#i love fireflies so much man they’re beautiful

[prettyboysmlm]

FUCK YEAH ITS FIREFLY SEASON LETS GOOOOOOOOO

[jobean12-blog]

Aftermath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 2,318

Summary: Bucky has kept you safe for as long as he's had you but the first time you don't follow his orders is definitey going to be the last.

Author's Note: These new pics are giving lots of mob/mafia vibes and I love it! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angst in the beginning and illusions to violence, mentions of a gun, Bucky is soft and there are lots of fluffy moments but he's pissed you didn't listen and he needs you.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily when Nat doesn’t pick up the phone. She only called you two minutes ago. Right after she sent you a text telling you she needed to talk. Under any other circumstances you would never leave your perch at the bar. Never leave the safety of Bucky’s club and go against his orders.

However, your best friend needs you. She just had a bad break up and things are still rocky so any time she calls you were sure to be there for her. So here you are, standing on the sidewalk outside Bucky’s nightclub, phone pressed to your ear and your foot tapping rapidly against the concrete.

Bucky told you about the heavy tension building between him and a rival boss trying to impede on his territory. He told you that your safety was his first priority. That’s why you were with him at his club right now. He didn’t want you out of his sight.

But you were only just right outside the door…

You’ll try Nat one more time then go back inside and wait for Bucky like he asked.

The phone starts ringing and you hold your breath, hoping she’ll answer. Just as you hear her voice on the other end a car pulls up at the curb and with one glance the occupants have you swiftly turning on your heel and heading back toward the doors of the club.

“Nat,” you say quietly. “Are you ok?”

“I’m having a rough night,” she sighs. “I need your opinion on something.”

“Of course.”

You’re walking at a brisk clip, realizing that during your musings you had wandered farther from the door than you intended to.

Nat is still talking but the sound of your blood rushing through your ears starts to drown out any other sounds.

Four men get out of the car, none of which you recognize. You need to get inside quickly. One of them, carrying a baseball bat, twirls it lazily in his hand as he saunters closer, looking you over appreciatively.

Apprehension shoots up your spine, intuition guaranteeing that they’re here to start trouble.

“Nat I have to go. Call Bucky.”

She starts to reply but you hang up before she can, hoping she heard the trepidation in your voice and does as you asked.

Before you can reach the entrance, two of them lunge in front of you and block your progress.

“Where are you goin’ so fast beautiful?” One of the men asks.

“Excuse me,” you say.

A third man circles up behind you.

“Let me by,” you tell them.

The man holding the baseball bat ignores you.

“You belong to Barnes don’t you?”

Your suspicions are right. These are bad men and they are definitely looking to cause some trouble for your husband. And you.

You shrink back on purpose, appealing to their inflated arrogance and hoping they will underestimate you.

“Please. Just let me go.”

The man with the bat laughs as he runs the coarse wood along your bare calf.

“Think your man will miss you?”

Before the bat reaches your thigh you smack it away. Even though the attempt is most likely useless you’re hoping to pass more time. One of the men behind you snakes a hand around your elbow and yanks you toward him.

“Get in the fucking car baby,” he sneers. “It’s for your own good.”

The fourth man, still in the car, pushes open the back door and lets out a whistle.

“Come on gorgeous. I’ll keep you warm for Barnes.”

You take a deep breath as they propel you toward the car and only put up a small amount of resistance. As soon as you sense they are under the false impression that you’re coming willingly, the hand on your elbow weakens and you act.

With sharp and quick movements you reach for the baseball bat now dangling loosely from the leader’s hands and grab it, swinging it in a large arc to buy yourself some room.

Two of the men jump back, having been caught off guard, but it connects with the leader’s rib cage and he let’s out a vile curse, falling to his knees.

You back up as the other two men approach. Unfortunately, it’s in the direction away from the doors.

“He should have locked this one up,” the man closest to you laughs. “She’s full of fire.”

“And I’m going to enjoy that,” he leader says as he stands, still holding his ribs.

You bring the bat down hard as he lunges for you, but he dodges the weapon and barrels himself closer until he can wrap a strong arm around your waist.

The bat is ripped from your hands and your back is plastered against the man’s chest, his hand creeping up between your breasts to wrap around your throat.

He squeezes hard, tight enough to cut of your air and reflectively your fingers claw and try to pry his hand away.

You try to focus, getting ready to go limp and convince him you’re out cold, so you can somehow disable him.

Just as you’re about to put your plan into action the front door of the club flies open, hitting the side of the brick building with enough force to crack the metal.

Through your dimming eyesight, you can make out several men, including Bucky, before his ferocious growl of denial echoes through the air around you.

It startles the man choking you enough that he eases up on the pressure, allowing you to suck in precious oxygen.

Guns are drawn just before your knees hit the concrete and your stomach twists with renewed fear.

“Bucky,” you whisper, getting to your feet and stepping closer to him.

His haunted gaze makes you swallow hard and you can see the emotional battle written all over his handsome features. With his long finger poised on the trigger, he clearly wants to end the man who had his hands on you.

Without a word he tears his attention away from you, indicting your captor with a nod of his head.

“Steve.”

Steve, his own gun held in a tight grasp, moves in front of Bucky and toward the other man.

“He doesn’t go anywhere,” Bucky seethes.

The other two men from the rival group, still outside of the car, lower their weapons, watching with no emotion as Steve wrestles their leader to the ground with the gun to his head.

Finally, they let out a string of curses and hop back into the car, leaving their ‘friend’ behind as they peel away from the curb.

Bucky motions to Clint and Sam. “Follow them. This ends tonight.”

As Clint and Sam rush off to follow Bucky’s order he slowly saunters forward, the open collar of his shirt blowing wider in the light breeze.

He picks up the bat with a nonchalance that contradicts the tightness of his body and swings it deftly in his metal hand. When his fingers close around the handle you hear the wood crack under the pressure.

Bucky comes to a stop directly over the left-behind leader, and his gaze meets yours for a brief, heavy second, before he raises the bat high and brings it down with enough force to make you gasp.

Your heart races out of control, breathing shallow in your ears. The bat connects with the sidewalk next to the man’s head, sending shards of wood in every direction.

Your relief is short lived.

Bucky crouches down and looks the cowering man straight in his eyes.

“You. Are a dead man.”

Slowly and purposefully he rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you. You swallow the hard lump in your throat and place your fingers in his. In a split second you’re swept into his arms and tugged against his hard chest.

He drags you toward his car and tucks you into the passenger seat, buckling your belt and then slamming the door shut.

Through the closed window you can still hear him shout to Steve. “You know where to take him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The silence stretches long and thin through the car and you can almost feel Bucky’s rage. You open your mouth to speak but promptly shut it when you hear his huff of warning.

He hates the feeling of fear so instead he welcomes the anger, focusing on it, wishing it’s enough to block out the image of you being choked, your feet scraping at the ground and hands clawing at your neck.

If he dwells on it too long his whole word will collapse and he has to get you home. To safety.

At the reminder of what he saw as he walked out of the club, his grip tightens on the leather steering wheel, almost making the car swerve.

When he pulls up in front of your house he checks his surroundings before driving in through the gated driveway. He looks to you, a silent demand to wait, before he gets out of the car and does another sweep of the area.

Once he deems it safe he opens your door and helps you out of the car.

When you’re safely inside the house he leaves you standing just inside the door, inside the large and opulent foyer, as he flies around the nearby rooms and checks every window and lock.

Your gaze follows him the entire time, trying desperately to draw him in and away from the rage. He staunchly defies it and after he feels satisfied the house is safe he takes you by the arm and leads you toward your shared master bedroom.

He walks to the nightstand and opens the drawer, reaching deep into the back to retrieve a gun.

“Bucky, please. Will you just talk to me?”

He can feel you standing close.

“You will stay in this room, with the door locked, until I come back. Anyone tries to get in that isn’t me, you shoot them. Understand?”

When your silence becomes too much he turns to you, keeping his eyes steady as he pleads.

“Tell me you’ll listen. That you understand.”

You take a deep inhale but still don’t speak.

“I’m waiting for my answer doll.”

You move closer and everything inside him tenses up.

“Don’t,” you whisper.

You lay a hand on his chest, immediately making him tremble from head to toe. His eyes close defensively as your hand moves higher and sneaks under the open buttons of his shirt then to his neck and finally into his hair.

Your lips press to his neck.

“Please Bucky. Don’t leave me. Stay.”

He shakes his head, unable to speak and it only makes you drag your lips higher, along his jaw until they hover just above his mouth.

A groan leaves his parted lips before he can stop it.

“I’m scared. I need you.”

Your lips brush over his, once, twice. The hand in his hair runs smoothly along the back of his neck and then coasts over his broad shoulder and down his chest.

“I have to go doll.”

His words are gritted and tortured before his name leaves your lips in a soft whisper.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“You know where I’m goin.’ Don’t make me say it.”

When he notices the glossiness of your eyes it strips him bare and he falls back a step, ready to fall to his knees for you.

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

He’s shouting now.

“If I hadn’t gotten to you in time? One minute later, baby. One fucking minute!”

Your fingers tremble as you reach for him.

“I know, I…”

“You would have been gone. How can you expect me to survive that.”

He breaks off, not able to put the horrifying thought into more words.

“Fuck. I’m so mad at you doll. So mad. But all I can think about is how I need to be inside you. Need to feel you wrapped around me. Feel you everywhere.”

You tightly grasp the lapel of his jacket and drag him closer. He comes easily. Willingly.

“Bucky,” you whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just thought I’d be outside for a second. Nat needed me…I never thought…”

Every word you speak continues to topple the reinforced barrier of anger he’s built. The only thing keeping it standing is that there’s still some physical space between you both.

But then you take a step closer and curl your fingers in the hem of your dress to draw it up over your head, the whole time letting your knuckles and hands brush along his heaving chest and every ounce of his self-control vanishes.

His heated gaze rakes over you and his hands fist at his sides.

You press yourself against him and deliberately untuck his shirt, slipping your hands underneath the lush fabric and running your fingernails up his rigid stomach. His muscles contract beneath your fingers.

“I need you baby doll. So badly.”

You unhook your bra and drop it to the floor, tingles racing over your skin as his jaw grinds with his devouring stare. You lower your hand to palm and squeeze his straining arousal.

“You can have me now Bucky. Now and always.”

His expression softens long enough for you to catch the brightness in his eyes and then his mouth is on yours, his hands frenzied as they grasp and smooth over every inch of your bare skin. He never breaks the kiss as he walks you backward toward the bed, letting you gently fall to the soft mattress before he settles himself between your spread legs.

“I can’t touch all of you at once and it drives me crazy,” he whispers against your lips as his hand slides down between your legs. “I need everything, always.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50 @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989

[iprobablyshipit91]

iprobablyshipit91 Fic Recs

So this started as me keeping links of all my favourite Dean Winchester fics that I finally decided to share so others could hopefully find some great stories and the authors would know how much I love their work. It’s kind of grown to a very, very huge list, but I love everyone of these works, they’re amazing and deserve so much love. I hope you find something you love on here 💕

There’s a mix of fluff, angst, smut, au etc. Please make sure you read the warnings for each story on it’s own page.

Beautiful Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Dean Winchester x Reader

Should I Stay or Should I Go by @daisythekitty

Sweet Dreams by @deanssweetheart23

Slip Up by @deanwritings

Bad Moon Rising by @hintsofhoney

Not the Planned Delivery by @lazydoodlesandfanfic

Unnamed by @lostdreamr-blog1

I’ve Got You by @spnexploration

Broken Ribs Against Fingertips by @the--blackdahlia

Motel Diablo by @waynes-multiverse

Sharing is Caring by @zepskies

Mini Date by @avanatural

The Talk by @avanatural

And Baby Makes Four by @carryonmywaywardone-shots

Nows the Time by @crashdevlin

Down on Dean by @deanwanddamons

The Prettiest One by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Always You and Me by @deanwinchesterswitch

Bullets and Bands by @deanwinchesterswitch

Capeesh? By @deanwritings

I Ship It by @deanwritings

It’s Okay by @deanwritings

Safe Now by @deanwritings

What We Lost by @deanwritings

Tell Me About… by @impala-dreamer

Glances by @kasimagines

It’s Okay, I Love You by @kasimagines

Poison by @kasimagines

Obeying Temptation by @kittenofdoomage

Sweet Satisfaction by @kittenofdoomage

Nannas Love Sammy by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Something New by @princessmisery666

Date Night by @princessmisery666

I Would Never Hurt You by @procrastinatorimagines

Frayed Ends by @scuttling

Must be Love on the Brain by @sleepywinchester

Below Freezing by @soaringeag1e

Promises by @supersleepygoat

Friendzoned by @talesmaniac89

Stupid Cupid by @talesmaniac89

Crazy on You by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Different by @watermelonlipstick

Labyrinth by @waynes-multiverse

Love on the Brain by @waynes-multiverse

Gesundheit by @waynes-multiverse

Dark Waters by @wearywinchester

Above Ground by @wearywinchester

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) by @zepppie

The Wrong Winchester by @cherry3point14

Good Things by @crashdevlin

Baby Spoon by @deanwanddamons

Rumours by @deanwinchesterswitch

Blind Love by @jawritter

Faded by @kasimagines

Sacrifice by @kasimagines

The Last Call by @kasimagines

To Know You by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Watch and Learn by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Can’t Fight This Feeling by @pink-sparkly-witch

Mischief Managed (2) by @sinfulsoulx

A Few Moments of Madness | Last Time? by @smellingofpoetry

Familiar by @spnhunter4life

Dream On by @talesmaniac89

Well, Hello There Stranger by @talesmaniac89

If You Want it to Be by @zepskies

Midnight Espresso | Devour Me by @zepskies

Clear the Area by Alisha Ashton

Many of Horror by Alisha Ashton

Closing Walls and Ticking Clocks by Alisha Ashton

In the Dark by Alisha Ashton

Comfort by @fangirlingfromdownunder

Baby, We’ve got a Problem by @deanwritings

Night Falls by @deanwritings

Captives of the Court by @impala-dreamer

Carry On by @jawritter

My Saviour by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Heart of a Hunter by @muchamusedaboutnothing

The Widow by @pink-sparkly-witch

The One That Got Away by @pink-sparkly-witch

Hold On I’m Coming by @ravengirl94

The Arrangement by @ravengirl94

Long Way Home by @supersleepygoat

Cross my Heart by @smol-and-grumpy

Home to You by @smol-and-grumpy

Collared by @spnexploration

Pack by @spnexploration

Limelight by @talesmaniac89

Charity Heist by @talesmaniac89

The Man in Apartment 43 by @talesmaniac89

Practically Magic by @thelibrarylesstrektraveled

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 1 by @waywardaardvark79

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 2 by @waywardaardvark79

Miscommunication by @winchest09

Don’t Say a Word by @winchester-girl67

Never Say Goodbye by @zepskies

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 12

Summary: You and Bucky are in love, and Bucky has to talk to Steve.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, depictions of PTSD/panic attack, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of drug abuse, soft!Bucky, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, mentions of street life, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

A/N: this part does dive into Shy's past with her father, and we learn about Dove's sister. It can be a bit dark. Read ALL warnings, and if you feel it's too much for you, I don't apologize. This story was always going to be dark.

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

*Bucky edits by @nixakimbo

There’s a comfort with living here with Bucky and Alpine. You’re able to relax, not fully, but you are getting there. Alpine definitely helps. Bucky. You want to let him in as easy as he let you in, but you just can’t. You could sit and listen to him talk, but don’t want to talk about your life just yet.

You want to, and then you don’t. You need to, but you just can’t. He is giving you so much of himself, including a place to live. Refusing to even take money from you. You weren’t poor, in fact you had done well with your books. That ugly piece of shit house had insurance, so yay for that.

But Bucky. He’s a mystery to you like all men. You know you shouldn’t, but you compare them all to your father. It’s why you wrote; you want to make stories of men that were good, honest, and didn’t have crippling and poor coping mechanisms. Bucky didn’t seem like that. In fact he gave you just enough distance, and you craved him more.

Was crave even the right word? You dream of him. Wished he would close the gap a bit more so you could count the colors of blue in his eyes. Had a desire to snoop in his room just so you knew what cologne he wore or if that scent was purely Bucky.

Why did he haunt your thoughts? Your newest male character was Bucky. Down to the cleft in his chin. The very dimple you longed to poke a finger in, hoping to bring a smile big enough to make the faint dimples appear on his cheeks. You liked when you could get that to happen.

Why couldn’t you be more comfortable with him? Why couldn’t you just speak more than a few words? Every evening he even asked if he was talking too much, and you’d respond by shaking your head no. You’d never been given much of a voice in your home, yet another reason you wrote. Your writing gave you that voice. Those moments to say what you wanted, even if it was fiction. There is always a bit of truth in the midst of fantasy.

If you could have made the perfect man, it would be Bucky. He is handsome without question, but his patience astounded you. He never once raised his voice. He saw you look in the fridge at the beer for too long, and the next day the beer was gone. You still haven’t found remnants of even beer garbage. He watched you curiously as you traced your finger along the walls, asking what you were doing. “They’re spotless.”

There aren't burns, dents, or ripped out wiring in his home. It is fascinating that there was a man that could no doubt live in a world of turmoil and danger, and yet his home is a safe haven for him, you, and even the cute little kitty that snuggled up to you every night.

Alpine is a godsend to you. She followed you around like a lost puppy, well cat. When Bucky came home, she would stand between the two of you, making sure there was a safe distance, but that you could hear her purring. You liked her purring. When she greeted her dad, Bucky would look at you but you kept your eyes trained on Alpine. Only random looks would move up to him. You were a puzzle that he couldn’t quite put together, but he knew once he did that you would be beautiful, even if there were missing pieces.

You kiss the top of Alpine’s head as you allow yourself to drift off to sleep. Sleep still scared you, and you found yourself panting and in a puddle of sweat almost every night, so far you’d been able to keep it within the four walls of your bedroom. “Goodnight, sweet girl. Keep us all safe.”

Sleep was always fraught with dreams that transformed into nightmares. Dreams of how you wished your life with your father was, but morphing into nightmares of how you viewed things with the eyes of you as a little girl. Parties that would get too loud, and your father would start cussing and pushing everyone around before they’d leave.

Parties where he would pass out early, and you’d have to hide in the closet as people would have sex in your bed. You’d sit in the corner of your closet with your fingers in your ears and tears running down your face as you try to block out the noises just a few feet away. You got smarter as you got older, but their gazes would follow you if you wanted food or to go to the bathroom.

Those slobs begged for the days that your father would pass out and they would beat on your door. They never made it in there with you, but their lingering eyes and words to each other was enough for you to swallow bile on more than one occasion.

Your nightmares held the fights that you had with your dad. When he’d drunkenly throw whatever he could get his hands on at you, or punch walls. Even ripping the phone off the wall because the sound of it annoyed him. How many fires had you put out because his disgusting self fell asleep with a cigarette.

This dream is your worst. His ghost is chasing you around the fire that you started on purpose. Letting you know that you would never get rid of him. His voice would be in your ear for the rest of your life, and would even haunt your children. You would never know peace because you were the reason his wife was dead. It’s what you deserved.

His voice repeats ‘It’s what you deserved’ over and over again. Marking itself in your very soul, until you believed that no good could come into your life because you didn’t deserve it. You deserved to live a miserable and loveless life like he did because it was your fault, and you deserved every bit of suffering that ever came in your life.

“No! Nonononono!”

“Hey,” Bucky whispers into your ear, giving your body a light shake. “Hey, come back to me.”

“You’re a liar!” You shoot up in the bed, and see his face trying to touch you. “Stop touching me! Don’t touch me. You’re wrong! You’re always wrong!” Your arms swing at him a few times and he starts to step back with his arms up in surrender, “I don’t want you to touch me!”

“It’s me, Bucky,” your body freezes, but your eyes blink a few times as he comes into clear view. Bucky isn’t your father, and your father isn’t Bucky. “I can leave.”

“No!” You should have let him. Why did you stop him? What is it that you want? “I don’t want to be alone. I’m always alone because he isolated me. I’ve never had a friend, and I don’t want to be him. I don’t want to blame everyone for my problems. I don’t want to be without…touch.”

You extend a shaky hand out to Bucky. Who are you? You didn’t want touch, you wanted to be left alone. Bucky’s head twists to the side as he looks at your trembling hand. His eyes move down to Alpine who is on your lap, and ready to pounce. She never took a defensive approach towards Bucky, “Can I hold your hand?”

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully for the first time. You wanted him to touch your hand, and you wanted him to go away. Conflicting emotions were complicated.

“How about I hold my hand here?” He holds his hand straight out to yours barely an inch between you, and you close the space and press yours against his. Your fingers look so small compared to his. You bet he could play the piano beautifully. He has long lithe fingers that you wanted to weave yours into his.

His rings are cold against your skin. They were menacing to so many people, but to you they just looked like Bucky. You look up at him and start laughing. Laughing so hard that tears spring to your eyes. This is what crazy is, you just know it. He was going to walk away from you, and you’d never see him again.

Your hand just looked so tiny against his. Holding up your other hand, Bucky meets it with his metal hand, and you can’t stop yourself from weaving all ten of your fingers with his, continuing to laugh. He doesn’t retreat, his mouth just turns up into a crooked grin before he laughs with you.

“Are you okay?”

“I gotta break the cycle,” you laugh even harder, and aren’t sure why. Was this the mental break you assumed would eventually find you? If this was a mental break, you’d take it. You had no desire for alcohol. Didn’t want to turn to drugs. The only thing you wanted was to know that Bucky is smiling, and you wanted to keep learning all about him.

