#// bitch wasn't ready for this but she's gonna free her friends and run this bitch and take orders from kiddos

[the-winter-spider]

I Love You, I'm Sorry

Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 25k+

Warnings: Angst, fluff, sweater, small bit if barley anything smut

A/N: LMAOOO this is so unnecessarily long, I hope you like it! I definitely started to edit this and then just half assed did it and let this edit thing i have take over so hopefully it turned out okay because i was going cross eyed lol

I Miss You, I'm Sorry

-----

It had been almost two years since you’d last seen Bucky.

Two summers of carefully constructed avoidance. Two years of dodging mutual gatherings, leaning on Natasha and Wanda to run interference, and filling your days with work, hobbies, and everything else you could think of to keep yourself from looking back.

For the most part, it worked.

You had finally started to feel… free. Or something close to it. Your friends told you how proud they were, how much you were thriving, and sometimes, you almost believed them. You’d moved forward. You’d learned how to smile and laugh without his shadow hanging over you.

But there were cracks in your façade, ones no one else could see.

At night, when the world was quiet and there was nothing to distract you, your mind always drifted back to him. To the way his voice sounded when he said your name, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. The way his arms would feel around you, the way his lips would peck your skin and the way his words would soothe you. Till they didn’t but even then it was Bucky. He’d been your person—or at least, you thought he had been.

The right person, wrong time. You held onto that idea like a lifeline, the tiny hope that maybe someday, when you were both different, both ready, it could work. You hated yourself for holding onto the hope of it all, especially with how he treated you. But hope was a fickle bitch.

But that didn’t stop you from trying to move on. You tried, over and over again. New faces, new kisses, new hands brushing against yours. And yet every time, your mind would betray you, comparing each new guy to Bucky.

They didn’t laugh like he did.

They didn’t understand you like he did.

They didn’t know you like he did.

They didn’t make you feel like he did.

You hated yourself for it. For clinging to something that had already broken you one too many times. For hoping for something that wasn’t yours anymore, something that truly never even was.

But you always brushed it aside.

When Maria invited you to her engagement party, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. She was your friend, after all, and Natasha had promised she’d come too. It wasn’t until the day of the party, when Natasha called to say she couldn’t make it—“I’ve caught some kind of flu. Don’t worry, you’re gonna be fine, its not like Bucky will be there” That made your stomach churn, because of course Bucky wouldn't be there, why would he, he wasn't friends with Maria, but the fact Natasha even said his name in itself made your anxiety spike. And Steve knew Maria but he wouldn't bring him when he knew you were going.

You reminded yourself that Natasha wouldn’t steer you wrong. “He doesn’t even know these people,” “Steve wouldn’t do that to you” she had said, her voice reassuring. “You’ll be fine.”

So you put on a dress you hadn’t worn in ages, did your makeup, and told yourself you could handle this. It had been two years. You were fine. He won’t be there.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived. The apartment was beautiful, a spacious loft with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the New York City skyline. You mingled easily, sipping champagne and chatting with Maria and her fiancé, Chad, who were positively glowing with excitement.

An hour in, you’d almost forgotten your anxiety.

Almost.

“Wow, you look amazing,” a familiar voice said, and you turned to see Steve standing beside you, his kind smile softening the sharp cut of his suit.

“Hey, Steve,” you said, your voice steady as you returned his smile. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckled, glancing around before leaning in slightly. “Listen,” he said, his tone dropping to something quieter. “I need to tell you something.”

Your stomach twisted at the seriousness in his voice. “What?”

He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to gauge how you’d react. “Bucky’s here.”

The world seemed to tilt for a second. “What?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. Your hand started to shake, making your champagne spill over.

Steve reached out wrapping his hand around yours, trying to ground you. “He works with Chad,” Steve explained, wincing slightly. “I guess Chad got hired at Bucky’s company, and Buck invited him out to show him around New York. ”

Your mind reeled, piecing it together like a puzzle you didn’t want to solve. Of course.

Steve touched your arm gently, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Are you going to be okay?”

“It’s been two years,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as him. “I’ll be fine.”

Steve nodded, but the way his eyes lingered on you made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced. “I’m sorry, I know what he put you through.”

You grabbed his arm before he could walk away, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Is he, um here with anyone?”

Steve hesitated, then shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “He hasn’t really dated in the last couple of years.”

Your heart clenched, but you forced yourself to nod. “Okay.” It wasn’t a huge party by any means but there were enough people crowded in the small house that there was no way he’d be anywhere near you, right?

But then you heard it. It was like all your senses finally turned into your surroundings. The laugh, his laugh. And you started to spiral thinking of the smile and the head toss that went along with it.

You tried to focus on the party, but your nerves buzzed under your skin, your gaze flickering to every corner of the room, your eyes searching for him involentarly.

And then, finally, you saw him.

He was standing by the bar, laughing at something Chad said, a drink in his hand. He looked different—his hair shorter, his beard neatly trimmed—but he was still him. It was still Bucky. His nose still scrunched when he laughed.

And then his eyes locked with yours from across the room.

Everything stopped.

The noise of the party faded, just the thumping of your heart beat was heard, the world narrowing to just the two of you. It was like something out of a movie, and that terrified you because this wasn’t a movie. This was your life, and he’d already broken your heart one too many times.

You couldn’t do it again. You wouldn't.

You made up your mind quickly. You weren’t going to wait around for him to come over, to say something that would unravel everything you’d worked so hard to rebuild. You were panicking.

You found Maria, congratulating her again and leaving your engagement gift with a polite smile. “Natasha sends her congratulations,” you added. “She’ll be at the next party, I promise.”

You headed for the door, your chest tight, your mind racing.

The cool night air bites at your skin as you step out of the building, your heels clicking against the pavement. The distant hum of the city feels a world away from the chaos swirling inside you. You just need to get away—away from the noise, the memories, and him.

But then you hear it.

Footsteps behind you.

And then, his voice.

“Wait!”

Your body stiffens, your heart slamming against your ribs. You don’t turn around. You can’t. Not yet.

“Please,” Bucky says again, his voice closer now, raw and pleading. “Can we talk?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, before finally turning to face him. He stops a few feet away, his chest rising and falling heavily like he ran to catch up with you.

“Bucky,” you say, your voice sharp as his name leaves your lips for the first time in years, cutting through the silence. “What is there to talk about? There’s nothing I want to hear from you, and there’s nothing I want to say to you.”

He flinches like your words are a physical blow, but he doesn’t back down. His blue eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you say anything.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, his hands trembling at his sides. “Please,” he whispers, the word barely audible.

The weight of his gaze makes it impossible to move, to breathe. You hate how much power he still holds over you, how much his broken voice and watering eyes make your chest ache.

So you linger. You linger in the stillness, saying nothing.

And that’s when he begins to speak.

“I love you.” he says simply, his voice raw and unsteady.

“No.” The word slips from your lips, fast, sharp and broken. “You don’t know what love is.” Your chest heaves as the anger bubbles up, tears pricking at your eyes. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have been with all those other girls. You wouldn’t have let me think, so stupidly, that I was the only one who had that part of you.”

His face twists, the words hitting him like a physical blow. “You were,” he says, his voice cracking as he takes a step closer. “I wasn’t with any of them when I was with you.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “That is such bullshit, Bucky! I saw you. Multiple times, I might add! I know damn well you saw me too, out with different girls every other week like it was nothing—like I was nothing.”

His jaw tightens, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he takes another step closer. “No. I wasn’t with them,” he says, his voice desperate now. “I wasn’t sleeping with anybody else when I was seeing you. And for the record, you were never nothing to me. You were—you are everything.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask, your voice sharp and trembling. You laugh again, a hollow, cutting sound. “Because ‘for the record,’ we were never seeing each other, Bucky. You made damn sure of that.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You know what I mean,” he says, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “And I truly wasn’t sleeping with anybody else but you. Because I couldn’t.”

The words hang between you, heavy and raw, and your chest tightens as your breath catches in your throat.

“You couldn’t?” you ask, your voice trembling with disbelief. “Why? Because you were saving me from something? Because you didn’t want to hurt me?”

“No,” he says quickly, stepping closer. His hands are trembling as he lifts them slightly, like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t dare. “Because I didn’t want to. I didn’t want anyone else. I still don’t. Not like that. Not the way I want you.”

The admission feels like a knife twisting in your chest, and you take a shaky step back, shaking your head.

“And what? It took you completely ruining me to figure that out?” your voice cracks, your emotions spilling out like a flood. “Why couldn’t you have figured that out two years ago, Bucky? You hurt me so badly.” Your voice cracked.

His shoulders slump, and the defeat in his posture almost makes you falter. “I know,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I did. And I’ll hate myself for it for the rest of my life.”

Your throat tightens, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Then why? Why didn’t you just let me in? You made me feel like I was nothing, like I didn’t matter, when all I ever did was try to love you!”

His eyes snap to yours, the intensity in his gaze making your heart lurch. “Because I didn’t think I could love you back the way you deserved,” he says, his voice cracking. “I thought if I let you in, I’d ruin you. I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was make it worse. Because, God, do I love you more than anything.”

Your chest heaves with the weight of his words, and you wrap your arms around yourself as if it could stop the ache spreading through you. “You didn’t just make it worse, Bucky,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You broke me.”

He steps closer, his hand reaching out like he wants to touch you but stops just short. “And I’m trying to fix it,” he says softly. “I know I can’t take it back, but I’ll spend the rest of my time trying to make it right if you let me.”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh slipping past your lips. “You think it’s that easy? That you can just say all the right things now and I’ll forget about the years I spent breaking myself over you?”

“No,” he says quickly, his voice firm. “I don’t think it’s easy. I don’t expect you to forget. I just… I want a chance. A real one. To show you that I can be better. That I am better. I'll do anything.”

The silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating, broken only by the sound of your shaky breathing.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you admit, your voice barely audible.

“I’ll earn it,” he says softly. “Every single day, I’ll earn it. Please, I love you.”

Your heart aches as you stare at him, the war between your love for him and your fear of being hurt again raging inside you, “I'm sorry” you say softly with one last glance at him you turn around and leave.

---

The morning after the confrontation with Bucky, you find yourself sitting at a coffee shop with Wanda, Sam, and Natasha, it isn't unusual, the four of you have at least one day a week to catch up on life events, something that Natasha implemented years ago, nothing changed minus Steve wasn’t always here and Bucky no longer came for obvious reason. The usual lighthearted banter feels like it belongs to another world, one you’re struggling to reach. Your fingers wrap around the steaming cup in front of you, the warmth doing little to thaw the chill in your chest.

Two years. That’s how long you managed to avoid him and seeing him for two minutes was enough to break down all the walls you worked hard to build.

Two years of carefully declining invitations where you knew Bucky would be, of sharing group messages where his name lingered in the background like a ghost. Two years of never asking Natasha or Wanda about him and dodging Steve’s carefully neutral mentions of “Buck.”

And now, here you are, breaking the unspoken rule you set for yourself.

You sit at the café table with your untouched coffee cooling between your hands. The three of them are laughing about something—some story Sam’s telling about Steve being too stubborn to ask for directions—but the sound feels distant.

When the words finally tumble out of you, they cut through the conversation like a blade.

“I ran into Bucky last night.”

The laughter stops.

Natasha freezes, her coffee cup paused halfway to her lips, her sharp green eyes snapping to yours. Wanda’s brows knit together in quiet concern, her hand resting on her mug as if she’s bracing herself. Sam, seated across from you, leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. His expression hardens instantly, his jaw ticking.

You feel terrible the moment his name leaves your mouth. Horrible. Stupid. Guilty. It feels wrong bringing him up to them, like tearing open an old wound you’d all worked so hard to ignore. They knew everything—every tear you shed, every question you asked when you couldn’t figure out why things fell apart. They were there for every breakdown, every “why am i not enough?” They bore witness to the wreckage, the raw, ugly truth of what Bucky had done to you.

And now, here you were, dragging his name into the one space he hadn’t tainted.

You knew they still saw him. They had to. Bucky was part of the group, no matter how much you wished he wasn’t. But they did a damn good job keeping you out of it. For two years, they’d honored the unspoken rule: No Bucky around you. No you around Bucky. It was messy, but it worked. Sam even went nearly a year without seeing him, a Herculean effort considering how tight Bucky and Steve were, and how close Sam and Steve had gotten.

You’d never forget the night Sam nearly lost it—when he almost went after Bucky, fists clenched, ready to beat some sense into him or shit out of him. Sam had always been protective of you, but that night, his anger burned hotter than yours. It wasn’t until that moment—seeing Sam about to cross a line he couldn’t uncross—that you realized what you’d become, how much of your pain was spilling onto the people who loved you.

The group dynamic had never been the same after you and Bucky started… whatever that was.

It had been perfect before. Bucky and Steve had been inseparable since they were kids. You and Sam were childhood best friends until his family moved away, forcing you to find new ones. You met Wanda not long after, then Natasha a few years later, and things clicked. Natasha introduced you to Steve, who introduced you to Bucky. When Sam came back into your life during college, it felt like fate—like all the pieces of the puzzle had finally snapped into place.

But you and Bucky had thrown everything off balance.

When it was good, the group had learned to tiptoe around it, even accept it. But when it was bad—when it was tears and shouting and silence—they all felt the ripple effects. And sides were taken.m, drawing a jagged line between the group.

And now here you were, breaking the unspoken truce.

For a moment, no one says anything. The silence is thick and suffocating, pressing down on your chest like a hand. You can feel Natasha’s stare, sharp and assessing, and Wanda’s soft, silent empathy. But it’s Sam who breaks the tension, like always, his voice clipped and tight.

“What do you mean you ran into him?”

You glance down at your coffee, your fingers tightening around the mug to steady yourself. The words sit heavy on your tongue, reluctant to leave. “He was at Maria’s engagement party,” you say quietly, your voice barely cutting through the tense silence. “I didn’t know he’d be there, he wasn’t supposed to be.”

“Steve,” Natasha mutters under her breath, setting her cup down with a sharp clink that makes you flinch. Her green eyes narrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Of course he invited him.”

“No, he didn’t,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “Chad works with Bucky.”

“Who the hell is Chad?” Sam asks, his voice dripping with skepticism as he leans back in his chair.

“Maria’s fiancé,” Natasha replies, her tone clipped, like it’s obvious. She barely spares him a glance, her fingers drumming against the table.

“And who’s Maria?” Sam fires back, his brow furrowing as his annoyance builds.

“Oh my god, Sam, it doesn’t matter!” Natasha snaps, rolling her eyes with exasperation.

Wanda lets out a quiet sigh, leaning forward slightly, her gentle presence cutting through the rising tension. “Are you okay?” she asks softly, her voice calm but steady. Her dark eyes search yours, filled with concern. “What happened?”

You swallow hard, your throat dry as your gaze drops to the coffee again. “We… talked,” you admit, your voice tight, like it hurts to say the words out loud.

“Talked?” Sam repeats, his tone sharper now, disbelief flickering across his face. He leans forward, crossing his arms on the table. “What the hell could you possibly have to talk about after two years?”

“Sam,” Wanda says gently, her hand reaching out to rest on his arm. There’s a warning in her tone, but her touch is grounding, calming.

Sam exhales sharply, glancing at Wanda before turning back to you, his jaw clenching. “I just don’t get it,” he mutters.

You stay quiet, the knot in your stomach tightening. The weight of their stares feels unbearable, like you’re under a microscope. The silence stretches between you, and for a brief moment, you wish you’d never said anything.

But he doesn’t back down, his gaze locked on you. “No, seriously. After what he put you through, after how long it’s taken you to get to this point—what could he possibly say that’s worth hearing?”

You flinch, the words hitting harder than you expect. “He said none of them meant anything,” you say quietly, not looking up. “The other women. He said they didn’t mean anything to him, that he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else while we were…” You trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

Natasha’s voice is like ice when she finally speaks. “While you were what?” she asks, her words razor-sharp. “While you were breaking yourself over him? While you were bending over backward to love someone who couldn’t love you back the way you deserved?”

You glance up at her, tears stinging your eyes. “He said he was scared. That he didn’t want to feel whole because then he’d have something to lose.”

“Do you hear yourself right now?” Sam let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Classic Barnes. Always finding a way to make his damage someone else’s problem.”

“Sam,” Wanda says again, but this time, her voice is quieter. She looks at you, her expression filled with the kind of sympathy that only makes the ache in your chest worse. “What did you say?”

“I told him he hurt me anyway,” you admit, your voice trembling. “That all his excuses didn’t matter because it doesn’t erase what he did.”

Natasha leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “Good.”

“Then what?” Sam presses, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to catch you in a lie. “Please tell me you walked away and didn’t give him anything else.”

You hesitate, your silence stretching too long, betraying you.

Natasha’s sharp green eyes lock on yours, narrowing slightly. Wanda tilts her head, her lips parting like she’s about to ask something, but Sam beats her to it, his voice cutting through the quiet tension.

“Oh, come on,” Sam says, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t tell me you let him get to you again.”

Your head snaps toward him, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “I didn’t let him get to me,” you snap, your tone sharper than you intended. “I didn’t say anything….”

The admission silences the table, but the tension only thickens. You can feel their stares boring into you, each one carrying a different weight—Sam’s frustration, Wanda’s concern, Natasha’s quiet scrutiny.

“But…” you start, your voice faltering.

“Always a but,” Sam groans, rubbing a hand down his face.

You look away, weary and defeated, the words catching in your throat before you finally manage to force them out. “He said he loves me.”

The words land like a grenade.

Sam’s jaw tightens, his eyes widening slightly before narrowing again in disbelief. Natasha’s lips press into a thin line, her fingers drumming against the table. Wanda’s brows knit together, the soft concern on her face twisting into something closer to pity.

No one speaks. The weight of the admission hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Finally, Natasha breaks the silence, her voice low and measured. “And what did you say to that?”

You exhale sharply, your gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of you. “Nothing,” you say quietly. “I didn’t say anything. I just… left.”

“Good,” Natasha says firmly, though her tone is softer now, less cutting. “That’s what you should’ve done.”

Wanda leans forward slightly, her eyes searching yours. “How do you feel about it, though?” she asks gently. “About him saying that?”

You shake your head, your hands clenching into fists in your lap. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I don’t know how I feel. Part of me wanted to believe him, but the other part…” You trail off, your throat tightening.

“The other part knows it’s bullshit,” Sam finishes for you, his voice hard. “He’s said crap like this before, hasn’t he? Made you feel like you’re the only person in the world, just to rip it all away the next second?”

“Sam,” Wanda says softly, placing a calming hand on his arm.

“No,” he says, shaking her off. “She needs to hear this. You can’t let him keep pulling you back in, Y/n. He’s only saying it because he knows you’re moving on, and he doesn’t want to lose that grip he has on you.”

“That’s not fair,” you say, your voice rising slightly as you turn to him. “You don’t know what he meant. You don’t know how he said it, he’s never said the word love to me before Sam…”

“Oh, I know exactly how he said it,” Sam fires back, his tone dripping with frustration. “Because it’s Bucky, and he’s been playing this game for years! Doesn’t matter, why the hell would he drop the L word after two years!”

“Enough,” Natasha cuts in, her tone icy and firm. Her eyes flick to Sam before landing on you, her gaze softening slightly. “What matters isn’t what he said. It’s how you feel about it. So stop deflecting and just be honest—what did it mean to you?”

You look down, your chest tightening as their words swirl around you. The truth is, you don’t know how to answer that question. Hearing him say those words—I love you—had shaken you to your core. It wasn’t what you expected, and it wasn’t what you wanted to hear, not like this. But that didn’t stop the part of you, buried deep down, that ached to believe him.

“I don’t know,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what it meant. All I know is… it hurt.”

Wanda leans back, exhaling softly as she folds her hands in her lap. “That’s valid,” she says gently. “It’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to not have an answer right now.”

“But it’s not okay to let him back in just because he said the right thing,” Natasha adds, her voice firm but not unkind. “Words are easy, Y/n. Actions are what matter.”

Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m coming off too harsh. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again. Not by him.”

You nod, your throat tightening as you look around the table. These were your people, the ones who’d seen you at your lowest and never walked away. They were only trying to protect you, but the weight of their concern felt suffocating.

“I get it,” you say quietly. “I do. And I’m not planning to just… run back to him. I’m not stupid.”

“No one’s saying you’re stupid,” Wanda says quickly, her voice soothing.

You glance at her, offering a small, tired smile. “It just… it threw me, okay? I wasn’t expecting him to say that, he wasn’t supposed to be there, that’s all.”

Natasha sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I swear, Steve and his damn loyalty to Bucky…”

“Don’t blame Steve,” Wanda says gently, glancing between you and Natasha. “This isn’t about him.” She turns to you, her voice soft. “This is about what you want. What you’re going to do next.”

You shake your head, your chest tightening. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam exhales sharply, his frustration simmering just below the surface. “You want my advice?” he says, his tone blunt. “Do nothing. Block his number, delete his name, and move the hell on. Because if you don’t, he’s going to drag you right back into the same cycle.”

Wanda gives him a look but doesn’t contradict him. Natasha remains silent, her jaw tight as she studies you.

“Whatever you decide,” Natasha says finally, her voice steady but laced with warning, “just remember what it took to get to this point. Two years, no Bucky, and you’ve been good. Don’t throw it all away unless you’re damn sure he’s worth it.”

The words linger in the air long after they leave her mouth, sinking into your chest like stones.

You nod slowly, even though your thoughts are a chaotic mess. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I’ll think about it.”

But as you leave the café later, the cool breeze brushing against your skin, you can’t help but feel like it’s not really a choice at all. Not when his words are still echoing in your mind.

“I’ll earn it. Every single day, I’ll earn it.”

It’s late when you get home, the city quiet outside your window. You drop your bag on the counter and collapse onto the couch, the weight of the day pressing down on you like a physical force.

Bucky’s words won’t leave your mind.

“None of them meant anything.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I love you.”

You lean back, closing your eyes, but the memories come flooding in: Bucky with his easy charm, the way he used to pull you in so effortlessly, the way he made you feel like the only person in the world—until he didn’t.

You grab your phone off the coffee table and open your messages. His name is still there, right at the top from the missed calls and texts you haven’t answered.

There’s another message waiting for you now.

“I meant what I said. Please just let me explain.”

Your finger hovers over the notification, your heart pounding. You could call him back right now. Hear his voice, let him pull you back in like he always does.

But then Sam’s voice cuts through the fog in your head. “Block his number, delete his name, and move the hell on.”

You toss the phone onto the couch beside you, burying your face in your hands. You hate how torn you feel, how deeply he’s gotten under your skin even after all this time.

Your thoughts race, bouncing between your friends’ words and the way Bucky looked at you last night—like he was sorry, like he was breaking apart in front of you.

He’s always sorry after the fact, you think bitterly. But what about before?

You stand abruptly, pacing the small space of your living room as if movement will make the war in your head easier to handle.

On one hand, you’ve spent two years rebuilding yourself, proving you can live without him, even if it hurt like hell. On the other hand, the love you had for him—the love you still feel, no matter how hard you try to bury it—won’t let you forget how much you wanted him to choose you.

Your phone buzzes again. You don’t need to look at it to know it’s him.

You let it buzz this time, the sound grating against the quiet. You walk to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of water, and try to focus on the simple task of breathing.

But the questions won’t stop coming.

What if he’s really changed?

What if he means it this time?

What if I say no, and this time, it really could’ve been different?

Your eyes fall to the notes app on your phone, and before you can stop yourself, you open it. The unsent letter you wrote months ago still stares back at you, every word a wound you thought had healed.

“I love you, I’m sorry.”

“I hate what loving you does to me.”

“I wish I could stop waiting for you.”

You stare at the words for what feels like forever, your chest tightening. This is the part of him you know, the part of you he’s left behind time and time again.

But then you hear his voice in your head again, softer this time. “I didn’t want anyone else. Not like that. Not the way I wanted you.”

You slam your phone down on the counter, frustration bubbling up in your chest. It feels impossible—choosing between the life you’ve built without him and the possibility of something better with him.

Finally, you grab your coat and head for the door. The walls of your apartment feel too small, and you need space to think.

As you step outside into the cool night air, you glance at the lit-up city skyline and whisper to yourself, “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

---

The next day, you text Bucky. Just one line, short and to the point: “We need to talk. Can you meet me at the park in 20?”

Your phone buzzes almost immediately with his reply: “I’ll be there.”

You don’t let yourself think too hard about it—what you’ll say, how you’ll say it, or what it will mean. If you overthink, you know you’ll spiral. Instead, you grab your coat, slipping it on as you head out the door.

By the time you arrive at the park, the cold air has crept into your fingertips, and you shove your hands deep into your pockets. The bench you choose is damp from the morning dew, but you sit anyway, bracing yourself against the bite of the cool metal.

You focus on the world around you to keep your thoughts from drowning you. The faint rustling of leaves. The distant sound of children laughing. The hum of traffic just beyond the trees. It all blends into a calming rhythm, but your hands still won’t stop shaking.

When Bucky finally shows up, you feel him before you see him.

That familiar leather jacket, the way his hands are stuffed into his pockets as he walks toward you with hesitant steps. He stops a few feet away, lingering like he’s waiting for you to say something, to invite him closer.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice careful, measured.

You nod, gesturing for him to sit. He does, keeping a respectful distance between you, but it feels like miles.You hate that you have a need, a want to have him close.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The quiet feels fragile, as if one wrong word could send the whole thing crumbling. Finally, you take a deep breath, the cool air stinging your lungs as you turn to face him.

“I can’t do this, Bucky,” you say, your voice calm despite the storm swirling inside you. “Whatever this is between us, it doesn’t work. It never did.”

He blinks, the words visibly hitting him, but he doesn’t react right away. His brows furrow, and he shifts to face you fully, his expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. “That’s not fair,” he says, his voice low. “You can’t say it never worked. There were good moments—”

“There were,” you interrupt, your voice sharper now as you meet his gaze head-on. “But they weren’t enough. And you know it.”

He exhales sharply, leaning back on the bench. His hands rub over his thighs as if trying to ground himself. “So, what? That’s it? You’re done?”

You shake your head, the weight of it all pressing on your chest. “No, I’m not done,” you say softly. “But things need to change.”

He watches you, his expression guarded but waiting.

“I realized something last night,” you continue, your voice trembling but steady. “You and I? We were never really friends, Bucky. We jumped into… whatever that was—passion, chaos, love, I don’t even know. But we didn’t build a foundation. And I think that’s why it was so easy for you to hurt me. Because you didn’t really see me. Not like a friend does, not like a friend should.”

His jaw tightens, and his brows knit together as he looks at you, struggling to process your words. “What are you talking about?” he asks finally, his voice quiet but laced with disbelief. “We were always friends. You were always my friend.”

You let out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “No, Bucky, we weren’t. Friends don’t treat each other the way you did. They don’t take without giving back. They don’t leave when things get hard. We skipped right past being friends and dove headfirst into something that was doomed from the start.”

He flinches slightly at your words, his jaw clenching as he looks down at the ground. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with regret. “I never wanted to, please know that..”

“I believe you,” you say softly, your fingers tightening around the edge of your coat. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you did. And I let you, because I thought love was enough to fix everything. But it wasn’t.”

The silence that follows feels heavier than before, filled with things neither of you knows how to say.

His hands grip the edge of the bench like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded, and when he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse. “So, what do you want from me now? What do I need to do? Because I can’t go any longer without you in my life.”

You swallow hard, your voice trembling as you respond. “I want to try being friends. Real friends. No more mixed signals, no more blurred lines. Just you and me, figuring out if we even know how to be in each other’s lives without falling apart.”

He turns to you, his blue eyes searching yours for something—answers, reassurance, maybe even forgiveness. “You really think we can do that?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, the honesty cutting through you like glass. “But I think it’s the only way we have a shot at something real. If we don’t start over, this will just keep happening.”

He nods slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he exhales, his breath visible in the cold air. “Okay,” he says finally, his voice steady. “Friends.”

You raise a brow, watching him carefully. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” he says, more firmly this time. His gaze doesn’t waver. “If that’s what you need, I’ll do it. Friends.”

The corner of your mouth lifts into a small, hesitant smile. “Okay.”

----

The friendship started quietly, almost tentatively.

At first, you kept your distance, careful and wary. It was easier that way. Safer. You told yourself it wasn’t about punishing him, it was about self-preservation. You weren’t ready to let him back in not fully, not even halfway, not after the chaos he’d left behind.

So you kept things light, meeting only at group gatherings or for the occasional coffee when he reached out. You’d sit across from him, smiling politely while waiting for the cracks to show. You braced yourself for the moment he’d remind you why you were so afraid of letting him close again. You were skeptical to say the least.

You expected the old Bucky to resurface—the one who smiled too easily at strangers and let his charm mask the ways he didn’t show up when it mattered. But as the weeks turned into months, something unexpected happened:

Bucky kept showing up.

Every. Single. Time.

It started with the way he carried himself. Before, being with him felt like bracing for a storm, like you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’d been restless, distracted, always somewhere else in his mind. Now, though, he was steady. Grounded.

It was subtle—the way he lingered a little longer during conversations, the way his eyes didn’t dart around the room looking for an escape when things got serious. Instead of deflecting with a joke or brushing off questions about himself, he actually stayed. He listened.

You saw it in the small, quiet ways he started to show up for you.

“Your usual?” he asked one afternoon, sliding a coffee across the table toward you as you sat down.

You blinked, surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, his lips curving into a small smile. “You like the extra cinnamon, right?”

It wasn’t the coffee that caught you off guard—it was the way he said it, like it was something he’d filed away in his mind, something important to him.

“Thanks,” you said softly, wrapping your hands around the cup.

For a while, you just sat there, the silence stretching between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though—not the way it used to be. He didn’t fidget or rush to fill the quiet. He just was.

When you finally spoke, your voice was quieter than you expected. “You’ve been… different lately.”

He tilted his head, studying you with those piercing blue eyes. “Different how?”

You hesitated, unsure how to say it without sounding accusatory. “I don’t know. Calmer. Present.”

His smile faded slightly, his gaze dropping to his coffee. “I’ve been working on that,” he admitted.

It wasn’t a dramatic declaration, but it stayed with you long after the conversation ended.

The little things, those were what really starting to get to you.

It was the way he remembered details you’d barely mentioned, like your favorite bagel order, the book you’d been meaning to read, the way you liked your eggs in the morning.

