eyes narrowed at you and you stood up straight. You hated Bucky for putting the thought in your head. Now all you could think of was tackling Steve to the ground and fucking him senseless. You still wanted to beat him, but in a very different way.

As Steve entered, his eyes fixed to your form, you decided it was time to leave. After that fiasco in front of Tony, you didn’t think yourself capable of talking to Steve. Staying alone with him was something you didn’t trust yourself with. So you picked up your bag and started for the door when his voice stopped you.

“Running away? Am I to believe that there is something that finally scares you?”

Anger, red hot anger simmered under your veins when you turned to face him again. He had a mocking smirk on his face that made you grit your teeth. His eyes, dark and challenging beckoned you to him, but they didn’t hold resentment there either. Something between you had changed today. The very air around you was different, thick with tension and apprehension that had your nerves tingling.

“Scared?” You scoffed, dropping your bag on the matted floor and walking until you stood right before him. He towered over you in height, but he’d never been able to actually look down at you. “Me, scared of you? You wish Rogers.”

One corner of his lips lifted up, and he put his hands on you. One hand hooked around your waist and pulled you closer, the other trailing a finger down the side of your face to your neck, following the path down your arm until his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Oh, I so do wish” He whispered and his lips met yours. You rose up on your toes, mashing your body against his and mapping the planes of his body with your palms. The smell of his sweat and soap surrounded you, your arms coming to hold him around the shoulders as he hitched you up so you could wrap your legs around him.

Like everything in your relationship, the kiss was explosive. You didn’t melt against each other like people do in books; you collided like two warring armies intent on conquering the other. You collided like night and day, basking your surroundings in the dawn and dusk of your lust. Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, smiling as you shamelessly moaned.

“What do you say?” He asked, pushing you against the wall, his hardness digging between the heated center of your legs.

You pulled him closer, letting your lips trail over his jaw and neck before you branded him with a quick bite. “You’ve always been so aggressive Steve, let’s see you let loose some other way. I sure do hope you fuck better than you fight though, or I’ll just be disappointed.”

Steve growled, kissing you again as he ground his cock against you, trapping you between the wall and his hard body that prevented any escape. Your hands slipped under his t-shirt, meeting the firm muscles on his abdomen that rippled under you. He pulled back just enough to allow you to remove your clothes, his own being flung sideways without any care.

Even before, you’d never thought of Steve as anything but beautiful, but now, seeing him in all his glory, you could only look him up and down in appreciation. He was trembling slightly, as if holding himself back with effort, his eyes not leaving you for a second. You both looked at each other, naked and unashamed before frantically coming together. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your ass and thighs as his lips pulled at your breast.

Your fingers rolled his nipples softly until he moaned, and then you pinched them. He jerked under your touch, kicking the back of your knees so you collapsed down, and he covered your body with his. Anger, arousal, lust and longing, all emotions built together in a storm of incoherent desire that had you both rolling over each other, fighting for dominance and power. Steve pinned you down with effort, holding your wrists in one hand over your head as he gave a smug smile to you.

“Will you finally surrender today?” He asked, positioning his cock at your entrance that was drenched. You would have loved to taste him, to have him taste you, but as of now, all you wanted was for him to slide inside you. You hungered for him, burnt for his touch. For years you’d been left wanting, and now with the prize so near, you weren’t about to wait any longer.

“The only surrender today will be yours.” You whispered sweetly before slamming your head against his. Steve jerked hard in surprise, allowing you the opportunity to free your hands and roll over him. You sat on his pelvis proudly, his throbbing member right underneath you and as he blinked at you, stunned, you rose up over his tip and slowly sunk down.

Steve groaned as your wet channel fell like velvet heat along his shaft. You had never been so full before. He stretched your limits, as he had always done, and you decided you very much preferred rendering him speechless like this under you than your usual punches and throws. His hands dug into your waist, helping you bounce on his cock and you threw your head back at the feeling.

It was a beautiful ache, one that took your breath away. As you rolled your hips and clenched down there, Steve’s voice rose in appreciation and you grinned. You finally had the golden boy at your mercy. You fucked him, changing your pace to punish him, never letting him up. For every time he killed you, you bit on his lips and neck, marking him. It was punishment and cherishing, a culmination of feelings you didn’t understand.

“Touch me.” You brokenly said, and his fingers found your nub. The slapping of skin, the sounds of debauchery and the smell of sin filled the air. You leaned over him to meet his lips, the heat in your gut bubbling until you snapped and came atop him, falling blissfully. It was one moment of weakness and the world titled, Steve having finally pushing you on your back.

“You’ve always been strong, because I’d hate to break you when the fun has only just begun.” He said and thrust into you hard and fast. He was an animal in heat, a man possessed, and you didn’t mind one bit. You met his every thrust with a raise of your hips, you clawed at his back until he bled, your lips tasting of the salt of sweat and tears and desire. He brought you impossibly closer, looking right into your eyes as he took you.

For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t get enough of his grunts and moans, of the breathy whispers of your name that slipped between curses, of the way his lashes would flutter over the dark blues that kept your eyes captive. He had you completely in that moment, mind and body; and for some reason, his gaze felt infinitely more intimate than his cock that was currently spearing you open. You keened in pleasure, whimpering as he touched your overly sensitive clit and had you coming again.

A minute later, he twitched inside you, his warmth flooding your core and you sighed. You laid entangled and sweaty, both of you spent and tired and yet completely overtaken by the urge to be closer still. To think this is what you’d both missed for all these years.

“So, what do you say, still feeling aggressive?” Steve asked and you looked at him with a grin that you couldn’t have suppressed had you wanted to. Oh yes, some battles were never meant to end, but they sure could be altered to meet new demands.

“With you? Always.” You replied, kissing him deep until he couldn’t think of anything but you. “Just remember one thing.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“I am still a better best friend to Bucky. I did fuck you to keep him happy after all.”

Steve frowned darkly and before you could blink, he was over you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I think this time I’d fuck some manners into you.”

“I think this time you should actually put your back into it. I did all the work before.” You taunted and he dived at you.

Meanwhile, in Tony Stark’s office

“Friday, what’s the score?” He asked smugly, offering Bucky the packet of blueberries. Bucky was sitting with his feet on the desk, a small smile on his face.

“I am afraid I am not at a liberty to say Boss.” Friday replied. If the AI could blush, she would.

“Seems like they are at an impasse.” Tony suggested, and Bucky shrugged, licking his lips.

“Well, some things never change.”

[jackrrabbit]

Runaways /// Dabi x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You were like an older sister to Dabi back when the two of you were teen runaways together; now that he’s found you as an adult, it’s not going to be so easy to get rid of him.

A/N: I could write a term paper on all of Dabi’s pathologies in this fic...I forgot how much I love writing smutty angst. Good shit 👌

I was planning on making this a ficlet so it’s kinda structured like that even though it ended up a full-length piece. Also, Dabi says some bullshit about sex work that I absolutely do not agree with or condone so please keep that in mind.

➠ see also: [homeowners association]

Tags/warnings: Dabi victimizes you, noncon/dubcon, light yandere, threats, cheating, NTR kinda?, mentions of past sex work, degradation, rough sex (breath play, impact play, crying), mild violence, very brief mentions of past child abuse in the Todoroki household, sad stuff/angst idk lol, *Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood plays in the background*

Dabi would know you anywhere.

You’re different now, which makes sense. It’s been years. Your old uniform of raggedy denim and hand-me-down leather has been replaced with a prim linen dress, designer label at the collar. You used to dye your hair religiously (it was neon pink when he saw you last) but now it’s styled back to your natural shade, a color he only saw back then when your roots grew out. You smell good, expensive. It does take him a second to recognize you without smudged pencil eyeliner drawn under your eyes like in the old days, but once he catches your gaze the realization is immediate.

It’s you. You. You.

You recognize him too, but your reaction is different—shock, then panic; you tug the arm of the man at your side, urging him to walk faster so you can pass Dabi on the sidewalk. The rejection stings for a second, but he isn’t too surprised. You did abandon him, after all.

Dabi doesn’t let it bother him. You’re not going to get away that easy. He pulls you into conversation, grinning when you reluctantly introduce him to your companion (who is, apparently, your husband) as an old friend from school. You didn’t go to school—Dabi knows that, and you know that, but your husband doesn’t. Which means your husband isn’t aware of your sordid past as a runaway.

This is going to be fun.

Once he knows you’re in town, he doesn’t have much trouble finding you. Your husband is a very wealthy man, well-known in this city now that he’s moved here. So this is what you’ve been up to all these years? Shacking up with some ugly motherfucker who’s at least 20 years your senior because he can afford to dress you up in pretty things and take you on overseas vacations? Dabi has to admit, he wouldn’t have thought it of you. Back when he knew you, you were so sincere, such an idealist, even in your darkest nights.

Then again…you always were willing to get your hands dirty in exchange for a warm meal and a place to sleep. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you think.

Dabi comes to your house in the middle of the day when your husband’s at work and you’re stuck at home because that’s what you are now, a housewife. From a cocksucking whore to a pretty housewife with a dirty little secret. He’s getting hard just thinking about it as he watches your internal debate on whether to let him in or not. Eventually guilt wins out and you usher him inside, hoping the neighbors didn’t see a known villain lurking on your doorstep.

You make Dabi coffee (and aww, you remember exactly how he likes it). He gets you to talking, and you don’t seen surprised to learn about his current line of work; when he presses you, you admit that you’ve been following him in the news. Your life, in comparison, has been wholly uninteresting: you met a man, he proposed, and you married him. Very little has happened to you since. After a long silence you timidly apologize to Dabi for leaving him behind when you two were teenagers, and he tells you he understands.

He doesn’t forgive you.

Overall, things are good, he tells you. But you know, sometimes he misses the old days. Being on the run with you, stealing food from gas stations, breaking into fancy summer homes and pretending the two of you lived there. Stitching up each other’s cuts, because one of you had always gotten in a fight in the past few days. Sometimes he still has dreams about the smell of the balm you used on his fresh burns…and your cool hands, smoothing gently across the tender skin on his face, but he doesn’t say that.

You look down into your monogrammed coffee mug and tell him you know what he means.

When you turn your head like that, Dabi can see the tiny dots running up the side of your ear where your old piercings have scarred over from lack of use. Do you remember when he gave them to you? You did his first, running a needle through the lonely flame of your lighter (he offered to use his quirk, but it was still hard for him to control then so you declined) and then threading the metal through his ear. You promised it would only hurt for a second, and you were right, so he let you do the others.

Then you offered to let him do yours. Just one on each ear—you already had an impressive collection of piercings, but you wanted to let him return the favor, so he did. You were older and more experienced and had lived on the streets for longer, so when he held the needle in his hand and heard your voice saying you trusted him, it was the first time he ever thought of you as fragile, something delicate, something that he was capable of harming.

He chose twin helix piercings for you, cresting the shell of each ear, silver band rings to match his. When they were done you pulled him to a mirror and asked him what he thought. It hadn’t been long since he got the worst burns on his face (the ones under his eyes, wrapping around his chin and down his neck) and he was still getting used to the knowledge that the ugly, wrinkled scars were never going to heal. “I look like…” he started.

A monster. A freak. A victim.

“A badass,” you said. “You look fucking cool. Any asshole who wants to pick a fight with you will take one look and know you’ve been through worse shit than whatever they can dish out, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Now that Dabi thinks about it, he probably wanted you even then.

…But the longer he reminisces, the more nostalgia’s going to distract him. He came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to have coffee with you and talk about the good old days. What he’s about to take from you—what he’s about to make you give—is long overdue.

You’ve still got a little fight in you. Dabi likes that. But you’ve gone soft, filling out and losing muscle in places where you used to be lean and hard from the constant running and fighting of your old lifestyle. Besides, even if you were as strong as you’d been back then, he’d still be stronger than you—he’s a man now, and it’s incredible how small and weak you seem now that he can look at you as a man.

Were your punches always this light? No way…and your wrists couldn’t have always been this delicate. It’s really no trouble at all for him to wrestle you down to the couch and pin you there so he can tear off your stupid little housewife dress and tug your panties down past your ankles.

Once he’s got you fully naked, though, you pretty much give up trying to fight him off. It’s sad, really—like you’re remembering the past, remembering all the times you let other men hold you and fuck you just so you could have enough money to take yourself and Dabi to McDonalds for a few days. And now look, you’re plenty well-fed, but Dabi’s the one holding you down against your will. Funny how things change like that.

He does appreciate your submission, since it gives him the chance to get a decent look at you. The years have been kind—you look so much healthier than you used to. No more visible ribcage stretching out your skin; no more unhealthy pallor from going outside only at night. Your hands are as soft and manicured as if you’ve never done a day’s work in your life, a far cry from the bitten nails and bloody knuckles of your youth. It’s good to see you like this, and he lingers for a second, drinking in the sight of you and committing you to memory.

Dabi’s pictured this moment for years. He used to think he’d savor it, be sweet with you, slow and gentle to show you what you were missing with the trashy guys you used to hang out with. But now, hey—he’s the trashy one, he’s the one who wants to hurt you and own you and ruin you. May as well act like it.

Your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?

You’re unbelievably tight for a former whore. Dabi can barely hold out when he first pushes into you, licking the tears off your cheeks when apparently it hurts too much for you to keep up a brave face. It takes real effort to fuck himself all the way into you, pushing past the tense squeeze of your muscles while you…well, you’re not exactly wet, but he’ll get you there. As soon as his hips are grinding up against yours, he’s hitching your legs up on his shoulders and pounding you into your stuffy antique couch so deeply that he thinks it might splinter into pieces underneath the two of you.

God, you’re so, so, tight. Dabi feels like a virgin with his cock buried inside you, biting his lip so he doesn’t cum in thirty seconds and thrusting into you with a rhythm that comes from nothing less than pure animal instinct. And you’re getting into it too. Can you tell that your pleading and begging him to get off you is turning into moaning? Can you feel your hips bucking weakly back against his, reverting to the position of the submissive bitch your body remembers even if your mind has tried to forget?

It’s perfect, right and good and perfect, everything Dabi’s been waiting for since he first knew what it was to want someone—no, not just someone. You. It’s always been you. A person never forgets their first love, right? It’s perfect, except—except you won’t look at him, you keep looking off to the side and sniffling, and that’s not going to cut it. So he slows down and wrenches your head back to center and makes you kiss him, sliding his tongue over yours and trying to see if he can feel the place where you used to have a piercing there, too. It’s kind of thrilling, actually—wondering whenever his face dips into yours if you’re going to bite him, if he’ll come back from you with blood in his mouth.

He’s only got to thumb over your clit a couple times before you’re clamping down on him, your body begging to be used and abused. Your husband hasn’t been treating you right, though Dabi doubts the old bastard can even get it up without a blue pill. Sure, you look like a sweet little doll, so darling and delicate and breakable, but Dabi knows you better than that. You’re strong, you can take it. He knows you want it rough, so that’s how he’ll give it to you—and hey, hey, he can feel your cunt quivering around him—you’re cumming, aren’t you? So you like it. You like it.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long before, but when you cum and tighten and squeal so high he thinks you could lose your voice, the tension in his abdomen rises up and he digs his fingers into your hips and—shit, you’re saying something, what are you saying? You’re pleading, begging him not to cum inside—but, ohhhhhh fuck he can’t help it, he can’t, he can’t, he’s cumming all the way deep into your tight little snatch, cockhead jutting up at your cervix, fucking his semen all the way through you until your slit is smeared white from top to bottom.

Stop crying. Dabi’s sick of hearing you cry.

You’re still pretty nimble, even though your current exercise regimen probably doesn’t extend beyond periodic jogs around your neighborhood and weekly pilates with all the other bored trophy wives. He’s kind of surprised when as soon as he lifts himself off of you, you have the strength to roll off the couch and scramble around on the floor for your clothing.

You don’t say anything, which he wasn’t expecting. You don’t scream at him, demand that he leave, or ask him how he could do this to you after everything the two of you went through together. You probably still think of yourself as an older sister when it comes to him.

When you’d first met the scarred kid trying and failing to live off the streets, you knew he wasn’t cut out for this. He’d known pain before, plenty of pain (icy-blue fire roasting the skin off his face—spiral fracture from callused hands twisting his arm behind his back—cold, aching muscles after what he thinks is the fifth hour spent locked in a closet), but he’d never known hunger. Hunger was a different kind of beast, one that would chew the kid up and spit him out and leave him broken if you didn’t take him under your wing, so you did.

It wasn’t like you had much of anything to spare, but you made it work. For a few years. He didn’t talk at first, but he took what you gave him, so you gave him what you could: food, if you had it; a place to sleep at night; the knowledge you’d gathered in your own years as a runaway on how he was supposed to survive in a world that didn’t care whether he lived or rotted away in a gutter. You cared.

Until you didn’t.

‘Going to be traveling alone for a while. Don’t wait for me. I’m sorry,’ your note had read. You left it in his backpack along with $43 in cash—not much, but he knew it was more than you could afford. It was all you had.

And now you have all of this! Don’t you feel lucky? You have the rich husband who barely looks at you, the big house with so many empty unused rooms it makes him sick, more food than you could possibly eat in one lifetime. All of that, and you also have Dabi’s semen leaking out of your cunt. It’s a real rags-to-riches story, he thinks.

Dabi picks a cigarette out of his jacket and you stop fixing up the buttons on your dress to ask him not to light it inside. How will you explain the smell to your husband? Every move you make, every syllable that comes out of your mouth, is weighed down by despair. You look like you’ve been beaten.

He lights the cigarette anyway.

///

Before he had you the first time, Dabi thought once would be enough. Pretty naive, huh?

He makes it his mission to fuck you in every room of your husband’s gluttonously enormous mansion (what with your history Dabi has a hard time thinking of the house as yours, and considering the way you tiptoe around and seem like you’re afraid to move so much as a vase, he suspects you feel the same). There’s a lot of rooms.

When he shows up at your door again you don’t even bother to hear him out, instead just trying to shut it on him, but he forces his way in. You wouldn’t want to make him mad, would you? Not when he’s got such a filthy secret hanging over your head? Will your husband keep paying for your designer shopping trips when he knows you’re a street rat who used to steal everything she wore? Will he still kiss you goodnight when Dabi tells him you used to wrap those pretty lips around strangers’ cocks for money?

If you want Dabi to keep quiet, you’re going to have to convince him the best way you know how. A cockwhore is a cockwhore. That’s not the kind of stain you get to wipe away with time and distance and expensive clothing.

In the kitchen: standing up, your back to his front and your hands barely holding you up on the counter, so hard and rough and deep that the dishes are rattling in the pantry. One of your teacups falls out of the glass china cabinet and shatters into a million fragments in a four foot radius over the tiled floor. Neither of you notice until after. Blunt red lines press themselves into the tops of your thighs where he’s shoving your body into the edge of the counter and there are bruises on your tits from how hard he’s groping you.

In the dining room: sitting on the edge of the table, one of your legs hiked up beside you and the other on a chair while Dabi kneels on the ground in front of you, his head between your thighs and his tongue flicking over your pussy. You start off thinking that you’re going to have to sanitize the entire mahogany surface before you can eat off it again and then he licks his lips and sucks on your throbbing clit and you don’t really think about anything else after that.

In your husband’s study: doggy-style on the floor in front of the fireplace, facedown, his body folded over yours, pressing you so deep into the tacky lion-skin rug that you can taste it. He sighs in your ear—actually, you’re not sure if it’s a sigh or a growl—and his hand comes up to cover yours. You feel the metal stitches and the rough burned skin scraping on your own and it reminds you that it’s him. It’s Dabi.

(A few days after his 13th birthday, the Dabi you used to know told you that he was going to dye his hair—he wanted to be unrecognizable, and you understood, so you found some old scissors and stole hair dye from the pharmacy and you spent three long hours chopping his hair into rough spikes and painting it black. When you washed the dye out of his hair in the sink, your hands were stained inky black too. When he saw, he looked worried and weaved his fingers in with yours and asked if the dye would hurt your skin if it stayed on too long.

And you looked back at this kid—small for his age then, burned by his own quirk, trying so hard to look older and tougher than any 13-year-old should have to be, and you thought to yourself, I would die for you.)

Now you hear Dabi growling out your name and squeezing your hand as he reaches his climax and you think, I would kill you if I could.

///

Dabi saves the master bedroom for last.

Your husband is hosting a party at your house. Dabi knows because you begged him not to come today, looking up at him with those doe-like eyes, offering things you never would have offered if it weren’t important to you that he stay away on this particular evening. But he still comes to crash it. He arrives just minutes before your husband does, and you have barely enough time to tuck him away on the dark bedroom balcony and pull the curtains closed before your husband is opening the door and greeting you.

Dabi settles himself into one of the tasteful Adirondack chairs on the balcony and listens to your voice, or at least what he can hear of it through the sliding glass door. You’re sweeter with your husband than you are with Dabi, and he should’ve known you’d be, but it still makes him hate your husband more than he already did.

On the other hand, there’s something strained and high and nervous in the way you’re speaking. Probably because your husband is standing about twenty feet away from the man you’re cheating on him with.