“You are. You’re breaking the cycle,” he answers with so much certainty that it cuts the air off from your lungs. Your laughing stops as soon as it had started, and he smiles as he sits down beside you. “You got yourself a little guard cat. Alpine, I don’t want to hurt her. Are you okay with me here?”

“Actually, yes. I hate men,” his mouth tightens as he watches you. “They’re thoughts of defiling a woman are so evidently clear in the way that they ogle you, and…the things they say.”

“Has anyone ever…”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not just saying that to avoid a trauma talk. It wasn’t without trying, but no. Not like that. Not sexually,” Bucky takes the abrupt finish as you wanting to move on past this talk. And yet you’re still looking at him, and opening up.

“Your father?”

“He was a mean drunk, and can we leave it at that?” Bucky gives you a head nod in response. He wouldn’t dig, he never did. “Thank you. I just…I don’t want to be alone anymore. Not in my life, and not in here,” you point at your head as you study his eyes. How were there so many shades of blue? “I’ve never really lived before. Had friends, but as soon as we got close, I’d push them away, and they’d give up on me. Bucky, if I push…don’t give up on me?”

“I’ve devoted a lot of time to you. I don’t want to give up. I always see things through.”

“Thank you,” two words have never held so much power for you before. You could never thank Bucky enough for the things he’s done, but mostly for the things he just said. Everyone with their good intentions always gave up on you. You couldn’t blame them. There’s only so many times that you push someone away that they give up on trying.

You bump your hip into Bucky’s as you look up at him with a genuine smile. Dates. You have been on six of them now, and he is still as much of a gentleman as he was the night he brought you home with him. The man slept in the bed with you, and still wouldn’t initiate anything. And heaven forbid if the two of you kissed at home. It’s like he had a timer that went off, and he would pull back.

“Bucky!”

“What is it?” His silvery blue eyes look down at you. His lips pull up with a smirk. He knew. He knew exactly what you wanted, and you were trying to get his attention.

“You know!”

“Just tell me then. Use your words, and tell me explicitly what you want,” it sounded like a bigger invitation than what you were wanting at this moment. What you wanted when you got home was entirely different. “Shy?”

Your fingers tickle along his as you will him to grab ahold of your hand. “My sweet little Shy Violet, all you have to do is use those words that I know you have.”

“Well…aren’t you my,” you stop your words. Could you call him that? You lived together. You saw him everyday, and talked to him throughout the day, there was no other woman. But could you say boyfriend?

“I think we’ve earned the right to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend,” Bucky would say those words over and over again just to see your sweet smile, hear the little giggle that rose up your throat, and even feel the warmth that was circled your body. “Shy, you’re my girlfriend.”

“I want my boyfriend to hold my hand then,” you blurt out. Bucky chuckles, but he does entangle his fingers with yours, pulling you as close to him as he possibly can as you walk back home. Your steps match each other, and you’ve never felt safer than you do right now.

“Shy, what are you feeling right now?”

“Right now?” You look up at him with your brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“Explain your feelings towards me and us like you would in one of your books.”

“Oh…well,” Bucky winces as he looks at you, fearful that he overstepped his bounds, and pushed you too far, too fast. The two of you had been making great progress with this new step in your relationship, and he doesn’t want to offset it or have you regress.

”Never mind. Forget I asked.”

”No,” you strain out a giggle. Grabbing his arm with your free hand. “It’s not that simple, bubba. It…words don’t always flow, they just get caught in my throat, and don’t want to come out. And I usually close my eyes before I start writing, and imagine the scene. What are you doing?”

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, removing your hands off him before he steps in front of you. Squatting down a bit as he peeks over his shoulder, “Hop on, and close your eyes. You can whisper it in my ear.”

Exhaling loudly, you jump onto Bucky’s back, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you close your eyes. Letting your body feel everything that you feel about Bucky. “It’s new.”

“But good?” He asks. You give a quick peck to his neck. “I take that as a yes.”

“It’s so good,” you hum, wanting to express everything that you’re feeling at this moment. “It’s like this warmth deep inside my soul. It rushes out into every part of me, and wants me to always be with you because I don’t want to miss any breath that you take, or any blink of your eyes. I want to hear every groan of pain that you have because I want to be the one to make you feel better. It’s this rumbling fluttering feeling in my stomach that makes me feel like I’m in knots. It scares me and excites me all at the same time.”

Giving him a few nips to his neck, you move to right your head. Placing your mouth right behind the shell of his ear as you continue to whisper all the things that Bucky makes you feel. “Every time you touch me I get goose pimples, and this flood of…heat throughout every part of me. All the way to my soul, and to places I’ve never felt before. And I want you to explore those parts of me. And it’s like I’m home.”

“Hmm?” His voice is a whispered groan. You can feel his body tense under you, and you know why. He’d been starving his body of sexual gratification just to make sure that you were comfortable. He could also feel just how heated you are, right at your core. You meant more to him than a good lay, but each part of the past few minutes has his body on edge. Hyper alert of how your body is craving him as much as he craves you.

Your heated core presses into his back, making his aching cock twitch with a fervent need for your warmth. He is just about in a state of not seeing things clearly because of your pulse. The pulse that is in sync with his, and he felt it in your entire body. Throbbing harder than even he is. He’s tried to deny his animalistic needs because he felt like it was what you needed. But maybe you needed him in the same ways he needed you.

“Because my home is wherever you and our daughter are. Bucky, you can start calling me her mommy if you want to.”

“Please,” he strains out. Not even realizing himself how much he wanted Alpine to belong to both of you. Hearing you call him her daddy just felt so right, and he wanted you to feel the same way he did. That…yeah, the warmth.

“James, I love you,” he stops his walking right before you get to the complex. His body freezes as his eyes well up with tears. “I love you,” you whisper right behind his ear, and softly press a kiss before you wiggle out of his grasp.

Going to stand in front of him, your arms wrap around his waist. And you rest your chin on his chest as you stare up at him. “And I’m never going to get tired of saying that. I love you, James Buchannan Barnes.”

“I love you,” two broken people that had created a weird codependent relationship had no business falling in love. He needed you. Needed you every day and in every way. You are his best friend. The best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wanted to learn you all the more because of it. “I LOVE HER!”

Bucky throws his head back, yelling up at the sky before he looks back down at your scrunched up nose, and your eyes shining with the tears you weren’t allowing to spill over your lash line. “I love you.”

“And I want you to have all of me,” you slide out of his embrace, and pull him towards the door. “Tonight. I want us to rush into the apartment, and struggle to get each other's clothes off. But once we are completely bare in front of each other, I want our hands and lips to discover our bodies. Trace each line and curve with our fingertips. Intertwining every limb with the other until we’re too close to avoid your cock going into my cunt, and…”

His mouth crashes into yours as the two of you stumble into the building. A mad dash of hands roughly roaming over each other. Undoing buttons in the elevator until the two of you hit the door of the apartment and it’s a struggle to get in with the way you’re pulling off jackets and pulling apart shirts.

Crossing the threshold and the clothes fly at an alarming rate. Some in pieces others being tugged off at awkward angles because you need your mouth back on his. Thirsty for the taste of his mouth and you revel in it every time you get that tiny sip.

And just like you promised when you’re both naked, and pressed up against each other in a heated embrace the kissing stops, and his eyes peer so desperately into yours. He gulps, squeaking as he tries to talk. You can feel his pulse through his heavy cock that is pressing up against your stomach, “We can…we can stop whenever you want.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper as you start kissing down his chest. His hands caress your back as he watches you discover the hills and valleys on his chest. Dipping lower to kiss over every hard line that makes up his abs. Gazing up at him through your lashes. He isn’t sure if you knew how crazy you are making him feel, but he hopes you did.

No woman has ever shown him the care that you are. Making sure you kiss every scar with the most tender press of your lips. All this time he was spending hoping you were okay, he didn’t realize he wanted someone to do the same. And you had been. Not with words, but with how you took care of him. How you would jump up and run to the door with a smile just to greet him. Jumping into his arms, you would rub on his shoulders asking how his day was.

You felt real because you were. You didn’t want the amazing sex he could give you; you wanted him. His heart, body, and soul, and you had it. You had every part of him wrapped tightly around your little pinky finger, and he didn’t want it to ever unravel. He craved you like an addict to their next hit. He wanted to experience every part of life with you, including growing old.

Bucky never thought he was going to have a long life, and now he didn’t want to die before he was five hundred years old, and that still wouldn’t be enough time with you. Eternity was just the start of enough time with you.

His hands grip the underside of your ass before he picks you up. Letting your legs wrap around him as he takes the two of you to the bedroom. You are drenched and ready for him now, but you were right, he wanted his fingers and mouth to discover you first. He didn’t want this moment to end.

Sitting you on the edge of the bed, he yanks you back down the mattress when you try to scoot up the bed. Sinking to his knees, he starts at your toes, and kisses all the way up your leg. Stopping at the top of your thigh, he steals a glance at your glistening folds, kissing across your thigh before he makes his decent back down.

Moving to your right leg, he does the same motion. Finishing at your feet before he sits up a bit more. His eyes bore into yours before he leans forward, kissing over your mound. Right above the split, and you tremble. He is everywhere but where your body needs him. But you needed him more than your body.

His lips trail all over your soft pliable skin, and your fingers ghost over his arms and shoulders at the same speed. The tips of your fingers paint every inch of his flesh before he hovers over your body, and you take a haggard breath, giving your head a nod, “I can’t stand it anymore.”

”Good,” his legs move between your own, and he pushes you further apart. His digits slide down your arms, before he weaves his hands within yours, and pulls them above your head. “I can’t wait either,” slipping one hand free, he lines himself up with your entrance, “Don’t take your eyes off me,” he grunts.

”Okay,” your voice croaks out before he slowly descends inside of you. Moving at such an achingly slow pace, and making sure that your body memorizes the vein that runs over his cock. He makes sure that your velvety skin feels every inch of his head as it spears through your walls.

Biting on your lip, you are overcome with so much…just so much, but he shakes his head, “Do not withhold any sound from me, Shy. I need every part of this. If you wince, I want to know that it’s because of the stretch you feel as your body adjusts to me.”

“Okay,” he couldn’t fault you for becoming breathless, and unable to form words. He knew you’d been out of commission for a few years, and he could tell. Just like the proverbial walls around your heart, he would break, well stretch, these walls, too. He’d make sure that you learned how to take every inch of him. “Why did you stop?”

“Baby, I’m too deep.”

”No,” you want to cry. He wasn’t close enough, “I need to feel you on me. I belong to you, Bucky. Because you belong to me. I just,” Bucky slides completely home, and your words stop. Balls deep, and his weight is on every part of you. He is the most perfect feeling on you. Covered in Bucky. It’s what you wanted to be for the rest of your life.

Letting out the sweetest whimper when Bucky starts to slowly and steadily rut into you. Your body sounds vulgar with how wet you are, but your voice is the most angelic noise. Mewling, and calling out his name because nothing else mattered in the world. Only Bucky and you. The two of you had created a bubble of safety and care, and you had no desire to leave. Just wanted him. Always him.

“You’re my home,” you whisper as the constant fluttering knot in your stomach tightens. This is happening way too fast. No way is this going to last all night. You didn’t want to stop this feeling ever. “It’s…”

“It was always you,” Bucky pants out as his thrusts quicken. Normally he could last longer, but not this time. This time is overwhelming and feels too good. Nothing was better than this, and he was going to spend the rest of the weekend inside of you. Learning all the secrets to your body.

Even though you are struggling to hold on, he could feel your walls fluttering around him. Keeping your intense gaze just on him just like he asked you. “Thank you, Shy,” he coos, changing his angle he starts to drive into your warmth, and you gasp. The build up of the most beautiful high is becoming unbearable, but you weren’t finished just yet.

“Shy, let go for me, and we’ll do it again. And again. And again.”

“Promise?” your voice is hoarse as you choke down the need to come again.

“I’m never going to stop making love to you,” you let go as euphoria surges through every inch of your body. Racing through your blood, and making you all dizzy in the brain. Not even getting a chance to come back down when your walls grip around Bucky’s length so hungrily that his balls tighten and he shoots sticky warmth into the depths of your body, and you release again at the feeling of him in your belly.

”I love you,” you whimper, trying to ground yourself so you don’t lose sight of the face Bucky makes as he releases in a woman for the first time. Letting your body milk every drop of his thick cum as it blooms in your tummy like the best warmth.

“I love you, forever, Shy.”

”Forever.”

“Shy,” Bucky gives you a lingering kiss on your cheek as his left hand presses on the swell of your belly. He claims he could feel the baby better that way. His left hand is much more sensitive, and he wanted to feel the two of you growing and ‘swimming’. “Sweetheart, why don’t you ladies go whip up some lunch?”

“Of course, come on,” you grab Dove’s hand, pulling her into the kitchen. That was code for Bucky and Steve needed alone time. But his spoiled brat didn’t even want to leave him. She turns her head to look back at Steve giving you a clear view of her mark. She is completely stuck on him. Guess he finally sealed the deal.

You clear your throat, looking at her with your eyes wide, “They need a moment.”

“But…”

Ugh. You snap your fingers, and point into the kitchen, but she still looks back at Steve, “Dovey, follow Shy into the kitchen, and make me something real tasty, and we can share, okay?”

“Okay,” her body swishes back and forth, and she stands up a bit straighter, dropping your hand, and following you willingly. He tamed the brat. You were sure she still would stub up on him, and become a bit too childish for your liking, but even Bucky is watching Steve in an odd way.

“So how was it?” You ask with a smirk, as you pull out a few things from the fridge. The least you could do was talk to the girl. Maybe she wasn’t that bad.

“How was what?”

“Weren’t you a virgin?” Bashfully she looks down at the counter, finding her a seat in one of the stools. You’d have to hand her some things to chop, and hope she knew how to handle a knife. Her eyes never move back up to meet you, and you worry you made her shut down. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I just don’t even know how to begin to explain it,” you smile, sliding over a cutting board, knife and veggies. Without hesitation she starts slicing things up, and thinks? “It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt, and I can’t even begin to describe it. He loves me.”

“Steve told you that?” She shakes her head no, but her smile never fades. It’s the one thing Bucky said Steve claimed he’d never do again. Love. Of course he wouldn’t tell her, but sometimes a woman just knows.

“He pretty much told me without saying the words. We’re going to get married, and have babies like you,” sweet summer child. You and Bucky have built a relationship for years. Strangers to saviors to friends to lovers. She wouldn't understand your dynamic. “Every love story is different, but I do love mine and Steve’s.”

“Because he stalked you?”

“No,” she giggles, clearly forgetting the way that they met. “Because he had a goal, and he achieved it,” by breaking her down. “I’m not the person I was before. I feel like I have power, and a voice, and I’m desirable. I’d never felt like that before. My parents somewhat sheltered me. I don’t talk about Steve to them. They both want different things for me, and I just have spent so much time being the perfect girl for both of them. Dad wanted me to teach at a university, mom wanted me to be a pediatric nurse, so I went into early childhood education.”

“Do you have anyone you do talk to about Steve?”

She shrugs her shoulders as she bites into a carrot stick. “Just my sister. They don’t even know I talk to her. She’s my mom’s daughter, not my dad’s. She stopped trying to be perfect a long time ago,” there’s a sadness laced in her eyes as she stares at the cut veggies. “I don’t think they’d much approve.”

“Fuck ‘em,” she looks up at you with her brows furrowed, and a smile tingling to spread on her lips. You could see why Steve melted in her presence. You didn’t like seeing her sad because her smile is radiant. “How do you feel about Steve?”

“I love him,” no hesitation and with so much conviction.

“If they can’t see that you love him then why have them in your life? So what is it that your sister does?”

“Currently? Uh…changing her phone number again,” there is more to that story, and you’re not sure what.

“Their job — you’re around the business a lot. Are you using?” Her head shakes rapidly, taking a moment to look back where Steve and Bucky were, and her body goes frigid. “They’re just in the study with the door closed.”

“Steve doesn’t allow me to. He only lets me shotgun with him, or drink if he’s around. I’m a cheap drunk. And I get too flirty,” her giggle is awkward, and she avoids your eyes.

“IsYyur sister a junkie?”

“Not that bad. Steve says he doesn’t sell to her. I showed him her picture, and he told everyone while I was there not to sell to her. Told her that he would pay for her to go to rehab, and pay her phone bill so we knew where she was, and she disappeared for a while. She…she’s going to be okay. Steve will help.”

Walking over to her side of the counter, you open your arms wide. You understood addiction in people you love better than most. “Or you can just hold the baby?” With a sweet smile, she meets your hug, pulling back only to feel around your belly.

Steve shuffles in his seat as he stares at the monitors. Bucky doesn’t say anything as he watches his friend. “Shy and I like knowing where each other are in the house. She works here a lot and it’s a way for her to just see where I am.”

“I wasn’t questioning your need for cameras in your house. I’m just observing Dovey.”

“You’re looking awfully hard,” Steve straightens up only when you step away from Dove. Turning to look at his friend, but his eyes still wander over to the monitors. “So, why did you want to come here?”

“I want to apologize for what I did, but also the things I said about Shy.”

“Why?” Bucky cocks up an eyebrow at him. He’d love to have Steve graveling on his knees for the things he said about you.

“What do you mean why? I’m just apologizing and there’s no other fucking reason.”

“Don’t smoke in here,” he points a finger at his friend who started to touch his pocket. “We can walk outside, but this is a smoke free house. I’m asking why you’re apologizing because if it’s to ask me back, I’m not ready for that.”

“Why not?” Steve’s question shocks Bucky as he’s the one that turns to the monitor, pointing one of his fingers at the screens where you are. “I get it.”

“I don’t think you fully do, but you’re getting there.”

“So you’re just going to sit around and be a house husband for the rest of your life?”

“I could,” Bucky smiles, leaning back in his chair. “I could do that. Shy has had another successful book, and I made good investments. Just like you. My priority is my family now, Steve. And I can’t jeopardize her or our…you haven’t even asked me what we’re having.”

“This is a new thing for me,” he sighs. He’d been a horrible friend. Dove had told him as such. The more he talked to her, the more he realized how he had good people in his corner that wanted what was best for him. “What are you having?”

“He’s a boy. He’s all boy. Ember. Shy is insisting that Buchanan Barnes stays as well. She’s a bit of a romantic like that. I wanted a girl, but I hope he’s as in love with his mom as I am. She deserves another good man in her life. Speaking of family; I haven’t heard anything about Dove’s sister, Larkin. I still have our underground crew that stake out the trap houses,” he shakes his head, knowing it's the one thing that Steve couldn’t protect Dove from. That ugly world.

“Two weeks, Buck. That’s a long time out on the streets.”

“Look at me right now, and promise me that you haven’t done anything or sold to her,” Steve’s eyes roll up to look at Bucky. His face is somber and full of anger at the audacity in the question. “You love her,” Steve shakes his head no, confusion laced in every one of his features. The dramatic tonal shift in the conversation gives him whiplash. “I didn’t ask, you do.”

“I can’t love anymore.”

“Oh, bullshit, Steve. You can walk around acting like your heart is impenetrable because fucking Peggy left you for Rumlow, but you can’t fool me. You love her, and you need to tell her. Sam the other day was saying how different you are, and how you were already making preparations on a wedding, and future children, and where the fuck does that come from if it isn’t love?”

“Loyalty,” Bucky rolls his eyes as he looks at Steve. “It’s close enough to love, and it’s all that she’s going to get.”

“You’re a fucking dumbass, you know that? You have got Dove sitting on your cock asleep while people who can switch on you any minute see it. Yeah, information gets out, and it’s not just fucking Sam telling me this shit, Steve. You’re in love and you’ve gotten goddamn sloppy because of it. You show her the same fucking love that you gave Peggy, or you let her go. This life already consumed her sister, is that how you want to see Dove? Strung out? Selling her body for a hit, and too ashamed to seek help somewhere? You give her the same life you would have given Peggy. You tell her what she means to you, and you keep her away from that fucking life. Since when did you get so stupid?”

Steve sits in silence, letting his friend berate him. The only person besides Dove that can talk to Steve like this, and get away with it. “You got stupid when you let that little brat into your heart. You smile now. You’re looking for her fucking sister on the regular so Dove knows she’s okay. You have her lips burned into your skin just like she’s burned herself into your heart. Eventually if you don’t let the fire die down Steve, it burns away.”

“And only ashes and embers remain,” he smiles at his friend, almost laughing at the name Bucky and you chose for your son. Ember. The last remnants of a fire. The tiniest bit of spark that burns bright amongst the ashes. The light in the darknes.

“Do you want to lose Dove?”

“No,” his voice is ragged as his eyes move back to the monitor. Watching as her hands slide over your belly. Dove on her knees, whispering something to your son that Steve couldn’t hear, but he is addicted to seeing her so soft. Longing for the day where she was you.

“Steve, you’re going to. Whether it’s because you’re too fucking stubborn, or because of your stupidity. Do right by her when she’s with you, or let her go. She deserves someone who can give her this. When is enough, enough? Why are you still in this game? We’re getting too old, this is a young man’s game. You have more money than you could have ever possibly need.”

When was enough, enough?

“Steve, I love you, brother,” Steve meets Bucky’s eyes, and Bucky knows there’s still a human still left in his cold soul. “You see how easy that is? And I love you enough to tell you, I can’t go back into that life. I won’t leave my wife and son behind because of jail or death. Let’s go eat.”

When is enough, enough?

Next

Masterlist

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[susansontag]

studio ghibli ranking list let’s go

(will include nausicaä and the red turtle)

the these-are-actually-bad section:

24. earwig and the witch

actually the only one I haven’t watched so it’s cheeky to put it here. but I won’t be watching it and no one will blame me.

23. ocean waves

who sincerely cares about these teenagers they’re so annoying. if the boys had been gay it would have honestly been homophobic.