You had casually mentioned how the café’s muffins looked good but were overpriced. You didn’t think much of it until the next time you met him, and he slid a muffin across the table without a word.

“What’s this?” you asked, raising a brow.

He shrugged, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Thought you deserved to try the overpriced muffin.”

You stared at him, unsure how to respond. Before, he’d been inattentive, distracted, always somewhere else in his mind. But now? Now he paid attention. To everything.

“Thank you Buck,” you said softly, the warmth in your chest catching you off guard.

His mouth slightly parted, his cheeks lightly blushed with hearing you call him Buck “It’s just a muffin,” he said lightly trying to act cool, taking a sip of his coffee. But the way he avoided your eyes told you it meant more than that.

Of course, you still waited for him to slip. It was hard not to. You’d been burned before, and trust wasn’t something you could rebuild overnight.

At group gatherings, you watched him from the corner of your eye, waiting for him to flirt with someone new, to slip back into his old, careless charm.

But he never did. Not yet anyway.

At Wanda’s birthday party, you saw a woman lean in too close, her hand brushing his arm. The pang of jealousy hit you instantly, sharp and familiar. You tried not to look, but your eyes betrayed you, darting toward him as the moment unfolded.

And then you saw it.

Bucky gently stepped back, shaking his head with a polite smile before walking away.

When he sat down beside you later, balancing a beer on his knee, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “You’re not interested?”

He raised a brow, his expression confused. “In what?”

“In her,” you said, nodding toward the woman. “She’s beautiful.”

He followed your gaze before turning back to you, his tone soft and matter-of-fact. “No.”

When you didn’t respond, he studied your face for a moment before adding, “That’s not what I’m here for. That’s not who I want.”

His words hung in the air, their weight pressing against your chest. You looked away, unsure how to respond, but the warmth spreading through you was undeniable.

It was in moments like these that you saw the difference in him, the way he wasn’t just trying to be better, he was. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was steady, patient, and consistent.

And slowly, so slowly you barely noticed it happening, he started to feel safe again. Like the way had once made you feel when you only had glimpses of him like this but now it was everywhere.

A few weeks later, you found yourself sitting on a park bench with Steve, waiting for Natasha to join the two of you. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the trees as you watched the shadows stretch across the grass.

“It’s nice to finally hang out with everyone again,” Steve said, his voice easy and warm. “To hang out with you again..”

You raised a brow, giving him a skeptical look. “You mean without the constant awkwardness of me avoiding Bucky?”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Something like that. But honestly, it’s been good. For all of us. Especially for him and I missed you, y’know?”

You hesitated, your chest tightening slightly. “What do you mean?”

Steve leaned back, resting his arms along the bench as he stared out at the park. “He’s more… himself. It’s like I’ve got my best friend back.”

His words caught you off guard. “Really?”

Steve nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah. He’s been putting in the work, you know? Seeing a therapist, digging through all the stuff he’s been carrying for years. I think he’s finally starting to let it go.”

The words stopped you in your tracks. “He’s seeing a therapist?”

“Has been for over a year,” Steve said with a small smile. “I think you’re part of the reason, honestly.”

You blinked, your stomach twisting. “Why would I be the reason?”

“Because losing you made him realize he had to change, that the emotional and self destructive path he was going down wasn’t a good idea ” Steve said simply. “And he talked about how he didn’t feel right months before you decided to keep him out of your life but he never changed anything but after Sam almost beat the shit out of him, and he realized you were actually done with him…he didn’t just say it—he did it.”

You looked down at the ground, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your coat. Bucky going to therapy? The man who once couldn’t even admit when he was wrong? It didn’t feel real.

“He’s really putting in the work?” you asked softly, still not quite able to believe it.

Steve nodded again. “It’s been good for him. Really good. He’s more present now, more grounded. It’s nice to see.”

You fell silent, your thoughts swirling as Steve’s words sank in. “For what it's worth, I missed you to Steve.”

--------

The friendship was delicate, like glass balanced on the edge of a table. Every step you took felt measured, calculated, careful not to tip it too far. Bucky was trying—you could see that. He was showing up, being present, doing all the things you’d always wanted him to do.

But trust wasn’t something that came back just because someone tried. And that was the problem.

It had been months of careful rebuilding, of letting him inch closer without letting him in entirely. You told yourself you were protecting yourself, guarding the parts of you he’d once broken. But the truth was, no matter how much progress you made, the cracks were still there, and some days it felt like they were growing.

It started small, the fights.

You were at his apartment, your first time back there in years. He’d invited you over for dinner, just you it was nothing fancy, just pasta and wine, and you’d agreed because things had been good lately.

Easy.

But something about being back in that space, sitting on the same couch where so much had gone wrong, made you uneasy. The walls seemed to hum with the echoes of old arguments, of broken promises and words you wished you could take back.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Bucky said, breaking the silence as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. He was watching you carefully, his brows furrowed in that way he always did when he was trying to figure you out.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, too quickly, your fingers toying with the edge of your wine glass.

He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You always say that when you’re not.”

“I said I’m fine, Bucky,” you snapped, sharper than you intended.

The tension in the room shifted immediately. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “Okay,” he said slowly. “But if something’s bothering you, you can tell me. That’s what this is about, right? Our friendship?”

You hated the way his words made your chest tighten, hated how calm and reasonable he sounded. You felt the crack inside you widen, your unease bubbling to the surface in a way you couldn’t control.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked suddenly, your voice trembling as you looked at him.

His brows knitted together in confusion. “Doing what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely around the room. “Cooking dinner, asking me how I feel, trying to—” You broke off, your throat tightening. “Why are you trying so hard?”

The frustration on his face was immediate, his calm demeanor finally breaking. “Because I want to, I told you I would..” he said, his voice rising slightly. “Because I’m trying to show you that I’m different, that I’m not going to screw this up again. Isn’t that what you want?”

“I don’t know!” The words came out louder than you intended, your hands trembling as you set the wine glass down. “I don’t know, Bucky. I don’t know what I want.”

He stared at you, his chest heaving as he tried to process your words. “I don’t understand,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “I thought we were doing okay. I thought this was working.”

“It is!” you said, the words tumbling out of you too fast. “It is, but… I don’t know. There’s this feeling, this—this gut feeling that something’s going to go wrong, and I can’t ignore it. I can’t pretend it’s not there.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration bleeding into every movement. “What am I doing wrong?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. “Tell me, because I don’t know. I’m trying so damn hard, and I don’t know how to fix this if I don’t even know what’s broken.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of the fridge and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

He looked at you, his expression somewhere between heartbroken and exhausted. “Then what is it?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your arms wrapping around yourself as if it could stop the ache spreading through your chest. “I don’t know what it is, Bucky. It’s just… there. This feeling that no matter how hard you try, I’m going to get hurt again, that you’re going to hurt me, that I'm going to see you with another girl…and I don’t think I could handle that again...”

His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, you thought he might give up entirely. But then he took a step closer, his voice trembling with frustration and something deeper, something raw.

“I don’t know what else I can do to prove to you that I’m not that guy anymore,” he said, his hands trembling at his sides. “I’ve spent the last two years trying to figure out how to be better, how to be the kind of person who deserves to have you in my life. And now you’re here, and I’m trying—I’m trying so damn hard—but it feels like nothing I do is enough.”

You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart breaking at the raw honesty in his voice.

“It’s not about you not being enough,” you said quietly, your voice shaking. “It’s about me not being ready to believe it.”

His face fell, his shoulders sagging under the weight of your words. “So, what am I supposed to do?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just wait? Keep showing up and hope one day you’ll believe me?”

You didn’t have an answer for him. You didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t his actions, but the scars he’d left behind that wouldn’t let you trust him completely.

“I don’t know,” you said softly, the words heavy with defeat.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at you like he was trying to memorize every detail of your face. Finally, he nodded, the movement slow and resigned.

“Okay,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’ll wait. I’ll keep showing up. But you have to meet me halfway, okay? Because I can’t keep fighting for something if you’re not even sure you want it and if you don’t that's okay too but please tell me.”

------

The restaurant was bustling when you arrived, laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. The table was already crowded with plates of appetizers and half-finished bottles of wine. Natasha spotted you first, waving you over with a bright smile.

“Finally,” she said as you slid into the chair beside Bucky. “We were starting to think you got lost.”

“Or bailed,” Sam added, smirking as he poured himself another glass of wine. “Not that I’d blame you, Steve’s been going on about his workout routine for the past ten minutes. We’re all suffering.”

Steve, seated across from Natasha, rolled his eyes. “I mentioned the gym once, Sam.”

Natasha smirked, resting her chin in her hand as she looked at Steve. “You do talk about it a lot, Rogers.”

“I don’t talk about it that much,” Steve said defensively, glancing around the table for support.

“You literally just told Chad last week that you PR’d on your deadlift,” Wanda chimed in, raising her glass of wine. “And then you made him guess how much it was.”

“That was relevant to the conversation!” Steve protested, his cheeks flushing.

“Oh my god,” Natasha groaned dramatically, leaning over to kiss Steve’s cheek. “It’s okay, I like your gym stories.”

“Gross,” Sam groaned loudly, tossing a piece of bread onto his plate. “Seriously, get a room.”

“Maybe we will,” Natasha shot back, smirking as she leaned closer to Steve.

“Guys, please,” Sam groaned again, turning to Wanda for backup. “Can’t you two keep your domestic bliss to yourselves for one dinner?”

“Oh, leave them alone,” Wanda said with a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re just mad because you can’t deadlift half as much as Steve.”

“Wow,” Sam said, feigning offense. “You know what, Wanda? You’ve officially lost your spot as my favorite.”

Wanda smirked. “I was never your favorite.”

“True,” Sam admitted. “But I was trying to be polite.”

“Who’s your favourite then?” Natasha asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Isn't it obvious?” Bucky’s voice cut through the conversation “It’s y/n, he almost beat the shit outta me for her.” He laughed

Sam raised his glass “And don’t you forget it!”

The group burst into laughter, and while you tried to join in, it felt hollow. The noise pressed in around you, too loud and overwhelming after the day you’d had.

Beside you, Bucky shifted slightly, leaning closer. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, not looking at him.

“Y/n…” he started, his voice gentle but concerned.

“Bucky, don’t,” you said quickly, your tone sharper than you intended. His jaw tightened, and though he didn’t push, you could feel his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he leaned back in his chair.

As the plates of food arrived, the jokes and banter only grew louder. Natasha and Wanda leaned over to share bites of each other’s pasta, while Sam and Steve got into a debate about which of them would survive longer in a zombie apocalypse.

“It’s me, obviously,” Sam said, gesturing with his fork. “I’ve got street smarts. Steve’s out here still trying to give people the benefit of the doubt, like, ‘Maybe the zombie just needs a hug.’”

“First of all, that’s not true,” Steve shot back, laughing. “And second, I’m stronger than you. I’d take them down before they even got close.”

“The gym thing again! And strength isn’t gonna save you when they’re sneaking up on you,” Sam countered. “You’d be too busy lecturing them about morality or something.”

Natasha snorted, twirling her pasta onto her fork. “He’s not wrong.”

Steve looked to her, feigning betrayal. “You’re siding with him?”

“Of course I am,” Natasha said, smirking. “Sam’s got a point. You’d probably try to negotiate with the zombies.”

“I’m starting to feel attacked,” Steve muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“Oh, poor baby,” Natasha teased, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek again. “We still love you.”

“Seriously, get a room,” Sam said again, throwing a napkin at them.

“Could we use yours? ” Natasha asked innocently, stealing a bite of Steve’s food.

“God, I hate you both,” Sam grumbled, but the grin on his face said otherwise.

Through it all, Bucky stayed quiet, occasionally chiming in with a comment or a chuckle, but his attention kept drifting back to you. Every so often, he’d glance your way, his brow furrowing slightly when he noticed the way you kept fidgeting with the edge of your napkin or how your smile never quite reached your eyes.

Midway through the meal, as the group debated whether to order dessert or move on to the bar, Bucky leaned in again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hey,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “I know a bad day when I see one. If you need to get out of here, just let me know. I’ll go with you.”

His words caught you off guard, and when you turned to look at him, his blue eyes were steady and calm, filled with an understanding that made your chest tighten.

For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. Finally, you nodded, your voice barely audible. “Thank you… and I’m, uh, sorry for snapping earlier.”

His lips twitched into a small smile as he shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize to me,” he said softly.

Beneath the table, his hand brushed yours, and before you could pull away, he wrapped his fingers gently around yours, his thumb moving in slow, comforting circles. The gesture was so quiet, so him, that it almost brought tears to your eyes.

Before either of you could say anything, Sam’s loud laugh broke the moment.

“To the bar!” Sam declared, raising his glass triumphantly.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna be on your ass after two drinks.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Romanoff,” Sam shot back with a grin.

When the group moved to leave for the bar, you declined, mumbling something about being tired. Bucky didn’t hesitate, standing up beside you. “I’ll walk you home,” he said simply.

No one questioned it. Natasha raised a brow but didn’t comment, and Steve gave you a knowing look before following the others out the door.

The night air was cool, the breeze brushing against your skin as you walked side by side. Bucky didn’t try to fill the silence, and for that, you were grateful. His presence was steady, grounding, and for the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe.

But as the quiet stretched on, the weight of the day caught up with you. Your breath hitched, your vision blurring as tears began to well in your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but the lump in your throat only grew.

The moment the first tear slipped down your cheek, you stopped abruptly, turning away from him as you furiously wiped at your face. “God, I’m sorry,” you muttered, your voice shaking. “I’m a mess.”

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, stepping closer. His voice was gentle but steady, the kind of tone that made it impossible not to feel like you could fall apart and still be safe.

You shook your head, your back still to him. “I hate this. I hate crying like this. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Not to me. Not for this.”

You felt the warmth of his hand on your shoulder, hesitant but grounding. That simple touch broke the last bit of resolve you had left. A shaky breath escaped you, and the tears came faster, slipping down your cheeks before you could stop them.

You didn’t turn around, but your voice cracked as you tried to explain, to justify your unraveling. “Work was a nightmare. My boss—he kept piling things on me, and then there was this meeting where nothing I said was taken seriously. And then—” Your voice hitched as you gestured helplessly. “And then the subway was late, and I was late, and I just—”

Your words dissolved into a sob as you clenched your fists, hating how small and exposed you felt.

“It’s okay,” Bucky said again, stepping closer. “Come here.”

This time, he didn’t wait for permission. He gently turned you toward him, his hands settling on your arms. You resisted for a moment, your pride warring with the need to let someone see you like this. But the warmth of his touch, the steadiness in his eyes, broke through your defenses.

Before you knew it, you were in his arms.

Bucky pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you with a care that made your chest ache. His hand moved slowly up and down your back, soothing in its consistency.

“You’re okay,” he murmured against your hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

The words hit something deep inside you, and the dam broke completely. You clung to him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket as sobs wracked your chest. It wasn’t just the stress of the day pouring out of you—it was everything. The years of pent-up frustration, the heartbreak, the lingering hurt that you’d buried so deep it had started to feel like a part of you.

“I’m so tired, Bucky,” you choked out, your voice muffled against his chest. “I feel like I’m failing at everything. I’m trying so hard, and it’s just—” Your words crumbled into another sob.

His arms tightened around you, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “You’re not failing,” he said softly, his voice steady and sure. “You’re doing more than anyone else sees, I know you are. You’re just carrying too much, and it’s okay to let some of it out.”

You pulled back slightly, wiping at your face, though the tears didn’t stop. “I hate crying,” you muttered, your voice thick with emotion. “It feels so stupid, like I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Stop that,” he said firmly, his hands moving to your shoulders. His thumbs brushed over the fabric of your coat, grounding you as he leaned down slightly to catch your eyes. “It’s not nothing, Y/n. You’ve been holding this in all day—hell, probably longer. You’re allowed to cry, and you’re allowed to feel like this. It doesn’t make you weak.”

The sincerity in his voice made you falter, your gaze dropping as your throat tightened all over again.

“I just… I don’t know how to make it stop,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “It feels like it never ends.”

Bucky’s hands shifted, one moving to brush a tear from your cheek while the other cupped your jaw, holding you steady. “It’s not always gonna feel like this,” he said quietly, his blue eyes searching yours. “I promise you. It won’t. Only up from here right?”

The softness in his voice, the quiet conviction, sent a shiver through you. The spark between you was undeniable, and for a moment, you felt the world slow. The sounds of the city faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in the quiet, intimate bubble of this moment.

It scared you.

You stepped back abruptly, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to create some distance. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, your voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bucky said firmly, shaking his head. He took a step back, giving you space but keeping his gaze steady on you. “You’re allowed to have bad days, Y/n. You’re allowed to fall apart and I’ll always be here to catch you.”

You nodded, wiping at your face again as you tried to steady your breathing. “Thank you,” you said softly.

By the time you reached your apartment, the tears had stopped, though your eyes were still puffy and your cheeks were flushed. Bucky walked beside you the entire way, his presence quiet but solid, like an anchor keeping you grounded.

When you reached your door, you hesitated, your hand resting on the handle as you glanced at him. “Do you… want to come in?”

His lips parted slightly, and for a moment, he looked like he might say yes. But then he smiled softly, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

“I want to,” he admitted, his voice low. “Believe me, I do. But…”

You looked down, your chest tightening. “There’s always a ‘but,’” you muttered bitterly.

“Sweetheart, it’s not like that,” he said quickly, his voice gentle as he stepped closer. “It’s just… we’re not there yet. You’re not there yet. And this time, it has to be right. I can’t—I won’t risk screwing this up again.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you felt tears threaten to rise again. But you swallowed them back, nodding as you looked down. “I understand. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, cutting you off. His hands reached out, brushing gently against your arms before pulling you into a soft, lingering hug. “It’s okay.”

When he pulled back, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead that lingered just long enough to make your breath catch.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he said softly, stepping back toward the stairs.

---

It was slow—not like before, when everything between you and Bucky had burned too hot and too fast. This time, the way things started to shift felt more like the gentle pull of a tide, subtle but impossible to ignore.

You told yourself it was still just friendship. That’s all it could be, all it should be. But the lines had begun to blur in quiet, unspoken ways.

It was late afternoon, the city basking in the golden light of an early summer evening. The streets were alive with the hum of conversation and the occasional laughter spilling out of cafes. Walking together had become something you did more often, something easy that didn’t require a plan or an excuse.

Today, the two of you strolled aimlessly, weaving through the crowd with no real destination in mind. The heat of the day had given way to a softer warmth, and the light breeze carried the faint scent of street food and blooming flowers.

You were mid-story, animatedly recounting a tale from your childhood, your hands gesturing as you spoke. “So there I was, stuck on top of the fence, and of course, he’s at the bottom laughing at me, not helping—”

You didn’t see the biker coming.

Out of nowhere, the sharp whirr of tires on pavement cut through the air, and a cyclist sped past, too close, the corner of his handlebar brushing the edge of your sleeve.

Before you could fully register what had happened, Bucky stepped in front of you, his arm instinctively reaching out. His hand brushed lightly against your arm as he guided you closer to the safety of the sidewalk.

“Careful,” he said, his voice low, steady, but protective in a way that made something tighten in your chest.

The world seemed to pause for a second. You stopped mid-sentence, the words caught in your throat as your eyes flicked up to meet his. He was close—closer than you’d realized—and the faint lines of worry etched on his face made your pulse stutter.

“Thanks,” you said softly, your voice quieter than you intended.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His hand still lingered near your arm, and his blue eyes searched yours, like he was trying to make sure you were really okay. The way he looked at you sent warmth flooding through your chest, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little rough as he cleared his throat and glanced away, dropping his hand. “No problem.”

The moment should have passed quickly, and in a way, it did. The two of you resumed walking, and you tried to pick up where you left off in your story, but the words didn’t flow as easily as before.

You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your arm, and the faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air between you, warm and grounding. You sneaked a glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His expression was neutral, maybe even a little guarded, but there was something in the way his shoulders stayed slightly tense, like he wasn’t as unaffected as he was trying to seem.

“Anyway,” you said finally, forcing a lighter tone than you felt, trying to shake off the moment. “I eventually got off the fence—no thanks to my brother—and my mom grounded him for laughing at me instead of helping.”

Bucky huffed out a small laugh, glancing at you with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sounds like he deserved it.”

“He did,” you replied, smiling back. But even as the words left your lips, your chest still felt too tight, the air between you charged with something unspoken.

For a moment, silence fell between you again, the sounds of the city around you filling the space. You thought about changing the subject, maybe shifting the focus to something safer, but then Bucky spoke again, his voice quieter this time, almost tentative.

“You never told me that stuff before,” he said, his gaze flickering to yours briefly before dropping to the sidewalk in front of him.

Your breath caught, the simple statement hitting harder than you expected. “You never asked,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

He froze mid-step, his expression tightening as though your response had struck a nerve. Slowly, he turned to face you, his brows furrowing. “You’re right,” he murmured, his voice heavy with something you couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t. I should have. I… God, I was such an ass.”

The rawness in his tone, the weight of his words, caught you off guard. You stopped walking, your arms crossing instinctively as you looked at him. “Bucky…” you started, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to handle the way his voice cracked slightly at the end.

“No, let me say this,” he interrupted gently, holding up a hand. His eyes were fixed on you now, their usual guardedness giving way to something more vulnerable, more open. “I didn’t ask because I didn’t take the time to. I didn’t take the time to know all the little things about you, to ask the questions I should’ve asked. And you deserved better than that.”

You stared at him, the lump in your throat making it hard to respond. Part of you wanted to brush it off, to lighten the moment with a joke or deflect the way you always did. But the sincerity in his voice, the regret etched into every word, made that impossible.

“It wasn’t just you,” you said finally, your voice soft but steady. “I didn’t exactly make it easy for you to ask. I didn’t want to… I don’t know, bother you with that kind of stuff.”

His expression twisted, a mixture of frustration and sadness flashing across his face. “You could never bother me,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I just… I didn’t know how to show you that. And I hate that I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between you, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. You weren’t used to this version of Bucky—the one who didn’t deflect or shut down, who didn’t hide behind charm or easy jokes.

You looked away, your arms tightening around yourself as you tried to collect your thoughts. “You’re not that guy anymore,” you said quietly. “At least, not the way you were back then.”

When you glanced back at him, his lips twitched into the faintest hint of a sad smile. “I’m trying not to be,” he admitted. “But I’m still scared sometimes. Scared I’ll screw it all up again.”

Your heart ached at the honesty in his voice, at the vulnerability he wasn’t even trying to hide. For so long, you’d wanted him to let you in, to let you see the parts of him he kept locked away. And now that he finally was, you didn’t know what to do with it.

“You’re not screwing it up,” you said softly, your voice trembling just enough for him to notice. “Not this time.”

His shoulders seemed to relax slightly, the tension in his posture easing as he nodded. “That means a lot, coming from you,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting yours again.

You smiled faintly, the warmth in your chest battling with the lingering unease that never quite left you when it came to him. “Well,” you said, trying to lighten the mood just enough to steady yourself, “don’t let it go to your head.”

A small laugh escaped him, and the sound was enough to ease some of the heaviness between you. “I’ll try not to,” he said, his voice lighter now, though the softness in his eyes remained.

As the two of you started walking again, the tension between you began to ease, replaced by a quiet understanding that felt… different.

“So, what happened after your brother got grounded?” Bucky asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You glanced at him, surprised. “What?”

“With the fence story,” he clarified, his lips quirking into a small smile. “I feel like there’s more to it.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, unexpected but genuine. “There isn’t, really,” you said, shaking your head. “Unless you count me swearing off fences forever.”

“I don’t know,” he teased, his smile widening. “Sounds like a pretty big life lesson to me.”

The conversation felt easy again, the weight of the past moment lifting as you fell back into a rhythm. But even as you laughed and talked, a part of you held onto the warmth of his earlier words, the quiet vulnerability he’d let slip through.

As you walked, the city swirled around you, but the warmth in your chest lingered, stubborn and insistent. You told yourself it was nothing, just a moment of shared connection, the kind you could have with a friend.

But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart had raced when he’d stepped in front of you or the way his voice had dropped, low and protective, when he’d told you to be careful. And you couldn’t forget the way his eyes had lingered on yours.

---

The house was warm, filled with the smell of pizza and the faint tang of beer. Someone’s carefully curated playlist hummed softly in the background, though it was mostly drowned out by the laughter and loud debates that erupted from the living room.

The night had been a blur of board games, drinks, and playful arguments. Sam was his usual loud self, dramatically accusing everyone of cheating during Monopoly, even when he was. Wanda sat cross-legged on the floor, giggling at his antics while Natasha smugly stacked up her fake money, clearly winning. Steve, meanwhile, tried—and failed—to keep everyone in line, his voice cutting through the chaos.

“Sam, you can’t just take money from the bank whenever you feel like it!” Steve exclaimed, gesturing wildly at the board.

“It’s called resourcefulness, Rogers,” Sam shot back, grinning as he leaned back on his elbows.

“It’s called cheating,” Natasha said dryly, exchanging an amused glance with Wanda.

“Call it what you want,” Sam said, shrugging. “I call it strategic gameplay.”

“You’re impossible,” Steve muttered, rubbing his temples as Wanda giggled beside him.

You sat on the arm of the couch, sipping your drink and watching the scene unfold with a smile. Nights like this felt comfortable, even easy—though the comfort was always tinged with a quiet tension whenever Bucky was nearby.

From across the room, you caught sight of him leaning against the wall, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he watched Steve and Sam go at it. His hair was slightly mussed from earlier, when Natasha had flicked a piece of popcorn at him during a heated round of Codenames. He looked relaxed, but every so often, his gaze would flick to you, lingering just a little too long before shifting away.

As the night began to wind down, people started drifting off. Natasha leaned back against Steve’s chest on the couch, flipping through channels, while Sam loudly declared that he was “retiring undefeated” from board games. Wanda laughed softly, shaking her head as she began stacking up the pieces from Monopoly.

You slipped into the kitchen to rinse out your glass, grateful for a brief moment of quiet. The sink ran softly as you washed the remnants of red wine from the bottom of the cup.

A familiar presence entered the room a moment later, filling the small space without saying a word.

“Need help?” Bucky asked, his voice soft and low.

You glanced over your shoulder, finding him leaning casually against the counter. His sleeves were still rolled up, and his hair was falling into his eyes in a way that made your chest feel uncomfortably tight, your fingers twitching wanting to run your fingers through it.

“No, I’m good,” you said, turning back to the sink. But he didn’t leave.

Instead, he stepped closer, grabbing a towel from the counter. His presence was steady, grounding, but it made the space between you feel smaller, more intimate.

“You sure?” he asked lightly, and you could hear the faint smile in his voice.

You nodded, drying the glass in your hands. “Yeah. It’s just a couple of glasses.”

He stayed anyway, leaning a little closer as you reached for the towel he was holding. Your fingers brushed against his, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt up your arm.

You froze, your breath catching as you quickly pulled your hand back.

“Sorry,” you muttered, your voice too quiet.

“Don’t be,” he said softly, his tone gentle but firm.

When you finally looked up, you found his eyes already on you. The softness there caught you off guard—blue and steady, full of something unspoken. It was the kind of look that made your heart race, your thoughts scrambling for something to say, anything to break the silence.

But you couldn’t. You were frozen in place, caught in the quiet gravity of him.

The air felt heavier, charged, like the world outside the kitchen had faded away. Your fingers gripped the counter behind you for balance as he leaned in slightly, his gaze flickering briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“Y/n…” His voice was low, almost hesitant, and it made your chest tighten painfully.

You could feel his breath, warm against your skin, and for a moment, you thought he might actually close the distance. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to, weren’t sure if you’d stop him if he did.

But before either of you could move, a booming voice broke through the moment like a crack of thunder.

“Steve, I swear to God, I didn’t cheat!”

“Sam, you literally took money out of the bank when you thought no one was looking!” Steve yelled back, his voice full of exasperation.

“It’s just a game!” Wanda called out, clearly trying—and failing—to mediate.

Bucky exhaled sharply, pulling back slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. “Monopoly isn’t just a game,” he murmured, his voice light but tinged with humor. “It’s a lifestyle.”

The comment was loud enough to carry into the living room, and Natasha’s sharp laugh cut through the noise. “He’s not wrong,” she called back.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, though your chest still felt tight. The moment was gone, but the tension lingered, humming faintly in the space between you.

As you moved to step past him, his hand brushed lightly against yours again, a touch so brief it might have been accidental. But when you looked up at him, his eyes were still locked on yours, steady and unreadable.

“Y/n,” he said softly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, his voice pulling your attention back to him.

But before he could say anything else, Natasha poked her head into the kitchen. “Hey, are you two gonna join us, or are you just gonna hide in here all night?”

The spell broke again, and you stepped back, putting more space between you and Bucky as you smiled faintly. “We’re coming,” you said quickly, brushing past him as you headed toward the door.

He lingered for a moment, watching you go, before following you back into the living room.

-----

The bar was packed, music pounding through the room as laughter and voices swirl together in a cacophony of chaos. You’re sitting at a table with Wanda and Natasha, nursing a drink and laughing at something Natasha said. Across the room, you catch a glimpse of Bucky leaning against the bar, his relaxed smile softening the hard lines of his face.

It’s one of those nights where everything feels easy. Because everything has been, you can't help but smile at the fact that letting Buck in your life was the right decision and you were grateful that you made it for once you felt that you were both close to crossing that line again but this time you were doing it right and your heart swelled up the thought of him being your right person at the right time finally after years of back-and-forth.

Until she shows up.The one from the farmers market, when you swore off Bucky for good.

You don’t notice her at first, too caught up in the conversation at your table. But when Natasha’s gaze flicks over your shoulder, her smile fading slightly, you follow her line of sight.

She’s tall, gorgeous, and entirely too familiar. And the feeling in your guy is dark, anxious and makes you feel sick.

Your stomach tightens as you watch her approach him, her confident smile and the way she places a hand on his arm. You don’t miss the way she leans in, her lips brushing his ear as she says something you can’t hear.

You force yourself to look away, trying to focus on the drink in your hand. But you can’t stop the wave of jealousy that crashes over you, your mind spinning with all the worst-case scenarios.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asks quietly, her voice barely audible over the music.

“I’m fine,” you lie, your throat tight.

