#im keeping this in mind if i ever want to write crack

[alexanderhamiltonhasafatass]

Maria Eliza van den Heuvel x John Church Hamilton x John Payne Todd

I've only heard of Jackie and John Payne Todd. Not these three. But I feel like Jackie would get angry cause John watched Saw with their kids. Maria doesn't really care.

This ship is interesting??😭 I don't think Madison would appreciate it.

And tbh I think Jackie would hate the situation. Why is there some alcoholic gambler banging my wife and I every night

"Why does Charlotte have John Payne Todd's nose

[findmeinforks]

The Incident - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader

A little one shot that I just couldn't stop writing. A good angst to fluff (btw my fics will never be all angst, im too soft). Also do not fear, Im working on a Sam fic and part 3 to not letting you go. But you let ME know what you think of this one ❤️ 2K words

"My SISTER, Paul. She's my fucking SISTER!" you yelled, voice hoarse as your throat cracked.

"I could give a SHIT LESS WHAT SHE IS. YOU'RE. NOT. GOING." He screamed, jaw taut as he tried his best to subside the tremors that were threatening to take over his body.

You ignored the teeth he bared, shaking your head and scoffing.

"Aren't you tired of this?! I'm going over there. I HAVE to know she's safe."

"YOU SERIOUSLY THINK I'LL JUST SIT BY AND WATCH MY IMPRINT GO TO A PLACE WHERE I CAN'T PROTECT HER? WHAT ABOUT ME KNOWING THAT YOU'RE SAFE?? HUH?? YOU'RE SICK IF YOU THINK I WOULD BE OKAY WITH THIS!"

"Sick?!? SICK?!? LETS TALK ABOUT HOW 'SICK' IT IS THAT YOU WOULD WANT TO KILL HER AND THE BABY. THATS MY FAMILY PAUL!"

"AND WERE NOT?"

It had been like this for a week straight. Ever since the pack stormed through the door announcing their mission to kill Bella and the unborn child within her.

You felt as though your two families had been pinned against each other. Head spinning at the idea of there being a 'choice' between your sister and imprint.

On one hand you were desperate to make sure she was alright, but also exhausted at the never ending battle with your boyfriend.

Sure you had talked to Bella over the phone, but you didn't buy into the lies like your father had. Even though you knew significantly more than he did, she still attempted to downplay the situation. She had done this numerous times since getting thrown into the vampire world, but she could only keep you in the dark for so long before you unraveled the truth.

You had to see her. Even if it was the last time. By fate, or at the hands of the pack. You had to be there for her, as she would you.

Leaving your imprint though? Was at task challenging at best. On at least four different occasions you fought with Paul for so long that Emily and Sam had to intervene, prying you two apart at the pleads of other pack members.

Emily would console you while you ranted and Sam would make Paul run off his anger in the woods. When you faced him again, it turned into a rerun of the same argument. Nobody in the house had gotten sleep, and the things were progressively getting worse.

Quil came through the door, widening his eyes.

"Just a heads up everyone, a little comedic relief does not go over well. I saw my life flash before Paul's eyes." He huffed before sitting down.

"When is this going to be overrrr?" Embry whined. He shoved his head in his hands on the kitchen table while you and Paul went at it in the front yard.

Emily sighed.

"Unfortunately sooner than you think....Y/N packed her suitcase this morning." She said quietly.

"You're not really going to let her go over there are you?!?" Kim stood up, looking at both Emily and Sam.

"If you would like to stop her, please, be my guest." Sam motioned his hand to outside, where you and Paul could be seen through the window. You were throwing your arms up and pointing fingers at him, while his voice boomed loudly, towering his large frame over yours.

Kim winced.

You had always been the calm to Paul's raging storm. 'Made him all soft' as the guys would tease. None of them had actually seen you two disagree with each other. In the mind link they saw glimpses of minor arguments, most of the time being reconciled in the sheets..

Paul eventually got an order by Sam to think about something else while on patrol. 'Literally, anything else'.

"She's not going anywhere. I can count on my hand how many times they've been apart since he imprinted. They'll work it out eventually." Jared said as he pulled Kim on his lap, taking a hunk out of his apple.

Kim didn't share a look that she believed him, worriedly looking out to where you stood.

A few moments passed when her body stiffened and she gasped, making Jared look where she was.

"SHIT! SHIT!" He said, throwing Kim off his lap.

Sam turned to look out the window in time to see Paul phase, his sharp claw making contact with your skin. Your blood curdling scream instantly had everyone else off their seats, nearly knocking each other over to race outside.

You laid on the ground as your body wracked with sobs, clutching your side. Blood gushed through your hand as you started to panic, scrambling to stand. The large silver wolf only stood for a few moments before Paul shifted back, completely horrified as he frantically tried to reach you.

He felt his heart nearly rip out of his chest as you backpedaled into Emily, who was helping to hold you upright.

"NO! NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! IM DONE!" You cried.

Sam stood in the middle of the two of you.

Paul could feel his chest caving in, hand out, speaking more gently than he had at all in the past week.

"B-baby. Please. Please, I'm- I'm so sorry baby. Please let me just see-"

"NO! I'm done. I'm done. I'm leaving. I'm done." You repeated like a mantra, limping to the car.

"Y/N you cannot drive like this..." Emily attempted to say as she stepped in from behind you. She could see your anxiety was heightened, and afraid to set you off further.

"I have to go," you choked, on the verge of tears as you tried to open the drivers side. You had yet to even notice the gash in your side, adrenaline pumping wildly through your body.

Paul made his way around Sam, grabbing your other arm that was holding the door.

"You are crazy if you think I'm letting you leave like this. Please come-"

You yanked your arm from his grasp.

"Don't. Let me go!" You said coldly.

Paul froze. He couldn't move. You never spoke to him like this. Even in the numerous fights you two had this week.

Every single instinct in his body needed to help you. He knew you were downplaying your injuries. He knew he just royally fucked everything up. But the absolute last thing you could do was walk into a house full of vampires dripping in blood. Fucking doctor or not.

"Come inside and let me take a look at you, okay? Please." Emily said to coax you, frantically looking at your wound.

This made Sam follow her gaze, looking down to see the blood pouring from your side hadn't stopped, and you were growing paler by the minute.

"Y/N....you're going to stay here and I'll call Sue." He said in an authoritative voice, leaving no room to argue as he turned to start dialing the number.

You almost argued. You almost fought both of them on the subject. Your stubbornness almost won.

But you felt an immense pain. So strong you don't know how the hell you didn't notice it when you stood up.

That couldn't be good.

"....Y/N?" Paul said, barely above a whisper. Tears were now silently streaming down his face as he held both hands out slightly. Not close enough to touch you but to be prepared in case you fell.

You could feel yourself start to float in and out of consciousness. You tried to ground yourself by focusing on something. You looked at his hands that were outstretched.

Those hands that you held on your first date. The hands that hover your back anywhere you go. The hands that lift you up from the couch on movie nights to bring you to bed. The hands that move in just the right way when making love to you. The hands that were now shaking, not out of anger, but fear. You loved those hands.

"Y/N? Baby?" Paul said louder, more urgently as he could see you fading.

You watched him get blurry as the world started to spin.

"Paul," you murmured, before fading into darkness. The last thing you remember were the hands that caught you before you hit the ground.

"Y/N!!!" Paul screamed as he caught your body falling into him.

Sam ran back, telling him Sue was just up the street. He instructed Paul to carry you inside and onto the bed. The pack dispersed, each trying to find something to help you such as towels, an emergency kit and pillows.

Paul held you close as he lay you down, while repeatedly whispering in your ear.

"I'm so sorry baby. I'm so-so sorry. I cant lose you. Youre everything to me. I'll never yell at you again. I swear on my life. You can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want. Please, I love you." Paul pressed kisses to your hairline when Sue and her nurse friend entered.

Jared reluctantly came in behind them to lead Paul out of the room as they worked.

"Come on man, she'll wake up soon I promise."

After he was guided out, Paul slid down to sit on the other side of the door, refusing to move. Jared didn't push it, leaning down to sit next to him.

"Sue's seen this kind of stuff before. Just needs stitching up and stuff," Jared reassured as he put his hand on Paul's shoulder.

"It's not the injuries I'm worried about. So much as what she'll think of me when she wakes up. I....I fucked this one up, Jare."

"If Emily can forgive Sam, I think Y/N will forgive you. She's crazy about your ass."

Paul just nodded, praying he was right.

~

Your eyes fluttered open slowly as you woke. You looked around to see that you had been bandaged up along your left side, an IV attached to your arm sat close by. You attempted to sit up, whining when the pain wouldn't allow it. Within a few minutes Emily entered, her face showing relief.

"You're up! How are you feeling?" She checked the IV before sitting on the edge of the bed, careful of your body.

"Sore...where's, where's Paul?" Your heart ached as you started to replay what happened. There was no doubt in your mind what happened was an accident. You had seen the signs he always warned you about, and chose to ignore them in the heat of the argument. Not only that, but the look on his face when you had refused him was too much to bare.

Emily smiled, not expecting you to want to see him so soon.

"He's just outside the door. Hasn't moved. He didn't know if you'd want to see him..."

"I need to talk to him."

It hadn't even been a few seconds when Paul stood at the door. He looked more out of shape than you did. The disheveled hair and dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't slept in days.

"I'll give you two some space. Just holler if you need anything," Emily spoke as she stood up, making her way around him and down the stairs.

Paul remained where he stood,

"If you don't want to be with me I understand. I have no words for my actions other than I am so...." he cleared his throat, trying not to cry. "So incredibly sorry I put you through this. I put you in danger when I was trying to keep you out of it. You don't have to stay I-"

"Paul please just kiss me." You interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest as you already made up your mind in forgiving him.

He stood for just a moment longer, trying to comprehend if he heard you correctly. It was when you weakly opened your arms for him that he wasted no time in rushing over to you, cupping your face and gently yet passionately kissed you with everything he had. Tears flowed his cheeks at the relief that you still wanted him. Even after everything he had put you through.

You two pulled back for air after a moment, and you ran your hand through his hair.

"I forgive you, okay? I can't imagine my life without you."

He let out a breath, smiling for the first time in weeks.

"It will never happen again. I swear on my fucking life baby." He caressed your hair, neck, landing his palm on your heart.

You two sat like that for awhile. Almost scared to leave each other's presence. You two talked for hours on the bed. Paul had confessed that the night before, while you were sleeping, the pack had fought with the Cullens. You learned that Paul refused to go, not wanting to leave your side. You were grateful to hear that Sam didn't push on him being there, knowing you were all that mattered to him, and he'd refuse him if he had too. Even if it went against his every instinct as a wolf. Turns out that Jacob had imprinted on your niece, and Bella had survived, now as a vampire.

You weren't particularly thrilled your sister was now a bloodsucker, but as long as she was alive, you were happy.

Paul eventually made his way to the other side of the bed, kissing every exposed inch of you, whispering all the things he loved about you in your ear until you fell asleep.

When your heartbeat slowed down and he was sure you were out, he reached down and felt the velvet box in his pocket. No doubt in his mind about the future you both held.

[megumifuckmeguro]

JJK MEN (failing to) HOLD THEIR STRENGTH BACK DURING SEX

I write like a bot but Its the ultimate fic guys!!! thanks for all the interactions I’ve seen every single reblog and comment ahhh anyway its uh….kind of difficult to write about a state of mind without it sounding boring and conclusive, so i hope i did my idea justice lol ill be writing for geto suguru @huthaa 🥴 sukuna and nanami in part 2!!

I couldn’t write balls, its too funny

none of them used their raw power!!! They would never!!!!

Gojo Satoru

“Oh your my sweetheart aren’t you?” Gojo teases, his touches light and gently grazing, he taps his long thick cock on your pussy, his urethra leaking pre-cum on your clit as he smears it further with his cockhead, he may be teasing but you know he’s eager, “ugh fuck” he blurts out like he didn’t mean to, “i wanna fuck you like i’ve always want to” his demeanour shifts, he throws his head back glaring at the ceiling, hissing and puffing above you almost like he’s contemplating while absent-mindedly stimulating your hard clit and lips with his wet swollen urethra opening, pressing harder and harder, “i can take it Satoru, please please, fuck me how ever you like!” He looks down at your desperate body, bucking up at his cock and shaking for him to do something, anything, grinning he taunted “nah you cant” you glared at him almost betrayed, he glares back at you smirking, you were about to open you mouth when he suddenly plunges his hard cock deep into you, your cervix springs back and forth as you feel Gojo’s pubes and pelvis meet your entrance, his hips snap again, he enjoys the way your face contorts from innocent need to surprise and pleasure, “you crying yet sweetheart?” He rams into you again, and again, slap slap slap, his cock molding and stretching your insides as he pushes you into a mating press to reach even deeper, imprisoning you until you can make him cum in your pussy. His breaths are laboured, his thrusts are sporadic, indecisive, did he regret going full force on you? He fixates his eyes on you, reading you for any uncomfortablility, any sign of pain he’s causing you “ack yourgonna make me cum doll” his voice crack’s slightly, he looks down at you attempting to hold out his confidence and teasing with a grin but you feel his cock pulsate violently against your cervix, signalling that he’s close to release. “FUCK FUCK FUCK” he groans and strains while emptying his load deep in you, feeling the heat of his cum spread to your thighs and stomach, he pulls out slowly above you, a string of cum snaps between you both, “that was amazing Satoru, i told you i could take it!” You huff proudly, he looks at you almost trying not to laugh “i wasn’t even trying “

Choso Kamo

His hair unravels slowly, a hair tie slides down his back as half his hair dishevels into a long knotted mess, you grab onto it to keep it out of his face as he erratically moves in and out of you “im sorry, ack-fuck im so sorry, am I hurting you?” His attempt at checking up on you fails yet his tone is remorseful and pleading, pleading for you to be able to take him and let him give you everything he can. You can feel the bed shake aggressively underneath you, the lampshade on the bed side table vibrates in vigour, threatening to fall, as it does to Choso’s hard deep thrusts, it smashes on the floor darkening the room, it seems this was a wake up call for Choso as he pauses in slight shock, “was i too rough?” His deep voice softened with concern, he brings his large hand to your small cheek and caresses it softly, a sudden guilt pierces him as he slowly embraces you, his head placed gently on to your neck and chest, his breath tickles your hot skin as he mutters “I’m sorry my love, i don’t know how to control myself when I’m in these moments with you” you cradle his head in your arms and brush his hair slowly, you lift his head up and meet his eyes with love and understanding. That look alone made him cum inside you.

Toji Fushiguro

It was after-killing-a-sorcerer-sex Toji loved the most, he was always rough with you, but fucking you after he just got paid?

“Nah woman you would die like the monkey i just killed* he was usually callous and stoic during sex but in him you found the loving concern of self restraint, his gaze softened “yer gonna regret this doll” you continued staring into his merciless eyes, challenging him “heh” he huffed and smirked as he pushes your legs far apart to make space for himself, he slides his thick cock inside you slowly, you attempt to see it enter but he swiftly pushes your head back and pulls on your hair, he starts moving long and hard, taking his cock fully out and piercing it back into you over and over, quickly a ring of cum oozes between your pussy and his cock which he notices “your spilling yourself on me already sweet girl?” But he doesn’t stop nor slow down, his strong arms hold your legs into place, unable to move or squirm, suddenly he lifts you up from the bed and carries you by the legs, he spreads them once again and pushes his thick hard cock into you from below, you grip his broad shoulders tightly as he fucks you standing. He bites your shoulder lightly, but plunges his cock underneath, you feel so entirely full as you scratch and moan into his ear, you cum on his cock dripping down his length and dampening his pubes and the floor, yet he drags your lips up the head of his cock and slams you down again to meet testes. “You cum so easily but this is nothin doll” he continues slamming himself into you “you wanna see some real fuckin violence darlin? ill show you the corpse of the weak ass sorcerer i just killed once I’m done” he fucks you with his ego.