22. pom poko

this film is about shape-shifting raccoon dogs waging a war on humans and there’s copious jokes about their testicles. so on paper a perfect film. execution wise it’s so long and so boring and you care about none of them.

the cure-for-insomnia section:

21. tales from earthsea

hayao miyazaki was right to walk out of this one even though he probably is a terrible father for having done so. some of the animation was really nice but these protagonists made me yearn for the ocean waves cast because at least they have semi-personalities.

20. castle in the sky

proof miyazaki was judging his son too hard for earthsea because this is basically his version of the same thing: a nice idea with good animation and the most boring boy/girl protagonists imaginable. has got that whimsy he does so nicely however.

the passable-films section:

19. the cat returns

but should he have? was that really necessary? has a scene of cats walking in a procession on their hind legs though so that’s a plus.

18. arrietty

visually gorgeous but otherwise a very run-of-the-mill adaptation of the borrowers, which in something that should feel wondrous is less than ideal.

17. my neighbors the yamadas

some harmless and inventive fun that you can put on in the background whilst eating lunch or doing some light yoga stretches.

the don’t-harm-me-I’m-right section:

16. howl’s moving castle

yes I do in fact understand the intricacies of the plot and I still don’t care. this is one of ghibli’s messiest films for sure, it can’t decide what it wants to be or focus on and the plot just seems to happen and then not happen for no good reason. I also think howl’s a whiny bastard and hate that sophie has to mother him and endure his contemptible man tantrums. a shame because she’s actually cool.

15. grave of the fireflies

it was sweet but I’ve watched more moving animated films set in war-time, even. I don’t have much desire to watch it again honestly but maybe I will at some point.

the this-is-getting-there section:

14. the red turtle

I liked it! an acquired taste but I really felt the harshness of the elements and the cruelty and the love. it's also very beautiful to look at, one of the most visually arresting ghibli productions.

13. only yesterday

a tale of two films with this one. the parts where she's a young girl are much more interesting, but if this had stuck the landing and it'd been more even overall, could have potentially been a favourite. alas.

12. the wind rises

a genuinely weird one in ghibli's lineup, in which miyazaki meshes two different stories together (one of inventive 'genius' and a doomed love story, respectively) in a likely attempt to try and grapple with his having chosen his career over all else, including family (noteworthy is that his wife was not able to retain her career as an animator). as a piece of art it's less whimsical and more mature than many of these films, but I struggle to not let my distaste for what it potentially represents get in the way of my appreciation for it as a film, but it's so blatantly personal that it's impossible.

the that-was-just-a-good-fun-time section:

11. nausicaä of the valley of the wind

aesthetically one of the coolest films on this list but I don't remember the story as well. great protagonist too. must have been great to experience when it first came out in the '80s.

10. porco rosso

I love this film about a tomboy mechanic and some pilot guy who went off to war and was so changed he is now a pig. watching it feels like if the mediterranean was so small it fit into your back pocket and was also populated by all your friends all your enemies and your ex-lover also.

9. from up on poppy hill

I found this one boring the first time I watched it but it really grew on me with subsequent rewatches. I really like her predominantly female household and the community they share in the backdrop of the rest of the drama is sweet. the bit of drama midway through is still batshit though but in a loveable, disney-would-never way.

the near-perfect section:

8. the tale of the princess kaguya

probably takahata's magnum opus with the studio, if slightly overlong. folktales are tricky because they tend to feel moralistic and the characters one-note if you're not willing to build on them but kaguya herself feels very spirited and alive. the prettiest on the list too I'd say.

7. my neighbor totoro

cozy late summer comfort film. perhaps even more special now because I was able to see the london production. cute!

6. when marnie was there

surprised this one has ranked so high for me but that's the power of tomboy lesbians heck yeah etc. also the fantastical element of this one is so up my alley and touches upon a particular kind of childhood nostalgia I have of being in old houses and imbuing them with magical qualities. the image of anna facing the house across the marshland is burned into my retina.

the I'd-die-for-her section:

5. princess mononoke

aesthetically too cool for school and has one of the best ghibli villains and female characters (lady eboshi). they really said all the spirits of the forest are going to die in this one but well it was a nice thought.

4. ponyo

my comfort movie of all-time! heartwarming! with another great female ghibli character in lisa, sosuke's mum who is legally allowed to drive like that apparently. also one I actually watched for the first time in my childhood when I was around 7 or so at an after school club. the subtitles taught me the useful and now underused gem of a phrase "bog off".

3. kiki's delivery service

asks the important questions such as: what if you were a young witch from a dying tradition who moves to a gorgeous town in sweden? what if your remarkable gifts were no longer appreciated due to rapid advancements in aviation technology? what if you could live in a bakery?

2. spirited away

when you're just a timid child who is scared of admittedly a lot and your parents manage to mess everything up spectacularly so now you're forced to work at the age of twelve for people who steal your identity. still one of the best honestly they may never top this as the peak of their artistic achievement.

1. whisper of the heart

have you ever been a struggling artist? have you ever been in love? have you ever been obsessed with john denver's take me home, country roads? in all seriousness love a story of two artistically inclined people inspiring each other and this has a unique feel compared to other ghibli films forever favourite probably. it feels like basically no one has watched it and that's a shame. rest in peace yoshifumi kondō.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 5: From the Ground Up

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s time for Bucky to take charge in your absence.

Word count: 4,065

Content/warnings: Interrogation, restraints (not in the sexy way), allusions to violence, swears, name calling, pet name usage, female reader, kissing, horseback riding?

Author’s Note: I REALLY loved writing this chapter. This is where we start to see the other storylines of the Outta Nowhere AU emerge, so keep an eye out as those get released.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was mad-no, he was seething as he paced back and forth in your home office. It was in the wee hours of the morning when his private jet had landed on the local airstrip. Within that same hour, Sam had personally escorted in the little nerd responsible for a good third of the turmoil going on in Bucky’s head: Jake.

Sam had taken the liberty of pre-binding his hands and duct taping his mouth shut. Bucky was going to enjoy ripping the goatee straight off his mousy little face.

Five hours ago

As soon as Steve had gotten off the phone with Bucky, he called the construction crew. They kept them on call for things like this, but the two of them never thought the stakes would be this high. It wasn’t often that someone important and non-expendable was put in this type of danger, let alone someone Bucky cared about. As he was finishing up the call and directing them towards your house, Sam reached out to him with a sticky note.

On it was a name and the address to an apartment in the city, along with Sam’s scrawled ‘pick her up on your way over.’ Steve nodded as he hung up his call and placed another, grabbing the duffel bag he kept packed by the door and heading out.

Three Hours Later

Bucky hadn’t left your side since the rocks collapsed. Luckily, the two of you had been able to find a small gap in the rocks where you both sat. It wasn’t large enough to keep air circulating, but it was big enough to at least allow the two of you to talk with each other. You and Bucky had shared so much, from him sharing his first business operation with Steve, to you detailing crazy college stories of when you, your roommate, and Curtis would hang out.

Bucky laughed along. There was a whole side of you he never knew. He had studied intently what showed up on paper, and he knew the hardships you’d faced from your deep conversation last week, but this? This was a whole new, more playful side. He was surprised to see your spirits so high despite the situation.

“I do not believe that one bit. No way you were climbing up clock towers at school just to steal the clock hands, or a random brick or whatever. You’re too straight-laced.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you leaned your head back against the stone wall. “Oh please, people already pay so much to go there, if anything, I had more than the right to do it. Our money pays for that stuff. Technically we owned it. Not the school.”

Bucky snorted. “You didn’t even pay tuition. Didn’t they pay you to go there?”

“That’s besides the point, Bucket. Fight the man. And anyway, if you think I’m straight laced, you should meet my roommate.”

Bucky grimaced. “Yeah, about that. She’s on her way here right now.”

Your ears perked up. “Decks is on the way? Oh, that’s good. She’ll be super helpful. She’s so organized, although, I can’t imagine she took well to whoever had to interrupt her beauty sleep. Who’s the poor guy?”

Bucky sharply inhaled. “Steve.”

“Oooo hooo hoo.” You laughed. “That’ll be a fun one for both of them. They’re either gonna love or hate each other. What are all the rest of the ETAs?”

Bucky looked at his watch. Well, really, he had been checking his watch this whole time to monitor his pulse, which was over 100 consistently since the tunnel buckled. He was shaking with concern for you, but kept his voice level to keep you calm, a trick he and Steve had worked tirelessly to master. “Ummm… looks like the construction crew should be here within the hour. And I’ll bet Decks and Steve will be pulling up any minute.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Anyone else coming that I should know about? So I can figure out where they’ll best fit around the farm? Decks is great with the animals.”

You hadn’t heard all of Bucky’s or Curtis’s phone calls earlier since they stepped out of the cave to make them with better reception. Bucky didn’t want you to know Jake was on the way, mostly because he knew you’d make him promise not to hurt the rat, and he didn’t want to have to make that promise with the high likelihood it would be broken. He decided a better move would be to change the subject.

“So where did the nickname ‘Decks’ come from anyway?”

“Oh! Well it’s actually-“

Bucky heard footsteps near the mouth of the mine. He did his best to politely cut you off. “Wait, Honey, I’m so sorry, quiet for one second.”

He sat there and silently listened, the rustling becoming closer and clearer until he identified it as hooves clopping gently against the soft ground. He heard Curtis’s voice say something vaguely before he moved to get his feet underneath him and brush off his pants.

“I think Curtis is here with Steve and Decks. I don’t want anyone else to come in, just in case it’s still too unstable. Can you tell me exactly what you need them to do?”

You nodded, even though you knew Bucky couldn’t see it and began to lay out the instructions. Decks and Steve weren’t here to clean out the tunnels, they were here to help keep the farm running until you were freed, and no one knew how long that would take. It was best to keep only those who could be closely trusted around until this was all figured out. God forbid the authorities come knocking, or worse yet, Cole. Bucky held onto your every word before briefly leaving the tunnel to relay the information.

Bucky returned to you shortly after instructing Curtis to take Steve and Decks back to the house so they could rest before their long day tomorrow. Everything needed to run as smoothly as possible to not raise suspicion from your absence, which they were going to claim was due to a corn crop farmer’s conference out in Iowa if anyone asked.

After another hour with you, Bucky let you know the construction company arrived and was starting to stabilize the ceiling so they could dig you out. “I’ve gotta go deal with some business, so I’ll be back soon. Plus, I can’t get in the way of these vehicles. But say the word to one of the crew and I’ll be back here in a minute flat. I promise.”

Bucky’s promises meant a lot. That was something you had learned in your conversations. He never said something unless he had a plan to deliver. A man’s word was everything in his line of work.

“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that!” You yelled back.

Bucky chuckled. “I’m going to send Sam back here as soon as he arrives. He’ll keep you company.” And with that, Bucky made his way back to the house.

So this is where Bucky found himself, walking back and forth menacingly behind Jake, who had been tied down to the guest chair in your office. Jake’s eyes shifted back and forth with nervousness as he tried and failed to hold back whimpers and near-hyperventilating breaths.

Bucky had been silent for only ten minutes. He liked the way it made them squirm. He could sit and stare all day, completely unbothered, as anyone he interrogated slowly lost their mind. Of course, there were other, more fun ways, to get information, but he wouldn’t dare mark up your home. He’d never let the one they called ‘The Winter Soldier’ be unleashed in your sanctuary. This is the closest he would ever get, though, and it would never be seen by you.

Bucky stalked around Jake and crouched in front of him. “A milk maid came in here and told me that you’d given him information about this farm. Care to share?”

Jake shook his head vigorously and whined through the duct tape over his mouth. Bucky leaned in closer. What was more terrifying than being yelled at by him? Bucky with an alarmingly level voice.

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that. I can help you talk a little better, but you’ve gotta be quiet. There are people upstairs sleeping, and I can’t guarantee they’ll be as nice as me if you wake them. Promise to be good?”

Jake nodded carefully and slowly. Bucky reached for the tape at the corner of Jake’s mouth and ripped it off quickly. Jake’s head lurched forward, his mouth open with a silent scream between gasping breaths. Bucky examined the sticky side of the tape. There was no hair on it. The steam from Jake’s mouth must’ve reduced the stickiness just enough that it didn’t cause damage. Shame.

Bucky slammed his hands over Jake’s on the armrests of the chair. “Tell me everything.” He gritted out between clenched teeth.

Jake giggled uncomfortably. “Uh….there’s not really much to know, mister…sir….does this have to do with Peach? I thought she owned this farm now. Where is she?”

Bucky growled. “That’s not important right now, but yes, this is about this farm. Tell me everything you told the guy with the soft hands and the jackets that were too crisp to indicate a day of work in his whole life.”

Bucky had no intention to associate that with his own designer crisp suits that he wore everyday back in the city. That was different, it was a totally separate line of work, plus, he wasn’t trying to pose as something that he’s not when he wore them. Anyway, he’s not the one on trial here.

“Oh! You mean Cole? Fucking prick.” Jake mumbled looking down and to the side. “I can promise whatever he said to you was a lie. That guy’s always been awful. He hides a demon face behind his handsomeness.”

Bucky didn’t want to be on Jake’s side, but he couldn’t argue with that. But to keep him talking, Bucky leaned in closer, moving his hand towards the knife on his belt loop. Jake flinched and raised his hands in surrender as much as he could with his wrists tied down.

“Okay, okay, I promise I didn’t say much. At least not on purpose. I was at an investors party up in San Francisco when Cole bumped into me. He was bragging about how he had just inherited his parents’ company and it was way bigger than when we were in high school. Frankly, I didn’t care, I make an effort to forget about a lot from back then, mostly him, so I tried to disprove him by saying that there are still nice little farms around despite his family’s efforts. I told him I still had my mom buy me honey that Peach makes, herself.” He hung his head in shame.

Bucky huffed as he leaned back against your desk and crossed his arms. “Well, way to go. You know, they painted you to be some genius, but you’re an absolute idiot.”

Jake looked up and scrunched his nose. “Well I actually prefer the term loser, bu-“

Bucky raised his hand to stop Jake from talking. “I really don’t care. What matters is that you’ve made a mess for Honeybee that inconveniences all of us. I’ve gotta be the one to work on cleaning this up while she’s otherwise occupied.”

Jake cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow in confusion. “Who the fuck is ‘Honeybee?’ Are we talking about the same person?”

Bucky sighed and wiped a hand over his face, stopping with it covering his mouth. He looked at the helpless man in front of him. How had you ever dated this guy? If he used to be great, what on Earth happened to him? “God, you’re slow to catch on. Yes, it’s the same person, but I don’t think the sweet peach you used to know and love is in there anymore. Not after you abandoned her. And especially not after you gave up her operation on a silver platter to Cole.”

Jake swallowed as he caught on. He had seen the devious glint in Cole’s eye when they had run into each other, but just thought it was a product of Cole’s braggadocious success. Not his complete hunger for domination. Despite the way Jake left, he still cared for you. He didn’t want to see the thing you loved taken away, especially by the guy who caused him so much grief. The guy your family defended him from on so many occasions. He felt awful. You’d taken care of Jake when he was around, but when the opportunity came for him to do the same for you, he failed.

Tears began to well up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Whatever I can do to help, I will, please, misterrrr…….”

Bucky’s shoulders pushed back in arrogance. Jake squealed all the information he had and didn’t even know the name of the man interrogating him. That wouldn’t do, especially if Bucky wanted to eventually release Jake back out into the wild once this was all over. He made a mental note to have someone coach Jake on how to not give up sensitive intel so easily. But for now, Bucky would take advantage of the ease of informational access.

“Barnes. You get to call me Barnes.”

“Ooh! So like a cool nickname only I get to use? I feel so special.”

Bucky chuckled dryly at that. Jake really was clueless. “No. Not at all like that.” Bucky leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his face inched closer to Jake’s.

“Now tell me everything you know about the mines.”

Jake’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? Those old things? Yeah, Peach and I used to make out in the-“

Bucky waved his hand again as he closed his eyes, unable to look at Jake for another second. “No. Skip that part. What else?” He quickly said, dismissively.

“I know they’re old? Like crazy old and probably prone to collapse at this point. But Pe- I mean, your Honeybee does some occasional civil engineering contracting work. She could probably easily whip up a plan to reinforce them.”

Bucky looked at Jake more intently. He liked the way Jake said his Honeybee, but he couldn’t let that distract him right now. And anyway, you were very much your own person. Far from his. If anything, he was yours. He knew about all your business endeavors, but not those kinds of specifics. “Keep talking.”

“Yeah, I kept up with her after school-well, more like I asked my mom to keep up with her. Apparently she’s like, designed bridges for town and stuff. Why? What’s going on with the mines?”

“That’s not technically your business.” Bucky stood there, debating on his next move.

Jake’s eyes lit up as he gasped loudly. “Oh my gosh. Is she in trouble!? Did she get hurt in a mine!?”

Bucky slapped his hand over Jake’s mouth and whisper yelled at him. “What did I say about keeping it down?”

Jake winced and whispered back. “Sorry. Does Curtis know?”

Bucky nodded. “Yes. And he’s upstairs sleeping. Don’t. Poke. The Bear.”

Jake nodded again. He was being so compliant, Bucky figured he could let a few more details slip. Maybe Jake was a little smarter than Bucky gave him credit for. “She’s trapped in one of the smaller caves. I’ve already got a construction crew digging her out.”

“Wait wait wait. You guys have a proper plan for this, right? You’ve gotta put supports in first and then calculate the load-bearing rocks. You can’t just go willy-nilly digging or it could get worse.” Man, based off that language, Bucky had no doubt Jake truly did grow up around you.

“Good observation, Jakey. That’s where you come in. I know I could’ve just called you if I wanted to know what you told Cole, but I needed you in person to know how serious I am. Grab your little computer and we’ll get going so you can run the calculations while Honeybee talks you through them. You can still ride a horse, right?”

Jake moved to get up, only to be stopped by the restraints. Bucky turned around from the door, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Oh, that’s right, my bad. I’ll get you untied and then we can go.”

Sam was talking with you about where to put which construction vehicles when he heard hooves make their way to the entrance. Bucky dismounted the back of a horse holding a laptop, followed by Jake who was riding ahead of him on that same horse.

“Not a word of this, Samuel.” Bucky growled lowly into Sam’s ear with clenched teeth. “I’ve already threatened the kid with the same.”

Bucky still had no idea how to ride a horse on his own, but would never admit that, so he was actually extremely grateful that Jake could take the reins. Sam had taken the other horse to get to you, leaving only one back at the house for him and Jake to use.

Bucky handed Jake the laptop and patted him on the back harshly, making it more of a shove. This led him to the small hole where you and Sam had just been talking.

Bucky followed at a quicker pace, reaching the area just before Jake could and held his arm out in front of the blond to bar him from going any farther. “Hi Honey, it’s me. I brought you a little present to help out, I hope you’re not mad. It’s your old friend Jacob from high school. Say hi.”

“Jake? Like… Jensen?” You responded, trying to look through the small hole unsuccessfully.

“Yeah, Peach, it’s me. I’m here to get you out. A-and Mr. Barnes wants you to know he’s been nothing but kind to me.” Jake clutched his laptop firmly to his chest, leaning over to be heard better through the small opening.

Bucky gave a stern nod to Jake for already responding well to his coaching on the way over here. Jake sat down by the hole where Bucky had sat before and got to work.

“Okay, Bee. Like I told you before, you say the word and I’ll be here in a minute. You can time me.”

“Where are you going?” He could hear the slight worry in your voice.

“To run a farm. And by that, I mean listen to Curtis.”

You giggled. “Okay, Bucket. See you soon.”

He looked back and smiled before turning towards Sam and pointing into his chest. “You tell me the second she’s close to getting out. I’ll be there.”

Sam nodded. “Sure thing, boss. Need help getting back up on your horse?”

Bucky was already turned away and heading back to your house. He waved a hand dismissively. “No. I’m walking.”

Sam chuckled as he watched the mob boss trudge away. He knew something had shifted in Bucky’s feelings. And he definitely had his suspicions that Bucky couldn’t ride a horse.

When Bucky returned to your house, he didn’t go upstairs. He feared the creaking of the steps would wake Decks, Curtis, and Steve. Plus, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep. Why would he when there was so much to do to help you? He would just get in the way at the mines, so he went into your office. He pulled out the files and article you had planned to show him the previous night regarding Cole from the kitchen, and as he sat down in your chair, he saw a contract with a familiar watermark. Shit.

Fuck. Shit. Bitch.

The letterhead was from ‘Turners Farm Corporation,’ which he had expected, but the associated law firm was ‘Hansen & Co.’ Bucky had his fair share of law firms in his back pocket, but this was not one of them. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Lloyd Hansen was something of Bucky’s rival in the city. He was an unhinged lunatic. Where Bucky ran things with honor, poise, and calculated movements, Lloyd was messy, unpredictable, and reckless. He’d been trying to make multiple steps into Bucky’s territory, geographically and business-wise, but Bucky had done a decent job at shutting it down thus far.

And now Cole was in cahoots with Lloyd, well, not him directly on paper, just his bitch-ass sister who ran the firm. Bucky couldn’t believe-well, actually he could. He could believe that Cole would have teamed up with Hansen to build enough power for a takeover, especially considering it didn’t add up if Cole was making these moves on his own.

Fired by frustration that more than supplemented the sleep Bucky lacked from not just tonight, but this whole week, he snapped a picture of the contract and sent it to Sam. Sam would make sure it made its way through the right channels and contacts still back in the city. For now, Bucky had a more important priority than personally dealing with business: You. He had never been so grateful for Sam.

As he skimmed through the final page of the contract Cole had proposed to you, the first rooster crowed. Bucky got up to gather the eggs and make breakfast like any other day in the routine he’d grown so familiar with over just the past two weeks. But instead of cooking for you, he was cooking for the small army that came to your aid.

