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#bloodstained men
redpillfuturist215 · 11 months
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Here we go again. Peacefully protesting, holding signs etc. - vulgar, affects other "people" ... let's talk about the effect of death for thousands of baby boys each year, botches, dismemberment, colic, PTSD and much more. FOH!
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liberty1776 · 1 year
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Bloodstained Men
Stop infant circumcision, it is child abuse and shoud be made illegal!
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heymacy · 3 months
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That's the first time I've felt anything since, uh.
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sinisteryuri · 4 months
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ok. tragically separated wwi era vampire twins.
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#seabirds.txt#seabirds.art#mystery twins#gemeos do misterio#q!bagi#q!cellbit#qsmp#i did research 1920s era clothing for this but i based a lot of it off of their mc skins.#cellbit is a sailor turned vampire who ended up in europe during wwi after fighting naval battles at sea and never came home#bagi becomes a journalist to find him and stumbles across vampires along the way not realizing he had become a vampire too#design notes: this all started off of bagi's newsboy cap which was popular in the 1920s with working men. i put her in men's pants because#wanted to give this energy of working a job traditionally not worked by women at the time. <- women started campaigning to work as#journalists notably around the late 1800s and early 1900s (at least in the us and some european countries (couldnt find info on brazil))#i was thinking of nellie bly when thinking of what bagi would be doing in this au! she also has a bandana to hide her neck where her vampir#bite would be and a hanky for blood clean up. perhaps something from home. cellbit is not concerned with hiding his own neck. he's just#wearing a dress shirt LOL. i feel like cellbit would be fully embracing his vampiric tendencies at this point and a part of more vampire#society than human while for bagi it would be the other way around (she's still looking for him in the human world using vampire resources)#that is why he is so bloodstained. i feel like in his free time he would be freelancing detective work for other vampires maybe to gather u#favors or something similar. he's a little bit fancy because of this but still casual enough that there's no suit involved.
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scraemoo · 8 months
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I love how we all just collectively
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when cubito Cellbit goes feral
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ventifrappa · 1 month
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he just looks sooo good covered in blood…
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God, I fucking hate Netanyahu so fucking much.
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beevean · 1 year
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Now I know that Isaac is the undisputed BDSM king but have you seen Zangetsu?
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Ehh, more than a BDSM king, I'd call him a Guts with Zuko's hair that stole Juste's coat. Still iconic, just in a different way :P
... well, okay, the choice to wrap himself in chains is certainly interesting... I don't know yet if it's Symbolic of his Tragic Past or something, or if he just woke up one day and decided that he'd look cool :P
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devouredmelancholy · 12 hours
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pavlien · 7 months
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not my dad saying "good, kill them all till they release the hostages" in response to me telling him israel is committing literal fucking genocide and ethnic cleansing against palestinians 😶
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sinner-as-saint · 1 month
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the alchemy
Mob!Bucky x Reader 
Run-through: About a decade ago you left your home and ran away, looking for a fresh start after having had your heart broken by the boy you loved. Now you’re back and turns out Bucky Barnes – the same man who once broke your heart – is adamant on tormenting you some more. But why? Why does he want you back at all cost when he was the one who once pushed you away and crushed your heart like it meant nothing to him? What secrets has he been keeping for almost a decade? Most importantly, what truly happened that night he broke your heart? 
Themes: forced marriage/marriage of convenience, angst, mob!bucky, metal arm, fluff, smut, possessive!bucky, childhood friends-to-enemies-to-lovers trope, bratty!reader, mentions of violence, explicit language, slow burn-ish, HEA 
a/n: new mob!bucky pics dropped–
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“I do.” You said in a sombre voice, with blood dripping from the cut on your lip as you sealed your fate and married your worst enemy. 
Bucky’s face was bleeding too, your nails had done some damage earlier when you both got into a physical altercation like wild animals. You nearly smirked when you realised he looked worse than you did. 
Then again you both looked like you went through hell as you stood here, at this makeshift altar, in the middle of what used to be the foyer of your father’s mansion before Bucky and his men shot at it until it was nothing but rubble, broken glass, and cracked marble. 
Messy hair. Cuts and bruises all over your bodies. Dishevelled clothes. Your white jumpsuit had your own bloodstains on it, and his all black suit was torn in certain places. But he looked every bit the man they say he is. Dangerous. Cold, dark presence. The large bruise on his jaw was beginning to get darker now, thanks to the many punches from you. His near shoulder length hair was surprisingly looking neat. It pissed you off. 
You looked like a mess too. And for a brief second, as his blue eyes looked down at your throat, you knew he could see a matching bruise forming around your neck from when he’d pinned you down to the floor earlier with that damned metal arm. 
No one was dead, none of your people and none of his. Thankfully. But right now, as you married the man standing in front of you, you felt dead inside. 
“You may now kiss the bride.” Was all you heard and you remained still as Bucky grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. 
You resisted for a moment, but then he pulled you harder until your chests collided and you had no choice but to remain pressed against him. “I’m tired of these games, princess.” He hissed in a lowered voice, looking down at you with his merciless blue eyes. 
You stared back at him with equal contempt. “You’re gonna regret this, Barnes.” You sneered, in a hushed voice. Not that the injured family members and men surrounding you – both his men and your father’s guards who stood and watched the show in disbelief and shock would mind the disrespect for each other in both your tones – but you didn’t want to add to the ridiculousness of this situation. 
“Oh?” He taunted with a faint smirk. Only then did you notice the small cut on his upper lip. It brought you a little solace. “You’re my wife now, you will do as I say.” 
The bitterness in your tone matched his as you said, “We’ll see about that, husband.” 
You could tell he’d accepted the unspoken challenge, and he would do anything to win. After all, everything was a game to Bucky Barnes. He didn’t care who he used, who he manipulated, or who he tossed aside. He paraded around like he owned this world and everything and everyone in it. 
Bucky scoffed then leaned in to kiss you, hard. It wasn’t a loving kiss in any way. It was possessive though. Like he was putting on a show for whoever was watching, making sure everyone in this dilapidated room understood that you were his now. 
You kissed him back, angrily. You despised him. Your entire family did. But they couldn’t save you this time. Bucky’s attack was unexpected. Your guards were unprepared. You were the last line of defence and this… union was necessary. You had to offer something, anything. Otherwise Bucky and his guys threatened to burn down your half of the city and turned it to ash immediately. 
But it wasn’t always like this. Your families used to be allies. You actually grew up with Bucky, he tolerated you enough back then and you had always had a crush on him. 
Then that night happened almost a decade ago… 
It was your twentieth birthday party, and your father made an announcement which you were not ready for. 
He announced to the ballroom filled with important people that you were to marry Bucky, and that both families were beyond happy to transform their friendship into something more solid through this alliance. 
You remained frozen in place for long minutes after that announcement was made, even though your heart raced like never before. No one had told you about this, but judging by the way your family hugged and congratulated Bucky’s family you understood that this was all planned. 
You kept that smile on your face though, as people walked over to congratulate you. You looked around and tried to find Bucky in the crowd to see if he knew about this but he was nowhere to be found. 
You were certain he was here just a moment ago, leaning against one of the pillars and brooding as always. And he’d just disappeared. 
The announcement made your heart flutter incessantly. After all, you’d always had a huge crush on Bucky. How could you not? He was the boy you grew up around, he had pretty eyes and nice hair. Sure he was broody and rarely ever smiled but you liked how it suited his bad boy personality. And your young heart was weak for the handsome boy with tattoos and blue eyes. 
After people were done congratulating you, you discretely walked out of the party and decided to look around and try to find Bucky. You hated how giddy you were. Sure, Bucky was broody and rarely ever laughed. He spent his entire time glaring at you then getting jealous when you talked to other guys. But you had liked him since forever. 
You looked all over your father’s mansion. Bucky was nowhere to be found indoors. So… maybe the pool area outside? You started walking in that direction, feeling like a princess in your white ball gown as you walked down an empty hallway, a faint smile on your face as you looked for the man you were meant to marry soon. 
Maybe Bucky knew about this announcement. Maybe he was okay with it. Maybe this would be your fairytale in real life, you thought. Maybe you’d melt his frozen heart and everything would be perfect. Maybe he liked you back all along and you just never knew! 
“...marry her?” 
Your smile vanished as you stopped right before you stepped outside onto the patio. Was that Bucky’s voice? Was he talking to someone? You quietly stepped closer, hiding behind the plants as you tried your hardest to listen to what he was saying. 
You could see him, standing on the black tiles by the pool. He had his back to you, and he held a phone to his ear. His broad shoulders and lean waist accentuated by how well that black suit moulded to his muscular body. You watched as he ran his fingers through his short black hair in frustration. 
Who was he talking to? 
“No!” He barked at the phone. “Did you not listen to what I just said? I don’t want to do this!” He yelled, not bothering that anyone around might hear him. “I tried to talk them out of it! This is so fucking stupid!” 
You blinked in surprise, unable to process what you were hearing. 
“I don’t care what I have to do, but I will not marry her.” He said with enough venomous certitude that a silent tear fell down your face. 
All your previous delusions turned to nothing but heavy disappointment. It made you feel stupid. This gown felt stupid. The diamonds around your neck, around your wrists and in your hair felt stupid. How stupid of you to think this was all going to end well? How stupid of you to think your childhood crush actually meant something? How stupid of you to think that there was a chance he liked you back? Of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t have ignored you for years if he did. 
You couldn’t stop the sudden sob that escaped your mouth. Afraid that he might have heard, you took a few steps back and hid behind a nearby, tall potted shrub. 
Things were quiet for a moment or two. You heard him whispering so quietly you couldn’t make out what he said. Your face burned in embarrassment at the thought of him finding you here. You already felt stupid and childish, you didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping in this situation. 
But then he resumed talking on the phone. You couldn’t risk moving to look at him so you remained hiding, and listened. Your heart broke with each word that left his mouth. 
“And she’s so blind she doesn’t even see it.” He hissed, louder this time. “I barely tolerate her. Her whiny, and bratty attitude. I mean she’s a grown woman and still acts like she’s daddy’s little princess.” He scoffed. “You should’ve seen her today, she looks like a kid’s toy with that ridiculous dress on.” 
More tears streamed down your face as you heard nothing but distaste and irritation in his voice. This was the boy you had a hopeless crush on? This is what he thought of you? 
You didn’t need to hear more. This was more than enough to completely break you so you turned around and quietly walked back down the same hallway. You wiped your tears, and put a fake smile on as you went back to your party. This time with a plan in your head. 
You endured the party with a heavy heart. Faked some more smiles until it ended. You didn’t see Bucky again for the rest of the night, which was good. By the early hours of the morning, everyone had left. You wandered around that empty ballroom like a ghost that night. For hours. Thinking, plotting. It was clear Bucky didn’t want this. And now neither did you. But your families had announced it. So what exactly could you do? 
By the time the sun rose, you had already written a note to your father and left it on his desk. By the time the sky brightened, your bags were packed and you were already driving out of the mansion grounds. And you knew that by the time your father would go into his office and find that note, you would already be on a plane, on your way out of here. 