[libingan]

im still alive!!!! and i have prelims tomorrow!!!! i havent been able to write much because holy shit i kid you not im so fucking busy w college

and what sucks even more is that my stupid classes end around 6PM to 7PM and i live two hours away from my college

anw have some soft slow sex w simon x MALE! reader cuz i remember someone asking me to make more of them

simon rarely ever slept in, and you knew that all too well. so when he woke up two hours early, it wasn’t a surprise. what was a surprise was him dragging you into it.

you felt the bed shift as his weight adjusted, a familiar warmth pressing against your back. your eyes were still heavy with sleep, your mind hazy, when his arm slid around your waist, pulling you in.

“too early,” you grumbled, voice muffled by the pillow. your body instinctively leaned into his warmth, despite the protest. simon’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle, his lips brushing against the back of your neck, lazy and affectionate.

“five more minutes,” you muttered, eyes still shut, stubbornly trying to hold onto sleep. simon, of course, wasn’t having it.

“i’m already up, love,” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep. his hand started to roam, fingers lightly tracing the curve of your hip. “just wanted to see you before i leave.”

“you see me plenty,” you mumbled into the pillow, half-heartedly swatting at his hand as his fingers slipped under your shirt. he just smirked against your skin, his lips ghosting over the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine despite your best efforts to remain annoyed.

“don’t think you’re really appreciating the moment.” his voice was low, teasing, but with that soft, lazy tone that always managed to pull you in no matter how grumpy you were.

you huffed, finally cracking one eye open. “appreciate it later. some of us still need sleep,” you said, your voice laced with mock irritation. but simon knew you well enough to catch the underlying fondness, even when you tried to hide it.

his response was a quiet hum as he pulled you closer, spooning you fully now. his hand wandered under your shirt, tracing slow circles over your stomach, sending a warmth through you that was impossible to ignore. “just a few minutes,” he muttered, lips grazing the shell of your ear, voice a deep rumble that made it harder to stay irritated.

“you're relentless,” you sighed, though your body was already giving in, your muscles relaxing under his touch. you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his slow, steady breathing grounding you in the moment. despite your grumpiness, you leaned into him.

“only with you,” he murmured. his lips found your neck again, kissing along your skin with deliberate slowness. his hand roamed lower, teasing at the waistband of your pants, fingers brushing just under the fabric.

“simon…” your voice trailed off, not quite a warning, but more an acknowledgment that you were awake now—really awake—and aware of where this was headed. he didn’t respond with words, just pressed another kiss to your neck, this one slower, more lingering, as his hand slid lower, fingers tracing down your thigh.

you groaned, half in frustration, half in surrender. “you really wake me up for this?”

“couldn’t resist,” he muttered against your skin, his breath hot against your neck. his hand moved deliberately now, slow and teasing, as if he had all the time in the world, and you could feel his smirk even though you couldn’t see his face.

simon’s movements were always slow, deliberate—something that you’d typically enjoy. but not now. not when it was this early, and all you wanted was either more sleep or for him to speed up and get it over with. instead, he was dragging it out, teasing you like he had all the time in the world.

his hand was moving torturously slow along your length, the pressure just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to push you over. you bit back a frustrated groan, trying to twist out of his grip to get more friction, but simon only chuckled, tightening his hold around your waist.

“simon, for fuck’s sake—” you muttered, voice thick with sleep and need, the irritation clear in your tone. his lips were still pressed to your neck, warm and lingering, as if he hadn’t just woken you up far too early for this.

“patience,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough, the gravelly sound sending shivers down your spine. his hand continued its lazy pace, teasing the tip of your cock before sliding back down, all while his hips pressed flush against your ass, his own arousal evident but untouched.

you groaned, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “you know I don’t have patience for this right now,” you grumbled, pushing back against him in an attempt to get him to move faster, but simon’s hand gripped your hip, holding you in place.

“always so eager,” he teased, his voice a soft rumble in your ear. “we’ve got time.”

“you’ve got time,” you corrected, your voice sharp with frustration, though you couldn’t deny the heat spreading through your body with every slow stroke of his hand. your hips twitched involuntarily, a needy whine escaping your throat before you could stop it. “just—can’t you go faster?”

he smirked against your neck, clearly enjoying this more than he should. “you’ll get there,” he said softly, his hand still moving in those maddeningly slow strokes that had you both infuriated and aroused beyond belief. his lips ghosted over your shoulder, pressing soft, lingering kisses that did nothing to ease your mounting frustration.

“simon,” you groaned again, your voice breaking slightly as his thumb brushed over the head of your cock, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. your breath hitched, your hips jerking into his hand, but he still didn’t pick up the pace. instead, he hummed, his other hand splaying across your stomach to keep you pinned to him.

“you’re always in such a rush,” he murmured, his tone still calm and teasing as if he wasn’t driving you insane. “thought you liked it when I took my time.”

“not—” you cut yourself off, biting back a frustrated moan as his grip tightened just enough to make you see stars. “not when you’re this fucking slow.”

simon’s low chuckle reverberated through your chest, the sound vibrating against your back as he pressed closer, his own arousal now impossible to ignore. “thought you liked to savor it,” he said, his voice teasing but dark, that commanding edge to his tone making your skin tingle.

you groaned, a mix of frustration and desire curling in your gut. “just—fucking hell, simon—speed up.” your voice was rough, strained with the need that had been building steadily since he woke you up.

instead of speeding up, simon's touch slowed as his hand moved lower, slipping between your thighs, teasing with light strokes along the sensitive skin there. you could feel the heat from him, the way his breath caught slightly, his restraint just barely hanging on. it only made your need more urgent.

"quit messing around," you muttered, shifting back against him, trying to signal that you needed more than his teasing touches. "i’m awake now, so stop dragging this out."

his deep chuckle vibrated against your back, but he obeyed, pulling your hips back just enough to press his own forward, letting you feel the solid length of him, hot and firm against your ass. the anticipation built as his free hand skimmed your waist, fingers brushing along your skin with a slow deliberation that made your frustration mount.

“you’re too impatient,” he murmured, his voice rough and low in your ear, but you didn’t care. you were already on edge, and the way his cock slid between your cheeks, teasing but not entering, was driving you insane.

"you started this," you snapped back, trying to push against him, seeking that familiar stretch, the feeling of him inside. but simon was always patient, always methodical, even when you were grumbling and begging for more. his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he pulled back, his movements still slow, still infuriatingly measured.

then, with one swift motion, you felt the tip of him press against you, pushing past the resistance with just enough force to make your breath hitch. you moaned quietly, the sensation of him stretching you open sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. simon paused, giving you a moment to adjust, his hand still resting on your waist, steady and comforting.

"there," he muttered, his voice low, almost a growl as he shifted his hips, pushing in deeper, filling you inch by inch. the stretch was slow but intense, your body instinctively tensing before relaxing, the pleasure beginning to mix with the slight burn of his size. simon’s lips ghosted over your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed all the way in, his chest flush against your back.

"fuck," you breathed, eyes squeezing shut as the sensation overwhelmed you for a moment. simon stayed still, giving you time to catch your breath, his grip on your hips firm but not restrictive, keeping you close to him.

he began to move, slowly at first, pulling out just enough before pushing back in with deliberate slowness, each stroke dragging a low moan from your throat. the pressure and friction built with every movement, the heat between you growing more intense as his rhythm gradually picked up, but still not fast enough for your liking.

"goddammit, simon," you muttered through clenched teeth, your frustration only mounting with every excruciatingly slow thrust. "can’t you go any faster?"

his deep laugh filled the quiet room, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. "always in a rush," he teased, his hips pulling back before snapping forward just a little harder this time, drawing a louder gasp from you. "thought you liked it when I took my time with you."

"not at—" you started, but your complaint was cut off by a moan as he shifted his angle, hitting just the right spot inside you. your back arched instinctively, pressing further into him, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as the pleasure began to overtake any remaining irritation.

"there we go," simon murmured, his hand moving from your waist to slip under your shirt, his palm warm against your chest as he held you tight, his hips finally picking up a steady, relentless pace. each thrust was deeper now, more precise, each movement drawing you closer to the edge.

you couldn’t hold back the sounds spilling from your lips, your body moving in sync with his, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with every thrust as the pressure built inside you, pushing you closer to your breaking point.

"simon—" you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper as your body tensed, every muscle coiled tight, the pleasure teetering on the edge of too much.

"i know," he muttered, his grip tightening as he thrust harder, his cock filling you completely, his pace relentless now. "almost there."

his words sent you spiraling, your body finally giving in as you came hard, your release hitting you with a force that left you breathless, trembling in his arms. simon didn’t stop, riding out your orgasm with slow, deep thrusts, drawing out the pleasure until you were spent, collapsing against the bed, your body shaking with aftershocks.

simon wasn’t far behind, his pace quickening for just a few moments before he groaned softly, his hips stuttering as he came, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with warmth. his grip on your waist softened as he rode out his release, his breath heavy in your ear, his chest rising and falling against your back.

for a few moments, neither of you moved, the only sound in the room your ragged breathing as you came down from the high. simon’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, his lips brushing the side of your neck in soft, lazy kisses as the intensity of the moment slowly faded.

"took you long enough," you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words, the satisfaction in your voice clear.

simon chuckled softly, his hand trailing down your side in a slow, soothing motion. "you seemed to enjoy it," he teased, his tone light and affectionate as he settled into the bed, still holding you close.

"maybe," you admitted with a small smile, closing your eyes as you finally allowed yourself to relax, your body still warm and buzzing from the afterglow.

"good," simon whispered, his voice soft, his lips pressing one last kiss to your shoulder before he tucked his head into the crook of your neck, his arms holding you securely as sleep finally began to creep back in.

[downtwngrl]

INTRICATE.

hi so it’s been a WHILE. uhhhh rewatched challengers for the thousandth time and it broke me out of my writers block! i don’t know how im going to continue w this, so feel free to drop any ideas and ill add it to the lore 😈 note: series prob isn’t gonna end with any smut scene bc im incapable of writing one without it sounding stupid asf! but who knows, you might be surprised

cw: 1.4k words,,, art and reader are dating but fighting, set in stanford era, tashi is NOT injured, patashi, hints of reader crushing on tashi but repressing it, fighting, tensiontensionTENSION! basically everyone is friends with one another but they all want each other BAD. lmk what else i should add :)

“it’s complicated.” that’s what you say every time someone asks you what your relationship with art donaldson is. and it’s true— you guys are fiery, but not explosive. complex, but not convoluted. it’s just… strange. intricate. hence, complicated.

you think he’d probably say the same thing, but there’s no real way to know, since you can’t exactly ask. the two of you aren’t on speaking terms right now, and for the same reason you two stopped talking last time, and the time before that.

art donaldson can’t split his time between his girlfriend and his fucking best friend’s girlfriend. and you can recite the argument quite well, maybe even word for word; it’s still fresh in your mind, engraved there.

“c’mon, you can’t just keep ditching me for her. it’s annoying, and it hasn’t just happened once or twice, you know.”

“i know.” art sighed, a hand tangled in his hair as if to ground himself. your name fell from his lips, voice cracking midway. “what do you want me to do? she needed help with her physics homework.”

“she can get one of her fucking groupies to help her! she’s a big girl, she doesn’t need to rely on you.” the way you said it, mocking and condescending, was mean, and you know it. you don’t hate tashi— you can’t even bring yourself to dislike her. but it hurts every single time you text art on your motorola and get hit back with some half-assed variation of ‘helping tashi. sry :( i’ll come later.’ he never actually shows up at ‘later’, which only rubs salt in the wound.

art’s jaw ticked. his eyebrows furrowed and eyes darkened in a way you’d only seen once before, when someone was talking shit about tashi in the cafeteria. you had watched as she calmly reassured art that is was fine, that he needed to relax, but he only shook his head and clenched his fists. in that moment, you wondered if he ever got that angry if he overheard someone talking about you. you now doubt it.

“don’t talk about her like that.” he said it calmly, but your skin still prickled. “she’s an accomplished lady. what about you? what have you done?”

if you sounded condescending before, it was nothing compared to how he sounded then. you scoffed away the sinking feeling in your stomach, blinked back the sting in your eyes. there was a lot you could have said to him then: ‘i might not be half as good at tennis as she is, but that’s less embarrassing than being second-best to her boyfriend.’ or ‘i didn’t compete for her number and lose.’ hell, even a good ‘fuck you’ would have sufficed.

instead, you just stood there, frozen, as he grabbed his stanford sweatshirt and left.

when you tell the story to patrick, he laughs, and doesn’t stop laughing until you jab him with your elbow, effectively knocking the oxygen out of him. his hands raise in mock surrender before speaking. “sorry, it’s just funny to see him get like this, i guess.”

you frown. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i mean that he likes you, but he likes tashi. i know it, tashi knows it, and from what i heard on the walk here—” he gestures vaguely towards the door to your dorm, “—the school knows it, too. i dunno, i guess it’s amusing ‘cause art has never been so disturbed about this kind of shit. usually he just picks the girl he likes best, but he can’t.”

“you mean he can’t because you’re dating her.”

patrick smirks his signature smirk. you have the urge to punch his teeth out; vagueness is beginning to be a pet peeve of yours. “no, i’ve told him that tashi is free reign.”

the way your stomach flutters at that is shameful. you push the feeling away. “like, you guys aren’t..?”

patrick shrugs. “i mean, currently she hates me because i said i’d go to her match yesterday and i missed it.” these guys really need to stop promising us stuff, you think. “but yeah, when she isn’t pissed off, we’re dating, and we talk about it. ‘bout you guys. she doesn’t really care if the two of you make moves on either one of us.”

you don’t say anything, but your ears feel warm, and your heart is about to explode out of your chest. it doesn’t help when patrick takes that as a sign to keep talking and says—

“i don’t care either.” it suddenly hits you, the closeness between you and him. close enough that you can smell his cologne, one typical of a rich frat boy you’d pass by in the halls. but it feels different, with him. patrick’s smirk has shifted into a grin, a big one. you realize he’s been gauging your reaction, and is thoroughly pleased.

“oh,” you breathe. he snickers, repeats it back playfully. you don’t understand how he’s so relaxed, able to make light-hearted jabs in this moment. art likes you and tashi. tashi doesn’t care if he likes her, or if you like her. patrick doesn’t either. but where do you stand in this?

your phone jingles, the sound muffled from the blood roaring in your ears. you don’t know if you should thank or curse out whoever decided to call you at this second, but you excuse yourself to answer. patrick nods begrudgingly, backs up enough for you to have room to finally start to inhale and exhale again. “hello?”

“hey.” it’s art on the phone. impulsively, you look around, as if he’s hiding somewhere in the dorm he marched out of a few days ago.

holy fuck. “hey!” you sound too cheery to your own ears, and hope that over the line it sounds more convincing. you hear a sigh on the other end, and can imagine art physically loosen. “what, uh— i thought you were mad. at me.”

patrick perks up. ‘art?’ he mouths, and you nod. he attempts to come closer, but you swat at him, moving a few steps away. he pulls a face, but doesn’t move closer. still, he’s definitely trying to hear what art is saying.

“i was.” art laughs nervously, the sound tinny over the phone. “but you’re right. i fucked up. tashi… she isn’t my girl. i need to pay more attention to you, and that’s gonna happen starting now.”

she isn’t my girl. “she could be,” you think aloud. you tense. art chokes. patrick stifles a laugh.

“what?” you pray that he didn’t hear it. you had mumbled it, whispered it, there’s a chance it didn’t pick up. art says your name one, two, three times before you respond.

“sorry, i just zoned out a little.”

“no, you said something. baby, what’d you say?”

“i said ‘you should be’. like, you should be paying more attention, dumb joke, i was trying to sound threatening,” you slap your free hand against your lips to stop your word vomit, then your forehead as you reprimand yourself for acting so stupid.

art hums. “oh, okay.” it should relieve some on the tension in your shoulders, but it doesn’t. he usually laughs when you fluster, but he didn’t. is he unconvinced, or are you overthinking? “hey, tomorrow can you come to my practice at noon? we can go to the cafeteria after, i’ve got wayyy too many meal credits.”

you look to patrick for help, but he shrugs, enjoying the moment. “sure.”

art says his goodbyes, goes ‘mwah!’ through the phone (which usually makes you laugh, but now you feel bad), and once you say bye, he hangs up.

“i’ll go to his practice, too.” it’s never a question with patrick (or with tashi); he just lets you know. “tashi’ll be there. she’s always on the court when she’s free.” you find it endearing that he knows her schedule.