Curtis came barreling down the steps first, followed by Decks, and then eventually, Steve, who slumped and slinked down the stairs, reminiscent of Bucky’s first day doing the same. At least they were able to get themselves up.

Bucky plated their food, Curtis eyeing him with a small smile that Bucky failed to notice, and he sat down in his normal spot to start eating. He honestly didn’t have the appetite to do so, but he knew he’d crash without food since he already wasn’t sleeping, so he forced it down, preparing to go over the assignments with everyone once again.

Steve would be doing what Bucky had last week to set up the farmer’s market since it was scheduled to go again. Decks would be taking over the tasks you had, feeding the animals, and then doing sales with Bucky since people already knew his face. No need to raise more suspicion by introducing two new people to an event you were usually at.

Once everyone cleared their plates, they got to work, doing everything they could to be of assistance for the mob boss who was very evidently on edge.

It was early afternoon when Bucky got a call from Sam. He immediately picked it up.

“We’re close, boss. Only a couple more large boulders to go before there’s a big enough gap to pull her through.”

Bucky dropped the empty crates he was carrying onto the floor of the storage shed where he was returning them from the farmers market. Lucky for him, the storage shed was much closer to the mines than the barn.

Bucky was full-on sprinting in a way no one had ever seen. He never had to once he rose to power. All he did was walk, his long strides alone commanded enough respect. But this wasn’t about pride. It was about you.

He arrived at the mine entrance, breathing heavily, just as Sam was holding your hand, helping you step over a pile of sand and pebbles. Jake stood awkwardly to the side as you looked up from your feet to see Bucky quickly moving toward you. A smile took over your face and you sighed in relief. He scooped you up and spun you around before setting you down again and using his large hands to frame your face. Bucky didn’t care about the dirt and grime that had built up on the two of you. All he cared about was your safe return to his arms.

You watched as his eyes darted between yours and down to your lips. You wouldn’t hold back anymore. He had put all his resources into saving you, helping you. Without wasting another second, you leaned up on your toes and smashed your lips into his. When you pulled back, Bucky lost consciousness, collapsing in your arms.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Tbh I thought some moments in here were so funny, but I’d love to hear your thoughts!! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated!!! If I could, I’d make a secret handshake with you through the phone for following this plot line with me. 😉🤠

Series Taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

@vicmc624

@hawkeyes-queen

@blackhawkfanatic

[lu-vin-it]

Safe and Sound

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Baby Momma AU M.List

Summary: How you and Ellie first met, and how you and Ellie started dating.

Pairings: Ellie Williams x Reader

Pronouns Used: She/Her

Word Count: 1,284

Warnings: They smoke weed while underage

A/N: Ty to @stqrluvr for proofreading this!! Ily!!

This is apart of the Baby Momma Au but can be read as a stand alone fic.

Your Father was a Firefly like Tommy when they both met. They became friends quickly, and eventually both expressed how much they disdained being a Firefly. So they grabbed you and left. None of you knew where you were going, but they had to get out. 

They met Maria and her Father in Jackson soon after leaving and they graciously took you all in. Your Father, Tommy, and Maria built the town into what it came to be known as. The three were inseparable. 

Unfortunately, your Father died five years after you arrived, when you were fourteen. Tommy and Maria were quick to take you in, but his death was the start of the worst period of your life. 

You didn’t talk to anyone for months. It was as if your soul was ripped away when he died. Eventually though, you started leaving the house again, and trying to get out more, even talking to Maria and Tommy.

One day, you went to the dining hall like usual when you saw Tommy and Maria sitting with two strangers, a man, and a girl your age. You grabbed your food and planned on sitting alone before being called over by your guardians. You begrudgingly walked over.

“Joel, Ellie, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my brother Joel, and his.. ward, Ellie!” You give a small, curt, smile before sitting down and eating quietly. 

“Listen.. I’m grateful for your hospitality and all.. but it’d be nice to have a moment here. Maybe just family.” Joel grumbled towards Maria, sparing a glance at you too which made you sink into your seat. Tommy puts his arm around you and holds Maria’s hand. 

“Well.. Maria and Y/N are family.” 

“Oh shit! Congrats!” Ellie exclaims, she then hits Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, say congrats.” 

“Congrats.” He says with a sigh. “So.. Is she your daughter then?” Joel nods to you. Maria shakes her head. 

“Y/N’s Father was another founder. He died.. recently. We took her in.” The table goes quiet, you felt as though you could have exploded right then and there.

“Well.. how about a tour?” 

You walk besides Maria as her and Tommy tell the two newcomers about the community. 

“We settled here about seven years ago. Was just a handful of us back then.” You pretty much zoned everything else out as you walked. You only really tuned in when you got to the horse stables. Ellie was very excited about Shimmer, the youngest horse. 

“That’s Shimmer.” Ellie reaches out to pet her and you walk up beside her, putting Shimmer as well. 

“Shimmer, you’re so beautiful.” The brunette girl says to the horse. You smile to yourself, letting said smile disappear as soon as it comes.

“Well, I suppose they’re gonna want to take some showers.. get cleaned up.” They nod. “Y/N, why don’t you take Ellie back to the house and show her the shower? Would you mind letting her borrow some clothes too?” You shake your head. 

“C’mon.” You mumble as you start walking away from the adults. 

“So.. why are you so..” She holds her hand up to her chin. “Has anyone ever told you that you remind them of a vampire?” You scrunch up your face and stop. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re just kinda.. stoney. Stoned.” She giggles. “Wait. Are you stoned..?” Her face suddenly goes serious. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Are you?” 

“I asked first.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Oh. I’m not either.” You both continue walking. “So um.. What do you do for fun?” 

“I like comic books.” She gasps.

“Like Savage Starlight?” You smile and nod. “I love those comics! Do you have any?” 

“I have volumes 1 and 2. What about you?” You gave yourself a mental high five for engaging in the comics. 

“No way I have 3 and 5!” You gape at her. 

“Can I read them?” 

“Can I read 1 and 2?” 

It’s safe to say that you and Ellie were fast friends. You spent every second together until she left, and when she got back, even though she was sort of depressed, you cheered her right up when you told her Tommy found volume 4. 

You were best friends throughout your first relationships, hers being Cat and yours being a very brief situationship with Dina. 

“Y/N. Y/N. Cat kissed me.” Ellie holds your shoulders for support due to her literally buzzing with energy. You gape at her. 

“No way. Dude. Dina kissed me!” Her jaw drops. 

“We both got kissed at the same time!?” You nod. 

“We are actually platonic soulmates.” Ellie nods and points to you in agreement. 

And you were together through the breakups, too.

“Dina is blowing me off for Jesse.” Ellie’s shoulders sink. 

“No. Really?” You rub your nose. She sighs and wraps her arm around you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You deserve better than that.” 

A month later Joel knocked on your door and asked you to come over, that Ellie was locking herself in her room, and she wouldn’t talk to him. You grabbed your bag and ran to their house. 

She let you in pretty quickly. Her puffy eyes told you everything you needed to know. You locked the door behind you and opened a window before pulling out a few pre rolled joints from your bag. You offer it to your best friend and she accepts it immediately. 

After you were done with one joint, you finally asked her. She broke down. 

“She.. Cat.. We.. we broke up.” You sigh. 

“What can I do to help?” She slowly wraps her arms around you and cries into your shoulder. “I got you.” You whisper, rubbing circles into her back with your thumb. 

When you started forming crushes on each other, everyone could tell. Okay not everyone, you guys were as clueless and clueless could be. 

You weren’t really sure what it was that made you so nervous today. You had been in Ellie’s room a thousand times, you had done this exact thing at least a hundred times, nothing was different, so why was your stomach full of butterflies? Why was your heart racing whenever Ellie would glance at you? Why did you get embarrassed everytime she caught you staring? Why were you staring in the first place? It took at least five hangouts for you to realize what it was; you were forming a crush on her. 

For Ellie, she knew the second she started falling. She caught herself staring at your lips a little longer than a friend would and knew it was over. She tried to distance herself but gave up on that pretty quickly, deciding that she was going to let what was going to happen, happen. She even promised herself that she would let you lead the relationship, if there was to be one. 

And you did. The second you realized you had a crush on her, you went over and told her.

“Ellie, I love you and I love our friendship a lot, it means so much to me, so I think it’s best that we tell each other everything and I think that you deserve to know that.. Uh.. I have a crush on you.” You look at your feet. “I don’t expect anything from you—“ You're cut off by Ellie planting her lips on your own.  Her hand rests on the back of your head, and yours wraps around her waist. You smile into the kiss. You separated a few seconds later. “So.. Do you wanna go on a date then? I have some pretty good cooking skills.” She smiles. 

“I’d love that. Any day, please just name the date.” You grin at her eagerness. 

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[rae-gar-targaryen]

a thousand assumptions [tommy miller x fem!reader -- preview]

pairing: tommy miller x reader

rating: 18+, minors dni (this preview is safe)

Just a sneak peek. Full fic coming soon. Below the cutttt

✨ Let me know if you want a tag! ✨

“Your favorite flowers are magnolia blooms.”

You shake your head, allowing the feel of the sheet to softly scrape along the side of your cheek as you did so, gazing up through your lashes at the man above you. Placing all of his weight onto his one arm so that his other hand can caress your cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb a different kind of delightful scrape along your skin – a gentle, pleasurable rasp.

“No?” He asks, seeking assurance that you were the one mistaken, and not him.

Tommy Miller is nothing if not assured, the military breeding into him a kind of self-possession that the Fireflies have since affirmed.

“No,” you confirm, your lips curling into a half-smile as you allow Tommy to continue to caress your cheek. Not so keen to be seen in his eyes as favoring such a symbol for purity as a magnolia flower, not when the world was like this. “Though I remember reading once that magnolias were basically prehistoric. Cool, right? Still, not my favourite ... so, my turn.”

You prop up to peck at his lips before settling back down onto the mattress, eyeing Tommy as though he were prey.

“Do your worst,” Tommy purrs, skimming his hand down your cheek down and over your throat, pausing there to feel the evenness of your next breath, the smooth roll of your swallow – before continuing down and allowing the warmth of his palm to seep into the skin of your hip. His eyes sparkling and smiling at your form, roving you lazily with all the darkness and depth of slow-drip coffee. Something to be savored.

Moments like this were rare at the end of the world.

“Hmmm,” you ponder, allowing your eyes to roll over the man before you like a wave – washing over inky, obsidian curls that you had swept from his face with feverish fingers and totalitarian tugging, stuck at odd angles as a result of your passionate attention. Taking in the broad sweep of his shoulders and the expanse of warm, coppered skin littered with freckles like cocoa powder and the silvery crescent moons of nicks and scars, seemingly in equal measure.

You paused to savor the scars. Whether they were the result of his time in the military, an ill-advised barfight from the world before, or from a much-less savory present, you weren’t sure. And far be it from you to ask.

Tapping your chin as though deep in thought while you allowed yourself to savor his beauty in the creeping burnt-orange light of the rising morning, a stolen memory within a stolen moment.

Tommy, clearly having grown tired of waiting for you to provide your guess, sweeps over you fully now, pressing his lips to your neck, dotting the column of your throat with feverish kisses, imagining – or maybe he didn’t have to – the stutter in your already-fluttering pulse as he draws the bridge of his nose over the tender skin of your shoulder.

“No, no!" You squeal, urging Tommy to pause his amorous assault. "Wait, I’ve got it,” you announce, your fingers tangling in his curls once more and pulling him from your skin. Your eyes meeting his honeydrip ones while you deliver your answer, cupping his cheeks and locking your gaze with his. “You’re a younger sibling.”

And it’s a bold assumption to make, to phrase it in the present tense. Glaringly bold to assume that if he does have an older sibling, they’re still alive.

But you can’t take the words back once they’ve left your lips.

Tommy is silent for a moment, his eyes casting down to gaze unseeingly at the peaks of your collarbones before blinking and holding your gaze once more, the swirl of honey in them still glinting at you teasingly – your game still apparently intact. Lilting and loving.

“And how d’ya figure?” he presses, his lips curled into something that might be a smile – if it wasn’t so wistful.

“Your skin, here,” you release his jaw from your hold to allow the thumbs of each hand to trace the thin, fine-lined skin along the outsides of his eyes. “You have crow’s feet. But no lines here …” Your right thumb gently traces along the skin of his forehead between his eyebrows. “You’re someone who's laughed a lot, but not much stress. No frowning. No fretting. Just like a younger sibling – No cares in the world when you’ve got someone else to do your worrying. To look out for you."

Tommy is silent as you finish. You drop your hand from his face, resting it along your own skin as you figure his gaze, worrying your lower lip between your teeth as you figure you may have overstepped. May have ruined your little game.

A game you’ve played how many times now?

Something like "Twenty Questions" that’s become more like … "A Thousand Assumptions." Somewhere between spilling information from your lips and into his ears – the ears of the Fireflies, did you find yourself in Tommy’s arms. And then in his bed. Spilling other kinds of secrets, acknowledging truths about yourself in the guise of a game. A game where one of you would make an assumption that the other would have to confirm. A dangerous thing, to allow someone to know you in this climate.

And if you'd overstepped, it was a secret Tommy wasn't letting you in on.

His eyes followed the trail of his hand, from your throat back to your chin. His thumb finding your lower lip, tugging it loose from between your teeth, eyes following the plush of your flushed lip, his eyes dancing with mirth and want.

"Smart girl," Tommy rumbles. "You want your prize, sweet thing?"

Tommy surges forward, capturing your covered lower lip between his own, a means to swallow you whole with clandestine kisses and feverish longing. It's not as though he could give you forever. But he could give you this.

[revasserium]

How about "the cost of ambition" with Rook Hunt?

send me a prompt and i'll write u a drabble

the cost of ambition

rook; 472 words; fluff and a hint of angst and also a hint of rook with a pain kink LOL ; gn!reader

01.

he knows what it’s like to give, to love something hard enough to want it to go free.

the first time he sees you, he thinks he finally understands what freedom truly means.

02.

sometimes greatness, like beauty, is a more a curse cast than a gift bestowed.

“that’s not fair! how’re they getting full marks when they can’t even do magic?!”

“do you think the professors are being easier on them just cause they can’t do magic?”

“ugh. so unfair.”

rook sighs and tries to clear his throat loudly enough that you don’t hear the whispers, but one glance at your face tells him that it’s a lost cause.

“don’t mind them…” he says in a stab at his usual, flourishing bravado, “they’re simply jealous, ma cherie.”

“oh i know,” you say, but there’s a steely glint behind your eyes that holds him still as you turn to look at him, “but that just makes me want to beat them that much more.”

it’s then, he thinks, the he falls in love with you.

03.

he knows what it’s like to take, to love something hard enough to want it to never touch the light of day.

he swallows down the urge to hide you away, to steal you into the heart of the forest and never let you go.

04.

it is in the library, the first time you kiss him, nearly knocking his hat askew with the force. there’s a fire in you — he’s always known that, but it’s then that he tastes the flames licking into his chest from how hard your body is pressed to his and he knows himself a lost man.

and what a beautiful kind of losing.

as much sweet as it is bitter, as much soft as it is biting.

you sink your fingers into his fine flesh and he revels in the sting.

when you draw back from the kiss with blood on your lips and he flickers out his tongue to feel the cut on the edge of his mouth from what he’s sure were your teeth, he only grins and leans in to whisper —

“kiss me again, cherie — harder. i want to feel it properly when you make me bleed.”

05.

he knows what it’s like to lose, to unfurl his fingers to a firefly’s light and watch it fade away. to love something hard enough to hold it in his heart and not his hands. to know when time had run it’s course with him and with you.

he watches you go with a smile and the ocean behind his teeth.

“go, cherie… know that you take my heart with you, and it’ll always be yours to keep.”

[bucky-fricking-barnes]

Heroes in Our Midst

Title: Heroes in Our Midst

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: None, mostly fluff!

Summary: You invite the confused veteran at the grocery store to your Friendsgiving, but maybe you should’ve done a background check first.

A/N: Happy (belated) American Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! I’m so thankful for each and every one of you. I hope that everyone, whether you are celebrating today or not, is safe, healthy, and surrounded by those they love (and that love them back). Dividers are by @firefly-graphics​

The man in the baseball cap has been staring at the stuffing for five minutes now, and you’re on a deadline. You don’t really want to tell him that he’s in the way and that he’s completely blocking the bags you need for your Friendsgiving, nor do you want to reach out and force your way in. He looks lost, the poor thing, and it’s when he flinches at the pre-recorded holiday message over the PA system that you decide to intervene.

“You can’t go wrong with Stove Top,” you say, stepping a little closer. He frowns, turning to face you just enough for you to see his profile. 

What a jawline, you hum to yourself, and you, thankfully, manage not to say it out loud despite the fact that you’re running on only four hours of sleep. The holidays did you dirty this year.

“I’m sorry?” he asks.

And what a voice! You melt a little at the deep timbre of it.

You gesture at the red box to his left. “Stove Top. It’s pretty easy to make and it doesn’t taste half bad. It’s not homemade by any means, but it’ll do if you’re in a pinch.”

“Right.” He clears his throat and picks up a singular box, then sets it in his cart as if it might break if he weren’t careful.

Peering past him, you frown at his bounty. Along with the stuffing, this broad-shouldered man has selected a pitiful rotisserie chicken, a slightly smushed sweet potato pie, and a dented can of cranberry sauce. No doubt it was one of the last ones in the bin. People in your neighborhood apparently really love cranberries, much to your dismay. His isn’t the Thanksgiving dinner you would have chosen, but you remind yourself that not everyone is as lucky as you.

Some people spend the holidays all by themselves. A pang goes through your heart as the man steps down the aisle, finally allowing you to load up on the bags of stuffing you’ve been waiting on.

You toss four into your already overflowing cart and you’re reaching for a fifth when you feel the man’s eyes on you. Silently, you glance over in his direction before grabbing the bag and adding it to your bounty.

“Do you need another recommendation?” you ask, hoping that’s the only reason he’s watching you. There’ve been too many stories about creeps on the news lately and your heart skips a beat at the thought.

“You definitely look like someone who knows what they’re doing,” he replies. He nods at the cart and you grip the handle a little tighter.

“I’ve got a big family. And a boyfriend,” you add, just for good measure. “He’s waiting on me in the car.”

The man shakes his head and holds up his hands. “I’m not trying to hit on you, miss. I’m sorry if I gave the wrong impression. I’ve…” He clears his throat again and drops his hands, glancing back at his almost-empty shopping cart. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what? Shopped for a Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Something like that. Think you could help me out?”

Carefully, you push your cart closer so you can get a better look at his. He’s wearing dog tags, you notice, and a swell of sympathy makes your chest tight.

Of course, you think, and you could almost kick yourself. No wonder he’s so overwhelmed by all of the options.

“Well, the first thing I’ll need to know is how many people you’re cooking for. That’s a big factor,” you tell him.

Now that you’re closer, you’re able to get a clearer view of his face. He’s got kind eyes to go with the sharp jawline and beautiful voice, and you smile a little as he glances down at his purchases.

“Just me,” he says. “I couldn’t find a turkey small enough, hence the chicken.”

You frown. “Just you? That’s it?” He nods in confirmation and you purse your lips for a moment. “Honestly? You’re better off just getting one of the pre-packed meals by the deli or just going out to eat. Cooking a whole Thanksgiving dinner for yourself is a whole lot of hassle and a lot of stress for nothing.”

He shifts a little. “I’d rather cook as much as I can. This is the first Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time. I want it to be…” The man trails off, seemingly at a loss for what he wants.

“That’s understandable,” you say, nodding and offering him a small smile. “I noticed your dog tags. Where were you stationed?”

Automatically, he reaches up to tuck them inside his shirt, out of view. “Europe.”

“And you didn’t have Thanksgiving there?”

Your poor attempt to make conversation falls flat and the man forces a tight smile. “Is my dinner a completely lost cause?”

“Not necessarily. You’ve got a good foundation, you just need some fixings to spruce it up a bit. Some mashed potatoes, green beans, a salad, some mac-n-cheese, another pie…” He nods along, as if making a mental checklist as you speak. “That’s if you’re really dead set on this whole cooking thing, and obviously that’s more than just one person can eat. You’ll have a lot of leftovers to tide you over, which isn’t always a bad thing. Of course, there’s always another option…”

“Which is?” he asks.

The song changes overhead from a newer Christmas song to one of the classics and you can’t stop the next words that come out of your mouth,

“Come to my house for dinner.”

He seems just as surprised as you do, and you want to crawl into a hole. You scramble to correct yourself before the man, a complete stranger, can run away and tell all his friends and family about the weird girl in the grocery store who invited him to her house on one of the biggest holidays of the year when all he wanted was to know which brand of boxed mashed potatoes to buy.

“Of course, I’m sure you have other plans. I wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m not even really sure why I said that. I don’t normally—”

“I’d love to come, if it’s a genuine offer,” the man says, cutting you off. He smiles softly, a gratefulness shining in his eyes, even from underneath the baseball cap. “I’d hate to intrude on you and your family, though, or your fella. Boyfriend, I mean.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your cart. “Well, it’s— I actually don’t have a boyfriend. That was more of a let’s-scare-off-the-creeps-with-a-fake-boyfriend type thing, you know?”

“I’m… familiar with the tactic.”

By the way he says that, however, you’re not really sure he is. It’s endearing that he’s trying to save face in front of you, and you smile a little. When you lift your head, he’s watching you.

“I can text you my address, and what time to be there,” you add. “No pressure if something else comes up. I’m actually celebrating later this weekend with my friends—you know, Friendsgiving—so you’ve got some time to think about it. You don’t even need to bring anything if you don’t want. I usually do a lot of cooking and everyone else just brings something to drink or their leftovers from their own family dinners. It started out as a potluck, but it’s grown into something more over the past few years.”

