#i will protect this girl as if she were real

[ellemj]

Does It Hurt? BONUS CHAPTER: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Sex Pollen Fic

Summary: When you're finally out of HYDRA's clutches, the recovery process drives you and Bucky farther and farther apart. You can't decide if what you felt between you was real or chemically-induced. What will it take to sway you?

Read the first part here.

Warnings: angst, unprotected sex (non-descriptive), profanity, no use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 12.4k

A/N: The fic is up and only five hours late 🫶🏼

There was a time when Bucky Barnes felt like everything just might turn out okay for him. It was brief, fleeting, but it was a time he remembers well. It was the night he had you on the back of his bike, with his helmet protecting your head and your arms wrapped tightly around him. He may have just pistol-whipped the son of a bitch who was so damn insistent on feeling you up, but he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt over it. He only felt an unfamiliar warmth everywhere that your body made contact with his as he pushed past the speed limit on the highway. Something about it all felt so…good. The two of you were halfway back to the tower when he came to the conclusion that he actually felt normal with you on the back of his bike. He didn’t feel like he was over a hundred years old and stuck in the wrong century. He didn’t feel like he had committed an atrocious number of human rights violations, and all for the wrong side of history. He didn’t even feel like he was an unforgivable, unfixable product of experimentation. He felt like his old self, before the serum was ever introduced into his system, before he lost his arm. He felt like Bucky Barnes with a pretty girl pressed against him, and truth be told, he hated it. He hated the way that this odd feeling that he might be okay, that life could maybe turn out fine for him, seemed to be inexplicably linked to you.

The soft cushion of Dr. Raynor’s office couch molds to Bucky’s shape as he sinks down into the center of it, parting his knees and turning his head to the left to take in the rolling gray clouds outside of the wall of windows. He doesn’t want to be here today. He knows it’ll start raining by the time his session ends, yet he still chose to take his motorcycle out for the half-hour away from the tower. He’ll get stormed right off of the highway, and he doesn’t really give a shit about it.

When Dr. Raynor walks in just a moment later, she can sense Bucky’s foul mood immediately. It makes the air in her office feel stale and stagnant. If she was a more spiritual person, she would probably aggressively sage the space after the session. Dr. Raynor moves to her seat across from the couch and takes in the sight of her client. He sits on the couch, looking almost defeated, with a dark outfit to match his dark aura. Dark boots, dark jeans, and a dark shirt beneath a dark leather jacket.

“The funeral isn’t until Saturday.” Dr. Raynor begins the session, flipping open the notebook on her knee and balancing a pen atop it. Bucky turns his head, looking across the room at her with a raised brow and pursed lips. “Aren’t you dressed for it a little too soon?” He scoffs at the dig, turning his head once more to watch as the first drops of rain begin to fall from the gray sky.

“This is how I always dress.” Bucky argues, but there’s little effort in his tone. He doesn’t really care what she thinks about his wardrobe.

“You’re wearing the leather jacket today. Are you riding your motorcycle in this weather?” Dr. Raynor presses on, still choosing to focus on his clothes. Bucky rolls his eyes before dropping his gaze down to where his hands rest on his thighs. He starts tugging his gloves off one at a time before dropping them on the couch beside him.

“A little rain won’t ruin a ride.” He responds dryly. Dr. Raynor cocks her head to the side at his dismissal.

“I’m starting to think you have a death wish. Do you really think your team wants to attend two funerals in the same month?” Bucky only shrugs at her question, so up the pen goes and she begins scrawling away on the blank page. Bucky scowls, dropping his shoulders and scrunching up his face.

“Really, doc? I thought you stopped doing the passive aggressive thing months ago.”

“And I thought you stopped acting like a pre-pubescent boy who doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings.” Dr. Raynor retorts, letting the pen still in her hand and hover over the page. She wasn’t really writing anything of essence, but the trick always seems to work on Bucky.

“I took the bike because it’s loud.” Bucky explains. He reaches up and runs his flesh hand through his hair, messing it up a bit as a sigh leaves his chest. “It makes it harder to hear my own thoughts.”

“What thoughts are you trying to drown out?” She sets the pen down on the notebook and Bucky’s eyes follow it closely. She watches as he wars within himself, as he tries to decide what things to share and what things to bury. Bucky shakes his head like he’s refusing to answer, but then his eyes land on the pen once more and he decides to speak.

“All of them.” Bucky knows that Dr. Raynor hates when he’s vague, even more than she hates when he doesn’t want to talk at all.

“Give me a few examples of the thoughts you’ve been having today.” As soon as she requests it of him, Bucky’s mind is falling into the dark abyss he’s been trying so hard to crawl out of for the past week. He can see everything when he closes his eyes, hear everything that happened replaying all over again.

“Where is she? Where the hell is she?” Bucky yelled out, pushing against Sam’s chest with both hands hard enough to send him crashing into the stark white wall behind.

“Bucky, you have to calm down.” Sam responded, holding his hands up, refusing to physically engage with the raging super soldier. “I’m not telling you anything when you’re in this state, man. You need to sit down and get your shit together.”

“Let me see her.” Sam had never heard Bucky sound so desperate, so fucking devastated.

“Bucky…”

Dr. Raynor can see straight through him. She knows he’s having a flashback just from the pained look in his eyes and the way his hands keep curling into fists and then uncurling just as fast, repeating the movement over and over. She gives him a few seconds, noting the tension he holds in his jaw.

“James?” Dr. Raynor calls his name softly, leaning forward in her chair a little and waving her hand. He blinks a couple of times before focusing in on her face and letting his muscles relax into the couch.

“I’ve been thinking about the first day in the hospital.” Bucky relents. He starts tracing the golden crevices of his vibranium arm with his flesh index finger, avoiding Dr. Raynor’s gaze.

“What about it?”

“They wouldn’t let me see her.” He shrugs, as if the events of that day are common knowledge. Bucky hasn’t talked to anyone about what happened after HYDRA’s bunker was blown to shit. He awoke in a hospital room almost twelve hours after being pulled from the rubble semi-conscious and heavily sedated. He ripped his IV out, broke the metal IV pole off of the hospital bed, and threatened to take down anyone and everyone who stood in the way of him getting to you. Luckily, Sam never relayed that story to Dr. Raynor.

“That’s what’s on your mind today?” Dr. Raynor is suspicious, as always. With a patient like Bucky, there’s always more to the story that he’s building in his head. He leaves out details like the details are what will crucify him in the end. She watches as he shifts in his seat. Bucky leans forward slowly, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him as he drops his head down.

“She has some memory loss, it’s hard to know how much when she doesn’t want to talk to anyone.” The doctor said quietly, folding his hands together in front of his white coat as he addressed the group.

“What do you know for sure?” Fury asked, needing something concrete. He came here for a solid update and he was damn sure going to get one. You’d been in this hospital for three days since the HYDRA bunker was destroyed and every update that he got over the phone seemed to have less and less information, so Fury drove himself down here this time.

“She remembers the morning of the day she was taken, she mentioned going to the gym that morning and having a shower after. She said her hair was tangled.” Bucky felt his heart thumping hard against his ribcage, threatening to break free at the doctor’s words. You remembered that morning, the morning you touched his scars. “She’s been able to retain her memory of everything that’s happened since she arrived here, but she doesn’t seem to have any recollection of what happened while she was held captive.”

“That might be a good thing.” Sharon pointed out, earning her a various array of looks from the group. “What? We all know what HYDRA is capable of, it might be for the best that she doesn’t remember it all right now.”

“She’s right. While the amnesia could be the result of a minor brain injury or whatever drugs they were pumping into her system down there, it could also be the result of a sort of psychological protection mechanism.” The doctor explained carefully.

“You’re saying she could be blocking out whatever happened to her because she doesn’t want to remember it?” Sam asked, with worry etched into his features. The doctor nodded slowly, before stealing a look at the only silent one in the group, the super soldier who stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed.

“I hope that’s not the case, but yes, she may not want to remember.”

Dr. Raynor is snapping her fingers this time, dragging Bucky back out of his head and into the present reality. Thunder rumbles in the distance and the wind shifts so the rain starts coming down sideways, pattering against the wall of windows to Bucky’s left.

“You keep zoning out.”

“They wouldn’t let me see her because they were scared that her seeing me might trigger some traumatic memories.” Bucky says suddenly, turning his head to glance out at the brewing storm. “They wanted me to stay away.”

“And that made you feel—”

“Like shit.” Bucky finishes Dr. Raynor’s sentence quickly.

“Understandably so. Have you seen her since the explosion?” She questions, turning her head to gaze out at the gloomy weather as well. Bucky shakes his head, watching as a bolt of lightning flashes across the sky but doesn’t quite reach the ground.

“No.”

“But isn’t she back in the tower now?” Bucky nods, catching Dr. Raynor’s eye for a brief moment. “So, you’re avoiding her?”

“I’m giving her space.”

“Did she ask for that?”

“It seems like the right thing to do.” Bucky shrugs, picking at the seam of his dark jeans.

“The right thing for who? For her? Or for you?” Dr. Raynor narrows her eyes, slowly beginning to understand what’s going on here as she continues on with her line of questioning.

“I don’t know.” Bucky admits gruffly. He knows Dr. Raynor is figuring his shit out and he can’t stand it. He starts pushing up from the couch, coming to stand in front of it as he scoops up his gloves and begins tugging them on.

“We have another forty-five minutes, James.”

“I have to cut this one short, don’t want to get stuck in a flood on the bike.” He says smoothly, his eyes flitting toward the door as he speaks.

“You won’t be able to avoid her on Saturday.”

“I doubt she’ll be going to a funeral for the man who had a hand in drugging her.”

“He was an undercover agent and he played a pretty big role in keeping her safe in that bunker.”

“I know.” Bucky mutters, acknowledging those facts but refusing to let them paint the man in a better light. He may have been a double-agent for SHIELD, but he still let things go too far with HYDRA. He could’ve contacted Fury to send in the rescue team so much sooner than he did, he could’ve spared you the entire final night in that damn concrete bunker, but he chose not to. He chose to give each of you the injections and leave you together to do exactly what HYDRA wanted. He’s as guilty as everyone else that died in that bunker.

            You’ve always loved bad weather. You love the way the sun disappears behind rows of thick, dark clouds, the way you can taste the rain in the air long before it ever begins to fall, and especially the way you can feel the vibration of thunder deep in your bones when a storm is really close. Even now, as a storm is rolling in, your inner turmoil can’t compete with the peace that’s washing over you in waves. You relish in it for a moment, that recently unobtainable peace.

            “You know, being out here under all of these big trees in weather like this isn’t really a good look. Someone might think you wanted to be struck by lightning.” Sam’s voice is light and playful as he approaches from behind. You wonder just how long he’s been standing around in the woods watching you, because if he had been walking, you would’ve heard the sounds of rustling leaves and snapping twigs. He raps his fist against the trunk of the tree you’ve chosen to lean against for the time being. The bark is digging into the thin fabric of your shirt and probably adding to the bruises you already have underneath, but you remain still.

            “I was going to head back in soon.” You assure him, crossing your arms over your chest and letting your eyes roam over the expansive landing strip out ahead of you. Short of breaking onto the roof of the tower and pissing off a very unwelcoming security team, standing out here at the edge of the woods overlooking the landing strip is the best way to observe an incoming storm. Sam moves to stand beside you, crossing his arms over his chest to mirror your position as he gazes out at the gray clouds rolling in. It’s quiet for a moment as he soaks in the view, coming to understand why you like hiding out here from time to time.

            “You don’t have to go to the funeral on Saturday, no one expects you to.” Sam says softly, so softly that you wonder if he actually meant to say it out loud. A tired sigh pushes past your lips and you let your eyes flutter closed, resting your head back against the trunk of the tree.

            “I know.”

            “You could talk to me, you know? I know you haven’t really talked to anyone, and you probably don’t want to, but if you decide that you do, I can be a vault. You could just dump all of your shit on me and I can lock it away.” It’s silent again after he makes his offer, until a loud crack of thunder sounds not too far off in the distance. You turn your head to face him, noting the concern in his eyes at the imminent storm. You know his offer is genuine. He wouldn’t repeat your words to a single living soul, you’re sure of that. And he’s right, you haven’t talked to anyone. What the hell is there to talk about when you barely remember anything? The bits and pieces that you do remember don’t even make much sense. “We should head back to the tower, I don’t trust that thunder.”

            You walk side by side in a comfortable silence for the first thirty seconds, until a light drizzle of rain begins to fall on your shoulders. Sam picks up the pace as soon as he feels it, but you noticeably slow down. He’s just a few steps ahead when you start to remember something, the feeling of dust and debris raining down on you from above. You stop entirely now, squeezing your eyes shut as the rain begins to fall a little harder and your shirt starts to soak through. You hear Sam call your name but it sounds so distant as you fall into a lost memory you want so badly to retrieve.

            You didn’t feel the blast, you barely even felt the impact of your body slamming against the concrete wall. All you felt was the loss of Bucky behind you. He was there one minute, and the next he wasn’t. Even as the walls and ceiling came crashing down all around you, on top of you, he was the only thought on your mind. You were trapped with one hand outstretched and the other cradling his dog tags in an open palm. Dragging your thumb over the inscription on the tags was the only thing you could do. Over and over again you traced his name, telling yourself that if you were still alive in the rubble, then so was he. So was he.

            You’re suddenly aware of the rain pouring down, soaking into your clothes and shoes more and more with each second that you stand still in the woods. Your right hand is pressed against the front of your shirt, feeling the outline of the dog tags hidden underneath. You don’t know when you started wearing them, but ever since you woke up in the hospital, you didn’t feel right taking them off. Sam stands in front of you with widened eyes and his hands on both of your forearms.             “You remembered something.” He says incredulously, staring into your eyes with a mix of hope and concern. His eyes dart down to where your hand is pressed against your chest. He can just barely see the glint of a silver chain peeking out around the neck of your shirt, but he focuses his gaze back on your face, not wanting you to know that he knows exactly what hangs around your neck. He was the one that found you in the ruins of that decimated concrete bunker, the first one who saw the light of the early morning sun glinting off of the metal tags.

            “I remembered something.” You affirm, nodding your head slowly. Your hair is dripping at this point, and a chill spreads throughout your body as the rain begins coming down in sheets. As you and Sam make your way back to the tower, all you can think about is the feeling that came with the memory. Hope. You wanted Bucky to survive, you needed him to survive. Even as you laid there, unsure if you were going to live or die yourself, he was the one you were thinking about.

            Bucky isn’t a very big fan of elevators. He stands in front of one now, watching as the floor number ticks down slowly above the doors. Why the hell did Stark design this tower to be so damn tall? Who really needs this many floors? Bucky’s contemplating taking the stairs when he hears a loud clap of thunder followed by one of the glass doors across the foyer sliding open. He sees you before you see him. Your jeans are thoroughly soaked through, looking a couple of shades darker than they probably were before. Your shirt is wet and clinging to your torso, while your hair looks like you just stepped out of a long shower. Bucky takes in the sight like a punch to the gut. It’s the first time he’s seen you since that night, since he saw you ripped away from him and tossed into a concrete wall.

            “I’m not going to make it all the way upstairs like this, I’m cold as shit.” Sam’s voice rings out, just as he’s stepping into the glass door and coming to stand beside you. “I have clothes in the gym, I’m going to go change. Do you want to borrow a shirt?” Bucky’s jaw clenches at the thought of you wearing someone else’s shirt. He wants to look up and see how far the elevator is, to see how much longer he has to stand here feeling like his heart is about to give out, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. You shake your head and mutter something that Bucky can’t quite make out, but as Sam turns away and heads in the direction of the gym alone, he assumes you told him no.

            Bucky.  You see him as soon as you turn to head for the elevator, and your hand instinctively moves up to brush over the dog tags beneath your shirt. His eyes track the movement even from across the foyer.

            When he realizes you’re still wearing them, he can’t breathe. Bucky can’t fucking breathe because you’re standing there, alive and well, looking at him as you run a thumb over his name, his name that sits right over your fucking heart. Shit. He tears his eyes away from you reluctantly, stealing a glance at the floor counter above the elevator. It’s almost here. He needs to get the fuck out of here now.

            It probably wasn’t your smartest move to rush across the foyer the second the elevator doors opened and Bucky started disappearing from your line of sight. You make it just as the doors are mere inches from closing fully, and you thrust your right arm forward, interrupting the sensors and causing the doors to slide open again. Bucky stands straight ahead with his back against the far wall and his hands gripping the railing on either side of his hips. He doesn’t say a word as you step into the elevator, but he holds your gaze with a steely one of his own. You can tell he wishes you hadn’t hijacked his solo elevator ride, but something in you just wouldn’t let it go.

            It isn’t until the doors close and you’re turning your back to Bucky to press the button for the main living floor that you realize just how stupid your move was. You don’t have to look down to know that you’ve just ripped a few stitches from a deep cut right above your left hipbone. You can feel the warmth of the blood contrasting with the cold rainwater that’s already soaked into the fabric of your clothes. You’re quick to place your left palm over the wound, applying pressure while concealing the fresh blood from Bucky’s sight. You take in a few shaky breaths, wondering what the hell Bucky’s thinking right now. Does he remember everything that happened down there? Would he relay it all to you if you asked?

            Bucky’s biting down on his bottom lip so hard that he questions for a moment if it’s his own blood he smells. It only takes a second, and one swipe of his tongue across his lips, for him to be sure that it’s not. It’s yours, you’re bleeding. You stand a foot in front of him, with your right hand hanging down at your side but your left hand clutching your hip tightly.

            “You’re bleeding.” Bucky says matter-of-factly, like he doesn’t much care if you are or aren’t but he wants to make it known that he’s aware. The fact that he’s speaking at all surprises you, considering he seems to have been going out of his way to avoid you ever since you came home from the hospital a few days ago. You stay still, letting your eyes flit up to the floor counter as you continue applying pressure to your hip with one hand.