“tashi.” you like the way her name rolls off your tongue, but you’d rather die than admit it.

before you can say anything else, patrick walks over, swings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. “don’t forget about what i said.” his breath smells like spearmint gum, the type art is always chewing. maybe he gave him a piece. “just think on it, yeah?”

you nod, and he pats your cheek before walking out the door, leaving you feeling dazed. after a few moments of just laying on your bed, soaking in the conversation you just had, your phone dings.

we’ll see u tmrw :-) -pat (&tash)

[breedbun]

i want to strangle him.

warnings; possessiveness, obsession, not much more

desc; i cooked but im too damn lazy to actually write the sex part. lmk if y'all want the sex part later im too lazy :(

notes; im so gonna write howl, kaeya, and kaeya as howl fanfics after this istfg

"Did you really think you'd get away with this, comrade?" Tartaglia breathed down your neck, clutching your waist tight with his fingers digging into your skin. He's clearly angry, hostile, aggressive. And you know exactly why.

Getting used to the quiet, cold atmosphere of Snezhnaya when Tartaglia brought you all the way to his nation for a little public meeting between the Harbingers was an interesting time. Between watching Tartaglia eye you shamelessly, buy you endless amounts of lingerie and appealing clothing, you were also the subject of a few other of his colleagues.

Take Columbina, for example. She was teaching you the principles and needlework of sewing. Even if most Harbingers were absolutely insane and out of their minds, it's safe to say that some of them, too had.. normal hobbies. Whilst you accidentally pricked your finger with a needle, Tartaglia was just about to rush to your side and save you like he should as your prince charming, however.. Columbina takes the opportunity far too cheerfully. Gently holding your hand like a mother to her child, she'd lick your ever so small wound and taste your blood. You were just bewildered and you couldn't help but do anything except freeze up.. as usual.

The other day, Pantalone overheard your ranting to your dearest Tartaglia, words spilling out your mouth as if you had been holding these words in forever. What you endlessly and very passionately spoke about, was a rare flower that grew with gems growing naturally from the inside as it's nectar hardened. The flower's crystalline gem only lasted about 4 hours, before it'd start to mould and decay into nothing worth more than a speck of dirt. What did Pantalone do? Of course, since your beauty caught his eye, he had gladly offered this one of a kind, magnificent flora in amber, as it was preserved to keep the gem beautiful and shiny forever. As gorgeous, as unique and rare as the flowering diamond was, it wouldn't ever match up to your glowing self. To buy this, and see a smile crack from your face, would be the most utterly satisfying thing Pantalone could ever ask for. Delivering it in an exquisitely expensive jar, your little heart nearly burst out your chest, you even made a little jump and a squeak as Pantalone so kindly handed the precious treasure over to you.

Tartaglia had still been looking for that exact same flower, for you.. yet, he stood by a corner, silently glaring with blazing fury in his eyes. It was more than obvious, just how much the other Harbingers absolutely loved to see that envious look of possessive, unhealthy jealousy on Tartaglia's face. It was beyond amusing, his nose wrinkling, the way he'd barely be able to keep a poker face, the way he wanted oh so badly to rip them to pieces, yet he could never. Not when it'd risk not just him, his family, but you too.

Other small things, such as Dottore's disgustingly gruesome humour through presenting you with a clean, white, and very much real human heart in a special pink box.. that moment when Pierro had held your wrist in his large hand much too easily, kissing the back of your knuckles as a pink blush crept up your face.. when Arlecchino got the absolute nerve to invite you to be the House of The Hearth's "mother" as a male, to be her "wife" as a male, "jokingly".. when Sandrone deliberately called you a work of art, and she'd love to dissect—Pulcinella's special treatment with you!— He had absolutely ENOUGH. If he couldn't teach them a lesson, he'll just have to fuck it into you, then maybe your cute squishy pout can convince all of them to stop.

Maybe they'll find how envious Tartaglia was, knowing that they could flirt and pull moves on you all they wanted, but he was the one you would ALWAYS pick in a room full of their bunch. He was the one you stayed faithful to, he is the one you WILL marry, he is the one who will have children with you. He is the one you love. He is the one you will never forget. He will make sure of that.

@breedbun

[livelaughlovesubs]

hellooo, i love your writing but im not used to sending asks so forgive me if anything is said poorly or if i do it wrong somehow, but i was curious if your up for writing obey me characters still?

if you are, could i request just ravaging asmo, like to the point where hes crying and not forming coherent sentences, and then just completely switching up after and giving super sweet aftercare? this is sort of inspired by the dazai aftercare post except i want the smut lmao

feel free to refuse or completely ignore this request if you dont feel up to it!

also could i be 🫶 anon? i looked through your anon list and im pretty sure that ones not taken!

remember to take care of yourself and take your time! i hope you're doing well! :)

-🫶

Hello hello~ don’t worry, you are doing great :] Also this will be my first time writing for obey me, bear with me alright? (I only got to chapter/ lesson 22 when I used to play it)

Dom!reader x sub!Asmodeus - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (I use dick), hair pulling, marks, mind break, overstimulation, multiple rounds, a little exhibition?

Creaking sounds lingered around your ears, alongside the breathy moans of the male underneath you. These heavenly noises bounced off the walls, loud enough to seep through the cracks of the door. You were almost worried that other people would hear him, it would be pretty embarrassing at breakfast tomorrow. Though, asmo certainly wouldn’t mind, he’d even brag and show off his hickeys to everyone. How did you know? Because if he had any ounce of shame, he wouldn’t be screaming his lungs out like this. No one can tell you this little slut here doesn’t want his brothers to know he was getting used like a fleshlight.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment and slowing down, gathering some energy. What time was it, how long have you two been going at it? The stamina of a demon really was scary, to think he was still able to stay awake after was felt like an eternity. He was exhausted too, but he still wanted to keep going. “Haha..” you chuckled as you gazed at his messy face, smiling in amusement at the lewd display in front of you. Asmo was such a charming man, his hair had an indescribable colour that was unique to none other than him. Truly a marvellous gift from god himself. And now, it was sticking to his forehead, all wet due to the layer of sweat covering his skin.

His angelic face was fated to be his weapon for temptation, such a beauty was truly irresistible, befitting of his title as the avatar of lust. Those gorgeous golden eyes were shining like stars, lightening up each time you trusted deep inside him. You almost felt guilty, for defiling that innocent appearance of his. The saying of ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ was like tailored for him, for this devil with the most saint-like appearance you’ve ever came across. Everything he did was erotic and inviting, causing you to want to ruin him more. Until any traces of that natural pureness he had were wiped away by lust.

“AaahhGg~..! Oh, y/n, right thereeee mhHmm!!” Asmodeus moaned out your name, his voice sweet and coated with honey. His back was facing you, and he arched his body into a crescent shape. Hips and ass high in the air, while his face was being pushed into the very pillow he was hugging. One of your hands were tangled in his rose-tainted hair, switching up from stroking his locks to yanking on them whenever you saw fit. Each time you’d rough him up, he’d whimper shamelessly, grinning from ear to ear as he shakes his butt for you.

He was so beautiful right now. So very stunning. That once cheeky face now all decorated with tears and drool, all blushy like a maiden fresh in love. His eyes rolled back sometimes, as well as him sticking his tongue out and trembling in pleasure. Despite the impaling realisation that he would pass out if this continued any longer, he didn’t yield, only begging you to give him more. Who were you to deny your darlings wishes? You wanted to give him everything he wanted, even if it will cause him back pain for the days to come.

The other hand was on his hips, helping him holding his body up to meet your trusts. Your pace was a steady one, but pretty slow. That’s because your body was sore as well from pounding him for hours. Asmo didn’t mind it, because you were still so good at it, even if you were tired. Every time you drove your length inside him, it hit his abused and used prostate with such accuracy that he can’t help but cry out in bliss. “AhhNnGg! Harder~ ooOOhhH!!” His hole was all red and swollen, it was so puffy, yet he was still able to clench around you. You could feel his insides squeezing your dick, not letting you pull it out of him.

“Such a dirty boy, how did you survive so long without me?” You teased, pulling on his hair suddenly, ending with him throwing his head back with a yelp. “AhH! i- heh, I guess I wasn’t re-really living mHmm~ before meeting you then.” The demon answered, still capable of smiling at you, even if the said smile looked like the dumb grin of a cheap prostitute. “My my, your choice of words are still as romantic as ever. Can you handle another round, asmo?” His dick twitched at your words, leaking some more precum onto the puddle of semen beneath him. “HnGg, of co-course..! Ahh~ y/n, fuck me <3”

A smirk spread on your lips, and you let go of his light brown hair. Instead, you used both hands to hold his waist tightly, enough for it to bruise. “Then I won’t hold myself back.” You said, as a kind of warning. Asmo looked over his shoulder and your eyes met, the desire in his pupils were evident on his body as well as in your eyes. Another giggle slipped from your lips before you moved backwards, then snapping your hips against his in a fast pace. “AhGGhhH! Mo-moRRe!!” While the devil groaned out a series of encouragements for you to continue rutting into him like some beast, he could feel another orgasm approaching. His stomach curled so intensely, and electricity was coursing through his body.

The expression on his face was so dumb, so fucked out of it that he looked like he lost his mind. As if he succumbed to pleasure, him, the very fundament of lust. “Ah.. damn it, you are such a pretty boy asmo.. heh.” You complimented him among all these ruthless thrusts, it was a gentleness he didn’t know he needed to spill over the edge. “NgHHh! Uh-uhMm, I’m cu-cummINNgG <3!!” More tears rolled down his messy cheeks as his orgasm washed over him, this time he didn’t look as sane as before. No, he looked like he was drunk on the ecstasy and pleasure. It was so good, so so so good he couldn’t fathom it! It crashed down on him and his poor, slim body in waves, it was more than what he could handle!

Hearts were sparkling in his pupils, and his hands clutched the pillow so hard that it ripped. He even accidentally switched to his demon form, so his horns, wings and tail popped out. At this point he couldn’t think nor speak properly anymore, only repeating the same phrases like a broken radio. Whines and gasps of pleasure continued to fill the room of the boy, and his tongue was hanging out of his mouth like some dog in heat. Ropes of cum spurt out of his dick, dirtying the sheets below him. His thighs quivered, some of his slick also ran down his inner thighs. After helping him ride out his high, you slowly and gently pulled the cock out of him. Then, you also released his hips.

Two imprints of your hands were left behind, and you couldn’t hide a sadistic smirk. To your surprise asmo whispered to you in a meek voice, “keep.. mhm, holding me..” He was just a twitchy something now, limping on his bed while his brain was still processing all the sensations. It was simply too much, he was going to take a while until he’ll be responsive again. Even so he still craved your touch, he did have an adorable side to him didn’t he?

“I’ll, if that’s what you want.” You replied and grabbed his tiny waist again, this time you leaned down and pressed your body against his. After waiting and taking a break for a new minutes, you kissed his neck softly, before mumbling quietly, “wanna go wash up now, love?” Not once have you left his side while waiting patiently, giving him some time to reorganise. “Hmmm… can’t we stay like t-this a tad longer?” Asmo pouted and sighed, already feeling sore and the aftermath of the long session. God, he was still stumbling over his words! Just how hard did you fuck him? He will definitely walk funnily tomorrow, if he can even stand on his own two legs. “We can still cuddle after taking a shower. Come on, you go first while I clean up.” You suggested, knowing that he was totally out of energy.

“Nuuu! I want to stay like this! Pleaseeee? Pretty please??” He blinked at you, looking at you with puppy eyes, knowing that this trick always works on you. “Ugh! Fine, fine, if that’s what my princess here wants.” You sighed, acting annoyed at him doing as he pleased. “Hehe~” the devil laughed satisfied, resting his chin on the pillow as he enjoyed your touch. Next thing he knew you kissed his cheeks, while tugging his still chaotic hair behind his ear. While you did those things, you said with a little smile, “You did well asmo, I’m so proud of you.”

Huh. Where did that come from? Out of nowhere his face heated up again, and that right after you thought he had calmed down. “Aww, you are so cute y/n!” He responded immediately, though a hint of nervousness was laced and hidden behind his voice. Was the avatar of lust perhaps flustered or embarrassed about your words? Pff. You laughed in his face, before giving his forehead a peck. “Ahh~ I love you, my prince.”

[st-danger]

hi st im new here but ur writing is amazing and hurts my dick alot and i was wondring if u coulld write smth with free use if ur comfy 🤭🤭🤭 ty ur amazing

Mind the content, perverts.

Swiss is just starting to nod off, drifting into sleep in his dark, pleasantly cool room under a thick comforter when he hears his doorknob turn and click. Creak of the hinge that follows has him cracking open a single gold eye to see the silhouette of a ghoul who's body language looks sheepish, even in outline.

"Hey," Aeon says, telling on himself instantly with the breathy quality of his voice. He steps in and shuts the door behind him, and Swiss gropes for the light on his nightstand. He blinks against the sudden flood of light while his pupils constrict and the full picture comes into view: Aeon's wearing a thin cotton shirt, socks, and flannel pants- tented. Obviously hard. Pink cresting his cheekbones, unruly hair looking even more unkempt for how he must have been running restless hands through it. For something so vulgar, he looks so innocent. Swiss yawns and nods, sleepy.

"Yeah," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes. "Go on."

Aeon almost trips over himself, stumbling into his bed.

"Thanks," he says, and Swiss can't help the small smile; how is he supposed to find that anything other than endearingly awkward? The idea of feeling anything but fondness towards the newest summon and his neediness seems insane, though he will admit to a grumble of protest while Aeon jostles the bed climbing in, pushing the blankets away from him and he's exposed to the cooler ambient air. He doesn't bother to move- stays on his side, an arm tucked under the pillow, face half-smushed against it. Doesn't even try to pull his boxers down. If Aeon wants it, well, they've agreed that's his job.

"Need it again, huh?" Swiss says, eyes drifting closed once more. He's just so sleepy. He'll fuck him tomorrow, of course, but for now Aeon is welcome to do as he pleases and Swiss will put forth no effort. Honestly, depending on how furiously Aeon's going to rut against him, he might even end up falling asleep anyway. He hears the rustle of flannel, and then feels trembling hands begin to work the waistband of his boxers down, pulling them lower until they're bunched against his thighs, exposing the cleft of his ass. He does shift to help with this part. He's a gentleman, after all. Ask anybody.

"Uh huh." Aeon's voice is as unsteady as his hands, and it takes Swiss's deep well of maturity to only chuckle a little at the tone. At how horny and out of control and worked up the little critter is. Not from anything, just the weird thrill of a new body and new sensations. Can't help himself right now. Can't stop himself from getting stiffies. Can't keep from getting all excited all the time. He's like a naughty little puppy at the moment, and nobody, Swiss included, would ever dream of dampening his enthusiasm. The press of a warm body against his back, the feeling of him hard and blood-hot against his ass is delightful even through his tiredness. "Just- hard again," Aeon breathes into the nape of his neck. "Gotta cum," he says, quieter. Bashful.

He's not sure exactly what he expected right now. Aeon's done everything from jerk off onto him, to rub off on his boot. Fuck his thighs, maybe- that's what Swiss would have guessed for right now, but Aeon seems to know Swiss wouldn't be getting up to grab any lube for that, and there's no way Aeon has the modicum of self control needed in order to tear himself away long enough to snatch it from the bathroom counter himself. It would seem, however, that Aeon's so desperate he's just going to...hump him. Like he'd done to Cumulus the day before while she read, straddling her chest so he could press his straining, red cock against her still clothed tits and rock back and forth until he finished on her just like that. She's a real sweetheart, Swiss thinks. Let him collapse on top of her after. Stroked his hair and asked if he felt better while she finished the chapter.

Swiss can't help but yawn again as Aeon's hands settle on his shoulders and he begins to thrust against him stupidly. Oh, he'll be trouble for them all when he hits his first heat, and the collective agreement is that nobody is about to tell him what that is just yet. It'll either be the same or it'll be worse (and better), but a team effort undoubtedly. Aeon's movements shift him, rocking him back and forth.