You didn’t give too many details in the note. You simply said that you were leaving, not knowing when or if you’d be back. 
Truth was, you had no solid plans. All you knew was that you needed to get away from home. 
You didn’t know that when you’d return home – almost a decade later, so much would have changed. 
Your father was angry. Livid actually, that you’d been away for years without contact. You briefly explained why you needed to leave. And how you’d been able to make a name for yourself elsewhere. But after he was done berating you for what you did when you were twenty and stupid, he filled you in on all that you’d missed in the past decade almost. 
Some important points were: your family and Bucky were no longer allies, but were now each others’ worst rivals but no one knew that. The city was now secretly divided – your family ruled and controlled one side, and Bucky ruled the other. 
“It’s just him now?” You had asked, and your father nodded. 
“A lot happened after you left, actually–”
A loud noise cut him off. Rounds of bullets shot at the windows of the house, from all sides it seemed. And it was pure chaos. You could hear your guards fighting back, but even by just hearing the commotion you could tell you were severely outnumbered. 
But whoever it was, they weren’t shooting at anyone, just at windows – making enough noise to get your attention and to get you to come outside. 
You marched out of the room despite your father ordering you not to. And you were halfway down the grand stairs when he walked in and spotted you immediately with a smug look on his face. 
Bucky. Walked in like he owned the place. He stopped in the middle of the foyer, which was now ruined. Bits and pieces of concrete and glass all over the marble floor. Flower pots destroyed, the gilded mirror in pieces as well. He made a mess of the home you grew up in and you almost shot him right in the heart there and then. 
Here was the man who once broke your heart after making you think for years that maybe you had a chance. 
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hissed. You could hear your father coming to a stop on the landing several steps behind you. He was unprepared. You were armed with only one handgun tucked into your pocket. Your guards were outnumbered. This was a shitshow. 
The guards – his and yours – stopped firing and now just stood all over the place on high alert. And you knew, deep down in your gut you just knew something which you weren’t ready for was about to happen. 
“I see you’re finally home, princess.” Bucky just gave you a cold smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. The action drew your attention to one specific thing. The metal arm. You frowned at it in confusion, but didn’t react. 
But that word… ‘princess’ brought back memories which chased you out of this place. And it only fueled your anger. 
“What the fuck do you want?” 
He lifted his nose slightly in the air, like the arrogant prick he had always been. “I’m here to collect what I was promised.” His voice was strong and confident. “A bride. Now you have a choice, princess. Either we do this in peace and no one gets hurt, or…” 
He didn’t even have to finish his sentence because on cue, one of his guards sneakily appeared on the landing behind you, holding a gun to your father’s head. You froze for a moment. The look on your father’s face made everything so serious all of a sudden. You had to be extra careful here. 
“You wouldn’t.” 
He scoffed, “Wouldn’t I?” 
You argued, “It’s been almost a decade.” 
“I don’t care. We were supposed to marry each other–,” 
You cut him off, “Yes, and you didn’t want that, did you? I heard you on the phone that night.” You finally confessed. “By the pool. I remember every single word that came out of your fucking mouth. So don’t come here acting like you’re entitled to–,” 
“You think you know everything, don’t you?” He smirked, shaking his head. “Is that why you ran away? And didn’t come home for a decade? Because you spied on me that night and didn’t like what you heard?” 
That did it. One moment you were standing on the stairs, afraid that your father might get hurt and the next you had your gun out and shot right at his metal arm, knowing it wouldn’t hurt him but it would make him lower his guard for just a second. 
And that one second was enough to jump him and punch him right in the jaw. Fuck, it hurt but it also felt so damn good. All those years you’d been away, you were also training in your free time. And you knew you were good at combat. 
But so was he. A few punches in and he managed to throw you down on the floor and pin you to the ground with that same metal hand around your throat, keeping you in place. You didn’t know why his guards just stood and did nothing, as though they had been ordered not to shoot at anyone here. 
But you weren’t under any such orders, so you managed to land another punch to his jaw before he yelled, “Enough!” Right in your face. “Stop this shit, or I swear to–,” 
You cut him off by punching him again, trying to get free the moment you felt his metal hand get loose around your throat. He growled in annoyance and tightened his grip. 
“You’re like a wild fucking animal. Stop!” 
You gritted your teeth at the insult and scratched his face exactly like how a wild animal would. You tried everything, tried to punch him again, tried to scratch down his neck and arms which only tore his shirt instead of his skin. You went for yet another punch and only then did you feel another pair of arms – one of his guards – pulling your hands away from his face. You thrashed and tried your hardest to break free but you couldn’t and ended up biting your own lip rather badly in the process. 
“I fucking hate you, Bucky Barnes!” You hissed, defeated, and now with a bleeding, throbbing cut on your lip which matched his. 
Bucky kept his hand around your neck as he leaned in menacingly and whispered, “Hate me all you want, princess. But you will marry me. Right here. Right now.” 
And that’s how you found yourself kissing your husband, in the foyer of your father’s ruined mansion. With your helpless father, and the many guards as witnesses. 
You pulled away from the kiss, breathless and angrier than earlier. Jaws clenched, you were ready to tackle him to the ground again, maybe actually shoot him with your gun this time, but he spoke before you could say anything. 
“Let’s go.” He spoke, and like the loyal followers that they were, all of his guards silently walked out of your house. And Bucky grabbed your hand firmly in his and began pulling you out of the house as well. 
You resisted again. “Wait! You brute!” You pulled your hand away from his and ran back up the stairs to your father. “I ruined everything, I’m sorry.” 
He just hugged you and told you to be careful and be smart. And that he forgives you. You promised you’d come to see him soon. And then you left, refusing to take Bucky’s hand again as you walked out of your father’s house. 
You needed to think. You couldn’t fight him right now. Besides, it’s not like you married him legally. All Bucky wanted was to make a scene and you let him. For now. You’d need some time to come up with a plan and decide what needed to be done. But for now… 
“If you’re thinking about running away and disappearing for a decade again, you better stop. You’re not getting away this time. You hear me?” Bucky spoke, sitting next to you in the backseat of his car as the driver drove to his side of the city, to his house surely. That authoritative tone of his made you want to scratch his face again. 
“You seem to be under the impression that you’re in control here, Barnes. Just know, I could still shoot you right now if I wanted to.” You didn’t look at him, you looked out the window. At the city that had changed in your absence. 
“Ouch.” He faked his surprise. Then proceeded to put his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, leaning down he whispered into your ear, “That’s not a nice way of treating your new husband, now is it?” 
You gave him a fake smile, ignoring the way your brain thought he smelled delicious, and reached into your pocket to pull out your handgun. Placing the cold barrel right under his chin you said, “Try me, husband.” 
The driver cleared his throat in nervousness and you didn’t want to traumatise the man so you pulled your gun away but left it in Bucky’s line of sight. He pulled away then, pulling his hand away from your shoulders but placed his metal hand on your thigh. A possessive move. 
Yet that didn’t bother as much. But the metal hand? Where did that come from? What happened while you were gone? 
He answered your questions voluntarily. “Got caught in a crossfire. I got shot too many times, the arm was beyond saving. So I had the metal arm made. It’s a very intricate technology, but it works just fine.” He said, flexing the hand on your skin. 
You didn’t miss the hidden sexual connotation in that last part of his sentence. And you certainly couldn’t ignore the way your body responded to the cold, metal touch. It looked… badass. Not that you would ever tell him. 
You tried to look out the window again, but his touch on your thigh was more distracting than you wanted it to be. It was all you could focus on. Just to stop thinking about it you said, “I don’t have any of my things.” 
“It’s all been taken care of. Don’t worry.” He answered, looking down at his phone. Acting like he didn’t know his hand on your thigh was messing you up. 
Still you frowned at his answer, “What do you mean it’s been taken care of?” Then you paused and thought about it for a moment, “Did you–” You sighed, “You knew I was coming, didn’t you? Did you have people spying on me?” 
He shrugged, “You thought I would let my betrothed be out there in the world without keeping an eye on her?” He scoffed, looking up from his phone for a brief moment, “Of course I did. I know everything about you. I even know all about that secret, women-only army you created.” He added, “I was half expecting them to pop out of nowhere earlier at your father’s house.” 
You were in disbelief. This whole time you thought you’d hid well. But no. 
“Where are they anyway? Your girls?” He asked, and for once it didn’t sound like a taunt. It sounded like he was genuinely curious. 
“Probably out hunting and beheading men who think they can get away with forcing women into marrying them by threatening to kill their fathers.” You gave him another one of your fake smiles, “I’ve trained them well.” 
Bucky smiled back. “Well good. When they get here to try and free you, we could unite our forces. We’ll be untouchable then, you and I. I have the money and you have an army.” He winked. “Ultimate power couple.” 
“You won’t get away with this, Barnes.” 
He looked out of the window and said, “I just came to collect what was promised to be mine that night.” 
You argued, bitterly, “Oh we both know what happened that night.” 
“I do.” He said, “But do you? Do you really?” 
You remained quiet for a moment. This was the second time he questioned your knowledge of what truly happened that night. As if you hadn’t heard him loud and clear on that phone call. 
“You–,” 
He cut you off and looked out the window as he said, “We’re home.” 
It had been a long day. And you were running out of energy so instead of arguing some more, you just followed him out of the car and remained stunned for a moment as you looked at his house. It wasn’t his family home. This one seemed new. 
It was just as large as your father’s mansion, just a lot more contemporary compared to the more Georgian architecture-inspired one you grew up in. 
Bucky’s house sat on a sprawling green and pristine property. It was a perfect blend of sleek architecture and a glass house, which allowed the right amount of privacy but also allowed glimpses of the warm, farmhouse inspired interior. Even from outside you could tell it was homey and bright inside. 
Before you could get a word out, you felt his hands on you again. You tensed up and almost hit him again in defence but before you could, Bucky was carrying you bridal style – literally – and marching towards the large doors of his ridiculously pretty home. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” You questioned, squirming just a little in the intimate embrace. 
“Traditions,” He said, looking down at you, “Can’t have you trip at the doorstep and risk bringing bad luck into our marriage.” 
You frowned at him, reluctantly wrapping your arms around his neck for support. “You say ‘our marriage’ like it’s gonna be a real thing. It won’t, Barnes. I’ll be out of here before you–,” 
He used you to push open the door and the warm interior of the home shut you up. For some reason you never imagined someone like Bucky would live in a house that actually looked like a home. You pictured him living in some villain’s lair. 
But this was… beautiful. 
You squirmed into his arms until he finally set you down carefully. You stood there for a minute, in the foyer, just looking around. Then you couldn’t help but say, “It would be a real pain if someone just started shooting at the windows of your house like a madman, wouldn’t it?” You waved your gun in front of his face. 
“I’ll send people over tomorrow morning to fix your father’s house.” 
“You don’t even sound apologetic.” You scoffed. 