You glance back toward the bar, and that’s when you see it.

She leans in, her lips pressing against his in a kiss that feels like a knife twisting in your chest.

For a moment, you can’t move. Your brain struggles to catch up with what you’re seeing, your breath caught somewhere between disbelief and devastation.

You look away immediately, not waiting to see him kiss her back. When you finally decide to look, one last time before you leave.

His eyes are scanning the room, panic taking over his face. And then they land on you.

The hurt in your expression must be clear, because his face falls when he realizes you saw. “Wait!” he yells, rushing toward you.

But you don’t wait. You grab your bag and slip through the crowd, ignoring Wanda and Natasha’s calls after you.

Sam watches as you storm past him, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s going on?” he asks, trying to reach out to you, when you ignore him he turns to Natasha.

“Trouble,” she says simply, her eyes following you before flicking back to Bucky, who’s shoving past the crowd and running after you.

Sam starts to follow, “That mother fucker…” but Natasha grabs his arm, stopping him.

“Leave it,” she says firmly.

Sam glares at her, his jaw tightening. “I don’t care if he was fooling all of us, she's my best friend.”

Natasha’s expression softens, but her grip on his arm doesn’t falter. “This time is different, Sam” she says quietly. “I can tell. He’s not going to let her walk away again.”

Sam exhales sharply, but he doesn’t argue. “For her sake, I hope you’re right.”

You’re halfway down the street when you hear him frantically calling after you.

“Wait! Please, just wait!”

You don’t stop, your chest tight with anger and betrayal. But his footsteps are faster than yours, and soon he’s in front of you, blocking your path.

“Move,” you say sharply, your voice trembling.

“No,” he says firmly, his hands up in surrender. “Please, just listen to me.”

You fold your arms over your chest, your whole body trembling with anger and something deeper—something you don’t want to name. Your eyes are burning as you glare at him, hot tears pooling at the edges of your vision. “I saw you, Bucky. I saw it! God, I’m so stupid!”

“I didn’t kiss her back,” he says quickly, his voice frantic, almost panicked. “I didn’t even know she was going to—she just showed up, and before I could stop her, she—”

You shake your head, cutting him off before he can finish. “I don’t care. I don’t care, Bucky. This—” You gesture wildly between the two of you, your voice cracking. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this with you. Why I didn’t want to trust you again!”

Your voice rises, each word sharper than the last, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. “You don’t understand what it’s like to feel this way, to love someone so much it hurts, and then watch them ruin you over and over again.”

His jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer, his hands raised slightly like he’s afraid to spook you. “I do understand,” he says, his voice low and hoarse. “I understand it because I feel that way about you. Every day.”

You laugh bitterly, a hollow, broken sound. “If you felt that way, you wouldn’t keep breaking my heart.”

He looks at you like the words physically hurt him, but you don’t stop. “Do you have any idea how hard this has been for me? How much it’s taken for me to even let you this close again? And now, after everything, I’m supposed to just stand here and believe you?” You poke him in the chest, your voice trembling as tears stream freely down your face. “Why should I?”

His lips part as though he’s going to respond, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just stares at you, his eyes wide, his expression wrecked. Finally, he whispers, “Because I love you.”

The words hang in the air between you like a live wire, crackling and sparking.

“You’re funny,” you snap, the anger masking the ache in your chest. “You love me? All you do is hurt me and make me cry, Bucky. I don’t even know why I’m still standing here!”

He flinches but doesn’t move, his blue eyes locked on yours. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts a hand, brushing away the tears trailing down your cheek. His touch is impossibly gentle, like he’s afraid you might shatter under his fingertips.

“I didn’t kiss her,” he says, his voice raw and quiet. “I don’t want to kiss her. I don’t want to kiss or feel or be with or love anyone but you.”

You close your eyes, his words hitting too close to the place inside you where the ache lives. “You can’t blame me for not trusting you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“I’m not blaming you,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “I’m not. I know I’ve screwed up before, more times than I can count.I know I’ve hurt you, and I hate myself for it.” His voice breaks, trembling at the edges. “I know I ran out of chances years ago. But please, you’ve gotta give me the benefit of the doubt with this one. Just this one, please.”

His desperation makes your throat tighten. You look at him, your heart pounding painfully in your chest. He looks completely wrecked, his blue eyes wide and pleading, his entire body tense like he’s holding himself together by sheer force of will.

“I don’t know if I can,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Yes, you can,” he says quickly, stepping closer, his voice soft but insistent. “I know you can. Please don’t walk away from me. Not again—I can’t do that again.”

You close your eyes, willing the tears to stop, but they don’t. They fall faster now, hot and unrelenting. “I’m so scared,” you admit, your voice breaking. “I don’t think I can survive this if you hurt me again.”

His expression crumbles, and for a moment, he looks like he might fall apart too. But then he takes another step closer, his hands trembling as he reaches for yours. “You won’t have to survive it again,” he says quietly. “Because I’m not going to hurt you. I swear to you, I’m not. I can’t lose you. Not again. You mean everything to me.”

The raw sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache so badly it’s hard to breathe. You don’t move, torn between the love you still feel for him and the fear of opening yourself up to more pain.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” you say softly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“That's okay, I’ll make you believe me,” he says, his voice steady despite the tears shining in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just… don’t give up on us. Please.”

The world feels like it’s tilting beneath your feet, every emotion colliding at once. You look at him, your tears mingling with his as his hands tighten gently around yours.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you whisper, the vulnerability in your voice making you flinch.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he says softly. “I’ll wait as long as you need. I’ll show you every day if that’s what it takes. Just… don’t walk away.”

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is heavy, but it’s not empty—it’s full of everything you’ve both left unsaid, full of hope and hurt and the possibility of something better.

Finally, you nod, just barely, the movement so small it’s almost imperceptible. But he sees it.

His shoulders sag with relief, and he steps closer, his forehead nearly touching yours as he exhales shakily. “Thank you,” he whispers.

You don’t say anything, your chest still tight, your emotions too raw. But when his hands brush against yours again, you don’t pull away.

----

The routine of meeting Bucky for coffee came to a halt after you saw the kiss. Or, more accurately, her kiss him. It didn’t matter that you knew what you saw wasn’t the full story; it didn’t matter that you knew in your gut that he wasn’t the one who leaned in first. The sight of it had cracked something in you, leaving all your old doubts and fears to spill through the cracks.

For a week, you ignored his texts, his calls, even the coffee shop where you’d fallen into the rhythm of meeting him. He hadn’t pushed—not at first. He gave you the space you needed, though you could feel his presence lingering like a shadow.

It was Wanda who called you out, her name lighting up your phone screen as you sat on your couch, staring at the untouched glass of wine on your coffee table.

You answered on the third ring, your voice tight. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said, her tone light but laced with something careful. “How’s it going?”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Fine.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly not buying it. “So… are you just going to keep ignoring him forever?”

Your chest tightened, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of a blanket draped over the couch. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

Wanda didn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence made you squirm. “He keeps asking about you, you know,” she said finally. “Every time I see him, it’s the same question: ‘Is she okay?’”

You swallowed hard, closing your eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Wanda. I just… it’s hard. He keeps saying he’s different, and I do believe it, I do. But then I see something like that, and all I can think about is how it felt before—when he ignored me, when he brushed me off like I didn’t matter.”

She sighed softly. “I get that. I do. But you should know… he didn’t kiss her back. I was there. He didn’t even hesitate before pushing her away.”

“I know,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. “I know that. But it doesn’t make it easier. Because nobody gets to me the way he does, Wanda. Nobody ever has. He has this… hold on me, and it’s terrifying to feel that way about someone who’s hurt you before.”

Wanda’s voice softened, filled with sympathy. “I understand, Y/n. I do. It’s hard to let yourself be that vulnerable again when you’ve been burned. But I think… I think he’s trying, really trying. And maybe—”

There was a knock at your door.

You froze, your breath catching as you glanced toward the sound. “Hey, Wanda, I’ll call you back,” you said quickly.

“Bucky?” she asked knowingly.

“I’ll call you back,” you repeated before ending the call.

You hesitated for a long moment, your hand hovering over the doorknob. When you finally opened it, there he was.

Bucky stood there, his broad frame filling the doorway, a book tucked under his arm. His hair was slightly messy, and his blue eyes, normally so guarded, were filled with something soft and unsure.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice a little rough.

You blinked, surprised. “Bucky.”

He held out the book, almost like a peace offering. It was the one you’d mentioned weeks ago during one of your coffee meetings, a passing comment you’d thought he wouldn’t remember.

“What’s this?” you asked, your voice tentative.

He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but the faint flush creeping up his neck gave him away. “Saw it and thought of you.”

You stared at him, your fingers brushing against the cover as you took it. The gesture struck you harder than it should have, and you felt the familiar ache in your chest. “Bucky…”

“It’s just a book,” he said quickly, his voice faltering slightly. “Nothing big.”

But it felt big. It felt impossibly big.

“Thank you,” you said softly, running your fingers over the cover.

There was a pause, a heavy silence that seemed to stretch out between you. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

“You gonna let me in, or should I go?” he asked lightly, a faint, hopeful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You stepped back, gesturing for him to come inside. “Um yeah. Sure.”

The air between you felt charged as he followed you into the kitchen. You set the book down on the counter, trying to focus on the mundane action as a way to steady yourself.

“Do you want some tea or something?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

“Sure,” he said, leaning against the counter. His eyes never left you, and you could feel his gaze like a physical weight.

As you filled the kettle, the silence grew heavier, the unspoken words between you pressing down like a storm cloud. Finally, Bucky broke it.

“Y/n,” he started, his voice soft but steady. “I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, but I need to say something.”

You didn’t look at him, your fingers tightening on the kettle handle. “Bucky…”

“Please,” he said, stepping closer. “Just let me say this.”

You exhaled shakily, setting the kettle down and turning to face him. “Okay.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with the words. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and raw. “I messed up. Not just last week, not just with her, but before—all of it. I know I hurt you, I knew I was and I can’t take that back. But I swear to you, I’m not that guy anymore. I’m not.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, your heart pounding. “How am I supposed to believe that, Bucky? How am I supposed to trust that this time will be different?”

“Because it already is,” he said quickly, his voice rising slightly with urgency. “I’m trying, Y/n. I’m going to therapy. I’m showing up. I’m doing the work because I want to be better—for you.”

His words hit you like a wave, and your throat tightened as you blinked back tears. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to let someone back in after they’ve broken you?”

“I do,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “Because I’m terrified every day that I’ve lost you for good. But I can’t let you go without trying—without proving to you that I can be the person you deserve.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, and you looked away, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’m scared,” you whispered. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll hurt me all over again.”

“I won’t,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “I promise you, I won’t. Just… let me try. Please.”

You didn’t move, your heart warring with your head. The love you felt for him was still there, buried under the hurt and the fear, but it was there.

He reached out slowly, his hand brushing against yours. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you so damn much.”

For a long moment, you didn’t say anything, your mind racing. But as you looked up at him, his blue eyes filled with nothing but raw, aching honesty, you felt something inside you begin to crack open.

“I can’t promise you anything,” you said softly. “But… I’ll try.”

A flicker of hope lit in his eyes, and he nodded, his hand squeezing yours gently. “That’s all I need.”

---

The trip to the cabin was Steve’s idea, of course. “We all need a break,” he had insisted weeks ago, his voice full of conviction. “No distractions, no work, just friends, fresh air, and some well-earned relaxation and of course alcohol.”

It had taken very little convincing to get everyone out there. The cabin was nestled deep in the woods, surrounded by towering pine trees and the faint sound of a nearby creek. The air smelled fresh, crisp, and you almost forgot how much you’d hesitated about coming—about being this close to Bucky, about opening yourself up to feelings you weren’t sure you could handle.

The first night was loud and chaotic, in the best way possible. Everyone gathered in the living room after dinner, the fire crackling in the stone fireplace. Bottles of wine and beer were scattered across the coffee table, along with a half-empty bottle of whiskey Sam had brought along and a stack of mismatched board games Natasha had insisted on bringing.

Natasha was leaning against Steve on the couch, her legs draped over his lap as she sipped her drink. Sam had claimed one of the armchairs, gesturing wildly as he recounted some ridiculous story about his time in the military. Wanda was curled up on the floor next to him, her cheeks pink from laughing too hard.

“And I swear to God, the guy thought he could outrun the damn helicopter,” Sam was saying, his hands moving animatedly.

Wanda snorted, nearly spilling her wine. “Oh my God, did he?”

“Obviously not!” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. “But he gave it his best shot. Dumbest thing I’ve ever seen, but you’ve got to respect the effort.”

Steve shook his head, chuckling. “I feel like you’ve told this story at least three times now.”

“Yeah, and it gets better every time,” Sam shot back, grinning.

“Maybe for you,” Natasha quipped, smirking. “For the rest of us, it’s just confirmation that you’ve always been impossible.”

“I am a delight, Romanoff,” Sam said, mock-offended.

“You’re something,” she muttered under her breath, making Wanda laugh.

Across the room, you were perched on the edge of a chair, nursing your drink and watching the back-and-forth unfold. Bucky sat on the arm of your chair, close enough that his shoulder occasionally brushed against yours.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You glanced at him, startled by his closeness. “Just enjoying the show,” you replied, gesturing toward Sam, who was now debating something ridiculous with Steve.

Bucky smiled faintly, his eyes warm. “It’s good to see you like this,” he murmured. “Relaxed. Happy.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you felt a warmth rise in your chest that had nothing to do with the fire or the whiskey in your hand. “I guess I’m starting to figure things out,” you said quietly.

His gaze lingered on you, soft and unreadable, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. But then Natasha made some sarcastic comment about Monopoly, and the group burst into laughter, shattering the moment.

As the night wore on, the group slowly began to drift off. Wanda yawned and declared she was calling it a night, and Natasha soon followed, dragging Steve along with her despite his protests that he wanted to stay up. Sam was the last to go, grumbling about how he wasn’t tired even as he stumbled toward the stairs.

Soon, it was just you and Bucky.

You stood in the kitchen, rinsing out your glass. The firelight flickered faintly from the living room, and the cabin had grown quiet, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams.

Bucky walked in, his footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. He leaned against the counter, watching you.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and careful.

You nodded, not looking at him. “Yeah. Just winding down.”

He stepped closer, his presence filling the small space. “You sure? You seemed a little… distant earlier.”

You sighed, setting the glass down and finally turning to face him. “It’s just been a long day.”

His eyes searched yours, and you felt the weight of his gaze, the quiet intensity that always seemed to disarm you. “If there’s anything you want to talk about…” he started, but you shook your head.

“I’m fine, Bucky,” you said softly, offering a small, tired smile.

He nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful.

Later, you paced your room, your thoughts racing too much to settle. The cabin was quiet now, the kind of quiet that made everything feel sharper, more immediate. You couldn’t stop replaying the moments from earlier—the way Bucky had looked at you, the warmth in his voice when he said it was good to see you happy.

It was too much, and not enough all at once.

Finally, you decided to leave your room, the air feeling too stifling. But as you stepped into the hallway, you nearly collided with someone.

“Sorry,” you muttered, taking a step back.

“Y/n?”

It was Bucky.

You froze, your eyes locking with his. For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension between you palpable.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi,” he replied, his voice low and steady.

The space between you felt impossibly small, and as his gaze held yours, you saw something there—something raw and unguarded. Slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

His hand lingered, his thumb grazing your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your breath hitch as his thumb trailed down, brushing against your bottom lip.

“Bucky…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t move, his blue eyes searching yours as if waiting for permission.

Your hands lifted, hesitating for just a moment before resting against his chest. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms, and the warmth of him made your chest ache.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop.

And then you kissed him.

It was soft at first, hesitant, but the second his lips moved against yours, the floodgates opened. His hands cupped your face, holding you like you were something precious, and the kiss deepened, heat and longing pouring into every movement.

You stumbled back slightly, your back hitting the wall as his body pressed against yours. The air was thick with the heat between you, and his lips left yours just long enough to murmur, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice shaking with certainty. “Yes, Bucky. Please.”

Bucky's lips found yours again, urgent but soft, like he couldn't quite believe this was happening. His hands were firm and steady as they cupped your face, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks as though trying to memorize every inch of your skin.

Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. The heat of him pressed against you, grounding and consuming all at once.

The tension that had built between you for so long— weeks, months, years-was finally unraveling, pouring out in every kiss, every touch.

"Bucky," you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling.

His forehead rested against yours for a brief moment, his breath warm and uneven. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmured, his voice rough and filled with restraint.

You shook your head, your hands sliding up to rest on either side of his face. "I don't want you to stop," you said, your words firm despite the shakiness in your tone.

Something flickered in his eyes-relief, longing, something deeper. He kissed you again, his hands sliding down to your waist as he gently guided you backward, step by step, toward your room.

The door closed softly behind you, but neither of you noticed. All that mattered was the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands settled on your hips before gliding up your sides. You gasped as his fingertips brushed the hem of your shirt, and he paused, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice quieter now, almost pleading.

"Yes," you said, your voice firmer this time. "Yes, I'm sure."

He nodded, his hands steady but his touch reverent as he helped you pull your shirt over your head. His lips found your neck, leaving a trail of warmth that made you shiver. Your hands roamed his chest, slipping under the fabric of his shirt until he let out a low, shaky laugh and pulled it off in one motion.

Every moment felt unhurried yet desperate, like the two of you were trying to savor every second while making up for lost time. You didn't think about what came next, didn't think about the consequences. All you could focus on was the way Bucky whispered your name like it was sacred, the way his hands held you like you were something he never wanted to let go of again.

When the two of you finally came together, it felt like the world outside your room didn't exist anymore. He moved with care, his lips finding yours again and again, his voice rough as he murmured your name in between kisses. He asked if you were okay, if you needed anything, if you wanted him to stop.

And every time, your answer was the same.

"Yes, Bucky. I'm sure."

When you woke up the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the window felt harsh, almost intrusive. Your head was still heavy with sleep, but the events of the night before came rushing back in vivid detail.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your hands over your face as panic began to creep in. What had you done? You had told yourself you'd be careful with Bucky, that you'd protect yourself this time. But now? Now you'd opened yourself up completely, and the fear of what came next made your chest tighten.

Your heart sank as your gaze flickered to the empty side of the bed. He was gone.

You sat there for a moment, your hands gripping the edge of the blanket as the familiar ache of heartbreak began to settle in. "Of course," you whispered bitterly to yourself. "Of course, he left."

But just as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the door to the bathroom opened, and Bucky stepped out, a towel draped around his neck.

He froze when he saw you, his expression softening immediately. "Hey," he said, his voice still rough with sleep.

You blinked at him, relief washing over you so quickly it made you dizzy. "Hey," you said softly, your voice trembling.

His brows knit together as he crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you said quickly, but the way your voice cracked betrayed you.

"Don't lie to me," he said gently, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

"What's going on?"

You hesitated, your fingers twisting in the fabric of the blanket. "It's stupid," you muttered.

"It's not stupid if it's got you looking this upset," he said, his voice firm but kind. His thumb brushed lightly between your eyebrows, smoothing out the small crease there. "Put that worry wrinkle away, sweetheart."

You let out a shaky laugh, but your chest still felt tight. "Please don't get mad at me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"Mad at you?" he said, his tone incredulous. "I could never get mad at you. Just talk to me."

You took a deep breath, your eyes dropping to your hands. "I thought you left," you admitted finally. "When I woke up and you weren't here, I just... I panicked."

For a moment, he didn't say anything, and you risked a glance up at him. His jaw had clenched, his expression flickering with something you couldn't quite place-guilt, maybe, or frustration. But whatever it was, it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by quiet understanding.

"I get it," he said softly, his voice steady. "And I'm sorry. I should've said something, told you i was just getting up for a minute. But I'm not going anywhere this time. I’m sorry I made you feel that way."

The sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten, and you nodded, swallowing hard.

"Okay," you said quietly.

He reached out, his hand covering yours, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. "You believe me?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "I do."

He started to lean in but the moment was broken by a knock at the door.

"Y/n?" Steve's voice called out from the other side. "Have you seen Bucky?"

Before you could respond, Natasha's laugh rang out from the hallway. "Steve, give it a rest. He's probably hiding from Sam."

"Or in the bathroom," Sam's voice chimed in. "Probably pooping. Breakfast is ready, by the way!"

You and Bucky exchanged a look, both of you bursting into quiet laughter.

"I guess we should join them," you said, smiling softly.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer. "We should. Are we okay?”

You nodded “Were okay.”

---

The cabin had been a turning point for both of you, though neither of you dared to say it aloud. That night, tangled in the sheets and each other’s arms, had felt like a step forward—and yet, when morning came, the step wasn’t as certain as you’d hoped.

You hadn’t told anyone about what happened that night. Not Wanda, not Natasha, not anyone. They hadn’t suspected a thing, and honestly, you preferred it that way. Keeping it to yourself made it feel less complicated, like something you could push to the back of your mind when you needed to.

And after the cabin? Everything had gone back to normal. Or at least, you pretended it had. Bucky didn’t push or pry; he didn’t mention the night, didn’t ask for more. Instead, he gave you space—space to think, space to process, space to figure out what you really wanted.

For two weeks, you existed in this limbo, circling back to the quiet, steady friendship you’d rebuilt before the cabin. It was easier that way. Comfortable. Safe.

And yet, you couldn’t ignore the tension lingering beneath the surface. Every look, every touch, every shared laugh felt weighted, charged with unspoken words. You were grateful for his patience, but it terrified you too. Because the truth was, you didn’t know how to take the next step—or if you even could.

The room was alive with energy. It was the kind of night where the drinks flowed freely, the music hummed in the background, and everyone seemed to be in good spirits.

You’d lost count of how many drinks Sam had handed you, but you weren’t complaining. The warmth of the alcohol helped take the edge off, loosening the knot that always seemed to form in your chest when Bucky was around.

Wanda was perched on the armrest of a chair, laughing at one of Steve’s terrible jokes, while Natasha sat cross-legged on the floor, carefully stacking playing cards into a makeshift tower. Sam was dramatically recounting a story from his military days, gesturing so wildly that he knocked over one of Natasha’s stacks.

“Sam!” Natasha groaned, glaring at him.

“You can’t blame me for being animated!” Sam shot back, grinning.

“Nat, you should know by now that Sam’s hands talk more than his mouth does,” Steve teased, earning a laugh from Wanda.

“Hey, don’t drag me into this,” Wanda said, raising her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just here for the show.”

You stood by the bar, sipping your drink and smiling faintly at their banter. The atmosphere was easy and familiar, but your gaze kept drifting across the room—to him.

Bucky.

He was leaning against the wall, laughing at something Steve said, but his eyes kept flicking to you, like he couldn’t help himself.

Wanda noticed, of course. She always did.

“You’re staring,” she said softly, nudging you with her elbow.

You startled, quickly looking away. “I’m not staring,” you muttered.

She raised an eyebrow. “Sure you’re not.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Wanda. We’re fine. We’re friends.”

“Friends who spent the night together at the cabin and haven’t addressed it since?” she asked, her voice careful but pointed.

You froze, your grip tightening on your glass. “We’re fine,” you repeated, your tone sharper this time. “I’m okay with the way things are.”

“Are you?” she asked quietly, tilting her head. “Is he?”

You didn’t answer, and she sighed. “Look, I know why you’re scared. And I get it—you’ve been through a lot with him. But don’t you think it’s worth figuring out what you actually want? Instead of hiding behind what feels safe?”

Before you could respond, Sam called out from across the room.

“Y/n! We’re playing charades, and you’re on my team!”

You rolled your eyes, grateful for the distraction. “Duty calls,” you said, ignoring Wanda’s knowing look as you moved to join the group.

--

After an intense game of charades that somehow devolved into everyone laughing more than guessing, Sam threw his hands in the air as you acted out his final clue—a ridiculous, flailing impression of a penguin that left the entire room in stitches.

“That’s it!” Sam shouted, pumping his fists in the air. “Team Sam for the win, baby!”

“Barely!” Natasha called from across the room, rolling her eyes as she leaned back against Steve’s chest. “You two cheated!”

“We didn’t cheat,” Sam argued, grabbing your hand and spinning you around dramatically. “We’re just that good.”

You laughed, breathless as Sam gave you an exaggerated hug, lifting you off the ground before setting you back down. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head as you tried to catch your breath.

“And you love it,” Sam said with a wink before grabbing a beer from the table.

The room was still buzzing with laughter and chatter as you headed toward the kitchen to grab another drink. The warmth of the alcohol and the easy, familiar energy of your friends made you feel lighter than you had in weeks.

But as you opened the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water to offset the buzz in your head, you felt it—that familiar shift in the air.

When you turned, there he was.

Bucky stood a few feet away, his shoulders tense, his expression unreadable as he watched you. There was something in his eyes that made your chest tighten, though you couldn’t quite place what it was.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer.

“Hey,” you replied, offering a faint smile as you twisted the cap off your bottle. “Having fun?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his voice low.

The response caught you off guard, and you raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Instead of answering, he looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening. Then, with a deep breath, he met your gaze again. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, your grip tightening on the bottle in your hand. “Now?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Please.”

Something in his voice made it impossible to say no, and you nodded, setting the bottle down on the counter. “Okay.”

He led you to a quieter corner of the room, away from the noise and laughter of your friends. The firelight from the living room flickered faintly against the walls, and the hum of conversation faded into the background as he turned to face you.

You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling exposed under the intensity of his gaze. “What’s going on, Bucky?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders stiff as if he was bracing himself for something. “I can’t do this anymore,” he said quietly.

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, and your stomach dropped. “Do what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “Being your friend.”

You blinked, your heart pounding as your mind scrambled to catch up. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said quickly, his voice low and insistent. “It’s not you, it’s me. I can’t, I can’t just be your friend anymore.”

Your arms tightened around yourself as you stared at him, confusion and hurt swirling in your chest. “Bucky, what are you talking about?”

He exhaled sharply, his hands flexing at his sides as he looked away. “I’ve been trying,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve been trying so damn hard to keep it together, to respect what you want, to just be here for you. But every time I see you, every time I hear your laugh or watch you smile, it’s like—”

He cut himself off, shaking his head as if the words were too much.

“Like what?” you pressed, your voice trembling.

His eyes snapped to yours, raw and vulnerable in a way that made your breath hitch. “Like I’m falling all over again.”

The weight of his confession settled heavily between you, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him.

“Bucky…” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he continued, his tone desperate now. “I can’t just stand on the sidelines and pretend I’m okay with being just your friend. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you.”

Your chest tightened, your pulse thrumming in your ears as his words washed over you.

“What do you want from me?” you asked softly, your voice shaking.

“Everything,” he said without hesitation, his voice raw and steady.

The word lingered in the air, heavy and unshakable.

His hand lifted slowly, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a touch so gentle it made your knees weak. His thumb traced along your jaw, his touch reverent and careful, like he was afraid you might break.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

Tears welled in your eyes, your breath hitching as you struggled to process his words.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he added quickly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “I just needed you to know. I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

The room felt too small, too quiet despite the distant hum of the party behind you. Your thoughts raced, a million emotions colliding all at once—fear, longing, hope.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he said softly, his forehead lowering to rest against yours. “I know, and I don’t blame you, I just wanna be with you already.”

Your hands lifted to rest against his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you closed your eyes. The sound of his heartbeat beneath your palms was steady, grounding, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the smallest flicker of hope.

“Okay,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “But no more running.”

“No more running,” he promised.

This time he made the first move, he leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that felt both tentative and certain, like he was pouring every unspoken word into the moment.

Behind you, someone (definitely Sam) yelled, “About damn time!” followed by Natasha’s dry laugh.

But none of it mattered.

When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, his hands steady as they cupped your face. “Let me show you,” he whispered. “Let me prove it to you, I’m gonna prove it to you…”

----

The difference this time was undeniable.

Before, being with Bucky had felt like reaching for something you couldn’t quite grasp—like he was always just out of reach, holding back pieces of himself he didn’t think you could handle. But now? Now, it felt like the walls had come down. He wasn’t hiding anymore. He wasn’t running. He was just… there, steady and present, and it made you feel like you could finally breathe.

The first time you really noticed it was about a week after Sam’s birthday party. The group had gone out for drinks at one of your usual spots, a cozy bar with low lighting and worn wooden tables. The air was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, and you were in the middle of laughing at something Natasha had said when you felt it—Bucky’s hand resting on the back of your chair.

It wasn’t hesitant or uncertain like it used to be. No, this time, his touch was solid and deliberate, like he wanted everyone to know you were his.

He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “You good, baby?”

The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, your heart stuttering in your chest. You looked up at him, and the soft smile on his face made you melt. “Yeah, I’m good,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He kissed your temple, quick and easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world, before straightening. His hand slid down to rest on your shoulder, not in a possessive way but in a protective, grounding way that made your chest ache in the best way.

When you glanced around the table, you caught Wanda smirking at you, her brow raised knowingly. Steve, seated across from you, gave Bucky a small nod of approval, a silent acknowledgment that spoke volumes.

It felt good. It felt right.

Later that night, while Bucky was off getting another round of drinks with Steve, you found yourself alone at the table with Wanda. She was swirling the last of her wine in her glass, her eyes twinkling as she looked at you.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.

She shrugged, feigning innocence. “Nothing. I’m just… happy for you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious,” she said, leaning forward. “You deserve this. And honestly? It’s about damn time he got his act together.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t know. Sometimes it still feels… fragile, you know?”

“Fragile?” she repeated, her brow furrowing.

“Like… I’m still waiting for something to happen, to go wrong,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “I know he’s not the same as he was. I can see it. But it’s hard to forget how things were before.”

Wanda reached across the table, her hand covering yours. “Y/n, listen to me. I know what he put you through, and I know how scared you are. But he’s not the same guy he was two years ago. He’s different. You can see it in the way he looks at you.”

You hesitated, her words sinking in. “You think so?”

“I know so,” she said firmly, squeezing your hand. “And I think you know it too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here with him right now.”

Before you could respond, Bucky returned to the table with a fresh drink in hand. He slid it in front of you with a soft smile before sitting back down, his knee brushing against yours under the table. Wanda shot you one last knowing look before turning the conversation to something else entirely.

A few nights later, you found yourself on the phone with Sam, who had called under the pretense of asking about a new restaurant but quickly steered the conversation elsewhere.