It takes a while for the two of you to dress for the party, but finally Dabi hears you tell your husband that you’d like to take a little longer to get ready and bid him goodbye. “Love you,” you say to the old man as he leaves the room, so casually Dabi might not have heard it if he wasn’t listening.

Then you’re opening the door and ushering him inside and telling him anxiously that he has to get out before anyone sees him. But, oh, you look nice like this, dolled up in your evening gown and makeup and diamonds, trying to pull him to the door even though you must know by now that he’s not going to leave it there. Instead of following, he backs you up onto the bed and peels down the straps of your dress and slides his hands up under the skirt, and all the while he can’t stop thinking about what you said to your husband.

You used to say that to Dabi.

The first time it was an accident—you’d mentioned it off-hand during a night when it was snowing and his unnaturally high body temperature was the only thing keeping the two of you alive. “God, I love you,” you’d said, draping your arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close to share his heat.

It had stunned him and you could probably tell. Maybe the next few times were just you taking pity on a kid who had never been told so casually and so simply that he was loved. But eventually you meant it, the little love you’s before you went to sleep or when one of you went off to do something alone for a few days—a familial love borne of mutual reliance. For the years Dabi was a runaway with you, you were the only person he could trust, and he knows the feeling was mutual.

Now he wants you to tell him you love him again.

It would be hot, wouldn’t it? You telling Dabi you love him while he forces you into a mating press on the bed you share with your husband. Isn’t that hot? You’re never going to be able to sleep on these sheets again without remembering his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, his cock filling you in ways you haven’t been filled since you were 19.

How are you gonna lay next to your husband in this sad cold bed? ‘Cause that old fuck isn’t touching you, Dabi knows that much—if he was, he’d’ve noticed by now that you’re always covered in bite marks and hickeys that he didn’t give you. How are you gonna sleep at night knowing what a nasty slut you are, telling another man you love him?

So say it. Say you love him.

Oh, you’re going to be like that, aren’t you? What did he tell you about being a fucking brat when he’s talking to you? See if you’re still so defiant when he’s got his hand stroking the length of that pretty throat and then sealing down on it, squeezing gently on the veins running up the sides of your neck, not too hard, but enough that you’re probably getting a little dizzy while he continues to fuck into you. Does it hurt? Your face is turning pink. Uh-uh-uh, don’t try to pull his hand off, or he’ll show you just how good he is with his quirk these days.

You’re trying to choke out the words but you can’t quite make them make sense. There’s something endearing about the way your whimpers vibrate through the skin of Dabi’s palm, how he can hear you as well as feeling you. Oh—could you say his name too? He knows you’re feeling all fucked-out and wet and sloppy, every moan rising and falling in time with his cock stretching your pussy open, but can’t you give it a little more effort? He’s sure you can get his name out if you really try.

And if you’re not going to cooperate, Dabi may as well just dig the heel of his knuckle into your windpipe, because you really do tighten up so deliciously when you cough and sputter like that. Fuck, if you keep doing that, he’s going to cum, gonna cum right here in your syrupy pussy and spill it all over your marriage bed—but no, he wants to hear you say it first, so when you’re gagging and turning red and your eyes are watering he finally stops choking you, loosening his grip just enough that his hand is resting on your neck in a lover’s touch. It takes you a second and your voice is so hoarse he can barely hear it, but then you’re speaking and something jumps in his chest—

“I…I love—love y-you, Touya!” you sob. “I love you! I—love you, Touya—Touya—Touya—!”

And ah fuck it’s almost exactly right, your voice saying you love him, saying his real name, a name he hasn’t heard for years because you’re the only one who really knows it anymore—but you’re crying, real heavy sobs while you gulp in frantic lungfuls of oxygen. Your ribcage is heaving underneath him and—god, fuck—your guts are clenching, sucking down on every inch of his cock, every vein—

—oh shit fuck fuck he’s cumming, and he presses his face into your neck, into your hair, kissing you and thinking I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you—

—please stay, forever.

///

When he’s done, he goes for another round just to make sure you’re going to have cum dripping down your thighs when you go back to the party. No panties, unless you want him to walk through the grand foyer with all the other guests on his way out.

You don’t look at him as you fix your dress and your hair and wipe at your smeared makeup. With your eyeliner rubbed down to the bottom of your eyes, Dabi’s reminded a little of how you used to look—and the reminder is doubled when you slide your legs across the side of the bed and limp over to your vanity, walking hesitantly, your hips rocking from side to side. Damn, did he fuck you that hard?

Reminds him of the old days, you shuffling back to the hideout with that same awkward pain in your gait, purple marks around your neck, and a dim smile decorating your face—for his sake. Oh, and cash in your pockets. You’d tell him that the two of you were going out to eat that night and refuse to let him look at the injuries. God, it made him angry, it still makes him angry just thinking about it—angry at the men who bought you for treating you like that, angry at you for letting them. Angry at himself for not being old enough or strong enough or rich enough to stop them.

Anger, yes…and other things too. There had been a sick, insidious part of him that wanted to be in their position. He’d hated himself for it back then, until you left and the desire to punish you for abandoning him got twisted up with the desire to own you and keep you his. Maybe if he let himself think about it, he’d still hate himself for what he’s doing to you.

By now, you’re too good at covering up the bruises. A sweep of foundation and powder passes over each hickey he left on your throat and it’s like he never touched you. You have to push him off the bed so you can strip the sheets and replace them. When you’re done, you tell him to wait a few minutes after you leave to sneak out the back and he makes another half-joke about joining the party and introducing himself to your old man—

—and you shove him up against the wall with all the strength left in you, wrap your hand around his neck, and dig your fingernails under the line of piercings in his cheek. If he even looks at your husband, if he even thinks about it, you’ll rip his goddamn face open, you tell him in a low snarl.

It’s an empty threat (you and he both know who would win in a physical altercation) but there’s real hatred behind it. Dabi hasn’t seen that kind of fire in your eyes since he found out you became a trophy wife. It makes him want to have you again so he does, pulling your arms away from his face, standing and holding you up against the door to your bedroom, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him to keep from falling.

He’s lubed up by his own cum, and the wet squelching of your pussy just reminds him what a mess you’re going to be when you return to high society tonight. Maybe your husband will be able to smell it on you—the cum, the sex, the other man who’s been keeping his darling wife warm while he’s at work.

Well, probably not. If that stupid fucking cuckold hasn’t figured it out by now, there’s not much of a chance he’ll get it on his own. As Dabi sinks into your tight, gummy cunt again, he decides that he might just have to help the process along. A man deserves to know if his wife is being unfaithful, right?

///

Your husband’s office phone number is written on a post-it note that’s tacked to the desk of his study. It takes Dabi 40 minutes and $30 to buy a burner cell phone, leave a message on the man’s voicemail, and toss the burner in the kitchen trash at your house while you’re in the shower.

The message is short and straightforward. Dabi introduces himself as ‘the man who’s sleeping with your wife’, describes the floor plan of your husband’s house and what position he fucked you in for each room, and finally finishes it off with the evidence—the precise size and location of every hickey he’s left on your body that will still be visible by the time your husband returns from work.

Dabi almost wishes your husband had picked up the call—he’d’ve had a good time explaining in pornographic detail the way your tits look under those too-formal dresses, the way you moan when you cum in his mouth, the way you told him you loved him while he choked you out—with your husband in the house, no less. But this is fine too.

Besides, it’ll be so fucking funny if someone else at your husband’s company hears the message before he does.

///

Whore. Your husband called you a whore.

You’ve been called a whore a lot, actually. More than most people. You should be used to it by now. But it’s different when your husband says it. Your husband, the man who rescued you from a life of poverty and starvation, the man who has given you everything you own, the man who slid a ring onto your finger under a wedding arch and promised to love you in good times and in bad. The man you’ve almost convinced yourself you love back.

He called you a whore and slapped you when you tried to explain yourself and shoved you out the door and locked it. You can still hear his voice telling you the only place he wants to see your face again is in a casket.

So that’s why when Dabi comes to collect you, you’re hugging your knees to your chest on your front porch in your shiny lace-edged slip nightdress, hair in a mess around your head and your lip bleeding onto your chin. Your feet are so cold—your husband didn’t even give you time to put shoes on before he threw you out.

The night is cool and dark but the porch light buzzes on for half a minute when Dabi climbs up the steps to come crouch next to you on the doorstep. You try not to look at him, but he tilts your face toward his, electric-blue eyes skimming over the red mark and blue-black discoloration blossoming across your cheekbone; the blood drying on your split lip.

Dabi asks calmly if your husband hit you, and you nod.

Good, he tells you, and his body lights up blue in a roiling cloud of flames. He’s been waiting for an excuse to kill that old fuck.

The fire is like lightning, bright and ghostly in the darkness. The crackling of the flame eats away at the heavy silence of the night and you crawl back from the dry heat of it, sure you can feel your eyebrows singeing from being near. Dabi looks different backed by the inferno—bigger, crueler. Frightening. He reaches at the door but you shout at him to stop.

Why? Don’t you think he should suffer, after what he did to you?

But your fists clench by your sides and you set your teeth and you tell Dabi that if he’s going to kill your husband, he may as well set himself on fire too, because it’s his fault in the first place. And he’s done a lot worse to you than one slap.

Dabi waits a moment, searching your alarmed expression for something, but whatever he’s hoping for you don’t give him and the flames go out. The air smells like smoke and his hands are hot—not burning, but uncomfortably hot—when he kneels in front of you and rubs a thumb over your bruised cheek.

“(Y/N)—” Dabi starts, and then he can’t find a way to finish. So he just gathers you up in his arms and carries you bridal-style down into the lawn and to the driveway, where he’s got a car waiting to take you guys back to his place. You don’t resist, which surprises him again. He thought you’d push away at him, scream, get angry—he thought he’d have to convince you. Or force you, like he usually does. But you just let him deposit you in the seat next to the driver’s.

Before he gets in, he asks you if you need anything from your house. He can go get it for you. See if any balding motherfucker in his forties can stop him. But you just shake your head.

“There’s nothing,” you say blankly. “I have nothing. I…have nothing.”

Just like back then.

“Not nothing,” Dabi tells you, turning forward to the road so you can’t see the look on his face. “You have me.”

///

In the end, he does understand. He understood it the second he held that goodbye note in his hands and knew you were lost to him.

You were 17 when you met him and 19 when you left—hardly older than a child yourself. You barely had enough to provide for your own needs, much less a teenage boy’s. By the time you left, Dabi was more than capable of surviving on his own and already falling into ugly crowds, gangs and syndicates who saw money in his quirk, people you’d sacrificed a lot to keep him away from. He no longer needed you, and it was time for you two to go your separate ways. Dabi understands that.

But now you need him. Just like you needed him when you were fucking strangers for food money; like you needed him when you ran away; like you needed him when you got trapped in this mundane, sparkling-clean life, a life that was never going to fit you. Only this time—this time, Dabi’s old enough for you. He’s not a kid anymore, he’s a man. He’s got an apartment and a good job (well, kind of) and he’s got money. He can provide for you the way you’ve always needed him to.

Dabi’s going to take care of you, and you’re never, ever going to leave.

[shorkbrian]

Fuck the context and the way you portrayed shinso in your brother fic of him was so hot. Can’t wait for him to become unhinged and not even care what his parents would think/if they’re home and just defile you whenever he wants bc he’s just that desperate

Prelude -  gonna call this mess “FaMiLy BoNdInG” and bruh trust me it’s a mess but I tried so enjoy k gbye

Pairing - Aizawa X Reader X Shinsou

Prompt - at the top and combined with these two!

Warnings - psuedo-incest, NSFW, non con, dubcon, all the cons. Step dad Aizawa and step bro Shinsou are a force to be reckoned with. Mentions of DP at the end.

Music - I listened to https://open.spotify.com/track/1xFfbxmfenEpn4WawGWXiA?si=OUFp4ANsSR-6V_H187Eblw while writing even though it has NO relation to the fic spsosfnjsdhgsslfdn dead

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You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking soda and scrolling mindlessly on your phone when your stepbrother had come up behind you, looping his arms over your shoulders as he leaned down.

“Hey girlie, what’re you doing?”

“Nothin’.” You shifted, moving so his mouth was away from your ear, squirming uncomfortably. 

There was a beat of silence, before Shinsou stood, his presence looming behind you like a harbinger of evil. “Come up to my room? I’m tired, wanna hold you.” You sighed, hunching your shoulders and curling in upon yourself. You knew it wasn’t a question, wasn’t a request that you could ignore or refuse. He was just giving you the illusion of having a choice. Well,  you did have a choice;  go with your brother willingly, or get dragged, risk him getting angry if you said you were feeling sick, get into a fight with the man that could pin you to the ground without breaking a sweat.

“Shinsou…. “

“C’mon.” He didn’t wait for you to figure out how to beg for him to leave you be, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet with ease. You went limp, what else could you do?

The purple-haired man reached under your skirt, a modest, knee-length thing, wrenching your panties down with one hand.  You squeezed your eyes shut when his hand brushed against your hip, when he eyed the panties clutched in his fist.

“Cute.”

Gross. 

Then he was tugging you along, headed towards his room. 

You were so tired.

Mind almost shutting down, you stumbled when the audible clanking of the garage door beginning to open could be heard.

Dad was home.

Wide eyed, you caught Shinsou’s equally-surprised gaze, the man in front of you tightening his grip on your arm. Without another word, his pace was quickened.  Aizawa wasn’t supposed to get home until midnight, was supposed to be working late at the office. 

Shinsou tugged you into his room, slammed the door shut,  pushed you onto the bed. He had a sense of urgency; he was stressed, thrown off by the sudden and unexpected arrival of your father. “Gotta be quiet now, don’t want dad to hear us, right?”

You nodded, dazed, exhausted. Nothing had happened yet and you were already retreating inside your mind, resigning yourself to whatever your older brother was going to do today. He had said he wanted to cuddle, but that usually meant lazy sex while he hugged you, kissing your neck and falling asleep after making the both of you cum.

Without any preamble, the man climbed onto the bed, putting a hand on your shoulder to gently guide you to lay back. Then he was scrabbling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but your bralette and skirt. He kneeled between your legs, pulling your skirt up to mid thigh to give him more room to maneuver.

“Shinsou please don’t, dad’s-“

“Shhhh, just do what I say and you’ll be fine.”

Shinsou spat into his palm, the sound making you cringe as you thumbed at the soft blankets underneath you. He was unbuttoning his pants, shoving at his underwear until he could get his cock free. The man went quicker than usual as he slicked up his length with his spit, very much aware of the presence of someone else in the house. 

At this point, Shinsou really didn’t care.

He had been fucking you for so long, pulling you aside for a quickie when your parents ran to the store, taking his time when they went away for a weekend,  fucked you on the couch when they went out for date-night. Feeling particularly bold today, he barely thought to pause when your father had gotten home. Right now, he wanted to lay down with his little sister, fuck you until you fell asleep, and then cuddle with your pliant body. Dad home or not, he was determined.

Your skirt was pushed even further up your body, the material bunching at your waist so your stepbrother had unfettered access to your bare pussy. Clenching your eyes shut, you turned your head away as you felt Shinsou pull your hips into his lap so he could rub his cock against your folds. He hissed at the sensation, spitting into his hand again before reaching around his cock to smear his saliva onto your puffy slit, too impatient and hurried to properly prep you.

It was odd to see the purple haired man like this; usually he was very laid-back, slow and gathered in his movements. Right now he was rushing, pushing the tip of his cock slowly into your entrance when usually he would still be making you cry on his fingers. The stretch was immediate, almost burning, and your lungs tightened.

A hand reached up to cover your mouth, Shinsou’s thumb massaging your cheek as he hushed you. You grabbed onto his arm, not to pull him away (it would be useless, he was so much stronger than you), but to ground yourself,  able to do nothing but hold onto the man causing you pain.

The sound of dishes clattering down in the kitchen had Shinsou’s hips bucking forward suddenly, filling you up, pressing too far, too soon. He swore lowly, hand tightening around your mouth as you let out a pained noise.

His hips stilled, the hand not at your mouth petting soothingly at your hip in an imitation of comfort. Funny, you thought - you wouldn’t need comfort if your stupid step brother could manage to keep his dick in his pants.

As the seconds passed, both of you aware of Aizawa down in the kitchen, your muscles slowly relaxed. The stretch burned less, felt more manageable. Still, you were entirely unprepared when Shinsou drew his hips back before rutting into you.

You screeched, the sound muffled by his hand but undeniably loud.  Shinsou leaned over you, unwittingly pushing himself deeper as he tried to soothe you with his quiet “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

If you were able, you would scream that you weren’t. You weren’t okay, nothing was okay. Everything about this was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. The way his hips were twitching into you, the way he kissed your cheeks and thumbed away your tears. The pleasure that was sparking in your core, the fact that it was your stepbrother getting ready to pound you into the mattress.

He was thrusting smoothly now, cock drilling into you a a steady pace. You were getting wet, the slide easier and less painful, pleasure slowly filtering in. When Shinsou plucked at your clit, you squirmed, hips shamefully moving to meet his own. He started increasing the pace, breathing heavily as the two of you rocked together on the bed. Occasionally his bed creaked, the wood rubbing at the joints and squeaking. 

On one hand, you hoped dad didn’t hear. On the other, you wished he would -  that he’d come save you from his son.

You got a mockery of your wish.

“Kids?”  Aizawa was walking up the stairs, the third step that always creaked whenever someone tread on it announcing his ascent.

“Shit.” Shinsou breathed, pulling out of you, manhandling you quickly. He threw back the covers of his bed, shoved you down, settled behind you. He didn’t have to tell you to be good - the taboo, disgustingly wrong nature of what he had been doing was too embarrassing for you to reveal to your stepfather. Accusing his biological son of assaulting you? Raping you? Would dad even believe you? You didn’t want him to see you like this, you couldn’t.

Dad knocked as Shinsou pulled the covers up, covering your state of undress. You knew your bralette straps were still visible, and Shinsou still had his shirt on. It would probably just look like the two of you had been napping, but then again, it would still seem odd. Whenever your parents were home you stayed as far away from your brother as possible - you weren’t one to just go cuddle with him.

The door creaked open, and your dad peered in. You were so embarrassed, half-naked and utterly humiliated underneath the covers. You didn’t know what to feel or what to do, frozen in fear and indecision. 

“Hey dad, need something?” Shinsou rumbled from behind you, voice steady and monotoned.

Light eyes scanned the room, before settling on you and your brother. Aizawa gave you a confused glance, obviously not expecting you to be in here, before his eyes shifted to the man behind you. “Wanted to let you know I’m home. Mom won’t be back until late, do you two have any specific requests for dinner?”

Shinsou shifted closer to you, so close that you could feel his rapidly beating heart through the warm flesh of his chest.

“Nah, we’re fine with whatever.”

Aizawa nodded, giving you one more confused glance. Maybe he could tell something was up? You felt like you couldn’t breathe. As the dark-haired man turned, obviously moving to shut the door and head back down to the kitchen, Shinsou was pushing his cock into you, his heart trying to beat out of his chest against your back.

Before you could stop yourself, you were whimpering.

“Dad….”

Shinsou froze as Aizawa turned back, stepping further into the room. You were quiet, tears budding at the corners of your eyes.  You couldn’t make yourself utter another word, completely unsettled at the situation. What were you supposed to do? You wanted him to save you, but you didn’t know how to ask. Your stepfather was studying you, was waiting for you to say something more. His gaze was flickering between you tearful eyes, your bralette straps visible above the blanket, the position you and Shinsou were in. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

All three of you were silent, the moment seeming to stretch on forever. 

You were so tired.

Breaking the stillness, Aizawa took another step into the room, brows slowly drawing down as the realization dawned upon him.

“Shinsou.” HIs voice was low, he rolled his son’s name in his mouth quietly, almost hesitantly. “What the fuck is going on.”

Your brother’s cock was still inside you.

“I was tired. (Y/N)’s cuddling with me, she was telling me about a dog she saw-“ Aizawa snorted, arms crossing as he took another step towards the bed. “Nice try. Don’t lie to me. Tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”

Shinsou was silent behind you, his heart beating loud and fast against your back.  

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” His voice was softer as he asked you, throaty still - but softer.  The tears clouding your vision finally flooded, streaming down your cheeks as you looked up at him. 

“Please… I....” You couldn’t formulate the words, mortification surrounding your body, Shinsou’s hand squeezing bruises into your hip. It was too much. You wished you had never existed,  that none of this had happened.

Unable to get an answer out of either of you, Aizawa strode forward, grabbed the covers, ripped them off the bed and dumped them in a heap.

You sobbed.

Both men were silent as you cried fat tears, embarrassed at being revealed, gratification at dad finally discovering the awfulness you had been subjected to these past few months.

Shinsou thrust his hips further into your warmth.

You choked, eyes snapping up to Aizawa. Shinsou was supposed to stop the second the two of were caught. He wasn’t supposed to keep going. Why wasn’t dad saying anything? Telling Shinsou to get off of you, get out of the house? Why wasn’t he calling the police? Why wasn’t he pulling your skirt down, trying to preserve your modesty?

The man was staring at the mess between your legs, Shinsou’s cock sliding in and out of you as you sobbed. Aizawa was breathing a bit heavier, his face, stance, demeanor no longer angry.