            “I’m fine.” You respond through gritted teeth, suddenly finding yourself a little peeved that Bucky wants to speak up now. Another glance up at the floor counter tells you that you’re nearly halfway to the main living floor. A low chuckle sounds from behind you, sending a shiver down your spine, as if you weren’t cold enough already. Bucky watches with veiled amusement as your shoulders tense up in front of him. Leave her alone. Fuck. How can he just leave you alone? Bucky’s pushing away from the wall within a second, taking one big step forward and closing most of the gap between you. He leaves maybe an inch between his chest and your back, but you sense him behind you and instinctively roll tilt your head to the side as your eyes flutter closed. As soon as you’ve made that little movement, you’re wondering why he has that effect on you. You don’t remember ever doing that before, but as far back as you can remember, he wasn’t ever really very close to you before either. Bucky wants to reach up and push your hair away from your neck, to expose the skin there just so he can lay eyes on it one more time, but he won’t.

            “Does it hurt?” The question is tumbling past his lips in a low whisper before he can stop it. That one question is all it takes for your mind to go careening into another forgotten memory. Bucky notices the hand on your bloody hip faltering, so he covers it with his own and applies pressure just like you were doing before. You both stay still like that for a few seconds, with your breaths coming in quicker and quicker as flashes of the past rush through your head. With your eyes closed, you can just barely see the image of your fingertips tracing over the angry scars of his shoulder in a dark room. You squeeze your eyes shut a little tighter and you see your fingertips moving gently down his spine, pressing softly into his warm skin. When you open your eyes again, it’s gone. You’re staring at the closed metal doors of the elevator, almost oblivious to Bucky’s hand over your own on your hip. The elevator slows to a stop and Bucky lets his hand fall away from yours the second the doors start sliding open. He’s gone before you even have a chance to blink. He’s gone and suddenly you’re remembering everything.

            With every up and down motion of the bench presses that Bucky’s doing, he’s slipping further and further into a dark place in his mind. You don’t remember. Just a few hours ago in the elevator, he was sure you were remembering something, but when you didn’t speak up, he knew it was just wishful thinking. Does what hurt? Those were the only three words he wanted to hear from you, and god, he might’ve pressed you against the elevator wall and kissed you right there if you’d said them. But you don’t remember.

            When Bucky switches over to abusing a punching bag, his eyes roam around the empty gym. He switched to an evening workout schedule the day you were discharged from the hospital, not wanting to risk running into you in the gym or the showers every morning like he used to. Still, even when he’s alone, he only sees you everywhere he looks. He sees flashes of everything you’ve forgotten. When he closes his eyes and lies in bed at night, he can almost feel you next to him. He only laid with you for one fucking night and yet, the feeling of you next to him is somehow engrained in his skin.

            “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to work through something with how hard you’re hitting that bag.” Fury’s voice is unexpected, but not surprising when it reaches Bucky’s ears from across the gym. Bucky stills for a moment, steadying the bag with his hands before glancing over his shoulder. He spots Fury instantly, leaning against the wall by the door, typing away on a phone held firmly in both hands.

            “Is watching me workout becoming a hobby of yours?” Bucky asks, turning around fully to face Fury. Fury raises a brow, briefly looking up from his phone screen to make eye contact.

            “Don’t tell me you have performance anxiety. I won’t believe it at all after seeing the video footage from the HYDRA bunker that came across my desk this morning.” Bucky’s frozen in place. Sweat begins to bead across his forehead as his mind races. Fury catches sight of his widened eyes and clenched fists and quickly shoves his phone into the pocket of his jacket, pushing away from the wall to approach Bucky. “Relax.”

            “She doesn’t remember any of it.” Bucky’s voice is tense and edged with frustration as he watches Fury move slowly across the gym.

            “How would you know? You’ve been avoiding her like she has the plague.” Fury points out, crossing his arms over his chest as he comes to a stop in front of Bucky.

            “I know. If she remembered, I would know.”

            “Don’t be so sure.”

            “You think she remembers?” Bucky asks, narrowing his eyes at Fury. They stand only a foot apart now, studying each other carefully.

            “I think you should stop sulking around like she’s forgotten who you are entirely.”

            “I haven’t been sulking.” Bucky scoffs, turning around to leave. He doesn’t have to stand here and listen to Fury’s cryptic advice.

            “You’re singlehandedly the reason it’s been storming almost non-stop since we brought you both home.”

            “That’s dramatic.” Bucky calls out as he rounds the corner, exiting the gym and entering the shower room. Fury mumbles something in response, but Bucky doesn’t strain his ears hard enough to pick it up. Bucky spends far too much time in a steamy shower, gnawing on the inside of his cheek and contemplating ripping the tiles from the shower wall as he thinks about the fact that Fury saw the video footage of everything that happened in the bunker. The fact that Fury saw you at your most vulnerable, you with your legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, only covered by a thin sheet, actually has Bucky wanting to pluck out the one good eye that the man has left. He doesn’t even want to think about what he saw if he watched the footage from the second time you fucked, when the sheet was long forgotten and neither of you gave a shit. Bucky’s possessiveness is flaring as he pulls his flesh hand back, takes a deep breath, and then thrusts is hard against the tiled shower wall. The crack that’s left matches the one he feels deep in his own chest.

            You’re pissed. You’re tired of everyone tiptoeing around you. You’re tired of Bucky doing everything he possibly can to stay the hell away from you. You’re also really fucking tired of your trainer taking it easy on you. You circle around the man on the mat, stealing a glance at the digital clock on the wall across the gym. You’ve been sparring for an hour now and the man hasn’t landed one hit on you. It has nothing to do with your skill, which is what has you so angry right now. He hasn’t landed a hit on you because he’s barely tried to, and the poor attempts he’s made wouldn’t have even tickled if they’d made contact.

            “Stop going easy on me.” You snap, shooting daggers at the man. He shakes his head.

            “I’m not.”

            “I feel like I’m fighting a five-year-old.” You retort, rolling your eyes at his denial. Does he even realize he’s pulling all of his punches and practically only defending himself? Normally, your trainer is always on the offensive, dishing out attacks for you to combat. You used to never leave a session with him without at least a few new bruises and a plethora of sore muscles.

            “Listen, we’ve been going at this for an hour. You have to be tired, you’ve barely even recovered from everything. Let’s call it a day.” There it is. He’s taking it easy on you because he fears you haven’t recovered. Anger bubbles up inside you as you tug your hair out of its ponytail and stalk away from the ring.

            “Yeah, let’s call it. I don’t think I need your services anymore.” You agree, nearing the door to the shower room.

            “You’re really going to take yourself off of my schedule because I care about you too much to compromise your recovery?” He asks incredulously, holding his arms out at his sides in a sort of what-the-fuck gesture. You shrug your shoulders as you round the corner, already tugging your shirt over your head.

            “Let me know when you actually want to try kicking my ass, until then, I’m off your schedule.” You respond flatly. One of the good things about Bucky avoiding you is that he’s stopped using the gym in the mornings, which means you can strip in the open and spend as much time as you fucking please in the shower, without worrying about anyone judging you for wasting water. As the hot water splashes across your skin, steaming up the air around you and soothing your aching muscles, you find yourself diving right back into the newfound memory you’ve been dissecting for the last two days. Your fingers trace the chain around your neck lightly, following it over your collarbone and down to the metal plates that hang between your breasts. You remember telling Bucky to give them to you. You remember the way he kissed you before placing them around your neck. God, you remember the way it felt when he pushed his tongue past your lips and licked into your mouth like you were a fucking dessert. You don’t really understand how you forgot a kiss like that in the first place, how you forgot a moment like that. And everything that came after? That’s why you’ve been so damn moody for the last two days. The memory of Bucky fucking you not once, but twice, came back in full force that day in the elevator. You couldn’t even respond to his little ‘does it hurt?’ How could you respond when you went from thinking about your fingertips tracing his spine to thinking about how good it felt to sit on his cock? And to think that that’s what happened before he started avoiding you. How. Fucking. Dare. He.

            You’ve barely even had time to deal with the trauma of being kidnapped and held hostage because you’ve been dealing with the fact that you had sex with Bucky Barnes and now you can barely even get him to look at you. In this moment, as you run your fingers through your hair and watch the suds wash down the drain at your feet, you think you might actually hate him.

            There are a lot of reasons that you decided against going to the funeral for the tall, thin man with brown eyes. The first reason being that he’s associated with some very unpleasant memories. Anytime his face pops up in your mind, you can almost feel the pain caused by that injection he gave you not once, but twice. He gave it to you without hesitation, and with little warning as to what you’d experience once it entered your bloodstream. For that, you resent him. Knowing that the double agent would likely have family and friends there, even SHIELD coworkers who adored him, really solidified your decision not to go. You’d stick out like a sore thumb being the only one who wasn’t torn up over his passing.

            So, you stand in the ring with your new sparring coach. He’s a bulky, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and unexpectedly kind eyes. He’s simultaneously the kind of man women would flock to in a busy bar on a Friday night and the kind of man women would be terrified of if they saw him in a parking garage any time after dark. Hopefully, he’s also the kind of man who won’t think twice about throwing you around the ring.

            You move in tandem for a while, with him taking one step forward and you taking one step back. When you throw a right hook, he ducks under it with ease. He’s so quick on his feet that you barely manage to land more than three hits on him in the first twenty minutes. But annoyance is blooming in your chest with each passing second, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s faster than you. It has everything to do with the fact that he hasn’t even tried to throw a punch.

            Bucky can hear the commotion in the gym as soon as he steps off the elevator and he pauses right outside the gym door, straining his ears in an attempt to figure out who’s taking up his new evening slot. Everyone went to the funeral as far as he knows, including you. He hears the sound of feet dancing around the sparring mat, two sets of heavy breathing, and then a single sound that he recognizes above any other. A frustrated moan reaches his ears, and in an instant, he knows who it belongs to. He’s shoving the gym door open and stepping in without thinking, his eyes aiming straight for the sparring ring.

            “You let me do that.” You complain, letting go of the man’s arms but continuing to hover over him as you straddle his lower half. The man cocks a brow at you, letting a playful smirk take over his sharp features.

            “I wanted to get a feel for your strength.” He responds coolly, patting your left thigh with the palm of his hand. You roll off of him and tighten your ponytail as he rises to his feet once more. Bucky’s watching the moment unfold as he heads for the punching bags in the opposite corner of the room. He doesn’t normally start a workout with a punching bag, but with how tight he’s clenching his fists right now, he might as well. You haven’t caught sight of him yet, as you stand with your back to the rest of the gym.

            “Let me get a feel for yours, stop holding back.” You bite back. When you turn around to face the man in the sparring ring once more, you catch sight of the lights glinting off of black and gold in the corner of the gym. Bucky. He stands quietly in front of a punching bag, wrapping his flesh hand in a nude-colored wrap as he prepares for his own workout. He meets your gaze just for a second, for one single fleeting second, before he throws a hard punch into the bag, setting it shaking on its hook.

            “I don’t like to dive in full force at the first session with a new client. We can build up to more intense sessions.” The trainer says, drawing your attention away from the brooding super soldier in the corner. You watch as the man runs his fingers through his dark hair and then squares up, expecting you to do the same. You stand still, biting down on your bottom lip as you contemplate his words.

            “So, what are we doing here then? You’re just going to keep letting me take you down and I’m supposed to feel like I had a good workout?” You can’t hide the frustration in your tone, it’s beyond evident. Even Bucky can detect it from across the gym as he throws punch after punch at the bag in front of him. He alternates between watching the bag shimmy on its hook and stealing glances in your direction. The man you’re with looks nothing like the trainer he’s used to seeing you with in the mornings. He heard that you fired the guy, but he didn’t really know that it was true until now.

            “Yeah, and then in our next session I’ll make things a little harder for you.” The trainer answers, circling you in the ring. You stand still, half hoping he’ll swipe your legs right out from under you if you refuse to engage. But of course, he doesn’t. He moves to stand in front of you and grabs both of your wrists, his eyes temporarily zeroing in on the fading bruises you have there, before he places them out in front of you in a defensive position and let’s go. “You’re in your head too much.” It takes you less than two seconds to have the man laid out flat on his back again, with the wind knocked out of his chest and his cheeks flushing pink.

            “Maybe we should give it a rest, and you can come back to kick my ass tomorrow.” You say as you lean over the man and offer him your hand. He grins up at you and pushes your hand away, rolling onto his side before moving to his feet with ease.

            “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t actually going to have me come back tomorrow?” The trainer asks lightheartedly, as he reaches for his water bottle near the edge of the mat. You shrug as you lift the hem of your shirt to dab a bit of sweat from your forehead. Bucky catches sight of the bruises decorating your ribcage and the bandage carefully placed over your left hip, just barely peeking out of the waistband of your leggings. His jaw ticks as he lands an overpowered punch against the bag and hears the sound of the chain snapping above. The bag flies across the room, crashing against the wall before crumpling to the floor. For a split second, Bucky’s right back in that bunker, watching your body fly across the room and come to a screeching halt against a concrete wall. You can tell by the way his muscles tense and his gaze never strays from the bag that he’s having a flashback of some sort. Your trainer is already packing up his bag and stepping out of the ring when Bucky snaps his head back in your direction.

            “If you promise you won’t take it easy on me, I might call.” You assure him, but your eyes stay fixed on Bucky, who looks like he’d happily send you careening into the wall right beside the punching bag if you keep staring at him. The trainer follows your line of sight, noting Bucky’s presence before turning back to you one last time.

            “I can’t promise that.”

            Just like that, the man is gone and you’re sorely disappointed to lose yet another trainer who thinks you’re too fragile to handle even one little hit. You’re tugging your hair out of its ponytail and running your hands through your messy hair as Bucky’s walking across the gym to retrieve the busted punching bag that he sent airborne just a moment ago. You can feel his eyes on your back as you bend over and start scooping up your water bottle and phone from the edge of the ring.

            “It wouldn’t kill you to take it easy, you’re still covered in bruises.” Bucky’s voice is almost unfamiliar to your ears after the way he’s been avoiding you lately. You pause, your hand hovering just over your phone as his words register in your mind. You straighten up and look over to see Bucky dragging that damn busted bag back to the far corner of the gym, not even sparing you a passing glance.

            “I didn’t ask for your advice, and I sure as hell don’t need it.”

            “You don’t know what you need. You’re out here begging a guy nearly twice your size to lay hands on you just to convince yourself that you’re fine.” Bucky spits back, dropping the bag at his feet and finally turning around to face you. His eyes are alight with fire, and the intensity of his stare burns against your face. You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest.

            “I am fine.” You huff, sounding every bit as confident as you’d hoped you would. Bucky hates that you think you can lie to his face and he’ll believe every word. That’s the second time you’ve tried telling him you’re fine, the second time you’ve lied to him. He steps over the punching bag at his feet and takes a few steps closer to the sparring ring.

            “Are you? Because the last time I saw you, you tore your stitches just trying to catch the elevator.” He says coldly, letting his eyes dart down toward your left hip. You roll your eyes, and step forward until you’re leaning over the edge of the sparring ring.

            “And just like I said then, I’m fine.” You smile at him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. It isn’t genuine at all. He can see something else written all over your face.

            “People who are fine don’t beg to be tossed around the sparring ring.” He points out, taking another step closer to the ring. You tilt your head to the side and bite down lightly on your bottom lip. Bucky’s eyes follow every move you make closely. Biting your lip like that almost feels like a personal attack to him.

            “I’m sick of everyone tiptoeing around me like I’ll shatter if I take so much as a deep breath. I can take a few punches, Bucky.” You slip between the ropes around the edge of the ring and carefully lower yourself to the gym floor.

            “I’m sure you can, but that doesn’t mean you need to.” His response is reasonable and it frustrates you further. You’re trying to egg him on and he can see it clearly. It’s why he gives you one last up and down look before shaking his head and turning on his heel. He’s tugging the wrap off of his flesh hand and nearing the door when you decide to come back with a response.

            “So you can encourage me to take your cock but not a few punches from a trainer?”

            He should keep walking. He should be halfway to the elevator right now, leaving you alone in the gym. He should be ignoring your obvious attempt to get him to engage with you, but his entire musculoskeletal system decided to disconnect from his nervous system the moment you said what you just said. You remember. You remember him encouraging you to take his cock. You remember him saying just keep taking my cock as he reached dangerous depths inside you and then praised you immediately after. Heat starts to pool low in your stomach as you realize what you’ve done, as you realize that he knows now. He knows that you remember. Bucky’s demeanor is entirely different when he turns to face you now, the fire behind his eyes burning so bright that you worry the gym might go up in smoke. His next words send a shiver down your spine and a chill coasting over the surface of your skin.

            “Get on the mat.”

            “Tell me what you remember.” Bucky orders, watching you from across the ring as your chest heaves and sweat drips down your temples. You’re hunched over with your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath. He narrows his eyes at you as you shoot him a menacing glare. “Why are you looking at me like that? Did you want me to go easy on you?”

            “You’re fighting dirty.” You accuse, glancing down at your forearms and noting the reddening skin there. He handled you with such a harsh grip that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow morning. Bucky smirks before crossing the ring in two long strides and tangling a hand in the hair at the back of your head. He tugs upward, forcing you to stand up straight, before tightening his grip and using it to tilt your head to the side.

            “Tell me what you remember.” He repeats, letting his eyes settle on the expanse of your neck. Do you remember him kissing, licking, and sucking the skin there? Do you remember the feel of his stubble scratching at it as he worked his mouth over your pulse? The quickening of your breaths as he holds you this way tell him that you do, you fucking remember.