“So,” he said, his tone far too casual to be innocent. “You and Bucky, huh? Is it official?”

You groaned, flopping back onto your couch. “I knew this was coming.”

“What? I’m just checking in!” he said, feigning indignation. “As your best friend, it’s my job to make sure this guy isn’t screwing you over again.”

“Sam…” you warned, though there was no heat behind it.

He laughed, but his tone softened. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Honestly, I’m happy for you. I really am.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “You are?”

“Of course,” he said. “I mean, look, I was ready to kick his ass a few years ago, and I’m still on standby if you ever need me to.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh my God, Sam.”

“But,” he continued, his voice steady now, “I don’t think I’m going to have to worry about that. Not this time.”

The warmth in his words made your chest tighten, and you stayed silent, letting him continue.

“Bucky’s always looked at you like that, you know,” Sam said after a moment. “Like you’re the only thing in the room that matters. He just… wasn’t ready before. And I didn’t want to tell you that back then because I knew it’d only hurt you more. But now? Now I think he’s finally figured his shit out.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Sam said firmly. “And no one deserves happiness more than you, Y/n. Not after everything.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and you felt tears prick at your eyes. “Thanks, Sam,” you whispered.

“Don’t get all mushy on me now,” Sam teased, though his voice softened at the edges. “Seriously though, just know I’m here if you need me. But… honestly? I don’t think you will.”

You smiled faintly, your grip tightening on the phone. “I hope not,” you whispered, the words barely audible.

There was a pause, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice when he spoke again. “Anyway, I’m booking that reservation for the weekend. Make sure you fill your man in for me, will ya?”

“Sam!” you groaned, though you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Uh-uh,” Sam cut you off, his tone playful. “Don’t even start!”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks warmed at his words. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll take that as a thank-you for always looking out for you.”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice soft but sincere.

“Anytime,” he replied. “Just don’t forget to tell Bucky he owes me one for letting him off the hook.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “I’ll be sure to pass the message along.”

“You’d better,” Sam quipped. “Now go enjoy your night. And don’t worry so much, okay?”

“I’ll try,” you said, smiling as you hung up.

----

The next few weeks were a quiet kind of revelation. The Bucky you were getting to know now was someone entirely different from the man you’d fallen for before. Not because he’d changed into someone new, but because he’d finally let you see the parts of him he’d kept hidden for so long.

He started coming over more often, always bringing something with him. Flowers, your favorite coffee, a book he’d remembered you mentioning in passing weeks ago. He never showed up empty-handed, and every gesture felt thoughtful in a way that left your heart aching.

One Friday morning, you were rushing out the door for a long day at work when you nearly tripped over a small box sitting on your doorstep. Inside was a muffin from your favorite café and a note written in his messy scrawl: For the busiest girl I know—don’t forget to eat today. Love, B.

When you texted him a thank-you, he replied almost immediately:

You deserve it. Now go kill it today.

It was in the small things, the quiet moments, that you realized how much he’d changed.

-

The group met up for dinner at a lively restaurant. The table was loud, everyone shouting over one another as Natasha and Sam argued about who was better at pool. Wanda kept flicking her straw wrapper at Steve, who was trying—and failing—to mediate.

Bucky sat beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee beneath the table. It made you feel like the room could fall apart around you, and you’d still be okay.

“Nat, just admit you’re terrible at pool,” Sam teased, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

“I’m not terrible. I’m calculated,” Natasha shot back, narrowing her eyes.

“Sure,” Sam said, drawing out the word. “You’re so calculated that Steve had to make half your shots last time.”

“Excuse me,” Steve interjected, looking mildly alarmed. “I thought we weren’t bringing that up again.”

The group dissolved into laughter, and as you leaned forward to take a sip of your drink, Bucky reached over, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face.

When you glanced at him, surprised, he just smiled and said loud enough for everyone to hear, “What? You’re beautiful.”

The table fell quiet for half a beat. Natasha raised a brow in surprise, Wanda exchanged a look with Sam, and Sam grinned wide enough to split his face.

“Barnes,” Sam drawled, shaking his head. “Look at you, all smooth. Who are you, and what have you done with the grumpy man we knew?”

Bucky just shrugged, completely unbothered. “He’s retired.”

But as much as you were finding your rhythm with Bucky, there was one thing that hadn’t quite settled: being at his apartment.

Every time you were there, you felt… uneasy. Not in an obvious way, but Bucky noticed.

You sat on the edge of the couch instead of sinking into it. You fidgeted more, your eyes flicking around the room like you were looking for something—or avoiding something. And when you thought he wasn’t looking, your gaze lingered on the places that held the weight of old memories.

It was after one of these moments that Bucky found himself talking to Wanda. She’d stayed late after a group dinner, and the two of them were cleaning up the kitchen when Bucky finally asked, “Do you think she’s okay?”

Wanda paused, a glass in her hand. “Who?”

“Y/n,” he said, running a hand over the back of his neck. “She seems… I don’t know. Off. Especially when she’s here, am I doing something wrong? I thought everything was going perfect.”

Wanda’s eyes softened. “Bucky, it’s not you. It’s just… this place. There are memories here. Moments she can’t shake.” She hesitated, then added, “It’s like the air still held pieces of her sadness. And she’s trying, but being here? It’s hard for her.”

Bucky listened, his expression unreadable. But later that night, as he lay awake in bed, her words stayed with him. Because of course, why didn’t he think of that all the times he held you and told you, you were everything and then just to leave you high and dry the next day. All the times he called you over for his own selfishness just to wash you away less than 24 hours after.

It wasn’t long after that when you noticed something different. Bucky was quieter, distracted, like he was carrying something he hadn’t figured out how to share yet.

After dinner at your place, you finally asked.

“Okay, what’s going on?” you said, setting your glass down and turning to face him.

He blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been weird all night,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Is everything okay?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair before leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking about moving.”

Your brows furrowed in surprise. “Moving? Why?”

Bucky shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he tried to keep his tone casual. But you could see the flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes, something he wasn’t sure how to say out loud. “Out with the old, in with the new, right?” he said, forcing a small smile before letting it fade.

You tilted your head, studying him, waiting for the real reason to come out.

He hesitated, his fingers lightly tapping the edge of the table before continuing, “That place… it’s got too much history. And if we’re going to do this,” he gestured between the two of you, his voice softening, “I want to do it right. I don’t want you to feel like you’re walking into a past you didn’t ask for.”

The sincerity in his words hit you like a wave, making your throat tighten. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to steady yourself. The memories of his apartment, those nights you spent waiting, wondering, hurting, flashed through your mind, and you realized he wasn’t just talking about moving to a new place. He was trying to move on from everything that hurt you.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. His fingers were warm and steady, grounding you in a way that made the ache in your chest both better and worse. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

You nodded, your eyes stinging as you squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he said, his voice so full of quiet conviction that it made your chest ache.

He leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead before leaning back to grab the remote, a small, easy smile playing at his lips. “Okay, enough heavy stuff. Let’s pick a movie before we end up debating for an hour.”

You laughed faintly, the warmth of his kiss still lingering. But as he started scrolling through Netflix, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. The way his shoulders relaxed when he was with you, the soft hum he made under his breath when he was thinking—it was so different from the guarded, distant man you’d known before.

And that’s when the question slipped out, unbidden but insistent.

“Hey, Bucky?” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” he replied instantly, turning to look at you, his attention focused entirely on you.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But then you forced yourself to say it, your heart pounding. “What are we?”

The question hung in the air, the silence stretching just long enough for doubt to creep in. But then Bucky set the remote down, turning to face you fully. His expression wasn’t hesitant or uncertain like it used to be, it was serious, calm, and sure.

“You’re mine,” he said simply, the words soft but unwavering. “And I’m yours. That’s all I know, and it’s all I want to be.”

Your breath caught, your chest tightening as the weight of his words settled over you. His hands came up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Does that work for you?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost shy, like he wasn’t sure if he’d said too much.

You nodded, swallowing hard as emotion bubbled up in your chest. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It works.”

His lips curved into a small, relieved smile, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “Good,” he murmured, his thumbs still tracing soft patterns against your skin. “Because I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You just sat there, breathing him in, letting the weight of his words wash over you. The space between you didn’t feel like it was filled with doubt or hesitation, it felt solid. Real.

“Now,” he said after a beat, pulling back just enough to kiss the tip of your nose before reaching for the remote again. “What cheesy rom-com are we watching tonight? Because I know you’ve got one in mind.”

You laughed, the sound light and unguarded, as you reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. “You say that like you’re not the one who secretly loves rom-coms.”

“Hey,” he said, feigning indignation. “I’ve got a reputation to protect, doll.”

“Yeah, sure,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

He smiled at you, and the look in his eyes, the quiet joy, the undeniable love, made your heart ache in the best way.

You felt like you weren’t just falling. You were landing somewhere safe.

--

The sun was warm against your skin, filtering through the leafy trees that lined the bustling farmer’s market. The scent of fresh flowers, ripe fruit, and baked bread swirled in the air, mingling with the chatter of vendors and the hum of conversations. People moved through the stands, their arms laden with produce and bouquets, but the only presence that mattered to you was Bucky’s.

He was beside you, his shoulder brushing yours every few steps, his hand gripping the bags of produce you’d insisted on buying. Every now and then, he glanced at you, flashing that crooked smile that still made your stomach flip.

“Do you really need more peaches?” he asked, his voice laced with mock exasperation as he eyed the basket you held.

“Yes,” you replied, feigning offense as you picked out two more and gently placed them into the bag. “You’ll thank me later when I make that peach cobbler you won’t stop talking about.”

He grinned, leaning down so his forehead lightly bumped yours. “Fine. Cobbler wins. But only if I get to eat it straight out of the dish.”

You laughed, nudging his arm with your elbow as you moved toward the next stall. “Only because its your housewarming gift..”

“You're the best” he murmured, his voice warm, before placing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

At the flower stand, the vibrant colors caught your eye. Bouquets of sunflowers, daisies, and tulips spilled across the table in a wild display of life. You reached out, letting your fingertips brush the soft petals of a sunflower as you admired its brightness.

You didn’t notice when Bucky stepped away, too absorbed in the moment. But when he returned, you turned to find him holding a small bundle of daisies, their white and yellow blooms bright against his dark shirt.

“For you,” he said softly, his voice low, almost shy.

The gesture made your heart ache, the simplicity of it filling you with warmth. You took the daisies, your fingers grazing his as you did. “You’re getting really good at this boyfriend thing,” you said, your smile teasing but sincere.

He smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Just trying to keep my girl happy.”

Your heart stuttered at his words, and you looked away, pretending to study the flowers so he wouldn’t see the way your cheeks burned. “You’re doing a pretty good job,” you admitted quietly, more to yourself than to him.

At the next stand, baskets of apples were piled high, their shiny red skins gleaming in the sunlight. You picked one up, turning it over in your hand. “What do you think?” you asked, holding it up for Bucky’s opinion.

He leaned closer, pretending to inspect it with exaggerated seriousness. “I think it’s an apple.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

He grinned, grabbing an apple and tossing it into the bag. “Fine. You pick the apples, and I’ll carry them. That’s the deal.”

“Deal,” you said, sticking your hand out dramatically for a handshake.

Instead of shaking your hand, he pulled you closer by the wrist, his hand settling lightly on your waist. His thumb brushed against your side absentmindedly, the touch sending a spark through you. It was such a small thing, but it rooted you to the moment—a quiet reminder of how far you’d both come. You couldn't believe this was the same stand you stood at 3 and a half years ago watching Bucky breaknyour heart and yet here you were now.

By the time you’d finished making your rounds, your bags were full, and so was your heart. You both found a spot on a nearby bench, the wooden surface warmed by the sun. Bucky set the bags down at his feet and pulled out a basket of strawberries you’d picked up earlier.

“Fresh strawberries,” he said, plucking one from the pile. “Can’t beat this.”

You reached for one, but he held it just out of your reach, grinning mischievously.

“Bucky,” you laughed, leaning forward to grab it.

“What’s the magic word?” he teased, his voice playful.

You narrowed your eyes, your hand hovering. “Please.”

He finally let you take it, laughing as you popped the strawberry into your mouth. “Gotta keep you on your toes,” he said with a wink, leaning back against the bench.

The moment was so simple, so easy, and yet it felt monumental. His arm draped over the back of the bench, his fingers brushing your shoulder absentmindedly. His other hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours like it was second nature.

The world felt quiet. Peaceful.

“Are you happy?” Bucky’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he broke the comfortable silence. His tone was so quiet that it almost got lost in the sounds of the world around you, the distant murmur of conversations, the occasional rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. But you heard it. You always heard him.

You turned to look at him, your chest tightening at the way he was watching you. His blue eyes, soft and searching, held a depth that made your heart ache in the best way. It wasn’t just a casual question. It was something deeper, something raw. Like he needed to hear it, needed to know that he was doing enough, that this, what you were building together was enough.

“Yeah,” you said honestly, your voice steady but tender. “I am.”

For a second, Bucky didn’t move. He just stared at you, like he was trying to memorize the way you looked at him, the way you said it. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a small, warm smile, the kind that reached his eyes and softened the sharp edges of his features.

His thumb brushed against the back of your hand in slow, deliberate circles, a quiet gesture that said everything he couldn’t put into words. “Good,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because I’ve never been happier.”

The sincerity in his words wrapped around you like a blanket, filling every crack you hadn’t even realized was still there. It wasn’t loud or grandiose. It was simple, honest, and real.

You leaned into his side, letting your head rest against his shoulder. His arm tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, it was all so familiar, yet so new. It felt like home, but a version of home you’d never known you needed until now.

This was different. This was real. This was everything you’d both fought for.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them.

You felt him stiffen slightly, his breathing hitching as the weight of your words hung in the air. His arm around you loosened just enough for him to pull back and look at you fully, his expression a mix of disbelief and something else, something vulnerable and raw.

“You do?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly as if he didn’t dare believe it.

You met his gaze, your eyes soft but unwavering. “I always have,” you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. “And I never stopped.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, but not in a bad way. It was full of everything unsaid, everything you’d both held back for so long. And then you saw it, the way his eyes watered, the way his lips parted like he was trying to find the words but couldn’t.

You reached up, your thumb gently brushing away the tear that slipped down his cheek. “Hey,” you murmured, your voice soft and teasing despite the lump in your throat.

“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice so low it almost broke. His hand came up to cup your face, his touch gentle, reverent, like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. “So much.”

You smiled through your own tears, your chest aching with a kind of joy you hadn’t thought you’d ever feel again. “Yeah, I know,” you said softly, your tone teasing but warm.

A shaky laugh escaped him, the sound raw and full of disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the moment. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath warm and shaky. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just breathed each other in, the world around you fading into nothing.

“I never deserved you,” he said finally, his voice trembling with emotion. “Still don’t.”

His words hit you square in the chest, and you felt your throat tighten. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hand still resting on his cheek. His blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, his vulnerability laid bare in a way that made your heart ache.

“Bucky,” you said softly, shaking your head. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he insisted, his voice breaking. “You gave me everything, and all I ever did was hurt you. And even now, after everything, you’re still here. I don’t know why, but…” His voice trailed off, and he let out a shaky breath. “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be the man you deserve.”

You felt your chest tighten even further, a lump rising in your throat as his words washed over you. You cupped his face in both hands now, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You don’t have to spend the rest of your life proving anything to me,” you said firmly, your voice trembling. “You’re already enough, Bucky. You always have been, even before.”

His lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, he just stared at you, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you gently, like you were something fragile and precious.

“Do you really mean that?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. “Every word,” you whispered. “I don’t care about the past anymore. All that matters is this. Us. Right here, right now.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw the walls he’d spent so many years building start to crumble. He let out a shaky laugh, leaning into your touch. “God, I love you,” he murmured. “I don’t even know if I can say it enough to make up for all the times I didn’t.”

“You just did,” you said with a soft smile, leaning in until your lips brushed his.

The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with a quiet kind of intensity that made your heart feel like it might burst. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear the thought of any distance between you.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together again, your breaths mingling in the quiet space between you.

It wasn’t about wrong timing or unfinished promises—it was just you and him, finally in step, finally ready. Right person, right time, and this time, you both got it right.

[alchemistc]

Dipping my foot in the mpreg pool to give you all:

They used a condom every time. Even after they'd gone to get tested, it was a fling for both of them, and it wasn't supposed to mean a damn thing.

Only Buck's three months along and Jason won't answer his calls.

Four months, and Cap sits him down and tells him at six he's gonna have to accept being man behind.

Five, and he runs into Jason at the supermarket and tells him he needs his family history. Jason looks spooked, but he overnights it to Buck's loft a week and a half later and Buck sends him a text letting him know he's off the hook.

Jason blocks his number.

Six, and Buck's back to stress baking, just at the firehouse now. He's not allowed to clean much, there aren't a lot of chemicals that are safe, and the probies from B shift bitch about it but they're not carrying a fucking bowling ball around.

At seven, Tommy rounds a corner with his face tipped behind him on a laugh and nearly runs smack into Buck.

When he turns back around he stops dead. Buck can see him doing the math, but even if he was ready to pop it wouldn't quite add up.

He saw Tommy on a call before he started showing and it was the most cordial interaction he's ever had with another firefighter.

---

They say hi. Tommy introduces him to his friend Henry. Buck gestures like he's got bigger plans than going home and eating a pint and a half of ice cream. They say goodbye.

---

Tommy calls him an hour later and asks if he can stop by.

---

"So he's just... not going to be involved?"

"He's twenty-five and a terrible person, so no. It was a fling. The sex was hot."

Tommy grimaces. "Do you need anything?"

"You got a spare bladder?"

---

At eight and a half they put Buck on bed rest and he throws an absolute fit about it. Eddie spends three days watching him furiously clean the loft with the natural shit he'd bought the day he saw those two lines. Hen threatens to bring Mara over to sit on him. Maddie listens to him rant for an hour and then brings him peanut butter banana toast with pickles in bed.

Tommy drops by with his massage gun and swears up and down he actually consulted an OB about which muscles it was safe to use on.

"How do you know an OB?"

Tommy looks shifty. "Do you want me to stay?" He ignores Buck's goggle eyes. Nods his head decisively. "I should stay."

---

Tommy camps out on his couch for two and a half weeks and already has the go-bag in his hands by the time Buck gets down the stairs.

Buck asks him if he wants to be in the room and despite the panicked look in his eyes, Tommy says yes.

---

"They asked me why I wasn't listed on the birth certificate," Tommy hisses, little baby Buckley dwarfed in his arms. He's been staring at her button nose for half an hour now, and Buck keeps trying to remind himself that this isn't permanent.

"What did you say?" Buck asks, genuinely curious.

Tommy's gaze is sad when it meets Buck's. "I didn't."

Like he can't quite help himself, he reaches a free hand in and boops her nose. She's out, though. She likes the sound of Tommy's voice.

Buck sighs. "She recognized you immediately." He's read the books. A million and two of them. Babies know the people that are around, the people that are close.

Amelia knows Tommy.

"It's not just me anymore, Tommy," he intones, and Tommy turns back up to look at him. Startled. Hopeful.

"I've been babyproofing my house like a lunatic for two months," he whispers, and Buck reaches out to rub a hand over the thin skin of Amelia's forehead before he catches Tommy's fingers in his own.

[selfloverrrrrr]

Can you do a yan megumi where he blackmails her and babytraps her but the higher ups wont do anything since she’s carrying the next heir of the zenin clan anyway 🥰

I loved your request 💖... I hope you gonna like it. I'm gonna do every request one by one. So keep giving me your requests ❤️

_________________________________________

Accept it ~

Warning: smut, heavy smut, noncon, unprotected sex, yandere, teasing .....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

I was a first year student in jujutsu high. I had friends there. Nobara, Megumi and Yuji. We were like best friends. Life felt good to be with them.

Megumi Fushiguro had a great obsession with me. But never let anyone know that. Not even me. Who knew that he was so obsessed that he would kill a guy who was being friendly with me. So we were on a coffee shop one day. We mean all of us. There was a guy at the counter who talked with me a bit nicely. He was just talking with me normally. Next morning we saw his dead body on the news. Nobody found out who killed him. But who knew that was Megumi.

That guy wasn't only one whom Megumi was jealous of. There was a guy Megumi was jealous of the most. It was his own friend Yuji. One day we were at the cafeteria talking with each other when suddenly pulled my rubber band from my hair. "Catch me if you can" Yuji said and started running. "Yuji I swear to god!!!" I run behind him. We were fighting for that rubber band. "Doesn't they look good together?" Nobara asked. Megumi didn't replied. He just glared at us. 'good? Who does think that they look good together????!!!! She isn't for him!' he thought to himself.

One evening I was getting ready to go out when I heard someone opened the door. It was Megumi. He closed the door. "Oh ....hey, Megumi" I said and again looked at the mirror and started fixing my hair. "Hey. You going somewhere?" He asked. "Yeah. Going out..." I said. "With?" He asked. I looked at him "with Yuji. He asked me if I was free today so we can go out. I didn't said him anything tho. He doesn't even know that I'm going and getting ready" I said with a laugh. Megumi didn't said anything he just glared at me from behind. "No you're not" he spoke suddenly. "What?" I asked confusingly. "You are not going out with him" he said. "Why?" I asked. "Because I'm telling you so" he said dead seriously. "Look Megumi it's already getting late we can do this joking thing after I came home...ok?" I said and started walking towards the door. But he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him. "I said you're not going out with him" he said with grinded teeth. " Megumi, let go off me.... you're hurting me!!!!" I said. "I said YOU ARE NOT GOING OUT WITH YUJI" he screamed this time. "I'm going out with him and you can't tell me what to do or not!" I replied him. He nooded in response and pushed me away and went towards the door and locked it.

" so... you're not taking it in the friendly way right???" He said while walking towards me. "What kind of joke is this now!!??" I said. He was already too close to me. I was backing up. My legs touched the end of the bed. "Do I look like I'm joking?" He said grabbing my chin.

There was no where to back away now. We both fall on the bed. He was still grabbing my chin with his one hand and supporting himself on the bed with the other hand. "Get away from me!" I pushed him. " I SAID YOU ARE NOT GOING OUT WITH YUJI!!!" He grabbed my wrist and pinned on the bed. "When I'm telling you something you something you should listen to me instead of being a bitch" he said with grinded teeth. I couldn't even believe that Megumi can talk like that. I tried to loose my hand. "Still being a bitch,huh?" He said. The next I felt his hand on my thigh getting upwards. Then I understand he was taking off my dress. "What the fuc-" I was about to scream but he placed a hand on my mouth.

He threw the dress on the floor. I was struggling under him, trying to push him away but nothing effected him. Fear grabbed me by my neck. He started crawling towards me. " M-megumi stop" I said. He didn't replied. I tried to get off from the bed but he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me. " Would you ever stop being a bitch?" He said. " Megumi please stop" I begged but he crashed his lips on mine. Kissing me roughly. Making me breathless.

I tried to stop him but my strength was nothing for him. He took off my bra. I was just left in my panties. Megumi started licking on my nipple. He was being a tease. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I scremed so loudly.

When he was done playing with my nipples and boobs he got up and started taking off my panties. " Megumi please...." I begged again. "Shhh... Your pussy is telling me to continue~" he said with his smirk. He bring his face close to my pussy and licked it.

He took off his clothes. His huge length was out now. My eyes widened at his length. It was too long and too thick. I knew it wasn't gonna fit. I tried to get off from the bed but he grabbed my leg and pulled me again in that place. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. " Megumi Megumi Megumi.... please no .... M-megumi please no... I'm begging you!!!" I begged him. "Where's that bitch now?????" he screamed and tears started falling from my eyes.

Megumi pushed his whole length in one slide and I scremed with pain. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was screming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thursting getting faster and harder. "This .... This is mine.... I wouldn't.... I wouldn't let Yuji take it from me!!!!" He said between moans. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot make my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips.

He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside... Megumi please" I begged him. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out and whispered in my ear "now let's see how Yuji's gonna accept you after knowing you're carrying my child".

_________________________

The next morning

_________________________

When I woke up I slowly get off from my bed because Megumi was still there sleeping beside me. I quickly wore some clothes and went to the jujutsu high. I knew Yuji, Nobara and Gojo sensei were out this morning for a mission. So I directly went to the higher ups. I told them everything. Everything happened with me, everything he did with me. "Does that mean you're carrying his child now?" They asked me. I nooded. They kept silent. I was shocked. "What?... you're not gonna help me???" I asked. "Look... We know what happened is bad but just listen to us for one time... Your child is gonna be the next heir of zenin clan.... you should accept it... it isn't hurting anyone!" They said. "So you are not gonna help me right?.... Fine! Let Gojo sensei return. He's the only one who will help me!" I said and rushed out of the room. Suddenly bumped into someone. I looked up and my breath stopped. None other than Megumi himself smirking at me. He grabbed my shoulder and pinned me on a nearby wall. "Listen closely. The higher ups not gonna help you.... And Gojo? You know he's gonna believe me instead of you... What if I tell him that it was you who invited me in your room and all those were your plan??? Everyone will see you as a slut. Isn't it better to accept you are mine?" He whispered in my ear.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💗💗👀👀

[ncsdlr]

Stab Me Then Tell Me That You Love Me

- Kinktober Day 3 -

Ghostface!Amber Freeman x CiP!Reader

!!TW!! Blood & Stabbing

-------------------

Chad Meeks

Mindy Meeks

Liv McKenzie

Wes Hicks

Richie Kirsch

Sam Carpenter

Tara Carpenter

Those were the people that over the years you'd grown to love. Amber would be on that list, too. If only her mind wasn't riddled with kill kill kill that faithful night.

And now, you find yourself tied to a wooden chair in a dark room, unable to even grieve your losses. You lost your friends- family. All to one person. Amber fucking Freeman.

To think you'd been in love with her this whole time. Disgusting. How could you have ever fallen in love with a woman so vile. Amber Freeman is a monster, and you hate her with all your heart for killing your friends.

You jolt in your seat as you hear something slam in the room you're being kept in. The slam was hen followed by heavy footsteps, and with how long you've been kept here, the only one who ever came for ou was one person.

And you had a hunch on who that was. The only question now is why.

"Enjoy your stay here yet, baby?" You sucked in a breath at the sweet sound of her voice, tilting your head back as 'i knew it' rings in your head.

"Fuck," you whimpered. "You're insane, Amber. Let me the fuck go."

You flinch as cold hands run over your thighs, "Not can do, baby. Not until you give me what I want."

Amber then reached for your blindfold, pulling it off your head. The sudden brightness of the room burns your eyes, squinting as the light meets you.

"Fuck you," you spat, directing your glare to Amber as you find her crouched before you.

Amber smirks, "you can try, darling."

****

"Fuck. Fuck you! You're a fucking monster!" You screamed as Amber stabbed her knife into your thigh, leaving it there as she circled you like a predator. It was a burning pain, barely tolerable and yet, here you were feeling more than just pain

You'd been stripped of your clothing, leaving you exposed and vulnerable for Amber to take. You had little knicks from Amber having dragged her knife lightly across your skin. You were bleeding from more places than you can count. Honestly, you thought you'd passed out by now.

Amber suddenly held the back of your head by your hair as she rasped in your ear, "You better remember that I'm the monster you fell in love with. I'm the monster you still love."

Then, she released you. It was merely a show of power, making it apparent to you that you were on the losing side of the game. Amber was rough with you, but she paired her strong touch with a gentle voice, cooing at you here and there.

And then she giggled. The fucking bitch giggled. It was condescending in a way. It made you feel entirely powerless. She was clearly toying ith your mind, and right you weren't sure whether you wanted clarity or to just get the fuck out of here.

"What do you want, Amber? Why are you doing this?" you breathlessly asked.

Amber round your chair and sat in your lap, making sure to avoid the knife in your thigh, causing you to suck in a breath as the stinging pain flared again, your eyes very full of rage as you looked at her, "Baby, I'm doing this for you," she offered. "I'm doing this for us."

Then Amber stood from your lap, walking to somewhere behind you, and then you heard the sharpening of knives. Was this woman planning on turning you into a pin cushion??

When Aber reached you again, she held scissors in her hand, looking just about ready to stab you again. Amber's free hand reached for the knife in your thigh, pulling it out carelessly, "Thanks for holding this for me."

You screamed, your thigh now throbbing causing the blood to pour out of you in small barely noticeable pumps. "I'm gonna fucking kill you when I get out of here," you gritted through your teeth.

Amber tilted her, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked at you, "And you will get out of here, baby...but I don't think you're gonna kill me."

With that, Amber took her scissors to the rope that held you down. You looked at her questioningly, but a spark of hope lit up in you. This was your chance. You could get free, and run from Amber and never see her again.

So when Amber finally cut the ties around your feet, you leaped at her, tackling her back against the wall with your hands around her throat. Amber gasped, her hands scratching at your wrists in an attempt to make you let her go.

"Damn, you're kinky, huh?" Amber choked out.

Your anger flared, your hands tightening around Amber's neck noticeably, "Shut the fuck up, bitch! You killed our fucking friends- you killed my friends!"

Amber smirked, scaring you all the more, "Come on," she choked out, then suddenly you were the one gasping for air as Amber finally finds her strength and pushes you off of her.

As Amber next spoke, you staggered on your feet, "I did this, so you could have me all to yourself." Amber came close to you, gripping you lightly by your waist to stabilize you before wrapping her arms over your shoulders, looking up at you with big shiny eyes, "Take me like you've wanted to this whole time. I'm yours now, baby."

What scared you in that moment was how tightly you were gripping Amber's waist. It was a possessive grip, your fingertips digging into her flesh. "You're in no place to make demands, whore. I'm in control now."

suddenly, you turned Amber around and pushed her forward, trapping her body against the wall once more. You grind yourself against her ass, feeling how your member hardens almost instantly at the sensations.

Amber mewls, hiding her scrunched face against the wall as she leans her forehead against it. She wanted it so bad. Amber pressed her ass back against yours, delusionally hoping that you'd somehow push into her if she just kept going.

You gripped your cock with one hand, lining yourself up to her soaking hole, your other hand on Amber's hip, holding her still. "You want this?" you asked.

Immediately, Amber nodded eagerly, "Yes, yes, please."

With that, you pushed Amber to the floor, her knees thumping against it as you did. You positioned yourself behind her and lined yourself up to her dripping pussy. Then suddenly, Amber was moaning from being so filled.