“I’m not.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Was it necessary? To shoot at my house like that? You couldn’t just, I don’t know, ring the doorbell to get me to come outside? You absolutely had to be a child?” 
He smirked then said, “First of all, that isn’t your house anymore. This is where you live now, and you will call this your home. Second of all, why blame me when you acted just as childish when you decided to run away all those years ago? Third of all, I did it because, well, I do like some drama.” 
You couldn’t not believe him. “You amaze me with your stupidity, Barnes.” 
“You amaze me with your bratty attitude, Mrs. Barnes.” 
You stepped closer to him, slow and in a threatening manner. “Don’t call me that.” 
“Don’t call me that.” 
You sighed, “You know you’re still that little boy who used to bully everyone when we played as kids.” 
He clarified, “No, I bullied you because you were annoying. Everyone else was fine.” 
“I hate you.” You said with enough hostility you hoped it would shut him up. 
It didn’t. “Well, see.” He took your hand in his and said slowly as if talking you down, “That’s something we’ll work on together as a couple.” 
You pulled your hand away and were so tempted to just– 
“Come,” he said, “I’ll show you where our room is.” You began protesting immediately but he cut you off by saying, “Stop being fucking difficult. We’re married now, act like it.” 
“I want a separate room!” 
“No.” 
“I’m not sleeping with you!” 
“Then don’t. But you will sleep in my bed. Like my wife should.” 
“You’re a fucking animal!” You tried tugging your hand free from his grasp. 
Bucky had had enough. So he pinned you to the nearest surface, which happened to be the closed door of his bedroom. He grabbed both your wrists in his metal hand and pinned them above your head. His face was just inches away from yours, and he stared deep into your eyes. 
Your mind immediately went to that harsh kiss you’d shared earlier. And you hated how your body squirmed just as the thought of it. You refused to think about it any more, but his mouth was just so, so close. The cut on his lip, the slight stubble on his cheek and around his mouth, the texture of his skin, you were picking up on details you’d missed. 
Bucky spoke in a calm, deep voice which sent shivers down your spine. “Let’s be adults here, okay? You stop acting like a brat, and I’ll stop treating you like one.” He said, pressing his chest into yours. “It’s been a long day, and I know you’re running out of energy as well so stop resisting me. If I was an animal, I would’ve dragged you to bed right now and would’ve made you mine in every sense of the word.” He whispered, his voice cold and dangerous. “But I’m not. So you will walk into this room, and head straight for a warm shower and after you’re done we’re gonna clean these wounds. Am I clear?” 
You nodded quickly, like an idiot entranced by his gorgeous voice. 
“Use your words, princess. Am I clear?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good. Let’s go.” 
— 
You leaned against the counter, wrapped in a fluffy robe and another towel wrapped around your wet hair, and Bucky was cleaning the cut on your lip. 
His wounds were all cleaned. It looked like he had used a different shower while you were in here. His long hair was damp and tied into a small bun, with strands of his dark hair falling on either side of his face. He had changed into a tight black t-shirt and PJ trousers. It was frustrating to look at him. Because he looked so damn good. 
Last time you’d seen him was when he was a twenty year old boy. He’d changed since. He seemed taller somehow. Or maybe it was just the muscles making him look bigger. 
You couldn’t look away from the metal arm. And the intricate details on it. 
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asked, throwing the used cotton balls and napkins in the trash can. 
You didn’t miss the way he was being gentle all of a sudden. Calm voice, calm movement. Very different from the man who’d forced you to marry him just hours ago. 
“No.” You answered, turning around to look in the mirror. The bruise on your neck was very much visible now. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you again, you didn’t notice how close he got, not until he reached out and touched your neck with his warm fingers. 
And for the first time, he sounded genuine when he said, “I’m sorry. About that.” 
You met his eyes through the mirror and remained quiet for a moment. For a brief moment you thought back to that night. What if you hadn’t heard him on the phone? What if you had married him back then? Would this be a normal, daily thing? Sharing a bathroom, a bed? 
“I punched you. Multiple times. This makes us equal.” 
Bucky scoffed, then nodded. Then said, “Come to bed when you’re done.” And left you alone in the bathroom. 
Shit. You stared at yourself in the mirror. What a day. All you wanted was to pay your father a visit and maybe spend some days at home and then fly back to where you came from. Having your father’s house be attacked, getting married, and having to share a bedroom with the man who once broke your heart… yeah, all that wasn’t in the plan. 
You changed into some comfy PJs Bucky had brought you earlier and walked out into the bedroom. You found Bucky on his phone again, standing by the foot of the bed. 
“Which side do you sleep on?” He asked, not looking up from his phone. 
“Uh, right.” You answered, because for some reason now he felt the need to ask for your opinion. 
Bucky didn’t say a word as he moved to the left side of the bed and peeled back the covers before getting in. Like this was just another day. Like this was normal. You awkwardly walked to your side of the bed and just stood there for a moment. 
“Just get in bed. I won’t touch you.” 
He didn’t even look at you as he spoke and, well, the lack of attention from him bothered you. Oh what the hell. You pulled the covers and got under them. You curled onto your side, with your back facing him. 
Soon, you heard him click something and all the lights turned off. You sensed movement behind you but that was it. He didn’t touch you. In fact, there was so much distance between you two that your back felt cold. And now that annoyed you as well. 
You couldn’t sleep. 
An hour went by, you still couldn’t sleep. 
Another hour went by, and now you’d begun tossing and turning so much that you heard Bucky groaning. 
“Will you stop that?” 
“I can’t sleep.” You mumbled.
“Don’t make it my problem. Stop moving.” 
“Wow. Some husband you are.” 
Silence. Then you felt your body sliding across the bed as Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm chest. 
“What the–,” 
“Shh.” He cut you off, his warm breath tickling your cheek as he spooned you from behind. “It’s cold. We could both use the warmth. Now go to sleep.” 
You scoffed, but didn’t move. “Your fancy house doesn’t have a thermostat? Fix the temperature.” 
“I like this better.” 
“I better not find your hands wandering.” 
You moved around for a bit, finding a comfortable spot. Then you moved some more and Bucky tightened his arm around you and whispered into your ear, “Stop wiggling against my cock. I understand it’s our wedding night and all but I’m too tired to do anything.” 
Your face burned in embarrassment. You tried to put some distance between your bodies, even though you liked his body heat, but thankfully Bucky pulled you right back. 
“Did I say you can move?” He chided. 
“What now, I need your permission to get comfortable in bed?” 
“Brat.” 
“Asshole.” 
— 
You didn’t know when you fell asleep at night. But the heat from Bucky’s chest definitely helped. It must’ve been that. And in the middle of the night, you must’ve searched for more heat. That was probably the only reason why you woke up and found yourself sprawled all over him, face into the crook of his neck and both your hands under his shirt, legs tangled with his. 
“You call me an animal. But look at you. Touching me while I was sleeping.” He mumbled. “Shameless.” 
You pulled away so fast, but then regretted it. Because now you missed his warmth. You shivered even under the covers. “Would it kill you to keep your damn house a little warmer?” 
He just yawned and got out of bed. “Get ready.” He said, “We might have a guest coming over. And you have to be a good little wife and play host.” 
“Fuck you.” 
“Oh you will.” He teased, “Soon.” Then he winked and walked out of the room. 
Well, he at least was giving you some privacy and let you have this bathroom all to yourself. Screw his and his mind games. First he barges into your house, forces you to marry him, then cuddles you to sleep. 
You caught yourself frowning multiple times while you showered, did some skin care, and found the closet on the other side of the room. You weren’t even surprised when you found a whole section filled with all you could need. All the shoes seemed like they would fit you, all the outfits as well. 
Nothing fazed you anymore. Not even the fact that your new husband might be a bit of a stalker. How else would he know your underwear size!? And there were drawers full of them. 
You tried not to worry too much as you got dressed. You were gonna get out of here soon anyway. 
Once dressed and ready for the day, you got downstairs and immediately heard Bucky’s voice, along with another voice. They were laughing over something. You found out where they were and approached the high-ceilinged, charming, farmhouse-inspired kitchen which blended with a spacious, cosy dining area. 
The other man had his back to you, but you knew that voice. Even though you hadn’t heard it in years. 
“Sam?” You couldn’t help but call out, lingering by the large doorway. Bucky remained leaning against the kitchen counter with a coffee mug in his hand, while Sam got up from where he sat at the breakfast counter. 
He turned around and his familiar, warm brown eyes met yours. He gave you a comforting smile. You, Sam, and Bucky all grew up together, along with some other kids from families similar to yours. And Sam had always been a sweetheart. You’d missed him. 
So you didn’t even hesitate to walk right into his arms once he opened them, wanting a hug. You squeezed him tight and said, “I thought I’d never see you again, Sammy!” 
Sam hugged you back just as tight, “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in almost a decade.” He pulled away to look down at you before giving you a loud kiss on the cheek. Safe to say, he was just as handsome as he was when you left this place. “How have you been?” 
You looked over Sam’s broad shoulder and found a broody Bucky. “I’ve been better.” 
Sam got really serious, and was about to say something but Bucky’s voice rumbled from behind. “That’s enough hugging and smooching. Sam, stop touching my wife.” 
“Ooh, your wife.” Sam teased, before letting go of you and letting you walk out of his arms. “First of all, why didn’t you tell me you two were planning to get married this whole time?” He asked Bucky in an accusatory tone. “My childhood friends got married and I wasn’t even invited.” 
Sam sat back down at the breakfast counter, so he didn’t see the questioning stare you sent Bucky. So Sam wasn’t aware of the circumstances under which you got married? Of course he didn’t. Nobody knew, and Bucky wasn’t about to tell anyone 
“It all happened so quickly, Sam.” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as you said, “Bucky was… impatient. Even my father didn’t have time to prepare much. It all just, you know, happened.” You spoke as you helped yourself to some breakfast, taking a seat at the table where you could see both men well. 
You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s jaws kept clenching and unclenching as you tiptoed the line between telling the truth and lying to Sam. 
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “I know how impatient he can be.” He glared at Bucky, who shook his head in disbelief. 
“I take it you two work together now?” You only asked because you remember how the parents would always talk about how wonderful it would be if these two boys worked together. Apparently they made a great team back then. 
“We do.” Bucky answered, placing his mug down before turning around and began chopping some things. 
“You see,” Sam began explaining in a playful tone. “After everything happened, Bucky was all along. Poor little princeling with no guidance and a kingdom to run.” You saw Bucky shaking his head at Sam’s words. Sam continued, “So I knew I had to step in and become his mentor. He wouldn’t have survived without me.” 
You made a mental note to ask about what ‘everything’ he was referring to, but couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie between them, despite it all. Sam had always been a good company. He was the sun rays filtering through dark clouds, and Bucky was the dark, gloomy day who needed the sun’s brightness. 
“Wouldn’t have survived.” Bucky muttered, mocking his friend. “You helped me train sometimes. You introduced me to people. That’s about it.” He clarified, bringing over a bowl of chopped fruit over to you and pushed it towards you without a word said. 