            “Why does it matter what I remember?” You ask stubbornly, not yet attempting to break free from his grasp. Bucky lets his hand fall from your hair before shoving your back a little too hard, sending you stumbling into the center of the ring. He circles you like you’re some kind of prey and that only serves to stoke the fire in the pit of your stomach. How is he going to go from avoiding and practically ignoring you for days, to demanding shit from you now?

            “Because I want to talk about it.” He sweeps a leg out suddenly, aiming for the backs of your knees but you sidestep and he narrowly misses. You mimic his movements, moving in a slow circle around the ring as you face off.

            “You’ve been hiding ever since I was discharged from the hospital, but now you want to talk?” You throw a poorly executed punch that doesn’t even come close to making contact with Bucky’s solid body. He chuckles to himself and starts to formulate a plan in his head. He charges forward and grabs your right wrist before turning you around and hiking it up your back, pulling you against his chest with little to no effort. His scent envelopes you as he holds you there, with his breath tickling your neck and his knee snaking between your thighs.

            “Do you remember the first night they gave you that injection? The first night they let me see you?” He asks in a near-whisper, letting his lips graze against the shell of your ear. Your eyes flutter closed as you try to ignore his questions and focus on getting out of his hold. He tugs your twisted arm higher up your back and you feel the threat of injury building in the muscles of your shoulder. “Do you remember what I did for you?” As if he can sense how close your shoulder is to snapping, Bucky drops your arm in an instant, but he isn’t done with you. He sweeps your legs out from under you before you have a chance to recover. You go tumbling backward, but his fingers snag on the fabric of the front of your shirt and he catches you by it, before lowering you the last couple of inches to the mat. You lie on your back, eyeing his vibranium arm as he circles you on the floor. You remember what he did for you. You remember it in flashes, but still, you remember it.

            “I remember.” You admit, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down on it. Bucky scowls down at you before averting his gaze. You don’t miss the way he adjusts the front of his sweats, or the way he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before looking down at you again. When he’s composed himself, he steps closer and offers you a hand. You look at him warily, but place your hand in his. He should’ve seen it coming, but you’re yanking him down on top of you the moment your palms collide and he doesn’t have time to stop you. He lands with one leg between your parted knees and his vibranium hand on the mat beside your head, holding up some of his weight. With your faces only inches apart, neither of you moves at first. Bucky’s studying you closely, trying hard as hell to read the look in your eyes, but he can’t. You skate your right hand over his shoulder, moving down to his vibranium bicep until feel the edge of his shirt sleeve. Hooking your thumb in it, you meet Bucky’s intense stare with a playful one of your own, looking up at him through your lashes. You slide that sleeve up further and further until your fingertips are brushing over his scars. “Does it hurt?” You whisper, tilting your chin up as the question leaves your lips. He’s so close that you could barely move and still, you’d be kissing him. You feel him shudder against your touch before quickly shrugging your hand away.

            “Does what hurt?” He asks, moving his hands down to grip your waist before rolling you over. You end up straddling his lower half, but only for a second before he’s shoving you off and scrambling to his feet. As he tangles a hand in your hair again, you’re starting to wonder if he has some kind of kink for it. You’re getting tired of him playing dirty. You’re getting tired of playing this little game at all, honestly. Why is it so important to him that you remember every detail of what happened in that damn bunker?

            Bucky brings you up to your feet by the hold he has on your hair, just like he did earlier, but this time, he lets that hand loosen its grip and then glide down the side of your neck before coming to rest right around your throat.

            “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He says lowly. The mix of his suggestive tone and burning gaze has that heat in your stomach moving lower and lower until it’s pooling between your legs. “With my hand and my name around your neck.” He whispers the last part, leaning in close to your ear as he adds a little pressure to your throat. You can’t let him win this way, you can’t let him have the last word. So, you raise your right hand to his shoulder and with a few calculated movements of your wrist, his vibranium arm clicks and falls to the floor with a solid thud.

            Bucky’s stunned as he lets go of your throat and watches you slip through the ropes around the perimeter of the sparring ring. His eyes dart down to the black and gold arm at his feet and then back over to you as you head for the door, looking so damn content with yourself. He leans down and retrieves the arm, quickly positioning it for reattachment.

            “Can’t finish the job without the vibranium arm, can you?” You ask smugly, daring to steal one last look at him over your shoulder as you near the exit. You watch as he reattaches the arm and then rotates it fully in a circle around its socket. Something about the entire process is undeniably hot.

            “I finished the job without it the first night that HYDRA gave you the injection, twice.”

            You’re frozen in place as the memory floods in again. It’s not in bits and pieces this time, it’s not in flashes. You have a full body experience as you envision your head falling back against Bucky’s shoulder and his flesh fingers dipping between your legs. Two orgasms. He gave you two orgasms without ever lifting a vibranium finger.

            Bucky sees the shift in your demeanor. He can tell you’re lost in the memory when you don’t even track him as he tugs off his shirt and drops it on the mat before climbing through the ropes and making his way over to you, closing the distance quickly. By the time you’re coming back to reality, his flesh hand is sliding against the curve of your jaw while his vibranium arm is wrapping around your waist, tugging you into him. He kisses you desperately, and you feel the same fireworks you felt the first time he did it in that damn bunker.

            When you kiss him back, he can’t fucking control himself. He’s backing you into the closed door of the gym and tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth before slipping his tongue into your mouth and tasting you. Your lungs are burning for air by the time you realize what the hell you’re doing, and you push your palms flat against his bare chest. He sucks in a deep breath when you part, but it’s not enough, oxygen isn’t enough. You’re the only thing that makes him feel like he’s alive and he fucking needs you. If he could just breathe you in, he’d already be doing it.  

            “I’ve wanted to knock on your door every single night since you’ve been back here, just to ask if I can lay next to you for even a minute.” Bucky whispers against your lips, gently tracing the outline of your mouth with his thumb as he peers into your eyes. You look up at him through your lashes as you take in the confession.             “Why?” You ask, matching the quietness of his tone.           

            “Because I got a taste of what it feels like and I haven’t been able to sleep since.”

            “That’s all you want?” You pry, narrowing your eyes at him and letting your hands wander up to the sides of his ribcage. Something about being so close to him feels right, and yet, you hear alarm bells ringing in your head. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be confusing yourself like this. What happened in the bunker, under the influence of whatever was being pumped into your system, is clouding your judgement. You start to pull away from Bucky, but he refuses to drop the arm he has hooked around your back or the hand on the side of your face.

            “I want so much more than that.” He answers thoughtfully as his eyes dart down to your lips. “But that…I could live off of the feeling I get when I lay next to you for the rest of my life.”

            “Bucky, don’t say shit like that.” You tense up, grabbing both of his arms in your hands and pushing him away from you cautiously. He lets it happen, but he sure as hell isn’t planning on letting you walk out that door. Taking one step back, he notes that you haven’t actually made a move to leave yet, you’re just making sure he stays at arm’s length.

            “You’ll moan my name when I talk dirty to you but you can’t stand when I say something real?”

            “Fuck you. That’s not even real that’s just…you just think it’s real because we were under the influence of such a powerful drug. It’s clouding your memory, making you think we had some kind of real connection when we didn’t.”

            “I haven’t been able to sleep since the last night I laid in bed with you. That’s real.”

            “Okay, but you’ve had issues with insomnia for forever. It makes sense that those issues would flare up after what we went through down there.” You point out, trying to be rational.

            “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since the moment I woke up in that damn hospital. That’s real.” He’s going to keep listing things out to counter your argument until one of you runs out of responses. He isn’t going to let you diminish the connection that you had long before HYDRA stepped into the picture. It was real, it’s still real, and he’s clinging to it like it’s a lifeline.

            “You also put all of your energy into avoiding me for the past week. That’s real too, Bucky.” You cross your arms over your chest and lean back against the door, tempted to just throw it open and make a run for your room to get out of this conversation.

            “Because I felt guilty.” He finally admits. He breaks eye contact for a moment, turning to the side and reaching up with his flesh hand to massage his temples with his thumb and middle finger. You take the opportunity to run your eyes down his form, taking in his toned torso and flesh arm as he collects himself.

            ���We talked about that already.” You say softly, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “And then…” Bucky looks over at you, waiting for the end of your sentence to come. “And then you let me take advantage of you.” You remind him, not that he needs reminding. His breath hitches in his throat just at the mere fact that you’re the one bringing the memory up. You feel powerful for a fleeting second, so fucking powerful for having a visible effect on a man like Bucky.

            “I don’t feel guilty about that part of it anymore, you remedied that.” He assures you, avoiding your gaze. He goes back to massaging his temples like he has a headache and you let your arms fall away from your chest.

            “What do you feel guilty about then?” Bucky shakes his head before the question has fully left your mouth, and you’re starting to sense that you might not get an answer. “Bucky, please.” Fuck. He actually groans at the small taste of your begging, and that only gives him another reason to feel guilty. He takes a few abrupt steps away from you and glances at the clock, noting how much time has passed since everyone left for the funeral. People should be getting back to the tower soon.

            “HYDRA chose you because of your connection to me.” He’s expecting you to be upset, to blame him forever maybe. How dare he put you in harm’s way? How dare he be the reason that HYDRA snatched you off of the street that night? It’s why your soft chuckle has him whipping his head around to see if it’s really coming from you. That soft chuckle turns into an all-out laugh when you make eye contact with him, and confusion begins spreading across his features.             “What the hell did you think I thought? That they chose me because I’m so special and fertile?” You ask, your laugh breaking through every other word. “Bucky, no shit they chose me because I’m connected to you. They knew you wouldn’t have cooperated with just any woman they locked you in a room with.” He’s dumbfounded as he stares at you, truly not understanding how you’re so calm about this.

            “You should be pissed at me.” He says lowly, turning back toward the sparring ring and heading back for his shirt.

            “I’m pissed at you for avoiding me for days, and pissed that you were one of the ones acting like I was a fragile piece of fine China after I got back here. I’m not pissed at you for HYDRA’s bullshit.”

            Bucky continues moving across the gym, and you watch with bated breath as he scoops up his shirt and pulls it over his head. He reaches for your water bottle and phone at the edge of the mats and takes one item in each hand before heading back in your direction, keeping his eyes down.

            “Nothing was your fault, Bucky.” You say softly, as he hands you your things. The genuine feeling in your words, in your tone, has Bucky’s heart clenching in his chest. He knows you mean it, that you believe it, but he can’t seem to find it within himself to agree with the statement. When he finally looks into your eyes, you can tell he’s waiting for you to move away from the door so he can leave. “You were the only reason I survived down there. That’s real.”

            You can tell your words have struck some kind of nerve inside of him, but you step aside anyway, letting him leave through the gym door without so much as letting out a sigh in response to you. How are you the one who feels like shit after that conversation? After he handed you your ass on the mats and then kissed you out of the fucking blue? Oh, right. You feel like shit because he stood in front of you begging you to see how real your connection is, while you attributed it all to the toxin that HYDRA pumped into you. The man hasn’t been able to sleep since he got a taste of sleeping next to you. When he ruined you for any other man beneath a thin white sheet and the weight of his body, you were inadvertently ruining him for everything. You never once stopped to think about the power you hold over Bucky Barnes, until right now. And now, you feel like shit.

            He needs your scent gone. As Bucky stands in the shower in his private bathroom, scrubbing shampoo so deeply into his scalp that even his brain will emanate a scent of cleanliness, all he can think about is the way his skin smells like you. He got way too fucking close to you in the gym. Not only did he get too close, but he went as far as kissing you. What a fucking ass. He’s beating himself up over it as he rinses the last of the shampoo out of his hair and moves on to washing his body.

            You just think it’s real because we were under the influence of such a powerful drug. Your words swirl around in his head, making his temples ache and his stomach churn. It’s not real to you at all. It’s clouding your memory, making you think we had some kind of real connection when we didn’t. Fuck. Bucky slams his flesh hand against the shower wall just like he did in the gym showers not long ago, but this time, it doesn’t crack. What the hell was he thinking talking to you like that? What did he expect to accomplish? Did he really think you’d fall into his arms and tell him everything was real and that you wanted him long before HYDRA ever walked into your life and stole you away? Fucking idiot. He cuts the water off abruptly, snatching his towel from where it hangs over the glass shower door. Maybe next time, he’ll punch that. It’d be satisfying to see the thousands of pieces of glass rain down onto the floor.

            You’re perched on the foot of the bed, replaying the same words in your own head. You were harsh and you regret it. Though you might’ve convinced yourself that your words ring true, that the HYDRA experiment is clouding both yours and Bucky’s judgement and making you feel a connection where there isn’t one, you didn’t have to rain on his parade in such a villainous way. You glance around the dimly lit room, noting the way it doesn’t look all that much different from yours, aside from the distinct lack of décor and personal items. Bucky’s room is quite monotone and depressing, honestly. Maybe he’d sleep better if he had a soft throw blanket or a white noise machine. When the bathroom door handle starts to turn just a few feet to your right, you stiffen but remain seated on the foot of Bucky’s bed, refusing to chicken out now.

            Bucky’s eyes land on your immediately, and that burning feeling takes up residence in his lungs once more. It’s that undeniable feeling that oxygen doesn’t do him a damn bit of good when you’re around. He stops short in the bathroom doorway, holding onto the white towel that’s wrapped loosely around his waist. It dips low enough to show off his v-line and you find it embarrassingly difficult to keep your gaze focused on his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow.

            “Your room is across the hall.” Bucky says flatly, cocking his head in the direction of the door to the hall. You nod slowly, taking his soft rejection and choosing to ignore it for now.

            “You kept telling me what was real.” You start nervously. Bucky narrows his eyes further and you have to look away from him. His hard gaze is enough to make anyone shake in their damn boots, and you’re not even wearing any. You sit on the foot of his bed in a pair of gray sweats and an oversized t-shirt, avoiding making eye contact, and feeling a bit like a fish out of water. But you’re not going to wimp out, not after busting in here like crazy person and making yourself at home while he was showering. “You kept telling me what was real, and I wasn’t listening.”

            “Not listening is kind of one of your things.” Bucky’s tone is still flat and emotionless, though a hint of humor seems to peek through as he taunts you. You nod again, swallowing hard as he crosses his arms over his chest, letting go of the towel. The poor towel is barely hanging onto his hips, and you wonder if Bucky’s even aware that it might slip off at any given moment.

            “You’re right.” You admit, stealing another look at his face. His expression is unreadable. “Which is why I thought I’d ask you to show me something real, instead of telling me something real.” Bucky stops breathing altogether as the words fall from your lips.

            “What?” He asks, seeking clarification or repetition, he isn’t even sure which. He feels the towel threatening to slip down past his hips, so he grabs the corner of it in his flesh quickly, keeping it in place as he stares you down. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you shift on the bed, turning to face him head-on.

            “Show me something real. Show me that the connection we felt down there wasn’t just adrenaline and chemicals and HYDRA bullshit.” You can feel your cheeks heating up as you lay out the request in front of him. When he stays still in the doorframe, staring at you like you have two heads, you try one last thing to get him to understand you. You grasp the hem of your shirt in both hands and tug it over your head slowly, tossing the piece of fabric onto his bedroom floor. His eyes follow it like he’s afraid it might start a fucking wildfire the second it hits the carpet. But when he looks back at you? When he sees you sitting on the foot of his bed, in a little black bralette that perfectly cups your breasts with his dog tags hanging down the middle of your chest, the wildfire starts inside of him.  “Show me something real, Bucky.” You plead, taking one last deep breath before deciding to shut up. The ball is in his court now, and whatever he decides to say or do is completely out of your control.

            Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky’s gaze softens and his eyes flit up to meet yours in what feels like a warm embrace. He takes slow steps toward the bed, never breaking eye contact. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he reaches out with his flesh hand and you lean your cheek against his palm almost instinctively. Even then, you feel it. Connection. It’s like electricity sparking between his skin and yours as he glides his hand down to feel the curve of your jaw. Your eyes are closing at the gentle touch, at the light caress of his thumb over your cheekbone.

            “Do you feel that?” His voice is husky as the question swirls around the space between you. He leans down until his lips are brushing against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. “Just touching you like this is enough to help me sleep at night.”

            “Bucky.” You breathe his name out as you relax into his touch, and then he’s kissing you. He’s pressing his lips against yours softly at first, pulling back after two seconds to see how you’ll react, but you’re reaching up and grasping his face in both of your hands. You pull him back in immediately, kissing him like you really believe it’s real. It’s real. He moves over you on the bed, laying you down and pushing his tongue into your mouth while keeping his vibranium hand firmly on his towel. You feel the same fireworks from that first kiss in the bunker, igniting in the pit of your stomach and exploding outward, making your skin tingle and your cheeks flush pink.

            “Kissing you like this is enough to make me forget who I used to be.” He whispers against your lips, pressing his forehead against yours before lowering his body down more. You feel his weight settling over you and all you can hear in your head is a repetitive chorus of your own voice saying it’s real. “What more do you need to see that it’s real?”

            Bucky drags his thumb along your bottom lip, tugging it down as he looks into your eyes and awaits an answer. Your hands rest lightly on the bare skin of his sides, but as you contemplate his question, your right hand starts shifting. You slide it further down his side until you feel the fabric of his towel near his hip, then you follow the seam around his front until you get to where his vibranium hand is fisting the corner of it.

            “I need you.”

            Sex with Bucky Barnes is nothing like it was at the hands of HYDRA. With your clothes and his towel long forgotten on his bedroom floor, there’s nothing between the two of you as he shows you just how real your connection is. As he pushes his length into you, pressing his forehead against yours and staring into your widened eyes, you can’t deny it. When he drags his cock right back out at a torturously slow pace, you’ve never quite felt anything like this. It isn’t just the physical aspect of what he’s doing to you, it’s the intimate emotional part as well. He fucks you like…like he loves you. He fucks you like this was all inevitable, whether HYDRA chose you or not, it was always going to end up being you and him.