Amber could feel every vein on your cock. She could feel everything you gave her, and she made sure to take it well and put on a show for you. With one hand, Amber reached down to her pussy and vigorously rubbed at her clit.

Amber looked over her shoulder and parted her lips, feigning a pout at you. But that only seemed to fuel your rage more. You grabbed a handful of Amber's hair, pulling with a strong grip before, with your free hand, you slapped at her ass sharply.

"You're a fucking slut," you pushed Amber's hand away from her clit, replacing them with your own. "Kidnapping me just to get fucked."

You enunciated your words with hard thrusts, pounding into Amber's pussy mercilessly. The warmth of Amber's pussy was overwhelming. The way she just wrapped around seemed so perfect. This was definitely better than you imagined.

You didn't notice it in the moment, but Amber surely did. Your thrusts had grown stronger, reaching deeper depths of her wet cunt. It made Amber wail, made her even more wet. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she lost control over her senses.

"My god- Y/N...feels so good.." She whimpered. And then you leaned down close to her ear and rasped, "I know."

****

"Shit, Y/N," Amber hissed as the tip of her knife dragged down the length of her thigh, her blood trickling down the length of the cut you'd ripped into her skin.

You looked into Amber's eyes as she watched your hand. You then moved your knife off her thigh, suddenly pointing it at her neck, pressing down strongly.

"What did you think, huh?" you questioned. "Did you think you could slice everyone up and not get a single scratch on you? No, my dear. that's not how this plot goes."

You slid the knife off her throat, nicking her unmarred skin there. You savored the hiss Amber let slip past her lips, throwing a wink her way as you leaned down to drag your tongue along the long cut you'd made on her thigh.

The heat of your mouth paired with the wetness of your tongue made a sharp sting pierce through her. Then suddenly, you plunged Amber's knife into her hip, savoring the grunt-y scream she let out.

You chuckled at her reaction, a sinister grin settling on your face. When the pain somewhat subsided for Amber, she chuckled right back at you. And suddenly, you dove tongue first into Amber's soggy pussy the same time you pulled the knife out of her hip.

This heightened Amber's pain and pleasure, causing her to let out the most pornographic moan you've ever heard anyone let out. You swirled your tongue around her clit before sucking it into your mouth, tasting the sweetness of her leaking core.

"Oh, my god, Y/N, you're making me feel so good!" With one hand, Ambers combed her fingers through your hair, holding you closer to her pussy. With her free hand, Amber applied pressure to the wound you'd embedded into her, groaning as lightheadedness reached her.

"Oh, god, I'm gonna cum," Amber breathed, panting heavily as you kept sucking on her pulsing clit. "Y/N...please."

You grunted into her clit, gripping the knife in your hand tightly again. Your eyes find Amber's again as you raise the knife, preparing to plunge it into her flesh again.

As pleasure coursed through Amber's senses, her back arched and her legs tensed around your head before a scream tore through her sharply when you stabbed the knife into her shoulder. The woman shuddered as her thighs quivered, cumming on your face with a shock wave so strong it made her black out for at least two seconds before gaining consciousness again.

The pain in her shoulder, her hip, and her thigh; all combined to make the perfect mix of stinging pain and burning pleasure. Everything was more intense. It all felt like a burning flame that wouldn't die even if they'd try to put it out.

"Y/N..." she breathed heavily, "that felt so good- you made me feel so good. God, I knew I was right to give you a chance."

****

Amber was on her fifth...or maybe sixth? Neither of you were counting. It's not like Amber could count anyway. She really couldn't will her mind to take on such a responsibility when your girthy cock filled her up so perfectly to the point of insanity.

The two of you went from the floor to a wooden table in the room. You'd layed her on it quite gracelessly before starting to fuck into her again. You fucked her in a way that seemed to please you only, but god, was she loving the rough treatment.

"Shit, I...I'm gonna cum again, Y/N."

Your finger suddenly poked into the shallow knife wound in Amber's shoulder, causing her to scream out in pain, " Do I look like I fucking care, Amber- Jesus Christ, this pussy's so good."

With your other hand, you pushed your fingers into Amber's mouth, making sure to touch the back of her throat with your fingers. This made her gag, locking her lips around your fingers as she sucked your fingers in more.

"Ugh, you're such a whore, Amber." You pulled your fingers out of her mouth sharply and slapped her across the face, "Such a whore."

"Tell me," you started, "Did it feel good to kill all of our friends? Was it thrilling for you, huh?" you asked, slapping at the cut on her thigh.

Amber whimpered, reaching for your shoulders and running her hands down your arms as she took all that you gave her. It just felt so good; that was all she could think about and all she could feel.

Your cock, your skin, your hands- just you. She could just feel you. And it was driving her insane. The tightness in her lower tummy was about to snap in half. The feeling was strong like a tidal wave waiting to happen. So Amber begged.

"Please- Y/N, fuck! Will you let me cum, please, please, please!"

You coo'd, releasing Amber's neck and instead cupping her face gently, "Aww, you wanna cum? You want me to let you cum?" you asked, grabbing the knife again and holding it against Amber's neck once more.

Amber nodded immediately, ignoring the sharp knife at her throat, "Yes- Yes, please!"

"No," you spoke, "You have to make me cum first."

Amber whined as you pulled out of her sharply, dropping the knife to the ground carelessly. She then gasped as you pulled her off the table by her hair, pushing her to her knees roughly. You pressed the bulbous tip of your cock to her lips, prying her mouth open with it.

You grunted even more when Amber pursed her lips together. As you rolled your eyes, you bent over her, picking up the knife and stabbing it into her unmarred shoulder.

Amber screamed in pain, her mouth finally parting as she did. You took your chance and pushed your cock into her mouth, gripping the back of Amber's head tighter as you thrust into the back of her throat.

Amber's hands found the back of your thighs, her fingernails digging into them before they dragged up to your hips, scratching you there as she struggled to breathed. She gagged and coughed as your cock touched the very back of her throat.

She could feel the way your cum dripped in her mouth, and truthfully, it was so good. She could taste the sweetness of it as your relentless thrusts spread your cum on her tongue. Your balls lightly slapped against her chin as you continued to thrust your hips into her mouth albeit carelessly.

The burning in your tummy intensified just as the burning in Amber's throat and newly-stabbed shoulder did, too. Her clit pulsed even further as well, Amber's thighs clenching tightly together to accommodate her postponed needs.

Amber needed to cum. It almost felt like if she didnt cum soon, she'd pass away right then and there. So to aid that, Amber's hand moves to your balls, giving you calculated squeezes while her other hand worked on the base of your cock, twisting and jerking around you.

She used her eyes, too, batting her eyelashes at you as they teared up. The sight was disgusting; blood, tears, sweat, and pre-cum mixing together. It made you piston your dick deeper down her throat, and within no time at all, you held Amber's head still, pushing your cock in stronger as your cum jetted out of your straining hard-on.

Amber recoiled at the amout of cum you shot into her, gagging at the thick, white substance now dripping into her throat. God, you tasted so good, though. Like a thick sweetness mixed with just the right bit of saltiness.

You panted as you released Amber's head, the girl coming off of you heaving in gulps of air, bowing her head down as her hands remained resting on your thighs.

But you never gave her a break, did you? It's okay, though. Amber hoped that you would finally make her cum. I mean, she did what you asked her to do...

"You give the best head, Amber...I think i might just keep you," you grinned knowing Amber was too out of it to actually register what you'd said. Next she'll know, she's the one bound to a chair.

In her daze, Amber found herself on her back on the floor again, her knees pressed into her chest as you eased yourself back into her waiting and dripping pussy.

"You wanna cum?" you asked as you slowly started to thrust your hips, looking Amber right in her eyes.

Amber whimpered out a yes, her eyes, as they looked at you, dazed, looking just about ready to pass out. So, as she answered, you pistoned your hips into her, going in and out of her sloppy pussy as if being chased.

The woman let out a long moan, throwing her back as the pace you set took over her mind. At this pace, Amber was feeling everything more intensely. It was feeling good- so fucking good. She felt the curves of your cock, the throbbing of your shaft. She could feel the shape of your bulbous tip, and fuck, was it building her orgasm up.

"Just let go when you feel it, Amber." And let go she did. A long stream of orgasm spurted out of her, the feeling of it grabbing hold of her entire being as she let herself feel.

At that same moment, you let yourself cum into Amber's cunt, dumping your generous load into her velvety hole, securing the ownership you held over her.

Amber's legs further quivered at the sensations your cum pouring into her caused. With how much blood she'd already lost, it was truly a surprise to even see her still holding on like this. But I spoke too soon apparently because suddenly darkness was consuming her. It was okay though. Amber trusts that however many times she'd hurt the people around you both, you'll take care of her.

------------

A/N: if you see any mistakes in the writing that's because I'm lazy when it comes to proofreading🔪🔪

[belzinone]

// @mckeitbeautiful​ // 1 2

“ Hey, Son. I could waste your time giving you the whole laydown of how I tracked you down, but I got a proposition for you instead. “ A young, put-together woman silently slid into the seat next to him and crossed her legs, angling her near complete and undivided attention towards him. She spoke above a whisper, but with enough lowness for their conversation to be drowned by the rest of the venue. “ A recent so-called ‘anti-trafficking’ effort landed a handful of my girls in the slammer. Outside, they were making a good living on their own terms. Now, they’ve been victimized by the state and I just can’t stand for that. I’m certain you and your friend don’t stand for that either. “

Helping herself to a small sample of his order, she gauged his expression for interest. “ It’s a jailbreak, and we need a distraction. For this operation and beyond, I’m willing to share all our resources with you. Police surveillance, materials, weapons, protection, you name it. They mean that much to me. “ If she were being honest, she was a bit overwhelmed with the fresh responsibility she got herself into, and she needed allies. Leading her troupe into a coup was necessary, and they couldn’t have their prior Madame continue to lead them. What she didn’t expect was to find herself replacing her. The Wallflowers were now under new management.

“ So, what do you say? “ she asked, leaning into her fist to flash him the mark of her organization, infamous amongst the criminal underbelly.

[dweetwise]

[Ace x David] Behind Closed Doors

For @frivolousace and their favorite rarepair <3 Rating: G Word count: 2.1k ao3 link

"Come on! Truth or dare?"

At what sounded like Nea's impatient voice, Ace looked up from his game of solitaire.

Some of the younger survivors had formed a circle around the fire. Their night's entertainment of choice appeared to be the simple—and campfire favorite—game of truth or dare.

"The last time we played you made me eat a slug," Meg said. "So definitely truth."

"Okay." Nea smirked. "What happened to that purple flashlight you stole from me? Because I know for a fact the killer didn't have Franklin's."

"Wait, she stole one from you too!?" Steve exclaimed.

"Well yours was a victim of an item-camping Bubba," Meg told Steve. Then she smiled sheepishly. "Nea's I went out running with and dropped in the swamp."

"You what!?" Nea screeched.

"It was an accident!"

The group chuckled at the girls' bickering while Laurie patted a fuming Nea on the shoulder.

Ace smiled at his friends having fun. It was times like these that were his favorite: with the day's trials over and done with and an air of easy camaraderie settling over the survivor camp.

It was a shame that Ace had been banned from the majority of games after numerous accusations of both cheating and extravagant lies. But at least he could enjoy laughing at the others' expense as truth or dare inevitably got out of hand.

Because it always did.

"C'mon, Red, your turn to ask," Quentin said.

"Hmmm…" Meg's eyes scanned the group. "David! Truth or dare?"

David, who hadn't even looked to want any part of the game, merely perked up with an amused smirk. "What the hell. Truth."

Meg's smile was full of mischief. "Fuck, marry, kill. Free choice, survivors and killers!"

"Really? That the best you got?" David grinned.

Ace huffed out a quiet chuckle. It was amazing how far David had come. Only a year ago, he would have refused to even participate in games like these—claiming they were too girly and childish, in not so polite terms—or at the very least thrown a fit after a question like that, punching a tree and oozing toxic masculinity.

"Plenty o' killers I'd wanna off, but I think we all know which one I'd pick given the choice," David huffed.

"Do they happen to have a white mask and go hmm, hmm hmm—" Kate started humming the Huntress' lullaby with eerie precision.

"Ugh, stop!" Feng smacked Kate's arm. "I went against that bitch twice today! If I hear one more second of that fucking song…"

Kate smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Okay, okay," Meg said. "Kill Huntress. So who'd you fuck?"

A dozen pairs of curious eyes were aimed at David and Ace couldn't help but roll his own under the brim of his cap. 

This was another new thing. After David had come out to them—and mellowed out in the process, since he no longer had to keep up the appearance of some ridiculous macho man—the survivors had become very interested in who David was interested in. Even though David clearly wasn't ready to tell them.

That didn't stop them from trying to dig for crumbs in the form of silly party games, apparently.

David just shrugged. "Maybe Triangle Head."

"What!?" Meg yelled while many others erupted into laughs.

"Pyramid Head is a monster! A killer!" Laurie hissed, clearly scandalized.

"Dat ass, though," Nea commented.

"He's a prick, but he's hot," David said. "Strong, too, if he can lug that sword around—"

"Ugh, spare me, please." Meg scrunched her nose. "So, for the last one…?"

"Hmm," David said. "I'd probably marry…"

He paused for dramatic effect, pretending to mull over the answer.

The atmosphere in the whole camp was now one of anticipation; everyone far from subtle in their nosiness of their friend's love life. Ace could even spot the normally polite Claudette eagerly leaning forward in her seat.

"Don't get your hopes up, he's just gonna give you a troll answer again," Quentin commented.

Ace smirked to himself. He had a pretty good idea of who David had his eye on, but then again, he hadn't exactly played fair to figure it out. 

Still, Quentin was right; there was no way David was admitting his interest in front of so many people—

"Ace," David said, and Ace's world screeched to a halt.

Thirty heads whipped around to look at Ace, and the gambler only hoped that nobody noticed how it took him a second to put on his patented smirk instead of the slack-jawed staring that David's simple confession had reduced him to.

Ace raised an eyebrow, cursing himself for not having his sunglasses on hand. "That so, King?"

"Uh." Yui grimaced and turned to David. "Are you sure about that?"

"Told you. Troll answer," Quentin said.

David merely grinned and offered a one-shoulder shrug.

"I can see a Vegas wedding," David said. "Ace'd make a nice trophy husband, yeah?"

"If you mean 'gamble away all your shared assets as soon as you signed the papers,' maybe," Zarina huffed.

Ace saw the twitch in David's hands; a reflex from years of resorting to fighting at the first sign of offense. But now, the ex-brawler just took a deliberate breath before splaying his fingers back to his sides.

…And people were still staring at Ace, watching him watching David.

Ace leered at David, giving him an exaggerated wink. "You had me at Vegas, handsome."

"Gross," Meg commented. She was clearly disappointed at not getting the gossip she wanted.

"Come on!" Feng yelled at the group, snapping her fingers obnoxiously. "We're playing a game, not a fucking daddy dating sim!"

And Ace had never been as glad for the girl's impatience as when David predictably picked Feng as his target and then dared her to do a handstand.

Fortunately, in the midst of laughter, Feng falling on her ass, and Nea showing off how to do a proper handstand, nobody noticed that Ace was still left reeling by David's confession.

—---

After the game, Ace found David at his usual spot in the woods—recognizable by the dozen trees that had been cracked and dented by angry fists during the years.

But now, David was only sitting at the root of one tree, leaning against the bark and looking out over the forest in thought.

"Knew I'd find you here," Ace said, making his presence known.

Immediately, the pensive expression on David's face was replaced by his bright grin. "Hey, luv."

The stupid little nickname didn't normally make Ace blush, but after today, he felt his ears heating up.

"Hey yourself," Ace said, going to sit down next to the man.

But David had other ideas, grabbing Ace by his hip and manhandling him into his lap instead.

"Oof," Ace protested the treatment and adjusted his hat. "Careful, pumpkin pie, these old bones aren't what they used to be."

David snorted and shot up an unamused look to where Ace was straddling him. "When we first met, you said you were thirty."

"And you laughed in my face and said in yer dreams, pops," Ace shot back.

David winced; it was far from the first time he'd been embarrassed by his past behavior.

"But I was just happy I got you to laugh, so win-win," Ace said.

He got a hesitant smile in return. David's hand, scarred and callused from a life as a fighter, cupped Ace's cheek oh so gently, before his fingers trailed up to—

Yoink Ace's hat from his head and throw it into the depths of the forest.

"Hey,'' Ace protested. "I liked that cap."

"And I wanna see your pretty face." David was smirking way too smugly. "Dunno why you insist on hiding it from me."

"God, you are such a sap." Ace grinned. "The others would never believe me, if I tried to tell them you just want to snuggle and tell me cheesy one-liners 24/7."

"That sounds like a them problem," David sassed.

And then he shut up Ace's would-be comeback with what Ace imagined was called a thorough snogging.

David kissed much like he fought: wholeheartedly and with his entire body. Chapped lips stole the breath from Ace's mouth while strong arms pulled him closer and caressed over his back. Even David's legs shifted under Ace, like every part of him yearned to be as close to Ace as humanly possible.

And Ace tried to give back as good as he got. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, running clever hands over David's shoulders and up his neck, earning a bone-deep, satisfied moan for his efforts.

When they pulled apart, Ace was more than a little out of breath. And David was still smirking infuriatingly, like getting Ace hot under the collar had been some self-issued challenge and David had won.

But Ace rarely went down without a fight.

"So, Pyramid Head, huh?" Ace asked.

It was satisfying to see the cocky smirk fall as David groaned in protest and his head slumped to rest on Ace's shoulder.

"Not like I could pick you twice," David grumbled. "Dumb fuckin' rules. Had to come up with somethin'."

Ah; David King, fiercely loyal even during hypothetical, immature party games.

"You're getting pretty good at bullshitting." Ace grinned. "Wonder where you learned that from."

David chuckled and pulled Ace even closer into his arms.

"And… yer not mad?" David asked.

"About a couple tiny white lies to get our friends off your back? Do you know me?"

David huffed. "You know what I mean."

"Well, you might have gotten them to speculate whether you were really kidding about being into me, so maybe not the best move if you didn't want them to find out about us." Ace shrugged. "But it's all the same to me. If our friends finally figure out that we've been doing this for the last… what, two years?"

"A year and ten months," David immediately replied. "Well—earth years. Fuck knows how long it's been in here. Still haven't figured out the equations."

Sometimes Ace forgot just how goddamn smart David was. Ace wasn't shy to admit he'd judged a book by its well-defined, muscled cover. But after his little character reform, David had been helping out Adam—and the other people lightyears smarter than Ace—in figuring out the ins and outs of the realm.

"Right,'' Ace said. "In any case, it's still a little embarrassing for the others to not have figured it out. Well, I know I'm the master of subterfuge, but you? I mean, marriage?" Ace laughed. "Maybe it was just absurd enough that they knew you were kidding."

David didn't laugh with Ace at the shared joke. On the contrary, David was frowning.

"Uh," Ace said. "David?"

"I wasn't kidding," David said. "If I got the chance to, I'd marry ya in a heartbeat."

Ace froze. He'd probably have fallen off David's lap unless the ridiculously defined biceps weren't there to balance him.

"Ha-ha, very funny." Ace's grin was shaky. "You're getting a little too good at that bullshitting."

"'m serious," David said. "I'm in this for the long haul. I love you, and I wanna marry you someday. I'd do it now, if you asked me to."

Ace fidgeted and felt himself flush. He cursed the lack of hat to hide behind, because this was… Ace didn't do this, these earnest confessions and plans for the future—hell, he'd never even been able to say those three little words back to David. Yet here David was, already talking about tying the knot.

"But I know ya need time," David said, smiling much too happily considering Ace's emotional constipation. "Lucky for me, time's all we've got in here."

He leaned in, rough fingers rubbing gentle circles over the stubble on Ace's jawline, leaning in to murmur against Ace's ear.

"Take all the time you need, luv."

Ace almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. That was David King for you; stubborn, loudmouth, loyal to a fault…

And hopeless romantic, even when it came it washed-up gamblers with commitment issues.

Ace smirked. "Kiss me like that fifty more times and I'll see what I can do."

And David threw his head back and laughed, a deep bellow that had to echo all the way to the shared campfire, looking so damn happy that it made Ace's chest feel tight and butterflies dance in his gut.

And, then David's mouth was on Ace's again and his goddamn gentle hands were caressing Ace like he was something precious. Ace felt like he was falling, tumbling into something unknown and maybe not as scary as he'd always feared. 

One day, he'd be able to say it back. For now, Ace only smiled and melted into the kiss, settling in for a cozy night safe in David's arms.

[helloalycia]

a bitch [one] // leigh shaw

summary: you're used to leigh's constant mood swings and unpredictability, but didn't expect she'd ever do something to hurt you like she did.

warning/s: cheating

author's note: an angsty leigh shaw imagine was requested, so here we are! there's one more part to this so enjoy 😊

part two | masterlist | wattpad

Leigh Shaw could be a very unpredictable woman.

Ever since the unfortunate death of her husband, Matt, she'd become very erratic. It was hard to remember what she was like before he died, but then she'd flash me a smile and say something adorable and I remembered. Other times though, she could be as explosive as they came. If you ever got swept up in her mood swings, you'd be screwed.

Despite this, I remained by her side. That's what best friends did. Even when she yelled at me or gave me the cold shoulder or treated me like dirt, I stayed because I knew that was what she needed.

One time, a few months after Matt's death, I was stopping by to see how she was. A prime example of the cold effect she could have on people.

I raised my hand to knock, but the door suddenly swung open, revealing a peeved Jules and a pissed Leigh further behind her in the hallway.

"Hey," I greeted her sister with a smile, but she moved past me moodily. I glanced at Leigh before catching Jules' arm, stopping her. "What happened?"

Jules smiled bitterly. "You know, you should reconsider where you put your care, Y/N. Some people just aren't worth it."

At that last part, she glared over my shoulder, no doubt at Leigh. I turned to look at Leigh, who merely stuck a middle finger up at her sister before storming towards to the kitchen.

"What a bitch," Jules mumbled, making me wince because it was such a horrible word.

Jules shook me off before marching to her car to leave. I sighed and turned around to let myself in to their house. Closing the door behind me, I followed after Leigh and found her making toast in the kitchen angrily.

"Hey," I began softly, not wanting to give her another reason to get pissed off. Sitting on a stool at the island, I asked, "What happened?"

She forced a smile as she grabbed her toast from the toaster and dropped it on a plate. "My sister can't respect my space is all."

I pursed my lips awkwardly, watching as she grabbed butter from the fridge. Noticing my silence, she glanced up at me through her eyelashes.

"What?" she deadpanned, pausing from her actions.

"I don't think Jules is trying to upset you," I began, knowing I'd probably regret it. "I'm sure she understands you want space, but she loves you. And when you see someone you love hurting, you feel like you have to do something."

A sour smile broke out on her face as she scoffed. "Wow. Could you have your head stuck any further up Jules' arse?"

"Leigh, that's not what I'm–"

"What the hell are you even doing here?" she snapped. "I didn't invite you, Y/N."

Tensing my jaw, I refrained from getting annoyed. "Believe it or not, I actually wanted to check on you."

She curled her lips into a frown. "Well, I'm fine."

As if to prove that she was, she continued to butter her toast, but when she set her knife down, it slipped off the edge of the table and clattered to the floor. Frustrated, she slammed a fist on the countertop.

"It's okay, I'll–"

"Just get out," she cut me off when I was making a move to help her. I paused, wondering if she meant it, then her deadly green glare settled on my face. "Leave."

Sighing with defeat, I nodded and wordlessly left.

—

Sometimes Leigh wouldn't apologise. She'd act like nothing had happened and we'd move on. Other times, she actually would, surprisingly recognising that she'd done something wrong.

There was this one time when I'd invited her over for the evening to eat dinner and watch some films. The dinner went perfectly fine – we talked, we laughed, we spent time together – but then when we settled in the living room to watch a film, things started to unravel.

I can't remember exactly what she'd said. One second we were choosing a film on Netflix, then she was trying to make plans with me on the weekend. Unfortunately, I already had plans with my girlfriend, Alex, and Leigh didn't seem to like this. She'd made a comment under her breath and though I don't remember it specifically, I knew it wasn't polite.

Before I knew it, we were screaming at each other, arguing over the dumbest things. It started off being about my girlfriend and then the most unrelated stuff was being brought up on both of our ends. Sometimes she could be so aggravating, managing to rile me up and bring the worst out in me. The argument lasted a few minutes before she left, leaving me seething and full of hurt.

It was the following day at work when she came to see me next. I owned a café a few doors down from her mother's dance studio and was working a shift when her sister came through the front door.

I smiled at her when she approached the counter dressed in gym gear, her usual getup when at work with her family.

"Hey, how're you doing, Jules?" I asked.

"I'm good," she greeted with a smile, before it faded. "Just a warning, Y/N, Leigh is incoming in one minute. She wants to apologise."

Eyes rolling with mild annoyance, I let out a sigh. As dreadful as our spat was last night, I knew I had to also apologise to her. I'd said some hurtful things that made me feel all icky inside. Going to sleep after a fight was never a nice feeling.

"I don't know how you've put up with her for this long," Jules commented, picking up a cupcake from the display. "She can be so horrible to you."

I frowned, not feeling comfortable talking badly of Leigh behind her back. "That's not fair, Jules. You know what she's going through."

Jules gave me a knowing look. "I do, but that doesn't give her a free pass to treat you like she does."

Shrugging, I busied myself with cleaning up the crumbs from Jules' cupcake and giving her a plate.

"I take it you're going to forgive her then," she stated, though she definitely knew the answer judging from her expression.

"We both said some things we shouldn't have," I tried to explain so it didn't seem like I was giving in so easily, which deep down, I definitely knew I was, but Leigh was worth it.

Jules chuckled. "Yep, you're forgiving her. Looks like it's Leigh's lucky day."

I didn't say anything as she picked up the plate, ready to take a seat at one of the tables. Just as she was about to leave, she paused thoughtfully.

"You know, if you didn't have a girlfriend already, I'd say you were whipped," she said casually.

Ignoring her words, I watched her take her a seat on one of the spare tables. She made jokes like that a lot, but the truth was that I would probably do anything for Leigh. We'd been best friends since university – that was way too long to simply throw away our friendship because she was going through a tough time. And yes, the girlfriend talk threw me off at times... by the time I'd realised I liked Leigh as more than a friend, she was engaged. And I got over it, but Jules continued with the jokes and I continued to dismiss it.

As Jules warned, Leigh entered the café and caught my eyes with a nervous smile. I returned it, just as nervous as she looked, before watching her approach the counter. She was dressed in gym gear, like her sister, but a fine layer of sweat coated her skin which made me think she may have just finished teaching a class.

"Hey," she said with a rare gentleness to her voice. Her hands rested on the counter, fumbling slightly, before she put them by her sides instead. "How are you?"

Uncomfortably, I played with a loose thread on my apron. "I've been better, not gonna lie."

She exhaled regretfully. "I want to apologise, Y/N. Last night... it wasn't fair what I did. Just snapping at you like that."

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet and avoided her eyes.

"I just get so angry sometimes," she admitted, noticing I wouldn't speak. She sounded exhausted and I looked up to see her running a hand through her hair. "I can't explain it. My anger at you wasn't about Alex or the plans, it was just me."

"It's because you're still hurting," I told her what I'd observed, shoulders relaxing. "And you're not very good at expressing that."

She shook her head, eyes drifting to the till distractedly. "I should be because I keep hurting the people I love."

My heart ached at the devastation in her voice and I put my hand out, motioning for her to take it. Thankfully, she did and I squeezed hers gently.

"Look, let's just forget it happened," I said with a small smile. "I... I didn't exactly say the nicest of things either."

She grimaced, letting go of my hand. "No, I get why you said it. It wasn't fair of me to just start on you like that. You were just defending your girlfriend... God, I can be such a bitch sometimes."

I winced at the word, it grating my ears. "That's not true, Leigh."

"It is." She nodded slowly, rolling her eyes. "Everybody thinks it. Including you."

"I don't think that," I said with creased brows, meeting her saddened eyes. "You're not a bitch. I've never once thought that."

"Really?" She raised a brow, smiling with defeat. "Not even that time when I stole your doughnuts after that fight we had two weeks ago?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Not even when I snapped at you for no reason the other day when you tried to help me write my article?"

"Not even then."

Her expression softened with guilt. "Not even when I called you a selfish jerk last night for not wanting to spend time with me even though you have a life of your own?"

I rounded the counter and stopped before her, looking between her guilt-ridden eyes. "Especially not then, Leigh."

She breathed out quietly and I pulled her in for a hug, glad when I felt her relax beneath me. Her arms clasped around my waist and I was glad we were good again.

—

It was a year later when Leigh and I eventually got together as a couple. It was a long time after I broke up with my girlfriend and it was completely unexpected.

I'd invited Leigh to be my 'date' to my mum's birthday party, since the two had gotten on so well in the past. She was happy to oblige, but as soon as we arrived, her mood changed.

I was helping collect the pizzas from the delivery guy when he started to flirt with me. At the time, I didn't even realise, but I knew that Leigh had acted different since it happened. When I finally confronted her about her sudden mood swing, she proceeded to make out with me completely unexpectedly and then admitted she was in love with me.

I'm not gonna lie, it was a good time. Since breaking up with my girlfriend, I'd been single and falling for my best friend all over again. Leigh making the first move was all I'd needed to finally share how I felt, too.

That was six months ago, and since then, we'd been going strong. Of course, there were still times when she had her mood swings and took it out on me (and literally everyone else) without realising, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I was used to it, used to her. So much that I should have trusted her even when presented with conflicting evidence.

We were at her workplace, Basically News, where she wrote columns part-time. It was a work party she'd been invited to and she'd asked me to be her date, which of course I said yes to. At the moment, we may or may not have been a little tipsy as we stood in the corner, drinking from flutes of champagne.

"Thank you again for coming here tonight as my date," Leigh said with a grin, arms laced around my neck as she held me close.

Pressing a kiss to my lips briefly, she pulled away and left my head spinning, and not just because of the alcohol.

"Any excuse to not be on the closing shift at work is good enough for me," I said playfully, resting my hands behind her waist.

She gasped. "Oh? So it wasn't me who persuaded you to come tonight?"