You liked fruits for breakfast. And you assumed he remembered. But he did it all too casually. As if he did it every day. You didn’t want to cause a scene so you accepted the bowl quietly. 
“That’s about it?” Sam shook his head, then turned to you. “I took care of him like a parent–,”
“No you didn’t. You–” 
“–and this is how he treats me. I should’ve let you bleed out from that bullet wound that one time. Maybe you wouldn’t be here disrespecting me then.�� 
You chuckled, clearly on Sam’s team. Bucky didn’t like that. “What about my wife then? Who would be taking care of her?” 
“I would.” Sam answered without missing a beat. “We all know if not you then I was gonna marry her.” He turned to you, knowing damn well he was gonna get a reaction out of Bucky any time now. Sam lived to mess with Bucky after all. He always did, ever since you were all kids. “Wouldn’t you have married me if Bucky had died?” He asked you with that mischievous smile on his face. 
“I–,” 
“You answer that and you’ll never see Sam again.” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes at you, before you couldn’t get a word out of your mouth. 
Sam smirked triumphantly. 
You rolled your eyes at Bucky and looked right at Sam and said, “I would’ve married you in a heartbeat, Sammy.” 
Sam went to grab your hand, surely to bring it up to his lips for a kiss, but Bucky threw a napkin right at him before he could. 
“You touch my wife again and I swear–,” 
“Must you always threaten people?” You asked, glaring at Bucky. 
He glared back. And opened his mouth to say something but Sam cut him off. “Hey, hey, kids. No fighting.” He quickly changed the topic, “Now, since you have gotten married and no one was there, how about a party? To announce it to everyone? We could invite the whole city.” 
Party. Yeah right. The last time you attended an extravagant party you had your heart broken. Not just broken, but stepped onto and crushed to a pulp. 
You went to say no, “Maybe we shouldn’t–,” 
But Bucky declared, “Absolutely we should. After all, we waited almost a decade to marry each other.” He looked right at you as he said that. “It’s time everyone knows you’re finally mine.” 
“Perfect!” Sam began planning immediately. He had always been the life of all parties, and he loved them. 
While you occasionally answered his questions, you didn’t stop glaring at your husband while you finished your breakfast. There was something he was hiding. You were certain of it. But what? 
— 
A couple days later, it was finally the night of the party. 
The past few days had been more or less similar. You’d always wake up sprawled all over Bucky’s chest, and he always made a teasing comment about it. You’d have breakfast in silence, after which he’d disappear and then he’d come home in the evenings. You never talked while having dinner. 
The one time you did talk, it didn’t end well. 
You brought it up at dinner. “I tried to go out today. Your people followed me into the city.” 
“Our people.” He corrected. Bucky didn’t find anything wrong with that apparently because he simply said, “And they’re your security detail. They’ve been ordered to follow you.” 
“So I don’t escape?” 
“So you’re always safe.” 
“Oh come on. You can’t keep me here forever.” 
He shrugged, “You’re not being kept. This is your home, we’re married. This is where you live now.” 
You stood up from the table.You didn’t care that the housekeepers you’d been recently introduced to could hear. “And who are you to make that decision for me?” You asked, in a surprisingly calm tone. 
He replied in a similar tone. “Your husband.” 
You sighed, trying your hardest to keep it all contained. “I have a life, you know? A totally separate life I’ve been living since I left this place. I have to get back to it at some point. You proved your point. Now let me go.” 
He ignored all of that. “I’m working on transferring all your businesses and staff here.” He announced. “I’m buying a brand new building in the city, you can have it and set it up however you want. The only thing I can’t find is your secret army of highly trained soldiers.” 
“You’ll never find my girls.” 
“Why’s that?” 
“They’re trained to outrun men like you. All men, in fact.” You added, “I made sure of that. I made sure they’d never be used and moved around like pieces on a chessboard then discarded by people like you.” 
“Sounds like you speak from experience.” 
“Fuck you, Barnes.” You spat before walking away. 
You made sure to sleep on the very edge of the gigantic bed that night, as far away from him as possible. But in the morning, you still woke up snuggled into his chest, on his side of the bed, like you’d been trying to burrow under his skin seeking warmth at night. 
You didn’t speak after that. You made sure to ignore him. Each time you left the house, to go see your father or to just roam around the city you’d missed so much, you’d look in the rear view mirror and find big, bulky SUVs following you around. 
And here you were now, after days of silent treatment, you stood in front of the large mirror in the closet of your bedroom and watched your reflection. Of course the bastard had chosen an extravagant evening gown for you to wear which looked eerily similar to the one you wore that night for your birthday almost ten years ago. 
Except this one was much more elegant. And looked a lot like a wedding dress. With its simple square neckline, thin straps, fitted bodice and a majestic skirt. All white and sparkly. The last time you felt like a princess, the night ended terribly. So this time you were afraid to even let yourself appreciate the beautiful woman in the mirror who stared back at you. 
You kept fidgeting, with the skirt of the dress, watching it swish around. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you from behind. Not until he stood right behind you, his chest brushing against your slight exposed back. 
He looked… unreal in his all black suit. Shiny black tie and a small shiny pin. His hair was perfect as always, and his all black outfit really made his eyes seem bluer than ever. Or maybe it was the lights in this closet that did it. But it made you notice the lines by his eyes, which gave away just how much time had gone by. 
He was still that bad boy with tattoos whom you had a crush on, who made your race whenever he looked at you. Except now he was older, meaner. And your husband. Whom you hated. 
Did you? 
You tensed up when he placed a hand on your waist, right where the bodice and skirt were sewn together. You met his eyes through the mirror, but said nothing. You had no mean words to throw at him this time and neither did he. 
“You look beautiful.” He said, leaning in just a little to rest his cheek against your temple. 
You froze at the soft touch which drove you insane. You must be ovulating, you thought, because there was no way that mere touch was making your heart race like this for no other reason. You began breathing faster, that’s how fast your heart was racing. 
You almost leaned into his touch, ready to forget it all just for one moment of warmth. Of peace and quiet. Just one moment to appreciate that you looked beautiful and you had your husband’s attention and all was well. To appreciate that you two look great together. To stop fighting this weird alchemy between you two which kept drawing you to one another no matter what. But then you remembered. 
“Do I?” You asked, keeping your voice steady. “You sure I don’t look like a kid’s toy with this ridiculous dress on?” 
He remembered too, judging by the look on his face. He looked surprised, then briefly apologetic before settling on a familiar, broody frown. “What did I say about being a brat?” 
“I’ll stop being a brat when you stop being an asshole.” You scoffed. “You always were so… careless. With people. With everything. Always thinking you were above everyone else, ever since we were just kids.” You added, “I hate you.” 
He smirked, then grabbed your elbow and turned you around so he could look at you, or glare at you with his ocean blue eyes. “You didn’t hate me back then, did you?” He pushed you against the closest surface, which happened to be a wooden dresser. “You craved my attention back then. You used to find excuses to hold my hand when we were little. When we got older you used to hate it when I looked at other girls at school. Now look at you. You’re in my house, you sleep in my bed.” He leaned in, whispering in your ear, “You’re my wife. Then why do you keep resisting me, hmm?” 
“I was stupid back then. Wasted so much time trying to get your attention, and all I ever was to you was a whiny, bratty–,” You cut yourself off with a surprised gasp as you watched Bucky lower to his knees in front of you, his hands lifting the skirt of your dress. He was rough with it, crumpling it in his strong fists. “What are you doing?” You asked, shocked and surprised but not making a move to get away. “You– you’re ruining my dress.” 
He looked up at you, bunching some of the fabric near your waist and holding the front part of your dress up, pinning the bunched up skirt at your abdomen. As if he wanted to– 
Your entire face burned when you realised just how close and intimate this was. 
“I bought this dress. I’ll ruin it if I want to.” He spoke in that arrogant tone you weren’t sure you entirely hated at this moment. “You’re lucky I’m not tearing it off of you.” 
“And you’re lucky I’m not–,” 
He cut you off by leaning in and kissing your inner thigh. Just like that. As if you weren’t on the verge of arguing just now. You were still processing that soft kiss he left on your thigh, and he was already moving to spread your legs apart as he slowly looked up, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop or push him away. 
You didn’t. 
His eyes remained focused on your face as his hand reached out and he ran his metal knuckles between your legs, along your wet folds through your thin underwear, making you shudder at his mere touch. You flinched at the cold, but didn’t pull away. 
“You’re dripping.” He commented, slowly sliding down your underwear. “Does arguing with me turn you on, baby? Is that why you do it all the time?” He smirked, finally throwing your underwear to the side. 
You glared at him, opening your mouth to argue yet again but you ended up just letting out a soft moan as you felt his metal fingertips gently trail up and down your legs. He chuckled at how sensitive and responsive you were. Bucky placed a kiss on your inner thigh again and you gasped.
“Looks like you haven’t been taken care of in a while.” He said, moving his fingers over your clit, circling it slowly. “Have you?” He sounded like he was accusing you.
“No.” You hissed, angry at how much you didn’t mind his touch. “You barged in and married me before I could go out and find someone who might–,” 
“I tolerate you talking to and about Sam because he’s our friend.” He cut you off. “But if I hear you talking about any other man, I promise I will be committing unnecessary crimes and it’ll all be on you.” He paused, glaring at you. “You hear me?” 
You nodded. Fuck he looked good from up here. 
He held your stare as he leaned in and placed his mouth to your core, giving your clit a firm such before his warm tongue slipped past your folds and teased your dripping hole. One hand holding part of your dress up while the metal one worked in tandem with his tongue, circling your throbbing clit and parting your wet folds with ease. 
“Should’ve known you’d taste like fucking heaven,” He whispered, almost to himself. 
You couldn’t hold the moans and whimpers in, feeling his stubble rubbing against your soft skin, craving more of it. You couldn’t help but slide hesitant fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “Please, more…” You whined. 
That made him wild. And he ate you out relentlessly, taking his time and learning what worked for you and what didn’t, until your legs were shaking and your moans were louder. 
He slid his fingers, just a knuckle deep inside you and watched how much you loved that. “That feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” 
You only whimpered in response. 
When he was certain you were right on the edge, hips moving in a frantic way which made you grind against his fingers and tongue, only then did he pull away and let go of your dress before standing back up to face you with a condescending smirk. 
“You think it’s that easy?” He spoke, but you focused more on the wetness coating his lips rather than his words. 
You blinked a couple of times to break out of whatever spell he’d just put you under using that damned mouth and fingers of his. He’d… he’d dared bring you right to the edge. But hadn’t let you come. 
You were breathing heavily, feeling hot and tingly all over. 
He chuckled, enjoying the speechlessness which was rare when it came to you. “If you want more, then behave tonight. Be good and tell everyone how in love we are and all the nice things, and I promise I’ll take care of you later tonight. Okay?“
You knew what he was doing. He wanted you to tell as many people as possible because the more people knew, the harder it would be for you to sneak out of this place again. 