His posture relaxes slightly. “That sounds nice.”

Smiling a little more, you hold out your hand. “Phone?”

After a beat, the man digs into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out something you haven’t seen in years. You manage to hold back your laugh, but the surprised noise can’t be helped. He looks a little shocked at the high-pitched outburst, then embarrassed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel bad, it’s just… I haven’t seen anyone with a Nokia in years. I mean, I think my grandpa probably still has one at his house… somewhere. We got him onto one of those little cheap smart phone things for senior citizens a few years ago.”

The tips of the mans ears are a bright pink as he hands the phone over to you, and you quickly start maneuvering your way to his contacts list. It takes a minute, but you finally get your name and number in, then hand it back.

“Y/N?” he reads, glancing up at you.

You nod. “And you’re…”

“Steve.” He stands a little straighter, a little taller, and you catch a glimpse of the great soldier he must be. “My name’s Steve.”

“It’s nice to meet you Steve. Send me a text so I have your number, okay? Then I can text back with the info. If you change your mind, though, there’s no need. I don’t want you to feel pressured to come, especially since we just met. I know that stranger danger is still a thing for adults.”

Nodding, he pockets his phone and grabs hold of his cart again. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Maybe I’ll see you soon. Thanks for the help with the stuffing.”

You can’t help but smile. He’s genuine, that’s for sure, and you watch him push his cart forward and turn the corner toward the produce section before finishing your own shopping. There’s a little bit more pep in your step as you head toward the registers.

Three days after Thanksgiving, Steve shows up for your annual Friendsgiving. He’s not the first person you’ve welcomed today, but you know for a fact that he’s been waiting outside near the bus stop for at least a half hour before he’d come up to the door.

Poor guy must be freezing out there.

“Hi! I’m glad you came!” You step out of the way so he can come in, then shut the door behind him.

Steve stands tall in the little entryway of your apartment. He’s got a bright blue tupperware bowl in his hands and he looks entirely out of place, so you decide to take a gentler, less enthusiastic approach. For someone who hasn’t had a real Thanksgiving in a long time, your cramped apartment filled with strangers, festive decorations, music, and several different kinds of cooking food is sure to overwhelm.

“Hey,” you say, coming around from behind him. You soften your smile and hope he perceives it as genuine. It is, of course, but you don’t want to seem unsure of your invitation, not after he’s made the effort to come and even bring something to share. “I really am glad you came. Do you want to put your dish in the kitchen? I can get you something to drink. Then you still have something to hold onto?”

He seems a little taken aback that you’d even noticed his tight grip on the bowl, but he nods anyway and follows you as you weave your way into your galley-style kitchen. Your neighbor is at the stove, stirring a pot of mac-n-cheese, and she smiles wide when Steve fills in the doorway behind you.

“You must be grocery store guy. We’ve been waiting for you,” she tells him.

You gape at her and whack the side of her arm. She laughs. “Gloria! Enough! Focus on the food, please! If you’re just going to gossip and spill my secrets, I’ll take care of the cooking myself!”

“No, we’re not having a repeat of last year,” she chides, still grinning. “You turn into a real mother hen when you’re in the kitchen. We all offer to help and yet you still complain that no one’s helping you!”

Steve’s cheeks are pink when you turn back to him, and you have a feeling it’s not just from the heat of the kitchen. Your own face feels a little warmer than it should and you force away the nervousness that bubbles up in your throat, instead trying to focus on clearing a spot for Steve’s contribution.

He sets the bowl down in the empty space you create and you try to sneak a peek. The silicone lid isn’t clear and your mind whirls with ways to ask him what he’d made, especially since he hadn’t seemed like the type of guy that can cook.

"Something to drink?” you finally offer, glancing up at him. “We’ve got beer, wine, juice, soda, coffee, water… Pretty much everything. There’ll be more options once everyone gets here.”

“Water’s fine, thanks.”

Nodding, you set about getting him a paper cup and scribbling his name on it with Sharpie, then making sure he gets his drink. You hand it off as the door opens and your work friends step in, cheering as the song changes to a newer favorite right as they arrive. 

“I hate to just leave you like this, but I need to go say hi to them,” you say. “If you want, there should be some serving spoons you can use for whatever you brought. You can figure out what works best since it’s your dish.” You gesture towards the drawer next to the stove as you back towards the kitchen doorway, and Steve obediently nods. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you, a small smile on his face. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll get the lay of the land soon enough.”

You try to take Steve’s words to heart as you head back to the living area. It doesn’t take long before you’re sucked into conversations and shenanigans with your friends, however, and when you finally remember you’d ditched him with Gloria, of all people, forty-five minutes have passed and you’ve finished the drink you’d poured just before his arrival. 

Grabbing the empty cup, you hightail it back to the kitchen, only to find him leaning against the counter and nodding along with one of her long-winded stories. He looks up when you stumble into the room and offers you a concerned look, but you quickly wave him off when he reaches out to help you. From the way he looks you over, you can tell he thinks you’re drunk, but you don’t know how to explain that you’re just frantic that Gloria is spilling your deepest, darkest secrets to the cutest guy you’ve met in months.

“Oh! Y/N! I was just telling Steve that story about my great aunt who worked for the USO during World War II,” Gloria says, and you glance over at her, confused.

“That’s great. I don’t think I remember that one. Did Steve tell you he was a veteran?”

Gloria’s brows furrow and she looks between you and Steve. He’s suddenly very interested in the empty cup in his hands and your stomach drops. Nerves set in as Gloria makes some paltry excuse for the two of you, then pulls you into the tiny hallway off the living area.

You wrench your arm from her grip in front of your closed bedroom door. “Gloria! What’s wrong with you? I mention that Steve’s a veteran and you suddenly start acting weird? I’m trying to make him feel welcome and you’re not helping!”

She shakes her head at you, scoffing lightly. Amusement twinkles in her eyes. “You have no idea who you invited, do you?”

The nerves are back, extinguishing any frustration you might have held with her. “What— I mean, I know he’s a nice enough guy. I didn’t exactly do a background check, but you’re starting to make me wish I had! Why?” you hiss.

“Y/N, that’s Steve Rogers.”

The name sounds vaguely familiar, but it doesn’t exactly ring any bells, so you just stare at her. “Okay? Does he work for the government or something? Is he a spy? Do I need to call the cops?”

She rolls her eyes and pulls her phone out of the pocket of her apron. You watch in silence, looking between the screen and the doorway to the kitchen. You can just barely see Steve still leaning against the counter, his shoulders slumped. Your heart clenches a little at the sight. 

He looks so lonely.

“Here,” Gloria says, shoving her phone into your hands.

You almost drop it, but you quickly right it and start reading. With every word that you’re able to process, your heart starts beating faster and faster. 

Captain America? World War II? Frozen in ice? Born in 1918?

“Holy—”

This time when you glance back at the kitchen, Steve is gone. You shove the phone back at your neighbor and hurry back down the hallway to see if he’d just moved out of your view to refill his cup, but there’s no sign of him at all. 

The living room is filled with your friends chatting, leaning into each other, snapping pictures in front of your decorations, and chowing down on the appetizers, but there’s no Steve. You’re turning in circles when you catch a glimpse of him out the window. His cap is back on and his head bowed as he walks back down the street, his hands in his pockets. He looks every bit like he’s making a run for it, albeit a casual one.

Heart pounding, you throw on the first pair of shoes you can find and race out the door. You’ve never taken the two flights of stairs faster, but Steve is still turning the corner when you finally make it out onto the street.

Curse his long legs!

You have to push your way through the early evening crowds, throwing out “excuse me’s” and apologies every which way until you finally catch up with him a few meters away from the stairs down to the subway.

“Steve!”

You grab at the arm of his jacket. He pushes you away from him on instinct, sending you flying into another passerby. His reflexes are quick, however, because he’s steadied you before you’re even halfway to the ground and the other person is only a few steps away. They grumble at the both of you and you and Steve both send them half-hearted apologies as he leads you out of the flow of traffic.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Sometimes I forget—” He shakes his head. “Are you okay? I should’ve been paying better attention.”

“I’m fine,” you reassure him. “I’m more worried about you! Why did you leave without saying goodbye? Is everything okay?”

He drops his gaze to the pigeon scavenging around the discounted pumpkins nearby. “I’m fine, Y/N. You should be back in your apartment. It’s freezing out here, and it’s getting dark.”

In your rush to get out the door and catch up with him, you hadn’t thought to grab a jacket, but you hadn’t processed the cold until now. You shiver, and he quickly sheds his own to drape over your shoulders.

“You left your bowl,” you dumbly tell him.

The corner of his mouth crooks up, but it’s sad. “Don’t worry about it. I can get another.”

You shake your head. “Steve, I— Why did you leave? Is it because of something I did? Or something someone said? I promise that they’re all good people, it’s just sometimes when they drink, they get a little—”

“It’s not anything you or your friends did,” he says. “I promise. They were all wonderful and Gloria was very nice to me. I’m grateful that you welcomed me into your home even though we barely knew each other. Most people wouldn’t do something like that, not nowadays.”

“Then why?”

He sighs and looks up through the windows of the store behind you, watching the customers aimlessly browse the aisles for a long moment. Steve doesn’t meet your eyes when he speaks again, but you watch him fervently, searching for any sign of dishonesty or distress.

“Because I was worried that you’d be uncomfortable around me now that you know who I am,” he finally answers.

You shake your head again. “I don’t understand. Who you are? I know who you are. I mean, I already did, before Gloria showed me that article.”

His jaw clenches and you draw the jacket tighter around you when he steps away and adjusts his cap against a chilly breeze. His face and ears are pink from the cold, too. It’s not quite winter yet, but it’s rearing its ugly head.

“You’re Steve,” you continue, closing the distance between the two of you. “And you’re my dinner guest.”

“Y/N—”

“If we made you uncomfortable, then I understand you wanting to leave. You have every right to go home, if that’s the case. But my perception of you hasn’t changed now that I know more about your past. Knowing all the amazing, wonderful, selfless things you’ve done makes me want you to stay even more now, because it reminds me that it’s people like you that I’m thankful for. Who knows, I may not even be here if it weren’t for you saving New York.”

You take a beat, catching your breath a little in the cold evening air. “Steve,” you continue, as earnest as you can, “I want you to stay. Please.”

He ducks his head and you have to crane your neck to see his face underneath the brim of his hat. If the lights from the shop were a little brighter, you might be certain that there are tears in his eyes, but you’ll play it off as a trick of shadows for his sake.

“I’m more than just that guy in the article. They exaggerated things, and I am a veteran. I’ve done things I’m not proud of,” he tells you, and you nod. After a moment, you hold out your hand.

“Then it’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve Rogers. I’d really like to get to know you. All of you, not just the published stuff, if that’s okay.”

Steve stares at your outstretched hand for several moments, and you’re inwardly cringing and trying to think of a graceful way to recover when he finally shakes it. You have to hold back a relieved sigh as you smile.

“I don’t suppose I could invite you to my Friendsgiving for a second time?” you ask.

Much to your surprise, Steve chuckles. His hand is warm around yours and you shiver once he drops it. You tuck your hands into the pockets of his coat as the two of you turn and start walking back towards your apartment. He measures his stride to keep step alongside you, his body a barrier between you and the surging flow of people on the sidewalk, and you glance up at him with a smile.

“Well, I did leave my bowl,” he says, smiling down at you.

“Of course. That’s irreplaceable, so you’ll have to come back and get it. And while you’re here, you might as well stay for some dinner. I’d hate to send you home hungry.”

He holds open the door to your building and you duck under his arm into the overpowering warmth of the lobby. “Of course,” Steve replies. “That would be rude.”

“And I’d hate to have you think I’m a bad host.” You’re still smiling as you head up the stairs and open the apartment door, and you and Steve are greeted once again by your friends, most of which had never even realized that you’d disappeared. They’re none the wiser to your little escapade, and to Steve’s identity, but that’s just another thing that you’re thankful for.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

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[a-really-bad-decision]

Look. I get that folks who are approaching the finale from this angle are usually doing so from a place of genuine good faith and love for Joel. But like. If your immediate reaction after finishing season 1 is to insist that the cure never could have been developed/distributed/tested/viable and that the Fireflies were stupid/naive/slapdicks/never could have accomplished it anyways, so Joel Definitely Did Nothing Wrong, I can’t help but feel like you’re wildly missing the point of it all.

Because like. Joel did not ever care if the cure could have worked. He did not care if it’s what Ellie might have wanted in that moment (neither did the fireflies of course, but they’re not the ones who traveled by her side, protected her, made her feel safe and cared about). Neither of these were ever a point of consideration in the finale. Ellie’s death and the resultant hypothetical cure could have had a guaranteed 100% success rate. It could have spread instantly, around the world the moment they removed her brain from her skull, turning every single runner, clicker, and bloater back to a healthy human being, with no deleterious side effect.

And Joel still would have shot that doctor point blank in the face.

Because that moment right there, is the point. To me at least. It’s the climax that the whole story has been building towards: a father’s beautiful, selfish decision to save his daughter at the literal cost of the entire world. And not just the world in an abstract sense, but in ways that carry weight to him on a deeply personal level. Tess’ dying wish. A real future for his niece or nephew. Ellie’s own agency in all of this. And he did it without hesitating for a moment.

Going from treating Ellie like cargo, like a clicker waiting to happen, to deciding that her life is more important to him than than any other human being who was or ever will be born? Regardless of whether it’s “““healthy”””, that’s an incredible fucking relationship arc. And it only has this level of gravity and meaning if there are genuine consequences to making that decision.

(And let me be clear here: none of this is a moral indictment of Joel. Joel’s motivations, actions, decisions etc. are all incredibly blatant, human, and relatable, and if he’d done anything but go on that rampage, it would have contradicted everything we know and understand about him so far. Also, he’s fucking fictional. Who gives a shit if he did a Kinda Amoral Thing. None of it is real, and it doesn’t matter)

The argument here isn’t that Fireflies Good And Smart And Can Totally Save The World For Sure Guys, or Joel Did Objectively Bad Thing And Is Unforgivable Bad Forever Now. The argument is that the show is much more interesting and internally consistent if you buy into the idea that there’s a chance, even a slim one, that the fireflies could have extracted a viable vaccine at the terrible cost of a fourteen year old girl’s life. That maybe Joel did prevent a cure from being made – that he potentially did doom the world for Ellie (or at least doomed it to another few decades of limping painfully by until something else came along). And that despite the cost, he pulled that trigger, brutally and without hesitation. He did it knowing that he’ll have to go on living with the knowledge of what he took from everyone, and how effortless it was to make that choice in spite of it all. That he’ll willingly betray Ellie’s trust as many times as he has to if it means keeping her from taking the burden of that guilt on herself, but also because he can’t bear the thought of her hating him if she learned the truth. And most of all (and in his own words), that if he was given the chance to go back and do it again, he would have made the exact same choice all over.

You take that out, and what kinda finale do you get now? A run and gun scene of a man rescuing a girl that he’s come to love, sure, but now it’s from a bunch of one dimensional, child murdering villains, set in a place they never had to go to, preceded by a journey that was rendered useless before they even left, all because there was never any chance of it working in the first place. Pointless roundabout cynicism, and an endpoint that now textually only existed to stick the protagonists in their get along sweater.

You don’t have to agree with this specific interpretation of the ending. I get that this can come across as a harsh reading of Joel, especially since he’s a character that myself and others genuinely like a lot. But that nitpicky fixation on proving that the cure never could have worked always felt more for the benefit of the uncomfortable player/viewer than as any sort of actual narrative improvement. A way to divest yourself of ever having to sit with the weight of either choice. Of having to think about the way that a secret so massive, sitting unspoken between you and a loved one, can rot that relationship. Of the way that someone you thought you trusted can act in your best interests, but against your own wishes.

And if that’s not what you want from the show, genuinely and without judgment: that’s fine. You keep doing you. I’m just not sure why you’re watching something like tlou otherwise.

[jobean12-blog]

Just One Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Beefy!CEO!Bucky x reader)

Word Count: 4,368

Summary: He’s rude and slightly obnoxious but you can’t deny your attraction to him so when he shows you a piece of his softer side is it enough to get you hooked for just one night. 

Author’s Note: I love when Bucky is some kind of boss; mafia, ceo, anything like that and I love writing tension and Bucky being a bit grumpy and sassy- although here he’s a bit of an ass at first! I’m thinking about doing a little more with this but we’ll see! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you so much to my sweet Daisy @firefly-graphics for the divider! 🥰

Warnings: Bucky starts off a bit rude and acts like an ass, unwanted male attention, tension, flirting, implied sexy times, some soft and sweet moments, alcohol comsumption (18 + ONLY PLEASE!!!)

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @veronicaphoenix thank you lovely! 🥰

Your heels click against the concrete steps but the sound is muffled by the large crowd of people you’re trying to push through to catch the train. When you reach the platform the doors are starting to close and you barely slip through at the last minute, your body lurching forward when the train takes off.

On a loud exhale you search the train car for an empty seat, your relief palpable when you spot one at the end of the nearby row. You shuffle over and sit, accidentally knocking into the thigh of the man sitting next to you.

He doesn’t look up from his book as you offer an apologetic smile and instead spreads his legs wider to take up more space. Your mouth falls open at his obvious rudeness and you let out a small huff of annoyance.

Unperturbed by your frustration he continues to focus on his reading and you take a moment to look him over. He’s obviously very tall, his long legs sticking out into the aisle even as they’re bent at the knees. His broad shoulder bumps yours every time the train comes to a stop and in his large hands the book he’s holding almost looks comical.

When your eyes meet his profile you find it hard to deny how handsome he is. His sharp jaw is masculine and lined with a dark stubble that’s peppered with gray to accentuate his ruggedness and his face is framed by shoulder length locks of chocolate brown hair.

His full lips are pressed together in thought as he continues to read, absentmindedly lifting his long fingers to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ears. He shifts to a more comfortable position and in the process presses his leg against yours and knocks into you with his shoulder.

You clear your throat, giving him a wide eyed ‘what the fuck’ look but he never removes his eyes from his book.

“Do you mind?” you ask, talking through gritted teeth.

His head snaps your way and you’re met with the most piercing blue eyes you’ve ever seen, the color rivaling even the most beautiful ocean. He stares down at you through long dark lashes, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he smirks.

“Crowded today, isn’t it?” he replies then looks back down at his book.

“Yes! And you could spare a little room don’t you think?”

“Not my fault these seats are too small,” he shrugs, the action causing another brush of his shoulder against yours.

Your mouth hangs open with your sassy retort but you never get to make it because the train conductor announces the next stop which happens to be yours, and also his, as he stands abruptly, once again knocking into you.

Without another word he steps off the train and disappears onto the crowded platform. You mutter a curse and follow him out, stomping the whole way up the steps and out onto the street.

You turn down the next block and head toward your favorite coffee shop, already smiling at the thought of having a warm cup of your favorite drink.

The shop is crowded and the line is long but you don’t mind waiting because you know it will be worth it. You put your order in with the barista and step to the side, waiting to hear your order called. You whip your phone out and text your best friend, Nat, letting her know you have a story for her and will call when you get home.

The barista calls out your order and you take a few steps toward the counter, suddenly bumping into something hard as you reach out for your drink.

“What the…?”

“Thanks!” you hear a man say, the voice oddly familiar.

When you look up your eyes narrow at the same man from the train.

“What? Is the coffee shop too small for you too?” you ask in rush of anger.

“Nah doll, I’m just grabbing my coffee.”

He gives you a panty melting wink and a smile before taking a sip.

“That’s my coffee!” you shout at him.

He only smiles again, humming contentedly at the taste.  

You stand there in complete shock, the endearment he used going unnoticed by you as you focus on the fact that he stole your drink.

“He actually ordered the same thing you did,” the barista says, snapping you out of your glaring.

“Huh?” you say as you turn around.

“He ordered the exact same thing you did,” she explains again.

“He did?” you question on a sigh. “Well, that still doesn’t mean he should have just, you know, jammed himself in front of me and all that…”

You say these last words as you stare at the man, your face scrunched up in a scowl.

“Well, don’t worry,” the barista says sympathetically, “I’ve got your drink right here.”

She holds up your cup with a smile and you thank her, wrapping your fingers around the warmth before bringing it to your lips and moaning in pleasure when the liquid meets your tongue.  

You hear a grunt of frustration and see the rude train passenger and coffee thief staring at you, his look unreadable.

“I have a meeting to get to,” he grits out.

And with that he turns on his heel and rushes out of the shop.

“You wouldn’t believe it Nat. He was literally taking up two seats and didn’t care! His response was so ridiculous!” you huff into the phone. “Not my fault these seats are too small,” you recall in a mocking tone. “UGH!”

“You remember what he said?” Nat asks, her amusement clearly evident in her tone.

“I can hear you smiling NAT! This is NOT funny,” you groan.

“But he was hot so who cares,” she sighs.

“I care! He was rude!”

“AND HOT!” she says again.

“You didn’t even see him,” you snark.

“Well, from the way you described him and how he’s gotten under your skin I’m sure he was gorgeous.”

“Me? Under my…he…WHAT?”

At your exasperation she snorts but quickly recovers. “Ok, ok, he was rude…but still hot!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, adding, “AND I DIDN’T EVEN TELL YOU HOW HE STOLE MY COFFEE!!”

“He stole your coffee?”

Her confused tone makes you smile and after you explain what the did at the coffee shop she lets out a huff and says, “well, when I see you at dinner later we can have drinks and toast to his demise.”

“Perfect,” you grin before saying goodbye.