I pulled a face, feigning forgetfulness. "Hmm, I'm not too sure. Maybe you'll have to remind me why I agreed to come."

She bit her lip to contain her grin, eyes flickering to my lips. Leaning in, her lips met mine and I closed my eyes, enjoying the way she combed her hand through my hair and tilted my head towards her so she could get better access. She was a really good kisser and she knew the effect she had on me as I felt her smirk into it, catching her breath, before chasing down my lips and nibbling on them temptingly.

Remembering where we were, I gently pushed her back and tried to contain my smile. "Make it PG, Leigh. You're at work."

She licked her lips and began to laugh, green eyes darting between mine. "You're just so cute."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "I don't want everyone here knowing how irresistible you are or they might try to steal you away."

Her laughter filled the air, making my stomach flip at the sound.

"Though I think they may already know that because of how sexy you look tonight," I added, eyes fluttering down her body to appreciate just how well she pulled off her fitted black dress.

She raised her brows with surprise, making me mirror her expression comically.

Leaning close to my ear, she said above a whisper, "D'you wanna know something not-so-sexy?"

Her breath tickled my ear and sent shivers down my spine, making me tense up slightly. Judging from the expression on her face, she was very much aware of what she was doing to me.

"What?" I asked with amusement.

"I really need to pee," she said, and I began to laugh because she did, too, and I knew she wasn't kidding. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, she added, "I'll be right back."

Letting go of me, she waved goodbye before going to the toilets. I busied myself with getting to know her colleagues whilst I waited, until five minutes had passed and I realised she still hadn't returned. Deciding to check on her, I headed in the direction of the toilets, only to freeze when I saw something I definitely wasn't expecting.

Leigh was kissing another girl outside of them.

It was her colleague, Abby, that was the first thing I noticed. But I didn't stay to make out anything more as I immediately turned around and walked away, trying to make my brain catch up to what I'd just seen.

Leigh was kissing somebody else. Somebody that wasn't me. Somebody who I had always suspected had a thing for her, but I never considered that maybe Leigh had a thing for her, too.

Definitely not tipsy anymore, I found the nearest table and took a seat, trying not to assume the worst. But how else could I perceive what I'd just seen? It could have been a mistake, though I was so shocked and hurt and angry that I couldn't imagine how. Maybe she'd explain herself to me. Or maybe she'd tell me what actually happened. Maybe.

Leigh returned not long after, finding me at the table. Smiling like nothing had happened, she pulled me up and led me to dance. Not once, for the remainder of the evening, did she suggest that anything was out of the ordinary, nor did she explain herself. And I couldn't help but wonder how I had the worst luck with women.

This one hurt way more than the last time because it wasn't just anyone – it was Leigh.

—

A year and a half ago:

"Danny mentioned the breakdown you had last week because they didn't have doughnuts, so I, er, brought you these just in case."

Leigh cracked a small smile in the passenger's seat before accepting the box I held out to her. I'd just parked up outside the place where she went to her grief counselling group, having offered to drop her off. It had only been a few months since Matt died, but sometimes, the old Leigh shone back through and it made me feel hopeful that she'd make it through this.

"Thank you," she said genuinely, fingers wavering on top of the box, before she lifted her gaze to meet mine. "And thanks for the ride. You didn't have to."

I shrugged, thumb tapping the steering wheel mindlessly. "I don't mind. I just wanna make sure you get here okay."

She sighed, shaking her head, though a ghost of a smile was on her lips.

"Text me when you're done and I'll be happy to pick you up, too," I added casually.

"Thanks," she repeated, though didn't make a move to leave my car just yet. I didn't rush her.

Sadly, the silence was broken when my phone began to ring and my girlfriend's name flashed on the screen in my car where my phone was connected to. Glancing at Leigh, I just about made out the eye-roll she did.

"Sorry," I apologised, before declining the call instantly.

"Why d'you do that? Could've been urgent," she said with a clipped tone.

Oh, no, I thought. Whenever she used that tone, it meant she was picking a fight.

"I'm here with you," I said like it was obvious, hoping that one thing didn't ruin the moment.

She tensed her jaw, looking down as her hair fell around her face. "Whatever."

Before I could think of a way to make her feel better, the screen lit up again and my ringtone echoed through the car. I winced at the glare Leigh sent to the screen. If looks could kill, my car would be toast.

Declining the call, I looked to her worriedly. "What's wrong, Leigh?"

Her glare fell to me. "Why the hell do you keep declining it? She's calling you for a reason."

I raised my eyebrows. "Because I'm here with you? Alex can wait. I'm taking you to grief group."

"Well, I'm here at grief group," she mocked, turning to face me with an unexplainable frustration.

I didn't understand why she was so touchy all of a sudden. The car ride here, she'd been fine. Just a moment ago, she'd been fine. But now... now she was acting unreasonable.

My phone buzzed in my pocket suddenly, followed by a tone that signalled I had a text. Leigh smiled bitterly, rolling her eyes.

"Let me guess," she muttered. "It's her."

Still very much unable to keep up with her mood swings, I didn't answer. Her gaze snapped to mine as she stared at me with disbelief.

"Why the fuck aren't you checking it?!"

I grimaced, my own exasperation slipping out when I blurted, "I'm a little confused to what you want from me right now, Leigh!" Breathing out slowly, I said, "I'm sorry if this is bothering you. I'll turn off my phone next time."

As if I'd deeply offended her, she raised a brow incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Why would this bother me?"

Okay, I was extremely confused now.

"I don't know," I admitted, bewildered.

"Is that what you think of me? Some clingy bitch who won't let you live your life?"

I widened my eyes. "What?! Leigh! I never said–"

"Sorry if taking me is such a task," she said abruptly, moving to put the box of doughnuts on the dashboard.

"I never said that," I told her sternly.

"You didn't have to. I know already. I'm just a burden on everyone."

She got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her. Meanwhile, my confusion was still trying to make out what the hell just happened.

"Don't bother picking me up," she said through the open window of the passenger's door. A scowl was on her face as she added, "You should go spend time with Alex. She's probably missing you."

Breathing out, I leaned back into my seat and watched her walk away and to the entrance of the building. When she acted like this – so push and pull with her emotions – I was so conflicted. What could possibly be going on in her mind that she managed to flip everything that just happened? A complete 180?

Knowing she'd just need some time to cool off, I shook my head and focused on leaving. But then I remembered my phone went off and pulled it out to see what was so important. Aside from two missed calls from Alex, I saw I had a voicemail, too, not a text.

Grumbling fo myself, still disgruntled by Leigh's attitude, I raised the phone to my ear to have a listen, whilst hoping it wasn't actually anything life-threatening.

At first, all I could hear was some very faint laughing and vague noises, kind of like material rubbing together and breathing. I assumed Alex had left me a voicemail without even realising since I'd done that countless of times to other people, having dropped my phone in my bag without realising it was still on. But then the noises became more distinct and I made out words.

"Jake, stop messing about," a voice said, whom I instantly recognised as my girlfriend.

I furrowed my brows. Jake? Jake as in the guy she worked with Jake?

"If you stop teasing me then maybe I will," a gravelly yet devious voice responded.

My throat went dry when I heard more laughter before it went quiet. It didn't take a genius to understand what was happening, especially when the moans that followed echoed in my ear, begging me not to forget.

Unable to listen anymore, I hung up and threw my phone onto the passenger's seat. Tears welled in my eyes as I glanced over at it hesitantly, almost wishing it hadn't even existed. And as much as I didn't want to accept the glaring fact, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

She was cheating on me.

[jean-kayak]

Anon Request: As someone tired of Y/N’s being spineless cowards around fangirls that disrespect her and cause her issues cuz they love her bf, let’s have Atsumu, Terushima, Oikawa, and Sakusa react to their usually gentle black!gf clocking these bitches with no hesitation. She’s nice and tried to avoid them, but they wanted to intimidate her and they were greeted with a fist to the face with the force of a pro-boxer.

Fangirl: Stay away from him! He belongs to us!

Y/N: 🙂 *cocks back and punches her before looking at other fangirls* Anyone else? No? Good, I’m getting my back blown out after this anyways *goes to her bf*

A/N: lmfao, anon, thank you for giving me a good laugh with this one

Characters: timeskip!Miya Atsumu, Terushima Yuuji, Oikawa Tooru, Sakusa Kiyoomi

🏐This was one of his games that you could finally go to, your schedule finally being cleared up

🏐It definitely wasn't the same watching your boyfriend play on TV, once again amazed at your boyfriend's talent

🏐He had scored the game winning point, his teammates and the crowd growing wild

🏐You hadn't told him you were coming, wanting to surprise him, so you waited outside of the stands, but you could see the many reporters lined up to interview him

🏐When he was done, you couldn't help but bounce on the balls of your feet, ready to see his reaction

🏐He doesn't notice you at first, so you call his name, and he looks around, his eyes widening when he spots you, and he's running over to you quickly, giving you a huge, sweaty hug

🏐"What're ya doing here?" he asks in disbelief, and you respond that you finally had free time from work

🏐He gives you another hug despite your protests before peppering your face in kisses, and your giggles stop along with his kisses when someone calls his name

🏐You both look and see a group of women all with his jersey number on them, and you instantly recognize them as the fangirls that you've noticed always hanging around whenever he did interviews

🏐He keeps his arm around your waist, and he steps a little closer to them. "Can I help ya?"

🏐You don't miss the way they eye you, and you raise an eyebrow at them

🏐"Is she your sister?"

🏐You laugh beside yourself at the petty question, not even being the least bothered by it, and Atsumu denies it, telling them that you're his girlfriend

🏐They all seemed more than shocked. "Oh," one of them starts. "I just expected her to be different?"

🏐Now you're pissed. Atsumu starts to defend you but you cut him off. "No, no, it's alright. They clearly have something to say," you start, stepping forward. "So, if you do. Say it."

🏐They all look between each other as you raise your eyebrows. "Atsumu there's no way you'd go for someone like her--"

🏐You deck her in the face, rolling your eyes when he falls onto the floor like a dramatic bitch

🏐"Oh, no, it looks like my hand slipped," you reply sarcastically as Atsumu's eyes widen, never seeing you or expecting you to do this

🏐You start walking away, stepping over the girl rolling on the ground holding her nose before turning to Atsumu. "Babe, you gotta get changed, right? Let's go."

🏐He jumps out of the shock he was in, glancing down at the girl on the ground, who's now being helped up by her friends before he runs after you

✂️"I know, I'm sorry. I'll remember next time," and you roll your eyes at the phrase that he says every time he forgets

✂️You were visiting your boyfriend at work because he had an annoying habit of forgetting his lunch

✂️You walk into the salon, seeing Terushima immediately, and his eyes widen in surprise before turning into a guilty smirk when you hold up the food

✂️"What did I tell you?" you scold when you walk up to him, and he kisses your forehead as he takes the food from you

✂️He thanks you again before giving you a soft kiss on the lips, and you're walking towards the door when you hear it

✂️"You know, Yuuji, you're pretty cute. Did I ever tell you that?"

✂️You stop in your tracks, spinning around on your heels to see his client blatantly flirting with him when you know she saw you interacting with him

✂️He responds with an awkward chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck, stating that he's taken, glancing your way

✂️"Oh, I didn't notice," she replies, and you watch her with a deadpanned look

✂️You walk up beside him, tiltling your head to the side

✂️"You need something?"

✂️She doesn't even seemed phased, giving you a simple shrug that makes you narrow your eyes at her

✂️This was sort of a regular occurrence, but no one's been this bold before, and you always caught the stares from other women, because duh your boyfriend's hot

✂️"This your girlfriend?" she asks, distain in her voice. "She seems like a bitch."

✂️"Excuse me?"

✂️"Aww, don't be like that. Most guys lower their standards, you know?" You cut her off, your fist connecting with her face before Terushima can even blink

✂️She actually tries to fight you back, but she obviously loses, getting to the point where her only goal is getting you off of her

✂️Terushima's thinking that's my girl, but then he's like oh shit, I have to stop this LMFAO

✂️He's quickly pulls you off of her, having a surprisingly hard time doing so

✂️"You chose the wrong one, bitch. Show your face here again and see what happens." She's quick to leave, and when you finally calm down, you realized that you just beat up someone in public, and Terushima almost loses his job 💀

🇦🇷You both stop when you hear someone call his name, both of you turning your attention towards the voice

🇦🇷You were walking out the gym hand-in-hand with your boyfriend going somewhere to celebrate after another win

🇦🇷When you walk out of the gym, the crowd has pretty much disappear due to Oikawa having a ton of interviews

🇦🇷He wraps his arm around you as you both laugh at an inside joke that you both had before he plants a kiss to your forehead

🇦🇷There's a small group of women with flags and wearing your boyfriend's jersey and he gives them a polite smile

🇦🇷This is nothing new for either of you, both of you already knowing what they want

🇦🇷He asks if they want a picture, already knowing the answer, and you easily take the pictures, this routine like clockwork to you

🇦🇷They giggle happily as you hand the phone back to one of them, and they all thank him before one of them speaks up

🇦🇷"Uh, this might sound weird, but are you seeing anyone?" You blink dumbly at her, like they didn't just see the two of you together

🇦🇷Oikawa has the same look on his face as he walks back to you, wrapping an arm around your waist before kissing your temple as he gives them a duh look, silently answering her question

🇦🇷"Are you sure?" another asks, and both you and Oikawa frown at the same time, as you feel yourself scoff

🇦🇷"More than anything in the world," he responds confidently

🇦🇷This isn't the first time fangirls have tried to come between your relationship, and he'll be damned if he lets it happen again

🇦🇷They all give each other questionable looks as you roll your eyes

🇦🇷"Is there a problem?" The tone in your voice surprises him, this being the first time he's heard aggression towards someone

🇦🇷"No, of course not," one answers sarcastically before reaching over and tugging your boyfriend over to them, the force so hard that he almost falls over. "We just think he would look better, happier with one of us."

🇦🇷You chuckle as you shake your head, and you reach over to take your hand off of your boyfriend, but she grabs at your wrist

🇦🇷Your reflexes are quick to kick in, and you yank both yours and Oikawa's wrist out of her grip before punching her in the face, probably harder than you needed to, but you were fucking pissed

🇦🇷Another girl tries to lunge for you, but you buck at her, making her quickly recoil. "You trynna get hit too?"

🇦🇷Oikawa's more than surprised, but he quickly puts his hand in yours before pulling you away from them with a proud smirk on his face

😷He sighs heavily as he turns to see a couple of women walking towards the both of you, his shoulders slumping slightly

😷Sakusa's never been a big fan of groups of people coming up to him after games, his number one priority getting home and relaxing after his game

😷You understand this pretty well, always helping him make his way out of the gym trying to find the route with the lowest chance of coming in contact with a lot of people

😷You had just made it out the doors, and Sakusa's about to take a breath of relief when he hears someone yelling his name

😷He's not really used to having "fangirls" a term that you use, and bottom line, he doesn't like it

😷They always crowd him, always trying to pry into his personal life, which is why he was so drawn to you when you first met

😷You were the complete opposite, more on the gentle, quieter side which he appreciated, liking that he could come home to you after a lot of excitement and just relax

😷"I'm sorry, but Sakusa doesn't really do pictures," you speak up, another reason why he really appreciates you, showing you by giving your hand a soft squeeze

😷But to his dismay, they don't back down, they actually turn pretty hostile pretty quickly

😷"Oh, relax, it's just one picture," she argues, and you give her a small smile

😷"I know, but seriously, he doesn't really care for them," you try again, and they both scoff

😷"What are you? His babysitter?" You raise your eyebrows at them as you turn your body towards them

😷"I'm his girlfriend. And I'm telling you that he doesn't want a picture."

😷"Well, you seem like a piece of shit girlfriend." You run your tongue over your teeth as you nod your head, and she actually has the audacity to try and reach for you

😷Before Sakusa can stop her, you dodge her hand before clocking her in the face, she hunches over in pain

😷The other girl tries to do the same, but you repeat your actions, putting her in the same position as her friend

😷"You got some audacity you dumb bitch, the fuck?"

😷To say the least, Sakusa is floored, your actions he least expected to come from you

😷"Hope you enjoy your broken nose. I'm gonna enjoy my boyfriend fucking his piece of shit girlfriend into next week."

😷Sakusa chokes as you pull him away, his face heating up at your words

😷"Did you really have to end with that?"

[karlajoyner]

Tease (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys so this was requested. I hope you guys enjoy it! And send in your own request!

Requested by: @universefangirl (Tumblr)

Warnings: Smut (18+)

————

I sighed typing away frustratedly at my computer attempting to get my work done for the night. Taking another sip of my wine I looked over to the couch to see my boyfriend scrolling through his phone.

"You know? It must be nice being a paid actor during a pandemic" I spoke catching his attention. A grin began to form on his face as he stood up making his way over to me in the kitchen.

"It has its perks. Can't say the same about you baby" He teased rubbing my shoulders. I rolled my eyes continuing to type away.

"You know you could take a break" He whispered getting near my ear.

"I can't. If I don't get this is by tonight I'm so fired"

"Fine. I'm just gonna go live for a bit. And relax afterwards. I'm pretty busy tomorrow"

"Yes Charles getting to sleep in and doing a live interview late afternoon sounds so exhausting. Meanwhile I have a term paper for English due and on top of that I have to do two more sets of these for work" I spoke holding up my papers.

"For your information I'm going on a hike tomorrow morning. Then I'm going live" He said another deep breath leaving my mouth.

"Aww baby. It's okay"

"Is it though?" I asked frustrated at his lack of sympathy. I love him and all but he seems to forget that his totally normal girlfriend works a 9 to 5 and still goes to college. And as much as I appreciate the times he said he could put in a good word for me with Kenny. I refused to be exposed in the spotlight more than I already was for being his girlfriend.

"I'm sure you can do it. You always do"

"Your right. I'm amazing. I don't know what you'd do without me" I joked trying to lighten up my own mood more than his.

"I don't either. I'd miss you too much" He said placing kisses just below my ear.

"Hmm really? Care to find out Gillespie?" I asked biting my lip. This was my opportunity to get him back where it hurt.

"What do you mean?" I smirked continuing to do my work. Without another word leaving my mouth.

“Baby. What do you mean?" He asked again standing up.

I stayed quiet as he repeated the question a few more times finishing up what I was doing. I had to get through all my stuff for school and work tonight if I wanted tomorrow to go as planned.

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping. Glancing over at the clock I smiled. On schedule. I moved over to the empty spot beside me with a grin. Charlie was really in for it today.

I quickly got up making the bed when my phone suddenly dinged. I smiled seeing it was a good miring text from Charlie himself.

“Good morning my love. Just finished my hike. On my way home with coffee.

“I'll see you in a bit baby" I read aloud. I smiled at the cute detail before continuing on with my plan.

Changing into yoga pants and a sports bra I made my way to the living room setting up for a morning workout. Something I rarely got to do since my second term started and I became ambushed with work. It'd been nearly half an hour before I heard the front door open. The smell of coffee carrying itself through the small apartment.

"Baby your awake" He stated taking in my appearance. No doubt the sweat droplets on my body making me look shiny as hell.

"Yeah. I finished all my work last night so I figured I'd have a day to myself. I did a morning work out and I'm gonna do more things I haven't done in a while" I smiled innocently.

"Mmm am I one of those things by any chance?" He smirked pulling me close. Placing a kiss to my sweaty forehead.

"You wish. Actually I invited y/b/n over. We were thinking of painting to clear our minds"

"Oh but you can't paint looking like this. So sweaty. So wet" He whispered rubbing circles on my hips.

"Yeah I'll probably hop in the shower in a bit" I grinned before pulling away to go finish my workout.

“You know I need to shower too. What if we hop in together? To save water"

"Um I don't know. Can you keep your hands to yourself Gillespie?" I asked bending down in front of him to stretch.

"I can't answer that" He growled coming to stand behind me. As soon I felt his hands on my waist I stood up turning around to face him.

"Tsk Tsk Tsk" I whispered pulling back.

“What baby? Why won't you let me touch you?" He whined.

"Because it's my only free day and I'm going to enjoy it babe" I said placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips before walking away.

"Where are you going?" He called.

"To shower"

"Can I join?"

"If you can keep your hands away" I heard him groan as I shut the bathroom door behind me. Giggling to myself I entered the shower washing myself down.

Purposely forgetting to bring in an outfit. Knowing Charlie didn't enter for a reason I called out for him after I was clean.

"Charlie!" I shouted waiting for him to come in.

"Yes baby?"

"Can you bring me some clothes please?”I asked peeking my head out the curtain.

"Can I touch you?" He asked.

"Uh how about no"

"Then no" He said hoping that would get a reaction out of me. It didn't.

"Fine. If you insist" I spoke shutting the water off. Within a matter of seconds I exited the shower. Feeling his eyes piercing through me.

"Close your mouth. Your gonna catch flies" I said wrapping my towel around my body.

"Mm baby you don't know what your doing to me" He moaned out.

"I don't? Or do I?" I asked opening the door further so I could slip past him. Heading to the bedroom I smiled to myself knowing it was working.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Rushing over I peeked through the hole to see y/b/n standing there. Thankful both of our COVID tests came out negative I smiled welcoming her inside.

"Hey y/n/n"

"Y/b/n!" I shouted happy to see her after so long.

"So how's he doing?" She asked knowing all about my plan.

"Not good. I love him I really do but paybacks a bitch. I can't wait til his interview" I smirked walking her to my room.

I was quick to change into a cute matching set with only one of his band shirts layering on top.

"Wow. He's gonna be drooling"

"That's the plan. Thanks for doing this again"

"Its no problem. What are best friends for? Just promise me you'll give me every detail tomorrow. You know after he breaks"

"I promise" I said as we both giggled exiting the room. We made our way towards the living room pulling out the supplies she had brought over for our eventful day.

Y/b/n and I enjoyed each other's company for a while. Catching up on our new quarantine rituals. It wasn't long before Charlie came out of the restroom completely shirtless with only a towel wrapped around his waist. I bit my lip coming back to reality when y/b/n bumped my shoulder.

"Y/b/n. You're here" Charlie said running his fingers through his hair. He knew what he was doing.

"Yeah. I came to spend time with my best friend. Did you see her today by the way?" Y/b/n said taking my hand and playfully spinning me around. I chuckled at her antics realizing she'd done it on purpose to give him a full view of what I was wearing. If something drove Charlie Gillespie crazy. It was me wearing his band tees.

"I didn't. Thank you for that" Charlie spoke sending daggers through me.

"I hope you don't mind. I barrowed your shirt to paint. I can change if you wa-"

"No! No no baby keep it on. It looks amazing on you" He said a small smile playing at his lips.

"Thanks baby. When's your interview?"

"In like 20 minutes. I'm gonna go get ready"

"Sounds good. We'll be on the balcony painting. That good?"

"Of course baby" I smiled walking out on the hard cemented area placing down our stuff.

We specifically chatted those 20 minutes waiting for Charlie to come out of the bedroom.

"I'm going live" Charlie called through the screen door.

"Okay good luck" I called back. I saw him send me a wink before setting up his phone where the sun was hitting him perfectly.

"This is perfect" I whispered to y/b/n as we pulled out our paints.

"I know. I can't believe he set himself up right there" She whispered back. I giggled pulling out the pastel pink from the bag.

"Charlie!" I heard the interviewer shout. My boyfriend clearly estatic.

"Hey man what's up?"

"What's up with me? What's up with you? Your our first cast member of the day. So for starters we wanna know what's up with you?"

"Nothing much man. I mean I've been writing a lot recently"

"Oh yeah can we be expecting any music coming out soon away from the Julie and the Phantoms band?"

"Uh no. That's kind of where I'm at right now which is amazing you know? Working with such great cast and bandmates it's great"

"Sounds like it. So where do you get inspiration from during this whole new situation we're in? It must get boring"

"Uh it does at times when I'm alone. Which is rare since I've been quarantining with my girlfriend. She's amazing company and overall my biggest inspiration"

"Girlfriend? Are you guys at her place or yours?"

"Hers man. I didn't wanna disturb her peace but she insisted and it's just been amazing. I love her" He said my heart fluttering at his words. I looked over at y/b/n to see her smirking at me.

"What about your cast? Do they know her?"

"Oh yeah. Like my family, they absolutely love her which is great. You know their approval means a lot to me so it's nice that everyone gets along with her just fine"

"That's good to hear so moving back to your music" The interviewer continued changing subjects. With his wholesome answers I almost felt bad denying him my touch today. And almost felt bad what I'd be doing next.

Almost.

After about 15 minutes I began to laugh at nothing signalling it was go time. I glanced back see Charlie staring up at us. Clearly trying to focus on the interviewer speaking. Clearly.

"Stop!" I whisper shouted at my best friend who splattered pain on me. I repeated her actions earning a giggle from the girl.

Suddenly I felt a cold sensation hit me. She had thrown our water cup at me in return I splattered more paint towards her. Trying to stay as quiet as possible.

"No yeah thanks man. I had fun" I heard Charlie say. Signifying the interview was nearly over.

"No thank you. Charlie Gillespie everyone. Up next Owen Patrick Joyner!" The man shouted before the living room went silent.

"Done?" I asked turning back to look indoors. The door screen being the only thing between us and the indoors.

"Yeah. What happened?"

"I don't know y/b/n what did happened?" I asked the girl in a teasing voice. Moving back slowly letting the sun hit my body. The white shirt on my body becoming see through.

"Cover up baby"

"Y/b/n doesn't mind right babe?" I asked her.

"Nope. We've been best friends forever Charles. I know her inside out. I also know you should probably get changed out of that"

"Or I could just do this" I replied removing the shirt from my body altogether. I watched as Charlie's jaw dropped in surprised.

"Cute set. Victoria secret?"

"Pink" I answered walking into the living room.

"Huh. I would've never guessed. Oh shoot it's already 5:00 o'clock? I should get going. I have to get to Dylan's house. Do you need help cleaning up?"

"No!" Charlie shouted before I could answer.

"No. We've got it y/b/n. No worries"

"Thanks guys" She smiled pulling me into a hug then Charlie. I watched as he walked her towards the door.

Not knowing which one was rushing more him or her.

"Thanks for coming!" I called out grabbing some paper towels to wipe off the water still on my body.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Charlie asked once the door shut.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"You've been such a bad girl"

“Me?" I asked looking behind me jokingly knowing I was the only one here.

"Teasing me all damn day. Having y/b/n come over to be a cock block. And then pulling that little stunk during my interview"

"I don't know what your going on about Charles. I didn't know y/b/n name was gonna- Ahhh" I squealed feeling his strong arms wrap around me from behind lifting me up.

"Charlie!" I shouted as he carried me towards the bedroom.

"Yes?" He questioned when he put me down on the bed gently.

"Seriously?" I asked ask he removed his shirt.

"Seriously" He confirmed moving in to kiss me. It was gentle at first but that gentleness soon became hunger. From both ends we fought for dominance. Tired of fighting I gave in as he pushed me further up the bed.

"Charlie please" I pleaded beginning to palm him through his jeans. Feeling him get harder by the second.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Not yet" He whispered making me whine. He chuckled before speaking once more in a hushed tone.

"Now are you gonna tell daddy exactly why you teased him all day?" I groaned knowing there was no way of getting out of this one.

"Nope" I said hoping to move on.

"Mm I don't like the sound of that" He said removing his jeans. I moaned seeing his full body. He was too hot for his own good.

"Now are you gonna tell me or should I return the punishment" I internally groaned not in the mood to be teased.

"I-I just feel like you forget sometimes that I have so much on my plate. And maybe sometimes you could be insensitive about it" I muttered the last part hoping he wouldn't hear. But judging by his features softening he had heard every word.

"I make you feel that way?" he asked caressing my cheek.

"Not all the time but yeah sometimes"

"Baby. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" He mumbled placing soft kisses on my lips.

"I guess I just forget sometimes that you have so much to do. I just wanna spend all my time with you since that's all I have. I also guess offering to pay for things like your college doesn't help either when your girlfriends independent"

"And capable of doing everything on her own. Including paying for her school and home necessities. I mean it's a nice gesture baby but I'd just appreciate it if maybe you could take a step back and realize I'm only human. And not everyone wants to become an actor. I'm studying really hard to get to where I wanna be. And even if I'm working a boring desk job right now I won't be in the future"

"I know baby and I'm so proud of you for that you know that right?"

"Of course Charlie. And I know your my number one supporter just like I'm your number one fan" I said as he placed small kisses on my nose.

"Good....So you did all this today to get back at me?"

"Well yeah I wanted to have fun. But it's no fun when I too need to resist the urge to jump on you when you come out of the shower shirtless"

"Yeah about that I didn't know y/b/n was here or I wouldn't have walked out like that"

"I know baby. But now that we're alone so can we please just-" My words were cut off by his lips once more.

Giggling at his eagerness I began to palm him through his boxers once more.

"You don't know the things you do to me baby" He whispered pulling my bra down letting my breast fall free. I moaned as he began to suck on the left one and toying with the right one.

"God I missed these"

"Charlie please hurry up" I spoke. He didn't hesitate to remove my panties and his boxers immediately lining himself up at my entrance.

"You've been taking your birth control right?"

"Of course you idiot"

"Ooo aggressive much"

"Charlie if you don-" My words were cut off by a moan as he entered me. Not hesitating to start moving at a steady pace.

"Charlie" I moaned wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Faster"

"I'm so close baby"

"Me too" I panted as he sped up. His thrust becoming sloppier by the second.

"I'm gonna-" He groaned being the first to release. My climax coming not long after. I sighed as we rode our our highs together.

"I love you baby" Charlie said standing up and cleaning me off with a t-shirt of his.

"I love you too" I said as he finally came to lay next to me. Pulling the covers over us.

"You do know I really am proud of you right?"

"I don't know I think you need to prove it to me" I halfheartedly joked.

"If you insists" He whispered pulling me in for a sweet tender kiss.

Time slowing down as we spent the night tangled in each other's arms. Enjoying each other's company. Each other's love.

[stanzoeywade]

Tiptoe - Poppy x MC

Taglist: @somewillwin @uhh-the-green-thing @jmojellybae @simp-pony @made-me-deep-blue @uselesslesbianfr @it-lives-in-braidwood-manor @belvoiresqueenbee @alexlabhont @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @sparring-hyena @baexpoppy @cloakanddaggerthings

Summary: Poppy and MC meet in summer and they were dating but broke it off, not related to free falling dhaisja don't ask about ch3 idk either.