            Bucky’s committing every second of this time with you to memory. He’s storing it away, holding onto it so he’ll never forget. Bucky never wants to forget the moment that he watched you fall in love with him, right in front of his damn eyes.

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[cosmopretty]

My Shorty

Paige Bueckers x fem

Ice stands up and motions you to get up off of your girlfriend Paige’s lap. You shake your head no, not wanting to be embarrassed on KK’s TikTok live due to your height. The blonde behind you laughs and moves you off of her lap “Come on baby” she whispers.

You walk and stand next to Ice your head only reaching the higher part of her stomach. Everyone starts laughing around you both and you flip them off “Shut up the difference not that bad for real” you say shaking your head. Ice puts her elbow on your head and pretends to start reading comments you shoved her and walk back over to Paige and sitting back on her lap. KK laughs “Thank god Y/n came here because I used to get bullied for being short so thank you Y/n” the 5’9 basketball player laughs as you throw a pillow at her. ”I’m five foot four that’s not even short you guys are just giants like oh my fucking god” you get up and walk to Paige’s room and slam the door. Paige gives KK a look “Come on yall ain’t gotta do all that” the blonde gets up and goes to her room not before giving the live her signature rizz hands and a wink.

You lay on Paige’s bed your head stuffed in the pillow with your hands under it. You went mad at all don’t get it wrong, but it was annoying you how the lives comments were filled with short jokes like most of them weren’t the same height as you or shorter. Paige walks in and closes the door behind her, she climbs on the bed and straddles your hips her hands massaging your back. You turn your head and look at her “I’m sorry for slamming the door” you apologize. Paige shrugs “Baby I don’t care KK is out there telling the live to leave you alone” your girlfriends hands move up to your shoulders.

“Yeah it’s just annoying they point out I’m short for everything I do like it’s not the only thing about me” Paige nods at your words and flips you over so your lying on your back. She kisses you all over your face, you scrunch your nose and grab her cheeks pulling her off of your face “Your so pretty Paigey” the taller girl groans dropping her head into your neck.

“You know I love how your short right? I love how you only reach my chest when I hug you. How I can look over you when you’re standing in front of me so I can protect you. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen you my shorty” Paige tells you her head leaving on top on your stomach. You blush and kiss her nose before getting up from the bed “I love you my shorty” she says from behind you teasing you. You look at her “I love you too now let’s go back to the living room I’m hungry” you walk back over to the rest of the girls and sit next to KK on the couch.

KK hands you some blueberry TruFru and you smile at her before looking at the live and sticking your tongue out. KK words her arm around your shoulders “Your my bestie westie pookie” you make a disgusting face at her words and try to move away from her but she doesn’t let you. You make a fake scared face “HELP ME FROM THIS GREMLIN” you scream as KK starts tickling you. Azzi grabs your legs and drags you off the couch. You glare at her and she raises her hands in a fake surrender “I saved you” she says shrugging. Narrowing your eyes at her Paige lifts you up picking you up bridle style and sitting down on the couch out of the camera frame.

You lay your head on her chest and look over at Azzi “I’m gonna get you back” you point at her. Aubrey laughs at you “Yeah like you could lift more than twenty pounds” she says your head lifting at this.

“I might be short but I’m strong too” you say getting up. Paige nods and points at you “I have taught her well she is strong not as strong as me but she got little muscles” your girl backs you up. KK stands up and moves the camera so it’s facing you both. You look up at KK confused “Pick me up if your so strong tiny” the player says.

Paige nods “I bet twenty bucks that my girl can pick KK up” she says. Aubrey shakes her head “I bet twenty she can’t” the two girls shake in it before watching you and KK.

You bend your knees and wrap your arms around KK’s thighs. Paige smirks at you “Yeah baby just like that use your knees mama” she cheers you on. You pick KK and she squeals and grabs your shoulders shaking her no over and over “PUT ME DOWN YOU SMURF DOWN DOWN” she yells. You laugh and let her go before flexing at the live showing your small muscles “Told yall I got it like that” you smile and go back over to Paige.

She grabs your hand and you both go back to her room since it is around one in the morning. You lay down on her bed and Paige shuts the lights off and pulls you into her, spooning you. She kisses your neck “I knew you were strong baby. My little shorty” you turn your head to face her moving your body around “I’m your shorty but you’re my tall sexy girlfriend” you kiss her and she kisses back sliding her tongue in your mouth. You pull away and she smiles pulling you down into her chest “Go to sleep baby” Paige starts playing with your hair. Before you both slowly fall asleep you in her arms just how she likes it. Her shorty.

Please send requests and ideas

Also 2 story’s in one day WOW

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, self doubt, body image, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 17 - In Love With Her | ‘Ours’

“I know this isn’t true but I feel like I haven’t been out to a club in time” You giggled when you got shoved by a group of girls shuffling by. Trents face pulled into immediate annoyance almost anger swiftly pulling you tight to him protecting you from the crowds but his emotions shifted when his focus came back to you.  

“That’s not true, we went out in Vegas last month, baby. You don’t remember? I met you in the bathroom and I…” Trent began to remind you of your escapade on your trip for George’s birthday. You definitely remembered.  You definitely were still thinking about it too.

“Yes, Yes, I remember. Thank you, cheeky boy.” You rolled your eyes at him. Trent moved his arm next to your head, hand planted behind you on the wall. He caged you in. Just being this close in proximity to him was intoxicating. You felt drunk but you really didn’t think you were, maybe it was just him. He dragged his thumb over your glossy lips and your breath hitched before he leaned in to kiss you. Your back was plastered against the cool pillar behind you. You honestly couldn’t even remember the name of the club you were in. Everything had gone fuzzy. Seeing Trent illuminated in the colored lights of the club had your mind melting remembering all the times you’d been in one before with him. His effect on you was permanent. It would never fade. It was just the same now as it was the first night at the club you went to the first day you met in New York. 

“Do you ever think you want that?” Jude asked Lauren as they tucked into a velvety couch in the roped off area with two drinks. 

“What? Trent licking my neck? No.” Lauren joked with a serious face eyeing you and Trent still making out where they left you last. 

“Laur…” Jude cooed trying to be serious. She turned to actually look at him. Lauren wasn’t going to assume anything right now but she felt it all night. Tonight was rubbing what she assumed to be a non relationship in her face. She didn’t know what to say other than a joke. Lauren and Jude were together a lot. Lauren was at his house more often than she was at her own. Jet setting around, her holidays conveniently booked by Jude in the same locations as Real Madrid's away games. They were dating and tonight was a double date. They just needed to say it. “Like the dating thing…” Jude clarified for her but Lauren knew exactly what he was talking about.

“I mean they’re getting married, Jude it’s a little more than a date, don’t you think?” She teased him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He kissed her temple and she closed her eyes. Even the way they acted so instinctively and naturally made it so glaringly obvious they were more than what they were pretending they were. 

“Yeah, well, you know what I mean.” Jude wanted Lauren to say it. Lauren wanted Jude to say it. It was a big silent mess but the only thing Lauren could hear at the moment was her heart beating out of her chest. Jude pushed her hair behind her ear to get a better look at her face. She opened her eyes and attempted to keep them fixated on you across the club but he was like a magnet and her gaze shifted.  

“Dating? Erm… I don’t know…we date right?” Lauren sheepish asked. Jude could barely hear her in the loud club. She didn’t want to look into his deep dark eyes but she didn’t really have any other choice making her more nervous than ever.

“Do we date?” Jude said smugly with a coy smile. He was probably a bit more open about feelings and in general with life so he was pushing Lauren to realize what he had realized a month ago. He was trying to not to smile too outwardly though to not make her feel bad but he was gassed she was even this far into the conversation. 

“I mean you fuck me every week…” Lauren began her explanation only in a way Lauren would with a hot take that Jude didn’t love. He gave her a face like ‘really?’ She rolled her eyes. “Fine, we have sex…” She took a deep breath realizing her list of why they were dating continued on much longer than her one point. “You take me out, I sleep at your house even if we aren’t having sex, we buy each other gifts…” Jude laced his fingers with hers, holding her hand. She tried not to smile but he made her heart flutter. She dropped the shy smile forming on her face though. Jude sighed so Lauren continued. “You hold my hand.” Jude picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I know your phone password, I know your family, we talk all the time…I miss you when I’m not with you…I like you… a lot, like I feel like a complete idiot around you,  is that dating to you?” Lauren took another deep breath starting to deep what she had just said.  Once Lauren had spelled it all for Jude, but frankly for herself, she began to realize just how serious things might’ve been. He smiled pretty content with what she had shared. 

“Yeah, I think it is, Laur.” He cooed softly but calmly. His voice didn’t shake, he was ever cool and composed like he always is. She glanced at him inspecting his contrasting features, his unbelievably sharp bone structure yet incredibly soft lips and eyes. He smiled again catching her so Lauren’s eyes darted away fast. He laughed a little. This was incredibly uncharacteristic for her. Lauren was confident, sure of herself, right now she couldn’t be further from that. She was vulnerable around Jude when they were alone. He made her soft and she felt comfortable letting her guard down around him. Jude was light hearted and fun. He was sweet and thoughtful, everything Lauren would love to say she could care less about except Jude really was her dream man. She had fallen into the habit of being mushy with him at home but out at a club where she historically was eager and phlegmatic she found herself reeling with emotions, one of which was a real fear of him.

“Are we having this conversation in a club?” Lauren tried to stop the train from leaving the station. It’s not that she didn’t want this. She just had been avoiding the thoughts that had been clouding in head for months so much so that she hadn’t even confessed to you. She thought if no one knew, they’d dissipate but they only seemed to develop more. She was really overwhelmed by the fact that Jude seemed to know all the things she listed off and she didn’t somehow. He grabbed her chin and cupped her face bringing it close to his. “You don’t have to do this.” She whispered out hesitantly, getting distracted mildly by his close proximity now. He brushed his nose against hers.

“I want to do this.” Jude spoke low in a whisper just for her to hear. His lips ghosted over hers as he talked. He dropped one of his hands to her waist. She wasn’t planning on leaving, having the man she was falling for so close to her but Jude wanted to make sure. He kept a tight grip on her.

“Okay.” She muttered out. He hummed before he finally leaned a centimeter closer and kissed her. Their lips collided in the most electrifying way. Lauren’s eyes closed but she could feel the water build behind her lids. She squeezed them tighter, blinking away the emotion she felt crashing over her as she agreed with him.

“Okay?” He purred, pulling his lips off hers but not going too far. He stayed fearlessly right in front of her. Shamelessly staring deeply into her eyes. He could see the slight gloss. He ran his thumb over her cheek. 

“Okay.” Lauren confirmed once more with an uncontrollable slight smirk pulling at her lips not sure what she had just got herself into.  

Eventually you and Trent pried yourself off each other and decided it was time to join the two people you had come out with. When you returned to the private table you slid onto a seat next to Lauren. You wrapped your arms around her waist and rested your chin on her. You hung out for a long while but it was more dancing, kissing, and drinking then it was talking until there were no drinks left except a few shots no one wanted so Jude and Trent offered to go get more of something else. You could sense there was a weird vibe though. Not weird in a negative way just as if something had changed, like there was a secret but you didn’t know who was keeping one. You nodded dismissing them to go. Lauren moved away from you and you were confused momentarily until she looked at you biting her lip. 

“What? You’re making me nervous.” You laughed pulling one of your legs up onto the seat cushion. Lauren reached out and placed her two hands on each of your knees, steading herself. 

“I think I’m dating Jude?”  Lauren whispered to you so quietly you thought she might've just mouthed the words to you.  

“What?!?” You just about screamed! You tried to jump up for dramatic effect but Lauren’s hands acted as anchor weights on your body. You slapped your hands over the back of hers in shock. 

“Y/N shh! I don’t know, I don’t know, it was all very vague.” She explained a little louder but nevertheless quietly in a panicked tone. She looked at you as if she had just told you she did something horribly wrong.

“Vague?? Lauren!?!” You pressed her for more details but your back was facing the bar so you didn’t see that Trent and Jude were approaching with drinks. Lauren did though so she just shook her head silently at you. You wanted to grill her for more. What had happened during your delay in coming to the table an hour and a half ago.

“For you baby.” Trent cooed, handing you a tequila drink. You smiled, reaching up to kiss his lips. He plopped down onto the seat next to you and pulled you onto his lap. You sat in between his legs on the seat with yours draped over his thigh. You almost spilled your very full drink with his harsh drag of your body. Lauren ripped one of the shots that was still remaining in front of her on the table. You snapped your head from Trent to her, shocked by her sudden movement and brash decision. 

“We’re going to dance.” Lauren told Jude as her hand grabbed his face. It wasn’t as sudden or at the pace at which she took the shot but it was relatively harsh. You blinked your eyes trying not to react so you puffed the air out of your mouth. Trent squeezed your side for comfort, not sure what you were responding to. 

“I’m going to dance.” Jude responded looking back at you and Trent being pulled in the direction away from you by Lauren. Jude had a cheesy smile on his face. He looked like a little kid, thrilled to be in the position he was in and now you maybe were understanding why he was smiling just a little bit more now.  Trent quipped a sarcastic ‘have fun’ comment before you whipped around back to him once they were out of view. 

“I think they’re datingggg!!!!” You quietly screamed, grabbing his face. He winced not expecting your outburst but his shocked face fell into a smile seeing you so excited. He placed his much larger hands over yours before he dragged your hands off his face and guiding his onto your waist.

“Wow..” Trent responded slowly processing what you were saying. You went back and forth for a little while discussing things about the potential of Lauren and Jude dating but you got side tracked when Trent’s hands began to wander.

“Do you want to date me?” You giggled childishly aksing him a very silly question. You didn’t think you were drunk but as the question came out.. Maybe you were.

“No…” He was quick to say no. So quick that you were almost offended but Trent put your worrying mind at ease when he spoke again. “I wanna marry you, pretty girl.” He laughed a little letting out such a cheesy line. He ran his hands under the back of your sweater guiding them over your bare back.

“Oh, I like that better” You sheepishly responded with a little smile, tucking your face into the nape of his neck embarrassed by the cheese. Trent’s hands continued up your back and teasingly played with the clasp of your bra again and again. 

“C’mon baby, don’t be shy. You know I want to marry you.” He spoke right up against your ear closest to him.You could feel his hot minty breath hitting your skin. His fingers caressed down your back. One hand dropping to hold your waist the other pulling your face for him to see. He looked at you completely smitten. He pinched your cheeks together, pursing your lips for you and pulled your body closer to his simultaneously. He gave you nothing but teasing looks waiting for you to initiate the kiss. You leaned in towards his lips with his hand still holding your face. Your own hands dropping to his waist sliding slyly under his t-shirt but you hovered millimeters away from his perfect pout.

“I’m not shy.” You whispered in a voice you didn’t know you did when you were turned on but Trent knew it very well.  

“No? I think you are a little shy. Hiding from me at dinner, won’t kiss me right now..” You cut off Trent’s ramble. You closed the gap between you two, kissing him. It was pure heaven kissing him. He smiled into the kiss. Again and again, Trent pressed kisses to your lips. In the dim lighting of the club he thought you never looked better as he pulled away to inspect your beauty for a moment. 

”I can’t wait to marry you, T.” You cooed hushly, before your hands tugged at his hair to bring him back into a steamy kiss. Your tongues dancing in perfect rhythm. He kissed down your neck finding the spot he knows you love. You felt his plump lips pull into a cheeky smirk against your skin as you stifled a moan. 

“No one else in the fucking world can will ever be able to have you.” He spoke to you murmuring against your neck but you could still hear him clearly.  

“No one else could have me now.” You assured him that whether you were married or not, you weren’t going anywhere.

“I want the government to know that.” He looked up at you with a serious face. You sat back a little to get him off your neck and too really look at him. You giggled seeing the sincerity on his face. He really meant that. “You going to let me take you back to our room now?” He whispered coming in closer to your lips not letting you go too far. You nodded with a juvenile smile and excitement. 

“What are we gonna do there?” You asked him teasingly. He just leaned forward and told you to shut up silently with a kiss.

“You wanted to dance with me?” Jude asked Lauren in a smug tone sliding his hands around her hips from behind as she walked further into the club. His lips ghosting behind the shell of her ear. 

“I wanted to be alone with you. Just wanted to be with you right now. I don’t want to be with them.” Lauren turned around and gazed up at him with a look Jude didn’t see on her face often. Lauren was scared. She looked like a little girl in a way. Her eyes wide and almost bordering on tearful. She was bitting on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. 

“Lauren” Jude said her name as calmly as he could readjusting his hold of her. He held her waist securely close to him but still a good distance apart so he could really see her. “If you’re not ready for this right now, I’ll wait for...” Jude’s sweet words attempting to tell Lauren that he really liked her and enough that he wouldn’t mind holding off on dating if she wasn’t there yet, he’d wait but Lauren cut him off with a kiss. The kiss was hot and charged. Now this was a Lauren Jude did see often. She pulled away out of breath and turned around too embarrassed by her emotions to look at him. He grabbed her hips and pulled her ass back into him. She grinded up against him leaning back and resting her head onto his shoulder. Jude dragged his massive hand down the front of her throat. His lips slowly kissed behind her ear. His other hand beginning to slide over her bare stomach flirting with the waistband of her trousers. 

“I’m ready.” Lauren cooed, confirming she wanted this. She wanted him but even knowing that her voice was still shaky. She rolled her head to the side more to give him room to keep his lips on her. 

“Let me take you home, Laur.” He whispered against her skin. A shiver ran down her spine. They came back and Lauren trotted up the steps to were you and Trent were. You stood up and met her halfway. 

“Hey, I think we’re gonna go home…”  You cooed to Lauren cheekily excited for your night. Lauren had the same look on her face.

“Oh… same.” She smiled at you and then began to laugh. She reached around you and grabbed her bag. 