Dread filled your bones, settled like hot glue.

“Can you see how wet she is? She’s dripping.” Shinsou prodded, Aizawa frozen in place, mouth dry as he watched. “She’s always so warm inside, feels so nice.“

He was egging Aizawa on, seizing the moment and capturing his dad’s hesitance, manipulating it. You let out a whine as Shinsou’s pace picked up, cock beginning to hammer into your pussy. The purple haired man looped an arm underneath your thigh, hefting it into the air to allow Aizawa a better view.

“Doesn’t she sound so sweet? She tastes just as good, feels even better.” He was breathing heavily now, as he rutted into your warmth. Dropping your thigh, Shinsou reached for your clit, trapping the nub between his fingers and flicking at it. You cried out, your own hips squirming in indecisiveness , unable to choose between puling away or pushing back into the delicious sensation. It didn’t take much more to have you cumming.

Shinsou grunted as your walls squeezed around his cock, giving a few more frantic thrusts before he shot his load deep within your cunt, hips twitching as he worked through his own orgasm

You watched Aizawa sit down on the bed, close to your knees.

“How long?” He sounded strained. Shinsou shrugged, still panting.

Aizawa’s rough hand rested on your knee, his flat eyes closing as he paused. “Get up.”

The command wasn’t directed at you, but at your brother. Somehow, you didn’t think it would end up with your stepdad kicking his son out of the house.

Shinsou seemed to think the same as he pulled out, uncaring to the way you flinched as his cock dragged against your sensitive walls. He was silent as he shuffled to the end of the bed, tucking his dick back into his pants. 

Aizawa grabbed your ankle and in one smooth move, dragged you to him. You squeaked at the sudden movement, eyes wide as you watched Aizawa look you up and down. The front of his slacks were tented.

He pulled you into his lap, your back to his chest, turning so the both of you faced Shinsou who still stood at the foot of the bed.

“Does he make you feel good?” The older man’s stubble was scratchy against your cheek. You didn’t know where this was going, felt so lost and bad and sick.

  “Sometimes…”

It was impossible to lie. You knew if you did, Shinsou would cut in, tell his father how he made you cum everytime. How most of the time, you were screaming in pleasure before he would even take his pants off. 

Looking at the floor, you missed the look between father and son.

“He touch you here?” You gasped as a large hand grasped at your chest through your bralette. Aizawa’s hands were bigger than his son’s, rougher and more confident in their touch.

“Yes.”

“What about-“ tears streamed down your face as the hand slid further, over your tummy, over the fabric of your skit, down to your abused, sensitive cunt. “-Here?”

“Please stop, please.”

Aizawa didn’t answer, let his hand rest over the top of your pussy, feel his son’s cum slowly leaking out. “Shinsou, come here.”

The purple-haired man obeyed, stepping closer, falling to his knees at the edge of the bed when Aizawa motioned for him to do so.

“Clean up your sister.”

You weren’t too surprised. It shouldn’t have been hard to see where Shinsou had learned his nasty little tricks from. Still, it hurt your heart, struggling in your step-dad’s lap as he held you in place. 

Shinsou was smiling, leaning forward to shove his face in-between your thighs, chuckling when you yelped as he tongued over your hole. You used your hands to shove at his head, pull at his hair, but he caught them in his grip. They were pulled down by your sides, where Shinsou held them still.

“No, no! Stop! You can’t, no—dad!!” You were sobbing, pleading as Shinsou continued his assault on your cunt, licking out his own cum from your insides. Aizawa was holding your legs, keeping you spread-eagled and open.

“I’m not a good guy (Y/N), neither of us are.” His hardness was rubbing up against your back as you squirmed. “And from now on, you call me daddy.” “No! I won’t, let me go!” You thrashed, putting all your energy into loosing the iron grip holding your legs. Shinsou pulled back, licking his lips as he glanced up at his father.

“She was like this when I first had her. Mouthy little thing, still hasn’t learned proper manners.” He didn’t wait for Aizawa to respond, leaning back forward to continue slurping at your swollen lips.

“That’s alright, she’ll learn… I am a teacher after all.”

You wanted to vomit. You went limp, sobbing raggedly in Aizawa’s arms - completely demoralized and humiliated. There was no use fighting when Shinsou had been hurting you.  Now with two fully grown men focused on you? Forget about it.

Aizawa was quiet as Shinsou worked you up to an orgasm, the only sound besides your crying the wet, squishy lapping of Shinsou’s tongue suckling at your pussy. When he switched his focus to your clit, you wheezed, jolting in place as his tongue started laving over the little bud rapidly, quickly throwing you higher and higher and-

You wailed through your second orgasm, almost unable to breathe. 

Moments passed before you were able to calm yourself, ugly-crying and begging the two men to please, please leave you alone. Please leave, don’t touch you.

If you weren’t numb from your orgasm, you would feel sick.

“Shinsou, where’s your lube?”

Purple hair bounced as your brother cocked his head, still kneeling between your legs. “She doesn’t need lube, she’s soaking wet.”

“She’s gonna need it if we’re both going to fit.”

Neither man seemed to be able to hear your panicked pleas, too excited about prepping you to take both of them together.

What an awful attempt at family bonding.

[youare-mysonshine]

heavy || bucky barnes

Summary: reader’s mental health has been taking a decline and bucky is there.

Requested: No

Pairing: TFATWS Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: talks of mental health, depression, anxiety, angst, cussing.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Hey guys, I’m back I guess lmao. I’ve really been struggling with my mental health lately and I guess I kinda just wanted to put it into words, something productive? And I’ve been feeling our angsty emo boy bucky barnes. Most of you might’ve followed me for my Oscar fics but I kinda wanna branch out and I thought this would be a good time to do so. Anyways, I know that some of you have inboxed me or messaged me and I haven’t responded and I’m sorry. But I just want you all to know that if you’re struggling, I’m always here to talk. About anything, always. So, I hope you enjoy this. I might’ve cried while writing this lmao and I also might’ve ended it on such an awkward place but, i’m still getting used to writing again. (Flashbacks are in italics)

————

Bucky didn’t miss the dark circles under your eyes. He didn’t miss the way you sort of slouched as you approached him. He didn’t miss the way that your smile didn’t really meet your eyes.

“Hey,” You said in a breathless voice. “Sorry, I’m late. I got held up.” You said as you took a seat across from him in the booth. Held up. It was better than telling him that you were thinking of just not showing up at all. In the end, you knew that you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t just blow off your new friend who you had so enjoyed spending time with. So, in a rush, you got dressed and made your way to the small, quiet diner that you two had taken to frequenting together. Bucky Barnes was an enigma if you’d ever met one. The way that you had met was rather.. cliche and something straight from a story.

You had been trying to lay off of the caffeine for a while, realizing that you had nearly gone through an entire packet of 32 k-pods that you had just purchased. You realized that you might’ve had a problem. You had been going pretty strong with staying away from caffeine for the time being, until you passed by a coffee shop and got a whiff of coffee. You just couldn’t help yourself; you bought a cup of coffee. It was when you were walking down the street, holding the cup of coffee in one hand, looking down, that you didn’t see someone walking right in your path. You had collided into what seemed like a solid wall and the impact had caused you to squeeze the cup of coffee in surprise, the warm liquid burning your hand, staining your clothes and the other person. You had realized it was another person you had crashed into when you heard them let out a low cuss.

Bucky’s grumpy self had been fully prepared to tell you off for crashing into him, having just left his therapist’s office, but when you looked up at him with those bright eyes of yours, a million apologies spilling from your lips a mile a minute, he swallowed whatever harsh words had nearly sprung forth. He had apologized as well; both of you had been at fault. Bucky had been going over his session with Dr. Raynor that morning, completely lost in his own mind, and you had your eyes trained on the ground, something that was a bad habit of yours. The shock of realizing you had bumped into a man, a really really handsome man with the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen, had made you temporarily forget that you had practically scorched your hand with the coffee, and that you had gotten it on him as well.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You said once again, quickly averting your eyes from the handsome stranger’s face. Instead you focused on the smushed cup in your hand and the stains on his leather jacket. It just made you feel even terrible. “I, I can pay for you to get your jacket cleaned, if you want. Really. I wasn’t paying attention and I just, for whatever reason, squished my cup and.. I’m sorry.” You said, kind of breathlessly.

“It’s.. it’s alright.” His voice was like the coffee that you had been drinking. Smooth and rich. It was deep, something that reverberated deep in your chest and had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. “I wasn’t paying attention either. Really, it’s fine. And don’t worry about my jacket. No harm, no foul.” He said. “You should, uh, you should take care of that hand. Hope you didn’t burn yourself too bad.” He gestured to your hand, still clutching the cup, with one of his own gloved hands.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It wasn’t that hot. Thank you, though. And again, I’m really, really sorry.” Sparing one, seemingly, last glance at the handsome stranger, you side stepped him and began to walk away, tossing the empty cup of coffee in a trash can on the sidewalk. But you didn’t get very far because that deep voice called out to you, halting you in your tracks.

“Can I buy you another cup of coffee?” Bucky’s mouth had opened and spoken the words long before his brain could even catch up. He didn’t know why he had asked you that, but something in his gut was just telling him too.

“What?” A look of total bewilderment had crossed your face and he had seen it.

“I just, well I thought that, since I bumped into you, I could make it up to you by buying you a new cup of coffee. If you wanted, I mean. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” Bucky clarified, hand stuffed in his pocket, waiting for your answer. For a few seconds, you simply stood there, unsure of what to say because surely this wasn’t happening? The last time that you had gone out with a guy was.. well, shit, you didn’t even remember the last time. The little voice in the back of your head, that anxious, paranoid little voice, was telling you not to go off with a stranger. You’d watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds and other true crime shows and documentaries to know that situations like this never turned out well. However, you didn’t get a bad feeling from this particular man. He seemed just as awkward and slightly frazzled as you felt. So you agreed.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

That had happened about two months ago. Ever since then, you and Bucky had formed a strong friendship. Your first time getting coffee with him had been awkward, as were the next few times that you had seen one another. But things got easier. Becoming friends was easy. You kind of fell into this routine, almost as if you two had known each other your whole lives. That was why Bucky telling you who he really was had been terrifying for him. He carried around guilt and shame and just contempt for everything he’d done. Everything The Winter Soldier represented, and when he told you, he figured that you would think the same. He had asked you meet him at the diner that had now become your spot and and you remember how he nervously wrung his gloved hands together. You remember when you asked him what was wrong and he didn’t verbally respond but he took off his gloves; the right one first and then the left, revealing a shiny black metal hand, golden lines intricately placed.

He told you then. Maybe he didn’t tell you everything but he told you who he was and he had braced himself for you to get up and storm out. Or, to yell at him and tell him how much of a monster he was. But, it never came. Instead, you reached out and placed your hand on top his. Not his real hand, but the metal one. You didn’t say anything. You just gave him that smile that was quickly becoming his favorite. Sometimes, silence spoke a thousand words. To Bucky, you had become kind of a respite for him. Even in the late nights or mornings when he woke up after a nightmare. Or after a particularly hard session with Dr. Raynor. He had closed himself off from other people except you.

Bucky might not have known it, but he gave you the same level of comfort as you gave him. You found yourself craving his presence. Every time you were around him, you couldn’t help but to smile or laugh. In the time that you spent together, your mind was clear and free from all your worries. It all evaporated into thin air. Your mind, usually so active with all sorts of thoughts and worries, could finally rest when you were with Bucky. You could sleep. You could get up in the morning without that stress and anxiety drowning you. It was okay. It was great.

Until it wasn’t.

“No problem, doll.” He said, gloved hands clasped under the table on his lap. “I already ordered. Got your usual. Hope that was alright.” He added, to which you nodded absentmindedly.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Thanks Buck.” You said, mustering up a half hearted smile that didn’t reach your eyes. It was like even smiling drained the energy from you. You were exhausted. Not even just physically but mentally and emotionally. You had been having such good days for a while now, since meeting Bucky. You felt like maybe you would finally be alright but.. this feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that nothing was quite right, it was heavy. It weighed you down. It suffocated you. You wanted to be alone, but you also couldn’t stand to be alone because when you were alone, you were just stuck in your head and being in your head was the absolute worst place to be.

The intrusive thoughts had started. They told you that you would do nothing but weigh Bucky down. That he didn’t need someone like you in his life, someone with clear problems of their own, when he was going to therapy trying to better himself. Even if it had been mandatory for him to go. You wanted to push him away, save him from yourself, but you also couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

Bucky noticed the shift in you. Normally when you two met up, whether it was at the diner or anywhere else, you would usually talk his ear off. Not that he minded, he was content to just sit back and listen to you. Sometimes, you’d tell him about a new book that you had started reading. You had just started reading the fifth Harry Potter book and you were trying to get him to read them. You’d tell him about your day. You’d ask him how his day went, how it went with Dr. Raynor, though you never pushed for more information. You always let him share if he was comfortable with it and he appreciated that. Sometimes you teased him for being such an old man.

The food came soon after you had arrived and sure enough, Bucky had ordered your usual. It sent a pang through your heart when you realized that he had memorized your order, down to the extra syrup and whipped cream on the pancakes. Bucky always liked to make fun of you for ordering the same thing when you came to the diner. No matter what time it was, you always ordered the pancakes with extra syrup and extra whip cream, with the strawberries on the side. Secretly, though he found it adorable.

Today, you had barely even taken more than a few bites and that was what really let Bucky know that something wasn’t right. You kept your head down, eyes on the pancakes and you cut them up, bringing a few up to your mouth and chewing slowly, but you mostly just moved them around your plate with the fork in your hand. Bucky himself had barely taken only a few bites of the food he’d ordered for himself, but it wasn’t for lack of appetite, it was because of the growing concern. His bright blue eyes were now a stormy grey, kind of like the clouds that you see during a heavy storm. His brows were furrowed, giving him an appearance almost as if he were angry.

“You alright, Y/N? You’ve barely eaten your food and normally you finish before I do.” He attempted to joke, to bring about that smile that seemed to always fill him with warmth. He half expected you to look up at him with that cheeky little smile, a mischievous look in your eyes and say “You know, I would be offended by that, but I know why you eat so slow, Buck. I completely understand. You don’t want your dentures to fall out.” But it never came.

You don’t know what it was. Bucky asking you if you were alright or if it was simply all the pressure of just.. everything, finally breaking, but you could feel the hot tears in your eyes. They blurred your vision until you couldn’t really see the plate of the pancakes in focus. The dam had finally come apart and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You set the fork down and buried your face in your hands, your shoulders lightly shaking as you began to cry. All Bucky could do was stare for a few seconds, alarm written all over his face. Alarm and distress because he had no idea what just happened and if he had done something to upset you.

“Woah woah, hey. Sweetheart, hey. What’s wrong?” In seconds, Bucky was out of his side of the booth and scooting in beside you. You felt the comfort of his warmth, you felt his arm tentatively, almost hesitantly, slide around your shoulders and anchor you to him. You shook your head, attempting to calm down, to stop the tears but the more you tried, the more they seemed to come.

“I-I’m sorry, Bucky.. I.. I’m sorry.. I-I’m fine. Really.” You said, sniffling. It was apparent to you both that you were not alright and he really just wanted to get to the bottom of it. Or at least attempt to comfort you. But doing that in the middle of a diner with other people around wasn’t ideal.

“Hey, my apartment is only a short walk away. Come on, let’s get you out of here and somewhere more quiet.” You didn’t protest. You just nodded and slid out of the booth after he did. Bucky took out his wallet and placed a few bills on the table, paying for the uneaten food, and then quickly led you out of the establishment. He kept his hand on you, almost like an anchor. Whether it was to reassure you or himself, he didn’t know and you didn’t mind either. It was probably the only thing that kept you from retreating inside of your mind and giving in to the panic that so desperately wanted out.

You didn’t even realize that you had reached his apartment until he had led you up the stairs and you were standing behind him as he unlocked the door. He allowed you to step in first and then quickly followed behind you, shutting the door as he did so. You didn’t really get the chance to take in his apartment because he had ushered you to sit on his couch while he knelt in front of you.

“Alright, you’re scarin’ me here, doll. What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” The sheer look of concern and slight panic in his face and those pretty eyes of his made the waterworks come back again. You shook your head, your face scrunched up in anguish. Hot bullet tears fell from your eyes and left a wet path in their wake down your cheeks. Bucky wasn’t one to pry; he hated it when people tried to pry into his life and he didn’t do it to you, but he couldn’t stand the sight of seeing you cry. He couldn’t stand the sight of your once bright eyes and cheery smile just.. gone. You eyes were sad and your lips were pulled into a frown. “Talk to me, baby.” He practically pleaded.

“I just.. I don’t.. I don’t know how to explain it, Buck.” You cried. “I-I.. I just feel like..” You let out a frustrated cry when you couldn’t find the right words but Bucky was patient. He reached a hand up, cupping your cheek and wiping away the tears that kept falling. “I don’t feel.. happy. Everyday I wake up and I just, I feel fine for like a few seconds and then everything just comes crashing down on me. I can’t ever stop thinking. I can’t sleep at night. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like this, Bucky. And I feel fucking crazy. Sometimes I feel like you don’t even really like me. I feel.. hopeless, like nothing is ever going to be okay. I might feel okay for a few seconds but then it just goes away.” You explained, though you were sure that you probably sounded like a raving and ranting lunatic. “Before I met you, I liked being alone but I also hated it because when I was alone, I would just overthink and overthink and overthink about every fucking thing. If it wasn’t one thing it was another just giving me such bad anxiety and.. I don’t know what to do anymore, Bucky. I’m just tired of feeling like this. Feeling like nothing is ever going to be okay, like I’m never going to be okay. I just feel.. alone.”

His heart was well and truly broken. In the two months that he’d known you, he hadn’t known how badly you had struggled with your mental health. He hadn’t known the war that you fought within your mind, and how bad it had become. You were such saving grace for Bucky; you saved him from the wars inside of his mind. The constant feeling of guilt that he fought with on a daily basis, and now.. he just wanted to do the same for you. He wanted to shoulder some of the pain that you carried, the pain that seemed to be weighing you down. Both of his hands now cupped your cheeks so delicately, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. His blue eyes were shining, looking at you with not pity, but something like.. understanding. If anyone knew what you were feeling, it was Bucky.

“You’re not alone.” His smooth and rich voice was so soft, so gentle that it brought on a new set of tears. “You’re not alone, sweetheart. Not anymore. You know why? Cause you got me.” He said. “I know what it’s like to feel hopeless. To feel stuck in your head. To feel like nothing is ever gonna get better. I felt like that in Wakanda. Sometimes.. sometimes, we need help. And I know I’m not one to be talking considering that I don’t really like talking to my therapist or even going,” That roused the smallest of smiles from you. “I’m here. You know that, right? I’m here. You got me and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I don’t care if you have a million bad days. I don’t care if you feel like you’re bothering me. I’ll be there every time.” You two have gradually gravitated close to one another until your foreheads were pressed together. Bucky was still knelt in front of you on the couch, his hands still holding your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. The tears had stopped falling but you were still sniffling softly. “You’ve helped me. Even if you don’t know it. You’ve helped me.” He was whispering. There was no one but you two in his apartment but he was still whispering the words meant for only you to hear. “Now, let me help you. Please.”

“Okay. I trust you, Bucky.”

[unwrittenlibrary]

Sole Survivor -> II

summary // days eight through eighteen; blindsides, chocolate rewards, immunity idols and cutthroat words.

words // 11.5k (wowza)

warnings // reality tv, typical survivor mentions (idols, tribal, council), cursing, introducing a nickname (sweets) & some allusion to horniness but no sexual scenes

notes // this chapter & the next will probably be the longest ones because they have the most days but!! so much more development and drama here i’m actually super happy with how this came out! i hope you enjoy it :) i did some editing but there still may be some minor spelling or grammar mistakes, i will go through again this weekend!

series masterlist here. [eighteen plus blog and this fic holding eventual eighteen plus scenes mean minors should not interact with this story]

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PREVIOUS • Chapter II • OUTPLAY • NEXT

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Day Eight

Bucky’s shocked with how well the villains have been playing throughout the first week. While there may be tensions running high at camp, whispers and secret alliances, they pull it together on challenge days. 

Except - well - Bucky’s cringing as he watches this challenge because the villains are just sucking. Apparently wrestling in the mud with padded duffle bags is their achilles heel, who would have fucking thought?

The heroes had gotten rid of Sharon at the last tribal council which made the most sense to Bucky. She had been good in her season, but challenges just weren’t her thing, social skills were and right now the heroes need challenge wins. 

And it’s worked. 

One by one the villains have been knocked off the platform, the heros have five points and first to six wins, Bucky doesn’t even want to go up. 

“You got this Bucky!” You cheer from your spot on the mat. You’re covered in mud from the last round. Bucky kind of wants to forfeit to avoid embarrassing himself in front of you. It’s raining now, the platform is slick with rain and mud so Bucky’s slipping before they even begin trying to knock each other off. 

“Villains need this point to stay in the game.” Jeff calls out - yeah thanks - “Ready? Go!” Bucky stumbles around as Steve, of all people, circles him. 

They’re the same height, but Steve is definitely a little broader. “Come on, Buck! Knock him down!” You scream.