A/N: uhm hi I've been a ghost for like months lol but I heard from a little birdie that queen b is coming back in September and I'm so ready to clown for my wife Poppy again. Based on song below which is a bop. I also did not check my spelling or grammar I die like a dumbass. My one braincell would like to thank u all and Gabi for this fic 💗

There's hardly anything in this world that captivates you, until you see her. Her flawless skin, her blonde hair and those deep chocolate orbs that you just want to stare at and drown in forever. Who knew such a beauty existed? It boggles you to know that the Min-Sinclair heiress is perfect. One might say that you're jealous but deep down you know that's not the case. Jealousy? No, it's not jealousy, you're enthralled by her. It's not even because of how fucking gorgeous she looks, it runs deeper than that. There's just this weird sense of kinship that you feel when you look at her. She's more than the ranking, she's vulnerable and actually cares, something you saw when you went to the animal shelter.

The way her eyes sparkled when she saw the rescue animals, the way her mouth curved into that gentle smile. Who knew the queen bee of Belvoire had a heart? Her vulnerability is further shown when you realise that the golden girl of Belvoire has her own scars, her pride a by-product of the hurt caused by family and so called friends.

Having seen the forefront of it all, Belvoire is cutthroat. Everything matters, the clothes you wear, your family name. It's a free for all, no one cares who gets burned, low blows exchanged, it's all a big mind game and those who fall under pressure lose not just their reputation but everything they have worked for. But apart from all of that, she's still the first thing that makes you smile.

It's damning, the way your mind and heart races at the thought of Poppy. The way her eyes light up when she flashes that gentle smile, where one look is all it takes to make your knees weak and the blood rushing up your cheeks. You've never seen such a beauty, her smile is like a soft ray of sunshine, warming you up. However, she's also as mysterious as the moon, especially since she acts so sweet and the next minute she's as cold as ever. It's enough to give you whiplash.

Such gentle and delicate features, yet her personality is as fiery as the sun, I guess it's true what they say, the sun is beautiful yet staring at it can become painful.

It's confusing as to why Rosie's fallen so hard for Poppy, they've been rivals from the start, with each other's goal to come out on top. Things have definitely changed after the night they slept together, Poppy's words have no actual bite to them. If she were brave enough Rosie would've called Poppy out on it, but she's so confused on where they stand that she doesn't want to risk this newfound "friendship" if one can even call it that.

It suddenly hits Rosie like a brick. 'Wait, has Poppy been courting me in her own weird way or am I imagining shit?' She becomes more confused as Poppy seems to stare at her longer than she ever did, sometimes Rosie would meet eyes with Poppy who seems to have a longing stare as if she has so much to convey yet has no courage to do so. Sometimes it gets to the point where Poppy blushes after she realises that both of them have been staring at each other for too long. Both of them being a flustered and blushing mess, looking away as if they've been burned from getting too close to a fire.

Most people in Belvoire would argue that its not longing and wistful glances that the two are exchanging, they'd say that those were intense glares formed from the ongoing rivalry that the two have established in public, but anyone who personally knows Poppy and Rosie would say differently. There's also an ongoing bet between the students of the school. Some argue that Poppy and Rosie are secretly dating whilst the rest argue that they absolutely loathe each other and the ongoing stares are to intimidate each other to give in and leave Belvoire.

Zoey and Veronica are secretly in cahoots in which they bet that the two are definitely dating or in Veronica's words "those two are definitely fucking" which earns her a fond smile as well as a roll of the eyes from Zoey. Chloe suspects something between Poppy and Rosie, considering they genuinely don't seem to put energy behind the insults they throw at each other. She doesn't think that the two are lovers but she definitely thinks that they're secretly friends.

It's not until Veronica sees Rosie wink at Poppy when she thought nobody was looking, and she was certain that the blonde would glare at Rosie but imagine her surprise when Poppy flirts back by winking back. In which she's all too excited to text Zoey about. "Omfg bitch, you won't believe what I saw today, like holy fuck the two gays were flirting when they thought no one was looking." All she gets in response from Zoey was "show receipts pls."

Rosie can feel herself falling for Poppy, both of them know that things have changed. Neither seem too interested in fighting and when they do argue, it's all for show, after all no one knows that they're secretly pining after each other. She suddenly remembers how they met.

-Flashback-

Being relatively new to New York, Rosie was eager to meet new people and what better way to start off than hooking up with strangers from a random bar? After all, the city was big and it's been a while. As soon as she arrived someone immediately caught her attention. One Poppy Min-Sinclair, dressed to the nines, she was definitely Rosie's type. Not really expecting anything Rosie struts towards her, in hopes of beginning a conversation.

At first Poppy seemed uninterested, scoffing and she felt a presence near her. She didn't really want to deal with anyone considering they're usually just random guys who wanted to hook up in the bathrooms or worse they're drunk as fuck trying to flirt with her. However, imagine her surprise when she looks at the person that dared to sit by her. Poppy would be lying if she said that the girl in front of her wasn't her type. She seemed sweet, and had a gentle smile. It was also a bonus that the girl seemed to know how to dress herself.

When their eyes met, there was this lightning spark that just fit into place, the two had chemistry. It was undeniable, the two just knew how to push and pull. The banter was there, so was the attraction.

Poppy wasn't shy about showing her attraction, obviously checking Rosie out, which earns her a low chuckle from the other girl. "At least buy me dinner first before you undress me with you eyes?" said Rosie with mirth dancing around her eyes, whilst Poppy just laughs, soft and languidly slow. At which point Rosie knew she was screwed, the blonde in front of her looked like she just walked out of the runway, and her laugh was definitely something Rosie wanted to hear more of.

She's pulled out of her epiphany once Poppy speaks, voice sultry and pulling Rosie in like a siren. "My name is Poppy Min-Sinclair, and I do what I want sweetheart." The confidence she exudes is shown in her voices. It's addicting the way the blonde presents herself, every move calculated and poised. Every word that leaves her lips is deliberate and elegant in her own unique way. If she was in her right mind, Rosie would've been terrified by how enraptured she was by this girl in front of her.

Rosie wasn't one to back down from a challenge therefore she decides to tease the girl in front of her. "Is your name supposed to be important? I've never heard of it. Anyways, since you've introduced yourself so nicely, my name's Rosie." Poppy just raises an eyebrow at her semi-surprised that the other girl hasn't heard of her. "Sorry babe, the whole world doesn't revolve around you." said Rosie with a cheeky smile and wink and before Poppy can retort Rosie finishes off by saying "but it definitely should revolve around you, I mean look at you, you're mesmerising."

If it were any other person, Poppy would have definitely rolled her eyes and walked away, but Rosie seemed to mean it. The other girl definitely looked like she wore her heart on her sleeve, and it was just so damn endearing that Poppy, against her usual M.O., she decides to stay and talk to the other girl. 'She looks cute enough, but if she's gonna be annoying then I'll just ditch her later.' thought Poppy.

Both women were intrigued by each other, and one thing led to another. Before they knew it they were together in a hotel room. Neither of them cared about who made the move first, all they knew was that they had to have each other one way or the other.

Despite her pent up desire and lust, Poppy still cared about her reputation, after all even if she was on break it didn't mean she can be careless, plus she didn't exactly want to expose Rosie to Belvoire's dirty laundry, the girl seemed nice enough and Poppy wasn't about to mess with this girl. Sure she's a fucking bitch but that doesn't mean she wants people to suffer because of her unless they've wronged her or any of her friends in some way. She's petty but she's not that petty.

God knows Belvoire is a shithole.

They're definitely closer than what should be conceived as acceptable, considering Rosie is literally one step away from kissing Poppy. Not like either of then cared considering they were too focused on each other to pay attention to their surroundings. It's only when the bartender coughs that the two pull away from each other as if taken out of their seemingly lulled state.

Rosie's about to say goodbye, considering the blonde seems like she's torn between leaving or staying, but she's caught by surprise when Poppy yanks her arm back. "Where do you think you're going, little lamb? I didn't say I was done with you yet." The way it was said was enough to make Rosie shiver. The way the Min-Sinclair heiress said it so confidently, it didn't help that she looked to be the epitome of lust and desire at that moment, but from then on Rosie knew she was fucked, both literally and figuratively.

Before she knew it she was pulled into a car headed to the nearest luxury hotel, which just so happens to be a presidential suite at The Ritz. Rosie didn't show but she was shocked. She knew the girl was rich, I mean come on her clothes are fresh off the runway and the blonde exuded power and wealth. But this was like a bucket of ice water being dropped on Rosie's head, this was definitely something she wasn't expecting.

NSFW AHEAD

She's taken aback by the inside of the hotel suite, she expected it to be fancy, but nothing could prepare her for the plush king sized bed, as well as the overall layout of the room. It looks like something straight out of an IKEA magazine, Rosie can't help but think.

"Well, are you just going to stand there or are we actually going to fuck?" says Poppy. Rosie is taken aback from how bluntly Poppy put it. Speaking of which, the blonde girl is already half way through removing her clothes. She couldn't help the gasp that escapes her as she gawks at Poppy and the way her body looks so perfect, unblemished milky white skin that looks so soft, all Rosie could think of is leaving marks in her wake. She licks her lips in anticipation as Poppy gives her the come hither gesture, and Rosie is immediately lured in, like a moth drawn to a flame.

Her hands immediately raise up, helping Poppy out of her clothes, until all that remains is Poppy's underwear. Her eyes scan Poppy's body and out of the corner of her eye she can see Poppy's satisfied smile. Rosie is pulled in, her body pulled in flush against Poppy. Her eyes dart over to Poppy's lips as she leans in to kiss Poppy. A hand covers her mouth as she hears "Not yet Hughes, it's unfair if I'm the only one in my underwear."

Rosie's ears are definitely bright red at this point and she's pretty sure that her whole body is flushed, but she gives Poppy a show as she takes each article of clothing slowly, piece by piece as if testing Poppy's already short patience. As she takes her blouse off, Poppy's staring at her so intensely she can feel her legs wobble. The look conveying an unspoken promise. It's enough to make her a little self conscious, but her confidence is regained as soon as she sees how flushed Poppy is. It also helped that she saw Poppy gulp, looking at her like she's the only thing in the world. "See something you like, Min-Sinclair?" she can't help but tease and the blonde rolls her eyes.

"You were doing so well until you started speaking. Just get your ass over here. I'm not used to waiting for things I want." said Poppy. Rosie struts over to Poppy.

She's immediately back at Poppy's side, the Min-Sinclair heiress looking her up and down which makes Rosie nervous as the way Poppy stares is intense. Her doubts are quickly quelled as she's soon tugged harshly the collar. Poppy pulls her in roughly for a kiss, as their tongues dance and weave against each other, battling for dominance. They both step forwards towards the bed, and the noises that come out of Poppy is irresistible and music to her ears. She sounds incredible and Rosie can't get enough and with a flick of her tongue Poppy is putty in her hands.

They both fall towards the bed, Poppy ending up under Rosie. They pull away quickly to catch their breath, and Poppy's eyes are blown so much so, her pupils are dilated like a cat ready to catch its prey. Her lips parted and bruised, taking in oxygen as if all of her breath has been taken away. If Rosie thought she was in charge, she's got another thing coming. Their position is switched, as Poppy expertly flips them over, landing her on top of the other girl. Rosie ending up with her back against the bed as Poppy straddles her. "You're a good kisser, Hughes." she says and Rosie smiles mischievously "I try." she replies.

Poppy's quick to kiss Rosie again, as if she's her only lifeline teetering her to the world. Every kiss shared feels like sparks flying, the intensity and passion leaving them both breathless. It's not like Rosie's gonna give in and let Poppy top her, she quickly pull Poppy by the waist, bodies completely flushed against each other before rolling over so that their position is once again switched. This time Rosie comes out on top.

Before the other girl can complain, Rosie's quick to shut her up but trailing kisses from lips to her neck. Poppy smells like fresh cherries and vanilla, which for some reason is very fitting. After all cherries are sweet but the fruit itself can be dangerous, however there's a hint of danger. After all cherries do have cyanide in the seed. The whimpers and moans that come from Poppy's mouth are sensual and spurs Rosie on even more. She can't get enough of the blonde.

She can feel Poppy's nails taking across her back, and she's sure that those are definitely going to leave marks, not like she minds considering she's too far gone from the sound of Poppy's moans and whimpers.

Rosie looks at Poppy and she can't help but admire how beautiful Poppy looks under her, eyes half lidded and chest heaving. "You look better when you're quiet, Princess." said Rosie, but instead of reporting Poppy just pulls her back in and their lips are clashing against except this time its rough. Poppy pulling and tugging at her hair, while leaving small nibbles on her lips. Rosie knows that her lips are going to be all sorts of red and bruised the next morning.

Rosie's hand finds their way to the waistband of Poppy underwear, and she can feel the wet patch. She slides her hand inside and moves her fingers to find Poppy's clit, where she rubs small circles, and she feels the blonde jolt from the sudden contact and Rosie is about to apologise until she hears Poppy's breathy moans. "I swear to god, if you stop I'm going to fucking kill you." whimpered Poppy.

Rosie just smiles against Poppy's skin as she continues teasing Poppy until the other girl is a panting and whimpering mess. "I need your fingers inside me Hughes, stop fucking around and actually start fucking me." It's said so desperately Rosie finally grants the blonde her wish and starts pumping her fingers in and out until the blonde cums, back arched away from bed and a loud and filthy moan is all the can be heard. Rosie helps the other ride out her orgasm by cooing gentle words and leaving kisses that are definitely going to leave marks on the Poppy's unblemished skin.

-NSFW END-

-FLASHBACK END-

The casuak hook up turns into dates and outings, and both of them start to catch feelings for each other. As much as it surprises Poppy she genuinely enjoys the time that she spends with Rosie. The other girl always making sure to make Poppy smile. It doesn't help that Rosie had this weird way of knowing when Poppy was upset or stressed in which she'd always do something to help the blonde feel better. Rosie's become a constant, a home away from home in a sort. Always there even on Poppy's worse days, not giving in even when Poppy's relentlessly cruel and bitchy. If she weren't so fucking smitten Poppy would have thought that Rosie was a Saint considering how patient she is. However, she refuses to confess her feelings to the other girl first, after all she's a Min-Sinclair and they don't confess ever. People confess to her.

They're both stubborn, therefore they both refuse to even acknowledge their budding feelings for the other. Though there have been too many times where Poppy has gotten jealous when people stare too much at Rosie, though it's reserved and usually subtle. Poppy quietly stakes her claim by always having some sort of physical contact with Rosie. It could be something as simple as a hand on Rosie's forearm or wrist. But the real warning comes from her passive aggressiveness when others get too close to Rosie or the glares that are given if anyone is dumb enough to try and flirt with the other girl.

It's not like Rosie is any better. Whilst Poppy is subtle with her jealousy, Rosie is not. She's always quick hold Poppy's hand as if to signify that the blonde is hers and it's even worse if anyone ignores that. She becomes more physically affectionate. She hugs Poppy as if her life depends on it. There's also been a few times where if Rosie's patience was tested she'd get really jealous and the next time they're intimate she always leaves marks where no one but her or Poppy knows. It's also when she becomes quite dominant in the bedroom and it genuinely entertains Poppy so much so it's become her second favourite past time. The first definitely being their intimate moments.

It gets to the point where both of then get so frustrated they confess how they feel that the same time, which becomes one of their inside jokes considering they both felt like idiots for not confessing their feelings sooner.

However, it's not like summer lasts forever and both of them end up breaking it off, since Poppy actually likes Rosie and she refuses to put her through the shit that goes on in Belvoire. "It was fun while it lasted, Hughes, but I'm sorry. I have to go back and I'm not sure I'll ever see you again." said Poppy, voice cold as ice as if the whole thing didn't matter. Poppy would be lying if she said that it meant nothing, considering she's never been happier. The other girl definitely had a special place in her heart but as they say if you really live someone you have to let them go. She might be cruel but she's not about to fuck Rosie's life up by involving her in the stupidity of Belvoire, she deserves better. Maybe after unibersity she can find Rosie and they can try again.

Rosie's quite sure that she's never going to find anyone that makes her feel the way Poppy does, but she's not one to make things more complicated. "I'm glad I met you Poppy Min-Sinclair, it's been fun while it lasted. Maybe someday we can meet each other again."

Imagine her surprise when it turns out that Poppy attends Belvoire, both of them shocked to see each other again. The only difference being that Poppy seems much colder than the one she met before. Her eyes didn't have that shine or hint of mischief. It looked too detached. "What are you staring at?" said one of the girls following Poppy. Her eyes widened in surprise as the person her roommate Zoey warned her about was Poppy. She's barely acknowledged by Poppy as she just walks away without a word.

Things start to get more complicated as both of them are put against each other, as they compete for the top spot. It's not like Rosie really cared about the fucking thing, in all honesty she didn't even want to compete with Poppy but it's not like she had a choice considering no one cared that she didn't want to compete with Poppy. It gets to the point Rosie avoids Poppy altogether, not really wanting the unsolicited drama with the other girl.

It becomes even worse when rumours start that th reason why the two girls avoided each other like the plague was because Carter was cheating on Poppy with Rosie, and this gets blown out of proportion during the football game in which the screen shows a poorly photoshopped photo of Rosie and Carter kissing.

The way Poppy looked at Rosie broke her heart. Poppy looked tired and upset. She looked like she was betrayed and worse of all the look was directed at her. It's made even worse when Poppy wordlessly looks away, tears on her eyes as she runs to get away from the stadium.

Things change when Rosie chases after Poppy. It's the first time she sees Poppy cry, and it breaks her heart because how can she be so foolish. This was the person she fell for, and it sucked because she was the reason why Poppy was upset.

She approaches Poppy carefully, and as soon as she's noticed. Poppy's eyes narrow into a glare. "What do you want Hughes? Haven't you done enough already?" she yells, her voice full of venom. The words sting, but Rosie marches on, as she apologises. "I know I'm the last person you want to see, but I wanted to say I'm sorry. You didn't deserve all of that." She reaches out to try and comfort Poppy but she stops as remembers that she's the reason Poppy was crying in the first place. They both stand there in a tense silence, both not wanting to speak until they both say something at the same time. "Why didn't you tell me that you go to Belvoire?" they both say in sync.

Rosie lets Poppy speak first. "If you said that you were going to be attending Belvoire, maybe things would have been different." she says and this catches Rosie's attention. "Different how?" she asks and Poppy looks at her eyes softening as she says "I would have admitted that I was falling for you."

That's how they got back together.

[bruhstories]

Of Tattoos and Accidents

Summary: Sasha and Connie drag you to your tattoo appointment and you don’t regret it. Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: language, tattoo artist!Armin Word Count: 1.3 k

A/N: Ha, I didn't write a smutty piece!

"Ready for your first tattoo?" Connie barged into your bedroom followed by Sasha as you were brushing your untamed hair. "Absolutely not. Is it too late to cancel?" You sighed, the idea of a needle poking your skin making you throw up. "Come on, Y/N, you had 2 fractured ribs, a broken leg and you still walked to class after that wardrobe fell on you. You can take a needle." Sasha encouraged you, her hand patting your head. "Yeah, and then I fainted during that same class." "I'm amazed, really. Remember when you got run over, got up and still came to my party?" Connie shook his head. "How are you scared of a tattoo?" "I'm just scared of needles, okay?" You sighed. There was nothing you could do to convince your friends to cancel that stupid appointment you drunkenly made. "But not scared of getting hit by a car? Come on, Y/N, we're gonna be late." The brunette grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the room with Connie pushing you from behind. It was decided: they were gonna force you to get that tattoo whether you liked it or not. Besides, how bad could it be? "I don't wanna do this, guys. Please, let's go back! I promise I'll do your dishes for the rest of my life!" You cried out as your friends pulled you into the tattoo parlour. Your hand grabbed the door handle as you were trying to resist them, nails clawing their arms. "Sweet Jesus, let go of me or I'll call your parents!" You resorted to empty threats. "Um, you guys need any help?" A foreign voice asked and your eyes darted to the source. "Hi, you must be Armin." Connie smiled, his arms around your waist as he tried to pick you up but you just wouldn't let go of the damn handle. "I'm Connie, I have an appointment with Eren. These are Sasha and Y/N." "Is she alright?" Armin whispered, a look of concern on his face. "She's just stubborn, aren't you?" "I wanna go home, please!" You bit into Sasha's hand, the girl letting out a yelp. "Y/N? You must be my 3 o'clock." The blond calmly stated. "First time, I assume?" He playfully asked you. "Come on, woman, get it together. Remember when that dog bit you and you limped back home, too afraid to go to the hospital?" Connie snickered. "Please stop talking." You pursed your lips. "Hey, I promise it won't hurt." Armin smiled. Your grip around the handle loosened and you finally took a good look at him. A few piercings in his ears, a killer tattoo around his neck and eyes so blue you could drown in them. The man looked both like an angel and a devil, and it intrigued you. After you finally calmed down your friends went into two separate rooms, Connie to get his seventh tattoo, Sasha to pierce her septum and you were left with Armin, who invited you into what seemed like a reception room. "You don't have to bullshit me, I know it's gonna hurt like a motherfucker." You took a seat on an armchair as he handed you a portfolio of his drawings and doodles to choose from. "I'm not bullshitting you, it all depends where you'll have me– it. The tattoo." The blond shook his head at his slip and you couldn't stifle the giggle that came out of your mouth. "Sorry, it's been a long day." He lied. "No worries." You smiled and flipped through the pages. "Wait, these are all done by you?" "Every single one." "Damn, you're really good!" "Thanks." His cheeks flushed red. "Um, anyway, it really all depends on the area on your body. Shoulders hurt the least." "What hurts the most?" You asked, curiosity dripping down your tongue. "Umm... feet and... " "And?" "L-lower areas." Armin was blushing furiously. Normally he wouldn't have a problem explaining these things to his clients, he wasn't necessarily a prude, but something about you made him stutter like a toddler. "Oh, ooooh, I get it, duh!" You rolled your eyes at the slow gears in your head. "I think I want this one." You handed him back his portfolio and pointed at the splendid drawing of two koi fish, representing yin and yang. It perfectly mirrored your style, as well as your personality, and you were content with your choice. "Perfect! And where will you have

me? IT! Jesus, I'm so sorry." He trailed off, your smile only making him more flustered. "Honestly, just take me out first." You joked, fingers playing with a lock of hair. "I think I'll have it on my upper shoulder. I'm not ready for too much pain yet." "Great, let's get you ready." The shirt you were wearing was loose enough for you to pull it down your arm, offering Armin both enough room to work, and a good view into your cleavage whenever he got up from his chair. He was a professional, though, and whenever he focused nothing could distract him. The first puncture made you suck your teeth and clench your fists but he was right, it didn't hurt as bad as you thought it would. "So, what was that about a dog biting you?" The blond asked, brows furrowed, eyes on your shoulder. "Oh, God, Connie and his stupid mouth... I'm kinda prone to accidents. I'm not clumsy, just severely lacking luck." You explained with a sigh. "Yet you're still scared of needles?" "Um, yes? I guess we all have a phobia. Some are scared of spiders, others of heights. I'm terrified of needles." "Yet I'm poking you." Armin laughed, the smile quickly fading after realising how sexual that sounded. "With a needle, I mean." You were beginning to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. "Well, I gotta face my fears, don't I? Besides, I've always wanted a tattoo. I used to get those temporary ones when I was a kid." "Well, maybe you'll get some more. Oh, I'm gonna have to do the shading now. This might hurt a bit more." He let you know before getting up and changing the needle. "Got anything for me to bite into?" You joked, genuinely hoping it wouldn't be that bad, but to Armin it sounded like an invitation. "N-not really." "I'll just use my hand then." Goodness gracious, it hurt like a bitch. You bit into your knuckles, almost drawing blood, muffled curses filling the room. It amused and concerned him to see someone so determined to get a tattoo, despite your intolerance for pain and fear of needles. "Fucking hell!" You removed the fist out of your mouth, nails digging into your thighs. "Bitch ass motherfucker!" "It's over!" Armin laughed at your reaction. "It's alright, Y/N, I'm done." "Oh, thank the fucking Lord!" You wiped the tears off of your cheeks. Armin cleaned you up and gently placed a patch over your first (and last) tattoo before handing you a booklet with instructions. The two of you walked back into the reception room and you plopped back on the armchair, careful not to touch it with your shoulder. "Um, I don't normally do this but do you want to go out for a drink sometime?" The blond smiled. "I'm paying." "Yeah, you better pay after what I went through." You chuckled. "So, is that a yes?" "It's a definite yes." "Y/N, I thought you were getting murdered in there." Connie walked in followed by who you assumed to be Eren. "Ah shit, was I that loud?" "Loud? I think you guys need to soundproof your rooms." Sasha chimed in, flaunting her new piercing. Armin walked you and your friends out and handed you a small piece of paper with his number on it. "What was that all about?" The brunette eyed you up and down with a shit-eating grin on her face. "I don't know what you're talking about." You slid the paper in your pocket. "Wait, Armin gave you his number? Think you can get me a free tat?" Connie sneered at you. "Oh, yeah, totally!" "Really?" "Hell no."

[johnkrrasinski]

paralyzed;

full masterlist

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 2,032

Warning: SMUT!!!! non-con, degradation, humilation, oral sex (male & female receiving), murder, mention of blood, kidnapping. (MUST BE 18+)

Summary: Steve Rogers broke into your house but not for your money. 

a/n: i’m back on my dark!steve rogers bullshit. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"You should be grateful." He stared down at your writhing form, with a knife in his hands that he had just wiped clean from the blood of her wimpy boyfriend. "I could've killed you too if I wanted to."

The tears of terror flowed from your eyes as you miserably attempted to free yourself out of the robes that were bounding you but to no avail. You wanted to scream for help as loud as you possibly could but all that could come out of your tapped lips were pathetic whimpers.

You wanted to run on your wobbly legs as fast as you could even if you knew you were going to stumble to the ground and scrape your knees and it would only make it so easy for him to catch you but at least you had that fleeting sense of freedom, an ephemeral glint of hope that you could actually save yourself from this psycho.

But it was hopeless. He was too strong. You stood no chance trying to outrun him, all it would lead you to was only in a worse scenario.

But hey, at least you are not dead yet.

Steve Rogers had been watching her and her pantywaist of a boyfriend for months now. Every day, he would sit in his RV for hours and he would park it across their house. He watched him leave to work every morning and she would peck him a kiss on the lips before he entered his car and drove away. He never understood what a girl as hot as her was doing with an average, tedious guy like him. She could do so much more. She should be with a man like him that could satisfy her in bed.

It started when she called for a plumber and the first time he saw her, he was instantly captivated by her beauty. "Fucking hell, she was gorgeous," he thought. She was only wearing a white tank top and booty shorts with a cardigan over her shoulders when he arrived. Her cleavage that was peeking through her shirt and her creamy thighs got him and jerking off at the thought of fucking her into the mattress that night. but he remembered the silver ring around her finger and the pictures of her wedding day in the living room, and he didn't like it. There was nothing that he hated more than what he couldn't have.

And so, a nefarious plan was forming in his head. he waited patiently for weeks, camouflaged himself in a baseball hat and hid in his RV. He observed her from afar, he learned her routines and broke into her house once when she left to the grocery store to memorize every corner and every room. He did it so neatly. He was ready, at another Friday night when it was nearing 12 am, after her husband came home and slumbering next to her, he snuck in through the back door with a dark mask covering his face and he tiptoed into the master bedroom.

He was as silent as a ninja that it was way too swift and a way to easy. He stood over the edge of their bed, he watched their peaceful states and he admired how divine she still looked even when she was deep asleep and the lights were out.

He walked to her husband's side of the bed and put his glove covered hand over his mouth and slit his throat. his eyes bulged as soon as he realized what was happening but he couldn't speak or scream, he could only thrash around until steve cut off his windpipe.

And in a matter of seconds, the schmuck was laying lifeless with his eyes wide open, the splash of his blood tainted his white sheets. He dragged the body off the bed to the floor and the thud woke her up.

It took her a few seconds to realize the gory calamity that was happening before her and before she could scream and run, he held her down on the bed and covered her nose with chloroform dipped handkerchief until she went unconscious.

That's how she woke up an hour later, bound and bare. her head was dizzy from what felt like hours of staying still in the same position now and the fear just kept rising and rising with every movement and noise he made. at least she was sure that he wasn't going to murder her just yet.

You had so many questions swirling in your brain, you began searching for the people you might have had done wrong or any suspicious behaviour that you might've had neglected... Not a single one had given you a valid answer.

"You must be wondering who am I and what do I want, huh?" he scoffed. "Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you or for your money, I'm here for you."

You could feel the bed dipped with the weight of his arms behind you. He loved the view of your ass up in the air, face pressed to the blood tainted sheet and your limbs knotted with ropes. the things he was going to do to you...

"Remember when you called me to fix your sink a few months ago? Boy, you looked miserable as hell. knew it since the first moment I saw you that this guy doesn't have the guts to fuck your brains out. well... Didn't would be more appropriate." he smirked. "I met a lot of housewives and most of them practically begged for me to make them cum but, none of them was as sexy as you."

Gou could hear the clanking sounds of his belt being unfastened and him pulling down his pants and underwear just enough to spring his cock free. He pulled you down harshly to the edge of the bed, your skin burned against the friction.

You tried to push him away with your feet but he overpowered you by keeping you in place. "Don't fucking move, bitch. Or we are gonna do this the hard way, you want that?" You didn't fight back or resist by keeping quiet... not that you could do much anyway. "good."

He bent down his knees and dipped his head into your core, he licked a stripe over your entrance to your clit and lapped on your juices. He devoured you like a famished man and the squelching noises were deeply humiliating.

His beard unpleasantly tickled you and you knew he was gonna leave some beard burn later but that was your least concern right now. "Mmm, so fucking sweet, just like I imagined." He groaned at your taste, sending vibration to your core.

You moaned when two of his fingers intruded you and his thumb was circling your clit. Your body betrayed you by producing the wetness that you resisted. He curled his digits and brushed the spot that made you lose your mind. You sighed when he pumped in and out of you, scissoring your walls. “Look at you dripping all over my fingers. Can’t help it, can you? You need to be fucked hard by a real man so bad.”