“Practice abstinence or you could end up with a friend for Teddy!” You joked with her. She rolled her eyes and pinched at your side. She ran over to Trent and gave him a quick hug. Jude stood down below the section so Trent stood up and dapped him up through the railing. I guess they had some sort of mind reading capability that you and Lauren didn’t. They knew exactly what was going on before Lauren had told you she was leaving. You came behind Trent and wrapped one arm around him. You squeezed Jude’s shoulder saying goodbye and you watched them walk out. 

When you got back to the hotel you had no idea what time it was. You flopped onto the bed utterly exhausted though. Trent crawled over top of you. He peeled your sweater off over your head leaving you in just the skimpy bra he had played with early. He was so gentle, peeling off your clothes and then undoing your heels. You pouted at how sweet he was with you. Since having your little girl you felt like Trent treated you fairly delicately. He wasn’t as unrestrained anymore. It was almost like he was scared to hurt the mother of his child. He turned around in the room and pulled his shirt off over his head. His back muscles flexed and danced and your mouth watered. He took off his trousers and your mouth was definitely watering. He turned around to see a hungry lust painted on your face. 

“See anything you like?” he asked with a cheeky smile that made your heart race. He was so fucking pretty. You scooted forward on the bed in just your bra and panties and stuck your arms out beckoning him over to come be with you. In no time he was overtop of you, both you now sans clothes, his hard cock teasing your dripping pussy. He caressed his hand over your cheek. The softest touch you ever felt but you felt your mind shift noticing you weren’t focusing on that sweet touch but more on his hard cock rubbing against you. 

“T… I want you to be rough with me.” You whispered to him with a sweetly juxtaposed smile.

“You want me to be rough?” He asked you stopping his movements looking down at you making sure he heard you correctly.

“Think about it, we're in a hotel, there’s no Teddy, we’re in Spain… it could be fun.” You giggled. Trying to convince not giving great reasons but you were hoping he wouldn’t need any.

“A lot of that doesn’t exactly merit me being rough with you but yeah if you want me to be, baby.” He hovered over top of you a little confused but returning your smile still interested in what you were asking for.

“Like… I want to be a whore for you.” You sounded more shy than you wanted but nevertheless you said it. His eyes widened in shock. I mean you guys definitely got pretty dirty and he had a very clear dominance in the bedroom but… it was rare that any sort of degradation was involved. Calling you anything other than perfect wasn’t really your vibe.

“Baby... I don't.” Trent gritted his teeth not loving the idea. He understood it. It’s not that he didn’t view you in a way where he couldn’t imagine it but he just really preferred taking care of you, praising you, loving you so it took him a moment to wrap his head around this.

“Just a little. Like do whatever you want to me.” You looked at him painfully and confusingly innocent. “When we're at home I’m a mum and right now… I don’t want to be.” You giggled grabbing onto his biceps.

“I get it… “ he blew some air out accepting the idea. “Alright. You think that’ll be fun?” He laughed a little. You nodded “We’re gonna do this my way though.” He told you sternly.

“Okay.” You moaned as he quickly had his lips kissing on your neck, nibbling on your most sensitive spots. Like you weighed nothing Trent rolled you two over. You almost gasped, it caught you so off guard. He moved himself backwards and sat leaned against the hotel bed. He harshly pulled your legs up and over to straddle his thigh. Your heart was racing with excitement. You were trying your best not to smile. 

“You know how much I love you, yeah? How much I respect you?” He asked you a question as his hard wrapped around your throat gently but with pressure. You nodded incredibly turned on. You didn’t realize but you were grinding on his leg already. Rubbing your throbbing clit against his muscular thigh. You were desperately wishing that you were riding him. Trent dropped his serious look when you nodded your understanding. His face fell into pure amusement seeing you now. He pushed his tongue in his cheek with a smile. You frowned at him when he gripped onto your hips holding you down. This was not what you thought you were signing up for. You pawed at his perfectly sculpted thighs begging for more movement, more friction, more of him. He smiled watching you desperately rub on on top of him, making yourself whimper. His hands on you felt like fire. “You like getting off on my thigh, baby.” He laughed, planting a kiss behind your ear teasingly. “Nah, what’s wrong? You said you wanted me, you got me… What’s wrong then?” He looked at you with a devious smile. You whined looking at him with puppy dogs hoping it would sway him but it did nothing. You looked at his hard cock laying up against his abs beginning to leak pre cum onto his tanned skin. It looked so good. You wanted him inside of you so bad you thought you might cry. “I can’t just spoil you all the time, pretty girl.” He cooed in a pompous way that made you want to scream. You had no idea you would get this desperate, you never realized how much he gave to you upfront. He could tell too but he was holding his ground. You asked for this. This was self inflicted. 

“T… please, baby.” You whimpered. You made a poor attempt to grind against him. He loosened his hold on your waist letting your grind down more on him slipping on his thigh making a mess you were so wet. You were dripping all over him. He shook his head, not giving in to your complaints. You let go of his thigh in front of you and greedily wrapped your hands around his length. “I want to ride you, T… please. I need it, I need you, I need your cum.” You greedily begged. Trent swallowed trying his best to withstand this but he was struggling. His hands loosened on you. You quickly took advantage of this and moved off his thigh. You aligned his cock underneath you. You looked him in the eye for approval but he was so taken aback by your sudden movement that he couldn’t process what you were doing. Trent was aching to be buried inside you. You were the same, you couldn’t wait any longer, you had had enough of the teasing. You began to sink down onto his length. Trent threw his head back against the headboard letting out a rough groan. He opened his eyes to watch you take all of him. You looked so fucking hot when you were this needy for him, when you were so desperate that you took what you wanted and what you wanted was him. Your shoulders rolled forward and your jaw slacked, finally feeling him. Trent could’ve cum just from hearing you talking, no begging him like that. 

“Fuck! That what you wanted, baby? You wanted my cock?” He sat up and dropped his hands to your hips helping you move up and down on him. You nodded pathetically. He smacked your ass. Not once, but again and then, when you moaned, again. “Such a good girl for me. Keep riding me just like this, baby. So good for me.” He praised you like he preferred and honestly you fucking loved it. Your pussy clenched every time he told you you were a good girl. He harshly thrusted up into you, pushing so deep it almost knocked the wind out of you. Your body collapsed onto his unable to stay up any longer. He held you tight to him, fucking up into you but not without a sweet kiss to your hair. He rolled you two over to be on top. You started to cry that's how good he was fucking you. He was so deep. You had cried in bed during sex before but Trent needed to make sure you were okay. “Baby… tell me we’re okay, yeah? You want to keep going?” He asked you with the most sincere loving look.

“Yeah, please T. It’s okay, I’m okay, please, T. Keep fucking me. It's so good.” You spoke with a tremor in your voice. He hovered over you propped up by his arms. His strokes were strong and deep. Your foot dragged down his back sensually pulling him closer to you. He moved his face closer to you. You kissed him softly. “I can handle it, promise.”  You cooed. Trent buried his face into your neck with a groan. You loved the way he smelt all the time but there was something about the way he did when he was in bed with you, his cologne had faded, mixed with a bit of sweat and he was so close to you it wafted all around you. 

“Good.” He replied a little relieved you were okay and a lot relieved because he was loving every second of this. “Want me to be rough with you? You want to be a whore just for me?” He whispered in your ear and your pussy clenched exponentially tighter around him. He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah? You like that baby? You only get to do this with me. No one else can ever touch you.” Trent told you sternly continuing to fuck you. He pulled back and picked up one of your legs switching positions. You looked so perfect underneath him. He didn’t really think of you like his whore, you were a fucking angel for him and only him but he’d play along if it got you like this. 

“I love you. Oh my god, T! Just for you, Only with you.” You whimpered trying to stop yourself from drooling. He smiled hearing you tell him that. His dimples appeared in his gorgeous smile. “Fuck!” You whine, balling the sheets under you into your fists. Trent groaned, feeling and hearing how wet you were. He loved that he got you this way. He leaned over again to whisper in your ear but before he spoke you grabbed onto his wrist squeezing it tightly as he railed into you.  

“Wanna hold my hand baby?” He cooed before he nipped a kiss on your neck. That’s exactly what you wanted. You whined and pouted almost on the verge of tears again. He pulled away from your neck and sat back a little but still remained inside you. 

“T… You moaned desperate for him to continue. He gave you a cheeky smile seeing your pout but then flicked his gaze down to your glistening pussy stuffed full of him. His lips curled into another smile but this one was different. This was a sinister smile. He guided his thumb to your clit and pressed hard shapes down over it. You were squirming beneath him. 

“Baby.” He snapped at you in a cold tone. Your jaw slacked and you tried to still. He pushed his thighs wider to move your legs further apart and upward. The air of the cold hotel room sent a chill up your spine as it reached your sensitive wet core. Then to your surprise Trent slapped his hand against your folds. Not gently mind you, but definitely not overtly mean either just enough to have you whining and fidgeting.

“T, I’m gonna cum. Please!” You cried. He tapped at your sensitive throbbing clit with wet slaps.

“Go ahead, baby. Cum f’me. That’s okay.” Trent didn’t often deny you of an orgasm. He felt like he was winning if that was happening so it was always a bit of an ego boost but you didn’t care what it was you wouldn’t have been able to hold this one. Your high crashed over you and you gushed.Your arousal dripping from your pussy. “Such a messy girl f’me. Such a messy pussy.”  Trent cooed smiling proudly watching you squirt onto him, your release running down your thighs. He ran his thumb back over your clit and you couldn’t handle it. It was way too much. 

“Trent, itt’s too much, ah please, T.” The first name either meant you were really happy or really serious. The desperation in your voice had Trent leaning towards the ladder so he stopped. 

“Good girl. You okay?” He asked sweetly and you nodded. “I love you, baby.  Doing so good f’me.” He cooed, bringing his drenched fingers covered in your sweet arousal up to your mouth. “Taste, beautiful.” He whispered, dragging them over your lips. You opened your mouth and let him push them in. You moaned, swirling your tongue over his fingers. “My good girl.” He cooed once more, pulling them out of your mouth now. He kissed your lips and you whined. “Still want me to hold your hand?” He asked but you couldn’t focus as he began to fuck you again. “Keep being a good girl for me and cum on my cock again. Can you do that f’me?” He asked, beginning to start drilling into you again. You tried to nod but your eyes rolled back before you could in the cutest way. It was very lewd but somehow managed to be cute. After a long while of sheer bliss the knot in your stomach tightened again.

“I’m gonna cum, T… Oh my fucking god!.” You choked out a whine feeling him hit deeper inside. Your pussy was throbbing. “I wanna cum, baby!” You cried out desperately sweet.

 “Tell me how deep you feel me, baby? Tell me first. Show me.” He instructed you sternly but incredibly smooth and loving. It was almost confusing but your head was gone anyways. This was ethereal. Just the way Trent was speaking to you made you feel like you were going to orgasm. You could feel the vein running down the length of his cock slide inside your walls. You moaned pathetically. You threw your head back onto the pillow as your legs began to shake utterly fraught. “Baby” He cooed trying to get you to come back to him and the moment to answer him. 

“Can feel you right here, T. You’re so deep, fuck, baby.” You mewled, taking one of his big hands and guiding it towards the place on your stomach where you could see the impression of him. Trent’s cock twitched and he let out a groan before a small greedy breathless laugh. He leaned forward over you more and nipped at your neck. 

“You take me so well, baby. Shit. You’re fucking perfect.” He purred into your ear. You shut your eyes but opened them wide when you felt him drag his hand back down towards your clit. You were of two minds. Part of you wanted to scream and tell him enough and part of you wanted to scream and tell him you wanted more. He began to rub your clit in precise movements. “Always so wet f’me. Wanna cum with me, baby? I need to cum inside this pussy.”

“T… baby.” you cried. You could only manage his name. You fell apart curse words falling from your lips repeatedly. You were at your limit. The drag of his cock had you almost delirious. His fingers dug into your skin. Trent rolled his head back in pleasure as he thrusted into you one more time before he spilled into your tight heat. You gently tried to roll your hips up into him more to help him ride out his high. “So good f’me, baby. Did so good.” He laid over top of you nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck. He pressed a sweet kiss to your warm skin. After your breathing began to calm slightly he rolled off you collapsing against his side of the bed. You inched back over to him not wanting to be apart for long. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you tight.  Your head laid on his chest. You could hear his heart racing. “Good girl.” He murmured out completely exhausted before he kissed your hair. You giggled. A smile stretching across your face. You almost liked this part better. That’s a lie but it was a close second. “You just wanted to be a little dirty for me, huh?” Trent spoke to you with his eyes closed and a blissful smirk. You had him whipped. He was down bad for your pussy but also completely in another way. Trent didn’t think he could describe it. There was nothing to describe because it was simply indescribable. He couldn’t even tell his friends because as much as they would talk about their sex lives they wouldn’t understand the amount of love he had for you and why it made sex so great. 

“I just don’t want you to forget that I’m still like me, like pre baby me, pre mum. I still want you to want me. To have fun with me.” You giggled shyly stroking your hand over his bicep. 

“Baby, come on… I want you all the time. We can have more fun but I didn’t want to pressure you. We can do this whenever you want. You know I just want to take care of you. I love you so much.” he pouted looking at you. Every time he looked at you, that's what you were. You were the mother of his child. His whole world revolved around you. That didn’t mean he didn’t find you sexy and definitely didn’t mean he didn’t want to have sex all the time but he just was such a melt for you.

“You're such a mushy lover boy.” You teased pitching at his cheek before dragging your thumb over his flushed plump lips.

“Only for you.. embarrassing for you.” He laughed and shook his head. He knew he was down bad. He felt a little pathetic but he didn’t want to be any other way for you. When he woke up in the morning you were tucked in his arms wearing his t-shirt. He smiled looking at your sleeping figure. You looked so beautiful wrapped up like that. He wanted to stare at you all day and the funny thing was he knew he wouldn’t get bored of it either. 

“Hi” you giggled, fluttering your eyes open, feeling his gaze on you. 

“Mmm good morning to the most beautiful girl in the world.” He cooed. 

“Gimme a kiss please.” You whispered greedily and reached up for him. You pecked his lips and tried to return back to your place.

“Nah, gimme a proper kiss please” he spoke softly in the quiet morning. A soft smile took over your face, your hands gliding to cup his cheek. You kissed him softly, your lips moving perfectly sleepily, your bodies heating up again.

“I want you, T…” You moaned into his mouth dragging your body to lay on top of his finding yourself waking up incredibly horny still thinking about last night. 

“Hold on Jude’s calling me…” Trent suddenly stopped your very heated moment. You looked at him like he was crazy. He was stopping you to talk to Jude? He laughed seeing your response. He picked up his phone off the night stand and kissed your temple. “I want to hear about last night!” he explained, gesturing towards you like ‘don’t you?’ You nodded as he answered. 

“Yo, bro you alright?” Jude spoke calmly but something felt… off. 

“Yeah, mate all good.” Trent tried to emulate the same emotion back but clearly they were both beating around the bush about what they wanted to know. 

“Just wanted ask you about something quick, you got a second? Lauren is out with my mum so I only have a little bit of time.” Jude explained. You could hear him say Lauren was out with Denise but not very clearly. You looked at Trent and mouthed excitedly ‘This is my point!’ emphasizing the fact that Lauren and Denise together so often should’ve been a clear indicator that they weren’t nothing. Lauren liked to tell herself she did want a relationship but it was hard to ignore when it was perfectly laid for her. It was so obvious though. She’s was here in Madrid all the time. She was here in Madrid all the time… at his house. Although, she struggled wrapping her head around it. It was almost like Jude was too good for her. Lauren really believed she deserved the best. She deserved a man that looked like Jude, that had the status Jude did but how nice he was to her? Unprecedented. Uncharted territory for her. She was in a group chat with his family. She’d never been a family group chat with a boy’s family before. She was apart of their conversations, their daily life. She knew when his dad’s birthday was. She was rattled Jude and her had even continued talking after they met in Greece let alone know his families birthdays. Oh boy did they talk after Greece. Maybe ‘talking’ isn’t the right word… it did start out more like a sexing escapade but falling asleep on the phone with someone with all her clothes on in another country became more common than the nude photos she was sending. She couldn’t believe she’d wake up in his bed now months later and  she’d want to stay there with him. She didn’t stop him when he held her hand or he kissed her temple. She had become a melt and it terrified her. 

“I think I am dating Lauren.” Jude told Trent with an unsure tone. ‘Act surprised!!’ you mouthed to Trent. You shoved at him excitedly. He nodded understanding you. 

“Shit, really?” He responded as excited as Trent would normally to not freak Jude out. Trent wasn’t exactly someone who was screaming too often. “So, you asked her to be your girlfriend?” Trent asked curiously, wondering how serious their conversation last night was. Your eyes widened hearing Trent say the word. 

“Nah, nah, no. I didn’t. I don’t think it’s like that.” Jude explained. Trent sat up in bed and you followed. You moved to sit beside him crossed legged, laying your head on his shoulder eager to hear what was being said. ‘Move it to speaker’ you whispered, gesturing to Trent. Trent laid his phone on the bed for you to listen as well. He shook his head though turning to face you. ‘This is fucked up’ he mouthed to you ‘He’s talking to me not you.’ You waved your hand dismissing him. 

“I’m not sure she wants to date me. I feel like a fucking idiot, bro. I don’t mean this to sound obnoxious but I’ve been actively choosing to not talk to other girls for her. My messages are stacked.” You rolled your eyes listening to Jude talk about his ‘big sacrifice and full inboxes.'  “but I want her and I am not sure she’s interested in that.” Then Jude continued and you felt bad. You knew Lauren was terrified but you were almost angry at her for making Jude sound so sad. It seemed silly because they both wanted the same thing. 