"Needed it so bad," Aeon huffs, right in his ear. "Woke up hard." It sends a pleasant shiver down Swiss's spine, but that's as much as he can give right now. Tomorrow, for sure. Not now. The slide of his cock against him is delicious, though, no denying it. "Hard for you."

"I can tell," Swiss says, nestling into his pillow further, eyes drifting shut. "Really hard, aren't you?"

"So hard," Aeon almost wheezes, curling in closer to him, hands holding ever tighter while things turn ever more frantic. "Can't help it." He lets out a nervous wisp of a laugh. "I really- can't." Aeon draws his leg up, rests his leg on top of Swiss's so he can really get some leverage now. "So hot, Swiss, you're so hot. Oh- I don't think I'm gonna last," Aeon moans.

"Take your time," Swiss says around another yawn. "Clean me up when you're done."

[cherryblossom-heart]

I loved you once B.B

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Masterlist

Summary: Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy but breaking your heart seemed to come naturally to him. A love story about your heartbreak,his betrayal and a chance at redemption.

19.1 k words

Content Warning: ANGST, heartbreak, cheating, mature themes, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (Pussy job, penetrative sex p in v, sad/angry sex? Rough sex mixed with a little pain. It will make sense once you read it) . Fluff, mentions of bad mental health from both Bucky and reader, graphic violence, character's death, mentions of women trafficking as well as assault.

A/N: Wow 19k words. Im sorry this took so long to finish but as you can tell it is super long as I promised. Buckle up y'all, this is sad. Also this is my first time writing a proper cheating fic so if you can/want let me know if you like it or not. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics and @cafekitsune

Now  

"Fuck you," you spat the words.    

Tears fell from your eyes as they made their way down your neck, making dark spots in the collar of your red turtleneck. Even when pain was drowning you, beauty never left you. Bucky felt as if he were watching a beautiful Renaissance painting—a tragedy of sorts.   

"Is that all? I really don’t have time for this."   

He didn’t recognize his own words or the indifference they came out with. He didn’t mean to say them, but it was as if his own body was working on autopilot, and he was only a spectator to the shitshow it was causing. He wanted to stop. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to say so many things, but the only thing he was capable of was hurting you.   

"Are you kidding me? That’s all you’re going to say?"   

"What else do you want me to say? You know what happened, you saw her with your own eyes. Anything I say is either going to make you angrier or make you cry even more. Let’s just be done with this, you’ll eventually get over it."   

The sound of your hand connecting with his face put an end to his sentence. The hit didn’t feel as such, his skin barely processed it as anything more than a simple graze, but once the initial shock wore off, the sting came along. But it didn’t compare to the pain he felt in his heart when his eyes connected with yours once again.   

"I always knew you were capable of many things, but not once did I think you would ever be this cruel."   

Your eyes drifted to your hands, your right hand playing with the ring you wore in your left. A sigh left your lips, and more tears fell before you finally slid it off your finger, placing it on the table next to you.   

A bucket of iced water. Painful, burning, scorching coldness— that’s how Bucky would describe looking at you while silently breaking your engagement. His mind was telling him to get on his knees, beg, and try to fix everything he had broken. But the darkest part of him, the one that had taken over his life was assuring him you were bluffing. You couldn’t leave, you always stayed. You always fought for him, even when he didn’t deserve it.   

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes rolling with the uninterested façade he had perfected.   

"I’m done, I can’t keep doing this anymore." You turned your back, strong and determined steps leading to his apartment door.  

Please, fix this.   

His trembling hands made their way to your wrist, anything that could mend the cracks in your heart that seeped with pain, the cracks he had caused with his own selfishness. Before his fingers could even graze your skin, your hand quickly swatted away his pathetic effort to stop you.  

"God, stop being so goddamed drama—"   

"Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t try to contact me ever again, I won’t answer."   

"Can you just—"   

"If I ever see you again I swear I’ll murder you. I didn’t kill you the first time we met but I swear I’ll do it if you even dare to breath in my direction."   

Your words hurt, it seemed as though each one stabbed him right through the chest in a taunting way, a reminder of how much he had screwed up. Bile rose to his throat when you recoiled at his proximity, and the hate in your eyes burned him with such force that he was sure you wouldn't wait until the next time you met.   

He deserved it either way.  

Bucky's eyes opened just as the car jolted, his heart racing against his chest, his ears buzzing. For a fraction of a second, he's confused, not remembering why he was in the car, but the fogginess of his thoughts was replaced with anxiety when he heard the tracker beeping on Sam's thigh. 

"Good, you’re awake. I think we’re almost there." Sam kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing down at the device that told him where to go. Judging by his demeanor, his friend didn’t seem as nervous as he did, if at all. It wasn’t like Sam had a reason to, he was the only one who had fucked up.  

He looked out at the vehicle, and the passing trees in the darkness of the night numbed his mind while he tried to forget about his dream. No, it wasn’t a dream, it was his worst memory to date. Usually, his nightmares were about the crimes he had committed while being the Winter Soldier, and he could blame them on his consciousness not being there with him. His own body didn’t belong to him, so he couldn’t keep blaming himself for the things HYDRA had forced him to do.  

With you, on the other hand, he could not blame anyone else but himself. His mind wasn’t tortured by a secret organization in hopes of ruining his relationship, nor was he forced to hurt the person about whom he cared the most to save thousands of lives. He did it all by himself, and now the nightmares have not only scared him but hurt him all over again.  

You started to show up in his dreams more frequently once Sam told him they needed your help. As expected, the super-soldier's first reaction was total and complete refusal. His friend thought it was a childish reaction the former winter soldier was having to avoid the awkwardness of meeting you again, only knowing your relationship had ended on bad terms without hearing the specifics. But the blue-eyed man wasn’t doing it for himself, he was doing it for you. The night you left, you made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with him, or even anything related to him, your resignation from the Avengers Team and subsequent evaporation from the face of the earth was a strong message to leave you alone.  

After a few hours of arguing, with both men going back and forth on why they did or didn't need you, Bucky finally agreed to go look for you. Lives were at stake, and no matter how hard he tried to look for a solution that avoided you, there seemed to be none. Before he could ask where to even start looking for you, Sam pulled out a device that seemed familiar to a phone. You had given Sam, and only Sam, a tracker that could find you anywhere in the world and could only be unlocked by a password you had whispered to him  

The depth of his tormenting cycle of thoughts didn’t let him register they weren’t on the road anymore until his partner stopped the vehicle. They were surrounded by tall, dense trees, and the crickets and cicadas that hid in the dark made an orchestra that filled the emptiness of the night. Sam grabbed his gear, the sound of a duffle bag being opened broke the rhythm of nature.  

"Why are we stopping here?" Bucky asked with a frown. His own duffle was placed across his back, the tinkering of the metal inside it annoying him slightly.  

His friend threw an annoyed look at him before rolling his eyes and scrambling through his belongings. "As I said like twenty minutes ago while you were brooding and having your own pity party, this thing shows her inside a building in the middle of the woods. I’d like to take a look around the area before going in blind."  

"Oh."  

Normally, the super soldier would’ve had a comeback for the annoying yet harmless insults his friend and partner would throw at him, even a snide comment. But this was different, no matter what Sam would say, he could only think of what was about to happen. So he let it slide, submerging himself in his own thoughts while Sam threw the little flying robot he nicknamed "Red Wing" into the air. Once it was hovering above them and Sam made sure to have full control of it, they began a walk that would last about thirty minutes before the device would find any signs of life.  

Sam and him were waiting somewhere near the alleged building, Sam's robot scanning the surroundings.The thumping in his chest returned, and his fingers became ice cold.He was so close. Close enough to see you, close enough to talk to you, and perhaps close enough to apologize. 

How would you react to seeing him? Would you be happy to see him? Probably not, considering the last thing you said to him was that you would kill him if he ever came near you. He knew he deserved it, but hopefully time changed your murderous resolution. Maybe even forgave him.  

Could you ever forgive him?  

A slight swat from Sam brought him back from his thoughts, silently letting him know they were ready to go. Bucky could sense it before the place was even visible, the vibrations of the music resonating through the ground. The smell of smoke, alcohol, and humanity reached his nostrils right as they saw the line of cars parked in a plain field next to what resembled a warehouse.  

To an untrained eye, it would look like a normal, unsanitary, and probably unsafe rave done by stupid people. But the polarized windows of the cars, the shine coming from the inside of the guards' jackets, and the lot of security cameras installed in the building told another story. Whatever or whoever was in there was dangerous, and as usual, you had gotten yourself in the middle of it.  

Bucky wasn’t an idiot. He knew you couldn’t stay away from helping people, no matter how hard you tried. He saw the breadcrumbs, microscopic, little clues that he could recognize as your style. A missing girl suddenly returning to her family, a kidnapped journalist in the middle of war returning to their respective embassy. A child trafficker falling from his hotel room in the twentieth floor. You had always been... effective when it came to missions, sometimes going overboard with your methods, but Tony, Steve, and himself had always guided you towards the good and righteous path that a person with your abilities was supposed to take. 

You lost all three of them in the span of a year.  

They were lucky that it was relatively easy to get inside, and even luckier that their clothes didn't draw too much attention to them. Sure, they seemed to be wearing more clothes than needed, as most people seemed to enjoy themselves topless and/or pantless, but with the darkness of the room barely being lit by the flashing blue and red lights, no one really noticed them.  

Guys, girls, and people he wasn’t sure how to label were grinding against each other. Hands touched him, pulling his jacket, and he had to push them all away, trying to make his way through the sea of people. The inside of the warehouse could pass for a functioning club, with couches, dance floors, and screens accommodating everyone inside.  

Bucky wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything like this; the debauchery that people showed shocked his old-fashioned ways. He was sure he had seen several people inside each other, whether it was fingers, tongues, or dicks, no one seemed to mind that everyone else could see them. How had you gotten yourself into the middle of this disguised orgy? What were you even doing here?  

Both men made their way to the front of the place, where a private section was installed looking over the dancefloor. Two large guys guarded the stairs that connected the lower and upper levels, allowing mostly attractive girls to ascend. Both men agreed that if you were to be found somewhere, it would undoubtedly be there. They scanned the room, looking for any way they could access the VIP level without having a pair of tits and long legs.  

He had never understood scenes in movies where they showed time slowing down. Every time he had been in a fight, whether it was as himself in the forties or as the winter soldier, everything seemed to happen too fast to process. Even the night you left, time had seemed to go at an abnormally fast pace, and by the time he could finally react the way he wanted, it had been too late.  

He never understood those scenes until he saw you walking to the protective railing surrounding the edge of the private section. Above the deafening music, the moans, and the music, he could hear your voice talking to someone else.  

It was as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your beauty had remained the same your hair, your eyes, and your lips all looked the same, yet his heart started racing just as it did all those years ago. You weren’t dressed like everyone else dancing around him, your black dress with a dangerous deep cleavage was sensuous, but it held a certain level of class that made you stand out from the crowd.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

Time moved at a slow pace, the slowest he had experienced. He was grateful for it, as it allowed him to appreciate every detail from you. The way your lips came close to the drink you had in your hand, the drumming your fingers did on top of the railing, the glint in your eyes—he knew it meant you were lost in your thoughts.   

Bucky had never been more grateful for the way time passed. Until he saw a pair of hands sliding across your waist, fingers gripping your hips so roughly, he was sure they would leave a mark on your skin. A semi-attractive man whispered words in your ear, his beard scruffing against your skin. You smirked, turning around to plaster your lips against his in a kiss that could make a pornstar blush.  

He knew you'd moved on; nearly a year had passed since the last time he saw you, and you'd probably found someone to sleep with, but he wasn't ready to watch you become someone else's. His mind was prepared to face your happiness, but his heart wasn’t. And even now, he was sure you were just tagging along with the man, using him for information for whatever mission you had gotten yourself into, yet he felt as if what remained of his heart had been ripped out of his chest.  

With strong, rough movements, the man turned you around, pressing your body against the railing. As his hand grabbed your neck, your hips grinded against his, your mouth open as you licked your lips. 

The super soldier couldn’t take it anymore, his heart begged him to stop the torture. He wasn’t even sure where Sam was, nor did he care. He cared about you, and he could only think about what he had lost. With the last of his dignity, he began to look away from you and your companion, who had leaned over to your ear once more. Except this time his eyes found Bucky’s, his fingers tightening around your neck.  

He knew. Somehow the man knew who he was and, most importantly, who you were.  

Your eyes widen slightly, searching through the sea of people dancing downstairs. But it didn't take you long to find those blue eyes you once adored. He was there, looking exactly the same as the night you left him, along with your heart.  

"I know who you are." The man whispered in your ear—a threat not so subtly hidden behind every word.  

But you couldn’t dwell long on his words because ice-cold eyes looked back at you. Ice cold eyes brought back the pain you thought you left behind, and the rage surfaced once more as you remembered the promises you made him.  

Cold metal was pressed against your neck, the edge of it grazing your skin. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm, and his hands turned into fists, making him look like he cared. Like he actually had a heart.  

He barely took two steps in your direction when the wicked smile you wore stopped him. It was sinister. It was deadly. And when you turned to the man to say something, his grip faltered as one word left your lips.  

"Good"  

Your head connected against the man’s nose, a crack let you know it was most likely broken. You barely heard the man’s yells when bullets made their way to you, a couple of them grazing your skin. The room that was once filled with hips swaying, alcohol, and moans had transformed into a frenzy of screams and people running to get out of the building.  

The crowd tried to take Bucky away; their desperate attempts at escaping dragged him away as he fought his way through the sea of people. Seconds passed, and he could hear your grunts as well as more shooting coming from the upper floor, with girls running down the stairs, some of them with splashes of blood staining their clothes.  

He didn’t know whose blood it belonged to, and that frightened him.  

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. "What the hell happened?"  

His friend had managed to make his way to him, both of them still getting pushed around. Bucky offered him a quick glance before resuming his previous task of making his way to the stairs.  

"Her cover is blown," was all the explanation Bucky offered, and somehow it was enough. Before any of them could add anything, screams came from the front door, three bulky men were making their way there while carrying very large and dangerous guns. "Take care of them, I’ll go help her," the super soldier said without leaving any room for discussion.  

When his fingers finally grabbed the banister of the stairs, Bucky was close to losing his mind. Climbing two steps at a time, he finally found himself a scene that froze him in the spot.  

You were there, your black dress ripped in some places, your makeup ruined by mascara running down your cheeks, and blood splashes tainted your flawless skin. Bucky had managed to get there just in time as you twisted a man's arm to an unnatural angle, the crack of his joint popping out of place was followed by his screams. You had managed to kill/knock out everyone except for the guy who had previously had a knife to your throat, and Bucky knew better than to think that was just a mere coincidence.  

After the last man fell to the ground, blood sputtering out of his neck, you lifted your gaze towards him. He couldn’t read you as easily as he had once been able to and he hated it. Before, he was sure he knew you better than you knew yourself, more than once already sure of your likes and dislikes before you asked him for an opinion. He had treasured those times in his mind, and the memories were as comforting as they were painful. A constant reminder of what he had lost.  

He was right there, right in front of you. The man you fell in love with when you still had a heart. The man who still had a tight grip on it and who would probably always own it. He could keep it for all you cared, your heart was tainted with memories you didn’t wish to keep.  

It was the first time both of you were this close, every scream gone as you were absorbed by your own bubble. He looked so familiar that your own body reacted the way it used to whenever you saw him. Your heart stammered in your chest, and even after so long, the butterflies in your stomach appeared for a millisecond. He was the man you had once loved, he was the man with whom you imagined a future together.  

Then, you remembered why all your hopes and dreams had been destroyed.  

Bucky noticed the hurt flashing through your face, your jaw tightening right before you made your way to him. For a moment, he thought you were about to hug him, your desperation to reach him in your long strides mirroring his as his body begged him to touch you. He wanted to apologize, beg for forgiveness at your feet, and profess the love that he wasn’t able to forget.  

Perhaps if his mind hadn't been plagued with all the things he wanted to do, he would’ve noticed your foot rising to give him a solid kick on the chest.  

The force and unexpectedness of your attack launched him back to the railing, throwing him over it. His back landed with a loud thud on the floor, fortunate enough for him, everyone else seemed to have dissipated and his fall wasn’t that high up. A second later, you jumped from the banister, landing on top of him with your knife in hand. Your knee found it’s place on his chest, feet pressing his hands flat on the surface. Before Bucky could even muster a word, the blade was pinned against his throat.  