The tears in your eyes had blurred your vision. His filthy words made you squirm. “Don’t worry, little slut. I’ll give you what your wimpy husband couldn’t.” He was amused by your reaction as he kept rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You mewled through your muffled mouth.

You felt your orgasm approaching, an unwanted eruption. But you were so close to the edge and when he moved in and out of your walls faster, you were pushed over the edge, making a mess all over your captor’s fingers. “That’s it. Go ahead, bitch. Show me what a dirty little slut you are.”

Your legs trembled and you were coming down from your high when Steve turned you around and now you were face to face with your captor. You wanted to curse this debauched man for ruining your life but all you could do was plead with your eyes to stop and let you go.

He stroked his cock and grazed it along your slit and milked it with your wetness before violating your body by pushing it to your entrance. “So fucking tight.” Steve began moving in and out of you, stretching you wide open with his cock. He began by pulling out until only the tip was in and impaled you deeply, jolting your entire body.

He repeated this motion and accelerated his pace. He kept his eyes on the way your breasts bouncing with every thrust. He untied the robe around your ankles and lifted them up onto his shoulders. You could feel him deeper than before and it hurt. “Take it bitch, take my cock like the fucking whore you are.”

Your visions were getting hazy by second. You were locked in your own body. All you could do was lay there and take it until he was done. He sped up, trying to chase his own release and the coil in your abdomen tightened. No, please no, not a second one. You spasmed and you exploded, this one was bigger than the last. Steve only chuckled at the sight while still ramming in and out of you vigorously.

“Fucking whore. Acting like you don’t like it but you’re so desperate to cum, huh? I’m gonna fucking wreck you.” Your walls clenched around him and Steve’s cock throbbed. He threw his head back and groaned and pulled out of you to dump his load all over your body, your breasts and your belly were covered in his thick, white cum.

You felt numb, you could only lay in an uncomfortable position with the robes digging into your skin with tears flowing from your eyes. You didn’t know if you could ever recover from this molestation if you were lucky enough for Steve to let you live… You’d be left with the pieces. At this point, you didn’t know if him ending your life would be a better or worse option. At least, you wouldn’t have to bury your husband or tell the police, your friends and family about what happened.

Just when you thought he was done, he turned you around so your head was hanging on the edge of your bed. “You didn’t think I’m done with you, yet, did you?” He stood tall above you, his face was like a demon creeping up in the dark, ready to pounce on you. “Please, just stop, please. I can’t- I can’t take it anymore.” You stammered through your ragged breaths. “Open your mouth.”

“Please, I’ll give you whatever you want, just, please, let me go.”

“Open your fucking mouth, bitch. Or I’ll do it for you.” He threatened.

You cried as you parted your lips slowly, but Steve was impatient. He propelled the tip into your mouth and he hit the back of your throat. You whined at the pain but the reverberation only aroused him even more. He gripped your breasts and used them as handles and fucked your face. “Gonna use you like the cockslut you are.”

He shut his eyes and grunted, profanities falling from his mouth. Tears were falling from the corner of your eyes and your gag reflexed. You could taste yourself around him. He pinched your nipples and you shrieked. “Suck my cock, slut.” He taunted. You swallowed around his shaft. It didn’t take long for him to drive his hips faster and he was ready to burst at any second.

He convulsed and drained his fluids down your throat. He stayed there for a few more seconds until he had no more drop to give and withdrew. You felt void, used and paralyzed. Your body wasn’t yours anymore and no matter how many showers you were going to take, there was no ridding his traces all over your skin.

“Let’s not waste any more time, yeah? We’re going to your new house. I’m gonna keep you as my personal sex slave. You’re gonna have a new life as my fucktoy and you’re gonna learn how to serve me. Get on your feet.”

[thenihilistofthevoid]

I have several questions The last time you and pierrete had problems you said it was because she was a minor and now you’re fighting with her again? You’re the adult here, why are you fighting with a her again?

And then you’re getting so worked up over kissing bro they were kissing not fucking and it was a cheek kiss you do realize people kiss their siblings on the check, so what the problem here, and you’re kind of reinforcing that you are the anon because they never accused you in any of the post I seen. I’m just confused.

Under read more due to length and drama.

She fucking started a witch hunt against me after her OC came into my inbox and bit my character, who responded with violence because from his perspective he'd been attacked by some weirdo he knew nothing about and decided to collaborate with purplecraze in online bullying, as per this when Saburo first encountered her.

Her character doesn't fucking act 16, try 5. I'm an adult but so is she, apparently. She span the false narrative about my character torturing and nearly killing her to anyone who'd listen and vilifed my character to every Golden Wind RP blog I encountered. They're the ones shitting the bed over a single joke I made after anons that I repeat, were not me since I had blocked her made observations that Pierette and Giorno's actions had undertones of incest.

Rather than talk to me about what happened as an adult and ask nicely "Hey, that joke isn't appropriate, please take it down", they vagueposted in my replies and then blocked me with no explanation. Perhaps the joke is tasteless, but comedy is fucking subjective.

Then, purplecraze posts this nice little number.

"Poke the eyes out of people who disagree" I think most people threatening physical violence towards people who have a different opinion towards you about sibling affection is very unhinged. I don't agree with half the shit Harley Queef over here does but I don't say "Lol she does stupid shit I'm gonna cut her toes off" because I'm not mentally unbalanced or insane.

Then she goes on this rant about being ready to bite my head off, she doesn't get to be fucking angry after organizing her little witch hunt.

She's a complete narcissist who spins false narratives and then gives non apologies that read "I'm sorry if you were hurt by what happened" as in it's my fault I wasn't having fun. I don't care what sort of relationship her terrible OC has with that Giorno. If they wanna kiss and cuddle and whatever, fine. Whatever gets their rocks off, not my monkeys, not my problem. But people are entitled to think that's weird and they're allowed to comment their views without being harrassed or bullied or threatened, that's how a democratic society works. You can have your opinion, but in the same vein of free speech I am allowed to have opinions about that opinion, as is anon. If you're going to do weirdo shit, people are allowed to think you're weird for doing it. If you don't like that, that's your problem.

The fact that they all blocked me indicates they likely believe I'm the anon who sent the incest stuff. I'm not and I don't care enough to argue this anymore. I'm used to Harley Queef sending flying monkeys after me like she did back in June. She's toxic, her little friends are toxic for supporting her bullying campaign and I want them to fucking leave me alone. I'm done with their stupidity and I'm done talking about this shitfest. I don't like posting negativity or drama on my blog but I'm not going to allow the circus of cunts over there to attack me without response. They're blocked, I'm moving on. Fuck the lot of them. They're a bad memory and a bad taste in my mouth. I have other Jojo RPers, ones that aren't attached to a bad clown OC run by a narcissistic bitch who can't take a joke or a loss in an RP when someone says no to her character's behavior because of her frail little ego. So by all means, send this back to Harley Queef. If she wants to fight, I’ll give her one. I don’t tolerate disrespect from anyone.

Signing out from this bullshit fest. - Romana

[butteraway]

when time runs out | ii

⋆ summary:  A young girl has fallen deeply ill with an unknown disease in her, so with all her free time spent in an empty hospital room, she spends it online playing video games. That's until she meets her cousins friends, one spiking her interest with his extremely vulgare language.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: small mentions of suicide (I’ll put a star ‘⋆’ on top and below the paragraph so you can skip over it if your uncomfortable, you won’t miss anything too important so dont worry!)

"Bro, honestly I still can't believe that you of all people made it into the elite, number one hero school in the country."

"Waahh, I'm telling you! I'm the real deal Y/N!"

"So, how's your summer been? School's gonna be starting soon, are you excited?" Denki could only smile and sigh as his character was finally killed off.

Said girl chuckled as she heard Denki's voice rise through her headphones as they continued killing zombies in front of them. She grimaced as a zombie attacked her from behind her character. Geez, I never get a break in this game.

"Well, to be honest, nothing big really happened besides me getting my acceptance letter from U.A. Just me training and hanging with the fam." He laid back in the comfort of his bed, headphones still on in order to hear his cousin.

"Aah, already training, hero boy? That's why you haven't been visiting me lately." Y/N pouted and crossed her arms as her TV screen turned black, returning her to the main page of the game.

"Man, we suck at this game!" Denki laughed out loud as he saw how long they lasted in the last round. Y/N smiled and let out a small giggle of her own as she placed down her controller.

"Yeah, how long have we had this game for? It still feels like it's our first time playing this." Denki cracked a smile, even though Y/N couldn't see him.

"Hey, sorry for not being able to come to the hospital. Getting ready for U.A. is no joke, haha." Denki rubbed the nape of his neck, eyebrows scrunching up with regret. 

"Nah nah, it's fine! I understand that you have things to do. You have big plans for the future." Y/N brushed a strand of her hair away from her face, looking down at the needles that were plunged into her arms. Her eyes were clouded with an emotion she often felt when talking with Denki. She always felt guilty whenever the feeling came around.

"Must be nice to be able to achieve your dreams." Jealousy. She hated the feeling she got every now and then, but you couldn't really blame her. She lost everything in only a couple of months. Silence passed between the two teenagers, Y/N finally realizing what she said.

"Uh s-sorry about that! I didn't mean to say that alou-" Y/N was cut off by Denki's soft voice.

"Y/N, it's... okay to feel like that. I don't understand what you have been going through, but I know that you shouldn't bring yourself down for something you can't control. You're such an amazing person and to be honest. . ." Denki paused as Y/N's eyes began to glaze over.

"I'm doing this for me and you. You always encouraged me to take any opportunity by, as you like to say, the neck. I-I wanna make you proud, y'know? I wanna make it feel like you're a part of this crazy world, even if you're not really here, walking with me through it all."

Y/N’s lips wobbled as she let out a watery laugh. She hunched over, small tears falling down her face. To someone else, this would've boosted their ego, but to Y/N, those words meant the world to her. No one had ever said that to her before. She felt like she had a purpose in this wretched life of hers. She sniffles were heard by Denki

"H-hey! It's okay, p-please don't cry!" Y/N heard shuffling coming from Denki as he reassured her to not cry.

"I mean it. I only wish you could be there though, it would be so much cooler!" Denki smiled, trying to lighten up the mood. Y/N's sniffles slowly quieted down as she let out a soft laugh that made his heart swell with joy. At least he can make her laugh.

"I'm s-sorry, but no one has ever told me t-that." Small hiccups came from the girl as she calmed down, taking deep breaths to slow her heart rate. Won't want doctors to come rushing in just to see her crying over something so small.

⋆

"I-I'm just really happy you said that." Denki's heart clenched at those words, his chin trembling every now and then. He knew that Y/N wasn't happy with where she was. She had even admitted that she had urges to rip out the needles and slowly lose her life from there. Denki spent the rest of that night talking to her after. To say he was concerned was an understatement. He was terrified when she told him.

⋆

"I think us being able to play games together is already enough!" They both laughed and talked for a couple of minutes before deciding to to hang up. 

"Y/N, I mean it when I say I want you to be happy, okay? I hope you feel better tomorrow. Buh-bye!" Y/N said her goodbye to Denki, hanging up and closing the laptop that sat on a movable table. 

Her smile slowly left her face, leaving her staring blankly at the pure white wall and mirror in front of her. When visitors were gone, her window would turn to a mirror so no one would disturb her. Y/N took a good look at herself and only sighed. Despite being as healthy as she could get, she looked a bit on the thin side, this complimenting her skin. Running a hand through her hair, she untangled the little knots that had formed there.

"Geez, what happened to you girl? You look like a zombie." Y/N looked at the zombie game and cringed.

"Literally."  Just then the door to her room opened and shut quickly, the air filter turning on when a female doctor entered. Y/N watched her carefully as she checked the IV that connected to her arm. The protective suit never made Y/N feel better about her condition.

"Are you alright, Ms. L/N?" The light, stern voice rang through her ears as she looked at the woman in front of her. Y/N gave the doctor a grin.

"Never been better."

It had been an hour since the doctors had turned the lights off, but Y/N didn't feel the slightest bit of exhaustion. She had been sitting in the pitch black room for the time being and was really debating on turning on the TV.

"Ahh, fudge it." Instinctively reaching out for the remote, she turned on the TV and winced as the bright light hit her.

Looking back to the screen, she chose the option of going online and waited for other players to join. While waiting, a new character popped up next to her and she could only smirk at their username. Tapping on her mic, she decided to make conversation with them to see if they also had a mic.

"Now, what to play. What to play..." Y/N had settled for playing OverWatch since she didn't feel like playing any story type games. No cliffhangers tonight, Y/N thought. As the game loaded, she laid back and began thinking about cheesecake. When was the last I ate strawberry cheesecake? Great, now I want some. Thinking about eating cheesecake made her excited about the next day.

"Well hello, dear ol' '​​​​​King Explosion Murder_1.' Nice name you got there." Y/N chuckled as she said the name out loud, seeing another player enter.

"Hello 'Tape Dispenser?' What's with the wack name?" The girl’s eyes crinkled as she smiled at their name, hearing the user chuckle through her headphones. '​​​​​​King Explosion Murder' still had yet to reply, but that didn't bother her. They're either using the bathroom or don't have a mic. 

"The name was inspired by my quirk. But what's up with '_DeathGirl_', huh? You good?"  Y/N could only laugh at what he said. She should really send him a friend request.

"I’m honestly great, a little tired, but great! I just gotta make up a name, y'know? But your quirk has to do with tape? I don't know if that's wicked or useless." The boy laughed while Y/N laughed as well, losing her grip on her controller. That was until a gruff voice interrupted their laughing session.

"Shut the fuck up, your annoying ass voices are giving me a damn headache." Finally, after being silent, 'King Explosion Murder_1' spoke up.

"Aah, so you do talk. I don't know why you didn't say anything sooner Mr. Explosion Murder." The other player could only sneer at what she said, hitting his desk with his fist. Another player had joined, Y/N only noticing.

"Ah, hello 'Sleep Deprived Controller!'" Said player made their character wave, making Y/N chuckle. While they had their interaction, 'King Explosion Murder' was shouting at her, now realizing that she wasn't paying attention to what he was saying.

"Hey! Listen to me when I'm fucking talking to you, emo bitch!" Y/N’s eyes widened, soon rolling her eyes, watching the game load as they were placed into a match. What's his damn problem?

"Hey man, no need to go calling people names now." 'Tape Dispenser' nervously chuckled as he heard the other player growl. Y/N sported a shocked face as she heard this. What is he, a dog??? 

"Outta this conversation, extra!" Tape dude could only deadpan at what he was just called. Who calls people extras?? I’m not an extra, in fact I think I’m- 'Sleep Deprived Controller' listened with an annoyed expression on their face, wishing they could shut their shouting teammate up. Damn, wish I actually had a mic.

The game began as all the players separated, going their own way to kill their enemies. Everyone was in the zone, getting items and yelping every now and then if they were attacked. The first to go down was 'Tape Dispenser', then 'Sleep Deprived Controller', leaving both Y/N and 'King Explosion Murder' left on their team. Y/N smirked at their winning team, only one player was left on the other team. Just as the game was going to end, the opposing player shot down 'Explosion Murder', killing him.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUU-" His mic cut off, causing the two players with mics in a cackling mess. Y/N calmed down, remembering she was still playing, trying to hunt down the last player. Finally, after many curses by a certain player and cheering from another, she located her enemy. 

"You better fucking win this or I'll kill you." Knowing he didn't mean that last part, she only focused on the first part. You better win this. Those words echoed through her head as she stopped aiming for the player. She hated being told what to do.

"Ah, so you're one of those people." Not knowing what she meant, they only watched with wide eyes at what she did. Y/N jumped down next to the enemy, shooting them twice with her weakest gun, signaling them that she was there. Quickly, the other player shot her character down, killing her. They lost the game.

"THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?! WE COULD'VE FUCKING WON!" Explosion Murder wasn't taking defeat easily like the other two were. Y/N could only give a grunt of disapproval towards the loud player.

"Ha, why did you just give up right there? You could've easily killed him." Tape Dispenser was just as confused as the other two players, slightly disappointed at the loss. Y/N sighed as she rubbed her forehead.

"Sorry not sorry, but this dude really thought he could get away with telling me what to do. I'll make my move when I'm ready, sorry to disappoint you guys." She sighed as she rubbed her neck, ready to hear the disapprovals of her teammate. But what she heard and saw made her smile.

"Nah, it's fine. It can get a tiny bit annoying with Murder yelling in your ear." Tape Dispenser reassured her, with Sleep Deprived's character giving her a thumbs up. Though, the annoyed sigh caught her attention back to him. Her eyebrow twitched. What is it now?

"I'm done with this fucking sappy shit scene. I'm out." Those were Murder's last words before he disconnected, leaving them in an awkward silence before Y/N stifled a giggle.

"I have a feeling that won't be the last time I'm seeing him." Tape Dispenser chuckled while Sleep Deprived's character shook their head, making Y/N softly laugh. After sending friend requests to both people, she bid them both fair well and left.

Y/N turned off her console and tv, putting the controllers on the table near her. She laid down in the comfort of her bed, thinking about her interactions with the people she met. She smiled, closing her eyes and drifting into a dreamless slumber with only one thought in mind. 

King Explosion Murder is such a weird name.

[alloftheimaginess]

Night Out

My first Buck fanfic. Go easy on me. It might suck but I wrote this after watching Sofia the first with my goddaughter at 11 o’clock last night

"Whoo that was something!" Buck says jumping into the locker room as everyone is getting ready to leave for the day.

"A fire that big and no fatalities. We have to celebrate we should hit up that bar on pico, you know the one with the loaded fries" he says going to his locker and he turns around excited.

"First rounds on me" he says turning back to his locker as Eddie shuts his.

"I wish I could, man. Christopher's hosting his first sleepover tonight" he says walking out and I smile at him and he stops in the door.

"Hey, you're more than welcome to come and celebrate with a bunch of nine year olds" he says and I chuckle at that.

"Hah, the rest of us will toast your absence" Buck says.

"Hey, tell Christopher I said hi" I say and he nods walking out.

"Will do" he calls behind him.

"You're going to have to toast mine too. Tonight's date night with Karen" hen says sitting up from tying her shoes and standing up with her bag.

"She can come" he says sounding a little defeated.

"I don't think that's her idea of a date, but have fun" she says and she blows me kisses before leaving.

"Yeah and I'm sorry buck, but uh Athena and I have date night tonight too. So you guys have a good time" Bobby says also turning him down before walking out and I frown a little and Chimney closes his locker and I have a little hope that he can hang out with him because I have to get home to relieve my babysitter.

"No offense but you are not the Buckley I was looking forward to spending my night with" he says and I pretend like I'm not listening.

"I get it Chim, go wine and dine my sister, I'll be fine" he says and chimney claps before running out and I sit on the bench putting my shoes on.

"Go ahead" he says and I look up.

"What?" I ask smiling at him.

"Tell me your plans that you have so you can't hang out with me" he says and I stand up.

"I didn't think you were inviting the mom out" I say smirking at him.

"I didn't mean anything by th-"

"I know, I'm joking" I say and I frown.

"But I actually can't make it tonight" I say and he sighs.

"I'm totally kidding, I need human interaction with another adult and not a seven year old tonight or I'm going to lose my mind" I say smiling at him.

"I love you so much (Y/n)" he says and I laugh grabbing my duffle bag.

"But every round is on you. See you at 8" I say running out before he can protest.

I walk into the bar, feeling a bit out of place because I haven't been to one in years. "(Y/n)" Buck says standing up and I walk over to him and he hugs me before sitting back down and I sit on the opposite side of the table and I smile at him.

"So I was promised loaded fries" I say breaking the awkwardness in the air around us.

"Oh yeah totally" he says going to stand up.

"I bet I can get them for free" I say smirking at him.

"no way" He says sitting back down.

"Care to make this interesting?" I ask.

"Definitely, if you can't like I know you can't you'll have to wash my car for a month" he says and I nod.

"And if I can which I know I will, you'll have to drive me to work for the next month and I like to be there at five o'clock" I say smirking at him and I stick my hand out and he shakes it.

"Watch and learn young one" I say standing up and adjusting my dress and I go over to the bar leaning down and she comes over and I smile at her.

"Hey beautiful" I say and she smiles at me.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" She asks, her smile growing when she looks at me and I pretend to look at the menu and I turn to buck.

"Loaded fries?" I ask and he nods and I turn back to her.

"2 orders of loaded fries, my friend over there is pretty hungry after the fire he had to put out today" I say catching on to what's playing on the news and she looks up at the tv and back at buck.

"He saved that deaf woman?" She asks and I nod.

"Yeah and an old mans cat" I say and she smiles at me again.

"It's on the house" she says.

"And whatever else you want" she adds before putting in our order.

"Thank you so much" I say and she nods.

"Are either of you single?" She asks and I nod.

"Yeah, he's so single" I say grabbing the receipt and walking back over to buck.

"Read it and weep" I say slamming it down on the table and he picks it up.

"How?" He asks laughing.

"If she asks for your number, it wasn't my fault" I say sliding back into the seat.

"I cant handle anymore Disney channel theme songs, I'm so glad I got to get out tonight" I say leaning back.

"If I have to hear I was a girl in the village doing alright then I became a princess overnight anymore I'm going to absolutely lose my mind" I say giggling and he laughs with me holding up his beer and I clink mine against his.

"Buck, buck, buck" I say trying to stop him from talking.

"I needed this so much" I say laughing and he unlocks his door and we both quickly make it inside.

"I'm going to change and make some snacks and we can find something to watch" he says stumbling up the stairs and I crash on the sofa kicking my shoes off and dropping my purse on the coffee table and I look around at his place and I take in how nice it is and he comes back down the stairs, tossing me a shirt and I go to the bathroom to change and when I come back out he's taking all the snacks out his cabinets and I grab the m&m's.

"I was a girl in the village doing alright then I became a princess overnight. Now I gotta figure out how to do it right so much to learn and see. Up in the castle with my new family in a school that's just for royalty, a whole enchanted world is waiting for me I'm so excited to be Sofia the First. I'm finding out what being royal's all about Sofia the First. Making my way, it's an adventure everyday, Sofia, it's gonna be my time to show them all that I'm Sofia the First!” I sing as the new episode comes on.

“This show actually isn’t half bad” he says shoving more popcorn into his mouth.

“It’s really not and that’s what bothers me, I can totally get distracted when Emery puts it on and I can watch it with her for hours” I say.

“This princess Amber is low key a bitch though” he says through his mouthful of popcorn.

“Tell me about it” I say.

“Did you two have fun last night?” Hen ask when we make it into work the next morning and I shush her before going to my locker and quickly opening it so I can grab my pills and I take two.

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun. I don’t know about buck” I say.

“Someone call me?” He asks turning away from his locker and they all laugh.

“Maddie was following your Snapchat stories the whole night Evan, she said it looked like you were genuinely having fun” Chimney says.

“I was. It was the most fun I had in a while” he says.

“Karen and I watched your Snapchat as well (Y/n), I felt bad for leaving buck but he was in good company” Hen says.

“But then out of nowhere the snaps stopped for both of you” she adds.

“Yeah because we just watched a Disney channel show I told him about” I say putting my sunglasses in my purse.

“It’s called Sofia the first and I’m kind of upset we didn’t finish it” he says and I laugh shaking my head.

“Can’t say I disagree” I say grabbing my uniform so I can go change.

A few weeks later.

“Shit, shit, shit” I whisper as I’m sat on the toilet.

“Mama, are you almost done I’m hungry” Emery asks and I wipe my eyes.

“Yeah, baby give me a second” I say standing up.

“Can we make pancakes for breakfast?” She asks.

“Whatever you want, we’ll do” I say shoving the pregnancy test into the back of the towel cabinet.

[marvelfangirllll]

All mine

Dean Winchester X Plus size!Reader

Words: 1586

Based off the post above.  (Y/f/c) favorite colour and (y/b/n) your bully's name or a random name.

Bullying trigger warning

I had been out with the girls shopping as I needed some new bras and they were already planning on going to the mall anyway.  I had picked out a few cute ones when they noticed a deal on some sexy lingerie pieces.  I had held up a couple to me in front of the mirror when Charlie and the rest of our friends then convinced me to try my favorite on.

I went to the change rooms and tried on the (y/f/c) one piece that lifted my breasts and flattered my hips and sides and lifted my bottom.  I turned myself around a few times.  I felt like I should be on the cover of a magazine.  "My lord if I wasn't me I'd date someone wearing this.  I then changed back into my clothes and left the change rooms.

"Was everything okay you took so long in there" Jody asked.  "Yeah I was about to go knock to make sure you didn't die" Charlie said.  "I was perfectly fine maybe a little more than perfect my self esteem hasn't really been up this much in a long time.  I'm definitely buying this." I smiled thinking back to how I looked.  I went up to the counter to pay for everything and that's when I noticed who was in line at the other cash.  The girl who bullied me for a long time who made me hate myself more then I could imagine.  Hopefully she doesn't recognize me. 

That's when she walked over to me while I was still waiting.  "Oh my is that you (y/n) (y/l/n)". She squealed and hugged me.  "Yeah it's me just picking up some stuff" I say hoping she'd leave.  She then looked at all the stuff I was getting.  "Cute but that one piece definitely isn't for a cow like you, you'll most likely rip it with your flabby skin, besides even if it does fit who you gonna wear it for?  Yourself... pathetic.  You probably don't even have a boyfriend and if you do than he's probably also a fat lazy pig".  This bitch was getting on my nerves and I tried my hardest not to cry.  "I'll have you know that I don't care what you think and that you certainly have not changed.  I do have a boyfriend and he is the sexiest man that I know and he loves me to pieces." I say glaring at her.  "Yeah and he's probably made up like the rest of your "boyfriends" (y/n)" she says putting boyfriend in finger quotations.  "I do thank you very much".  I said sassy. I then pulled up a picture of Dean and I together.  "That's your boyfriend, I know him he came to my bar one night and we screwed like crazy, the guy said that that he hadn't been laid like that in a long time.  I guess your terrible in bed then (y/n) and best regards to Poor Dean" she said and gave me her number "here for when he wants the best sex of his life again".  That's when I bought my bras but left the one piece behind and ran outside the mall.  Truth is we haven't had sex.

Charlie and Jody noticed (Y/n) had ran off and looked over to (y/b/n).  Jody then walked over to her "excuse me ma'am your under arrest for verbal assault". (y/b/n) tried to fight out of it "It was a joke I know that girl from our past, we're really close I swear" she tried to get free and get at Jody.  "Do you want to add assaulting a officer to the list" Jody says.  "No Sheriff" (y/b/n) relaxed and went down to the station with Jody.

When I was outside that's when I felt an a arm go around me.  "Hey, don't worry about bitches like her, your sexy and you and I know that Dean loves you.  If he didn't then I'd slay him like a dragon.  Charlie says and gives me a hug.  She then hands me a bag from the store we were at.  "Merry Christmas in July".  I then look in the bag to see the one piece I loved.  "I don't think Dean would ever cheat on you...also she's gone down to the station" she laughs.  "Jody?" I question.  Charlie nods with a smirk.  "No she didn't? Omg I thank you both so much your the best girlfriends I could ask for" I jump with Joy.

I head home after I took the girls out for lunch as thanks.  I decide to have a me day for the rest of the day as the boy's weren't in the bunker.  I decided to have a nice hot bath with a bath bomb and some bubbles.  I had a facemask on my face.  "As hectic as it may be I think I actually love my life" I say to myself. 

After my self care I decide to put on some comfy clothes and decide to bake.  I look at the things in the cupboard and decide to make a Carmel Pecan pie.

The pie had finished and I decided to put it aside to cool and put on a movie.  When my movie had finished I decided to go check on the pie and noticed it had left the location I had put it and went on a pie hunt.

I then found it still in one piece no slices gone and go to grab it when I feel muscular arms wrap around my waist.  "I'm back princess thanks for the pie" Dean says and then turns me around and kisses me.  "Who says the pie is yours?  It's for after dinner Dean and if you try to touch it before dinner then your gonna be in trouble" I then stick my tongue out at him.  "Anything you say babe" he then goes to make dinner.

I go to my room and put on the one piece that was bought and put it back on and looked at myself in my rooms mirror.  "I really do look sexy" I whisper to myself.  Then (y/b/n) comments start to come back and you feel some tears start to slip.  Thankfully I didn't have to think on it long as Dean called for Sam and I because dinner was ready.  I quickly try to grab some clothes and trip over my own feet.  I gotta get up and change. I push myself up and try to get dressed as quickly as possible but unfortunately things don't like to work out.  Dean walks into my room.

"I called for" Dean stops himself and looks me up and down the one-piece still on.  "Forgot dinner and Pie I think I found my full meal" Dean says flirtatiously.  " I quickly and finally throw clothes on overtop of the one piece.  "Let's just go eat dinner" I say not realizing it was quick and not my usual tone.  "Hey baby girl you alright?  I try to walk past him but he stops me.  "Yes I'm fine" he looks at me weird and walks us to sit on my bed.  "He wraps his arm around me and rubs my back soothingly.  "Do I not please you enough" I say and breakdown.  "Yeah sweetheart of course you do... what's all this about" he says cuddling into me.  "Its just we've never had sex and I feel so gross with myself and I bought the piece to feel sexy and to please you that my body isn't fat and bad" I cry and keep rambling.  "Baby girl your gorgeous, don't you ever say such things, whenever you wear something a bit revealing I'm always checking you out, even when you aren't I have to stop myself from always holding on.  "I'm so sorry for crying just a had a rough day, the bitch who used to bully me was there and she was saying stuff to get in my head and that she knew you and she said that she was the best fuck in your life" I continue to sob.  I then pull up a picture of (y/b/n) with shaky hands.  "Yeah I know her I helped her out because her fiance was really a vampire and it had been a long time since I had been laid while on the road...but that was years ago before I met you, I'm so glad that Chuck created you I never wanna leave you" Dean says and kisses me "how about we hang out in one of our rooms and I'll go get the food and bring it here and we can watch game of thrones re-runs" he kissed me again then went off.

I set up the tv and my bed with comfy blankets and got in and Dean brought dinner and the pie I had made.  He then climbed in cuddling with me and cuddles with me as I'm the "comfiest pillow ever" .  "We don't ever have to do anything you don't want to do right now baby girl" he says then feeds me some pie and shoves some in his mouth too.  I love this man and how good to me he is.