After a much-needed hot shower and freshening up you try to decide what to wear. You and Nat are trying out the new and trendy restaurant/bar uptown and you feel like dressing up.

With your outfit perfectly primed and make up done you step out onto the sidewalk to hail a cab. It doesn’t take you long to get one and you shoot Nat a text once you’re closer to the place.

Your phone rings as soon as your text goes through.

“I can’t make it,” she sighs into the phone. “Clint broke his foot.”

“WHAT?” you ask. “How?”

“At work, he dropped some heavy piece of equipment on it…some kind of mixer thingy and now he’s at the hospital.”

“Oh my gosh Nat, he’s ok though right?”

“Yeah, yeah he’s fine but he’s already bitching” she groans.

You try not to laugh. “I would have thought it would have been a knife injury…you know with him being a chef and all.”

“That’s what I said! Who drops mixy things on their feet?!” she yells.

“Well, don’t worry about anything. Just let me know if you guys need me and tell him I hope he feels better.”

“Thanks babe,” she whispers. “I’m sorry to cancel on you so last minute.”

“We’ll go out soon,” you assure her.

The cab pulls up to the restaurant and you pay and exit the vehicle, smiling at the pretty string of lights that frames the entrance.

You step inside and scan the space, finding an empty seat at the bar. As you walk toward it you can feel the eyes of several men seated together at a nearby table. You avert your gaze and focus on getting to your seat.

The bartender catches your eye and smiles but it falls as he turns to see a man abruptly take the seat and throw some cash onto the bar.

The man turns to you, his ocean blue stare calm as the tranquil sea.  

“This seat is taken,” he says.

No freaking way.

“Yes it most certainly is! BY ME!”

“Have you ordered a drink yet?” he asks, raising a brow. “Because I already have and as a paying customer I’m entitled to the seat.”

You lift your eyes to the ceiling and take a deep breath.

“First you barely leave me an inch of space on the train, steal my coffee and now you won’t even offer me a seat!”

“Doll,” he starts. “I’m sure one will open up soon.”

“Don’t ‘doll’ me!” you snap. “I’m not your doll!”

You start to shrug the jacket off your shoulders, pulling it free from your body and hanging it over your arm. Even as you concentrate on your actions you can feel his eyes on you and when you catch him staring he does nothing to hide the way his gaze skims down your body, lingering on all the areas your dress clings to your curves.

A shiver you detest for it’s betrayal slides down your spine and you narrow your eyes.

The bartender interjects, pulling you from the moment and clearly hoping to diffuse the tension between you two.

“I’d be happy to show you to a table miss,” he says with a smile.

You huff at ocean eyes and then give the bartender a quiet “thank you,” before following him, but not without throwing one more death glare over your shoulder. To your surprise, those ocean eyes are following you with an intense heat.

You turn away and lift your chin, sitting down with a thump and promptly ordering a strong drink.

The bartender says he’ll put your drink order in and a waiter will be with you shortly before he hurries back to the bar.

You pull out your phone and wait, distracting yourself with an update to Nat about the rude (but still hot) man and asking her about Clint.

The sound of a glass hitting the table makes you look up and when you see your drink your lips turn down into a frown.

“I didn’t order this,” you say politely.

“I know,” the bartender says, looking nervously back to the bar. “James did.”

“James,” you whisper, turning your eyes to the bar until they lock with your least favorite person.

“He insisted,” the bartender squeaks. “I can bring you something else if you like.”

“It’s fine,” you tell the bartender, softening at his clear anxiety. “Thank you.”

He smiles with relief and starts to turn away.

“But” you say,” please tell James, and you give the bartender your name with a saccharine smile, is not interested in his charity. I can buy my own drinks!”

The bartender nods with wide eyes and hurries off.

“Poor guy,” you mumble and sip the drink.

It’s surprisingly delicious and it makes you mad but before you can march back over to the bar and give James a piece of your mind someone slides into the booth across from you.

Slowly you lift your eyes, annoyance already heating your skin when you find a random guy smirking at you.

“You can’t be eating alone?” he asks, his eyes dropping to your cleavage.

Instead of replying you hope your deadpan expression will say enough but unfortunately it does little to deter him.

“There’s no way,” he smiles, letting his gaze linger. “I’m Greg, let me join you.”

“I appreciate your concern, Greg, but I’m looking forward to having a quiet bite alone, thank you.”

You return your attention to your phone and it takes him a moment but he finally gets up.

Your relieved sigh is short lived when you feel like you’re being watched. You peek over your shoulder to see the group of men that had been eyeing you when you walked in now staring like vultures.

Without a second glance you turn away and try to focus on finding something to order but you’re interrupted by asshole number two as he approaches your table and leans on it.

“Sorry about Greg. I knew there was no way you’d be interested in a guy like him. I tried to explain that to him but…anyway…I’m Rob.”

At the new strangers words, you glare and curl your lip.

Completely oblivious to your irritation he slides into the booth and gives you a cocky grin.

“Well, Bob…”

“It’s Rob.”

“I really don’t mean to be rude and like I told your friend, I just want to have a quiet meal alone. So, if you wouldn’t mind…”

You make a gesture for him to leave the booth.

He leans forward, looking you over in a way that makes your skin crawl.

“I get it. You’re all by yourself, feeling a little defensive maybe, but don’t worry. I’m a nice guy.”

“Rob,” you smile, and his eyes light up with victory. “If you don’t get out of this booth right now I’m going to scream bloody murder.”

His triumphant grin quickly fades and is replaced with shock.

“No need to be rude,” he sneers.

“I wasn’t the one who sat down at a table I was invited to sit down at!” you seethe.

Rob let’s out a calming breath. “I think we got off to a bad start…”

“Get the hell out of my booth.”

Rob’s expression turns to anger and he shuffles out of the seat, shooting you one last scowl before he stomps back to his table of friends.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for your drink and you try to calm your nerves. The niggle of their presence doesn’t wane and you feel your stomach drop when you see another figure approaching the table out of the corner of your eye.

Deciding you’d rather eat alone at home; you reach for your bag and start to slide out of the seat.

“Stay.”

Your eyes fly up to familiar ocean blue and the voice that makes you tingle in all the right places. He towers over you for a second before moving into the booth opposite you.

You can only stare, stunned.

Finally, able to surrender your eyes from his you let your gaze drift over him.

His suit jacket is fitted snugly across his broad shoulders, the dark material pulled tightly around his large biceps as he leans his arms along the table. The collar of his black shirt is open, the first few buttons undone to expose a light smattering of the hair lining his chest.

You can smell the clean scent of his shampoo mixed with something distinctly him and when he runs a hand through his hair you realize it’s still damp from a shower.

The thought of him naked and wet under a stream of water makes your skin flush hot and when you start to imagine the droplets of water running down his body it completely overwhelms you.

“This is better than me beating the shit out of one or all of those assholes right?” he asks, stirring you from your trance.

You look back at the table of random guys, all of them staring at you with disgruntled faces before you look back at James with confusion.

“Me being here will keep them away,” he explains.

“Right,” you start, lifting your drink to your lips. “But why help me?”

James watches as you take long sip of your drink, his eyes falling to your lips.

“You might think I’m rude but I won’t let any woman be harassed.”

“This is the time when I say thank you, right?”

His eyes move back up to yours and he waits, his lips twitching upward at your teasing.

“So even though you’re an inconsiderate train passenger and you won’t make space for a lady…and you stole my coffee at the coffee shop” you continue, ticking off his offenses on your fingers. “And you bought me a drink I didn’t ask for…”

His face brightens with a full-on smile and it momentarily distracts you from your mini rant. His smile does all sorts of things to your insides, things you want to deny.

“But” he adds, smirking.

“But now that you saved me from those assholes I’m just supposed to forget all that.”

“The list isn’t that long,” he says, taking a sip of his whiskey. “And besides, I think you like arguing with me.”

You let out a breath along with your smile and hold out your hand, properly introducing yourself.

He takes your outstretched hand in his and brings your knuckles to his lips, kissing them softly. You try to hide the way the brush of his lips sends a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine but it’s useless, his cocky grin telling you just so.

“James Bucky Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

“What if I like James better?” you ask as you look him over.

“You can call me whatever you want doll face.”

He studies you over his glass, doing nothing to hide the obvious appreciation in his gaze.

“So, what do you do James?”

“Small talk?” he counters with a lopsided grin.

“I could keep arguing with you instead, if you would rather?”

His grin widens but he doesn’t divulge much information.

“I’m a business owner.”

“What kind of business?” you prod, but make sure to smile so he knows you’re not really pushing too far.

“The kind that makes me plenty of money,” he says, flashing you a grin.

“Odd that you were riding the subway then. I would expect you to be driving a fancy car down the streets of Manhattan or have a driver.”

“I enjoy an occasional ride on the subway. I grew up in Brooklyn and sometimes I get nostalgic.”

The waiter suddenly appears at your table, looking flustered.

“Are you ordering from here now?” he asks, glancing between you both.

Bucky nods and you give the waiter a smile.

“Sorry for the confusion,” you say sweetly. “He just couldn’t stay away from me.”

When you turn your eyes toward Bucky he’s staring at you with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“She’s right,” Bucky says. “How could I stay away from such a gorgeous woman?”

You unabashedly preen under his praise, inwardly berating yourself for letting this man get under your skin so quickly.

Once the waiter takes your order and leaves your stomach grumbles loudly.

“The service is quick here, don’t worry,” Bucky states with a wink.

“Have you been here before? It just opened right?” you ask.

“It did, just under a month ago and I have. I own it.”

At your genuine surprise, a knowing smirk graces his handsome face and his eyes glitter with a fierceness as he leans closer and pins you with his intense eyes.

“When you asked what I do for a living I probably should have said I’m an extremely successful businessman.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed with that statement,” you sass.

His eyes twinkle with mirth and he runs his fingertip along the rim of his glass, the heat of his stare scorching every inch of your skin.

“One thing you should know about me doll, is that I’m a very determined man. When I want something, I get it.”

He changes the subject before you can ask what it is he wants and instead he distracts you by firing questions your way, wanting to know everything from your job to your favorite wine.

Thankfully, as you’re just getting on the subject of food, the waiter returns with your meals.

You finish off your drink and dive right into your delicious smelling plate of food, shoving a huge mouthful between your lips and closing your eyes and moaning at the taste.

When you swallow your eyes pop open in preparation for the next tasty bite but instead of falling to your plate they get stuck on Bucky’s.

He’s staring at you with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth, motionless, his features tight with tension while his ocean eyes become pools of heat.

Your breath is caught in your throat before you whisper, “what”?

He drags his teeth over his bottom lip before wetting it with his tongue.

“Do you always eat like you’re having an orgasm, or is the show just for me?”

Your fork goes limp between your fingers and you feel a tingle skirt across your skin.

“Excuse me?” you breathe.

“That first sip of coffee at the shop and now with your dinner?”

“I…I just like coffee and good food.”

He does nothing to hide his amused grin and the sight of it makes you swoon.

“Me too,” he agrees before taking another bite.

“Are we getting dessert?” he asks after the waiter takes away your dinner plates.

“I am,” you state, looking over the menu.

At the return of the waiter, you give him your choice.

“I’ll have the crème brulee please.”

“Very good,” the waiter answers. “And for you?” he asks when he turns to Bucky.

“Nothing for me, thanks,” Bucky replies.

“I wouldn’t have ordered dessert if I knew you weren’t going to,” you tell him.

“That’s ok doll. I’m very much looking forward to you eating your dessert.”

His flirtatious tone is an obvious reference to his earlier comment about your orgasmic eating habits and at the return of his cocky grin you know he can tell how he’s affecting you.

After dessert and Bucky’s insistence to pay for dinner, he tells you he needs another drink.

You stand from the booth to leave and he places his warm hand on your lower back, steering you toward the bar.

An hour later you’re still sitting at the bar, finishing off your second drink of whatever it is he ordered for you, and you give him a quiet, “thank you.”

“For what doll?” he asks, his knee brushing yours as he shifts on the bar stool.

“For coming to sit with me and make sure those assholes stayed away. It was nice of you.”

“So now I’m nice,” he teases, his lips twitching to suppress a smile.

“It’s been a long week and I just wanted to dress up and come out to have a nice dinner with my friend, but then she had to cancel because her boyfriend broke his foot and you know that’s a big deal, but just because- and you gesture to yourself-I got dressed up and came out alone doesn’t mean I’m advertising for anyone to take notice.”

You let out a sigh at the end of your rant and quickly lift your drink to your lips, looking at Bucky over the rim and inwardly cringing.

“No. You’re right. It definitely doesn’t.”

“But some men still assume I’m looking for a good time. Imagine I actually dressed up for me!”

“Most men are assholes and stupid,” Bucky adds, finishing his drink in one long gulp.

You watch the muscles in his neck shift with every swallow and when he drops his chin the light catches the thick stubble lining it and accentuates the gray patches of hair.

You swallow on nothing and can’t help but wonder what his face would feel like between your legs.

“But I’m not,” he states as he puts his glass down with a clank and leans into you as if he can read your lascivious thoughts.

“How drunk are you?” he asks, the scent of him making your senses come alive.

“Not drunk but not perfectly sober either,” you answer, meeting him halfway and leaving only a small amount of space between your bodies.

He nods.

“So, if I ask you to come home with me, I wouldn’t be taking advantage?”

Your breathing falters as you stare into those ocean blue eyes, willing yourself to remember the earlier part of the day and your curt interactions.

It isn’t working. He’s too charming, smells too good and is entirely too gorgeous.

“But you’re rude,” you say, trying to convince yourself to say no and stay in control but instead it comes out breathless.

“But you changed your mind,” he says. “Now I’m nice, aren’t I?”

“Are you arguing with me?” you ask, finding the will power to flirt back.

His eyes sparkle with mischief and you reach up and run your fingers over his cheek, loving the way the hair feels against your skin.

“I’d rather have my head buried between your legs,” he simpers.

You nibble your bottom lip, doing everything in you can to stifle your lewd moan. His eyes instantly drop to stare at your mouth.

“I’ve been thinking about what it would feel like…”

“I know,” he murmurs, dragging his eyes upward with a growl.

Before you can react he slaps a wad of cash on the bar and jumps off the stool, taking your hand in his.

He marches out of the restaurant giving a tall blonde man by the bar a tight nod. They exchange a look that clearly holds some understanding you aren’t privy too before Bucky holds open the door and ushers you out.

You can’t help but stare as he pulls out his phone and starts to type. His fingers move quickly and his jaw is clenched tight.

Feeling your intense gaze, he looks at you and it almost makes you gasp, his eyes dark with a promise you can’t wait for him to keep.

“I have a good feeling I’m making the right choice.”  

Your words cause him to don you with his signature arrogant grin and just as a very expensive car pulls up in front of you, he drags you closer, lining his hard body up with yours, and leans down to whisper in your ear, “don’t worry doll face, I’m about to ruin you.”

@book-dragon-13 @dreamlessinparis​ @hiddles-rose​ @lookiamtrying​ @loki-laufeyson-1054​ @goldylions​ @randomfandompenguin​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @seitmai​

[mamamittens]

Hii me again!, could I order again!, for my oc/ insert Chloris; could I get a strawberry chunks milkshake (as for the creature was thinking a vampire Shanks and a human Chloris 🤭) chocolate syrup with whipped cream and a cherry on top (was thinking first meeting sort of thing?) could I get some Alice in Wonderland, dom/sub (for me), motor oil (for me), hot damn, jager bomb and a White Russian please and perhaps a sprinkle of Brain Hemorrhage (for me again), got to spoil Shanks so a Pineapple Upside Down Cake (for Shanks). Chloris uses she/her pronouns, she’s got long wavy pink hair that goes a bit past her knees, with flowers in her hair, an almost flower like crown of baby breaths that don’t go all the way round? (Can send an image in dms to explain better if it helps 💦), light purple eyes and beauty marks under them (like Mitsuri’s)

And here we are! Finally! Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long there!

Shanks X OC (Chloris)

Warnings: Vampire sex, blood drinking, oral sex (male receiving), outdoor sex, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, size kink, and praise kink.

Word Count: 2,221

Shanks was a man(sort of) of many vices, even before he’d been turned into a ‘creature of the night’.

Although he’d never call himself that out loud. That was more Mihawks thing, really.

He liked his booze and loved companionship of all kinds. For a drink or for a roll in the sheets, as long as it promised to be a good time, Shanks was all for it. Although a few things were different now, this basic desire to enjoy himself certainly wasn’t. His booze was now tainted with blood for an extra kick and his lovers never left unsatisfied from a boozy dick—though they may struggle to stand in the morning if he was feeling particularly amorous. What can he say? Something about having a pretty patch of skin under his teeth got him going.

He tried not to linger in one area too long. The idea of being caged unsettled him and there was only so much charm he could lay on to stop the townsfolk from stabbing him with a stake. It did lead him to find many breathtaking places in his years of wondering though.

Mountain peaks and muddy riverbanks. The people that could be found there. Usually crabby old men who only appreciated his booze, but… sometimes he got lucky.

Lucky enough to find a beautiful woman picking flowers in the moonlight. Some delicate bloom he couldn’t recall glowing like fireflies in her grasp, illuminating her pretty profile. Delicate and small with flowing pink hair that pooled at her feet as she crouched in the wildflowers. A flower crown of small white buds woven into her hair.

Shanks came to a stop just a few feet shy of her, grinning boldly. Eyes shining with hunger.

“…Hello, beautiful. Aren’t you a pretty sight? What are you doing out here alone?” Shanks asked in a comforting rumble. He wasn’t here for scares.

She startled a bit, looking up at him. Violet eyes catching the moonlight with identical moles under each eye.

“O-Oh! I’m—well, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I’m picking flowers. Moonbells. They only bloom under a full moon and they’re just the most precious light.” She cast her gaze across her draped skirts before looking up at him innocently. “And what are you doing out here alone?” She asked back.

Shanks chuckled.

“Maybe I’m looking for something sweet to eat.” Shanks mused smugly as she blushed. “Know where I might find that, pretty?”

She smiled, casting her eyes to the side demurely. Shanks stayed where he was despite already seeing how amicable she was to his presence.

“Sweet? Oh, I wouldn’t know. It is late though. Perhaps we should leave?” She asked, glancing back at him.

Shanks shook his head, grasping his belt buckle with one hand casually.

“Oh, but it would be such a waste of a pretty view. I can think of how it could be even prettier, though.”

“Oh?” She asked, covering up her smile with a delicate hand. Shanks squeezed his belt, lifting it up jostle his cock.

“You’d look ravishing under the moonlight, lovely.”

“I’m already here~?” She tipped her head to the side teasingly.

“Naked.” Shanks emphasized, taking a bold step forward. “Underneath me.”

She gasped, smile still evident and emboldening him.

“My, you’re a bold man. We’ve only just met!” She laughed.

“You’re right.” Shanks said in a faux-apology. “Your knees would be a better start.” Shanks declared.

“I thought you were hungry?” She asked coyly, shifting her legs beneath her. “And now you would have me walk all the way over there to get on my knees?”

Shanks laughed, stalking forward.

“That is a lot to ask of a beautiful lady. But I think you’re up to the challenge.” Shanks cackled, stopping just shy of her. She looked up at him eagerly, shifting up onto her knees and grasping his pants. “You going to be my good girl, beautiful?” Shanks asked softly, reaching down to tease a soft curl behind her ear.

She grasped his belt and slowly pulled the leather apart.

“Chloris. If you’re going to challenge me, the least you can do is call me by my name.” She smiled, tugging down his pants as his cock bounced free. She gasped, a little shocked at the size. And from his view, he couldn’t blame her.

His cock looked massive next to those pretty lips and wide eyes. Pre leaking down the tip. But before he could reassure her that he was fine skipping this treat, Chloris leaned up and slipped the head of his cock onto her tongue. Wet heat engulfing his cock as he groaned.

“S-Shanks, beautiful. If you’re going to take my cock, that’s the only word you need to know—and I-I expect you to scream it—shit!” Shanks groaned, bravado faltering as she sucked him in deeper. Her tongue slipping underneath his thick cock as he threw back his head. Hands grasping her head and petting down her hair as he fought to not cum. Flowers tangling around his twitching fingers.

But her mouth was made of sin and his balls ached to not spill down her throat with every movement. Her soft moans vibrating down his cock as his hips jerked forward. Snarling, Shanks yanked her onto his cock further, her wet lips drooling down his length. Despite his harsh treatment, she gripped his thighs harder and moaned loudly. Swallowing faster as she teased her tongue around him.

It certainly wasn’t his intention to fuck her throat, but clearly she wanted to choke on his cock.

“SHIT! F-Fuck, couldn’t take it slow, huh pretty girl? Wanted to let you work the tip but you wanted it balls deep, isn’t that right, Chloris? Fuck what a mouth you’ve got!” Shanks praised. “I-I’ll make it up in a mo-moment! I think my pretty girl needed this more than I did, isn’t that right? W-Well I won’t leave you wanting—f-fuuuuck~!”

Shanks slammed her face onto his cock and held her in place, pouring cum down her throat as she struggled to swallow it all down.

Slowly, he let her pull away, brushing away her hair as she did so. She was panting, face red and eyes bright as she looked up at him. Lips and chin slick with drool and cum. Shanks swiped up the wet mess with a grin, licking his fingers.

“What a beautiful woman.” Shanks praised, crowding her against the flowers. An easy task as she was still breathless. “How does my pretty girl want it? Anything you could ask—you’ve earned it, pretty girl.” Shanks asked, kissing her lips with slow licks, cradling her face between his hands.

“Now—please, I-I can’t wait!” Chloris whined and Shanks chuckled. Kissing along her cheek until he reached her ear.