"I told you if I ever saw you again, I would fucking kill you." 

Then  

Steve had changed so much in the years they had spent apart. His friend, who had once been the fragile little Brooklyn boy he would protect with his life, was now a fully grown man with a strength that could crush a person if he wasn’t careful enough. He was also now his protector, not from bullies that would harass him because of his own stubbornness but from a secret organization that wanted to take over the world. That and his own fractured mind.  

He had lost control once the man had given him the commands to bring back the deadly assassin they had turned him into. He remembered it all, but it had felt as if he was under water the whole time, falling deeper and deeper the more he tried to fight against it. His own body didn’t belong to him, no matter how hard he tried to control it.  

For a year, he had thought it was possible to lead a normal life; his time spent in Romania had given him false hope that he had gotten away from his captors. How foolish he had been, thinking he could ever be far away from his grasps. He wasn’t the man he was before, just a weapon designed to hurt people.  

He supposed he was lucky Steve still saw good in him, at least enough to turn against his teammates and friends to help him clear his name. And now, as they drove to one of Steve’s friends' hideouts, he couldn’t help but feel guilty about everything that was going on. If he hadn’t lost control, Steve wouldn't be a wanted criminal. If he wasn’t captured, a shit ton of innocent, good people would still be alive. If his mind had been stronger, he could’ve broken free of HYDRA's mind control.  

Maybe it would’ve been better if he had actually died when he fell from that train.  

Steve parked outside an abandoned apartment complex, it seemed no one had lived there in years. He threw a questioning eyebrow at Sam, who just shrugged before getting out of the vehicle. Another of Steve’s friends had decided to help him out of loyalty to Steve, not because he particularly liked Bucky or entirely believed in his good side.  

All three men walked inside the building, not a sound inside other than their footsteps and heavy breathing. Steve looked around for a couple of seconds before making his way to the second floor, his intuition telling him where to go. He stood in front of a door with a big C plastered on it, his friend's hand hesitating before knocking on the wood.  

After the third knock came back without an answer, Steve decided to open the door. He had called a name while crossing the threshold, looking around for any signs of life inside the apartment. Bucky was surprised to find the apartment filled with computers, blueprints, documents, and lots of military-grade equipment. Everything gave away the signs of someone working there, yet there was no one who took ownership over them.  

It was too late when Bucky heard you standing behind him, with his feet being swept by your leg and effectively knocking him down. The wooden floor amplified the echo of his fall, catching Steve and Sam’s attention. Your frame landed on top of his, gun aimed directly between his eyes.Bucky's hand reached to grab your ankle in an effort to destabilize you, but the barrel of your weapon was pressed right on his forehead.  

"I wouldn’t do it if I were you," you said coolly. "I promise you, I’ll blow your brains out before you can even land a hit."  

After your words filled the room, Bucky’s eyes finally took their chance to look at you, actually look at you.  

God, you were beautiful.  

Maybe it was only your physical beauty that had taken him by surprise, or the fact that you had taken him down so easily with just one leg movement. Or even the fact that you seemed to have no fear towards a man who was being marketed as a "dangerous and armed terrorist." Whatever it was, Bucky couldn’t deny the fact that you were the most beautiful human being he had seen.  

After a few explanations from Steve’s part and some begging for help, you released the super soldier from your hold, weapon holstered in your back. Your hand extended to help him get off the floor, and you offered him a charming but wary smile.   

You told the three men to make themselves at home and take anything they needed. Bucky had chosen to keep guard, being by himself in the top floor while looking out through a window that hid him from everyone else. He was stewing in his own complicated thoughts when he heard a knock on the wall. You were there, standing a few feet away from him with a shy smile on your face as you extended to him a cup filled with hot coffee.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

"Sorry about the whole thing holding you hostage," you said as he welcomed the cup.  

His fingers accidentally grazed against your own, and it was as if he had touched electricity itself. Heat extended from his hands all through his body, and his ability to think was thrown out of the window. He looked at you, and he couldn’t tell if you felt the same or not, but he could feel how your eyes burned him, with a curiosity behind them that was so easy to read that he was surprised you were the black ops/spy Sam had told him.  

"It’s whatever, I would’ve done the same thing if I were you." Bucky answered after a few seconds.  

He turned to look through the window again, trying to keep his thoughts in order. You settled down next to him, the warmth of your skin reaching his own. Nothing could be heard other than your breathings, not even the cars outside or the sound of the busy city that hid you. And for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt relaxed with someone he didn’t know from the past.  

"I’m James."  

He could’ve sworn he heard you smile before you gave him your name. 

Now  

"What the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?"  

The music was still on, as were the blue and red lights that lighted up the darkness in the room. Bucky could feel the breeze of your breath on his face and the smell of expensive whisky and tobacco in every word you said. He wasn’t surprised, the man that you knocked out probably tried to impress you with them.  

But behind the traces of blood, alcohol, and gunpowder, he could smell your shampoo. The same peony smell mixed with lavander filled his nostrils, and it brought him back to the many nights you had spent together. Your fingers were drawing circles on the skin of his back, and his nose was buried in your hair.  

You, on the other hand, were reminded of the suffering he caused you with every passing second.  

"I told you to stay away from me," you muttered.  

Your hand pressed the edge of the blade on his skin, and you were sure if you kept going you were going to start drawing out blood, but you couldn’t care less. Bucky Barnes had always been an expert at instilling unwanted emotions in you, and it was difficult to keep those emotions at bay right now. 

You felt anger. You felt resentment. You felt pure, long-lasting hatred.  

"Maybe I should slit your throat right now, that’ll make you stay away from me permanently."  

Your words were intimidating, filled with the same promise you had made him that fateful night. This was his chance, his chance at the apology that had died out in his throat when you closed the door behind him. This was the chance he had chased in his dreams for almost a year.  

But he couldn’t say anything.  

He loved you. God, he loved you so much. He missed seeing your face other than in the few pictures he kept or in the memories that did no justice. Because even now, as you threatened to kill him, you were a dream come true, just like the first time he saw you. 

"Say something!"  

"You’re beautiful."  

Your grip faltered on the knife, your eyebrows slightly furrowing at his words.  

No, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t come back out of nowhere, say some cheesy, basic compliment, and make the walls of hate you had built crumble. Even if he had only managed to knock down one brick, he didn't deserve it. You knew it, he knew it, and everyone else who knew what happened between you two knew it.  

Then why did your heart flutter at his words?  

"Hey," Sam said, breaking the silence, your head snapping in his direction."I know he’s an asshole, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t kill my partner."  

You look back at Bucky for a few seconds before giving up, throwing your knife to the floor. Sam leaned over, his hand extended to help Bucky get up.Your murderous eyes went from Bucky to Sams, your gaze softening at his friend.  

"I told you to only contact me in emergencies," you grumbled.  

A hiss left your lips when you touched your arm, one of the bullet wounds was still seeping blood. Bucky thought about telling you something, but this time he listened to the rational part of his brain that told him to shut the fuck up.  

"Believe me, if we had a choice, we wouldn’t have come," Sam said.  

Your eyes flickered between both men, not convinced about helping them. Well, on helping the blue eyed super soldier. A pathetic excuse for why you couldn’t help them died on your lips once you saw his blue eyes. Please, help us they begged.  

You didn’t owe him anything. You shouldn’t help him, but in the back of your head, Steve’s voice rang through. Good ol’ Steve Rogers and his everlasting moral lessons. That's what we have to do, he said. 

So you put aside your feelings because helping people mattered more than an idiot who broke your heart.  

"What do you want?" You sighed.  

"We’re looking into something... odd. A bunch of pregnant women missing, still in their early stages of pregnancy. Most of them show up dead after giving birth, but the babies are nowhere to be found."  

You shrug. "They take the kids, so?"  

It was cold, you were aware of it. But after the things you had seen, the things you had done, you were aware that people kidnapping woman for their babies wasn’t something out of the ordinary, let alone something that required Captain America to look into it. Things like that were always forgotten, pushed back into a slew of cases alongside more missing women. 

"They had traces of the super serum."  

Fuck.  

You laughed. A joyless, cynical type of laugh. Destiny, of course, had to be a jerk. 

"Well, you’re in luck. I think we’re tracking down the same people." Sam raised an eyebrow at you with a simple request for you to elaborate. "A girl showed up dead in México a couple of months ago, she’d been missing for almost a year. Autopsy showed she had a miscarriage before dying, the bleeding killed her. The remains had traces of the serum too."  

"Are you saying that—?" Sam couldn’t finish his sentence, the thought sending chills along his spine.  

"Yeah."  

The air is somber between the three of you. Sure, the flag smashers were a problem when they appeared, as you knew from all the news reports you'd seen.People with ten times the strength of a normal human being were dangerous, especially if they were associated with a terrorist organization. 

This was different, though. This was sinister.  

Groans coming from the top floor broke the eeriness that surrounded you, making you finally remember why you were here. You tore apart part of the black dress that was once pristine and wrapped it around your arm.  

"Look at this guy over there," you said, motioning behind you. "He has intel on this, he’s the one that gets the girls and delivers them."  

"Well, let’s take him in and—"  

You cut Sam off. "No. Look, you came looking for me because this is my specialty. I know how to handle guys like him, and I sure as hell know he won’t tell us shit if we take him to a precinct and threaten him with some jail time. He’s a big fish. A few phone calls and he’ll be out in no time." They knew you were right, but they didn’t like your arguments. "We do this my way, or you better pray you find them before I do."  

Sam looked hesitant. He knew what you were going to do to the man, and his good conscience chastised him for even thinking of letting you torture someone. But the rational part, the part that knew that in this case there wasn’t much of an option, knew that they needed you, and perhaps you also needed them.  

"Just, don’t kill him." Sam said before walking away.  

Compromise. You could do compromise.  

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes. 

After Sam slammed the door shut on his way out, you were reminded of the fact that you weren't alone. Bucky’s eyes were already looking at you, the same apologetic eyes you had seen before you kicked him in the chest.  

"Thanks for helping us." He spoke, thinking it was an appropriate way to break the ice, but it only managed to make you scoff.  

"Let’s make something clear, I’m not doing this for you." you spat. "I’m doing this because Sam needs my help and so we can save those innocent girls and stop any more from being taken. This doesn’t change anything between us, as soon as this is over, you go back to leaving me the fuck alone, got it?"  

Say something. Fight for her. Explain what happened, his mind begged him.  

But he couldn’t, because even if it had been almost a year since he last saw you, he was still the same coward who let you walk away without a fight.  

So he agreed.  

"Yeah."  

"Good. I’ll meet you outside." 

Then  

"Thanks for the coffee." Bucky said before taking a sip.  

Droplets of water fell from his forehead, a strand of unruly black hair was hanging on the side of his eyebrows. The towel that hung from his waist, showing his torso all the way down to that sculpted V of his abdomen, made it too difficult to concentrate on the files you were trying to organize.  

The man was hotter than the sun.  

"No problem." you smiled at him.   

You had no idea it would be the best and worst decision you'd ever made when you suggested Bucky stay with you while Steve went to rescue the others.You liked Bucky, and the few days you spent with him while Steve and the others gathered everything they needed so they could go find Zemo had been nice. Sure, he was a man of a few words, but it didn’t bother you. It was weirdly comforting to be able to enjoy someone’s company in silence. And the times he spoke, he did it out of pure curiosity, curiosity about the world, about what had happened while he was in the ice, but mostly about you.  

He asked about your cases, how you met Steve, and how you came to partner with some of the most powerful people in the world. He asked about your life, about your childhood in the orphanage, and what made you choose to help people. He asked so many questions, yet he still respected you when you didn’t want to answer some of them. He asked, not to pry, but to get to know you, and in return, when you asked him something, he was as honest as he felt comfortable being.  

And that was the problem. No matter how much you tried, you knew your days with Bucky Barnes were numbered. Ever since you were young, you knew that being in this line of work would prevent you from having a normal life. You couldn't have a normal relationship. You weren’t meant to have the love story your favorite movies portraited, the white picket fence and the family of five wasn’t in your future.  

Neither was he, maybe in the forties he would’ve came home from war and found himself a pretty girl to marry. But now, after everything he had seen and everything he had unwillingly done, he probably wouldn't want a relationship any time soon. Or maybe not at all.  

But after three weeks of being cramped up in the same little apartment, you were getting used to him. You had developed a little routine together that always ended up with a cup of coffee at the end of the day. Sometimes both of you would just sit in silence, taking in each other's company while you sipped on your cups. Other times, just like now, he would sit next to you as you watched whatever movie you had decided to put on.  

You had to cut this at the root before it became too hard to let go.  

"So, you’re going to Wakanda?"  

He sighs. "Yeah. Steve says they have someone that might be able to help with... help with my..."  

"I know." You finished for him, suddenly placing your hand on top of his. He tensed at your touch, both of you looking down at your hands before you took away yours, embarrassed at your own lack of control. "Well, if you’re not too busy there, I could go visit you sometimes."  

"You would?" he questioned.  

"If you want me, too," you shrugged, trying not to reveal your excitement. 

He looked at you, his thoughts unreadable through his face. For a moment, you thought he was going to reject your offer, but something changed in his eyes. He smiled, the faintest, littlest hint of a smile you had seen, but it was there.  

You made him smile for the first time.  

"Yeah. I’d like that."  

If someone were to ask Bucky when he first felt he could love you, it would be right now. With the dim light of the TV lighting up your face and a shy smile on your lips as you told him you were willing to travel such a long distance just to see him.  

And as you lay next to him, your head against his shoulder, you thought to yourself that maybe you could be selfish for once and allow yourself to enjoy his company a bit more. 

Now  

There were drops of water leaking out of a pipe, he could hear them from the other side of the room. Everything around him was dark, it seemed the only source of light was on top of him and the woman on the floor pleading for her life.   

"Please don’t do this," she begged with a Spanish accent. "I don’t want to die, please."   

He wanted to move, he wanted to throw away the gun in his hand, but it was like he was a spectator of his own life. His body was not his, or his breathing. Not even his heartbeat listened to the inner panic attack he was having. Nothing belonged to him.   

"Kill her," a distorted voice told him. His eyes glanced at him quickly, and he noticed the man had no face. No one around them had one.   

Everything felt like it was in slow motion. His finger moved, pressing the trigger of the gun, but he refused to give up. He had to try, even if his own consciousness was trying to kick him out, sucking him into the pool of darkness he had been resting in for a long time.   

But even if he tried for years, he couldn’t win. He was powerless.   

Broken.   

He could only witness how the other "him" obeyed. The woman's eyes changed from scared to lifeless in less than a second. A splash of crimson staining his combat boots kept his attention. He couldn’t hear what the other people in the room were saying, he didn’t exist anymore, or he didn’t want to. The sound of the water leak was deafening now. Growing louder and louder until it consumed everything around him   

He didn’t want to be awake. Not like this.   

And as he felt himself disappearing, he hoped this was the last time he came back to the surface. He would rather be surrounded by emptiness.   

Yet something interrupted him, pulling him back up.   

A woman's voice, so familiar it made his heartbeat change.   

"Bucky!"  

Bucky's eyes opened wide. His head was spinning, his breathing was rapid, and his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. The adrenaline in his system made him dizzy, and he could feel his hands shaking. And he was feeling. A lot. Scared, angry, hopeless. So many emotions constricted his chest, burying him under their weight.  

"Bucky," you repeated. His head snapped at you, showing you a pair of wide, terrified eyes.  

Your feet almost moved. A pure protective instinct filled you with dread at the fact that you couldn’t help him anymore. Your head and your heart were in conflict. In one hand your heart begged you to go to him, stroke his back as you peppered kisses along his shoulder. Then you would lie back in bed while your hands surrounded his body, your front pressed to his back in a way to say, I’m here, I love you, and everything will be alright.  

On the other hand, your brain told you to turn in the other direction. Walk away from the night terrors that plagued his mind and let him suffer in silence. He wasn't your responsibility anymore, and you shouldn't be concerned about helping him with whatever was wrong with him. 

Was it possible to hate and care about someone at the same time?  