He didn’t even wait for a response. He just licked his lips clean, shamelessly holding your stare while he did. Then turned to the mirror and fixed his suit before bending down to pick up your discarded underwear. You looked away, embarrassed but waiting for him to hand it to you. 
Except he didn’t. He pocketed it like it was nothing and said, “Come on, our guests are waiting.” Then he walked out of the room like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t made you almost lose your mind just minutes ago. Like he didn’t have his tongue and fingers inside you. Like he hadn’t gotten so close to making you come. 
Like your heart wasn’t still racing even after he’d left the room. 
Eventually, you calmed down. Fixed your makeup, hair and dress again before heading towards the temporary, clear outdoor party tent Sam had people install in Bucky’s huge backyard. The closer you got, the more it looked straight out of a fairytale. Given the clear walls, you could see the golden lights and decor inside. 
The chandeliers, the floral arrangements, the tables and the dance floor where people danced with their partners. 
Speaking of partners, there by the entrance stood a tall, dark figure. Your husband. 
“Took you a while.” He muttered once you got close enough to him. 
You stopped by his side and sighed. Then answered in a monotone voice, trying to hide how bothered you were. “Well, some conceited asshole left me to deal with a mess he made so there’s that.” 
Bucky snickered. “Don’t act so indifferent. You were dripping all over my tongue and hand just minutes ago.” 
“Keep your voice down.” You hissed. 
“Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not taboo for a husband to take care of his wife, you know?” He sounded just as annoying as you expected he would. 
You looked down and noticed he had his elbow extended out for you to take. You took it and spoke once you two began walking into the venue. “If you think you are getting anywhere near me to take care of me again, husband, you are dead fucking wrong.” You put a fake smile on as people began noticing your arrival and flocked to you. 
Bucky whispered one last thing into your ear before he left you in the care of the excited, curious, and loud group of ladies coming your way, “Oh you’ll beg me to touch you soon enough, wife.” 
Then he was gone again. Leaving you right on that edge again. 
Damn him! 
You had to give it to Sam, he knew how to organise a party. The decor, the food, the music, the performances, all of it was perfect. 
He even re-introduced to all the people you might have forgotten while you were gone. And naturally everyone had questions. You repeated the same answers to them all. The same lies. 
Where were you this whole time? You wanted to do your own thing, and make your own name so you decided to get away from home. 
Why did you leave right after it was announced that you were to marry Bucky Barnes? Oh your father never said when you were to marry him. He just said you would. Besides, both you and Bucky were too young to marry back then. 
Did Bucky know you were going to be gone? Of course he did! You two were childhood sweethearts after all. Yes, you did keep in touch this whole time and only fell more and more in love. Yes, distance does make the heart grow fonder and all. 
Why did the wedding happen so suddenly and in secret? After almost a decade of being far apart from each other, you two could no longer wait anymore. So you eloped the day you came back. 
There are rumours that your father and Bucky have some kind of tension going on between them, is any of it true? That was the one question you didn’t feel too confident about. Because your father never ended up telling you why that was. How did the rivalry start? You lied and said, it’s just because you eloped. Your father wanted to be involved but you were too in love to think straight. So now your father was giving your poor husband a hard time for stealing his little girl. 
As you paraded around and met everyone, you could feel Bucky’s eyes on you at all times. You didn’t have to look to know. You could feel the burning sensation along your back and you just knew he was watching you. 
And he watched all night. Up until the moment people began leaving and you had no choice but to find him again, not knowing what else to do. 
“You lie very well.” He commented, holding his elbow out for you to take again. 
You did. And also leaned into him a little because you had been standing for too many hours. You decided to ignore the hostility for just a minute. “Yes, I’m a natural.” 
“Everyone bought your bullshit about how we are childhood sweethearts turned lovers.” He whispered, turning his head to face you. 
“Well, you did say to make it believable.” 
“Oh it is.” He boasted, “Especially since you’ve been looking at me like that the whole night.” 
You rolled your eyes, “How?” 
“With longing, and desire. You’re all hot and bothered. You crave my tongue back on that throbbing little clit, don’t you?” 
“You’re delusional, Barnes.” 
“And you’re dripping wet for me, Mrs. Barnes.” 
— 
The party ended, and after Sam left you and Bucky made your way back inside the house. Sam, being the angel that he was, had made sure a clean up crew would be here early the next morning so you had nothing to worry about. 
Not that it should bother you whether or not Bucky’s house is tidy. 
You had a faint smile on your face as you went about your nighttime routine. Shower, skin care, a quick snack in the kitchen. And while you were downstairs, searching the pantry for something sweet, you saw Bucky near the thermostat. 
The pantry hid you well, so Bucky didn’t see you. But you watched him mess with the temperature. You squinted and realised he was lowering it. The damned bastard was making it colder! No wonder you were freezing each night and woke up each morning snuggled up to him, basking in his warmth. 
This asshole. 
You remained in hiding until Bucky left, and this time as you made your way upstairs you vowed you wouldn’t reach for his warmth. No matter how cold it got. And he wouldn’t get to use you as a personal heated blanket either. Let him freeze. 
You barely lasted thirty minutes under the covers. 
And he was quiet and didn’t move so you thought he was asleep already as you carefully scooted a little bit closer, trying to feel where he was in the dark. If only this bed wasn’t so damn big. You patted around, trying not to move to much as you– 
“I can hear you, you know? If you want to cuddle, just say it.” 
You stopped moving immediately. “Shut up.” You muttered, frowning at him even though he couldn’t see it. You could see his faint silhouette in the dark, so you knew when he turned on his side to face you. 
“What is it, wife? You need some warmth on this cold, cold night?” He asked in that mocking tone of his. 
“No.” You answered, lying. Because yes you did. 
He muttered ‘stubborn brat’ under his breath and then grabbed you and pulled you close until your back was completely pressed against his chest. His warm, comfy chest. You bit back a sigh of relief once you felt his body heating wrapping you in a cocoon. 
“I saw you messing with the thermostat.” You admitted. 
“Oh?”
“Yes. You make it cold on purpose.” 
“Oh no.” He mocked. “ Why didn’t you fix it then?” He asked, and it hit you how childish this was. He leaned in just enough so that his lips brushed against your cheek when he spoke. “Could it be that you like cuddling with me?” 
“Shut up.” 
He scoffed, finally wrapping his arms around you, but you hissed upon feeling his metal arm on your body.  
“It’s cold.” 
“Warm it up for me then.” 
“What–” 
You stopped talking the moment Bucky grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on top of his, spreading your legs to make room for his hand as you both remained on your sides, with him spooning you from behind. 
His metal hand found itself sliding into your shorts, past your underwear and he cupped you with such confidence and authority that you couldn’t help leaning into and grinding into his touch. His other hand slid under your pillow and down so he could grab and give your breast a firm squeeze. 
Fuck. His hands felt like they were touching you everywhere. 
“I told you I’d take care of you if you behaved.” He whispered into your ear. “Time for a little reward, wife.” 
He slid two fingers inside you, you gasped at the feeling of him being knuckles deep inside you. You whined as he stretched you a little, moving his fingers around until your hips were moving on their own, trying to get him to move some more. 
He chuckled. “That feels good?” He murmured into your ear. 
His voice, his warmth, the softness of his embrace, the unhurried way his fingers were moving in and out of you, sliding over your clit and stroking your walls like he had all the time in the world. 
Your hands wrapped around his metal wrist, keeping his hand in place as you rode his fingers the way you wanted. Hips moving forward and causing his fingers to slide in and out, while you moaned and whimpered. 
His lips brushed against your cheek over and over again as he whispered against your skin, “See how nice it is when you behave? Hmm? You can have me whenever you want, baby. Just be good for me, and I’ll do anything for you.” 
The animosity between you was forgotten at this moment. Here, in this dark room the past didn’t matter for a few minutes. Nothing mattered, just that you wanted something and he was giving it to you. 
His thumb caressed your clit, teasing it a little more until you cried out, “Bucky, please…” 
He froze. You did too. Then he chuckled and said, “So all is takes is a little finger fucking and now you have manners and you call me by my name?” He sounded just as annoyingly playful as you knew he would. 
“Oh fuck you!” You spat, then immediately let out a loud moan as he sped up and really fucked you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess. “Please, please, please…” 
“What did I say, huh?” He hissed. “Keep acting like a fucking brat and you’ll be treated like one.” He kept his fingers moving in and out of you. “I planned on really taking care of you tonight, but you know what? This is all you’re gonna get.” 
Your moans and whimpers got louder and louder until you began clenching around his fingers, coming undone with a loud cry of his name. Body shaking and your hips grinding down on his hand as you savoured the last moments of your orgasm before he pulled out and pulled away from you. 
You thought he’d go right back to sleep but then you felt him get out of bed. “Where are you–,” 
“I’ll fix the temperature.” He mumbled, sounding annoyed. Rightfully so. “Go to sleep.” 
And that was the last you heard or saw of him until the morning because you passed out right after. You didn’t even know if he returned to bed or not. Not that you cared much. 
Right? 
— 
Things changed after that night. 
A lot changed actually. Bucky had, miraculously, managed to uproot ten years of your life from elsewhere and planted it right here in the city. He took you to the building he’d been getting ready for you and it sure was something. You didn’t know what you expected but a brand new skyscraper was not what you had in mind. 
The day he handed over papers and keys and gave you a tour of the huge building was the first time you felt a shift in this… bond you shared with him. 
“Thank you.” You simply said as you both stepped into the shiny elevator so he could take you all the up to the top floor, to show you to your new office. 
Bucky slid his hands in his pockets and turned to face you. “You think being nice equals sexual favours from me, wife?” 
You could’ve told him to shut it. Or told him to go get fucked. But he was trying to be good to you, wasn’t he? Even after all he did, he wanted you next to him for some unknown reason and frankly you were tired of resisting. Your entire life was here now anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to… try. Would it? 
So instead you answered with, “Doesn’t it?” 
Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, searching for the catch. He didn’t find any so he said, “We’ll see about that.” 
And that night he followed you into the shower and kissed you hard under the falling water. “I see you behaved yourself today.” He whispered against your mouth. 
You pulled him closer by grabbing his neck and said, “Do I get a reward then?” 
He didn’t say anything, just kissed you hard again and walked the two of you backwards until your back collided with the cold clear glass of the shower cubicle. Then he pulled away, looked down into your eyes. His own filled with lust and hunger as he asked, “You’re gonna let me fuck you?” 
You nodded quickly before saying, “Yes. Please.” 
He didn’t waste a single moment. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it to his hip, spreading you open. He kissed you senseless again while he pushed inside of you. You moaned into the kiss as he filled you up, his cock stretching you out, making you whine and whimper as he slow fucked you. 
“Fuck…” He breathily moaned against your open mouth while he moved against you. Pushing deeper, in and out of you until your moans and whimpers got louder and louder. The sound of the water falling from the shower drowned out most of it, so he fucked you until you moaned loud enough that he could hear you over the falling water. 
“Please,” You cried out. Weeks of frustration wanting to be let out. “Please, Buck…” Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, and you held on while he fucked you. 