“Why would you say that? She’s there all the time, mate. She’s with your mum right now. It’s not like Denise would be with her just because. She has to like her.” Trent explained going off his own experience. Mums of all boys and professional athletes on top of that, no matter how kind they were, they were not messing about. They were not putting up with any riff raff Jude or Trent would try to bring home. It maybe would be unexpected to most, although not surprising to you because you’d seen it first hand before but Denise loved Lauren. Despite her outgoing nature and unfiltered mouth around you, Lauren was incredibly polite. She had great people skills. If you put her at a dinner table in any country she’d have the best manners by a mile. She spoke a few languages, she was well traveled, unbelievably smart. Lauren was every parent’s dream until she was sneaking out, and going out. When it came to the hours of the night, things took a different direction. But unless it was Lauren’s own parents, no one knew what was going on. She was incredibly sly. She’d go out till 5 in the morning and arrived to a charity event at 7 am looking like she just walked out of a salon. You admired her craftsmanship and boys were obsessed with it. She embodied ‘lady in the streets but a freak in the bed.’

“Of course my mum likes her. She knows I’m in love with her.” Jude said matter of fact quickly explaining one of the reasons Denise liked Lauren. You slapped your hand over your mouth to suppress the scream you wanted to let out. You flopped back onto the bed kicking your feet . You sat up to listen more though and squeezed Trent bicep. Your long nails dug into his soft skin. “Fuck….” Jude sighed “Don’t… don’t tell Y/N I said that. I gotta figure this out somehow. What do I do?” He sounded so defeated. 

“Ow” Trent swatted at your hand for you to release his arm from your grip. Once you did he turned his attention back to the phone. “You could talk to her, ya know.” Trent said to Jude like it was obvious. “When do you usually talk?” He asked. Jude went silent trying to think of a better answer than the truth. “Okay, well fine. When you’re in bed then.” You smiled loving Trent’s ability to read people. He was so intuitive. It was amazing, sometimes annoying when it was directed at you, but amazing nonetheless. “Ask her then.”

“Bro, I told her last night if she needed time,I’d wait for her but she cut me off and told me she was ready.” Jude explained a brief excerpt of their conversation last night.  

“I don’t see the problem then, what are we talking about here?” Trent asked slightly confused that if Lauren said she was ready what was Jude freaking out about. 

“Bro! I don’t know what I’m talking about! I don’t know what we’re doing.” Jude ranted about him and Lauren very confused. Trent paused thinking for a minute. The line going silent which bothered Jude. “Oh fuck off, mate. I gotta go, they just got back home. Go enjoy your perfect family.” He snipped. 

“I was just thinking! Relax!” Trent laughed at his dramatics. “I’ll talk to you online tomorrow, mate.” Trent said goodbye but Jude was long gone. They’d always be online playing FIFA but you were curious if they’d continue this conversation or skip over it. You guessed you’d find out. 

“I need to talk to Lauren!” You reached for your phone plugged in still on the bedside table. Trent stopped you and grabbed your arm pulling you back to him. 

“You need to not do that. That’s not fair to him. Let them work it out.” Trent explained. You understood his rational it was the more adult thing to do but it was hard not to meddle when there was a potential relationship happening between your friends. You followed Trent’s guidance though. You took a much needed shower after last night but climbed back into bed immediately after. You fell back asleep not long after. Around 8 am Dianne let herself into your hotel room. You had told her to do so. The suite had a few rooms so it wasn’t like she was walking directly into where your bed would be. 

“Good morning” She sang bouncing Teddy in her arms. “I have a very special delivery.” She laughed, kissing Teddy’s cheek. Teddy giggled. You were passed out still but Trent could identify that cute sound from a mile away. 

“My teddy bear, C’mere!” Trent cooed, seeing them enter the other room. Dianne set Teddy on her own two feet. Trent sat upright so she was able to see where he was in the bed. 

“Dada!!” She squealed with a giggle, waking the best and fastest she could to him. Trent shuffled to the side of the bed and scooped her up off the ground under her arms and plopped her to sit on top of his abs. She had the biggest smile on her face. Completely transfixed on him. 

“I like your pretty bows. Did nana do your hair?” Trent asked, pulling one of her tiny ringlet curls straight letting it bounce back. Dianne had put Teddy's hair into two high ponytails with little bows on each one. It was really fucking cute. Teddy nodded and turned back to point to where Dianne was but Dianne had gone into another room already letting you all have your morning after she had waved to Trent. 

“Mama!” In the midst of Teddy’s search to find Dianne she clocked that you were next to her and Trent. She pressed her tiny palm to your face. Leaning her weight down squishing your cheek.

“Oh gentle, Ted. Mummy is sleepy.” Trent cooed with a laugh pulling her chubby arm away from you. Teddy giggled looking in between you two. You woke up with a smile on your face.

“Is that my baby? My beautiful girl!” You pulled her off Trent and into your arms. You squished her to your chest and rolled side to side giving her the tightest hug. “Helllooo. How are you, Teddy girl?” You sang giving her a big kiss.

“Hugwy mama” she cooed. Her little hands grabbing at you. Her face lit up in excitement. You pouted a little bit that she was starting to be able to communicate so effectively. It was a few words here and there but food was important so this was really good. “Should we get breakfast?” You asked and her eyes drew wider. Teddy loved breakfast. You think it was because it was a meal that the three of you got to share a lot together. Before training Trent could spend time with you so the word definitely sparked excitement. You pulled her extra close to you and she giggled more. “Should we invite dada?” You whispered in her ear cheekily looking back over to Trent. You pulled her away from you a little. She squealed for Trent. A loud ‘dada’ echoing through the room. She wiggled out of your hold and crawled back over to him not without practically stepping all over you. Using your face to push off of with her hands for leverage. You couldn’t help but laugh at her eagerness.

“I’ll take you, mama, and nana to breakfast if you gimme a big kiss, Ted.” Trent told Teddy helping her over you. 

“Kiss?” She questioned him and tilted her head. Trent reached up and tapped his finger against his lips. She smiled and leaned forward. 

“Mwah! Good girl. Thank you so so much. You make daddy so happy., baby bear” He cooed with a slight laugh. You got up eventually and told Dianne the plan. Trent showered while you got Teddy dressed and ready then you began to do your makeup. While you were in the ensuite Teddy waddled in carrying your purse to bring it to you. 

“Thank you!” You giggled seeing the bag that wasn’t that big next to you look massive against her small frame. You weren’t dressed yet so you didn’t need it any time soon but you appreciated her effort. It was sweet. “You’re so stylish, Ted. Want to hold onto it for me?” Her face pulled into a greedy smile excited to get to keep hold of it. She just carried it around the room, taking it everywhere she went until you left and even after that.  

“C’mere, baby.” Trent took your hand in his as you walked down a sunny Spanish street while you pushed Teddy’s pram. You had eaten breakfast and decided to take a longer route back to the hotel before your flight home this evening.  Teddy held your bag for you in her seat. She hugged it like it was a stuffed animal, suddenly that was the toy of the day. You didn’t mind, whatever made her happy. “You like mummy’s bag? Should we get you one?” Trent asked her with a childish smile crouching to be level with her as you waited for the crosswalk to change. 

“T… no, that's insane” You smiled at the offer and as funny as it was you knew he was serious. He wanted to buy her a bag. Not one for little girls,  a real designer bag.  

“C’mon it’ll be cute!” He pleaded with you. Dianne shook her head and shrugged when you looked at her for back up. She knew just what you did, if he wanted to do something he was going to do it. 

“Baby, she's 15 months old, I don’t want you to buy her stuff like that. I don’t want her to be like that where she expects you to get her gifts unannounced.” You tried to explain to him the reality of why buying someone under the age of two a bag like this was ridiculous. Yes, they’re investment pieces, you believed that, but what was she going to do with it? You felt the same way when your mom gifted her Judith Leiber.

“What? Like you…” He raised his eyebrows teasing you. He kissed you and slid his hands around you to hold your waist. You relaxed feeling his lips on yours. Forgetting what he was saying momentarily. 

“Funny.” You smiled in your kiss and rolled your eyes. 

“C’mon imagine how cute she’d look matching with her beautiful…” He kissed you again. “Sexy…” Then another kiss. “mummy.” You shook your head as you hid your face in the nape of his neck. “What you being shy for? What? Want me to stop flirting with you?” He laughed a little, cupping your cheeks. 

“You’re flirting with me?” You asked, playing innocent biting back the sly grin forming on your face. 

“Yeah… I’m flirting with you, baby.” He smiled back at you devastatingly beautiful, like always. You felt your heart flutter and your knees go a little weak. That face, that face would get you every single time. 

“I like when you flirt with me.” You admitted running your hands over his shoulders. 

“I'm always going to flirt with you." He cheekily squeezed you ass.

“You’re dumb.” You whispered back to him before pulling away. 

“And you’re beautiful.” He said before he turned back to Dianne and Teddy in her pram. “And you're absolutely perfect. What do you think? Dior? Should we go look, Ted?” He cooed picking her up. 

“I wasn’t ever going to win, was I.” You shut your eyes softly before turning to Dianne again. 

“No hun.” She left wrapping her arm around you as you trailed Trent following his beeline path to the shop. You browsed for quite awhile with a nice sales associate discussing what you wanted now embarrassingly on board with the purchase.

“Wait, this is really cute.” You said aloud.  

“Oh? I’m sorry I thought you didn’t want anything.” Trent teased you pitching your waist while he held Teddy. 

“Hush!” You told him to be quiet before you turned your attention back to the sales associate.” I feel like I don’t want to get her something too niche. Does that make sense? It should still be cute and girlie for her but I don't know.” You babbled on trying to make a decision you couldn’t decide. Trent gave you a smug teasing look. You swatted your hand at him then focused on the two different sizes of a bag the women had pulled out for you.  You landed on getting Teddy a micro Lady Dior and yourself a medium both in the same blue color you thought was good. It was good for all seasons which was always a good thing. You initially thought you wanted a pink shade but you were nervous it would maybe not be her vibe. You were still trying to sus out more and more of her personality. You did ask her though, holding two of the same bag in front of her, one blue, one pink and she pointed to the blue so that was also a driving factor. You checked out and left the store, shopping bags carried by Trent. “Can we say thank you, daddy?” you cooed with a cheesy smile and a soft giggle bouncing Teddy on your hip. Trent just kissed both your foreheads. 

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍

Next part - Chapter 18 xx

[nerdygaymormon]

Happy Pride

I want to wish a Happy Pride to:

Green Carnations

In 1892, Oscar Wilde had some of his friends wear a green carnation on their left lapels to the opening night of his show. An elegant and witty character in the play—who paralleled real-life Oscar Wilde—wore a carnation as part of his costume. Why green? It was an unnatural color for a carnation, Wilde chose this since it was said that homosexuality was unnatural. The green carnation became associated with Wilde and his flamboyant friends, and spread as a secret code to show others that you're gay.

"Be Gay, Do Crime"

The slogan "Be gay, do crime" has existed since at least 2011. The slogan suggests that crime and incivility may be necessary to earn equal rights given the criminalization of homosexuality around the world and a reminder that the Stonewall uprising was a riot. The slogan stands in contrast to the polished, corporate version of contemporary Pride, and shows that queerness has always been transgressive, regardless of its legal status. Part of being queer is being willing to push boundaries and protect one's self from the law since we have traditionally been attacked by it.

Peppermint Patty and Marcie

Peppermint Patty defied traditional gender norms. She played all sorts of sports at a time when it wasn't common for girls to do so. All the other female characters wore dresses, but Patty wears a t-shirt, shorts and sandals and the only other female character not to wear dresses is Marcie.

Peppermint Patty regularly flirts with Charlie Brown and has a strong bond with Marcie. While we don't know for sure, it certainly seems that Peppermint Patty is bi and her best friend Marcie is a lesbian.

I can imagine Peppermint Patty organizing the school's GSA or an all-inclusive dance, and loudly calling out any queerphobia. I like thinking of Patty getting a man's suit from a thrift store and going to Prom where she dances with both Marcie and Charlie Brown

Absolut Vodka

In 1979, Absolut entered the American market, but sales were slow. In 1981, Absolut starting targeting the LGBTQ consumer with the idea this group are trendsetters. Since 1981, Absolut has had print ads in queer magazines, sponsored events in gay bars, donated more than $40 million to queer charities and causes, sponsors the GLAAD Media Awards, and numerous major LGBTQ events in the US annually. Absolut has commissioned many openly gay artists to create ads, such as Andy Warhol, Nereyda Garcia Ferraz, David Spada, Keith Haring and Kenny Scharf. Supporting the queer community in 1981 was risky, but they have invested in the community and earned loyalty in return.

Pink Triangle

In the 1930s and 40s, just as Nazi Germany required Jews in the concentration camps to wear a yellow star of David, gay men, bi men, and trans women had to wear a downward-pointing triangle on their chest. The symbol was reclaimed in the 1970's by the queer liberation movement as a symbol against homophobia, and then was adopted widely by the LGBTQ community. The community took this symbol from the holocaust to show we are stronger than the worst done to us.

The pink triangle has largely been replaced by the rainbow Pride flag, and a reason for this is explaining why a pink triangle is the symbol of the community required an explanation of its dark past and therefore was about what others did to us rather than a symbol representing who we are and our hopes & aspirations. Although it isn't used much anymore, it's important to remember the pink triangle as the first widely-adopted visual symbol of the queer community

Ace & Aro Rings

Beginning in 2005, wearing a black ring on the middle finger of your right hand became a way for people to signify their asexuality. The material and design of the ring are not important as long as it is primarily black. It’s about carrying a reminder on our hands that there are others like us, and it's a way to identify each other. A white ring on the left hand of the middle finger is the aro equivalent.

Eyebrow Slits

Eyebrow slits was a trend in the hip hop community in the 1990's and called "eyebrow cuts." The trend fell out of style, but was brought back in the 2010's by some male artists and models as an edgy fashion statement. Lesbians quickly adopted this trend, perhaps as a way of showing they aren't beholden to gendered fashion rules, and it quickly grew in popularity on social media as a way for members of the queer community to express themselves and signal to each other. It seems natural that a fashion style containing an underlying rebelliousness appeals to a group who are marginalized by society. The eyebrow slit trend largely has faded except among the LGBTQ+ community, and so has become associated with us.

Nautical Star Tattoos

For centuries, sailors would get tattoos, often of images with symbolic meanings, such as the nautical star (which represents the North Star) which was believed to ensure a sailor’s safe return home. In the 1940s and 50s, lesbians were navigating the choppy waters of societal norms and expectations, and this five-pointed star tattoo became their compass, helping them find others like themselves. They'd get this tattoo on the inner wrist because it could be covered by a watch strap during the day, allowing women to hide their identity when necessary for their safety or professional lives, but could reveal it in safe spaces. This symbol was revived in the 1970's and is still used by some to this day.

Online "Am I Gay?" Quizzes

A common experience of people who are gay, bi, and pan, is they find an online quiz that will ask a few questions and then determine whether you are gay, or will reveal how gay you are (as though this can be graded like a school test). Sometimes the questions are lighthearted, while others try to be more serious. Here's the thing, more than any quiz results, searching for this type of quiz is probably the biggest indicator that a person experiences attraction to people of their same gender. It can be helpful for someone to have a "confirmation" of how they're feeling, and thus these "am I gay" quizzes will remain a rite of passage many.

Subaru

In the early 1990's, Subaru was struggling. Sales of their dependable but plain cars were in decline. Subaru knew teachers, healthcare professionals, IT professionals, and the outdoorsy types bought 1/2 their cars in America, and they targeted advertisements at those groups. Soon they realized there was yet another core group, lesbians were 4 times more likely than the average American to purchase a Subaru.

Subaru began printing advertisements that made subtle nods to lesbians in a way that slipped past the notice of other Americans, such as having the license plate "XENA LVR" on a car. Many ads had taglines with double meanings. "Get Out. And Stay Out" could refer to exploring the outdoors in a Subaru—or coming out as gay. "It’s Not a Choice. It’s the Way We’re Built" could refer to all Subarus coming with all-wheel-drive—or an LGBTQ identity.

Subaru noticed a group of customers and created ads for them, a group which often felt unwelcome and invisible. The campaign was so successful that it became a stereotype that lesbians drive Subarus, even leading to the word "Lesbaru." Polls show that the queer community views Subaru as the most queer-friendly brand.

[yourmamakira]

"FIGHTING WORDS" Carl Grimes, she/her

Set in the Alexzandria Era after Carl lost his eye. His very protective girlfriend overheard the local kids talking about Carl behind his back. and needless to say, no one had anything to say about Carl ever again. [ANGST, to SLIGHT FLUFF]

Carl has been in a coma for weeks. His girlfriend had never left his side after the incident. Her depression had gotten so bad it took Daryal, Glenn and Rick to hold her down to force her to eat and drink water.

Her mood had deteriorated drastically, she was more angry, she was less active, she never smiled anymore and she didn't know who to blame for what happened to Carl. She knew it wasn't right to Blame others for the accident. but she had nearly lost the one thing keeping her going in this Hell that used to be a world, she had every right to be upset.

she sat in the armchair next to the bed Carl lay in peacefully, she slipped between sleep and alert wake. She didn't even let the nurse come into the room to check on Carl unless absolutely necessary, and when anyone else was in beside her and Carl, her hand stayed on her and Carl's Gun that slept in her holster.

her eyes shot open and her hand bolted to her gun as the door to their room swung open. In walked the one and only Daryl Dixon, and for once he was without his crossbow. he walked in with his usual gruff demeanor and closed the door behind him.

The girl took her hand off her guns and crossed her arms as she returned to watching the sleeping Carl.

Darryl came over and sat in the seat opposite of her. he crossed his arms before speaking.

"You need to go outside. He ain't wakin' up any sooner with you watchin' him like a hawk. He ain't goin' nowhere, and you don't have to go that far. Jus' needs to get outta this room."