"Nightmares?" you couldn’t help yourself from asking. 

His left hand rubbed his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips. "Yeah. Sorry if I woke you up."  

"You didn’t."  

You sat at the table in front of the couch he was lying on, a steaming cup of lavender tea between your hands. The cling of the spoon clashing against the ceramic filled the uncomfortable silence between you.  

"Where’s Sam?" he asked, sitting straight as a couple of droplets of sweat fell down his forehead.  

"He has a contact in the city. He left to meet them."  

"Oh."  

Whatever else he was about to say died on his lips. You noticed he seemed to do that often since meeting again, his eyes speaking the words he would never say. Sometimes you would catch him looking at you, the frown on his forehead deepening with the passing of time. It made you wonder if he would now be open to answering your questions.  

"He said you’re going to therapy."  

He was taken aback by your question. It probably was the first time you said more than the necessary to him. Also, it was the first time that you showed any sort of interest in his life.  

"Uh, yeah. Court mandated."  

You hummed, sipping on your tea.  

"Does it work?"  

You saw the hesitance in his eyes. The way his jaw clenched and his grip on the couch made his knuckles white made you think he was about to change the subject with a witty, bitter, or sarcastic remark, or maybe even just ignore the question at all. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did, by the end of your relationship, he was an expert in it.  

Bucky didn’t change much after all, you thought to yourself  

But he broke the silence.  

"In some ways." he started, his gaze dropping to the floor. "The nightmares don’t come as often anymore, and I don’t feel the need to shoot every asshole that drives a shitty car with a shitty exhaust pipe." You chuckled at his confession, making a slight smirk show on his face. "But she’s too much."  

"What do you mean?"  

He sighed. "She pisses me off. I hate that she keeps trying to make me feel better by just saying my life is better now and I shouldn’t feel like shit anymore. But it’s not that easy. Just like it’s not easy to follow the stupid set of rules she gave me."  

He looked up to see your reaction to his words, expecting to see the same hardened look you’ve given him the past couple of weeks. And it was just that what greeted his eyes, your lips slightly pressed together and your eyes decorated with a slight scowl that only showed up for him.  

But behind the tough exterior, he could see your eyes had softened. For a brief second, your eyes showed care and understanding to what he siad before going back to the usual void stare you gave him.  

"She sounds like a bad therapist." He shrugged in agreement, he couldn’t say anything against the truth. "She also sounds like a bitch."  

He laughed. The type of laugh that caught him off guard and made his lungs run out of air. Granted, your joke might’ve not been as funny as his laugh was giving it credit for, but he had always been fond of your bluntness.  

You couldn’t help but laugh with him too.  

Laughing with Bucky felt foreign yet so familiar at the same time. It felt like reminiscing on a memory you didn’t remember you had, a bittersweet memory that brought back the same good feeling of the memories you built together  

But moments like that couldn’t last forever. Your heart couldn’t afford to remember.  

A text message from Sam lit up your screen, saying his contact had useful information. You stood up from the table after texting him back and drank the rest of the cup's contents. 

"You should try to get some sleep, we have a long day ahead."  

His shoulders dropped slightly.  

"Yeah, you’re right. I’ll try to."  

With nothing left to say, you walked away, leaving Bucky in the loneliness of the night.   

You didn’t go right away to the room you had adopted as your own, though. He heard you going through the kitchen, a dim sound of clinking and pouring reaching him due to his enhanced hearing. He didn't think anything of it; maybe you needed more tea before going to bed. 

Your steps brought you back to him before you placed an object on the coffee table right beside him.  

A cup of lavender tea. 

Then  

"It’s kinda late to be outside, huh?"  

Bucky jolted at the sound of your voice, your presence taking him by surprise. He was completely sure that when he left a couple of hours ago his house was empty and you hadn’t sent a message of your arrival.   

Something had happened? Was someone injured? Were you in trouble?  

His questions died on his lips as you cut the space between you and him short, your arms tightly embracing him. Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, his long hair falling on your face. His hands took a second to respond, but they eventually wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest.  

You stayed like that for what felt like ages, just taking in each other's warmth. He missed you, even if he tried to deny it every time his thoughts would wander to you. He tried to convince himself that his reclusion made him miss everyone he considered a friend, and in a world where everyone seemed to want him dead, you were one of the few people he trusted.  

He had been staying in Wakanda for nearly six months, and out of those six months, you had visited him at least once every month. The duration of your trip would vary, sometimes you would stay only a few hours, with most of your time spent in his hut while sharing stories of the outside and his progress. Other times, you'd stay for days, with the longest stay being a week and a half. In those cases, he would show you the surroundings, the forest that surrounded the back of his hut or take you on a long walk alongside the river that crossed his home. Sometimes you'd sit outside and stare at the stars, your only company being the animals and the flora. 

He also came to hate every time you would leave, feeling like a part of himself was leaving with you.  

One of his hands landed on the side of your hips, the other searching for your face.Your grip on him grew tighter once his fingers brushed the skin on your face but you eventually let go, allowing his hand to guide you slightly away from him.  

"What happened?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You didn’t respond, but one look into your eyes, and he knew the answer. Whatever it was, it had affected you to the core, the broken look in your eyes could only be compared to the one he saw every time he looked at his reflection in the mirror.  

His forehead rested on yours, both your eyes closing at the contact.  

"It’s ok. I got you."  

His hand found yours as he guided you toward his bed. It wasn’t until then that he noticed you still had your tactical gear on, dirt and crystals still hiding in some places. He grabbed the buckle of your vest, his eyes asking for permission to get it off. A slight nod gave him the confirmation, beginning the process of somewhat freeing you of the events you had seen. He got rid of his own garments too, leaving you both standing in front of yourselves with only underwear covering you. He dragged you into bed, your frames covered by the light white sheets on his bed. 

Not many times had he allowed himself to think of you in a sexual manner, knowing how his body would react in a lustful way. But as he found himself looking at you with barely any clothes on, the desire was left on the back burner of his brain. You needed him. You needed his comfort, and he was more than willing to give it to you.  

He would give you anything you asked for.  

His hand rested on your face, tracing circles across your cheek, your eyes closed at the soothing action.  

"I’m sorry." Your voice trembled. He could see you wanted to say more, but words failed to come out of your mouth  

Bucky’s heart ached. He had never seen you in such a vulnerable state, and his mind was going cray at the thought of not being able to do anything to help you.  

"It’s ok, sunshine. You don’t have to talk about it."  

So you lay there, head against his chest, as he kept you between his arms, with nothing other than the sound of the crickets outside his hut surrounding you. And for the first time in a long time, you felt what being loved felt like.  

That night, you kissed him for the first time. You didn’t stop, not even the next morning when he woke you up with breakfast already made and a cup of lavender tea. 

 Now  

"Bring him to the table!" you yelled.  

Your hand swept across the surface, knocking over every piece of paper, pencil, and piece of equipment. The vibrations of the heavier objects on the concrete floors matched the beating of your heart.  

Bucky dropped Sam on the table. The man had gone unconscious on the ride to the safe house, the bullet wound that oozed liquid crimson was most likely the cause.The same crimson color now stains Bucky's clothes, and his leather gloves were also covered in a thin layer of it.  

You brought your knife to slash through his clothes, the sharp metal cutting through them as if they were butter. The hole on his shoulder seemed to have no exit, the bullet was still inside him. You were glad Sam wasn’t conscious for the next hour.  

The super soldier hovered over you for the entirety of the time you spent cleaning through the fragments that splintered from the bullet. Everything went relatively well until Sam started waking up, his body contorting in pain as you dug through his wound. Bucky brought him a bottle of vodka while you injected him with some local anesthesia.  

Hours later, the wounded man was now resting on the only bed the safehouse had, his breathing bringing great comfort as it meant he was still alive. After half a bottle of vodka and a some painkillers diluted on his IV, you were sure he wouldn’t wake up until tomorrow.  

The faucet sprayed cold water onto your palms. Your nails desperately tried to scrape away the traces of blood that still lingered in your skin, leaving red marks all across your knuckles. Dirt and dried blood were trapped underneath your fingernails, and no matter how much you tried to dig it out, it would stay right there.  

Bucky’s footsteps brought you out of your trance, the heavy sound of his combat boots felt deafening with each step he took. You tried to tune him out, focusing once again on the sound of water, but it seemed as if Bucky had made it his purpose to be as loud as possible. You held onto the sink so strongly that you were sure it would snap.  

A deep rage came from your stomach, spreading all over your body. The anger constricted your chest in such a way that you weren’t sure if somehow you were buried under a collapsed building, its weight invisibly crushing you.  

It was his fault. It was all his fault.  

You didn’t remember walking outside the bathroom, nor did you remember walking up to him and slapping away the cup of water his hand held.  

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you barked at him.  

"I—"  

"I gave you one task. You had to wait until I gave you the signal so you could come in. Not guns blazing, not punching everyone that comes your way, not drawing everyone's attention to us. Your only fucking job was to wait for the distributor to show up and wait for my goddamn signal."  

"What did you want me to do? Just stand there and do nothing?" he argued.  

You were taken aback by his response. Part of you expected him to just let you scream at him and give you the same soft eyes he always gave you when you spoke to him.You weren't expecting him to snap back at you or to defend himself. 

Maybe if things hadn’t gone sour between you two, you would’ve listened to what he said, and in return, he would’ve listened to you. But the anger was too strong to be subdued.  

"I wanted you to follow the fucking plan."  

"He was about to torture you!"  

Bucky's thoughts returned to the old factory turned whorehouse.The way you had purposefully gotten caught and how they had tied you to an exposed pipe line. He could still hear the sound of the man’s hand smashing against your cheek.  

"I can handle myself! I told you guys to stay put until the distributor was there. He knows I’m after him, and this was our only chance to catch him. And now he’s god knows where and Sam got fucking shot."  

A heartbeat passed before Bucky came close to your face. His big frame towered over you, and his breathing hit your face.  

"You’re fucking delusional if you think I was just going to let anything happen to you."  

You scoffed, "Oh, so now you care?"  

"I’ve always cared."  

You pulled away from him, your eyes rolling at his pathetic words.  

"Sure."  

Perhaps it was the fact that you had been in danger no longer than a couple of hours ago, or maybe it was the heat of the fight that had left some residues on him. Whatever it was, it made Bucky courageous enough to reach for your arm.  

"Look at me."  

You swatted him away.  

"Don’t fucking touch me."  

But this time he wasn't going down without a fight.Not again.  

"I know I was an asshole at the end of our relationship, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you anymore."  

A bitter laugh came out of you. All of this had to be some sick joke. "When you care about someone, you don’t treat them like that. You didn’t care about me, and you sure as hell didn’t love me."  

His hand tried to touch you again, and this time you let him. You were tired. Tired of fighting with him. You closed your eyes as soon as his skin came in contact with yours, his touch consuming all of your senses.  

You opened your eyes to find him staring back at you, the blue eyes that once hurt you shining the same way they did the first time you kissed him.  

"I did love you," he whispered into your lips. "I still do."  

His words burned you like someone had branded you with hot iron in the chest.Even after all this time, he could still hurt you, Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Why did he have to bring back the past you so fiercely tried to leave behind?  

"Don’t." Your lower lip quivered. "Y-you can't just break my heart and then come back into my life and just say you still love me."  

"I never stopped loving you."  

Those five words were all it took to tear down what little control you had over yourself. A year ago it would've broken you to hear them but now they only brought a deep sense of indignation. 

With a quick move, you pulled his hand away from you, your hands pushing against his chest until he hit the wall. You wanted him to hurt. You wanted to carve his heart out of his ribcage and throw it far away, maybe then he would understand what it felt like.  

"Where was your love when I needed it, huh? Where was your love when I had no one else? Where was your love when I reached for you every night but you were already gone? Where was your love when I begged you to love me, to be there for me?" Your hands were clutching his jacket, and your vision was blurred by tears."Where the fuck was your love when you brought that girl to your apartment?"  

Bucky never saw you like this, not even when he stomped on your heart with his indifference. Under the anger, the hate, and the surface indifference you showed him, he could see how broken you were. He could see how you were constantly struggling to put the pieces of yourself back together that he had torn apart. 

He hated himself for extinguishing parts of you. 

"I’m sorry."  

A lapse of judgment.  

That’s what you would tell anyone who asked you why you kissed Bucky that night. You would say that you had been blinded by the pure rage his mere presence would bring you. Or perhaps you would take the easy route and you would say that with everything that happened that night, almost being tortured and Sam getting hurt, you had acted in a primitive instict of searching comfort.  

The truth was different. You could lie to yourself and say that you didn’t needed Bucky, not after all the things he had done. You lied to yourself constantly when you told yourself you were over him. You also lied to yourself when you claimed that your one-night stands had fulfilled you in the same way that Bucky had. 

You couldn’t feel anything, not ever since you walked out of his apartment. You had tried different people, different cities. You had tried different alcohols and different drugs. You had tried anything that could help you fill the emptiness that had found a permanent home inside you. You felt nothing, not until you saw those cerulean eyes again.  

Your kiss was aggressive, your lips smashing against his with strength and your hands finding their place in the back of his head. It took a second for Bucky to kiss you back as he thought his mind was playing tricks with him. But after you pressed yourself against his chest, his body reacted on muscle memory alone, his arms surrounding your waist.  

It wasn’t what you expected, though. You thought that the specks of love that remained between you would be enough to bring back whatever it was that you were missing. Instead, you were met with the most intense hatred you've ever felt, mixed with the melancholy of what could've been. 

He tasted like the past, but he still hurt like the present.  

So you made a decision.If you couldn't bring yourself to love Bucky Barnes anymore, you would hate him with all that remained of your soul. You would hate him until both of you burned in the flames of your agony. You'd despise him until you'd ripped every part that matched the ones he'd so easily broken. 

"I hate you," you whispered between kisses. "I fucking hate you."  

Your words were daggers to his heart. His chest tightened, and his grip on you faltered for a second before he snapped out of it. This wasn’t about him. If you needed to tell him how much you despised him, he would gladly let you kill him with your words. It was the least you deserved.  

"I know," he mumbled against your lips.  

He felt your body guiding him through the room until the back of his legs hit against the couch where he would sleep. Your hands pushed against his chest, making him sit on the couch while you straddled his lap.  

Clothes flew across the room, and you found yourself tearing his shirt apart in two while he only pulled yours off.You'd worry about that later; right now, nothing was more important than feeling your skin against his. 

Your hands traveled over his chest, fingers grazing every part of his abdomen as you trailed down to his zipper. You palmed him over his jeans, his cock already hard, and you felt it twitch against the fabric with every touch you gave him. Groans left Bucky’s lips.  

"I hate you," you repeated as a mantra.  

He shouldn’t make you feel this way, but as you see his head going back when your hand opened his fly and found it’s place around his cock you felt your own desire pooling in your lower belly and the aching in your core became unbearable.  

With swift movements, Bucky got rid of his pants and his underwear while you remained on top of him. With your frame still covered by a black lace bra and your black tactical pants on, he couldn't help but feel exposed when he looked at you.Deciding he didn’t wanted to be the only one naked his hands went to the side of your hips in efforts to get you rid of the fabric but your hand swatted him away.  

Beg me, your eyes said.  

For a moment, he considered tearing your pants apart the same way you had done with his shirt. However, the seriousness behind your eyes warned him that he might end things too soon if his stubbornness got in the way. So he gave in.  

"Please, Sunshine." His hands gripped your waist, his hips grinding against your still-wrapped core, sending shivers down your spine."Please, let me see you."  

You relented, unbuttoning your pants and throwing them away with your panties. In what were the longest seconds of Bucky’s life, you unclasped your bra, finally getting rid of the last barrier your body held on to.  

You stood there, completely naked, staring at Bucky.He remembered the way your breasts felt when he held them. He remembered how soft your skin was. He remembered that if he bit on the skin of your neck, right where the jugular is, you would clench around him. He remembered. In the lonely nights when he needed some release, he would close his eyes and imagine your lips around his cock as he fisted himself in the solitude of his apartment. 

All those memories didn’t compare to watching you in the flesh, with hungry, hateful eyes on him as you walked back to straddle him again.  