“God, she’s annoying.” Steve murmurs in response and Bucky furrows his brows a little angrily. “Come on man, leave her alone.” He mumbles, trying to keep the words off camera. He doesn’t need the world to know he’s grown a little protective of you. 

Steve raises his brows. “She’s annoying.” He repeats and Bucky sighs. He didn’t want to make the first move, content to circle Steve until Jeff forced them to make contact, but for some reason he just can’t let that slide.

So, he steps forward and goes low, pushing his huge red duffel into Steve’s stomach. It makes him stumble, but not a lot, and Steve is quick to push back. 

Bucky stumbles more, his feet sliding around the mud until he tumbles to the ground and tries feebly to block Steve’s pushes towards the edge. How were the heroes so good at not slipping? Did they have glue on their feet?

There’s almost a sigh of relief when Bucky’s body hits the mud, like thank God this is over. He crawls out sadly and feels embarrassed as everyone pats his back reassuringly. 

“Heroes, for the first time in eight days, you’ve won immunity.” Jeff hands over the small statue. “Grab your stuff head out.” The heroes cheer as they happily march away. 

Jeff turns to the villains solemnly. “Villains, I got nothing but your first date at tribal council with me tonight. You have the afternoon to discuss. Grab your stuff, head out.” 

Steve Rogers - Hero Tribe

“We needed this win. And to be able to absolutely demolish the villains while getting it? It’s a boost to us and humbling to them. We could win this.” 

Loki Odinson - Villain Tribe

“We were just pathetic today. Absolutely awful. Not one point? You can’t even blame that on a weak player because we all sucked!” 

You’re in the water with Bucky and Natasha trying to wash all the mud off your body. “Who should we get rid of tonight?” You whisper as you dip your head back to try and get it out of your hair. 

Tony and Stephen were further down in the water. Loki was laying in the shelter with Clint. You knew Darcy was sitting by the fire. 

Natasha purses her lips. “I was thinking Strange.” She says with a quick glance over her shoulder. “I know they’re going to be saying your name, Y/N, so we need to get Darcy and Loki before they do.” 

Your mouth falls open in shock. “My name? Why?” 

“It’s too soon to get rid of physical competitors.” Bucky comments. He rests a reassuring hand on your back and you fight the urge to move closer to him. You weren’t sure what it was about Bucky, but he was so comforting, you always wanted to be around him. “Loki and Darcy know that.” 

“I’ll talk to Darcy, you two talk to Loki.” Natasha orders before swimming away. You and Bucky look at each other with a laugh. 

“She’s intimidating.” You admit. Neither of you move to go and talk to Loki, both content to relax in the water for a few more minutes.

“Not as intimidating as you.” Bucky splashes some water at you making you splutter. 

You splash him back with a laugh. “How so? I think I’m nicer.” 

Bucky shakes his head. He moves a little closer to you in the water and you smile when his leg brushes against yours. “You just have this stare.” Bucky smiles. “Makes everyone around you want to drop everything and do what you say.” 

“Does it make you feel like that?” You stare at him with a smirk. Bucky presses his tongue against his cheek and looks away for a moment. 

“Sometimes.” He admits as he stands in the water. Your eyes trail up from the waistband of his shorts to his collar. He’s already got a tan from the island sun and his body looks incredible dripping water off of it. You bite your lip when your eyes meet his and Bucky smiles before moving to make his way to shore.

Your hand darts out and wraps around his wrist. “I know we haven’t talked about it a lot.” You say quietly. “But you and me, Bucky Barnes. Final two. These other alliances are just a means to an end.” 

Bucky nods stiffly, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “I’ll talk to Loki.” He gently pulls his wrist away from your hand. You watch as he makes his way to shore and begins searching subtly for Loki. 

Clint Barton - Villain Tribe 

“I trust Nat. Nat and I are friends outside of this. She’s a part of my life, she knows my kids, my wife. I just hope she’s made a good choice in working with Bucky and Y/N because from what I’ve seen they’ll pick each other over any of us.” 

You - Villain Tribe 

“I don’t…” You laugh. “Bucky is handsome. That’s all I have to say.” 

“Can I talk to you, Loki?” Bucky asks politely. Loki stares at him for a moment before raising his eyebrows. “Come for a walk?” 

Loki heaves out a sigh before standing up to follow after Bucky. “I’m assuming you and the siren need a vote.” 

Bucky snorts. “She’ll love that. Black Widow. Villainess and now siren.” He sighs. “Where are you leaning on the vote?” Loki looks at Bucky from beside him. Social game wasn’t Bucky’s best aspect, he always struggled with the ability of persuasion, but he was better at this game now. Six years off of it, twelve seasons, he’s had time to study up. 

“Not sure. Today was a wake up call. Maybe we’re not as strong as we thought.” Loki admits. “Who are you leaning towards?”

“Strange.” Bucky answers quietly. “We’re all pretty strong, you know? But he and Stark are just stuck in the past and Survivor is a new game now.” 

“So why not get rid of Stark?” Loki just watches as Bucky picks up logs. Bucky supposes he can’t be too upset because Loki had agreed to talk and not gather. “Stark won. Strange didn’t.” 

Bucky can admit he has a point and Strange was far more tolerable to Bucky than Tony was. Strange was good at laying under the radar though, and while he was incredibly talented at puzzles, physical challenges seemed to be a weakness.

“You won.” Bucky purses his lips as Lokie shrugs. “Like you said, we need a strong team. We just came to the decision that Strange is weaker than Tony.” 

“What can you offer me?” Bucky is reminded of how Loki won. He was always so good at giving less than what he got in return. 

“I can promise you safety tonight.” Bucky narrows his eyes. “Then we’ll talk. You have to know your reputation, Loki.” 

“I do.” He smiles at Bucky. “But we all have one, don’t we? Who’s to say your girl won’t turn on you?” 

Bucky rolls his eyes, deciding to ignore the jab. “Can I count on you Loki?” 

“I’ll let you know.” Loki shrugs apathetically before walking away. Bucky scoffs. 

Was trusting you risky? Of course it was. If he fell out with you he was sure it would be his ticket home, but he had seen your loyalty in full play too. When the alliance had turned on Shuri your season, you had refused to write her name down and gave up your idol for her. 

He was playing smart, whether or not anybody else thought so. He could work with you, save you, get saved and then when it became necessary he could turn his back on you. 

This was a villain's game after all. 

Tony Stark - Villain Tribe 

“Something is brewing. I can feel it. We got too comfortable with winning. We never put a plan in place for if we lost and now I’m afraid I’ll be the target.” 

When you get the hour warning, you can tell something is wrong with Bucky. He’s shaking his leg and his eyes are shooting around the shelter like he’s an on duty security guard.

“Bucky.” You nudge his shoulder with yours as you sit next to him. “What’s up?” 

He looks around skeptically before leaning in towards you. His metal arm brushes your’s and makes you shiver, it’s coolness offers a much needed relief from the sun beating down on you everyday. “We should get rid of Loki.” 

Your eyes widen and you look up at him shocked. “Wh...What? Why?” You whisper. 

“He wants too much from us. He wants to play that swing vote angle again. He’s dangerous, he’s won before.” He explains hastily. Tony and Stephen were whispering by the fire with Darcy. 

“I’ve won before.” You point out. Bucky shakes his head quickly, his hand lands on your kneecap reassuringly. 

“He’s not gonna help us, I’m telling you.” There’s a warning in his tone that makes your back straighten. “We should talk to them, he hasn’t made any friendships yet.” 

You nod slowly. “Okay… Okay.” You place your hand over Bucky’s. “I trust you.” He lets out a sigh of relief and you stand, holding a hand out to help him up. 

The three look up at you cautiously as you and Bucky take seats across from them. “Who are you guys thinking?” You ask gently. 

“You come to us less than an hour before we have to leave? Your plan not work out?” Tony scoffs with a defiant cross of his arms. 

You roll your eyes at his pride. It would be his downfall. “Our plan is Loki and we were hoping you could help.” You put on your sweetest smile and softest tone of voice.

Tony looks you up and down with a tense jaw. “How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?” 

“I wouldn’t have even come up to you if I wanted you gone, Tony.” You say with a smirk. “I would have just picked you off.” You stand quickly, over the conversation. You had given him your demand, there was no need to waste your last half hour before council. “I’m gonna rinse off. I’ll see you later.” 

Bucky watches you go. It’s hard not to. He doesn’t even care that the cameraman not even ten feet away captures his eyes moving over your body or how he adjusts his seat when he turns to face the two older men again. 

“We’ll vote with you tonight.” Tony says with a knowing look. “But, I’ve gotta warn you. I’ve watched her season. I’ve seen her. You, my friend, are falling right into the trap.” 

Bucky shrugs. “What if she’s falling into mine?” 

Natasha - Villain Tribe 

“We’re going to tribal tonight, which I’m sure will be a disaster. I know Jeff is gonna tear our performance to pieces and he’ll ask intrusive questions. All I can hope is that the plan works and Strange goes home.”

You - Villain Tribe 

“Bucky and I came up with Loki so last minute I didn’t have a chance to tell Nat or Clint. What’s the saying? I’d rather beg for forgiveness than ask for permission. I can only hope this doesn’t make an enemy out of her.” 

“Villains come on in. Grab a torch and light it up.” Jeff calls out as the eight of you walk in in single file. “Fire is your life in this game. When it’s extinguished, your time here is up.” Everybody takes a seat. You place yourself in front of Bucky and in between Loki and Darcy. 

“Wow. Villains. Not going to tribal for eight days is an impressive feat.” Jeff starts off his hands pressed against his legs as he looks over your group. “Do you think tonight will make you stronger? Or expose rifts? Natasha?”

You force yourself not to flinch as she begins speaking. Have to keep the guilt off your face as you think of how upset she’ll probably be when all is said and done. “Well, I think tonight will really strengthen us as a group. Sealing up any cracks.” 

You swallow and turn your head to look at her like you agree. You see Bucky out of the corner of your eye and really, really want to look at him for some comfort, but you knew Jeff would catch on. 

“Loki? You agree?” Jeff moves his eyes over you and onto the laid back man. Loki nods with a cocky smirk. “I do, Jeff. Tonight will be a clean slate.” 

You rub a finger under your noise nervously. You and Loli weren’t friends, but you did feel a little bad at the idea of this blindside. “Bucky, I mean, it seems like you guys have it all figured out? Is this a front or are you guys really at one?” 

Bucky’s knee grazes your lower back. “I mean… I feel like we’re working together well, but you never know. I mean, I could go home tonight. You really never know.” 

Jeff nods, looking a little put off by how little you’re all giving away. “Okay, well then, let’s get to the vote. Loki, you’re up first.” 

As Loki walks away you finally look back at Bucky. He nods as subtly as he can and while you’re sure it will be zoomed in on in the edit of the show, nobody sitting around you seems to notice and that’s what matters right now. 

One by one the eight of you make your way to the voting area. You write Loki’s name with a sad face in the O and fold it up. 

This was the best move for your game, you knew it was. Loki was too good and too smart to be kept for a possible vote. You knew if he made it to the merge he could make it all the way to the end again. 

And you just couldn’t let that happen. 

Bucky’s Vote - Loki

“Sorry, man.” Bucky shrugs holding the slip of paper up. “You came too hard. I need to protect myself in this game.” 

Tony’s Vote - Loki 

“If it’s not you, it’s me.” He shrugs. “Sorry, I really like me.” 

Natasha’s Vote - Strange

“Some OGs just don’t know how to adapt. I’m learning the new game while you’re stuck in the past.” 

Once you’re seated again, Jeff moves to grab the votes. “Person with the most votes will be the third person voted off the island and the first voted off the villain's tribe. I’ll read the votes.” 

He pulls a slip out. “Strange.” He marks. You hear Stephen’s sharp inhale. “Strange.” Jeff reads again. “That’s two for strange.” He pulls out another slip. “Strange. That’s three for strange. Five votes left.” 

You suck in a breath. This was the moment, either you and Bucky would be victorious or this would be an incredibly fast fall from grace. 

“Loki.” His head whips around to look at Bucky, who you know is staring straight af Jeff like you are. “Loki. That’s two votes Loki. Three votes Strange. Three votes left.” You tap your foot against the makeshift wood floor. “Loki.” Jeff reads. Natasha’s head turns to look at you with fierce eyes, but you don’t acknowledge her gaze. 

“Loki. That’s four for Loki. Three for Strange. One vote left.” Jeff pulls the last slip out. “Third person voted-“

“Fuck.” Loki hisses next to you as he stands. He doesn’t acknowledge any of you as he brings his torch to Jeff, only deigns to say something when it’s put out.

“I think you all know who’s running the show now and if you let her, she’ll go all the way again.” He warns before descending the steps. 

You roll your eyes before you turn to look at Bucky with a small smile. “Well, playing the game with vets obviously means playing the game. Villains starting off with a blindside, the only question is will it make you stronger? Grab your stuff, head out. See you at the next reward challenge.” 

Loki Odinson - Exit Interview 

“I was just too big of a threat to them. They new I would win it all again if I stayed, I can only hope they figure that out about that girl. She’ll go all the way again, she’d win.” 

Natasha - Villain Tribe

“I got played. That’s what happened. She took my trust and used it to her advantage and she played me. She’s going home next. Then her little boy toy.” 

Bucky trails behind you as Natasha stomps back into camp. “I just can’t believe this.” She hisses to the two of you as move to place your stuff back in the shelter. 

“It was last minute, Nat.” Bucky sits down next to you in the shelter. “We didn’t have time to talk to you before tribal.”

She scoffs. “Yeah. Yeah. Now I just look like the idiot who trusted you and who brought Clint down with her!” She waves her arm in Clint’s general direction and he looks away like he doesn’t really want to be a part of the conversation.

Bucky gives her a dramatic eye roll. “You don’t look dumb. It was last minute. Loki was too dangerous to keep in the game. He was going to play us all to make it to the merge.”

“The merge? Bucky! It’s not even day ten yet. We need a strong team.” Natasha hisses. Bucky feels your foot rub against his shin subtly as she yells at him. “Loki was strong!” 

“We all are! This isn’t the same survivor, Nat!” Bucky tries to keep his voice steady, but he’s getting tired of being yelled at. “If we lose again. If we somehow end up one more or one less than them, having Loki would be detrimental to numbers. Especially with Thor on the other side.” 

Bucky nudges his knee into your leg dangling off the makeshift bed of the shelter. “He’s right. You know it.” You defend him. 

“You two just made an enemy. Okay?” she crawls onto the opposite side of the shelter. 

Bucky scoffs, but doesn’t say or do anything else in response. It’s tense as some of your tribe members sit by the fire or crawl into the space to sleep. 

You fall onto your back and Bucky takes space beside you. “Did we make a stupid move?” He whispers. He can see one of the silhouettes of a cameraman near the shelter and he’s sure they’ll be trying to pick up this conversation, but he really just needs reassurance. 

You shake your head. “No.” You scoot closer to him. Bucky shuts his eyes, while laying like this during the day was a no-go, it was nice to be beside you at night. Where your heat offered some relief to cold. “And there’s no second guessing in Survivor, okay? We did what was best for us.” You whisper sternly. 

Bucky nods in response. He hesitates for a moment before reaching out and squeezing your hand. “Thank you.” 

Your eyes widen and he can see the shock reflected on your face even in the dark, but you squeeze back. “Final two.” You say so quietly Bucky can barely hear you. 

Day Ten

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe 

“Loki was the best move for us. I know and Y/N knows that. That’s all that matters right now. We have a challenge to win. Nat’s threats mean nothing right now.” He shrugs.

Thor Odinson - Hero Tribe 

“The villains walk in and my brother is gone! I just never expected him to go home so soon. We didn’t get to play together long on blood versus water, and I hoped that we would be able to here. If I had to guess I would say they just saw him as too big of a threat.” 

When Jeff reveals a set up of chocolate, your mouth waters. Sweets person or not after almost two weeks with nothing but water and rice, chocolate sounded like a five star meal at a Michelin star restaurant.

“You even get a little taste.” Jeff teases as he reveals a plate with small break away pieces of chocolate. Your entire tribe groans as he comes up to you with the plate. 

You turn to face Bucky as he takes his small piece. He smiles and offers it out. “Do you want it?” You shake your head quickly and he shrugs before popping it into his mouth.

You nudge him when you notice Steve handing the plate back without taking a piece. “What are they doing?” He asks amused as the entire tribe follows suit. You roll your eyes when Steve holds the plate, still filled with chocolate, out for Jeff to take. 

Jeff furrows his brows. “You don’t like chocolate, Steve?” He asks, bemused by the hero's actions. Your entire tribe turns to look at them to explain themselves. Steve shrugs. “We don’t need it, Jeff. We’re here to win.”

“So you don’t care about the reward? You just want to win to win?’ Jeff attempts to clarify. You laugh out loud. “We’ll take it, Jeff! Can we have their bites of chocolate?” You giggle as Bucky pinches your side. 

Jeff laughs and Steve shrugs apathetically. “We’re ready to win. Let’s play.”

“So you don-” 

“Let’s play.” Steve cuts Jeff’s question off, who looks at the man annoyed by the attitude. “We’ll play.” Jeff says sternly. “When I’m done.”  Steve looks away a little embarrassed which only makes your tribe laugh a little more as Jeff begins to explain the rules of the challenge. 

“It’s like basketball.” You murmur, recognizing the game from your own season. Two players from each team in the area and three on each platform. The two in the arena catch the balls and try to steal them for the contestants on the platform to shoot. You feel like your tribe has a really good shot to rebuild momentum again. “We got this.”

You end up in the arena with Clint while Bucky, Nat and Tony stand on the platform to shoot. You’ve forced Strange and Darcy to sit out, but neither of them seemed thrilled at the idea of basketball either. 

It’s a brutal match. The heroes are obviously desperate for another win, desperately trying to prove themselves to whoever watches this season at home.

Something about the villains just clicks though. It’s easy for your team to communicate and score; the closer and closer you get to five points the dirtier the heroes start to play. 

By the last round, you and Bucky are both in the arena while the other three attempt to shoot the winning score. 

With Steve. 

Who elbows you when you jump for a ball. “Shit!” The hit itself isn’t too hard, but it’s jarring enough that you fall to the ground in shock. 

“Are you fucking serious, dude?” Bucky shows up behind you with a glare directed towards Steve, who at least looks a little apologetic. Bucky’s fingers lift your chin so you look at him. 

“Are you okay? Do I need to call for medical?” Jeff calls from his spot near the benchwarmers.

Bucky’s fingers trace over what you’re sure will be a little bruise later or some minor swelling before he shakes his head. “You good?” He asks quietly, just for you. 

His eyes on you are intense as he traces his fingertips over your skin. It’s intimate, far too intimate for the amount of people watching hawkeyed and looking for reasons to vote you out.

You stand abruptly. “I’m good.” You dust the dirt off of your legs and turn to face Jeff without glancing back at Bucky. “No medical! I’m okay! Just an accidental bump.” Your eyes find Steve’s and he offers a semi-apologetic smile that you shrug at in return. 

The game is called back on. Steve seems a little shaken by his accidental brawl and it gives your team all the momentum they need to score the last basket. 

“Villains win reward!” Jeff’s arms shoot up and your team cheers. You squeeze Bucky’s bicep as Darcy rushes over to give you a hug. Thank you. You mouth, the cameras may have picked up on it, but nobody else has and that’s all that matters. 

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“I bet right now they’re wishing they had some of that chocolate.” His laughter rings out.

Peter Parker - Hero

“I really wish I had taken a bite of chocolate. It looked so good.”

There’s a large table set up buffet style with chocolate candies, cakes, milk and anything you can make chocolate, is chocolate. 

But there’s only one thing Bucky’s searching for, a clue. If there’s one thing he’s learned watching these more recent seasons, it’s that there’s always a clue hidden away on these reward trips and Bucky’s going to find it. 

For you and for him. 

“Oh my god.” You let out a moan at the bite of a chocolate cupcake you take. You hold it towards Bucky with a smirk. “Try it. I don’t think I’ve ever had a cupcake that tasted this good.” 

Bucky takes a small bite and lets out a pleased groan. He’s sure if he had been eating steadily for the past couple weeks the cupcake wouldn’t taste nearly as good, but to him it’s like heaven.

“We’re gonna go for a swim. Do you two wanna come?” Darcy offers as the rest of the team darts towards the clear water. You and Bucky shake your heads quickly. “I’m too attached to this chocolate.” You giggle as Darcy moves to follow the rest of your team. 

You move so you’re sitting beside Bucky and lean your head against his shoulder as you take bites of the chocolate treats. “Check this out.” You hold up your left hand and flash a small, white piece of paper. 

“Is that…” Bucky trails off as you stuff it into your bikini top with a smirk. “Where’d you find it?”

“The cookie platter.” You laugh softly. “It was hidden between the chocolate chip and oreos.” You tilt your head up to look at him. “That’s our safety procurement. They’re not getting rid of us anytime soon.” You smirk. 

“If we can find it.” Bucky noted, picking up another small cupcake. You grab a small, hershey kiss and pop it into your mouth. “I know where it is, Buck. I read the clue when I went to the bathroom. It’s back at camp.” 