You glared at him through your hooded eyes. but inevitably he was right. carl had been like this for weeks and every second you watched him it felt like your body was slipping farther into a black hole.

Daryal then spoke again, "You need to be in your best health for when he wakes up. you need ta' take care of em', not him take care of you. how you gon take care of him like this?"

he had you stumped with his words. he was right, how were you going to take care of Carl and you couldn't even take care of yourself?

you let out a sigh and began to get up, he followed suit but then stopped you by holding out his hand. you huffed while rolling your eyes and took your guns out of your holster. he didn't know about the knife in your boot thank goodness, but knowing him he probably did.

you passed him up with a glare while leaving the house and strolling out into the street you hadn't seen in weeks. There wasn't much to do here. Besides the few teens that roamed, but you mainly kept to yourself and Carl.

you never really talked much these days, nothing worth talking about. Many thought you were mute at first meeting you, but that narrative quickly went out the window whenever you got too upset. Memory's of all the times someone had pissed you off to bad and you cussing up a storm regardless the person.

you walked the streets passing by people and not saying a word. You came up to a small bench and decided to take a seat and just take in the fresh air, you had to admit, it did feel nice on your skin to feel the breeze and not that stuffy old room that felt more like a prison rather a room.

a few minutes had passed and you had begun to get up being done with your reminiscence before you spotted a group of teens headed your way.

You despised these inhabitants of Alexandria greatly, and their children were even more unbearable. You started past them before one of them decided to take it upon himself to cat-called you, despite you clearly being madly in love with Carl, these specific group just love to torment you.

"Hey, Miss Mute! How about I show you what a real man looks like in bed while your one eyed freak of a boyfriend's out!" He and his friends cackled like hyenas while shoving him around, as if what he said was the greatest thing in the world.

you slowly spun around and sneered, you decided to brush off his remark of the incident, knowing nothing good would come out of beating his ass, "Your tiny shrimp dick doesn't even come close to a real man. My one eyed freak of a boyfriend at that." he stopped laughing and his gooneys ooed like kindergarteners.

He tilted his head to the side as he stepped closer then he should have. "The fuck did you just say to me, bitch?" You stepped closer to him and you could feel his stank breath up your nose, it made you want to vomit on the spot. But you continued to talk your shit.

"I said, you have a big ass head, and a small as Dick. Your breath also smells like walker ass. need I say more?" Your head tilted to the side and your eyebrows furrowed.

his face contorted into one of anger, he scoffed then chuckled dryly as if he thought a funny thought in his fucked up head.

He raised his hand and tried to touch your hair, but you moved your face and roughly grabbed his arm putting it behind his back so he couldn't move. you then put pressure on his back as he cried out loudly in pain.

"you ever touch me again, and I will fucking kill you!"you yelled out aggressively. You were not in the mood to be fucked with.

He couldn't even respond with words as he just continued to cry like a baby for anyone that would dare to help him.

His friends all backed up out of fear of being next. They started yelling at you to let him go but you didn't listen and continued to nearly break his arm.

He yelled louder as your pressure increased. Your face hot with anger that he even dared to touch you after making a nasty comment about your boyfriend.

You then heard yells of a few adults calling you name but you still didn't let up.

Then out of no where two pairs of strong arms grabbed your arms and you thrashed in their hold.

The boy you had previously had in a hold jumped up to his feet and held his arm in pain, "you crazy bitch! That bullet should have Killed Your boyfriend!"

He yelled out and suddenly your thrashing stopped, you looked up at him with a dark look and his face went cold. He knew he had fucked up.

You harshly ripped your arms away from your holders and ran up to the boy with a flying fist, it knocked him on the ground and you kept on punching. His face become black and blue and Messy with blood, your knuckles ached but you didn't care.

It took a total of four adults to pry you away from the nearly unconscious boy, but by then you had already lost all cool.

You stopped struggling in their hold and spit on the boy you had just beat to a pulp.

Your breathing was irratic and it became very clear to everyone that you were extremely unstable. You caught your breath and spoke down darkly to the boy who cried out in pain. He spotted you stepping one step closer and backed up out of fear.

"If you, or anyone else is this god dam town, ever speak bad about Carl ever again. Your gonna wish your sorry asses became walkers after i'm through with you! Do you FUCKING HEAR ME??"

The boy nodded vigorously as more and more people came over to stare at you with fear.

You yanked your arms away from the men and everyone backed up and cleared you a path as you turned around to go back to you and Carl's room.

You made it up there and slammed the door and began pacing back and forth. You were so Pumped with adrenaline that you didn't even notice the empty bed where Carl laid before.

The door swung open and in came a seething Daryl, followed by a worried Glenn and a Very Concerned Maggie.

Daryl came over to stand infront of you and you mean mugged him. He gave you a harsh push and you feel backwards into a chair.

Maggie and Glenn both Yelled but their cries went Unheard by the both of you. You death gripped the arm rests of the chair you sat in as you glared up at the yelling Man that had became your father figure over the course of this apocalypse.

"I told your ass to take a walk! Not Pumble some kids face in! Now That kids gonna need Stitches that we don't have Just because you couldn't control your Anger over some Dam words! Now I heard what them kids said to you, what they said about Carl. But what if That dam wanna be president decided to Kick you out because you beat up some kid they thought was innocent?! You don't think before you Hit! And we can't have that type of stupidity in this world! Get your fuckin' act together! Or you're gonna be in some deep fuckin' shit."

He left off with those words and left behind a shaking and teary eyed child on the Chair. Your leg bounced rapidly as tears fell from your eyes but no sound came out.

You didn't know any other way to let out what you were feeling besides violence. It was your only option given that Carl wasn't in a good shape to calm you down like he usually would.

You were unknowingly left alone in the room and that left you with your thoughts. You stood up and began throwing, kicking and breaking everything and anything in the room that could be thrown kicked or broken.

You continued until another voice entered the room, another voice you hadn't heard in a long time.

"Y/n..?"

You spun around and anyone could tell just by looking at you that you were not okay.

Your eye bags as eye bags, your hair was widely unkept, your knuckles bled from throwing things, hitting things and beating the shit out of kids and unsuspecting walkers. You shook with every breath you let out, and your voice was raw from yelling into your pillow with Sobs you couldn't control.

Carl Slowly made his way into the room as he carefully walked to you like you were Fine China. He stopped right in front of you and then suddenly encased your form.

You stood there for a few seconds, asking yourself in your loud head 'was this real?'

But as you felt the heat off his skin, the soft melancholy beat of his heart. And his soft But ragged breaths. You knew your boyfriend was real.

You slowly encased his body and you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your face. You began sobbing, wetting his shirt like it was raining from the clouds.

Your loud sobs shook the house that you both occupied but You didn't care. Your throat became dryer and dryer and you sobs grew raspy as you clutched Carl Closer to your body.

You were a broken record falling apart without the other half that was the love of you life. Carl rubbed your back and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

You continued to sob until you couldn't anymore. Your legs grew tired as your body grew heavy, you hadn't slept in days. And it was evident on your face.

His big hands cupped your face and used the pads of his thumb to wipe away any stray tears from your eyes, your hurt and abused soul seethed through your eyes and he could see what you had been going through with just a glance at your tear stained face.

He kissed your tears away with his chapped lips and your eyes fluttered closed. Your breathing leveled out after crying for hours in his shoulder. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bed.

He laid down in the spot he had been for weeks and you laid on top of him. You looked into eachothers eyes until you couldn't keep them open anymore.

The two of you fell asleep to the sounds of each others breathing.

You knew you would have to deal with the consequences of what you had done, but you could deal with them later.

Now? The two puzzles peices had finally clicked back together where they belonged, and as long as you had Carl. You didn't care what was next. As long as whatever it was, was beside him.

HIIII, this chapter is kinda sad, sadder then I usually write at least, and this had more reader then Carl so I'm sorry about that but I really hope you guys enjoyed this, and if you wanna see more of Mr grimes please request and I'll get back to you :3

[bestworstcase]

With your read on the character, what would it take for Salem to believe someone loves her? What would they need to do? Say? Prove? Would they have to prove anything? Genuinely interested in how you see that playing out

it’s complicated because i think her reasons for feeling unlovable are pretty complex—in contrast to cinder, whose fundamental problem is just that she’s never been treated well and consequently just can’t conceive of the possibility at all, salem Has experienced genuine unconditional love (from her daughters, from ozma in the beginning) so she has, at least, an idea of what that’s Like…

the problem is that a) ozma ripped the rug out from under her, b) she’s never stopped raking herself over the coals for what happened to the girls, and c) salem has also spent her whole life being someone else’s justification for killing people—her father executing people who were kind to her, then later murdering her would-be rescuers; the gods butchering the planet; ozma’s centuries-long crusade to get rid of her.

it’s overt in the text that salem blames herself for the divine massacre, she wouldn’t have been circumspect about the rebellion out of fear that ozma would reject her if she didn’t feel guilty and ashamed, and likewise her behavior in 6.4 suggests that salem considers her temper to be something dangerous that she needs to control, and the shot composition connects this to the moments before the duel with ozma, again implying that salem feels she is at fault for the deaths of her children. i will not be remotely surprised if in future volumes it turns out salem also believes that the blood her father spilled to punish or “protect” her is on her hands.

the point being that i don’t think there’s anyone on the planet who HATES SALEM as much as salem hates herself, and the locus of this self-loathing is guilt. we see this manifest in her treatment of cinder too—salem reacts to her own realization of how much she cares about cinder by being mean to cinder because, i think, deep down she sees herself as a danger to anyone who gets too close.

so i think for salem to accept that someone does or even could love her is less a question of what they’d need to do to prove it—she can tell when people lie, after all—than surmounting her immediate knee-jerk reaction, if she cares about them even a little, to make them stop. like, gestures at midnight, salem can bring herself to say things like “you deserve so much more than i’ve given you” to cinder only after . literally torturing her.

her belief that she’s unlovable arises from a deep conviction that she not only doesn’t deserve to be loved but is actively dangerous to love; so i think she could believe that the feeling is real, or at least that the other person thinks it’s real, fairly easily, but she’d see it as self-destructive and try anything she could think of to push it away or retreat from it if it refused to budge. & the key to getting through that is just patience and understanding, and also probably dealing with the very real existential threats reinforcing this feeling because it’s, frankly, not irrational for salem to feel this way as the lone survivor of a genocide that was explicitly committed by the gods to make her suffer. anyone she cares for and anyone who cares about her really is in danger of divine retribution, and that situation needs to end before salem can even begin to actually heal. so narratively it happens in tandem with the shift from fighting salem to confronting the god of light with salem.

[deerabigailhobbs]

I know I'm biased because I'm the number one Abigail defender but c'mon...

I already spoke about this on my twitter but their short character limit won't let me waffle. So I'm bringing this to Tumblr too.

Abigail never cared about anyone? Did we watch the same show? It's pretty obvious she cared about the girls her father killed. Nightmares where they haunted her, waking up in a cold sweat, it couldn't be more telling how guilty she felt. She broke down when she told Hannibal, that's not how a "psycho" acts.

This girl just wanted to survive and feel loved, even if that love was sick and twisted. That doesn't make her completely innocent, but it makes her complex. If she didn't do as her father said, he'd kill her, and worse, she wouldn't be able to feel his affection in death. She was messed up, not in a "bloodthirsty killer" way, in a "traumatised teenaged girl" way.

And I raise you this, since this user is adamant that Abigail never cared about anyone: who cared about Abigail? Truly cared about her? Not as a project or an idea, but as a person. I think the closest we got was Alana, but even then, all their interactions were strictly professional, and few and far in-between.

Hannibal wanted to mold her into something she wasn't, mainly for Will.

Will had his own version of who Abigail was while barely knowing her.

And literally everyone else was out to get her.

You can't exactly knock her down for the way she treated others (manipulating them, lying to them, etc). Everyone was a threat. And the one time, the one damn time she opens up to someone, embracing them while she breaks down about her crimes (because she was fragile. This girl was crying in half her bloody scenes, some of those being by herself) he killed her.

Tldr; bad Abigail take

[puthyflapps]

I have an intimate truth to share: I think Sunday would be a very cute name for a shoni baby who lives on a farm with her two moms. Sunday Shalifoe??? They could call her Sunny!! C’mon it writes itself!! And if she looked just like Shelby?? The material is there!! 😭😭😭

[kirkwallguy]

What class and romance interests are your Warden, Hawke and Inquisitor?

omg thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about them

warden: matila amell is a blood mage / failed arcane warrior (bad at holding a sword), morally she's very good but interpersonally she's blunt and everyone is SO scared of her. she romances leliana but it's not actually super serious so she breaks up with her in a letter like a week after they agree to go long distance. she was also a little bit in love with morrigan though and will never actually get over it.

hawke: marcus hawke is a warrior and reaver, he only gets one specialisation because neither of the other two really make sense for him. he's very abrasive and rude and rivals everyone except isabela and the mages; he and varric have this really weird relationship where varric is obviously in love with him and marcus is trying to ignore it. and ofc he romances anders and they run off into the sunset to have a surprisingly normal relationship after the explosion.

inquisitor: mary trevelyan is a rogue archer. i think she's also a tempest but the rogue specialisations are weird in inq. she romances cullen because her family are very religious and she pretty much always assumed she was going to have to marry someone templar-related anyway. playing her is the only way i can feel bad for cullen because he's SO nice to her and she's just not feeling it at all. she absolutely leaves him the second she disbands the inquisition. sorry cullen.

[abyssarts]

i've seen a misinterpretation of the caption on my dollhouse piece and like. i'm not upset about the misinterpretation but i do wanna clarify:

the "false sense of security" does not mean homura is intentionally causing harm to anyone (aside from the incubators). the world she created is fragile and was forged out of a desperation to protect those she loves, even if it means they'll all end up resenting her for her actions. any sense of normalcy or security they have while in homura's new world is literally false in that it's the result of memory manipulation, and the foundation of her world is on the brink of collapse at all times.

i fuckin love homura for all her flaws and bad decisions. i do not at all subscribe to the idea that she's evil in any sense of the word, but i also don't think she "had" to rewrite the universe in her own image, yknow? there were plenty of other ways she coulda protected madoka from the incubators' influence post-rebellion. the reason why she threw away her only chance at true happiness was because she had been pushed to her absolute limit during rebellion and was in no state of mind to be making good decisions

[skrunksthatwunk]

noooooo i can't go downstairs to get water bc i was singing real loud and i don't wanna face my family and theyre down thereeeeee in the living rooooooommmmm :((((

[roturo]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ OH! SO YOU'RE INTO OLDER MEN?

˚₊·➳❥ JJK MEN SHOWING YOU HOW A REAL MEN FUCKS! satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro ✧˚ · .

tags: afab!reader, reader is mentioned as a female, use of nicknames (baby, princess, doll, slut, whore), cheating, degradation, caught cheating, getting caught, unprotected sex, blowjob, pussy slapping, mating press, breeding, age-gaps, virginity loss [...] rbs are appreciated!

satoru gojo (Daddy’s girl)

well, that’s the word he used for the little girl you're babysitting right now. he’s a great dad and husband. there’s just this tiny whiny little thing he couldn’t do right– and that’s loving his wife as he should.

like– it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty, it’s just… well, you looked really cute in that mini dress, he and his wife have been fighting lately anddd– he could tell his daughter liked you more than her fatality of mother she has these days. she even called you mommy by accident once! and that was the last water drop gojo needed for the glass to break.

“Oh- I bet you’d love to be full of me right now.” His thrusts became messier each time he pounded on you, “Mhh, fill you up ‘n make me a daddy again– you’d like that princess?” you couldn’t even talk anymore with how good he’s making you feel– he had your legs pressed on the bed thanks to his arms, almost bending you in half, he was making sure that mating press works.

“Ffffuckk- You feel s’good baby” He felt your walls clenching again, no matter how many times he made you come, he’s making sure you’re coming again after he does. A not ending cycle for him. “Such a slut for me hm? Coming all nice and pretty to this house just to be ruined at night–” his words made you feel dirty, but the euphoria of it was stronger, “such” slap, “a nasty” slap, “slut” slap– “and all f’me” with those last thrusts your body couldn’t take it anymore, spasming and trembling while your poor hole was filled up again. gojo’s wife didn’t even bothered to break your little encounter, she suspected it long time ago.

all that was left was a wide grinning gojo satoru and some divorce papers.

suguru geto (Daddy’s best-friend)

you didn’t intend this to happen… you always knew your dad’s best-friend was hot. he’s geto, ‘cmon. he brings a new girl every weekend whispering in your dad’s ear swearing she’s the one this time.

he saw you grow up, turn into this beautiful and strong woman. so how he couldn’t love you? you were like a doll for him, so beautiful and radiant in every way. a porcelain doll he needed to protect, he couldn’t lose you to any dangerous or stupid man, he swears he would beat the shit out of the guy who breaks your heart first.

“Shhiiiitt– Heh– I can tell how tight your pussy is princess–” His cock was stretching the living shit out of you, touching places never in a thousand years you could imagine you would feel. “what d’ya think daddy would say if he saw his little girl being fucked by his best-friend huh?” your brain was a fuzzy mess, you couldn’t make coherent words to say, and just feel how good geto is making you feel. you couldn’t remember how many times he had made you cum with his toungue and he’s just starting to fuck your pussy.