His cock twitched once your legs fell to his sides, the heat of your body settling on his crotch. You sat on top of him, your wetness welcoming him once you lowered yourself. His length placed itself right between your lips, and a groan left him.  

"Fuck."  

Your hips began rocking in slow but sharp motions as he felt his cock coated with your slick. Slowly, you built up a rhythm that made both of you moan. His hands landed again on your hips, his fingers pressing on your skin in a way that was certain to leave bruises the next day. Your own hands gripped on Bucky’s biceps for stability, and you squeezed them every time you would feel him brushing against your clit.  

You felt amazing on top of him, but that wasn’t what made his heart pound against his chest.  

It was your eyes. Your eyes never left him, no matter how much pleasure you were pulling from both of you and how badly you wanted to roll your eyes as the coil inside of you tightened. Your eyes, which once showed him what love could look like, now looked at him with a simmering hatred he could not shake.  

His chest tightened at the thought of never seeing them again. The electricity that ran through his body was replaced by a deep sense of hopelessness, and the more he kept his gaze on you, the more it amplified. You must’ve sensed the change in him because your movements stopped.  

Broken eyes now stared at you with the ghost of tears in them. The anger that had driven your actions and your thoughts through all this had now subsided, allowing itself to mix with melancholy.   

I love you. I’m sorry. I miss you. His eyes said.  

I hate you. I’ll never forgive you. I wish I never met you. Yours answered.  

And in the middle of the lust that was taking place right on the couch, both of your hearts broke again.  

You pulled him back for a kiss that tasted of desperation and sorrow as tears fell from both your eyes. The saltiness of the tears bled into the kiss and mixed with it.Quickly, your hand guided his tip to your entrance. You needed him inside you like a person lost in the desert needs water. You craved him with every cell in your body, and it tore your heart apart.  

"So tight." He moaned in your mouth as you sank into him.  

The stretch of his length burned as you forced yourself to take him fully. It hurt, and even with your arousal completely covering him, you weren't prepared to take his thick length.You didn’t care though, you hoped it would make you forget your heartbreak. Bucky tried to stop you as he felt you struggling to take him in. His hands held your waist, but you shook your head before you started bouncing on him.  

You didn’t want love from him. You didn’t want tenderness or care. You wanted roughness. You wanted strength and aggressiveness until the only thing you could feel was the ache between your legs.  

The super soldier gave you what you wanted.  

Bucky’s pace was brutal, his cock hitting the sweet spot only he could reach. The sound of his hips colliding with yours filled the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing through the hallway outside.In the back of his mind, Bucky was thankful Sam was knocked out with meds so he could be spared from the obscene orchestra your bodies played.  

The pain quickly turned into pleasure. Your walls hugged him tightly, each thrust carried a strength that left you breathless. At some point your legs had given in, the only reason why you kept bouncing was the snap of his hips pushing you. He didn’t let go of you though, instead he pushed you against his chest in an embrace that surrounded you tightly.  

Your head rested against his while your hands stayed on his chest. The sadness that mixed with the pleasure numbed everything else except for the bubbling up of your release. It pained you to admit that no one else could make you feel like Bucky, you had tried to find someone who could replicate what his touch could do for you, but no one ever came close.  

You hated how much you missed him and how much you needed him.  

"I wish you would’ve stayed dead." you panted. The poison behind your words shredded his heart. He knew you were saying it to hurt him, he knew you didn’t mean it, but the conviction behind it felt like a kick in the chest. "I wish we never brought you back."  

"Me too." he finally admitted.  

Bucky felt your walls constrict around him, and he could tell you were close. He drew you in for one last kiss, the kind that took your breath away. The type of kiss that was a solace in a world of agony. The type of kiss that meant a promise that carried forever.  

You tightened around him as you came, and his thrusts slowed down as he rode you through your high. As you closed your eyes, more tears fell from the corners, so he reached out to wipe them away.Once you had recovered a little, his brutal pace came back, this time chasing his own release. You brought your lips to kiss his neck, feathery, soft kisses, and he felt his balls tightening. He was so close.  

He tried to pull out so he could fist himself to the end but you didn’t budge, instead whispering in his ear.  

"Inside."  

He came harder than he had done in the last year. You felt his cock twitching inside as he covered your walls with his cum, the mess between your release and his own dripping out of you. You kept bouncing on top of him, making sure to return the favor by guiding him all the way through the end.  

You stood up, the feeling of emptiness making you shudder when his cock left you, and his cum started leaking out of you. You turned to go find something to clean yourself up, but his metal hand stopped you. He guided you back to the couch before he walked towards the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back with a towel, and he positioned himself right between your legs.  

He cleaned you up just like he had done for so many years before.His other hand caressed your thigh as he made sure to wipe everything. And just as he always did for years, once he finished, he kissed your inner thigh, a couple of inches away from your pussy.  

Bucky threw the towel to the floor, he would worry about it in the morning.As for right now, the only thing he wanted was to hold you close. So he did. He thanked the couch was big enough to fit you both as you layed together. He pulled the blanket he used to warm himself every night over you, and his arm surrounded your waist, his grip making your back settle against his front. His left hand traced lazy circles over your stomach while the other was used as your pillow.  

For a few seconds, both of you allowed yourselves to reminisce in the past. He kissed the top of your head as you snuggled against him like you usually did. And as you felt his warmth behind you and inhaled his scent, everything seemed to be alright once again.  

Except they weren’t. Bucky wasn’t the man who made you feel secure anymore, and you weren’t the woman who trusted him with all her heart. Both of them belonged to the past.  

"I don’t love you anymore. I will never love you again." you broke the silence.  

Bucky held you tighter as his heart broke once again.  

"I don’t deserve your love." He whispered. "But I’ll still love you forever." 

Then  

Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy.   

It wasn’t all bad, though. For many years you had been together, three and a half to be exact, where you could imagine a life with. Three years where there was no one you trusted more or preferred to be with.Three years that were the happiest of your life.  

Those were a few of the reasons why he had asked you to marry him. And those were also a few of the reasons why you had said yes.  

You had told yourself at the beginning that you couldn’t get attached to him for the safety of your heart. It didn’t matter that his touch felt like home or that during the times you spent apart, his eyes would be the only comfort you would find in your dreams. He would bring more heartbreak than love.  

Oh, how right you had been.  

Unfortunately for you, the heartbreak would come in a way you couldn’t have prevented.  

The snap came and took him away from you. One second he was standing next to you, the next he was turning into dust that flew into the wind. The last thing he had said was your name and after that half the population was gone.  

The years went by in a blur. Between nights filled with drugs and alcohol and days spent cramped up in your apartment, you were wallowing in the type of sadness that the rest of the population could understand. You kept your ring in your finger, it reminding you that what your memories craved for were real.  

Bucky had been real.  

With his departure, he had also taken your heart. 

After a particularly bad night where you crashed your vehicle into a contention bar, Tony had taken it upon himself to help you, offering you a home close to his secluded one. You took it, not because you wanted to get better but because you wanted solitude. But if life had taught you anything about Tony Stark, it was that he was as stubborn as they come.  

Every morning he would bring you breakfast along with a visit from a certain little baby that always wanted to be held by you, and sometimes she would be able to bring a small smile to your face. With time, the little baby turned into a little girl that would ask for a sleepover every once in a while, and you would gladly accept the offer to allow Tony and Pepper a night alone.  

Things got better. You visited Steve and Natasha at the compound and even allowed yourself to go in missions of your own, as it turned out not even The Snap could make criminals take a break. You even went to one of Steve’s depressing support group meetings, never returning for the next one.  

You couldn’t be strong all the time, though. Some nights, when the pain was so strong that it drowned you and the grief was too powerful to keep at bay, you would find yourself staring at the hundreds of pictures you had taken of him. Most of them were of you together, but there were a few you took when he wasn’t looking. The sunset behind him as he breathed in the clean air of Wakanda, or the small smile on his face as he tasted the food he cooked for you both.Even when he was reading some of the books he kept under his bed and a few wrinkles would show on his forehead as his whole focus remained in the text, he always looked beautiful.  

With time, everything felt like a routine. Waking up alone, eating alone, going outside alone. Sleeping alone. Everything seemed to be stable, not good or bad, but just stable. You were sure this was the best you could do, or at least the best it could get.  

That is, until a ray of hope appeared. 

Time travel was the answer. Taken as a whole, it seemed like something out of a science fiction film, but it made sense.Bring the stones back and along with them everyone that had died. Surprisingly, it had worked, everyone that had been snapped away came back just as they had left. It should have been a moment of joy. It should've.  

The thing about hope is that it comes with a price. Natasha and Tony were the price to pay.  

Steve left shortly after.  

You understood him. You understood why he left everything and everyone behind to go live a life with the woman he had always loved. You would be a liar if you said you wouldn’t have done the same if you were in his position. You understood why he did it but it still hurt to know you weren’t enough of a reason to stay and live a life together.  

It seemed like you were on a streak of losing people. Wherever you turned, more people kept leaving your life. Wanda was gone, turned into the madness that grief could bring. Thor left to save other planets that needed him. Bruce... well, you weren’t sure where Bruce was, but he didn’t try to contact you.   

Everyone was gone but Sam and Bucky.  

Bucky. Your Bucky. The man you had spent the past five years crying for. The man who made you the happiest you'd ever felt.The man who felt like home.  

But he wasn't your Bucky any longer. 

This Bucky didn’t kiss you with the same tenderness he did so many years ago. Instead, he'd barely move his lips once yours touched his in what you'd call a mediocre peck.He also never initiated a kiss, it was you who always reached out for him.  

This Bucky didn’t held you at night. Instead, he'd turn around, his back to you, and even if you reached for him between dreams, he'd guide your hand back to your side of the bed.Some nights, he would even choose to sleep on the floor of the living room when he thought you were asleep. It was as if the thought of touching you seemed appalling to him.  

This Bucky never hugged you. 

This Bucky never talked to you with love  only with annoyance and indifference.  

This Bucky never woke you up with breakfast.  

This Bucky never tried to sleep with you.  

This Bucky never said I love you.  

Because this Bucky didn’t love you.  

But you held hope, foolishly. Every day you tried to talk to him, show him in every possible way that you were still here with him. Every day you tried to make things better between you, you poured your heart and soul to try to fix what you didn’t even know was broken.  

Things got worse a couple of months later.   

As it turned out, time had taken a toll on Steve’s body, and one night he went to bed and never woke up. You found it a bit ironic the man out of time had finally run out of time.  

His funeral was held on a sunny spring afternoon. People from all over the world showed up to say their final goodbyes to the man who had saved the world so many times. Friends, people he had saved, and heroes paid their respects to him. The first super soldier had finally been put to rest.  

After everyone had cleared out, you went back to drop one last token for his departure. It was a picture of the both of you. Steve’s arm hung over your shoulders while both of you held a couple of beers. It had been the first time you had seen Steve outside of work related situations. That was the beginning of your friendship.  

As you got back to his tombstone, you saw Bucky standing in front of it. His eyes were void of any expression, and he didn’t seem to be talking to Steve’s grave either. Bucky was just there, staring at the place where his best friend was buried.  

He didn’t seem to notice when you stood next to him, nothing in his body gave any signs of acknowledgement. You gave him a couple of minutes before you reached for his hand. You knew that, even if he didn’t show it, he was in great pain. He had lost his last connection to the life he had once lived.  

You wanted to be there to help him through his pain.  

The contact only lasted a few seconds. Your touch surprised him, as he had jolted once your skin grazed his own. He turned his head to the side to give you a glare that you’ve never seen before. His eyes had been filled with pain, as you guessed, but they also carried hatred and disdain. He must’ve seen your expression, because a second later his eyes changed to a neutral expression.  

"What are you doing here?" he muttered.  

The shock of his stare lingered in you for a moment, but you quickly returned to yourself, a friendly smile on your face."I came to leave a little parting gift."  

He hummed in acknowledgement, not sparing another glance at you as you put the photograph against the headstone, right in between the dozens of flowers that decorated it. Both of you stayed silent after that, the sounds of the birds and the faint rumbling of cars were the only sounds keeping you company. It was peaceful. It was good. Just the two of you enjoying a moment's calmness in silence. 

For a few moments, you felt comfortable next to him. The first time in months since he came back. But good moments like that never lasted long.  

Without notice, he turned around. Long, desperate strides guided him towards the exit of the graveyard. He wanted to create distance between you and him, find somewhere that was as far away from you as he could be. You felt how you were losing him.  

But you fought for him, even when he seemed to not deserve it.  

"Bucky." You called for him. He stopped in his tracks, but he didn’t turn around, so you took that as a sign to keep going. "I know you’re hurting right now, I am too, but I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you."  

He didn’t answer for a few seconds, and you thought you had made a breakthrough. Maybe this was the time when things went uphill. This was the little push he needed to start healing and perhaps to try to rebuild the bridges that had burned. This was the little thread of hope you'd hung up on.  

You were wrong.  

"You have no idea how I feel," he said before leaving.  

That night you came back to your cabin, and Bucky’s things were gone. The only thing left was a note that rested in the middle of the bed.  

I found an apartment in the city. I need space.  

You didn’t see him for a couple of months after that. You considered tracking him down but ultimately gave up as he had asked for space. He needed time on his own, and you could give it to him. You would give him anything he asked for.  

You kept your word until Strange came to visit you, announcing news about Wanda. She was dead.  

You barely remembered tracking down his address or making your way there. It wasn’t until you were facing his door that you realized what you had done. He asked for space but in that moment, you couldn’t give it to him. You needed your Bucky.  

Knock, knock, knock.  

It was late in the night, and you could hear the TV going on in the living room. He had to be home. After a few minutes without an answer, you knocked again, but the only thing that welcomed you was silence.  

"Bucky," you called. Your voice was broken, you tried to fight the tears away, but saying his name broke what little self-control you had left. "Please open the door."  

You rested your forehead against the door, finally allowing yourself to feel everything you had been pushing back ever since the fight with Thanos. Pain, grief, loneliness, hatred, sadness, despair. A cocktail of emotions ran through you in an overwhelming way and seemed to want to drown you.  

"I know you’re in there." You cried. The tears that ran down your face landed on the floor. "I just— I know I said I could be strong for the both of us, but... I need you."  

You knocked on the door again, this time with the side of your fist. The desperate sound of your knocking bounced through the walls of the deserted hallway.  

"Please Bucky, please open the door. Wanda is dead." Your own cries stopped you from talking, the hole in your chest seemed to get bigger and bigger with each passing second. "Nat, Tony, Steve, Wanda. All of them are dead, and I—I can’t. I can’t keep losing people. I can’t lose you."  

You couldn’t do this alone, not anymore. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.  

"I love you. God, I love you so much. I know you want space, but right now I need your love, Bucky. I need you to love me like you used to. Please love me." You begged.  

And you waited. You waited for what seemed like hours, but it probably was just thirty minutes until you accepted he wasn’t coming out.  

 You left with half a heart that night.  

Two weeks later, you came back to his apartment, ready to demand an explanation. Your love for him was strong, but you needed him to talk to you. You were ready to fight for your future. You were ready to fight for your love.  

"Bucky!" you yelled as you knocked aggressively. "Bucky, open the fucking door!"  

The door didn’t take long to open. It surprised you, your confidence and anger faltered for a second. This was a sign, perhaps it was him being ready to fight for you too. This was him showing you he still loved you.  

Except the person who opened the door wasn’t Bucky.  

It was a girl. A short brunette that was covered by Bucky’s black T-shirt and nothing more.  

"Hi."  

You wanted to scream. You wanted to burst into tears. You wanted to burn the world and leave everything behind. You wanted to die. But the only thing you could do was stay there and stare at the girl.  

"Umm, Bucky is not here." She said awkwardly, your intense stared made her uncomfortable.  

"Do you know where he is?" You questioned her. The words came out rougher than you intended, but as the heartbreak and despair set in, you couldn't care less. 

"No. I, um, when I woke up he was already gone." She pulled the hem of the t-shirt down in an effort to convey her nervousness, but it only infuriated you more. "Are you a friend of his?"  

You wanted to laugh. God, this couldn’t be happening.  

"Yeah, of sorts."  

"I can let you in so we can wait for him, but I have to leave in like twenty minutes."  

"You can’t call him?" you asked, bitterly. You knew Bucky had gotten a new phone but he never gave you his number.  