“I’ll allow it.” Shanks grinned, ripping her dress clean in half. Breasts bouncing free against his chest as he pulled her against him before sitting up. Hands on her ass cheeks spreading her thighs as he slammed her onto his lap, cock driving out a scream. “What my pretty girl wants, my pretty girl gets~” Shanks crowed, bouncing her on his cock despite the clear struggle to take him.

It was mean, borderline cruel, but for such a good girl it was the least he could do.

Her cunt soaked his lap with every hard bounce, squeezing his cock tight as she moaned. Shanks laughed, holding her in place against his chest so she wouldn’t fall back into the grass. With such a beautiful display before him, Shanks felt his mouth water. Indulgently nipping the bouncing swell of her breasts pinned against his body. Her cries growing more desperate as she fought to hold him tighter. Hands finding purchase in his shirt as she wailed, creaming profusely on his cock.

Shanks struck, sinking his fangs into her bared neck.

“—ooOH~! AH-H-hahn~ S-Sh-ahnks~!” She moaned as her blood spilled into his mouth. Sweet and delicate like her trembling cunt struggling to hold onto his cock. It was a heady taste, the kind he could get used to. Every hilt making her heart beat harder with arousal.

Shanks felt Chloris’ trembling hands grasp his head and pull him close. He grinned, roughly tipping her back further as his thighs slapped against her ass. He drank in long, slow draws as she began to shake again. Legs wrapping around his hips in a useless attempt to keep him inside while he fucked her into the dirt harder to make up for the change in position.

His balls aching as he chased his release while drinking the aftermath of her own. Arousal thick in her blood as he fucked her to another orgasm relentlessly. Her cunt quivering around him sopping wet as she squeezed his cock hard. Shanks moaned, lapping at her bloody mark as his thighs trembled and he followed her, pouring heat into her aching pussy.

Heady and reinvigorated, Shanks lifted one leg onto his shoulder and pressed in deep, Chloris’ wail cutting through the night air. She jerked and keened but found no sympathy from him despite leaking their shared cum.

“M-My pretty girl wanted it now, isn’t that right?” Shanks mocked lightly, covering up his desire to find more interesting sources to drink from on her body. Her thighs would feel wonderful on his lips, for example. Desperately, Shanks panted against her skin, kissing and nipping whatever he could reach. “You want more, baby? My perfect girl feels so good everywhere. Taking my cock so well, it would be a crime to take it away now~” Shanks cooed, relishing the loud, wet smacks of his balls hitting her wet cunt.

“Y-Yes! More! M-Mo—ooorr~ Aaahn-ah~!” Chloris whined, tugging his hair fruitlessly.

“Everything I give you, huh? Gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Show me how good you are for me?” Shanks whispered into her ear, allowing her to moan directly into his own. Slurred, delirious acknowledgement that she wanted anything he saw fit to give her. “Going to ride this pussy till dawn and spoil you rotten for it.” Shanks swore, moaning as he placed his hands under her knees and pinned them to her chest. Raising her ass for Shanks to go even harder than before.

The smell of sex and blood permeating the delicate floral bouquet she’d been picking.

Chloris threw her head back into the grass with a whine, throat bared and smeared with blood.

“Look at me, Chloris.” Shanks panted, watching as she struggled to right her gaze with every hard fuck against the grass. “W-Who’s fucking you so good? Who’s cock are you screaming for?” Shanks hissed as she creamed on his cock again.

“Y-You~! S-Shanks! Shanks~! Sh—SHANKS!” Chloris yelped, crying out as she squirted hard against his thighs. Accidentally biting her tongue with a mild yelp. Shanks kissed her bared throat before lapping at her tongue, instantly drawn to her blood. Sucking it into his mouth with a groan as he drank the excess.

Shanks finally hilted in deep and came hard, panting against Chloris’ whining lips. Her thighs shaking against his grip as he collapsed onto her with a lazy hand swiping up her cunt to tease her clit for one more orgasm. Pinching as he sought to feel her cum on him one more time.

“R-Right here, Chloris. Take one more and we’re done, pretty girl.” Shanks chuckled as she arched underneath him, soaking his hand and cock. He meant his cum though, so he laughed and kissed her as she squirmed. Fucking her harder to stop overstimulating her. “Take it—take it, pretty girl. Scream if it makes you feel better, just take it—nngh!”

Shanks finally stilled, spilling into her welcoming cunt again with a deep, satisfied groan. Kissing her cheeks as he rolled onto his side, sliding his hand over her ass to keep his cock in place as he throbbed. She panted harshly, one leg trapped over his shoulder as the other weakly stretched over his hip as she hooked her foot around his thigh. Rolling her hip against him with a soft moan.

“S-Shanks~” Chloris smiled, stroking his bared skin.

Shanks kissed her gently.

“Do you live nearby, pretty girl? I’m in need of a place to stay—I promise I can earn my keep~” Shanks cooed, rolling his hip against hers with a sly grin. Chloris laughed, blushing hard as she looked away from his intense gaze.

“…perhaps… if you work a little harder?” She asked demurely.

Shanks laughed, thrilled at the challenge.

“Oh, I can ‘work’ a lot harder than that!” Shanks crowed, allowing his cock to slide onto her wet thighs so he could pick her up.

“I’m sure you can!” Chloris laughed, glancing to the east where he could faintly see a light through the trees.

Leaving their ripped clothing behind, Shanks pressed her back against the nearest tree.

“You sound like you don’t believe me?” Shanks mused, swiping a finger up her soaked thigh through the thick trail of cum, taking care to rub it into her cunt. Shanks waiting for a moment, teasing her clit until she began to squirm. Then he lifted her leg up high enough she had to rely on him for balance. Shanks slammed into the hilt, laughing at her sharp keen. “I better get started.”  

[georgiapeach30513]

Closer to Heaven and Closer to You, Part 10

Summary:  Frank confronts Ransom about you.

Pairings:  Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:   Explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, sex with a bit of an audience, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, sex in a pool, breeding kink, Frank Adler, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  7K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Ran,” you giggle, pushing Ransom away from you, but he pulls you back to his chest, nipping at your neck.  His hands drifting down your side, before cupping your ass.  “Ransom, your family is going to be here in just a minute.”

“I don’t even care,” he pants, but pulls back to look at you, “Buns, you look beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that because we’re going to pretend that we’re not in each other’s beds almost every night,” cupping your face, he brings you to him for the sweetest of kisses.  Peppering his lips all over your face.

“Mmm, they’re vultures,” he was so joyful as he brings your hips into him.  His hand runs down your side, and your skin begins to tingle with every inch he moves down your skin.  Ransom knew too well what he was doing to you, and knew even better how the two of you had decided to take things so slow.

Your eyes flit around his face before you slot your lips against his.  Hands going up underneath his sweater, and you scratch lightly on his back.  The two of you lost in the kisses of each other.  You couldn’t think of anything sweeter than just how pure Ransom could be.  The way you saw his confidence grow each passing day.  He deserved more than his parents and extended family had given him, and that’s precisely what you were going to do.

Leaning back onto the wall, Ransom lifts up one of your legs, placing it at his hip, while you whimper on his lips.  You didn’t know how long you could hold out anymore, or why either of you had continued to stop yourselves.  It wasn’t even a want as much of a need.  You needed him.  Needed to feel him pressing into your wet heat.  Needed to feel his cock throbbing in your core.  You needed all of him.

“Well, well, well,” Richard’s snake-y voice booms through the sitting room, and like children, you and Ransom pull apart from each other quickly.  This is not how you wanted any of his family to find out.

“Told you he was screwing the help.”

“Jacob, we don’t talk like that.”

“She’s not even the help, she’s Grandpa’s nurse.”

“I see what this is.  Weaseling your way into our family money using my son!”

Ransom pushes your body behind him, standing up proud and tall, he wouldn’t let them insult you, “That’s enough.  She’s not…we’re dating.  This is my girlfriend.”

“Kind of convenient, don’t cha think?  Good looking man, lots of money, a wealthy family.”

“I’m not after Ransom’s money.  I…Ransom, I…” your voice gets lost, and you hide your face in his back.  His family came with him, and he was worth it.  He was worth this.

“I told you.  I told you she was here just to swindle our money.”

“I don’t want your goddamn money.  I came from money, too!” Your voice screeches, as you stomp away from them.  Even though you hear Ransome protest, and call out your name, you need to get away from those disgusting people, and go into the only other room that makes you feel comfortable; Ransom’s office.

“What is your problem?” Ransom glares at each and every single one of his family members.  “You don’t get to come here treating people like that.  And definitely not her.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t fall for some slut that is here only to…”

“She’s not some slut!”

“Then why are you fucking her?”

“I’m not!  We are dating, and we are taking things slow.  I didn’t tell any of you because look how you act.  This is my life, and it’s mine and her relationship.  None of you are included.  Not even the alt right asshole who likes spying on us.  Yeah.  We’ve been together awhile.  I didn’t need you lot to poison our relationship.  I love her!  And there’s nothing you can say or do to make me change my mind.  Now, if you would excuse me, I’m going to find my girlfriend.”

Ransom stomps through the estate and straight to his office.  If you weren’t with Harlan, it’s where you always were.  Like this unspoken way to find you.  Slinging open the door, he sees you look up at him through your lashes with a strained smile.  “Buns, I’m…” turning around, you push all his papers and things into the floor.  Smiling when they make a loud raucous, and you hope his family enjoys the show.  “Bunny, no.”

“Ransom, I love spending time with you, and I want this.”

“Why?  Tell me why because we don’t owe them anything.”

Turning back to look at him, you go underneath your dress to take off your panties, letting them fall to the floor before you step out of them.  Lifting up your dress you lean back on his desk and spread your legs slowly.  Making sure he sees your weeping cunt, and just how ready you were, “I don’t care what they or anyone else says, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, I love you.  I know what being in love is now because I’m so in love with you that it hurts not having this part of you.”

Ransom had never heard anything so beautiful in his life.  No one, to his knowledge, had ever said that to him.  No one had ever made him feel the way that he did.  “I’m in love with you.”

“I didn’t say that to force you into telling me.  I…”

“Bunny, I love you,” walking closer to you, he starts to undo his pants; there is too many clothes separating the two of you.  Your hands go under his sweater, and you pull it off.  Spinning you around, Ransom slowly undoes the zipper on your dress, letting it cascade to the floor, and he kicks it to the side before he places you back on the desk.  Removing your bra with one hand, “Wow.”

Holding his cock firmly in his hand, he smears his tip, leaking of precum, through your folds, and you yip at the feeling.  Staring deeply into each other’s eyes when he slowly pushes through your tight channel.  Inching through your folds, and both of your forget to breathe.  

Legs spreading wider to accommodate his thick frame.  And just when you think you couldn’t take anymore, he pushes more into your warmth.  Not stopping until he bottoms out, and you gasp, clinging to his arms, needing his body to fully encapsulate yours.

Holding himself still while you get adjusted to his girth.  Smiling through your sweet sounds, and you start to lean back, feeling more comfortable when Ransom’s thumb starts to make tight circles on your bundle of nerves.  “You feel good, Ran,” you choke out.  “You feel amazing inside of me.”

“There’s not a day that will go by that I don’t want to be settled right here,” he taps along your stomach.  Showing you exactly where he was seated at.  

“I love you,” you repeat again.  You wanted him to feel all the love that you had for him.  “I love you, Ransom.”

“I love you,” is the last thing that Ransom is able to get out before he sets at a desperate pace.  The two of you had been aching for one another, and you finally had it.  Frustrated and pissed off at his family, but he was making sure you felt exactly how much he loved you.  How much that he had been craving you, but more than for sex.  The sex was the bonus.  

Your hand slams on the desk as you move to get more comfortable.  Ransom’s thrusts making the desk legs screech and move on the floor, “Yes!” You scream a bit too loud, but Ransom smiles anyway.  Your voice is horse already, and you just know you have to be making the most lewd moans.  Your pussy was definitely squelching throughout this office space.  Filling the small room with Ransom’s new favorite sound.

Ransom grunts as he rails into you, and you can not imagine a time that you had felt this good.  Your hands explore his body, grasping at his ass, and becoming addicted to his noises.  He was fully yours, and you were fully his.

“Well,” Linda clicks, hearing something else fall off the desk.  “I saw this coming the day that she walked through that door.”

“Right there, baby!” Your voice bounds down the hallway directly to his family.  “Yes!  Yes!  Ransom, right there!”

“At least they’re having fun,” Meg shrugs, and her entire family, sans Harlan, turns to glare at her.  “What?  You’ve been accusing the two of them of fucking for months.  Now you know that they are,” she snorts when you clearly was coming.  Otherworldly mewls muffled only by the sound of something slapping onto wood.  “At least he loves her,” Meg adds in when Ransom shouts that he loves you.

“And she’s using him.”

“You say that only because you’re not around them,” Harlan walks into the study.  “Sounds like it’s about on time.  Fran?  Will you have their dinner taken into Ransom’s office when the uh…noise dies down.  At least he has a couch and blankets in there.  Just leave it outside of the…door,” nobody could concentrate with how the two of you were carrying on.  

“That sounded like the bookshelf,” Walt groans, when random items bang onto the floor.

“So it does.  Let’s eat.  You wanted them to have sexual relations so bad Linda, looks like you finally got your wish.  And I would completely drop the subject all together.  Ransom is making preparations.  That woman will be your daughter in law, or you will have a very heartbroken son.  Take your pick.  Dinner.  I’m famished.”

“You’re going to allow this to happen in your house?” Richard points down the hallway, hearing the loud bang of Ransom throwing you up against the wall.  “This is too explicit for dinner.”

“Yeah, well, we can just ignore it, or you can leave.  You insulted her, you insulted your son, and their relationship.  I believe that this is a…”

“Oh fuck me!”

“Ahh,” Harlan’s mouth turns up into a wicked grin at Ransom’s outburst, “I was going to go with this is a fuck you, but I think your son answered for you.  Shall we eat, or is everyone’s stomach turned?”

“Jacob shouldn’t be hearing this,” Donna awkwardly laughs, touching her eyebrow, trying to fake embarrassment when in reality she was jealous of the pleasure you were clearly feeling..  “Wow…she’s vocal.”

“I heard them taking turns going down on each other last week.  He’s just as…vocal.  It’s nothing I haven’t heard.”

Meg cackles when your voice reaches a high pitch, and Ransom is moaning just as loud, “I think that was the grand finale.  Can we eat now?  I’m starving.”

“You can eat with that…noise?” Joanie whines, but Meg just shrugs.

“Judging by their labored breaths, and the noise stopping, they're finished.  I’m eating, Grandpa?  Oh, I don’t dislike her by the way.  Notice how Ransom isn’t such a prick?  I’m going to go with her being the reason,” she walks behind Harlan into the dining room, while the rest of the family wait for a moment.  Contemplating on what they were going to do before following suit.

Ransom carries you over to the couch, and drapes a blanket over both of your bodies, while the two of you gaze at one another.  The most beautiful post sex glow on both of your skin.  This wasn’t how you had imagined the first time with Ransom to be, but it was perfect.  Your relationship was now out in the open, and there was nothing that anyone could do about it.  

Your hand brushes his stray hairs out of your face, and you smile constantly at him.  “Ransom, I love you.  I wasn’t saying that in the heat of the moment.  I love you.  I now can honestly say that this is different.  This is something I have never felt before.”

Grabbing your hand off his face, he brings it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles, “I love you, too.  I guess…they all know.”

“Let them know.  I didn’t want to hide this anymore anyways.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair,” Ransom calls out, walking into the living after your parents.  “Please, don’t leave.  I stayed behind because…well, I um — I needed to talk to you.  There’s a reason, well, several reasons why your daughter and myself decided to visit.”

“You better not be telling me she’s pregnant,” pregnancy tests were brought, but none had been taken, so Ransom shakes his head no quickly.  “Shit, Faye, I think Ransom needs us to sit down, huh, son?”

“Yes, please,” he gulps, your father grabs your mother’s hand, leading everyone into the living room.  Upon sitting, Ransom just rubs his thighs up and down.  Eyes misting up because there were no words he could think that would ever compare to how he truly felt about you.  “I love your daughter.”

“So we’ve heard,” your mom smiles at Ransom, it was finally happening for you, and the right way.  “She loves you, too.  Doesn’t she, Ronnie?”

“Yeah, yeah.  My daughter has loved before.  Or so she thought.  What makes you different?”

“I don’t want to keep her from her family.  Harlan is my family, and he’s agreed as well.  I want her.  And if I want her I can’t stay in Boston.  I bought us some land on Sowers Road, and had a house built for us, and our future children, and my grandpa, his mom recently passed, and he will be moving here as well, and…”

“It’s a bit premature isn’t it?  Buying a house, and ready to move your grandfather out here.”

“Yes, but I want to marry her, and that’s why I need to ask you both for your blessing.  Bunny is traditional.  She loves the ceremony of things, and she would want me to ask you before I asked her.  I’ve got the ring, here,” Ransom opens the ring box, and slides it across the coffee table, and your mother grips at your dad’s hand.  “I love her more than anything else in this world.  I want a family with her, and I want her to have a perfect little farm, and — I just want her, and whatever comes with her.  Whatever that means.”

“You want kids?”

“Yes.  We both really want kids.”

“You got enough land for a ranch?”

“Yes, sir.  Her friend Bucky has been putting it together.  I don’t know anything about that life, but he does.  And he’s set everything up.  And he’s going to run everything, and I’m going to try and learn that life.”

“But you’re bringing my baby home to me?” Ransom nods at your father.  Your mother was ready to give her approval to Ransom the moment the three of them had walked into the living room.  “I’ll be honest with you, I really hated you.  She was ready to head back to Boston after two days here.  This is only the second time she’s come home, and according to her sister, you are the reason why because she couldn’t leave you.  You’ve got nothing in Boston?”

“Just her and Harlan.  And they’d both be living here.  Mr. Sinclair, I’ve never loved anyone.  Never respected anyone.  Never saw myself planning for the future until your daughter.  So if you could please give me your blessing.”

“You have it,” Faye pipes up, patting on her husband’s leg.  “He’s a hard ass.  We only had girls, and he raised them to take care of themselves.  But at the end of the day my baby wants to be a wife and mother, and take care of her ranch, and the ones she loves.  And you’re that person.”

Ransom leans around you, giving you the sweetest and most tender kisses on your shoulder.  Up in the highest part of the estate had become yours and his sanctuary.  Leaning forward with nothing but a blanket around your waist, you add a bit more blue paint to the canvas.  The sunlight beams into the small room that had become your favorite place to make love, and paint.  

“It’s beautiful, but not quite as much as you,” giggling, you turn your neck, and look at the most handsome man that you had ever met.  “Where is this at?”

“There’s this little area in Montana.  It’s off of Sowers Road, and they have this great tiny little mountain.  Up by itself.”

“Mmm, tell me about this place,” he says, spinning you around.  Even though you were both completely naked, glistening in sweat, and had nothing but a blanket, there was no urge to have sex again, you just were together.  “What did you do there?”

“Me and my sisters would sneak out of the house, and go there.  Lay on this mountain, and look at the land below.  Each of us dreaming up what we would do if the land was ours.  But mostly, we’d lay on our backs and look at the stars.  Waiting for a shooting star to make wish.”

“What was your wish?”

Looking down at his lips, you serenely smile, and lean forward to give him a chaste kiss, “You.”

Ransom rolls his eyes, chuckling, and pushing you back a bit, “Uh-uh, you didn’t even know I existed.  So what did you wish for?”

“I didn’t lie, Ran.  I wished that I would meet someone and fall so deeply in love, and that I would know that I couldn’t live my life without them.  I mean living there would be a dream.  I always felt like being there you were closer to the heavens.  And then I met you, and I realized it didn’t matter where heaven is, because I feel the closer I am to you the closer I am to heaven.  You know, we’ve never talked about our future.  Where do you see us?”

“Hopefully you with a baby in your belly, and a child in my arms,” shaking your head no, you lean forward to lay on his shoulder.  “You don’t want kids?”

“You don’t want them.”

“That’s utter horse shit.  Why would I not want a Bunny or Ransom junior?  Up until I met you, I thought I was destined to be a bachelor.  Boy, did that change.  So do you want kids?”

“Yeah.  I want a house full of kids.  Got their little boots on, not afraid to pet a horse or feed a cow.”

“Ahh, a farm?”

“A ranch, and a mini farm.  Have cute little corgis herding the kids more than the animals.”

“Corgis, huh?” He asks, pulling you in closer when you nod your head.  You wrap your arms around his, sighing when he pulls you into his lap.  “So we’re going to have these corgis that are chasing our kids around?”

“Yes,” Ransom could feel you smiling on his skin.  Feeling you smile was almost as invigorating as seeing it.  “Gucci.”

“Hmm?”

“I want our first corgi named Gucci.”

Ransom finally takes the blindfold off your face, and you look up at the house in shock.  It was beautiful, but it was in your spot.  “This…this is Sowers Road, isn’t?”

“It is.  What do you think of the house?”

“It’s perfect,” tears spring at your eyes because it really was perfect.  Even a pond in front of the house.  “There’s a lookout in the house,” it was like someone had gone on your Pinterest and built the house according to your dreams.  “There’s…Ran, there’s a little dock.  That’s almost exactly where me and my sister’s would lay looking at the stars.”

“Come on, let’s go look at it,” you shake your head no, wrapping your arms around yourself.  You hate to be this way, but someone was getting your dream spot.  “Buns, come on, lets go for a swim.”

“No.”

“Why?” He chuckles, and you pout at him.  It shouldn’t hurt so much to see your dreams obliterated, but it hurts so bad.  Someone was going to be living your dream, “Buns, why?”

“They probably have cameras everywhere.  We can’t just — Ransom, where are you going?”