Bucky nods and finally lets himself relax, his head resting over yours as the two of you eat in a comfortable silence.

“You and I, baby.” Bucky holds a piece of chocolate out which you meet halfway in a cheers. “Til the end!” You cheers with a soft laugh.

Natasha Romanoff - Villain Tribe

“Nobody is really worried about Bucky and Y/N because they just don’t have the numbers anymore. Clint and I aren’t going to help them and Tony and Darcy only promised one vote.” She shrugs. “If they want to sit off in their little bubble and just enjoy their last few days together until we vote them off, that’s fine! We’re not worried.”

Darcy Lewis - Villain Tribe

“I mean, she had to know nobody would want to bring her until the end. She’s a fan favorite. She plays well. It’s only a matter of time until she’s gone and Bucky following right after her.”

Day Twelve

The heroes just can’t win. Which you can tell is annoying your tribe. Immunity is nice when there are people you don’t want to get rid of before the merge. It was an issue when there was and they wanted to get rid of you.

“If we lose, we need to have a plan.” You whisper to Bucky as the two of you huddle by the fire. Your thighs are pressed against one another’s and it has warmth spreading through you. “They’re going to try and vote one of us out.”

Bucky’s fingers trace over your leg. “But we have this.” He taps the immunity idol you had stuffed into your shorts after finding it on the trek back to your camp. “We can use it against them.”

You lean your head against his shoulder. “If we play it right.” You glance over your shoulder. The rest of your tribe is floating in the water, washing off the dirt from today’s challenge. “If we play it wrong, we fuck everything up.”

You can feel Bucky nod against the top of your head. “How do we play it right? They’re not going to tell us their votes.”

“They’ll try.” You cross your arms over your chest. “They’ll whisper around us and try to make us think a certain way. We just have to play smarter.” You shrug.

You stand up suddenly, dusting off the sand and dirt stuck to your skin. “We’ll just play the defeated pair act and turn it around on them. We just have to find a weak link.”

Your eyes move back to the ocean, where Darcy floats away from the group, obviously ignored and outcasted.

“Then we have our in.” You smirk down at Bucky.

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“She’s so odd. I’m… I just find myself wanting to follow her everywhere though.” He shakes his head, like he can’t quite believe he’s saying all this. “I know how she won. She’s good. She makes it feel real.”

Day Fourteen

Things go well, but not as well as Bucky had hoped. With a double tribal council looming over them, individual immunity for you or him would have ideal, no matter who won the award. 

Natasha had won individual immunity and the reward, hot dogs and hamburgers while sitting in the opposite tribe’s council. It was good, but Bucky knew she would be power high for the rest of the afternoon. 

She had made it clear she would be coming for you and him. 

“Heroes can’t win, so they’re forcing us to go to tribal now.” You nudge Bucky with your elbow, but he can’t bring himself to laugh. He can’t understand how you’re so nonchalant as Natasha moves around camp with a vengeance, desperate to get back at you two for screwing her over. 

In the first vote, his mind tacks on. She shouldn’t be taking it too serious. 

“How are you not worried?” Bucky asks quietly as the two of you sit under the palm tree. You’re weaving ferns together for no reason other than it giving you something to do while Bucky uses a spare cloth to wipe dirt off of his arm. “She’s plotting our demise and we’re just sitting here.” 

You glance up at him with a smile. “You worry too much, Buck.” You shrug your shoulders. He watches as your eyes move over the beach and take in the groups spread out. “Have you noticed anything?” You ask quietly. 

Bucky splutters for a moment, completely shocked by your nonchalance. “Are you listening to me?” 

“Because I have.” You ignore him. Anybody else and Bucky would be furious. He thinks that may be a problem. You hand comes up to cup his chin and force his stare in the direction of the fire pit. His eyes land on Darcy, sitting alone as Tony, Stephen and Natasha chat in the shelter. “I’ve noticed how overlooked Darcy Lewis is. They don’t see her as a physical threat or social competitor.” 

Bucky nods slowly. “What makes you say that?” 

“They think she’ll fall into line because she owes them something for keeping her safe.” Your hand drops from Bucky’s face and he raises a fingertip to trace over where they had laid. You keep talking, “But she knows they’ll rid of her at the merge. She’s too smart individually to not.”

“And we get her to spill their secrets?” Bucky asks softly, catching on to your train of though. “Because they’re talking around her, but not to her right now.” You turn to look at him with a proud smile and short nod. 

“When she goes off on her own, we’ll make our move. There’s no need to stress, Buck.” You say softly. He looks down at you and almost melts at the reassuring smile on your face. 

Fourteen days and he felt something for that smile. Something like butterflies in the stomach and breath flowing easier. Was that too soon? He wasn’t sure. Time was different when you’re with people twenty-four seven. “Yeah.” He breathes out. “You’re right.” 

The cameras have no doubt caught this flickering of emotions on his face and maybe by the end of this he’ll be plastered across social media as a somehow worse victim to your Survivor game. He knows Steve had worshipped you, but it was never like this. You never smiled at him like this. 

Bucky swears it. 

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe 

“She’s good.” He laughs awkwardly. “We’ll see how this alliance plays out.” He looks away and watches as you get up and walks towards Darcy, who has finally drifted off to collect fire wood. “We’ll... We’ll see.” 

“Darcy? Can I come with you?” You’ve made sure the majority group has moved on to the water so they don’t see you talking with her and . “Maybe we could talk.” You shrug. 

She looks you over with wary eyes before sighing. “Yeah. Okay.” She nods for you to follow and you smile thankfully at her. Darcy was sweet, there really wasn’t any other word for her. 

Her confessionals had been hilarious; They were full of dry commentary and sarcastic quips that made her easily likable. She was a genius, in the literal sense, and forced her way to the end with puzzle wins. Her fatal flaw, and the ultimate nail in her coffin, had been her inability to make strong alliances. 

“You’re a threat.” You say easily as you both pause to pick up some fire wood. “It’s why you struggled on your first season and why you’ll struggle now.” 

She raises her eyebrows at you obviously unimpressed. “i made it to final tribal council. How is that struggling?” 

“You lost.” You shrug. She seems unphased by your bluntness and that makes you happy. “You know you lost because you didn’t forge bonds. You’re sweet. Funny. Smart and strong. People saw you as a threat from that first puzzle challenge on your season and they spent the end plotting your demise. You made it to final three because of your skills not because of your social presence. It’s incredibly impressive, but it might not help you as much in this game where people already know how truly good you are.” 

Darcy takes pause. An in. You think proudly, you knew you could crack her. “What exactly are you offering? You and Bucky have made it clear that’s final two.”

“So did Steve and I.” You give her a vicious smirk. “Darcy, thirty seasons and men always fall for the nails up their back and sunkissed legs.” You tilt your head with a cocky smile. “I want to create a more... Women led Survivor. So many men have won and used women to do it.” 

She releases a shocked laugh. “You know I could tell him all this? Just... Use it for my own good.” 

“You could.” You nod slowly. You pause, like you’re actually worried about the attempt of a threat. “You won’t though. Because you know as well as I do this information won’t get you far. Tell Bucky and I’ll just twist it so you’re gone next or tell the grandparents and they’ll try to get rid of me or Bucky, then you when your vote is no longer needed.” You give her a sarcastic pout. 

She shifts her eyes to the ground.  It’s a tell, flashes of her season play in your mind, she’s about to lie. “They’re talking about you tonight.” She finally says with a fake smile. 

Your eyes narrow before you nod slowly. Wrong choice. 

The two of your watch each other for a moment, a stock still staring match where you’re both attempting to gauge the other’s reaction. Then you smile, sweet and innocent. “It’s up to you. Vote for me or vote for Strange. I can’t force your hand.” 

You give her a wink before making your way back down the trail. She’s revealed more than she even knows and you’ve just figured out how to save your game.

Darcy Lewis - Villain Tribe

“Maybe she’s right. They’ll get rid of me when they don’t need me, but there’s days before that’s even an option. She’s trying to play me, I know. I’ve seen her and Bucky, she wouldn’t mess that up.” She lets out a defeated sigh. “We know she found the idol, Nat snooped through her bag. Now we just need her to flush it while we vote for Bucky tonight. Biggest blindside yet.”  

 “Villains, since you won reward you will have council and vote. After the vote, whoever is voted off will leave and the rest of you will move to the jury seats to enjoy your hot dogs, hamburgers and soft drinks while the heroes come in and have their council. You’ll leave before their vote and find out who’s gone at the next challenge.” Jeff sucks in a deep breath and smiles at the group. “Sound good?”

Bucky hadn’t gotten a chance to talk with you after you had followed Darcy into the trees for your talk, but you had traced a finger over his knee reassuringly when the two of you had sat down so he’s hoping for the best here. 

He knows it’s frowned upon, but he really tunes Jeff out as he begins talking to Natasha. Bucky’s eyes focus on you. The way the fire casts a glow over your skin and how you’re able to keep your face straight as Natasha accuses you of being a backstabbing alliance member.

“Do you feel like you guys made a mistake last tribal? Getting rid of Loki? Bucky.” Jeff’s voice cuts through the fog that’s in Bucky’s mind. 

His head snaps up to look at Jeff, who’s unable to hide his amusement, and Bucky quickly shakes his head. “I think we made the best choice for our game. It was never the intention to hurt Nat, but she is and I guess that’s something I’ll have to live with.” He gives Jeff a shrug. 

“We had a plan that you didn’t stick to. I think it’s perfectly reasonable for people to not trust you now.” Natasha doesn’t even look at him, she just keeps her eyes on Jeff. 

Jeff’s eyes bounce back and forth between the two like he knows he won’t even have to prompt Bucky for a response. “It was last minute.” His eyes move to Stephen and Tony sat behind her. “Stark was in on it too, but he’s trustworthy?” 

“Stark never promised me final four.” She finally turns to look at him with a smirk, like her airing that out will seal Bucky’s fate. “You did.” 

Your voice cuts Bucky off before he can even speak. “We both knew that final four promise was bogus. You were never gonna turn your back on Clint and Bucky and I weren’t gonna turn on each other. Stop pretending it was your plan to bring us to the end. Lying isn’t all that becoming of you, Nat.” You lean towards her with a pretty smirk. 

Bucky looks you over slowly and swallows thickly. He needed to get this attraction to you under check before he ended up in an embarrassing situation on national television. 

“Shut up.” Nat says just as fiercely. Really, Bucky thinks, the two of you would have worked so well together. He doesn’t understand why you had chosen him. “Let’s vote, Jeff. Can we vote?” She looks away from you with an eyeroll.

Jeff’s eyes widen before he nods. “Sure. Yeah. Let’s vote.” 

Natasha’s Vote - Bucky 

“Next time, hide the idol better.” She laughs. “We need it flushed so we can get rid of your girlfriend next week, sorry Bucky.” 

Darcy’s Vote - Bucky

“I almost took the offer, but numbers are just safer right now. Sorry.” 

Tony’s Vote - Bucky 

“Last week was a one time deal, bud. These old-timers still know how to play the game.” 

“You know the deal. I will read the votes, person with the most votes gets sent home. If anybody has a hidden immunity idol and wants to play it, now would be the time to do so.” Jeff’s hands clutch the urn as his eyes trail over the group. He pauses, waiting for somebody to speak up and Bucky’s heart races for the first time all night. He’s nervous.

“Jeff.” You speak up softly. You smile at group, who all look far too pleased to see you reach into the bag at your feet, before standing up the idol clutched in-between your hands. You walk up to him him slowly with calculating eyes. 

“You know, I’ve had a target on my back since day one. No matter what these villains want to say, they would never have actually worked with me past the merge.” You hold the idol tightly as everyone watches you completely intrigued. You hand the idol over the Jeff. “I would like to play this for Bucky tonight.” 

Bucky’s eyes widen and he can practically feel his heart stop. Natasha’s tongue presses against her cheek as she looks down at the ground with a shake of her head. Clint looks between you and Bucky in disbelief and Darcy flushes bright red. 

Even Jeff looks surprised as you make your way back to your seat in front of Bucky. He’s speechless as Jeff holds the idol up. It’s like water has rushed through his ears as he sees his name pulled out one after the other. 

One. Two. Three. Four. 

“Strange.” Jeff reads out. “That’s one for Strange. Four for Bucky that do not count.” Jeff says pointedly. Jeff pulls out another vote, the one in Bucky’s handwriting. “Strange. That’s two votes and tonight,” he pauses, “that’s enough.”

Bucky lets out a shocked laugh as Stephen Strange slowly moves to pick up the unpacked bag at his feet. Most of his stuff was back at camp, like the rest of their makeshift alliance. The man moves in a shocked daze similar to what Bucky feels himself. He honestly can’t even hear Jeff’s goodbye speech to Stephen over the pounding of his heart.

There’s a moment of shocked silence as the group looks around trying to come to terms with what had just transpired. In that moment, you turn to look at Bucky with a proud smile. “Told you, Buck. Needn’t worry.” 

Bucky lets out another laugh and holds his pinky out to you. “You and me all the way to the end, sweets.” Your eyes sparkle at the nickname and Bucky doesn’t let himself feel embarrassed over it slipping out. He’s far too happy with what just happened to worry about anything. 

Your pinky links with his and Bucky yanks you towards him to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek. You laugh unabashedly as he does so and the rest of the tribe stares in annoyance. 

It’s blatant show of loyalty. One that Bucky knows could hurt them in the end, but you don’t seem to mind and he can’t bring himself to care. 

Stephen Strange - Exit Interview

“I uh, I feel stupid.” He lets out a dazed laugh. “We didn’t split the vote. You always split the vote. Nat and Tony were sure Y/N would use it on herself though and Darcy reassured us she had told the girl we were writing her name down. We got too comfortable. It just sucks it ended up being my neck on the line but that’s the game. That’s Survivor and that was one hell of an impressive play.”

Your tribe won’t look at you. Natasha sits with Tony and Clint as they whisper and eat the hamburgers placed out for everyone. 

Darcy sits in between the two groups as you and Bucky watch the heroes trail into the tribal council chambers. “Heroes. Strange voted out at the villains tribal council tonight.” He gives the heroes a moment to whisper amongst one another as each of their eyes takes in the new villains tribe. 

“Is this a surprise, heroes? I mean did it seem like Strange would be the one to go home after today’s challenge?” Jeff asks as the tribe settles into their seats. 

The group looks at one another hesitantly before Peter speaks up. “I mean, we weren’t sure with Loki. Maybe he came on too strong... Seeing Strange go? Someone who knows the game so well? It makes us think there’s another all female alliance brewing.” 

Bucky looks at you over his sip of generic soda and you suppress a smile as you bite into your hot dog. How wrong they were. You almost want to laugh. Of course they assumed it was an all female alliance again. You had seen it time and time again, long before you came on and long after, men can’t seem to comprehend why other men go home early unless it’s a woman who plans it. 

It’s almost sad how predictable the heroes are in their thought process and game play. You and Bucky steal glances over food as they drone on about working together through honor and loyalty.

What does catch your eye though, is the obvious divide. You can only hope Bucky sees it too so you can discuss it back at camp in preparation for the future merge. 

It’s easy to tell Steve, Wanda and Scott were alone. They sat huddled together on the end while the other’s spoke. None of them piped up to support the claims of unity or strength. You wish you could speak up and urge Jeff to point it out because it was killing you not knowing. 

He was good at his job though. “Steve. Scott. Wanda. You three are so quiet, do you agree with what Thor is saying? That you’re all happy go lucky at camp?” He smiles at the blonde man who shrugs.

“I think we’re all nice to each other back at camp, but I wouldn’t say we’re united.” At this, Wanda and Scott perk up. They both nod and Wanda sits up a little straighter. “It’s Thor’s camp right now, he makes the decisions. The only reason the three of us were spared last week is because he knew we’re strong and we’ve been losing like it’s our job.” Wanda tacks on. 

You smirk. Thor was leading the charge? His first season had been nothing short of disastrous. After being kept on as his original tribes muscle, he failed to make a strong alliance post-merge. Even having his brother back by his side couldn’t save him and the end he was voted out as the second jury member. He learned. You glance over at Darcy. Not everyone could.  

Quickly after Steve’s comment, tribal council descends into chaos. Thor disagrees and the men begin talking over one another until Jeff steps in to begin the vote. “I honestly have no idea how this vote will go tonight, but I can’t wait to see. Villains, we’ll see you for the next challenge soon. Where you’ll see the new hero tribe for the first time.” 

Your group is ushered away quickly, forced to leave any half finished drinks or food sitting on your seats. “How they get to see ours but we don’t get to see theirs?” You call out. 

Your question goes ignored by Jeff and the cameramen following behind you. “Whatever.” You shrug hastily before moving to catch up with Bucky.

“Villains aren’t losing. We’re set until the merge, baby.” You wink at him, thrilled at the red you can see dusting his cheeks. 

After all, who said you couldn’t have fun on Survivor?

Natasha Romanoff - Villain Tribe

“I have no words.” She sits on the sand illuminated by nothing but the moon and camera lights. “I’m... I’m speechless.” 

Day Sixteen 

The idol is back in play. And winning reward is necessary for you and Bucky. You couldn’t care less about the rest of your tribe getting to swim in a fresh waterfall or eating a feast, all you cared about was the clue that was no doubt going to be hidden among the food. 

Last tribal had been a guessing game and a whole lot of luck. The numbers were still against you and Bucky, that hadn’t changed. 

“We need a better strategy.” You shake off what you can of the rain pounding against your skin. It’s getting into your eyes and messing with your vision. “They’re destroying us.” You look at Natasha, who stands beside you and Bucky as the rest of your tribe tries desperately to reattain control of the ball. 

Her lips are pursed together, but you can tell she knows you’re right. In the game of ocean basketball, where three points gets you the win, the heroes already had one to your big fat zero and they held the ball. 

“Next round, Bucky and you go out and keep Clint. That way there’s a strong player in each heat. Focus on shaking their-” You’re cut off when the hero team begins to cheer excitedly and Jeff announces their second point. “-Confidence.” You say defeatedly. 

You pucker your lips in annoyance as Darcy and Tony struggle through the water to the sidelines, both heaving out breaths. “We can try.” Natasha sighs going out to meet Clint and presumably explaining the new strategy to him. 

“I hate to be a debbie downer, sweets.” Bucky looks down at you with an apologetic look. “I don’t think we got this.” You don’t have a chance to respond as Bucky is forced onto the makeshift oceanic basketball court. 

You watch with bated breath as both teams struggle to maintain control of the ball. Shuri pulls Natasha underwater and away from Peter when he finally gets ahold of the ball. 

Wanda wraps her arms around to Clint to stop him from catching the ball if Peter passes, it’s an even fight if you’ve ever seen one. And Peter looks terrified to go head to head with Bucky, who’s waiting for him by the floating baskets. 

“C’mon, Bucky.” You mumble to yourself. Darcy and Tony watch in silence. “C’mon. C’mon. C’mon.” You repeat hopefully. 

Bucky’s hands shoot up as Peter makes a hail Mary shot from feet away, not wanting to go head to head with Bucky. The cheers of the heroes side are deafening as it goes in. 

You can only laugh as Peter gets tackled into the water by his tribe. Your eyes find Bucky, who won’t look up from the water lapping around his hips and you frown. 

You guess they were bound to win something eventually. 

Peter Parker - Hero Tribe 

“We won! Our second win in almost twenty days. I never thought I’d be so happy to sit out here and play ocean basketball in the pouring rain.” He laughs ecstatically. “We won! We won! We won!” 

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe 

“Shit.” 

Bucky can’t even look you in the eye. He’s so upset with his performance and his inability to stop Parker from that winning shot. The entire tribe is silent as they make the freezing walk in the pouring rain back to camp. 

Nobody wants to say it, but losing momentum like this is only bad news. He knows every single person here is now afraid their winning streak is officially done and with no merge in sigh that means battling it out for votes. 

He feels something brush against his hand and he looks up at your, shivering beside him in the shelter. “It’s not your fault.” You say quietly. You scoot closer. He can see the whites of your eyes and a vague outline of your face as the two of you lay looking at each other. 

“I let him get that shot.” Bucky whispers back sullenly. He can feel you hesitate before moving until you’re pressed against him, chest to chest, and wrap an arm around his waist. It’s a welcome relief, the warmth that comes with being wrapped up with you, but it makes Bucky’s entire body flush and his heart race. “I’m like, double his size, I could’ve gotten him down easily.”

Bucky’s arm comes up to wrap around your waist as the two of you whisper. “They destroyed all of us, Buck. We didn’t score one point. You can’t blame that all on you. It was a team effort.” 

Bucky doesn’t respond, his mind drifting to what will happen now. He can swallow losing a reward challenge, it just meant one more night of rice and dirty hair. He signed up for thirty-nine of those. Bucky was more worried about what happens now that momentum was gone.

Could the tribe pull it together for the next immunity challenge, or is this the end of their reign? And if it was, what would the two of you do? Numbers were numbers, and one long shot plan working doesn’t magically mean you and Bucky are safe. 

Your thumbs press over Bucky’s eyebrows effectively smoothing the wrinkles that had formed while overthinking. “Get out of that head.” You smile up at him. “There’s nothing we can do now but try to stay warm and get some sleep before tomorrow’s challenge. Okay?”