“ ‘m such a lucky guy if i'm the first you’re giving this pussy to, don’t ya think so doll? marking it as mine, baby I swear you’ll need no man to ever fuck this pussy of yours again– shit I won’t need another woman for myself, you’re the one baby” those words filled your heart of a tingly feeling, making more butterflies roam around your tummy, touching yourself you could sense geto’s cock coming and leaving with every thrust, your brain full of air and in need of more of his cock.

he couldn’t resist himself anymore when he was next to you, his cock would get hard the minute he enters your house, and thankfully he has a pretty doll to release himself with.

kento nanami (Big Boss)

Nanami thinks he’s a good and mature guy– At least for his wife and kids… He has this aura of a serious and mature guy but inside every time he’s just this close to breaking it, just to say what he really thinks or feels.

the first time he saw you at work with your tiny skirts and tight blouses he didn’t mind any type of attention to it, you were another cute worker, that’s all. One of another– he can think other women are pretty too right? maybe even prettier than his wife… and nicer, and cuter, and more homely feeling to be a mom. but he wouldn't do anything he would later regret right?...

“You’re s’pretty baby, such a dirty whore for my cock mhm?” he had you pounding from behind, his desk becoming even messier than it was before, one of his hands keeping you laid down on the desk arching your back like if he’s trying to break it– a sudden ringing brought you back from your unconsciousness of nanami’s cock– he answered the call, not a single sing of him trying to stop thrusting into you.

“Yeah?” his voice was out of breath, almost sounding like a sigh when he answered the call, “Where am I? Huh– I’m at the office r-right now…?” he wasn’t even sure if he could keep this act, losing himself more in the feeling of your pussy clenching on his cock– “Oh yeah- I’m okay, uhh- the kids? yyeah, yeah, they’re with my mom right now–” the feeling of keeping up a call with his wife while fucking you made his cock twitch inside of you, feeling like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time. it was no surprise for him that his wife was cheating, but he wanted to keep it like that for the sanity of his kids. 

“Quit the act Kento– I know you’re fucking somebody else right now. See ya at home.”

toji fushiguro (Step-Daddy)

you hated when your mother started dating new guys. they just kept breaking her heart– but you just stopped telling her that it's okay to live without a partner, that she had you by her side, but well… this new man was something else i guess and you didn’t say anything for the sake of your own good mother.

you didn’t like him, but for the sake of your mother you pretended like you do– and let’s be honest, toji doesn’t like children, so when he first met you he wasn’t as social as others… your mom was just too good to simply let go– but the way you moved, talked, dressed caught his attention, and as time passes and he spends more time with your mom– he's no longer drawn to your house just to see your mother, but to see you. 

“Sshhiit- You’re making me feel s’good baby” the lack of air was making you feel giddy, but the way his cock twitched inside your mouth made your core get even wetter. “C’mon baby, ride my shoe,” you wasted no time before your hips started moving, trying to gain some friction and release that tingly feeling coming from your core. 

“D’ya think your mother would like to see her daughter being full of his step-daddy’s cum?” he gets one of his arms behind himself trying to gain some support while his other free hand caresses your cheeks while you continue sucking– this same hand moves out your head and frees his cock out of your mouth, a small strand of saliva connecting your mouth with it–

“Fuck– guess i choose the wrong out of you two”

[werewolfbneimitzvah]

vent post. There are two stories i was told in my teenage years that even before i had a real concept of trans issues made me uninterested in discussing the supposed sacredness and safety of separated sex-based spaces.

First, when i was like 13 or 14 my PE teacher told us about a time she went to a women's public restroom, some guy was hanging out outside the bathrooms, she didn't think anything of it, went to the bathroom, and he walked in after her and like, creeped on her over the top of the stall. She was ok, she wasn't telling us this to scare us, just telling us what to do in situations like that (and iirc she was telling the whole co-ed class this, not just girls, bc it's useful for everyone), but this taught me immediately and forever that there's nothing actually keeping these spaces separate really, that anyone can be a creep in any space, and that establishing a space like that as for women only isn't actually particularly useful for safety.

Second, when i was 16 i was at an anime convention, a friendly acquaintance of mine and i ended up in conversation outside, and he showed me his bare wrist and told me he'd been kicked out. A female friend of his had stepped in dog poop outside, and between that and the stress of the convention she'd had a bit of an emotional breakdown, so being her friend, he started comforting her and ushered her into the women's restroom so they could wash the poop off her shoe together. And because he was a man who went into the women's bathroom, he got kicked out, no matter that he was doing something that was actually beneficial to a woman. Punishing a woman's friend for supporting her was supposed to... protect her somehow? This made it clear to me that a no-exceptions rule separating the sexes like that wasn't actually inherently good for everyone.

And this isn't even getting into me as a child needing to accompany my younger sister to the restroom when we were out with just my dad because she had certain support needs past the age he felt comfortable bringing her into the men's room with him. And what if I'd been born a boy, or she'd been the first born? Who's helping her then?

And of course even putting all this aside, we should always prioritize compassion and support anyway. But i never even needed to meet a trans person to know that "keeping men out of women's bathrooms" is silly nonsense. But trans people also need to pee anyway and as humans they have that right, so leave them the fuck alone. your precious women's restroom is just a fucking room with a door, holy shit give it a fucking rest, if someone is attacking you in the bathroom that's bad and if someone is in there to pee that's good and it doesn't fucking matter what their junk is or was when they were born.

a woman could have done the exact same thing to my PE teacher and it would have also been bad no matter how "supposed" to be in the restroom she was, and no one should ever be punished for helping a crying friend wash their shoe.

Anyway i know I'm speaking to like-minded folks here, i just think about those two stories literally every time bathroom gender shit comes up and it pisses me off.

[ozymoron]

wheres that onr post thats like dont trust your brain after 9pm cause that was so fucking real when im tired and its past 9pm i get really anxious and my minds just like "its the end of the world im the worst person ever i should just die" like girl you're all tuckered out go to bed you'll be fine

[tender-rosiey]

1am thoughts, thinking about Gojo introducing kid Megumi to his newborn baby and Megumi being protective of them and even calling them his little sister/brother at one point and gojo is running LAPS he's just overwhelmed and happy over a small yet powerful phrase.

to protect — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this is so cute i am gonna cry also megumi is like 11-12 here

you’re finally back home, after a long day at the hospital. you’re finally engulfed in the comfort of your bed while your husband is still sat up with his little girl bundled in his arms.

he hasn’t let go of her since you have been discharged.

“’toru, honey, you have to sleep soon; you can hold her tomorrow,” you sleepily murmur to your husband.

he nods and whispers, “I know. It’s just I—I can’t believe it’s real,” he kisses her forehead softly, “that she is finally here, our little princess.”

a tired smile makes its way to your lips. you hum in understanding, gently caressing his cheek. he sighs happily, before looking at you, “but you, missy, actually need to rest. you’ve had a long day.”

you frown and he chuckles, and his hand moves to stroke your hair, “rest, pretty. you were a champion today,” you move to nuzzle closer to his side and your arm wraps around his torso.

and so his little girl is comfortably nestled in one of his arms, while the other is wrapped around you so his hand can pet your head lovingly.

satoru truly feels like he is holding the world in his hands right now.

suddenly, the door slowly creaks open and a very familiar face peaks from it. satoru chuckles, “come in, megumi; they’re both asleep anyway.”

the boy carefully pads his way to gojo.

he is so used to seeing him being all goofy and unserious, so it catches him a bit off-guard how serene and quiet he is being right now. megumi looks at the sleeping baby then whispers, “what’s her name?”

“d/n,” satoru answers fondly.

megumi nods then observes her for a small while, “she really is a perfect mix between the both of you.”

a soft and quiet laugh escapes satoru’s lips, “you’re right,” he looks up at megumi with a grin, “you wanna hold her?”

the boy is taken back and his expression betrays him as nervousness takes over his face. his eyes don’t leave the girl and his gaze is more than troubled, “…what if I hurt her?”

satoru shakes his head, “you scared? she is my daughter; she is the strongest baby ever,” he grins, “no one can hurt her.”

megumi rolls his eyes, but quickly directs his focus to the little girl. he takes a moment, before he extends his arms. satoru gently places her in his arms. megumi’s hold on her is protective, and he doesn’t look as awkward as satoru thought he would.

actually, he is quite the natural.

he gently rocks her, and he can’t help but smile at her sleeping face. megumi whispers to her, “hi there.”

she coos at him, and starts swaying his arms around. she slowly opens her eyes, and a tiny smile appears on her chubby face. megumi’s eyes widen a little, and he immediately looks at gojo, “she is smiling.”

satoru laughs, “she is a very smiley baby, but i think she likes you a lot. she only smiled at y/n and me,” he feels you stir a bit in your sleep.

he pulls you closer and rubs your shoulder then he giggles at how quickly you fall back asleep. while satoru is occupied by you, megumi is staring in awe at little miss gojo.

later, satoru wakes up in the middle of the night to check on his little girl in the adjacent room. he groggily gets up, after kissing your forehead. he walks there, and when he finally reaches the room, he notices the lights are already on, and the door is left a bit open.

he peaks a little into the room, and sees megumi standing by the crib. he is fondly looking at d/n, and gently petting her head. he is whispering something to her, but satoru is still able to hear it all the same.

“don’t grow up to be annoying like your dad, please.”

satoru scowls, and contemplates bursting into the room, and bullying the hell out of megumi. however, he ultimately decides against it. he doesn’t end up regretting the decision.

megumi gently boops her nose, “you’re like a little sister to me now, so I promise to protect you.”

she squeals and makes grabby hands at him, and he chuckles, “you believe me, huh?”

satoru slowly backs away from the door and walks away. when he is a safe distance from the door, he starts running and bursts into your shared room.

he dramatically falls to the ground, “that was… the cutest thing ever! after d/n and y/n’s smiles, of course.”

he stands up, proudly. his heart is at ease as he now knows that there is yet another person to look after his baby girl, if something happens. a content grin is on his face as he enjoys the silence and comfort. it’s short lived, as always.

a pillow is thrown at his face, and he stumbles to the ground.

“that’s for waking me up, satoru!”

“noooo, baby, I am sorry!”

“uh—,” megumi awkwardly stands at the door, holding d/n up, “guys, she pooped.”

satoru grins, and excitedly stands up—with a camera that he got out of nowhere to take photos of her—he coos, “aww! your first shit, pretty girl? what a good girl!”

megumi places her on the changing table beside your bed. the smell of her great ‘achievement’ fills the door, and he takes the chance of gojo being distracted to run out of the room, before another nuclear explosion drops.

the girl is gleefully clapping upon seeing her dad, and he reciprocates the smile tenfold. he gently holds her feet and sways them slightly, “such a big girl, already pooping!”

“want daddy to change your diapers for you?” he coos and the girl just puts her thumb in her mouth and starts kicking her feet. he chuckles and slowly opens the diaper. he is met with the vilest smell, and he can’t believe his sweet daughter can produce such smells.

however, he quickly composes himself, and tries to make his way through the travail of changing the diaper. he proves to be too weak because he, after a moment, looks at you, “uh, babe, teamwork makes the dream work?”

you groan, falling back to the bed.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[lewisvinga]

como no te voy a querer | jude bellingham x alonso! fem! reader

summary; when the princess of the paddock is dating the golden boy of real madrid but she happens to have a grid full of drivers who are very protective of her

fc; rita mota

warnings; cursing i think, suggestive comment

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3

note; saw fernando at the benrabeu at the semifinals and i had to…. BUT WE’RE GOING INTO THE UCL FINALLLL!!! A POR LA 15😭🤍🤍🤍 pls don’t mind the misspelt bernabéu in one of the tweets lollll

masterlist !

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liked by judebellingham, fernandoalo_official, and others !

yourusername: when in spain….

tagged; judebellingham

fernandoalo_official: siempre tan linda, mija😍 [always so pretty, my daughter]

yourusername: papáaaa🥹🥹

judebellingham: wowwwww

judebellingham: well aren’t you a lovely lady 🥴

yourusername: ur fine too i guess…🙄

yourusername: jk ur very fine 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

maxverstappen1: she’s a child.

yourusername: i’m 20????🤨

charles_leclerc: a child.

username: omg her sign for el clásico 😭what a queen tbh

username: y/n 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

username: jude can u fight? 🤔🤔

carlossainz55: pq estabas en españa sola??🤔 [why were you in spain alone]

yourusername: because i’m spanish and my bf lives here?🤔

fernandoalo_official: you’re with your boyfriend alone???

yourusername: no edu is always there 🙄

camavinga: 🤗🤗

judebellingham: edu😘😘

landonorris: and why are you flirting with someone else when u have a girlfriend ….

yourusername: oh like your bromance w carlos doesn’t exist !

username: nah the drivers comments are always so funny😭😭

yourusername: oh it’s torture, can’t even appreciate my sexy bf in peace 🙄

camavinga: OUR sexy bf😘

username: CAMA OH??😭

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liked by judebellingham, carmenmmundt, and others !

yourusername: i guess you could say i get my cuntiness from my dad xx

tagged; fernandoalo_official, georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, landonorris, judebellingham

location; miami 🌴

username: not her tagging jude on her lips 😭😭

username: me n who ong

fernandoalo_official: i’m cunty or whatever the hell it is you guys say

yourusername: tea 💅

username: THE CHEETAHHH PRINT😍

username: here before simp jude

judebellingham: wow.

judebellingham: just wow.

judebellingham: you are unbelievable 😍😍

yourusername: 💗💗💗💗

landonorris: STAND BACK 🤺🤺🤺

judebellingham: a lot of talking for a man who asked for my jersey🥱🥱🥱

yourusername: he got you there….

landonorris: okay fine… you win this time…

username: the alonsos are so cunty

username: PARTY NANDOOOO

username: i will never get over her n jude sawrry😖😫😖

maxverstappen1: well you better.

username: HUHHH???😀

charles_leclerc: stinky man around y/n, you’ll get over it

yourusername: you guys are sooooo…..

judebellingham: max is just mad abt el clásico score 😬😬

maxverstappen1: damn right.

carlossainz55: only time jude is tolerable 😁

yourusername: not very madridista of u carlos

judebellingham: yeah🙄🙄🙄

carlossainz55: y/n protector first sorry🫡

carmenmmundt: gorgeous gorgeous girl❤️❤️

yourusername: ily🥹

yourusername: also tell george to stop sending jude threats over instagram

georgerussell63: no.

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yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; going back home hungover 😬] [caption 2; morning 💗 judebellingham] [caption 3; date night fit 🤺] [caption 4; mi amor 🤍🤍 judebellingham]

judebellingham wow😍😍😍😍

judebellingham u single ??????

yourusername yeah:/// my bf has another bf:///

judebellingham HES MY BFF!!!!😖😖

yourusername cus why did cama see u in the showers almost naked after signing a new contract…..🤨🤨

judebellingham like you haven’t seen less🙄🙄

yourusername whyd u say that my dad saw and now’s he’s questioning me😭

yourusername he said why aren’t u preparing for the match 🙄

judebellingham ur dad is scary

judebellingham tell him the match is in 7 hours i still have chill time 🙄🙄

judebellingham DONT mention the rolling eyes emoji he is scary enough

yourusername fernando alonso??? scary??? a menace maybe,,,,🤣

yourusername good luck my love 💗 take it easy on the knee though!

judebellingham i’ll try, it’ll be a tough match:/

yourusername papa alonso said good luck too

judebellingham tell him i said tyvm😁😁😁

georgerussell63 why is he shirtless 🤨

yourusername you’re one to talk…

maxverstappen1 🤮🤮

yourusername ahhhh u madddddddd

yourusername la liga champion😛😛

maxverstappen1 i have 3 wdcs🙄🙄

yourusername and yet, real madrid won la liga!

maxverstappen1 tap in merchant 😒😒😒

yourusername ……

yourusername he scored a banger at el clasico i wouldn’t speak if i were u

maxverstappen1 😒😒😒😒

lewishamilton u should’ve been at the met 🙄

yourusername gf duties calls😞

charles_leclerc …..

charles_leclerc why is he around u naked🤔

yourusername bc he’s my bf????🤨

charles_leclerc why

yourusername bc i love him??

charles_leclerc but why

yourusername bye charles 🙄🙄🙄

charles_leclerc WHYYY

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liked by judebellingham, vinijr, and others !

yourusername: como no te voy a querer?🤍🤍 [how am i not going to love you?] congratulations on making it to the final, mi amor, te quiero mucho🤍🤍 [my love, i love you so much] and so so proud of you and the squad 🫶🫶

tagged; judebellingham, vinijr, lukamodric10

judebellingham: my lucky charm

judebellingham: i love you so much

judebellingham: te quiero 😍

yourusername: when he speaks spanish for you🥴🥴🥴

fernandoalo_official: so that’s why i can hear y/n giggling…

username: jude speaking in spanish for y/n, this is so sick

username: ME AND WHO😩😩

username: thank u y/n for blessing us w jude 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

username: can’t believe joselu scored a brace 😭

username: we gonna get a bellingol soon #trust

carlossainz55: A POR LA 15😍😍 hala madrid🤍

yourusername: now u wanna act fine w jude 🙄

carlossainz55: WHO CARES WE’RE IN THE FINAL!!!

maxverstappen1: I CARE!!! heja bvb or however it goes!!🙄🙄

oscarpiastri: you gotta respect max for keeping up the hater act icl

judebellingham: he sure hates a lot for someone who lost his win streak

maxverstappen1: hey watch it…

carlossainz55: can we get back to the fact real madrid is in the ucl final???🤍🎉🎉

judebellingham: yes😁

vinijr: Y/NNNNNNN HALA MADRIDDDDDD

yourusername: HALA MADRID NUESTO MOTM !!! [our motm/man of the match]

fernandoalo_official: good game, jude👍

judebellingham: omg thank you so much, sir! it means a lot!😊

camavinga: who are you and what did you to do my jude

aurelientchm: that’s not jude…🤣

rodrygogoes: ‘😊’

yourusername: well, he’s MY jude and he’s just scared of my dad🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: good.

landonorris: good.

lewishamilton: good.

maxverstappen1: good.

georgerussell63: good.

alex_albon: good.

judebellingham: oh! 😀

yourusername: don’t mind them🙄