Bucky almost froze again at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips. But he maintained his composure and sped up into you, feeling your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock. 
“You’ve been good today,” He said, noticing the way you clenched around him hard at the sound of praise. “You didn’t talk back, not once. Is it because you wanted this cock, baby?” 
You whined in response. Feeling his damp skin rubbing against yours, and for a brief moment you wanted to live in this moment forever. 
“Oh, poor baby.” He gave you a messy, heated kiss then said, “It’s all yours, you know? You just have to ask nicely. And you can have it whenever you want.” 
“Please…” You begged again, your pride nowhere in sight. “Please, Bucky.” 
“Come for me, baby…” He breathed against your skin. His hands held you in place as he pounded into you. “Come for me.” 
You did, moaning so loud it was all he heard as he came right after you. 
— 
It became a daily thing over the next few weeks. You’d seek Bucky out at random times during the day or more often right when he’d get into bed at night. 
“Were you good today, wife?” He asked, his hands already moving all over you trying to undress you as fast as he could. 
“Yes,” You breathed into his ear, your hands touching him all over his tattooed chest. “I even made you breakfast, remember?” 
“Those burnt pancakes count?” 
You shut him up by kissing him, pulling him down onto the bed and straddling him, then proceeded to ride him until you were both moaning and spent, too tired to move. 
Things got… playful. 
Oftentimes you’d catch yourself wondering why you weren’t actively working to get out of here. But your whole life was here now. Work, your family, and your husband. You didn’t hate Bucky as much as you thought you would. Just a few months ago you wanted to kill him on sight but now… 
“I saw the new building you work at. He bought you that?” Your father asked one morning when you went over to join him for breakfast. 
You cleared your throat and answered, “He did. He moved everything here. My businesses, my staff, all of it.” 
“And the girls?” He asked, referring to the infamous, feared, and fierce army you had raised and trained over the last ten years. 
“My girls are free to go wherever they want to.” You let pride fill you as you thought of them. “Besides, they don’t have to be here for me to know I can always count on them. They’re just a phone call away.” You explained. “Plus they have work to do. People to save, women to recruit. You know, the usual.” 
“I’m proud of you, you know?” 
You smiled at your father. Then a few moments passed and you couldn’t help but ask, “What happened after I left? Where is the rest of Bucky’s family?” 
Your father looked surprised. “He didn’t tell you?” 
“Tell me what?” 
Your father shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. They’re all gone anyway. Plus the boy, he… he treats you right, doesn’t he?” 
You nodded. Then left it at that. You wanted a peaceful morning with your father, you didn’t want to ruin it by insisting he tell you about whatever it was that he wanted to keep in the past. 
But it bothered you, knowing that something happened while you were gone that you knew nothing about and everyone refused to tell you about it. 
All except one man. Your beloved friend, Sam. 
He showed up one morning, demanding to see Bucky. 
“He said he has an important phone call to attend to. With someone named Steve. He’s been outside for over an hour now,” You explained to Sam, who stood at the foyer looking disappointed, “It looks like he’ll be out for quite some time.” 
Sam frowned, and sighed. “He said to come over for a round of golf.” He sounded like he’d been betrayed. “Ever since he started doing business and being friendly with that Steve guy,” Sam complained, “That bitch has been trying to steal my best friend.” 
You chuckled and grabbed his hand to lead him further into the house. “I’m sorry my husband ruined your playdate, Sammy. But you can hang out with me.” 
Sam reluctantly agreed only after you promised to make him blueberry muffins. He liked those ever since you were kids. 
He agreed to help, and you both had a nice, comfortable conversation going while you worked. You caught yourself shaking your head a few times thinking about how just a few months ago if someone had told you you’d be in Bucky’s kitchen making muffins you wouldn’t believe it. 
But here you were now. 
Then Sam casually said, “I’m glad you two worked it out, you know? You’re so perfect for each other. Even back when we were kids, remember how everyone used to tease you two and say you would surely marry one another?” He laughed. “I mean after he told me all about how you heard him on the phone with me by the pool, I was worried you might never clear up the misunderstanding.” He chuckled, keeping his eyes down as he lined the muffin tin so didn’t see the way you froze. Sam continued, “I thought that’s why you left when I heard about your sudden disappearance. But–”
You cut him off, heart racing as memories of that night came flooding back in. “Sam… what do you mean on the phone with you?” 
Sam looked up, frowning. “That night of your twentieth birthday. Remember how you found Bucky by the pool? He was on the phone with me that night. He was so angry when he told me what his family was planning to do to yours, how they were going to–,” Sam cut himself off as the realisation set in. “Did he not tell you the truth?” 
Your heart pounded. Something was wrong. 
“Tell me what truth?” 
Sam’s eyes softened. “Oh, I shouldn’t be the one to–,”
“Sammy, please.” You begged in a whisper. “Even my father refuses to tell me anything. I have the right to know. What happened?” 
Sam tried his hardest to make sense as he told you everything in a rush. “Look, something went wrong back then. Bucky’s family began siding with the rivals and they were trying to take your father down. They tricked your dad into thinking that getting you and Bucky married would be a good idea and well, your father chose to believe his friends so he made that announcement at the party.” Sam sighed, “But Bucky’s family were planning something really bad. They were going to use the wedding as an excuse to gather all your family in one place and… end all of you. Just so they’d be able to expand their territory. Bucky found out about this plan and he was pissed. So that night, he called me. To vent.” 
You felt your eyes begin to water. 
Sam continued. “But then you found him. I remember him whispering to me that you were doing a terrible job at hiding behind a plant or some shit. Then your huge gown gave away your hiding spot. But given you were listening, Bucky decided he’d get you annoyed enough to have you at least try to call off the wedding which would buy us some time to figure out what to do. That’s when he began saying those things about you. Trying his hardest to sound like he truly did not want to marry you.” Sam sighed, “I mean there might have been a better way of doing it rather than fake dialogues on a phone call, but we were twenty year old boys. We didn’t know better. We didn’t know you’d write that note and just disappear.” 
What the actual fuck. 
“Sam…” You whispered in disbelief. 
He shook his head. “Please tell me you didn’t truly believe all that. He lied when he said those things that night, you know? Bucky liked you ever since we were kids. You don't remember how he used to get mad at me whenever I was around you for too long? How he always ignored your hiding spots when we played just so you’d win at hide-and-seek? You don’t remember how he used to bully your stupid boyfriends as we got a older?” 
You couldn’t believe any of this. But Sam would never lie to you. 
“Wait,” Sam put the pieces together. “So you didn’t know about any of this?” 
You closed your eyes and sighed, “I didn’t. I heard all the things he said that night and… I had spent my entire life loving him and I thought…” You sighed. “I was young and stupid and heartbroken so I just left.” Then you explained. “I got back recently, Bucky made this whole show of raining down bullets at my father’s house and, well, we kinda got married that same day, in my father’s destroyed foyer.” 
“You didn’t talk to each other this whole time?” Sam was in disbelief. “Oh for fuck’s sake. And I thought Bucky just never mentioned you while you’ve been gone because… well, he’s not exactly good at the whole heart to heart thing. He’s Bucky.” 
Your surprise morphed into anger really quickly. “I need to find my husband.” You said, quickly walking out of the kitchen. 
Sam yelled behind you, “I'm gonna take this muffin batter and go before he shoots me after he finds out I told you all this!” 
You just yelled back, “Bye Sammy, I love you”
Sam’s voice sounded distant as he yelled back, “Don’t let him hear you!” 
You ran out to the back, where Bucky said he would be. And you found him by the pool. Again. The sight of him standing there gave you déjà-vu. Except he wasn’t your twenty-year old crush, in a black suit, arguing with who turned out to be Sam, on the night of your birthday anymore. 
He was older now, your husband, wearing dark trousers and a loose white-button up shirt, standing by the pool with the sun setting behind him. You stood on the patio, for a second more, admiring him. The metal hand casually shoved in his pocket and his heavily tattooed arm held a phone to his ear. 
You called out, no longer containing your anger. “You absolute piece of shit!” 
Bucky looked towards you and just frowned, before rolling his eyes. Then said on the phone, “Hang on a minute, Steve. My wife’s angry at me again.” He lowered the phone to his chest and whispered to you, “What is it this time?” 
“How long were you going to keep the truth from me?” You accused him. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 
He raised the phone to his ear again and said, “I’ll call you later Steve, something came up.” Then he hung up, tossed his phone onto one of the lounge chairs before turning to face you again. “Don’t get mad–”
“Stop telling me what to do!” 
He sighed. “Did Sam tell you anything? I saw his car coming in earlier.” 
You hissed, “Oh leave him alone! He’s a good man who doesn’t lie to me!” 
Bucky shook his head, understanding that you knew all about what he’d been hiding, and too calmly said, “They were gonna kill you. All of you. Not just your family members, but the guards, the family friends, the members of your family who aren’t even in this life – all of you. I had to do something. My folks were wrong, I couldn’t let innocent people die just because my family got too power hungry.” 
You took a step forward, “Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would’ve talked to someone.” 
“We barely even talked to each other as we got older. I thought you wouldn’t believe me.” 
“But you could’ve at least tried to say something!” 
He was quiet for a moment. Then said, “I came to see you the next day.” He confessed. “The morning after the party. But your father had found your note and you’d already left. You never mentioned exactly why you left in the note, so I let him think it was because of me.” He explained, “Since there would be no wedding I didn’t have to worry anymore. But the threat remained. So I goaded your father into a fight. He took the bait and tried to shoot at me. He missed, of course. But enough people heard about it so he ended up declaring war against my family.” 
He paused. You listened quietly. 
“No one knew it was all because of me. But at least from then on, your father was more cautious. And he began hating my folks. And they couldn’t keep pretending to be his friend for much longer either. All the truth began spilling out. Soon the city was divided and the attacks began. Allies became enemies, just like that.” 
You were quiet. Processing everything. All of that shit happened and you were not aware. 
For some reason, you asked, “During those attacks… Is that when you lost your arm?”
You only realised you’d been stepping closer and closer to him when he raised said metal arm and touched your cheek gently. He smiled and said, “No, baby. That was a different time.” 
You had a tear sliding down your face. He wiped it away. “What happened then?” You asked. 
“My folks didn’t stand a chance. Your father was not only angry and betrayed, but he was also sad that he lost you because of them, or me.” Bucky explained. “It got… really bad. Your father lost a lot of his guys. Then he got angrier. So he stopped responding to the petty attacks and came after my folks directly.” 
“He killed them?” They were his friends once. 
Bucky said, “He still doesn’t know I helped him all the way until the end.” 
“But he spared you.” 
Bucky smirked. “He just could never catch me.” 
“But your family…” Bucky went against his own you realised. 
“They were bad people. Not just because of what they planned to do to you but…” He sighed. “They were doing bad things in the background. Dealing in substances, and people.” He spared you the gory details. 
But you understood.  
“Why didn’t you tell me all this that day we got married?” 
“You wouldn’t have believed me. You had just spent ten years hating me.” He shrugged. “But hey, it kept you safe.” 