“Okay.” Bucky swallows as your wrap yourself tighter around him. If anyone asks in the morning, you’ll both say it was for warmth. Sleeping apart just wouldn’t make sense in this storm. 

Day Seventeen 

When the show airs and your friends ask why your tribe lost this immunity challenge you’ll blame the rain again. The torrential downpour has caused the small cracks in your tribe’s foundation to widen and left you all struggling to work together. 

While you and Darcy argued over puzzle pieces, Peter and Shuri flourished. They saw the same thing at the same time and barely needed to speak as pieces were handed off between them. If it hadn’t been you losing to them, you would’ve loved watching it happen. 

You’ll blame the rain for ruining your sleep and making your hands shrivel up and so cold they shake. You’ll come up with every excuse in the book except for what everyone else knows to be true; The heroes were the better team in that challenge. 

You can’t worry about it right now though. Right now you have to figure out a way to get anybody but you or Bucky off the tribe tonight without any numbers or idols to help you. 

“What would you think about voting for Tony or Darcy tonight?” Clint has huddled up with you and Bucky on one side of the shelter with one of your tribe’s two comforters while the other three members do the same. 

You make sure to keep your voice barely a whisper and turn your head so your lips can’t be read by anybody but Clint and Bucky. His eyes cut to Natasha over your shoulder before back to you. “You joking?” He asks just as quiet. 

You and Bucky look at each other before shrugging in sync. “The merge is awhile away. We’re gonna be stuck in these tribes for a long time, you know it. You need Bucky and I if you want to keep your name off the chopping block.” 

“Why? Darcy would be on the chopping block before me.” Clint shrugs. You look over your shoulder again and watch as Tony and Natasha talk to one another as Darcy tries to nap. None of them pay any mind to the group of you. You’re sure it’s because they assume nothing would happen with Clint here to watch you and Bucky.  

Obviously they underestimated you. “Maybe. Or maybe whichever person is left between Bucky and I would team up with Tony and Darcy to take one of the troublesome two out.” You smirk, Bucky smiles and Clint just blinks. “Because if I were smart, like Tony Stark, I’d agree that keeping two of the greatest to ever play together was dumb.” 

There’s a breath of silence, where all you can hear is the rain still pounding against the makeshift roof of your shelter before Clint finally nods. “If I can get a second alone with Nat I’ll try to talk to her, but I don’t see Tony moving from this shelter before tribal tonight.” 

You - Villain Tribe 

“It’s a gamble. Trying to turn Clint in the middle of this storm that has no end in sight.” You look up as the rain continues to pour down. “If anyone can convince Natasha to give us a few more days, it’s him though. They’re family.” 

Clint Barton - Villain Tribe 

“Is it risky considering her past? One hundred percent. It’s smart though. Tony could easily team up with Bucky and Darcy next tribal to break up Nat and I and make himself stronger. It’s a no-brainer. Keep the person without an ally over the person who does.” 

“Villains, almost three weeks and this is only the third challenge your tribe has lost. Is that something you’re proud of?” Jeff is bone dry as everyone sits in front of the fire and ignores the pouring rain.

It’s the warmest Bucky has been all day. If his fate in the game wasn’t looming over him, he might even be glad to arrive at tribal council and huddle beside this huge fire. 

“I think we’re proud of how far we’ve come and we understand every good thing comes to an end.” Tony answers for the group. Bucky can barely resist rolling his eyes. “It’s time to trim some fat.” 

That gets a reaction out of Bucky as his eyebrows shoot up and he can only assume you look the same in front of him because Jeff’s eyes shoot the two of you and he smirks. “You disagree, Bucky?” 

“I just want to know what fat he wants to trim.” Bucky looks down the line at Tony. “Who here is the weak link?” 

“I don’t want to call anybody out and make them feel bad, but every team has fat. It only makes sense to get rid of it for the sake of the team.” He won’t look at you or Bucky as he speaks. 

It has Bucky’s blood pressure rising as he stares at the man in anger. “You don’t want to name names because you know you’re wrong.” There’s no question in Bucky’s tone. “Because you know Y/N and I aren’t really fat, you’re just terrified of going against one of us.”

“Just admit it, Tony.” You chime in. “This week it’s me. Next week it’s Nat. Then it’s Darcy. You don’t want strong women in this final with you because you’ve seen what we can do.” 

Bucky’s eyes find Clint’s and they stare at each other for a moment before Clint moves his stare to red head beside him. Bucky can only hope she votes for Tony tonight too. That they’ve somehow pulled this miracle out. 

“it has nothing to do with women and everything. to do with how strong you are you. You’ve won. Why would I want that?” Tony narrows his eyes.

Jeff laughs. “Woah. Woah. Woah. So, Tony, she’s right? You’re admitting she’s not the weak link, but you do want to get rid of her?” Jeff attempts to clarify. “You’re really voting for you tonight, not the team.” 

There’s a tense silence after Jeff finishes his sentence. “That sounds right to me. Nat?” Your voice cuts through the air. “Sounds like Tony wants to get rid of strong people. You playing Tony’s game?”

“How did this get turned around on me?” Tony’s voice is shocked. “Only an idiot would keep a winner in this game.” 

Bucky can’t even see your face, but he knows there’s a smirk there as you nod in agreement. “Only an idiot would keep a winner. And there are three of them to choose from tonight, let’s just make the right choice guys.” 

“Let’s vote then!” Jeff claps. “Bucky, go ahead and take the urn to place the first vote.”

Bucky’s Vote - Tony 

“I’ve got to win this time. You got that check and that title. It’s my turn.” 

Clint’s Vote - Tony 

“I hope Nat heard what they were saying tonight, and that she understands ’m doing this for both of us.” 

Your Vote - Tony 

“There can only be one and it will be me.” 

You can’t stop your leg from shaking as Jeff retrieves the urn of votes to read out. Tony had said a few things tonight, but that didn’t mean it was enough to turn the tribe on him. 

It could be you, you think as Jeff recites his hidden immunity idol speech. You swallow thickly at the silence that occurs when nobody steps forward with one. This was it. 

“I’ll read the votes.” Jeff takes off the lid and reaches in for the first piece of paper. It’s almost slow motion when he unfolds it and reads of your name. When the paper is flipped you recognize Darcy’s handwriting and scrunch your nose up at the small frown drawn in the corner. 

You turn to look at Bucky as your own vote with Tony’s name comes out. ‘Breathe.’ He mouths to you with a reassuring hand on your back. Jeff reads your name two more times. 

“That’s three votes for Y/N and one for Tony.” He pulls out another piece of paper. “Tony. That’s two for Tony. One vote left.” 

You almost cry when Jeff doesn’t begin his voted out speech. “Tony. That means we have a tie.” Your head whips around to look at Bucky again who smiles. “Here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to vote again, you can only vote for Tony or Y/N. They will not vote. The person with the most votes will go home. Got it? Good. Darcy, you’ll vote first.” 

Darcy’s Vote - You

“I... I’ve just got to go with my original vote. I don’t know what happened here.” 

Bucky’s Vote - Tony 

“Please, Nat. Please. Please. Please.”

Waiting for these votes are worse than the first round of votes. You can’t even look at Clint and Natasha, completely unsure of which of two would end up switching their vote. Your hopes were set on Nat recognizing Clint’s handwriting and understanding that’s where he wanted to go, but it’s just not a for sure thing and your heart is beating fast. 

Your foot is tapping incessantly on the ground. Bucky’s hand is resting on your lower back as Jeff begins to read the votes. Neither of you can imagine the other going home right now, not with this much game left to play. 

Jeff says your name. Then Tony’s. Then his again. You almost scream when his name comes out a third time. You look over to Nat and Clint. ‘Thank you.’ You mouth as Tony’s torch is extinguished. 

They nod subtly before turning to look at Jeff again. “Villains, you once again have proven that nobody is safe in this game. Especially those who think they are. Head back to camp, I’ll see you at the next challenge.” 

Natasha Romanoff - Villain Tribe 

“I don’t know why Clint switched his vote, but he told me he would explain it to me tomorrow. I’m just hoping he didn’t screw us over royally.” 

Day Eighteen 

The rain has finally taken a break and the clouds have parted to reveal the sun. Bucky can’t stop staring at your legs as the sun hits them just right. You’re glowing. 

You’ve lost weight, everybody does on this show, but it hasn’t changed much about you. He still finds his eyes trailing over your body and getting caught on your neck and hands and legs. Imagining them wrapped around him - sue him - he’s young and been stuck on an island with nothing more than some cuddles. 

He finds himself wanting to kiss you more and more everyday and that kind of scares him. He’s hoping for the merge for individual rewards he might get to take you on more than he is for finally being off this tribe. 

“Earth to Bucky.” Sand hits his chest and Bucky straightens out his back as you stand above him giggling. “Where’s your head at, handsome?” 

There’s already red on his cheeks from the sun and despite the feint burning sensation it leaves, he’s thankful for it covering up his blush. “Just thinking about the merge. What our plan will be.” 

“If we can get ourselves to the merge, I think we’re set.” You drop to sit beside him on the sand. “Besides, we have a whole day off. No challenge or anything, just enjoy us still being here. You worry too much.”

Bucky shakes his head with a laugh. “You don’t worry enough.” He nudges your foot with his own. “We’re hanging on by a thread here, sweets.” 

“We’ve flipped the vote twice now. I think we have a fighting chance here, Buck.” You giggle softly. Your hands dig into the sand as you lean back on them and lift your chin. 

Bucky swallows as his eyes trail down your neck and chest. “You’re right.” He pushes the words out. “Humor me, though? What our plan for the merge is?”

“If we lose again, hopefully we can convince Nat and Clint to get rid of Darcy. That should bring us right into the merge where we can break them up by working with Shuri and Wanda.” You explain quietly. 

Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Shuri and Wanda were on opposite sides in that tribal we saw. Then they voted off Scott, what makes you think Wanda will be safe until the merge?” 

“I don’t, I’m just going off of what ifs here. I just know that I know Wanda and Shuri, I’m hoping they’ll trust me and work together. We’ll need numbers and they’ll have them. There’s no way Steve will listen to my opinion, but he’ll listen to Wanda’s.” You turn your head to look at Bucky and let out a sigh. “It’s just an idea. We have to see what happens at the next challenge, okay? I can’t plan everything out.” 

Bucky shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to have you plan everything out. I just wanted to know where your head was at. Not all of us have won this game, some of us want to make it far.” He regrets the words right away. Bucky knows good and well that you were taking this game just a serious, he doesn’t really know why he even implied that you weren’t. “Lis-”

“Obviously, you’re stressed.” You cut him off as you stand up. “I’ll let you take a breather. Cool off. But don’t snap at me because you’re anxious. It’s not my fault we’re here. We’ve been working together, if we go down it’s because of both of us. Not just one.” 

Bucky almost cowers back. He’s put off by your intent gaze and harsh tone. He’s never been on the receiving end of it and he had underestimated how small it could make someone feel. 

You dust the sand off of your thighs. “I’ve done a lot for us. I’ve been the brains behind a lot of these votes, Bucky. Don’t ever try and diminish that because I don’t go around talking to everyone or because I don’t perform as well as you in competitions. It’s disrespectful and a good way to get voted off.” You hiss before stomping down the beach. 

Bucky can only watch as you go, guilt squeezing his chest and consuming his mind. 

You - Villain Tribe 

“I trust him. I know he’s just anxious about what could happen, but he needs to understand I’m just as good at this game. That I know how to play.” You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t think I would actually vote him out, but I need him to know we’re equal partners. I have just as much power as he does.” 

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // omgomgomg hi! this took a little longer than i thought just because i’m on vacation and haven’t had time to write until tonight! i hope you enjoyed this, a lot more content and some more changes in the game! i’m so excited for how this is coming together and it’s been so fun to writer! 

thank you so much for reading & i hope you enjoyed this part. i write for free, if you can please consider donating to my ko-fi! if you can’t, please reblog/reply, comments mean a lot to writers!

[berriusagi]

Stomach Bug Ch1

Morning Sickness

idea from @beautiful-disasters-sunshine this is the first fanfic I’ve written in years. If it’s bad let me know I’m just trying my best since I like this idea. In this fic Mari and Dami are 17/18 and Hawkmoth has been defeated so there’s no fighting during this pregnancy. dialog heavy so sorry in advance.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

The rare occurrence of a quiet and peaceful morning was always nice to have in a city like Gotham where despair and misfortune seemed to thrive. Occasions like this are often cherished but everyone knows to be wary as anything could ruin the moment, such as the retching and coughing coming from the bathroom that had two very concerned women and equally concerned miniature god standing outside the door.

“Marigold, are you okay?” Ivy asked gently knocking on the door wincing as she heard another painful retch from the other side of the door, “Darling open the door please.”

“I’m-” another broken cough was heard breaking the weak voice in the bathroom, “I’m… okay just some food poisoning I think.” 

“Mari sweetie you’ve been puking your guts out for a week.” Harley said leaning on the door frame, “I don’t think it’s just some food poisoning. You need to see a doctor.”

“You’re a doctor,” Marinette said, her sickness seeming to have finally come to an end as she flushed the toilet.

“I’m a psychiatrist hon there’s a big difference.” Harley said looking at Ivy concerned as the sound of running water filled the silence as Marinette brushed her teeth, “We’re taking you to see a doctor if this was just a stomach bug you’d have gotten better by now.”

“She’s right Marinette,” Tikki said, settling onto Ivy’s shoulder as they all watched the door, “It’ll make us all feel better if you just see the doctor.”

Silence filled the area as they all waited for Marinette to reply before a soft sigh was heard and the door clicked open revealing an exhausted young woman, “I don’t want to be a bother.” she mumbled averting her eyes from the two women before her.

Ivy let out a soft sigh moving forward and pulled her close to her chest gently running her fingers through her hair as Tikki floated down to press into Marinette's neck to give her some comfort, “You are and never will be a burden to us, Marigold. We care for you and want the best so please don’t think something as unavoidable as getting sick is a burden.”

“She’s right darling we love you and want you to be safe and healthy so please let us take you to a doctor that’s licensed in medicine,” Harley said, stepping over to hug her effectively squishing Marinette between Ivy and herself.

Marinette closed her eyes and just took a moment to sort through her thoughts and take in the warmth of the two women that adopted her. Her life had been just on the wrong side of crazy for so long, Hawkmoth terrorizing everyone for having emotions, her friends and family turning on her because of one liar determined to ruin her life, having to hide her relationship from not only her very perceptive mothers but her boyfriends equally perceptive and just a touch insane family. All of that and now being sick with something just to put the cherry on top of an already bad situation. “Okay,” she mumbled after a prolonged moment and turned to bury her face into Ivy’s chest and breathed deep taking in the subtle earthy and floral notes that clung to her, “I’ll see a doctor.”

“Thank you,” Ivy smiled gently, kissing the crown of her head, and looked over at Harley with a measured look, “go and get ready and we’ll head on over to the clinic,” she said as both women stepped back to allow her to head over to her room.

Once she was gone and out of earshot Harley leaned over and in a stage whisper said, “10 bucks says she’s pregnant.”

“I’d disagree if not for the fact she’s trying to hide her relationship with the Wayne brat.” Ivy chuckled, shaking her head, “Let's hope it is just a stomach bug and not a stomach bug .” she said giving Harley a look as they went to change into more civilian clothing so as not to draw attention to themselves. 

The three women made their way into a small clinic and got checked in taking a seat in the corner out of the way of others. Marinette was seated between the two nervous and practically sweating bullets as she gripped her sweater while her mind raced. A soft pressing on her thigh from Tikki gave her some ease as she stared down at her trembling hands. What if she was really sick and the financial cost would put her mothers in debt? What if she wasn’t sick and this was all a waste of time? What if they already think she’s being a burden and are waiting for her to get called in so they can leave her? What if-

“Miss. Isley-Quinzel?” A nurse called cutting through Marinette's internal struggle.

“Ah here!” she said jumping up her face beat red as she quickly made her way over to the nurse with her mothers following close behind.

“I’m sorry only one of you can come back.” The nurse said looking at the two women.

“I’ll stay this article was gettin good,” Harley said flopping back down into her seat and reopened the gossip rag she was reading. Ivy shook her head smiling and placed a comforting hand on Marinette’s shoulder and walked with her into the small room.

“So Miss what are you in for today?” the nurse asked closing the door so they could all have privacy and took a seat.

“I’ve been throwing up for the past week,” Marinette said taking a seat on the paper-lined table keeping her head down.

“Any other symptoms?” the nurse asked looking over the file in her hands, “fever, headaches, muscle pain?” they asked.

“No nothing like that… I have been getting more sick after eating, maybe I have food poisoning?” Marinette asked.

“Are you sick after eating every time or only certain foods?” the nurse asked.

“I’m not sure I haven’t paid much attention to what I eat that’s causing me to be sick,” she mumbled.

The nurse nodded making some notes, “well just to rule it out I’ll need you to take a pregnancy test.” they said, grabbing a little plastic cup and handing it to Marinette, “bathroom is just to the right of this room go fill this cup and we’ll see if we can get you some answers.” they smiled and opened the door to let Marinette out.

Marinette turned scarlet and then pale as she walked out of the room and went to the bathroom. Ivy watched her leave before pulling out her phone and sent a quick text to Harley, ‘Marigold is taking a pregnancy test. She looks terrified.’

‘I really think she’s pregnant. She’s been sick and she’s been turning away from some of her favorite foods.’ Harley shot back after a few moments.

Ivy nodded putting her phone away as Marinette came back and took her seat on the table once more. She seemed to be running through the worst possible scenarios as her face slowly morphed from a sickly pale to an even sicklier green as they waited for the nurse to return with the results. 

What felt like hours to Marinette was only a few minutes as a doctor came in smiling softly to Marinette and Ivy. “Hello, I’m Doctor Beau.” She smiled pulling a seat over and looked over the file given, “You came in for problems with nausea?”

“Yes, my daughter has been throwing up all week and we’re concerned,” Ivy said as it looked like Marinette wouldn’t be able to speak without being sick again.

“It is quite concerning and as you know we do have to rule out certain options before we can administer tests.” Dr. Beau nodded looking over the files once more, “The pregnancy test we had your daughter take came back positive.” she said gently trying to gauge the two women.

Marinette went stock still as tears began to well in her eyes clouding her vision as her world seemed to come crashing down around her. Ivy moved quickly to stand by Marinette wrapping her up in a hug and stroked her hair and back. “It’s okay Marigold,” she soothed, grabbing some tissues to clean her face, “It’s going to be okay just breathe.”

“I can’t tell you what to do Miss.” Dr. Beau said, gaining Marinette’s attention, “However, I can give you some pamphlets and a referral to a nice OB-GYN, they can help you make the choice best for you.” she smiled gently getting up and wrote a quick script before handing it to Ivy along with some pamphlets. 

Everything after seemed to happen in a blur. Marinette didn’t fully process anything until she was being seated on a soft couch and felt two bodies pressing firmly to either side of her. “Mari, sweetie, please talk to us.” Harley’s accented voice softly sounded from her left broke the dam on her emotions as she let out a broken sob.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” she cried curling in on herself as the two women quickly wrapped her up in a firm hug as Tikki pressed into her cheek all three talking over each other trying to soothe her.

“Marigold it happens.” Ivy said gently holding her face, “We’re not mad, disappointed, or upset with you.” she said wiping her face, “We are here to help you and support you in any decision you decide to make.”

“Do ya know who the daddy is?” Harley asked gently, rubbing her back trying to get her to settle down just a bit. Marinette took a shaky breath, her face blotchy and nose stuffy as she nodded her head, “Here’s what we’re gonna do okay hon. I’m goin to go make you some calming tea and you are goin to call your boyfriend and tell him to come over here. Okay?” she asked looking in Mari’s eyes.

Marinette nodded scrubbing her face with her sleeve as Tikki pulled her phone up for her to take.

~.~.~.~

On the other side of Gotham seated for breakfast and contemplating the benefits of mass homicide, Damian was eating his food as his family did their best to make him go off the deep end.

“I’m just saying!” Jason said munching on some bacon, “Maybe if he got laid he wouldn’t have a stick so far up his a-”

“That is enough Jason,” Bruce stated firmly as he rubbed his eyes exhaustion clearly written all over his face.

“You just don’t want to hear my reasoning,” Jason said flicking a piece of toast at him.

“No, I want to remain ignorant of my child's sex life. I already had to deal with Dick telling me everything I rather not hear your speculations.” He glared as the table fell silent for a few blissful moments as they all turned to look at a shameless Dick who just smiled and shrugged before a loud ringing cut through and all eyes turned to Damian as he pulled out his phone.

“Hello?” he asked his usual annoyance bleeding through before he seemed to pause as the other person on the line spoke, “What’s happening?” he asked as he quickly got to his feet, worry clear on his face as he rushed out of the room, “I’m coming habibti please stop crying.” was the last thing the other Wayne’s heard before the front door slammed shut.

“What...” Jason started staring wide-eyed at where Damian just vanished through

“...just happened?” Dick finished looking just as confused before everyone turned to look at Bruce for his reaction.

“Habibti means my love,” Bruce said in lieu of an answer as they all then turned to look at Tim as he tapped away on a tablet.