“Swimming.  Care to join me,” he goes ahead, pulling his shirt off, turning around to look at you slowly getting out of the truck.  His hand goes to his belt as he yanks it out.  Teasing at his button, “Buns, come on!  You get in this pond with me, I’ll buy you Gucci.”

“This is someone’s house,” Ransom points up at the house, and you shrug.

“Babe, there’s no furniture.  Nobody is going to see us.  And if they do, they’re getting a view of my white ass,” standing still, he drops his underwear and pants in one swoop, giving you a wink when you see his dick.  “Bunny, hop on into the pond with me,” taking a deep breath, Ransom jumps into the pond, and you gather his clothes, walking over to it.

“What are you doing?  You’re not getting naked.”

“I’m not having sex with you in this pond.”

“You know it’s not actually a pond?  This is a natural looking pool,” he gives you a shit eating grin, and snaps his fingers, “Get in the pool with me.”

“I’m not having sex with you in this pool.  This is somebody’s house.”

“They’re not here.  They won’t care.”

“No, I’m not doing it.  Someone’s kids could be swimming in this, and your…your cum would be floating in it,” he throws his head back laughing, wading closer to you, “But I will get naked, and swim with you if the water isn’t too cold.”

“It’s heated, sweetheart.  Get in.  I’m not hard, I’m not going to have sex with you, I just want to make out with my girlfriend, and look out at the place that she used to make wishes from,” as quick as possible you start removing your clothes.  It was invigorating to be showing this place to Ransom.  Letting him see just how beautiful it was at night.  “Quit folding our clothes, and get your ass in this pool with me, and let me hold you as the sun sets.”

“You hush, Drysdale!” You take his word for it, and jump into the pool, and thankfully he wasn’t lying.  It feels amazing.  Just what you need.  Coming up, you are quickly jerked to his side.  “This is nice.  Now, you have to get me Gucci.”

“You name what kind of corgi you want and what color, and I will get you Gucci.  Now, C’mere.  The sun will be setting soon.”

“If you get hard, Ran, you’re on your own.”

“Not even if we go back in the truck?”

“That is my dad’s truck!  No!” While you giggle, Ransom blows raspberries on your neck.  His hands wrap around you, and he rubs along your belly.  “I think I should take a test when we get back to my parents’.”

“How about you decide that later.”

“You’re up to something,” peeking back at him, he just shrugs.  Swimming the two of you over to the edge of the pool, “You’re up to something big.  I don’t know if I trust you.”

“Whatever.  Trust me or don’t.  I don’t care,” that sneaky little smile proves just how right you are.  Ransom struggled to keep secrets from you, and for whatever reason, he was currently keeping something.  And a big something.

“Just look at the view,” you sigh, staring out at the setting sun.

Ransom lifts you up and out of the water, tilting his head down at your exposed breasts, “Oh, I’m looking at the view.”

“Ransom!  Are you always horny?”

“Yeah.  That’s what happens when I see you naked.  Now, why don’t we forget what you said earlier…”

“Nu-uh.”

“But you need your medicine.”

Your arm bends, and you cup his cheek.  You were just as guilty as Ransom when it came to being naked around each other.  Your pupils start to dilate as you look at him, “And what’s my medicine?”

“Mmm, something that is going to make you feel so good.  And besides, I want to see this belly so swollen with me,” he gives you a kiss, pulling away, but you hold him closer.  A chaste kiss turning into sin.  Twisting your body around so you can fully look at him.  Can feel his cock hard and hitting at your belly.  “Wait, is sex in the water a smart idea?”

“What?” You whimper, already grabbing the base of his cock.  Lifting a leg up around his body.  “Don’t you stop this now.  You started it.”

“Is it safe?”

“If the people who own this house have cameras it won’t be.  Ran, please, fuck me.  Fuck your seed in me, and let’s make a baby.”

“There’s my girl,” he whispers before crashing into your warmth.  You chirp, pulling him as close to you as possible.  He uses your body to fuck himself just as the sun starts to move behind the mountains creating the most perfect glow over you and Ransom.  This was another dream.  To have sex with the love of your life and see under the most beautiful sky you can think of.  

Stars and the moon start drifting into view, and your fingers grip onto his back.  His tip hits at just the right spot to send you spiraling.  Making the most beautiful sounds that Ransom needs to taste.  Slotting his lips against yours he swallows every strangled mewl.  Growling into your mouth as the two of you race for release.

When you were a child you had never dreamed of this moment.  Didn’t know that sex and making love were two very different things.  Didn’t know that the connection between two people could bind each other’s soul together.  

Ransom’s arms squeeze around your body.  The two of you let out a moan that echoes through the mountains right as Ransom’s voice breaks, eyes squishing close, and his jaw goes slack.  Your walls clenching down around him, and milking every bit of his cum.  The thick seed painting deep in your womb, while you deeply breathe, smiling at the man you know will be your husband.  You didn’t care what order things happened, Ransom would be your husband, the father of your child, and the two of you would have a home somewhere.

“What happened to not having sex in the pool?”

“I said that when I thought this was a pond,” with his hands wrapped tight around your bum, he starts walking the two of you out of the pool, “Where are you going?”

“I am going to see if the door is unlocked.”

“This house?  Ran, you know they have this locked,” he is goofy.  Ransom was going to get the two of you arrested if he didn’t stop playing with fire.

“Would you humor me?  This is the place that you have dreamed at and dreamed of your whole life.  Let’s just check it out,” sitting you on the ground, he throws your clothes at you.  Laughing as the two of you struggle to put clothes on wet skin.  

Sneaking up to the front door, Ransom gives you the biggest smile when it opens.  It was immaculate.  Even with very little to no future, it was amazing.  A larger house than you dreamed, but it worked.  “I want to see the kitchen,” you run towards the direction you just knew had to be the kitchen, and spin around.  Opening up the empty cabinets and forgetting Ransom altogether.  

You feel like a kid.  Like someone had given you a magical paintbrush, and your imagination had cooked this up.  Leaning around the corner you check something out, before you see Ransom move quickly out of the corner of your eye, and you spin to  look at him, gasping.  Your boyfriend is down on the floor on one knee, holding up a box of the most beautiful ring.

“You know you are the best thing that has ever happened in my life, and I don’t want to wait anymore.  I asked your parents earlier today, they gave me their blessing, and…will you marry me?”

“You’re asking me in somebody else’s house though.”

“No, I’m not,” a hand goes to your mouth, and there was no stopping the tears, “This is ours.  Your sisters helped a lot by showing me how to use your Pinterest.  Bucky helped, too.  He’s got a house at the edge of the property.  Closer to the barn.  Harlan is waiting on your answer, because he has a buyer for the estate, and he said that you and him are not allowed to be separated.  Bunny, this is our home for our kids, and…I couldn’t keep you and stay in Boston, and I don’t care about that place, I care about you, and if you would please put me out of my misery, and let me hold you because I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“But they’re happy tears,” you wipe away the steady flow of tears that you just couldn’t stop.

“Answer my question, you crazy thing.”

“Yes!  Yes!  Ransom Drysdale, I will marry you tomorrow if that’s what you really want.  I just, oh,” your words are cut short as he crashes his lips against yours.  Struggling to grab your left hand, until you push him off, “Make it official, Ran,” Ransom slides the ring over your finger, and you give it a quick look before looking back at your fiancé.  Today was a perfect day.  “Wait, you included Bucky?”

“Do you think I know I can run a farm and ranch alone?  I didn’t even know what a ferrier is or that the cows need to have hoof trims, or the pigs, or even what a chicken run was.  Bucky is our ranch hand.  He’s going to be the boss, and the lead man.”

“Good, because I want you to work on your book more.”

“Ehh, I need to learn some things.”

Frank spotted that stupid pretty boy that you had brought here first.  Saw his ridiculously perfect hair as the two of you, and your oldest and youngest sister walk through the downtown area.  You were acting like a lovesick puppy dog.  Clinging to him, smiling up at him, and every chance you could, you would kiss him.  Like anyone wanted to see that.  It was sickening how you were completely consumed by him.  

How even your sisters would laugh at something that he said.  Frank hated Ransom.  What kind of name was Ransom?  And why did you bring him here?  Frank keeps his eyes on the man because he just knew Ransom was going to look at some other woman as she walks by, but currently nothing.  The only other women he looks at are your sisters.  But after a few seconds he was back to looking at you.

The two of you were stupid.  You had come to where Frank was, and he couldn’t get away from you two.  Wherever you were, Ransom was.  Until you and your sister’s walk into a store, and Ransom is left sitting on a bench outside of it, but his eyes stay on the store, and Frank sees why.  Lingerie.

This is Frank’s only chance to actually speak to the man without you being present.  Of course you would lie to make Ransom feel better.  You would do anything to keep yourself out of trouble.  Strutting over to the bench, Frank sits quickly, and Ransom doesn’t even look his way.  He is too happy to let Frank ruin it.  

“Women like Bunny aren’t easy to keep entertained,” Ransom slowly turns to look at Frank with a look of pure disdain.  “Trust me as someone who knows.  We had this great relationship, me and her.  I was even the one that gave her that nickname.  And then, just when I thought we were moving forward, she runs off and leaves me.  We had us a home, too.  Left me with all those bills.  Left the dog, and Clyde still hasn’t been the same.  I was left heartbroken, but I knew she was always going to come back.  But, I got nothing for her.”

“Ahh, so this is why you’re talking to me?  Because you’re completely over her, right?” Ransom asks with a cheeky grin that just irritates Frank even further.  If only Frank knew that you and your sisters were in there trying to find you the perfect bridal lingerie, and Ransom was not allowed to look.  Frank had no idea what he was talking about.

“It’s more of a warning.  Bunny takes.  Bleeds you dry, and just when you think she’s done, she comes back to scrape the remains off you.”

“Frank, you can say whatever you want, but I’m not running away from her.  And she’s not running away from me.  I can promise you that.  I’ve run away from everything in my life, but it won’t be her.  She’s…”

“Hmm, how long have the two of you even been together?”  Frank was digging, and Ransom could clearly see that.  Ransom did not trust this man.  He was obsessed with the fact that you left him.  Had he left you, Ransom knew Frank wouldn’t have even cared.

“Two years this Thanksgiving,” Ransom informs him proudly.  It was two glorious years, and it didn’t feel even close to a year.  The most unfortunate thing about being with you is that time moves too quickly.

“That’s all?  You’re still in the honeymoon phase.  Wait…two years ago, huh?  So right before she came home for a week?  Just how serious were the two of you?  Maybe you should ask her what she was doing on her week home.  Because while you were at home, she wasn’t alone,” Frank shrugs his shoulders, and leans forward, starting to get up, “Look, man, I’m sorry.  I didn’t know she was dating anyone.  Failed to mention you.  But, just thought I would let you know who you are dating.  Have a good day, Ransom.”

“You son of a bitch, Frank Adler!” Picking up a bean bag off the corn hole board, you hurl it at Frank, hitting him directly in the face.  Ignoring Steve’s chuckles, and chants to egg you on.

“Buns, you’re right on time, darling.  We were just about to start another round,” Frank gives the bag in his hand a little toss, missing the hold in front of him.

“What are you fucking playing at by talking to Ransom?” Picking up another beanbag, you throw it, but Frank catches it this time.

“Just telling your loser boyfriend what you were up to when you came home two years ago,” just like Frank to bend the truth.  Wanted to leave the most salacious parts in there, and miss the entire story all together.

“And what exactly was I up to?  Because I think I remember that night a bit differently than you do.  I recall you, Frank, cornering me in my parents barn, and fuckign begging me to take you back.  You started to kiss me, and…”

“First off,” Frank drops his bags, starting to walk closer to you, spotting a little glimmer from your hand, but he keeps his eyes only on your face, he was not ready to face that, “I didn’t beg.  And you kissed me back.”

“Wait, what was it that you said?  ‘Buns, I’m so sorry darling.  I was an idiot.  I didn’t mean to, but you know I can’t quit the rodeo completely.  I will do whatever it is you want, just give me one more chance.’  Your drunk ass started to kiss me, and I pushed you away.”

“Only because…” he stops himself, but if he wants to make an ass of himself, you are going to show everyone here just how much of an ass he really is.

“Oh, yeah, I left that part out.  You had your hand moving up under my dress.  And I pushed you away, and you fell on your ass.  I was just a piece of ass to you.  We tried, and we failed miserably, and now since I was the one that left you after you made that decision for us, you’re trying to ruin something good in my life.  Ransom is the best thing that ever happened to me.  So good in fact, he wasn’t even mad about what you told him.  He told me that we weren’t even serious or exclusive, and he wasn’t going to hold whatever happened between us over my head.  And I told him exactly what happened.  You better be glad that I came here instead of him.  He was ready to…”

“What?  Kick my ass?  Hehe, Bunny like that pretty boy could ever even touch me.  Why the hell is he even here, Bunny?  He doesn’t fit in here.”

“Get used to it.  We’re moving here, you jackass.  We…he built us a home, and I’m marrying that man,” you raise up your ring finger, showing Frank just how committed you are to Ransom.  “And…I hate you.  I hate you so much.  I have had the best time here, and you tried to ruin it.  It didn’t work.  He’s going to marry me and he…he’s going to be the best father to our baby, and you can kiss my ass.  You wanted to ruin something, and he is so pure and good.  And he will be the best husband to me, and you don’t even care.  You don’t care about my happiness or our baby’s you…you only care about you, and you left me!”

“You left me!” Frank seethes, clenching his fists on either side of his body.  Frank always remembered things differently.  Remembered the parts that made him look like the victim.

“I never even had you!  The rodeo had all of you, I got the scraps, and I told you.  I told you if you left I was done, and I was leaving.  You left.”

“You left without saying anything.  I thought we were happy.  You didn’t even give me signs that you were unhappy.”

“I gave you all the signs, you just didn’t listen!  You were trying to force a pregnancy on me,” it was the worst part about your relationship.  A time when you literally felt like a broodmare.  That you were nothing but the flesh between your legs, and the ability to provide him with a son.

“And you were lying to me about that.  About the morning after pills, and the birth control, you lied!”

“I was exhausted!  You never listened to what I wanted.  I wanted you!  And you wanted that damn rodeo.  You only wanted me pregnant so I would follow you around like a puppy.  And we weren’t ready for a baby.  I did both of us a favor.”

“What are you doing with him?  You can’t walk five steps without looking at him and kissing him.”

“You fucking psycho!  Why are you watching us?  He had a house built.  He’s moving here with me.  And he didn’t ask me to do anything.  We’re…we’re on the same page about this baby, and we both want this.”

Finally your words sink in with Frank.  This baby.  Your hands rub over your belly protectively, and a piece of Frank dies.  He always thought you would eventually come back.  And you did, but you didn’t come back for him.  “Wait…you’re pregnant right now?”

“You still don’t fucking listen, Frank.  Yes, I’m pregnant.  I just found out this morning with my fiance.  He stood behind me, holding my belly as we waited for the results, and we celebrated together, because unlike us, me and Ransom are a team.  We are partners.  And we both wanted this baby.”

“That’s not the order,” you had always told him; house, marriage, baby.  It now looked like you got a house, an engagement, baby.

“I made that order for you because I didn’t trust you.  I was never going to have you, and I have always had Ransom.  Please, leave us alone.  Let me be happy.”

“And what about me?”

“I tried, Frank.  I tried to make you happy, and then I moved on.  Ransom is…I’ve never loved anyone like I do him.  Be happy for me, or stay out of my fucking life.  Because whether you want to be happy for me or not, I’m going dress shopping this weekend.  We’re rushing the wedding, so…so our little peanut won’t be visible.  Please, Frank, let me go, and move on.  For both of us.  Because I’m never coming back.  Ransom is my future.  Goodbye, Frank.”

Spinning on your heels, you turn to walk away from the bar.  Followed by Bucky who leaves the game of corn hole, and even Steve glares at Frank, rubbing the back of his neck, “Man, that was shitty.”

“Yeah, coming to our bar and cussing me like that.”

“No, I was talking about you.  Bucky and I both told you that she was unhappy.  Bucky even told you what you needed to do.  You guys broke up, it happens.  But you telling Ransom something that didn’t exactly happen the way you said it did — what if he left Bunny, and she’s pregnant alone?  You don’t think about anyone but yourself.”

“And what about you Mr. I need three girls to fuck me at once.”

“They know what they’re getting into.  I’m not trying to ruin someone’s relationship based on lies.  Frank, man, admit you were wrong with this.  Bunny is happy.  Let her be happy.  Let her enjoy her life in that stupid big house with her stupid pretty boy fiancé.  Bunny has always deserved the world, and even you said that.  That man is giving her the world.  Why do you think he had that house built on Sowers Road?” Frank shrugs his shoulders, staring blankly at the ground.

“Did you ever listen to her?  I wasn’t sleeping with her, and I know what significance that location is to her.  Frank, just apologize and move on.  There’s other women.  Bunny’s gone.  She’s pregnant with another man, she’s getting married, and they got a home.  It’s done, man.  You’re going to make it worse for you, not her, if you keep doing this.  I’m out.  I’m going home,” he drops his bags, and struts to his truck.  Thinking to himself it might be time for him to leave the rodeo.  But then again, it might just be time for him to continue sowing those wild oats.

One thing Steve knew for sure, Frank is a bitter man, and that bitterness was changing him.  He never thought Frank would be so low as to try and make Ransom break up with you.  Thankfully Ransom is a better man than Frank.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @patzammit​ @lavender-annd-lilac​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @slowdownbeforeyouregretit​ @elrw24​

[mayskalih]

Hi <3 I know ur not taking commissions and requests rn but I was wondering if questions are okay?? (If not okay just throw this in the trash XD)

I’m going to ask them before I either forget or procrastinate :p

1. Top 3 songs that inspire you to draw?

2. Two shows or movies that you can rewatch forever and ever?

3. Are there any Ao3 fanfics that you absolute ADORE?

Thx!

ps ignore the anon haters they’re just salty because they can’t draw like you lol

Questions are definitely ok! I like to blabber my nonsense here <3

Hard one, I'm usually going for moddy wibes even when drawing the sunshiniest pieces. The Crawl by Placebo (I love them so so much), Nothing's gonna hurt you by Cigarettes After Sex (anything by them screams HORNY), and anything by Mariya Chaikovskaya (she's a Ukrainian musician with incredible vocals, charming piano and lyrics, highly recommend).

Ghibli's Howl's Moving Castle. I will never be tired of it and enchanted by it's beauty and music. I watch it every time I get a cold or just feel lonely. The second one is The Good Place. It's such a good show and reminds me how we watched it together with my flatmates when I was a grad student. (I can also add ATLA here, it never bores me out)

Only a Crush by Gingersoup (KakaSaku), Yokai Sunset by Fireflylitsky (KisaSaku), Runaways by LindtLuirae (KisaKakaSaku), Burning Daylight and The Void Between Fireflies by Renaerys (SasoSaku), No Man's Land by TipsyRaconteur (DeiSaku), Cherry by fallen__alien (and Unholy too, I pray for it continuing, KakaSaku), Open Casket, Open Bar by Renaerys (SasoSaku). Oh and Forbidden Technique: Sexy Sensei no Jutsu by al_holland (KakaSaku). Beware, they all contain smut.

Thank you for asking!

[rp-meme-central]

Firefly - Shindig - sentence starters

1. “I like watching the game. As with other situations, the key seems to be giving _____ a heavy stick and standing back.”

2. “Tell me, do all ______ there pay for their dates, or just young, rich ones with stamina?” 

3. “I don’t suppose you’d find it up to standards of your outings. More conversation, and somewhat less petty theft and getting hit with pool cues.”

4. “Too much foofaraw. If I’m going to wear a dress, I want something with some slink.” 

5. “I’m trying to offer you something, you know. A life. If you want it.” 

6. “These girls have the most beautiful dresses. And so do I! How about that?” 

7. “I like our party better. The dress code’s easier and I know all the steps.” 

8. “Don’t fall asleep now. Sleepiness is weakness of character, ask anyone.” 

9. “Here lies my beloved ______. My autumn flower. Somewhat less attractive now that she’s/he’s/they’re all corpisfied and gross.” 

10. “Don’t you just love this party? Everything’s so fancy, and there’s some kind of hot cheese over there.” 

11. “Forgive my rudeness. I cannot abide useless people.” 

12. “You have no call trying to make me ashamed of my job. What I do is legal.” 

13. “My work’s illegal, but at least it’s honest.” 

14. “I could belong here. Call me pretentious, but there is some appeal in that.” 

15. “Up until the punching, it was a real nice party.” 

16. “______ insulted you. I hit him/her/them. Seemed like the thing to do. Why’d this get so complicated?” 

17. “I don’t know what you got in your head, but I didn’t do this to prove some kind of point to you. I actually thought I was defending your honor.” 

18. “What we need is a diversion. I say _____ gets naked.” 

19. “You don’t need strength as much as speed. We’re fragile creatures. It takes less than a pound of pressure to cut skin.” 

20. “You have a strange sense of nobility, _____. You’ll lay a man out for implying I’m a whore, but you keep calling me one to my face.” 

21. “I may not show respect for your job, but _____ didn’t respect you. That’s the difference.” 

22. “You think following the rules will buy you a nice life, even if the rules make you a slave.” 

23. “Best be careful, _____. I hear these things are sharp.” 

24. “Mercy is the mark of a great _____. Guess I’m just a good ______. Well, I’m all right.” 

25. “See how I’m not punching _____? I think I’ve grown.” 

26. “You’ll have to rely on your winning personality to get ______. God help you.” 

27. “Thank you for the wine. It’s... very fresh.” 

28. “I got stabbed, you know. Right here.” 

29. “Don’t care much for fancy parties. Too rough.”

30. “I am grateful, you know, for the ill-conceived and high-handed attempt to defend my honor, although I didn’t want you to.”