You stepped closer to him, feeling tired with all that you felt inside you. “So you never meant the things you said that night?” 
Bucky pulled you close, cupping your face in his hands. “I have loved you my entire life. I never stopped.” 
You sniffled, looking up into his pretty eyes. “We lost so much time. I spent years hating you for nothing.” It hurt thinking about it. 
He smiled at you, “I should’ve thought it through better. But I was young and rash, and my family threatened to kill the girl I loved. I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away.” He sighed. “I just didn’t think I was going to lose you for almost a decade. I was always aware of where you were and what you did in life in those years. I was so proud of everything you did, the name you made for yourself. But I couldn’t reach you. You were angry and you hated me. So I waited. And then you came back and… I needed you with me. I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer.” 
You wrapped your arms around him, shoving your face into the crook of his neck as you let the tears fall quietly. 
“Shh,” He whispered, running a comforting hand down your back. “It’s okay now, I’m here. We’re okay.” 
“I’ve been mean to you.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.” 
He chuckled quietly, “And I shot at your father’s house. We’re equal.” 
“I… I love you too, you know?” You sniffled. 
Bucky pulled away so he could look down at your teary face. “Sorry to say this, wife, but this isn’t half as romantic as the first time you told me you loved me.” 
You frowned. “What?” Did you talk in your sleep? Oh no. Did you? “When did I say it?” 
“We were seven, playing in the hedge maze in your father’s backyard.” He smiled, thinking about that day. “He had just had a new water fountain placed in there, and you wanted to show it to me. You must have thought it was pretty and that I needed to see it too. Then you dragged me all the way there and told me you loved me.” He smirked, “Seven-year old you would be disappointed in you right now.” 
A chuckle escaped your lips at the faded memory. “I wish we could go back in time.” 
“Well, we can’t. But we can have the rest of our lives together.” 
You sniffled again, wiped your tears. Then nodded, and leaned in for a kiss. Deepening it the moment he kissed you back. Your fingers found their way into his longish hair and you gently tugged at his roots. 
He smiled into the kiss when you whispered against his lips, “I like you with long hair.” 
“I see you’re being nice again,” He murmured in between kisses, “Does my wife need something?” 
You giggled this time. “I want you, Buck. Just you.” 
“You have me.” He said. “Always.”
3K notes · View notes
fragmentedblade · 11 months
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Saw a picture of blacksmith Yingxing. Feeling very normal about it (a lie)
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liberty1776 · 1 year
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Bloodstained men say circumcision is child abuse
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bby-deerling · 6 months
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one piece men + period sex (nsfw)
some period sex headcanons! || masterlist
ft. luffy, zoro, sanji, law, ace
18+, nsfw, mdni
cw: afab!fem!reader, talk of periods/period sex, blood, bloodplay, oral sex, fingering, etc.
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luffy
is confused and doesn't understand why you're bleeding... once you explain it to him, he simply shrugs it off and continues. it's not a big deal to him!
doesn't mind any bloodstains, and will not even bother to put a towel down! he's always one to make a mess, but you might have to twist his arm to get you to help with the laundry afterwards...
something inside him stirs when he tastes you; the metallic tang of your blood reminds him of a steak cooked rare, and he can't get enough of it!
zoro
on the surface, he sees it as something normal and natural, and doesn't see any reason to let a tiny bit of blood stop him from giving you some loving. deep down, he's no stranger to the sight or taste of blood, and secretly enjoys it.
doesn't necessarily believe in blood magic, but he thinks it's hot to lap up everything you have to offer—the act of tasting your blood is an intimate act for him, and makes him feel even closer and more tightly bonded to you.
if you're in pain from cramps, he will be gentler and softer with you. he is familiar with aches, soreness, and pain, and it feeds his ego to be able to take that pain away from you with his touch.
sanji
he lives to please, and will still eat you out like a man dying of thirst. secretly, the taste of blood isn't his favorite, but you wouldn't know it by the way he smothers you with attention until you're overstimulated and writhing under him.
feels a bit squeamish fucking you at first—he has to get over the mental hurdle that the blood is just there and he's not hurting you. after he gets accustomed to it, he's back to being all over you just like he usually is.
uses having sex to "fix" your cramps as an excuse to come onto you, and gets so whiny and needy as he pleads to let him help you.
ace
doesn't mind either way, is the type who might not even notice you're on your period unless he sees a bit of blood.
he might be a bit more gentle with you though, and if you're in pain he'll put his palm on you like a warm compress while he eats you out.
loves to dirty talk, and mumbles nonsense about his dick being the medicine you need to make you feel better into your ear while he ruts into you :)
law
insists on putting a towel down—even if he adores you, he doesn't want to have to deal with an unnecessary load of laundry afterwards...
he is so the type of guy to use the "you know, orgasming can help ease the pain of your cramps..." line on you and it works every time.
prefers to use his fingers on you instead of his mouth—if he were anyone else, you might be a bit miffed, but with how skilled he is, who are you to complain?
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zaldritzosrose · 23 days
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Can't Stay Away (Feyd-Rautha x Princess!Reader)
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Summary: Second daughter of the Emperor and you were well used to being ignored in favour of your sister. That was, until you met Feyd-Rautha, nephew to the Harkonnen Baron. A tourney of old, bringing back the traditions of champions and favours brought him to your side - but how close would he stay?
TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, mild mentions of neglect towards reader (ignored in favour of Irulan), Feyd being a flirt, hot and heavy making out, fingering, lashings of sexual tension.
I've taken a couple of liberties with the veils the Bene Gesserit/Irulan seem to wear - making it an honour to see a Sister/Princess' face and given meaning to the paint on Feyd before the arena...because why not it's my story!
(There will be a part 2...maybe 3...I have no self control)
Words: 3508
THANK YOU to @tumblin-theworldaway for not only being patient over this but for listening to my months of related brain rot! I love you!
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Being second to the Imperial heir had not always felt like a task. As a child, you did not mind being sent off to other tasks while Irulan was coached in the ways of an Empress. Your father had you both trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, and as a child it made you feel incredibly important. Being at the Reverend Mother’s side, and at times the only time you were ever praised for something you had achieved.
But the older you got, the more the feeling of being ignored crept in. Men would seek out Irulan's favour, not yours. Visitors would spend hours speaking to the elder princess before speaking to you. Irulan was the interesting one. She was heir, it made sense for her to be the one they wished to gain the favour of.
Second daughter, second best. You understood it, deep down, but that did not stop the hurt it caused.
Despite this, you always accompanied your father and sister on the planetary tours, following along as the Emperor would visit all his people and be lavished with grand feasts and parties as a welcome. Every House from Arrakis to Zanovar were granted a visit from their Emperor, some were happier about it than others.
Despite the tensions on Arrakis, the word of the ‘Messiah’ reaching the Emperor’s ears and being ignored and the rumours that the Emperor had ordered the end of House Atreides, the Imperial Tours continued.
Giedi Prime was the next stop. The home of the Harkonnens. You had heard of the Harkonnens. Fearsome warriors. Terrifying. Bloodthirsty. Brutal. In all honesty, they had fascinated you for the longest time. The manipulations that led to their rise. Their bloodstained history with House Atreides. You had read as much as you had been able to find.
And their welcome? A tournament, a battle of strength and brutality to impress their Emperor. Harking back to days of old when knights would compete in feats of battle prowess to show off. Men from all the Great Houses and more came to compete, including Feyd-Rautha. The Baron's nephew did not hesitate to volunteer to represent his people in something so prestigious.
The Imperial Ship landed and you, your sister and the Emperor were quickly greeted by the Baron and his nephews. You stood to your father’s left, Irulan at his right. Feyd’s eyes stayed on you, though you had not noticed yet. Trailing from the gold and pearl veil over your face, down to the matching white lace and gold dress that both clung and flowed over your body perfectly. He glanced briefly at Irulan, her silver and chainmail contrasting you, but his eyes ultimately returned to you.
"Your Imperial Graces, may I introduce my nephews," the Baron began, gesturing first to his elder nephew and then the younger as he spoke.
"Beast-Rabban and Feyd-Rautha."
Both men bowed, following their uncle's lead. First to the Emperor, then Irulan and then you. The order of importance seemed clear, as usual. But as his head raised, Feyd met your gaze and held it. Cool blue eyes boring into yours and you could not look away.
Your father nodded his head in thanks as did Irulan, but you...
You still stared at Feyd. Something about him, the way he held your gaze. The faint smirk forming on his lips. You could not do anything but stare.
His smile widened, black painted teeth on show as he stepped forward and taking your hand in his, a gesture that shocked even you. His lips found the back of it, pressing a surprisingly gentle but lingering kiss to your skin. No one ever focused on you like this, not when you stood by Irulan. It was something you had gotten quite accustomed to.
But the rough scratch of his fingers around yours, the heat of his lips on your skin, was enough to have you blushing. Then he spoke. His voice low, sending a shiver down your spine.
"A pleasure to meet you, princess."
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The Emperor and the Baron led you, Irulan and the Baron’s nephews back inside the Harkonnen fortress. Despite trying not to, your focus always seemed to return to Feyd. The way he moved with confidence, the small glances he gave you with that smirk still on his lips.
Irulan was at your father’s side, as usual. Rabban walked beside the Baron. Which left you and Feyd behind that line. You were not purposely walking at his side, but you soon noticed that Feyd had fallen into step with you. Slowing his pace to match yours.
You kept your gaze forward, but you could feel his eyes on you. Like a predator and you were no more than prey. You knew you would be the one to break the silence before Feyd did.
“Are you looking forward to the tournament, Feyd?” You asked, glancing to the side to see him, as expected, staring at you as he walked.
Feyd hummed low in response before answering. You began to wonder how he was being so mindful of where he was going, whilst keeping his eyes on you.
“A fight is always welcome, princess. Are you excited for it?”
You did not answer immediately. No answer you gave, you felt, was ever interesting enough. Or at least, not in your past experiences. But, to your surprise, Feyd seemed genuinely interested.
“I am intrigued, to say the least. It is not often a House welcomes us with such an event.”
Feyd only nodded, before holding out his hand to stop you moving further forward. It was only then that you noticed you had reached the doors to the Harkonnen fortress. You had been so distracted by the man beside you, you had ignored your surroundings.
“After you, princess,” Feyd offered, holding out an arm to allow you to walk ahead.
You walked on, hearing Feyd’s boots against the floor behind you. Your father, sister and the Baron and his nephew were ahead of you. And your father had not looked back once to check on you, something you were well used to. But Feyd had noticed too.
His head tilted in curiosity but said nothing on the topic. He followed you inside, eyes glancing occasionally between you and your father, noticing the seemingly longing look you held. As the Baron led the Emperor and Irulan into the dining hall, you seemed to hang back, like you were waiting for permission to follow them.
When that did not come, you folded your hands before you and turned from the door.
“Are you not joining them?” Feyd asked, genuinely surprised at the situation.
Your head hung low, and you simply shook it.