“Already tracking him,” Tim said as silence settled back over the room as everyone tried to process what just happened. In the opinion of everyone gathered it took much too long for Tim to tell them where Damian left in such a hurry before finally looking up at everyone and said, “He’s at Harley and Ivy’s.”

~.~.~.~

Damian quickly knocked on the door, his clothes a little disheveled and his hair a bit messy from his mad dash across the city to the apartment housing the Isley-Quinzels. Ivy opened the door and stepped aside to allow him to enter and watched as he ran over to Marinette who was on her fourth cup of calming tea her tears now dry but her mind still frazzled.

“Habibti, are you okay?” he asked, dropping in front of her as her eyes began to well with a new wave of tears, and sobs began to wrack her small body once more. Damian quickly picked her up holding her close and rubbed her back as she choked out apologies sobbing into his shoulder. “Habibti, you're making me really worried; what happened?” he asked, trying to get her to look at him.

Marinette took a slow shaky breath before pulling back and looked at him, her bluebell eyes filled with unshed tears before she softly croaked out, “I’m... pregnant.” 

Damian’s eyes widened just slightly as he took in what she said a cold chill settling over his body as he stumbled back falling into the chair Harley quickly moved behind him to catch him. Marinette let out another sob and moved to get out of his hold only for him to hold onto her tighter, “You’re pregnant?” he asked just above a whisper as he stared through her.

She nodded biting her lip hard as she waited for him to shout, shove her away, anything to show his anger. Instead, he pulled her even closer burying his face in her neck, and let out a shaky laugh, “You’re pregnant.” he muttered, “I- I’m going to be a father.” he said, pulling back to look at her.

Tension seemed to leave Marinette like snow melting at the beginning of spring as she weakly smiled at him nodding, “If...” she coughed to clear her throat and scrubbed her face with her sleeve again to look at him, “If you want to...” she mumbled.

“Of course I want to Habibti.” Damian breathed hugging her tightly before pulling back to look down at her stomach and gently ran his fingers over the covered flesh, “I can’t believe this.” he muttered looking at her with awe.

Harley and Ivy smiled watching the two have their heartfelt moment before deciding to break it, “What’s your dad gonna say?” Harley asked cutting through the tender moment with as much grace as a blunt axe.

Damian felt another cold wave wash over him at the mention of his father as his eyes widened, “My family doesn’t know about you.” he muttered looking at Marinette.

“They’re going to think I did this to trap you,” Marinette mumbled her face going to a sickly green as she shoved her way out of Damian's arm and ran into the bathroom slamming it shut as retching filled the apartment once more.

“You have to tell them.” Harley said watching Damian, “before she starts showing she’s small so it’ll be obvious soon enough.”

The apartment fell into silence with the only sound being Marinette’s morning sickness for a long while before a ringing cut through and Damian pulled out his phone. Father clear as day showing on the screen for the awaiting call. Damian stared at it until it went silent and then lit up with another incoming call from Bruce. “I have to answer don’t I?” he asked looking over at Ivy and Harley.

“Unless you want them all stormin in here then yeah,” Harley said, sipping some of the tea she made for Marinette.

Damian sighed and took a deep breath before answering the call, “Hello father.”

[seiyasabi]

きつね (Fox)

(I wanted to try something different and write a few Romaji (ローマ字) words in Hiragana (ひらがな)! I promise it won’t be throughout the fic, but I thought it would be fun for those learning Japanese to practice :)) 

Here’s a !DARK! Kitsune (きつね) Kakyoin (かきょいん) x Female Reader story! Please proceed with extreme caution! 

TW: !NONCON!, !Foul Dirty talk!, !breeding kink!, !knotting!, !Size kink!, use of pepper spray!, you’re in the forest!,!no prep!, !gagging!,  !predator/prey elements!, violence!, mentions of blood and small wounds!, !mentions of drug use and alcohol! (Not you or in detail),  etc.. 

I’m sorry if this is too OOC!) 

“Go to the forest, they said, it’ll be fun, they said,” You grumble to yourself, nearly tripping over a stray tree root. All you want to do is get out of this damn forest and pass out in your dormitory bed, but it seems like Mother Nature has another plan for you. 

Currently, you’re regretting going into the creepy woods near your college. You’d only gotten to this college a few months prior, having transferred from your college in (prefecture/country) to one in rural Japan, and you thought this would be a fun experience. Your new friends claimed that the parties at a certain campground were wild and entertaining, but so far, you’d only seen a few drunken fights, you watched a girl snort a line off of another girls’ chest, and were almost shoved into the bonfire. After all of this, and the fact that your friends left you alone, you decided it was time to head home. 

But, as it turns out, you walked in the opposite direction of the parking lot, getting yourself absolutely lost in the hauntingly beautiful forest. Cursing yourself for your stupidity, you tried to bring up google maps, only to be stopped by that godforsaken icon of ‘no service.’ 

So, you opted for your phone’s flashlight, trying in vain to figure out where was North and where was South. 

“Fucking hell, I know I didn’t walk too far from the campsite, how did I get so lost?” Stumbling once again, you almost fall flat on your face, only to be stopped by a pale hand. The slender, long fingered hand grips the fat of your forearm in a firm grasp, holding you up. Seeing this, a horrified scream leaves your lips before you can stop it, thinking that the thing in front of you was an Onryō. 

Looking up, you’re suddenly face to face with a large, breathtaking man in a red and white kimono. His long, red hair is twisted into an intricate updo, highlighting his sharp jawline. That, in turn, shows off his dangling earrings, which just barely brush his cheek. His purple eyes twinkle in your phone’s flashlight, a small smirk quirking his full lips. 

“Hello there,” The redhead's voice is smooth, sounding like whipped butter personified, “Are you lost?” 

Knowing better than to expose your vulnerability, you shake your head no, “O-oh, no, sir. I’m just heading back to the party. I’m sorry if I bothered you,” You try to wrench your arm from his grip, but he seemingly grabs on harder. 

“There’s no need to lie, I heard your grumblings a few moments ago. I’ve also watched your sorry attempts of hiking through the foliage, and I’d be happy to help,” You eye him suspiciously, not trusting him for a second. 

“No thank you. I’m not so sure I trust a weird man alone in the forest. I hope you understand,” He laughs at your words, sounding like wind chimes. You shift your feet in discomfort, wondering what is so funny about your cautious words. 

“Don’t be silly. There’s a temple near here that I upkeep, and I was walking to the parking lot to head to a 7/11 near here. I’m heading in the same direction as you, so-“ He continues to speak, but you don’t hear a word. You never mentioned the parking lot, and if he was heading there, you’re pretty sure he would’ve just used a path that you carelessly disregarded. Noticing your sudden change of discomfort to extreme fear, he tries to comfort you, “Why that look? I promise I won’t hurt you. Here, why don’t you come to the temple and-“ 

You don’t give him time to manipulate you, suddenly whipping out your gel pepper spray. Chucking the cap in a random direction, you check that the nozzle is facing him, before spraying at full blast. A loud bark-like scream echoes through the air, as you’re suddenly released by his iron grip. Shoving him over, you start to sprint in the direction you just came from.  

“Come back here!” The red haired man yells, a deep growl reverberating through his chest. That urges you to run faster. Flashlight aimed at the ground, you leap and hop over foliage and debris, trying your hardest to evade the freak of a man currently after you. You can hear his footsteps behind you, the forest suddenly silent. 

Your body runs cold at the realisation; just what is this man, and why are the critters so afraid of him? 

Not deciding to find out, you then run in a zigzag fashion, trying to get him off of your tail. The crunch of sticks and leaves are constant, the loudest ones being the hulking man behind you. 

“You can’t outrun me, Pretty Girl!” 

Your chase goes on for a while longer, until you see the unmistakable light of a fire. This causes you to go faster, the idea of safety appealing. 

But, unfortunately for you, you didn’t notice the undeniable silence ahead of you. When you left, the music was practically earth shattering, along with the chatter of inebriated college kids and the loud noise of their cars and motorcycles. 

When you reach the fire, you’re greeted with the sight of a dark wooden structure. It’s a temple, but it looks a lot bigger than a normal Shintō one. In fact, it looks straight out of the fantasy anime your roommate made you watch with her. 

Taking your chances with the forest, you turn to run back into the dark green foliage, only to be tackled back first onto the stick covered dirt below. The twigs stab into your uncovered covered skin, drawing blood, as the kimono clad man above you pants in both pain and anger. 

He brings his face close to yours, making you turn yours away from his with a whimper. His warm breath fans across your uncovered neck, his purple eyes practically glowing down at you. The white around his irises are bright red and teary, showing the effect your weapon has against him. In the lightly you notice two flattened ears on the top of his head, making you gasp in surprise and confusion. Was this a guardian of the Forest? Or was this a demon here to steal your soul? 

“Why must you hurt me? I haven’t done anything to you,” He sounds somewhat hurt that you maced him, but who could blame you? If some creep approaches you in the forest, you fight first, ask questions later. 

“Why are you coming after me? There’s no reason for you to chase after me,” One of his rough hands grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His mouth is parted slightly, his sharp teeth glinting in the fire light as his face twists into a smirk. 

“It’s always fun chasing after prey,” He leans in closer, lips just barely touching yours, “Especially when the prey is as adorable as you. Now, we can do this the hard way, or the easy way; if you let me have you, we can go at your pace. If you don’t, I’ll take you however I want.” 

To say you’re shocked is an understatement, “Wha-what do you mean, ‘take me’? Didn’t you just say that you’re going to eat me?” 

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I’m still quite full from the meal I had earlier. I should thank those villagers; without them, I wouldn’t have been able to eat those delicious friends of yours,” All blood leaves your face, did he just say that he ate-

Looking at his kimono, you realise that the red isn’t a pattern at all; it’s blood splatter! 

“Oh my god,” You place a shaking hand on his chest, trying to push him away, “What the fuck? Holy shit- is that why the forest is so quiet? They know it’s your feeding time? Holy fuck-“ He silences you with a heated kiss, practically forcing his tongue down your throat. Lithe hands grope at your cropped tank top covered breasts, trying to squeeze the fat underneath, only to be blocked by your push up bra. Shoving with your entire weight, you’re still unable to force him off of you. Without thinking, you bite down on his tongue, drawing out another bark of pain from the ginger. 

That gives you enough time to breathe and regain your composure. Trying to wiggle out from underneath the muscular male, you’re quickly lifted and flipped onto your front, face pressed against the dirty ground. 

“My mother always told me that females are hard to get, but I never knew it would be this painful,” He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the ground near your head, making you cringe away from that spot, scraping your chest against a particularly sharp twig. A small yelp escapes your throat at the pain, trying in vain to use your arms as a barrier against the sticks and stones below you, “Awe, did my pretty girl hurt herself? That’s okay, I’ll still think that you’re pretty.” 

“Get off of me! What are you trying to do? If you’re going to eat me, get over with it already!” Finally being able to push yourself up onto your forearms, you try to buck him off of you, only to hear a high pitched whine echo out from behind you. Freezing in surprise, you peek at him from, only to be met with a ruby red face. 

“Did you know that foxes go through a mating season?” 

“What the hell does that have to do with any-?” You’re suddenly shoved back onto the floor, tits practically spilling out of your top. 

“I’m going to breed your empty womb, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re going to bear me many cute pups, and you’re going to stay here with me until the end of your days.” 

“Go find some female kitsune! I don’t want to have your babies!” Your stomach scrapes painfully against stones below you, dripping more blood onto the dirt. 

“But that’s the thing- you don’t get a choice, Pretty Pretty. You clearly can’t care for yourself! You got lost in the woods, for Gods’ sake! Now, obey your mate, and let me in,” He looks down at your cute mini-skirt, and flips it over your ass, exposing your emerald green thong. His cool fingers ghost over your unblemished ass cheeks, a hitched breath echoing through the Kitsune’s chest, “Oh, pretty girl, did you wear this for me? How did you know my favourite colour?” 

“Get off of me! I didn’t do any-“ He suddenly rips your panties from your cute cunt, before shoving them into your open mouth. You try to spit it out, but are unable to. Tears gather in your eyes, as you start to cry. This strange man is about to do the worst thing a person can do, and he doesn’t seem to care about your feelings. 

“Don’t cry, I’ll take care of you and our pups,” He spreads your legs open, giving him easier access to your soft pussy, “Ah, there’s your pretty cunt. Everything about you is so pretty, aren’t you lucky? If it weren’t for that and your perfect fertile womb, I would’ve eaten you.” 

He kneels on your shins, shoving down your front, arching your ass up into the air. 

“You smell amazing. It’s like your body is just calling for my thick seed. Don’t worry, Pretty Girl,

I’ll give it to you.” 

You hear his kimono shift, most likely pulling out his cock. This makes you choke on your sobs, as you try to pretend that this moment isn’t happening. That some monster of the forest isn’t about to breed you full of his-

A scream escapes your throat the moment you feel his wet cock head against your unprepared pussy. You thought he’d at least prepare your cunt, but it seems that he’s trying to go in dry. He grunts when he feels you starting to thrash, using the hand that once held his cock to smack your ass harshly. 

“Stop it. You can’t change my mind! Jotaro will be so jealous when he finds out I got the most beautiful, fertile, and resourceful mate. Now, hold still,” You don’t understand what he’s talking about, but you can’t help but feel shame. You know his friend’s name, but not his own! The least your rapist could do is tell you his name! As if sending this, he rubs one of your ass cheeks reassuringly, “I suppose you’d like to know your mate’s name, huh? I’m Noriaki Kakyoin. There’s no need for you to say your name, I heard you introduce yourself to those… disgusting humans earlier. But don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with them ever again.” 

He releases your ass in favour of gripping his cock once more, pushing its tip into you with some trouble. You scream through your makeshift gag, the pain of him pushing in feeling like he’s tearing your pussy apart. 

“Awe, are you a virgin? My mom always said a female’s first time is painful,” You want to shove a stick up his ass unlubed! Let’s see how he likes getting something forced inside of him without preparation! “But don’t worry, you should feel good once I’m fully inside.” 

With that, he forces himself in until he’s fully seated inside of you. Another scream escapes your throat, as you feel a small rivulet of blood dribble from your now torn cunt. By this point, you’re hyperventilating in pain, anxiety, and fear. This man is so thick, that you’re pretty sure your pussy will never go back to its original size ever again. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. I knew you were the right one for me,” When he starts to move, that’s when one of your hands claws at one of his that’s resting on your hip. You feel his skin break under your nails, as you try in vain to make him stop. It feels like he’s splitting you in two! “Does my pretty girl feel good?” You shake your head rapidly, drowning in your pained sobs, “Don’t lie, I feel you getting wet.” 

Can’t he smell that that’s blood? 

You hiccup and wheeze, tears and snot dripping down your pretty face into the dirt. When he starts to buck his hips, you feel like you’re going to throw up. His cock is so heavy inside you, that you feel like he’s rearranging your guts. 

“I feel the opening of your womb on my tip, it’s almost like you’re trying to suck my cock into it!” Kakyoin starts to move his hips faster, making your body go limp. It’s almost like your body is going into shock at the severe pain you’re in, “You sure want my pups, even if you claim you don’t. I’m so close to filling you with my seed, so you won’t have to wait any longer to be filled!” 

He bucks into you at top speed, his own hips crashing into yours harshly. His heavy sack smacks against your ignored clit, sending small jolts of pleasure through your body. But, it’s not enough to make this easier for you. Your pussy is barely producing any slick, making this a lot harder for you to handle. The next time this happens, you know there’s going to be a next time, you should probably explain to him how to prepare you for his horse cock. 

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna fill you up, Pretty Girl. I’m going to make you heavy with five pups, hell, maybe even fifteen! Then once you have them, I’ll fill you up with even more! Doesn’t that sound nice? Your womb will never be lonely again!” 

He thrusts into you with three more powerful thrusts, before slamming his entire length inside of you at once. The head of his cock is right up against your womb, so when his entire length starts to swell, you can practically feel it prying at your cervix. More fat tears rain down your face in this rivulets, your fingers digging into the dirt, cutting up your nimble hands. Kakyoin grunts and growls in a deep voice, savouring the way your walls throw around him in pain. 

Whilst his cock is fully swollen, he releases all the cum he has into you. The large amount of seed isn’t all able to force its way into your cervix, causing it to pool in the canal of your cunt, bloating your stomach out slightly. 

“I can practically smell my seed taking. Your perfect body is accepting me very well, Pretty Pretty. I told you that we’re mates, and this just proves it,” he strokes your head softly, trying to console you as you continue to cry. At this point, he starts to become concerned, why haven’t you stopped crying? “What’s wrong? Didn’t you cum?” 

When you don’t shake or nod your head, he releases one of your hips, in favour of yanking your panties out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe with ease and finally speak. 

“You’re such a Monster,” You sob, face pressed against the cool packed dirt below you, “I-I can’t believe you-if you were going to rape me why didn’t you prepare me?” He makes a small whimpering noise, not quite understanding your gripe. 

“What do you mean?” You start to cry even harder, almost making yourself sick. 

“My pussy is torn open! I’m bleeding! The only one who felt nice is you!” You start to gag, unable to catch your breath properly without somewhat choking on your spit and snot, “Now I’m pregnant with your rape babies, and-and it hurts so bad! Get out of me!” 

You try to yank yourself off of his inflated cock, but he quickly stops you, trying not to hurt you even more. Looking down, he sees a large pool of blood below the place the both of you are connected. He gasps in shock. Sure, he knew that some girls bleed their first time, but this doesn’t look right! 

“What-why are you bleeding so much?” 

“Because you tore me open! I hate you! I hate you! I wish you just killed me!” 

Whilst he’s still stuck inside you, you continue to cry, which makes him feel even worse. He can’t believe that he hurt you so severely. This was never his intention, after all, both parties are supposed to feel good, are they not? 

But now, he’ll never be able to make you love him. 

How could you love someone as monstrous as him? 

[lokis-army-77]

If You Please

Chapter One

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1644

Hi everyone this is my first fic, so please feel free to as constructive criticism.

I'm bad at writing descriptions, so this is basically a reader insert into The First Avenger and then we'll see how it goes from there.

Next>>

Masterlist

It was 1943 when my life changed dramatically. The second world war had been going on for a few years now and with Hitler quickly rising to power it felt as though every young man and woman wanted to help the war cause. This included Steve Rogers, my brother, and James 'Bucky' Barnes, my secret fiancé.

We had all grown up together in Brooklyn and later on Bucky and I started to have more romantic feelings for each other. We've been engaged for two years now but Steve still doesn't know, no one knows. We've planned to tell everyone once Bucky gets back from the war, whenever that will be. Tonight is his last night in New York before he gets shipped off with the 107th to the front.

Currently, unknown to my brother and fiancé, I am working under Agent Peggy Carter in the Strategic Scientific Reserve or SSR for short. They believe I work as a full-time secretary for one of the many recruitment offices in New York. The SSR's work dealing with Hydra is highly classified and very dangerous. Agent Carter and I are not only the only two highly regarded women here but we're both two of the youngest agents.

Now enough with the back story, let's get into how this whole mess started.

It was the day of the Stark Expo, Bucky had decided we would go there for a date and maybe a dance or two before we had to meet Steve. When I had gotten off of work at 5 pm sharp, Bucky was outside the recruitment office waiting.

"James I thought I told you not to wait for me outside of my place of work," I said to him as I walked over to him. He pulled me in close and kissed the top of my head.

"I know, but what kind of fiancé would I be if I didn't come to meet my best girl?" I try to push away from him but he just holds on tighter, chin resting on the top of my head and swaying us side to side.

"Shh be quiet or someone will hear you. We definitely don't need Steve finding out we're engaged yet."

"Fine," he said, letting go of me to then grab onto my hand, "I hope you wore your dancing shoes doll because that's all we're doing until I have to let you go." I giggled and nodded as we crossed the road on our way to Queens, where the expo was being held.

"So doll, did you have a good day at work?"

"Yeah, I just filed more recruitment papers and mailed off important documents. You know, the usual." We turned a corner and headed down to the subway. We walked in a comfortable silence until we got into the subway car. "How was your day today, anything exciting happen?"

"If you call saving your brother from being pummeled to death again exciting then no. Although, seeing you this afternoon has made my day a whole lot better."

I turned to look Bucky in the eyes, "Again? What happened this time?"

"He said he was at the theater and some punk was being disrespectful to the video of the troops overseas. Steve said he spoke up to the man, but you know how that always ends up for him." He unwrapped his hand from mine to then put the same arm around my shoulders.

"I wish he'd lay low, you're not going to be here to break up the fights anymore, and you know how he gets when I try to step in and help."

"Oh one more thing, he tried to enlist again. From New Jersey this time," He chuckled and shook his head.

"I have no clue what I'm going to do with him, James. I know he wants to go fight, but I can't risk having both my best men out there. I don't know what I'd do with myself if both of you left me here." I shifted closer into Bucky's arms. "Come on, our stop is just up ahead."

When we entered the expo all I could do was stare. The lights and technology that Stark had put on display were amazing. Soon I felt a tug at my hand.

"Sweetheart come on I want to get at least one dance in before Steve shows up. I think I see a place we can go over here." Then I was quickly taken to a brightly lit dance floor where couples were gathering to dance to a slower song. Bucky slowly did a little bow and I followed with a small curtsy of my own. I couldn't keep myself from laughing. "Ma'am may I have this dance," he asked, holding his right hand out to me.

"You certainly may," I replied while placing my left hand into his outstretched one. He then wrapped his left arm around my waist and held our entwined hands upright in the air, and my right hand went to rest upon his shoulder. He smiled his signature little smirk.

Then the band started to play and we started to twirl around the dance floor.

After a minute I rested my head on Bucky's shoulder and wrapped my arm under his. "I never want this to end Buck. I'd dance with you forever if that meant you didn't have to go so far away from me."

"Oh, Doll I dread the end of this night. What am I going to do without you by my side every day," Bucky said as he gently rubbed the small of my back. "Somebody's got to go off and protect you and if that means fighting in this war, I'll gladly do it one hundred times over." He looked down at me and then kissed my temple. "Come one I think I see Steve over by the stairs." He let go of my hand and waist more quickly than I would have liked.

"Steve! Look who I found," I called and Bucky and I made our way over to the set of stairs my brother had been wandering about at. I ran over to give him a tight hug. "I heard you had a little scuffle again today and that you tried to enlist. Again." Steve stood there awkwardly and smoothed his hair back with his hand.

"Buck, I thought we agreed that we weren't gonna tell her this time," he said through his teeth at Bucky.

"Hey man it's not my fault your sister is crazy scary when she's trying to get something out of you," he said while putting his hands up in defense.

"Fair enough. But next time you tell her something like that I'll hurt you."

"I'd like to see you try there pal," Bucky retorted while trying to grab at Steve but I interjected before they could make a scene.

"Boys please act like adults, we're at a science and technology expo NOT a playground." They both stopped to look at me. I moseyed over to stand between them both and hooked my arms into theirs. I looked to the right at Bucky then to the left at Steve. "So boys, what should we look at first?"

The night progressed smoothly from there, with us going to see Stark's new flying car invention and many more new and exciting things. We laughed and joked, Bucky and Steve bickered, which I had to intervene in before it became an actual argument. Pretty soon 9 o'clock came and all three of us headed home to Brooklyn. Bucky walked with us to our door and we said our heartfelt goodbyes. After a rather tight hug, he left, strutting down the sidewalk towards his own home, but quickly turned to give a stiff-armed salute. Steve and I turned to go inside.

"Goodnight Stevie, I'll see you tomorrow," I called out down the short hall from my room. I waited for his reply before I shut my door and turned the light off. Gathering up my nightgown I slipped under the covers of my bed. It had been a good day, but the fact that Bucky was leaving in just a few hours kept coming to the forefront of my mind. I laid awake thinking of when I was ever going to see him again. At that moment the window to my room quietly creaked open. I sat up quickly reaching for the bedside lamp. When the weak yellow light filled the room Bucky was standing in the room, tangled in the curtain.

"Bucky what the hell are you doing," I whispered yelled at him.

"Well I thought I'd at least spend my last night stateside with my fiancée, but if you'd like me to leave then I will." He stated matter of factly and turned to go back out the way he had come.

"No don't go," I crawled over to the edge of the bed and reached for his hand, "You just surprised me is all. You haven't come through my window since we were kids." He laughed and let me pull him up to the head of the bed. He fell not so gracefully onto the sheets and swaddled me up close to his chest. I could smell the soap on his skin and the freshness of his nightshirt. I could hear the beat of his heart loudly in my ear as I started to drift off.

"Will you wake me up before you go," I questioned, snuggling further into his chest.

He was quiet for a long time, just laid there with his right hand playing with the ends of my hair. Then he nodded silently and gave the top of my head a long kiss goodnight. "I love you Doll," he mumbled into my hair.

"I love you too Sweetheart," I replied almost quietly enough to not hear.

[det-loki]

poison & wine pt. one

 “I know everything you don’t want me to.”

warnings: angst, cursing

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 1,378

A/N: I’ve read and reread what seems like every detective loki fic and I’ve decided it’s my turn. I’m still relatively new with writing series, but I’m very proud of this. Enjoy, feedback is greatly appreciated! (if you find a grammar mistake, let me know)

REWRITE MASTERLIST

⌽  2  3  4  5  6

You hated the rain. It was cold and wet, always sending a bone-chilling cold through you. It reminded you of too many bad memories. Hospitals, pain, and blood. Yet all it seemed to do in Conyers was rain.

You sat across from Loki while you were toying with your fried rice inside of the vacant restaurant. This was yours and Loki’s spot, always seeming to end up here at least once a week for the past five years. You grew to hate the food but it was a constant in yours and Loki’s life and you refused to mess that up. Too many memories have been made in this shitty restaurant, good and bad.

 Neither you nor David cared much for Thanksgiving and you couldn’t be bothered to cook for just the two of you. It was too depressing, so Chinese food it was. The waitress came to your table with the check and hot tea, Loki reaching for the check before you could. Not once has he ever let you pay for a meal. Even when he could barely afford socks. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, detectives.” You wondered if she was waiting on you two to leave for her to go home to relax and celebrate the holiday. You felt bad, considering you and Loki were the only ones there, like usual.

Loki mutters a ‘thanks’ into his coffee cup before continuing, “Do you have any of the fortune-cookie things?”

The waitress looks at Loki with a smirk, “My boss told me cops don’t like fortune cookies.” Classic. 

David looks down at the zodiac placemat, “What year were you born? Are you a dragon, or a snake, a horse, or a sheep?”

“I’m a monkey.” The waitress ogled David who was barely paying attention to her. You knew he would never act on her advances, he was too caught up in whatever the two of you were. Lovers, roommates, co-workers, family. He was everything to you and vice versa. 

Both you and Loki look down to read, Loki responds, “Oh, you’re a monkey. You’re very intelligent. You have the ability to influence people. Think maybe you could influence your boss to lower the check a little bit?” He was flirting. Sometimes you thought that he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. It’s how he charmed you all those years ago. Both of you young and dumb; too young to know any better or any different.

The waitress brings you out of your head, “No, I cannot. My boss is a rooster.”

Again, both you and Loki look down to inspect as the waitress walks away. Selfish and eccentric. Nice, reminds me of Captain O’Malley.

Loki looks at you with a genuine smile before asking, “What’s your zodiac? I forget.” You loved it when he smiled, he didn’t do it enough. You couldn’t really blame him though, neither did you. 

“Well, considering it’s tattooed on your hand, I feel like you should remember. I’m a horse also a cancer, whichever way you want to look at it.” He had gotten the tattoos a month after it.

Loki laughs and looks down again, “Energetic, passionate, and aspirant. I’d say that’s pretty accurate for you.”

You laugh, “Yeah, what’s yours?” You already knew the answer, it was tattooed into your skin years ago along with two other zodiac symbols next to it. Never allowing you to abandon Conyers or David. You were forever tied to it all, inked permanently.

Loki looks at you, his eyes teasing, “I’m gonna give you the same line. Considering it’s tattooed on your collarbone, I feel like you should remember.”

Before you could respond, both yours and Loki’s phones interrupt with a call. Two missing girls, fuck.

The rain is coming down in sheets as you step out of Loki’s car. You pull your raincoat tighter as you follow David to the RV that was called in surrounded by cops at the edge of the woods.

You take your radio out of your pocket, “13-40 and 13-43 engaging with the suspect. Be advised.”

You creep along with Loki towards the RV as the driver revs the engine, tail lights flashing red against you. The RV violently backs up, Loki instructing everyone to not shoot. The driver changes gears, driving forward and slamming into a tree. You advance forward, gun in hand along with a flashlight. Arriving at the door of the RV, Loki takes your flashlight, “Stay here, keep watch.”

Loki entered the vehicle while you and other officers stood by, waiting. The door opens violently, Loki throwing the suspect out. The man stumbles as Loki takes hold of his jacket, dragging him further into the woods. You followed silently, letting David handle him. He never was gentle with cases when children were involved.

Loki yelled at the man with no response, only a blank stare. David shoved him forward, falling at your feet, “What the fuck is this guy on?”

 You take his forearm and haul him to his feet, instructing an officer to take him to the station while David called out for someone to call PSP. This case was already bad. Fear, and pain already settling into your bones. 

You sat in the interrogation room while Loki had the suspect, Alex Jones, backed against a corner. The interrogation had been going on for 2 hours and nothing useful has been said and Loki was getting impatient. You could see it in the way he squinted his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. He needed a break before he exploded.

“Detective, let me try. Take a break.” Loki looks over his shoulder at you, frustrated. He knew you were right but he didn’t want to give up. With a hard sigh, he left the room. Alex visibly relaxed as Loki left.

You had your suspicions about Alex’s cognitive abilities by the way he was speaking, you wouldn’t be able to confirm until the psychologist arrived. Your best bet was to speak as if you were speaking to a child, “Alex, would you like to sit down with me?”

Alex nodded his head, slowly shuffling towards the chair sat across from you. He visibly trembled as he sat down.

“Alex, is it okay with you if I ask you some questions?”

Alex only nodded, “What were you doing today with the RV?”

Alex speaks softly, voice cracking, “Just driving.”

You sigh, “Yeah, I like drives. Was today a special day to drive?” You did not like drives, you preferred not to. David had always been the driver between the two of you. 

Alex shakes his head no. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy. He had no idea what was going on, however, you quickly shoved that thought down, he was a suspect in the case of two missing little girls.

“Okay Alex, I’m going to step out for a minute to give you a break, I know this is all different and scary. Let me know if you need anything.” With that, you left the room. You turned towards the interrogation viewing room door where you knew Loki already was watching your questioning.

As soon as you step foot in the room, Loki snaps at you, “What was that? You were too soft, we won’t get anywhere with that.”

You scoff. David was good at his job but he had a habit of going too far, “No, I wasn’t. You scaring him speechless isn’t going to get us anywhere either. Let me do my job the way I need to and I’ll let you do yours.”

Loki knew you were right so instead of protesting, he went to go talk to the forensics team, leaving you alone in the room with your thoughts. This case was going to be bad for the both of you, you already knew that. You needed to keep your head on straight and keep composure, if you didn’t, this case was going to consume and eat you alive. It was bound to happen, your good luck as partners was going to run out one day and you hoped this case wasn’t it. 

You walk back to your desk in hopes to find David when you look outside to see it’s still raining. Stupid fucking rain. 

Taglist: @lexie-wayland  @whew-oh-em-gee​ @winterlavenderskysworld​ @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee 

[raendown]

I return from the dead with a fic that isn't even for the Naruto fandom and I don't really have an explanation for myself.

Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2317 Fandom: MCU Summary: Visiting Steve was always strange now that the guy was old and retired. Still, of all the things Sam expected out of today, witnessing a prime example of gay panic from the co-worker that's been mysteriously avoiding him was not one of them.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info under the header!

Honestly, the fact that Steve's house smelled like prunes was probably one of the funniest things that Sam had ever heard in his life. More than anything he would have loved to go back in time, to the days of reading about glorified heroes in history textbooks, and tell his fifteen year old self that Captain America, Steve Rogers, retired in a house that smelled like prunes. God, his best friend just had to throw himself in to being old the way he threw himself in to everything else.

"Is there a special reason for you visiting?" Steve's voice was more tremulous these days, less steady but no less warm. Just hearing him again after the shameful amount of weeks it had been since his last visit made Sam grin.

"Nah, just thought I'd pop in and see if you'd expired yet. Your birthday's coming up. Gonna be, what, three hundred? A thousand?"

Steve narrowed his eyes but there was fondness in them so it wasn't very scary even if he could probably still tackle Sam across the room if he wanted to. At this point it would hurt him too but he could do it. "You, young man, are-"

He looked chagrined at himself when Sam cut him off with a laugh.

"You shitting me? Did you really just call me young man? See if I ever let you live that down."

His friend grumbled but accepted the teasing as his due. That was just what he got for going back in time and doubling down on being so much older than his own best friends.

Since it had indeed been a little too long after they last saw each other there was quite a bit of catching up for them to do. Over cool glasses of sweet tea and a plate of cookies the two of them spent a pleasant couple of hours shooting the shit until Sam could almost forget the years that stretched between them now. It was jarring, sometimes, looking away from those clear blue eyes to realize all over again just how many wrinkles they were set in. Sometimes he hated it. Other times he could only smile to know that at least one of their ragtag bunch had found the peace they were looking for.

Eventually all that sweet tea went right to his bladder and Sam excused himself to use the bathroom. When he returned he took in the sight of his friend all snug under one of the blankets his late wife had knit and sighed, feeling maudlin suddenly for no good reason.

"I should probably get out of your hair," he said. "Let you get in your afternoon nap or whatever. No, stay there man, I'll clean up." His smile was easy as he snagged the dishes from their grazing and hauled it all over to the kitchen.

"You sure?" Steve's voice floated after him. "Nothing else you want to get off your chest?"

"Huh?"

Sam frowned at the cups he'd just placed in the sink, running back through his mind. They'd talked about pretty much everything he could think of.

"You didn't mention Buck once, you know. I thought the two of you were friends now."

"Ah. Yeah. So did I." The corners of his mouth twisted with a little bitterness, a little confusion. After everything they'd been through and the number of times Bucky had accepted his invitations down to Delacroix he'd thought they were well past the point of calling themselves friends. Maybe he himself felt something a little more than that but he knew better than to push.

That was probably why Bucky's sudden radio silence hurt so much though.

"Trouble in paradise?" Steve called from the other room and Sam snorted.

“Shit, I don’t know. One minute we’re fine and the next he just up and disappears on me again. I may or may not have checked a bunch of obituaries for your name just in case because I have no idea what I might have done to piss him off.” Sam pursed his lips. He’s already gone over all this with Sarah a half dozen times and in all the recounts he’d done of their last couple missions he still couldn’t find any particularly bad moment between him and his best friend. Unfortunately the sweet tea he was glaring at didn’t have any answers either so he snatched the pitcher up and moved to put it in the fridge.

“Have you tried, oh I don’t know, asking him what’s wrong?”

“You think I didn’t try that?”

Steve’s hum drifted down the hallway with a distinct note of sass. “Neither one of you is very famous for your communication.”

“Excuse you, I was a counselor. A certified veteran’s counselor. Communicating with people was literally my job until your overly buff ass came running around all ‘on your left’ and ‘everyone I know is trying to kill me’.” Sam huffed as he snapped the fridge closed. “I damn well tried to talk to him but he’s not answering my texts or my calls. Short of breaking in to his apartment I don’t really know what else you want me to do.”

Without any other excuses to keep him in the kitchen Sam heaved a sigh, knowing he couldn’t dawdle any longer. He could only get to the door by going though the living room so his choices were either run away out the back, which he would never ever hear the end of, or go back in to the living room and face Steve with his stupidly wise and knowing eyes. Seriously, let a guy live to almost two hundred and suddenly he thought he knew everything. Annoying was what it was.

He was only halfway down the hall when he heard the front door open. Sam very carefully swallowed down the jibe he’d just been about to deliver and hoped that meant what he thought it meant. Maybe Steve had finally gone vague after all and bailed in the middle of their conversation; he’d rather chase a crazy old coot down the street than talk about his feelings regarding one James Buchanan Barnes. Actually if he looked at it from the right angle then chasing an old coot down the street was pretty much his job description whenever he and his partner teamed up on missions. Sam was just glad they hadn’t been called in to one since this whole silent treatment had started because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know whether or not Bucky would still have his back even when the guy was mad at him over reasons unknown.

Two more steps and Sam froze in his tracks, eyes wide with disbelief. Bucky’s shoulders were hunched in to himself with something bridling on panic as he fit himself through the front door and kicked it shut behind himself, eyes wild and fixed on the ground between his feet, nervous energy pouring out of him in a way Sam hadn’t seen before. From his spot on the couch Steve watched his childhood friend let himself in with serene indifference.

“Didn’t know you’d be over today,” was all he said. Then he smiled benignly when Bucky let out a soft whine.

“Help,” Bucky pleaded. “I’m dying.”

Then Bucky slid down to his knees and face planted in the carpet, arms and legs splaying out wide. Steve hummed.

“You know,” he murmured, “no one ever believes me when I tell them you’re this dramatic.”

“Steve! I’m having a crisis!”

“I tell everyone you’re a drama queen and they just shake their heads at me.”

“This is important! You have to kill me, Steve. Or I’m gonna just- just-!” Bucky’s voice petered out with another extended whine muffled by the carpet that probably didn’t smell any better from that close up.

Crossing one leg over the other, Steve folded his hands in his lap with a great lack of concern for the ridiculous scene playing out before him. Sam remained frozen in the hallway, wondering if Bucky even realized he was there, but he got an answer to that almost faster than if he’d bothered to ask himself.

“What’s wrong, pal?”

“It’s Sam!” Bucky cried. His arms lifted up like wings to flail briefly before falling back to the floor in a boneless sprawl. “Please just crush my head or something. I can’t take this.”

“Ah, yes, I hear you’ve been avoiding him.”

Whatever kind of noise Bucky was trying to make, it came out sounding more like he was choking on carpet fumes. “Of course I’m avoiding him!”

“Now why on earth would you do that?”

“I want to stick my tongue in the gap between his teeth!” Bucky said, entirely unaware of the sparks that were suddenly running up Sam’s spine in the hallway. “Help me, Steve! I want to press my thumb in the little dimple on his back. He has a dimple on his back! Why!? Steve I want to hold his hand! What the fuck!”

Steve had both eyebrows up near his hairline and the most shit eating grin any human on the planet had ever worn when he turned his head to look at Sam. Frozen with his eyes on the figure currently panicking in to the floor, Sam paid him no attention. He was busy processing. After getting to know Bucky, inviting him to stay in Delacroix time and time again, the dramatics weren’t actually that much of a surprise. Obviously as they grew closer he’d gotten a number of glimpses in to who the real Bucky Barnes was under the grouchy veneer he presented to the world. Watching him starfish on the ground and whine wasn’t too far from what he’d already seen.

Hearing him say anything about his tongue in conjecture with Sam’s teeth, on the other hand, now that was a bit unexpected. More than a bit.

“I think Shuri called this ‘gay panic’ and honestly I’m in agreement,” Bucky went on mindlessly. “If I have to watch him go through one more workout and not grab his ass with both hands then I’m just going to rip both of them off. Who needs hands if I cannot grab Sam Wilson’s ass with them!?”

“You may be slightly exaggerating the situation, I feel,” Steve told him.

Bucky snorted. “I am not. I absolutely am not. Why is he so hot? And nice? I hate that. Except I don’t. Steve why is he so nice to me?”

“That might be a question you should ask him.”

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ve got lots of questions for him! Hey Sam, why are you nice to me? Hey Sam, can I lick your cheekbones? Hey Sam, how big is your cock?”

“Well. Not that I’ve ever thought to ask that myself but, alright. Go on, Sam, how big is it?”

Sam had just enough time to cross his arms over his chest and assume a very casual pose leaning against the wall beside him before Bucky’s head shot up off the carpet. If possible, his eyes were even more wild than before when he fixed them on Steve, full of the deepest betrayal. Then he very slowly dragged them sideways to see the man he’d just been panicking over. Sam gave him a very friendly smile.

“Depends on your frame of reference,” he admitted. “I’d say sizeable.”

“Nnnggggg.”

“Hi Buck.”

“Ggnnn.”

While Steve very poorly disguised a laugh behind one hand, Sam pushed off from the wall and sauntered further in to the living room. Bucky slammed his face back in to the carpet.

“Leave me here to die,” he pleaded in a very small voice. Sam tutted, reaching for the front door, only looking over his shoulder once he was halfway through it.

“Come on, Buck, can’t lick my cheekbones if you don’t get off the floor. It was a nice visit, Steve, but don’t be looking out your front curtains for a bit. I think I’ll let Bucky decide for himself what sizeable means.” He thanked god for the mercy of Steve’s house being situated out here so far from any other homes, surrounded on all sides by enough trees that you couldn’t see it from the road. A gorgeous little island of privacy. Sam was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one grateful for this, judging by the mad scrambling noises he could hear going on behind him.

Bucky’s voice garbled out something that sounded like ‘fuck you, thank you, bye forever’ and then Sam was listening to the slam of the front door barely a second before strong hands were wrapping themselves around his hips. He laughed even as Bucky’s face came in to view.

“Greatest assassin of several generations and you didn't notice my truck in the driveway?” he said.

“I may have been a bit distracted.” That was definitely a pout on Bucky’s lips.

“By being so hot for all of this”-Sam gestured vaguely down his own body-“that you literally ceased being able to function.”

He didn’t expect such easy agreement as the sheepish nod that followed his words. “Pretty much.”

Sam blinked slowly once, twice. For one long moment he considered teasing the man. Then he decided that their time was much better spent doing things they’d both obviously been wanting to do while assuming they would never get the chance.

“I was promised a tongue in my teeth. Are you gonna get to that any time soon or am I gonna sit here and pine some more for something I apparently could have had all along?”

Bucky keened piteously. Then he surged forward to follow through on his own promises and Sam really hoped that Steve had taken his words to heart about the curtains. The man was way too old to be seeing all the ways they were about to defile the side of this truck.