“Not if I am not invited. Irulan is heir, not I,” You said simply and began walking away without a second glance.
You assumed Feyd would join his uncle and brother. But the sound of footsteps behind you told you otherwise. You did not look back as you walked, though in truth, you had no idea where you were walking to. You simply wished to be away. Feyd followed silently, only interfering when he felt the need to steer you somewhere specific.
“Princess, follow me, I have somewhere more comfortable you could wait over walking the halls?”
Feyd was not sure why, but he felt the need to be at your side. A strange draw that seemed to tug at his gut and keep him at your side. He was a man of pleasure, or so most people said. He held little care for the feelings of others.
Yet with you, he wanted to know. No, he needed to know. To know what bothered you. To know why your eyes dipped to the floor after looking at your father and sister. Why you seemed surprised from the moment he paid you attention upon your arrival. He was curious as to why you seemed to try to hide your presence at any given moment.
But he said nothing. He would not even know where to begin if he wanted to. Instead, he walked in silence, leading you to a wide balcony that looked out on to the expanse of Giedi Prime.
You took your seat and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence until you were called by one of your father’s attendants.
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You listened politely as you walked beside your sister, Irulan’s arm linked with yours this time as you followed your father and the Baron towards the arena. Irulan talked on about how the tournament would work, that you, her and some other noble ladies from the Houses would choose their own champion to fight the tournament in their name.
It reminded you of the tourneys of old. Where knights fought for princesses and ladies to win favour. You had read so many stories, fairytales of times that were now a faraway memory. The idea fascinated you as much as the Harkonnens did. You were about to ask Irulan more, when your father turned to speak. To both of you, for once.
“My daughters, you will allow the ladies from the Great Houses to choose their champions, then you will choose.”
That confused you both, but you had little choice but to agree. He was the Emperor first, your father second.
You watched warriors from each Great House and some minor Houses line up before you, Irulan and the other gathered ladies with interest. And you could not hide your smile when Feyd stepped forward and joined them.
One by one, champions were picked. Irulan chose first out of the two of you, not surprisingly choosing a Corrino soldier as her champion. There were more warriors than ladies to choose, and Feyd remained in those waiting. That surprised you. He was known for his fighting ability, so you did not understand why he had not been chosen. Which only solidified your own choice.
“Princess, your choice of champion please?” the Harkonnen announcer asked, gesturing to the men before you.
Purely for the suspense, you paused before answering. Mere seconds, allowing you to enjoy the small amount of attention focused solely on you.
“I choose Feyd-Rautha.”
Everyone looked shocked, including your father and sister. Everyone, but Feyd. His smirk wide as he stepped forward, taking your hand as he had when you arrived. Eyes locked to yours as he pressed his lips to your knuckles.
“I shall win well for you, my princess.”
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You were not sure if it was traditional, but Feyd had asked you to see him before the tournament. A guard led you silently to a round chamber, with only a black stone table in the centre, holding weapons of different kinds. You stood out so starkly against the black stone, the faint lights making the pearls on your veil shimmer ever so slightly.
Feyd was stood in the centre, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks you realised he wore only an intricately wrapped loin cloth.
“Princess, I appreciate you agreeing to come,” Feyd called as he strode to your side.
He smirked as he watched you avert your gaze from his bare chest. In his hand, he held a bowl of what looked like black paint. It was only when he tapped the stone bowl did your eyes find it. You looked back at him curiously.
“You are my champion, it would be rude not to,” you said softly, your eyes still looking at the bowl.
It was only then that you noticed there was no one else in the room. Something that seemed extremely unusual.
“Do you normally prepare for a fight alone?” you asked, eyes flitting around the room and back to him, now trained solely on his face.
Feyd chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that you found yourself wanting to hear again.
“No, usually I am surrounded by servants and guards. But I thought I would try something different today. It’s a special day after all.”
He held the bowl up, tipping it slightly to move the paint. Your eyes watched it with interest, it slowly dawning on you what it was for. You had read up on the Harkonnens and Giedi Prime before you arrived, there was more lore to research than you had anticipated. One thing, now, came to your mind.
“Am I to paint you, Feyd?”
That earned you another chuckle. Though Feyd was actually quite surprised you knew of any Harkonnen traditions.
“I thought it would be interesting, to prepare your champion for battle, hmm?” he asked, holding the bowl out to you, careful however not to get the ink black liquid on your white dress.
You nodded, confusing him when you turned away from him. But what you did next, was not what he expected. Slowly, you lifted the veil that had covered your face since your arrival. Finally revealing your full appearance to him.
And you were beautiful.
“Then I suppose it is only fair I let you look at me while I do so.”
What Feyd did not realise, was the importance of what seemed like a small gesture. Almost all those trained by the Bene Gesserit veiled themselves in some way. The Princesses most of all. But Feyd knew even now, he was being honoured by you.
“Thank you, princess.” Was all he could manage, any words he said would never be quite enough, he felt.
You returned to his side, only now looking down at the full form of him. Thick muscle covered him from shoulder and down. A body sculpted for war, it seemed. And it was now a body that would fight in your name.
Feyd held out the bowl, watching with curious eyes as you took it and moved to stand at his back. He opened his mouth to instruct you but was stopped by the cold sensation of paint on his skin. You felt him stiffen a little and continued to paint as you explained.
“I have done my research before coming here. My father always tells me it is best to know our hosts,” you said simply, as if that should be enough to explain why you so easily began painting him.
He said nothing as you finished his back, the feeling of the paint drying telling him where you had painted each square and line. It fascinated him that you had so quickly learned the symbols necessary.
But when you moved to his front, he felt a wave of anticipation run through him. Tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he waited for you to begin. He could feel the warmth of your hands more intensely now he could see you.
You started on his chest, painting the four thick lines on his pectorals first. He watched the concentration on your face, the way your teeth gently nibbled your lower lip as your made sure every stroke was perfect.
You could feel his eyes on you, but you did not dare look up. The whole situation was intimate enough, without meeting his gaze. Feyd heard the soft breath you took to prepare yourself as you moved lower, pausing only briefly before you began to paint his stomach.
“Do you really believe these help you?” you suddenly asked, as though distracting yourself from the path your fingers took over the ridges of hid abdominals.
Feyd’s jaw clenched at the gentleness of your touch, the feeling sending goosebumps over his pale skin. He did his best to concentrate on answering your question about the symbols.
“It is the belief in them that makes them important, so yes, I do.”
You hummed in response, and Feyd’s breath caught in his throat when you began to kneel as your painted nearer his hips.
The tension in the air was thick. No sounds in the room except the scrape of your fingers against the bowl and the soft puffs of your combined breathing. Feyd tried his best to concentrate solely on the paint being smeared on his skin, but having you so close had desire settling in his belly.
Soon, you were done.
“There, I hope I have done a good enough job…” Feyd smiled at the mix of hope and pride in your eyes. But when you moved to take your hand away from his skin, he grabbed it quickly. His body acting on instinct and the words leaving him before his brain could control them.
“Would I be too forward in asking for a kiss, princess. For luck?”
You were struck silent by the question, but an aching part of you began urging you to allow him one kiss. No harm could come from it, right?
Tentatively, you stepped forward after setting bowl down on a table nearby. You pressed your lips softly to his cheek, letting them linger for mere seconds. But that was not what Feyd wanted.
You had barely stepped back before his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. He revelled in the small squeak of surprise that left you and he appreciated the fact you were not trying to push him away.
Your face was mere inches from his as his hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your head up to his as he pressed him plump lips to yours. The feeling was electric the moment your lips met, your own hand gripping the back of his neck. Not caring for the paint that was now smeared down the skin there.
You pressed yourself harder against him, letting your body mould to his as he deepened the kiss. Tongue swiping against the flesh of your lip, asking for entry which you happily granted. The moment his tongue found yours, Feyd was like a man possessed. Gripping your face tighter as your tongue soon surrendered to his, tangling together in a clash of teeth.
The paint on his body, barely dried, smeared against your dress but you could not have cared less. Your only thoughts were Feyd. The feel of his arm on your waist and hand on your face. The taste of him, combined with the black paint on his teeth. You were entirely intoxicated by him.
You were not sure when he had backed you towards the table, but you did not stop him when he lifted you quickly on to it. There was something so delicious about the danger of the whole situation. While realistically, you barely knew him, you could feel your body surrendering to every kiss and touch. The very fibres of you desperate to feel more of him already.
Feyd groaned into your mouth when you made space for him to slip between your legs, your dress parting either side to accommodate the movement. His hands took purchase your thighs while yours found his shoulders. Your paint-stained fingers leaving fingerprints all over his alabaster skin.
The room felt like it had heated as his lips began to trail down your jaw and to your neck, following a path until he reached the swell of your breasts, just visible with the cut of your dress. His hands kneading the flesh of your thighs, the combination forcing breathy moans to slip from your lips.
Feyd revelled in every one of them. The dig of nails into his shoulder when he nipped at your collarbone, the soft moan when his hands found the apex of your thighs and squeezed.
“I will win for you, my princess…” he mumbled, his face buried in your neck as his fingers continued their path to your core.
And you were powerless to stop him, your body listening now solely to your base instincts. The first brush of his fingers over your underwear had your head falling back.
“Win for me, and I will reward you…” you sighed out, as his fingers slipped deftly beneath the fabric.
Feyd could barely concentrate on your promise, slipping his fingers further and further between your folds until he was buried to the knuckles. The smallest curl of the digits had you moaning his name.
“Reward me how?” he asked, already feeling your soft walls clenching around him as your release crept forward.
He could barely help himself, thrusting and curling his fingers over and over. Feeling the soft gush of your slick coating his fingers and palm with each movement.
You could hardly form words, Feyd’s fingers somehow speeding up again. You could only moan as you release surprised you, tugging Feyd by neck to kiss him as you spilled around his fingers.
He slowed his movements as you relaxed, not pulling them out until he could feel your muscles stop spasming. Your jaw went slack as you saw him reach for the bowl of paint, mixing your juices with the black liquid and painting over the now smudged symbols you had adorned him with. The smug grin on his face making your skin tingle.
You slowly came back to yourself, eyes meeting his as you finally answered.
“Win for me, and you can have any part of me you wish.”
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aropride · 1 month
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trans men with strange sleep schedules 🖤
trans men who avoid mirrors and photographs 🖤
trans men who are deceptively strong 🖤
trans men who prefer gold jewelry 🖤
trans men who are much older than they appear 🖤
trans men who have a strong affinity with bats 🖤
trans men who have fangs 🖤
trans men with a oddly dull skin tone 🖤
trans men with strange dietary restrictions (eg. garlic) 🖤
trans men who can't go outside in the daytime  🖤
trans men who don't cast shadows 🖤
trans men who are really into biting 🖤
trans men who give off a sort of inhuman vibe 🖤
trans men who live in a castle alone in the middle of a dark forest  🖤
trans men with bloodstains on the skin around their mouths  🖤
trans men who answer suspiciously when you ask what they were doing last night 🖤
trans men 🖤🖤🖤
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