Her face blushed before she answered. "No, uh. We met last night, and he didn’t give me his number.  

"Oh."  

You didn’t know what would be worse, if he had seen this girl ever since he left your cabin or the fact that he had a one night stand with a random girl. It didn’t matter, though, Bucky Barnes had crushed your heart.  

The girl, whose name was Clara, kept her word, leaving minutes later as she had to go to work. She seemed like a nice girl who had no idea the man she had slept with was engaged. And perhaps in another world you would’ve been nicer to her if your heart hadn’t collapsed in on itself when she opened the door. Maybe she was a little naïve, as she let you stay inside the apartment so you could wait on Bucky. She had also asked you to give him her number, the digits scribbled on a piece of paper.  

You broke down the moment she closed the door behind her. You thought of trashing the place, breaking every piece of furniture he owned, and burning all his clothes in a pit in the middle of his living room. You imagined yourself hurling the stupid leather jacket he seemed to be fond of lately.You also thought about settling for burning everything to the crisp, wanting to see the look on his eyes once he saw his apartment consumed by flames.  

You didn’t do any of those things, though; instead, you waited. This time, hours actually went by, the once bright morning turned into the darkness of the night, and you never moved from your spot on the couch, not even to turn on the lights.  

Bucky came back to his apartment around 11 p.m. When he noticed the apartments' lack of lightning, he felt relieved not to have to deal with the girl he had taken home the night before. By the looks of it, she left a while ago.  

He turned on the light before taking of his jacket, placing it on the coat hanger next to the door.As he walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, he tossed his keys on the counter.He had to change the sheets on his bed and do laundry tomorrow. The glass was half full when a voice behind him spoke.  

"You have a nice place here."  

The glass dropped from his hands into the kitchen sink. His head snapped quickly towards you, finding you seated in the middle of his couch. He turned off the sink, before making his way toward you. You couldn’t be here, not today of all days.  

"How the hell did you get in here?" he barked.  

He didn’t mean it like that, not in the way it sounded. He wasn’t angry at you being inside his apartment, he was scared. Scared that you had arrived at the wrong time and seen something you weren’t meant to see.  

He finally stood in front of you and saw it. Your nose was slightly puffy and red, like you had been crying for some time. Your shoulders were slumped, defeat washing over your posture. But the thing that hurt the most to see was the pain behind your eyes. It wasn’t the normal type of pain of loss or grief as you had experienced these past months. No, it was something else.  

It was the pain of heartbreak and betrayal.  

It couldn’t be.  

You couldn't have been here when she was still in his house. There was no way, life could not hate him this way. It had to be something else that broke your heart, he had hurt you many times this past couple of months, and today was probably the day it all crashed down. It had to be that.  

"Clara let me in."  

No.  

"Nice girl, she left her number for you."  

You knew, you had seen the girl who was apparently named Clara, he didn’t really remember it. Bucky knew he had to do something, anything that could save your relationship. Perhaps if he begged you not to leave him, to let him explain everything that had been going on with him, and if he spent the rest of his days making it up to you, then you would stay. Maybe you could forgive him.  

He didn’t do any of that, though. The same thoughtless attitude washed over him like it had done ever since he came back. It was as if his brain forced him to act this way in order to protect his own heart in the long run. 

Instead of doing everything he could to fix this, he shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.  

"How long?" you asked. Bucky could see your eyes watering as you tried to keep yourself together. He hated himself. "How long have you been cheating on me?"  

His mouth answered without his permission.  

"Does it even matter?"  

Maybe he was right. Maybe it the answer wouldn’t change the way you were feeling; if anything, it was bound to hurt you more. But a part of you wanted to know the truth, to extinguish the other half of your heart.  

You didn’t budge, so Bucky finally answered, not before rolling his eyes. "She’s the only one. I met her yesterday in a bar. "He shrugged. "It just happened."  

You knew the answer, yet it still hit you with the force of a thousand bricks. He admitted it. He fucking admitted it and he didn’t even show a single morsel of remorse. There weren't any apologies or begs, no promises, or big romantic and sorrowful speeches. You could feel your own love being smothered, the flames that had once brought so much warmth to your soul were replaced by cold and emptiness.  

Bucky Barnes didn’t love you anymore. 

Now  

Bruises covered your body as well as new injuries that would probably give you more scars. Dirt and blood slid down the drain, exhaustion settling in as your muscles relaxed. The droplets of water fell against your body, washing away everything that had happened today.  

You found the intel, you knew every single name of everyone involved with the heinous experiments you were chasing.  

You had almost died, one of the guys Bucky and you had cornered, had a bomb attached to his chest. You tried to stop him, your gun pointing at his head, but you were too slow. The explosion shook the entire structure, causing a chain collapse of the floors around you. 

Bucky had jumped to protect you, his body acting as a human shield, deflecting some of the impact.His flesh arm had a large metal piece embedded in it, as well as some burns on his back. The explosion had knocked you both out of the air, and the resulting wave had thrown you both across the room. 

As you tried to shake away the confusion and the ringing from your ears, you felt his hand find its place along your face and travel to your stomach. As he scanned you, blue eyes looked at you with fogginess but also deep concern. 

"You ok?" he had whispered.  

You nodded, but your mind was still fuzzy, perhaps you had hit your head, but you couldn’t remember much.  

But you remembered the desperation. You remembered everything crumbling apart as you tried to make your way to the exit. You remembered Sam’s voice screaming through your earpieces to get the fuck out of there. You remembered Bucky's hand always keeping you safe, guiding you through the clouds of cement and smoke.  

You also remembered how Bucky’s steps faltered before collapsing. Neither of you had noticed he had a second piece of metal scrap buried between his ribs. If he had removed it, his enhanced healing would have taken care of it, but the extenuating movements had caused damage to his lungs, bleeding, and a lack of oxygen, causing him to pass out. 

You remembered screaming for Sam’s help, begging him to help you save Bucky. You remembered the tears falling from your eyes as you tried to pull Bucky to safety, begging him not to die, begging him to wake up. You remembered the fire catching up to you, it’s warmth burning your skin. You wanted to kill Bucky, you would be happy if you never seen his face again, dance on top of his grave as you celebrated the end of his existance.  

Then why were you fighting so hard to save him?  

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. You can’t do this to me!"  

"Bucky wake the fuck up!"  

"Please! I can’t lose you like this!"  

Fortunately, Sam came for you, him and all his Captain America glory had saved both of you, his wings protecting all three of you as you carried Bucky outside. You had barely gone a few steps ahead when the building finally set one last explosion, ending with everything on it's way.All three of you landed on the floor with a thud as the shock wave reached you.  

You focused your attention on Bucky's wound, which was already healing, but his lack of response worried you.His breathing was barely existent, and his heartbeat was decreasing. You had straddled his lap and began performing CPR on him while asking Sam to go fetch the adrenaline shot you stored in the vehicle. You had punctured Bucky's chest with it, and after a few seconds, he had woken up.  

You remembered clinging to him as he tried to sit straight, the desperation finally gone from your body.  

The body behind you wrapped his hands along your waist, pulling you out of your memories and spreading the soap he had covered you with. Bucky's fingers traced all the way down your body, removing every trace of stress. 

After everything happened, Sam told you to go back to the safehouse while he met with Joaquin to try and start locating people with the intel you had gathered. You thought about fighting him, but one look at Bucky and any fight you had left was done.  

A knowing look from Sam told you this wasn’t just to let both of you rest and get cleaned up. It was a second chance.  A second chance at the talk you had avoided to had with Bucky ever since that night you slept together.  

You drove back to the safehouse, and once you had gotten inside, everything crumbled apart inside of you. As you reached out to Bucky, your tears had fallen, your hand lingering in his fleshy arm, right where his wound was.His hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing the stream of blood that fell from your eyebrow. In the silence of the room, no words were exchanged, but both your hearts understood.  

Just for today, you would allow yourselves to comfort each other.  

His lips peppered kisses along your shoulder as he cleaned you, his lips sometimes finding your neck or your lips when you would press yourself against him. As you spread the shampoo over his head, your fingers massaged his scalp with the tenderness he had missed, his eyes closing every time you hit the right spot. 

After drying yourselves and changing into new clothes, you both layed on the bed, covered over the head with the thin white sheet you had. You faced each other, blue eyes meeting yours. Your fingers found his face as you traced along every crevice and line you hadn’t seen before. Bucky appeared to have aged years in the time you hadn't seen him, but he remained as beautiful as ever. 

Your heart ached in your chest, and you couldn’t fight it anymore. You had denied yourself the other feelings that remained inside of you other than hate and betrayal, but today, as death seemed to call for both of you, it was clear you didn’t want Bucky Barnes to die. A part of you hated him so deeply you weren’t sure you would be able to stop, but no matter how strong the hatred was, you were sure a part of you still loved him.  

However, that part of you was broken. Battered and bruised to death by his own doing but it was still there. It was locked inside the thousand-foot wall you had built around it to keep it safe. Refusing to ask questions, refusing to talk to him, and refusing to admit the pain you were in. But in doing so you hadn’t given yourself the opportunity to heal. To move on.  

So you allowed yourself to feel and to talk. For both your sake and his. 

"Why did you do it?" you broke the silence. His breathing faltered as your hand retracted back to your side. "Why did you hurt me like that?"  

Bucky struggled to find the right words. You were asking him the same question he had asked himself for many, many nights. He asked himself that question when he wouldn’t reach for you at night. He asked himself that question when he didn’t open the door for you.  

He asked himself that question when you walked out of his life.  

You deserved the truth. The whole, unapologetic, heartfelt truth. So he gave it to you.  

"The first time I came back to myself, after fighting Steve in the helicarrier, I realized the world had moved on without me. My plans, my family, and the people I knew were all left in the past. They all moved on without me, everyone was gone except for Steve. I had a plan, after the war I would go back and find myself a beautiful girl to marry." A sad smile posed on his lips as he reminisced. "I wanted the white picket fence and three kids package. Cookouts with my family and friends while I was still a war hero. But all of that was gone the moment I woke up in a time that wasn’t mine. My dreams were gone."  

He paused before reaching for your face, his eyes closing before opening again, tears streaming down his cheeks."Ever since I woke up, I was a man drifting in a time that wasn’t mine, in a life that wasn’t mine. I didn’t have any dreams, or aspirations other than to survive and perhaps discover the truth. Nothing made sense to me, not until I met you." His thumb wiped away the tears you didn’t know they were falling. "You were the very first person, aside from Steve, that was kind to me. You talked to me, listened to what I had to say. You showed me what this new world was about, how to survive in it, and above all, you never doubted my innocence. It wasn’t because you knew me like Steve did, or because he had asked you as a favor. You were my friend, the very first I made when I was lost. And along the way, you turned into more, you were my new dream. I fell in love with you, and suddenly it didn’t matter that I wasn’t supposed to be here, or what it could’ve been because with you, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere."  

A sob escaped you, his words burning your heart, branding them with the love you once felt for him. The heartbreak and the pain came once again, but it felt different. It was comforting in a way that scared you, terrified you. You knew he had loved you once, but you had stored those memories far away where they couldn’t hurt you. Because it was easier to tell yourself that Bucky had never actually loved you than to think he had loved you and had still betrayed you.  

"But no matter how much time passed or how loved or comfortable I felt, I was still scared. I was terrified. Terrified of the same thing happening again. Every day, I'd tell myself, 'Something is going to happen, something is going to take me away from you, and when I come back, another hundred years will have passed.' And it did happen. When Thanos snapped me away, I came back, and to me only seconds had passed, but for you it was five years. Everything had changed again, even you. There was this sadness that seemed to have nested behind your eyes every time you looked at me. And every time I looked at you, I could see how much you had suffered because of me, it was my fault, and I couldn’t do anything about it."  

"It wasn’t your fault." You tried to argue, but his words interrupted you.  

"I felt like it was. I felt like I must’ve had some sort of curse that would always take me away from what made me the happiest, and in return, I would hurt everyone around me with it. I had died once again and the world kept going, once again. And I tried really hard to fight those thoughts, but it was as if a cloud of darkness would whisper to me that I didn't belong here anymore.That everything had changed once again, and it would happen again and again and again until I finally died. And I didn't know what to do; it was as if this voice was drowning me, washing away every ounce of happiness I had left inside me until all that remained was anger and resentment." 

His voice had broken, as had his ability to hold back the tears.He had buried this for so long, too embarrassed to say them aloud, to admit how he had messed up everything because he was afraid.He wasn’t the man who had sworn to protect you against everything, he was a coward. A coward who had let his own fear hurt you in ways he could never fix.  

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." Bucky kissed your forehead. "You didn’t deserve any of what I did to you, and I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for doing that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, I’m sorry I pushed you away when all you did was trying to help me. I’m sorry I slept with someone else. I'm sorry I messed everything up because the truth is, you have been the best thing that has ever happened to me, past and present, and if I had to go through all of the pain, torture, and heartbreak all over again just to meet you, I would." 

You stayed there in silence for minutes. Neither of you dared say anything else that would break the silence. Both your hearts had been through a lot today, from the threats of death to the realizations of love and pain that had been confessed. But amongst the suffering and the torment, both of your hearts began to heal, and the pieces that had been ripped apart came back to where they belonged.  

You took his hands into yours, your lips kissing his knuckles. "I don’t know if I could ever forgive you for what you did." Bucky’s eyes closed in ache, he knew it was a possibility, but it still hurt to know there was no hope, but your words stopped him from spiraling. "But I would like to try."  

Hope. A tiny silver of hope. 

"Do you think there is a chance for us in the future?"  

You considered it. Your mind and your heart still pulling towards different directions but none of them letting you decide. Would you be willing to risk your heart once again for Bucky Barnes, or has the damage been too great to be fixed and covered? "I don’t know."  

"That’s ok. I'm not going to ask about it again unless you want me to." 

He kissed you one last time. His lips still had a subtle taste of smoke and burned, but above it was something overpowering, something both of you felt as he deepened the kiss. You both tasted redemption and forgiveness. 

Forever 

"Thanks for helping me."  

"Don’t thank me, I’m only doing it for the beer."  

Bucky and you chuckled at his poor attempt at a joke, your footsteps echoing in the half-empty apartment. A couple of seconds later, your mattress landed with a loud thud in your bedroom, making you happy to be finally done. You threw yourself on the bed, Bucky following you close behind, his heaviness bouncing you off. You turned to your side, resting your head on your hand, and he replicated your pose.  

It had been a year and a half since you decided to bring Bucky back into your life, and things had changed dramatically since then.You stopped doing solo missions and moved to New York, where you split your time between assisting Sam and Bucky with their shenanigans and volunteering at the woman's shelter Sam had connected you with. 

In the beginning, it was difficult to adapt to a tamer lifestyle than the one you had lived in the past year, but listening to all those women, the things they had been through, showed you that sometimes the thing people need to start healing is to have someone along the way.  

Bucky and you had become friends, just as you had been when you first met. It took time to get back to the beginning, but soon you found out how much you needed him as a friend, not a lover or a soulmate but just someone with whom you could talk. And, over the course of the many nights you spent talking, forgiveness found its way into your heart.You didn’t forget the past between both of you, but along the way there was understanding and care.  

"How was your date?"  

You shrug. "It was ok, not that great to be honest." 

During this time you had gone on a couple of dates, even went out with a guy for a couple of months, and since you and Bucky were ‘just friends’ you thought it would be uncomfortable to talk to him about them. But he had developed a habit of surprising you, and as it turned out, he was okay with it. When you asked why he was okay with it, his response surprised you. 

"I love you, I’ll always love you. But if you need me as a friend and nothing more, then I’ll be your friend."  

Your heart was still reluctant about him, after all, pain is a thing you can hardly forget. That had been the reason why you had tried to find someone else. Someone who could make you laugh as hard as he did, someone who could make you blush with just a cocky smile, someone who could calm you down and make everything better by simply holding you close at night.Someone who could make you happy. But all of them failed, because they weren’t Bucky Barnes.  

No one ever compared to Bucky Barnes, because after all the lies, heartbreak, and death surrounding you, he was still the only person who felt like home.  

Blue eyes stared at you and all you could feel was your heart racing. He was the man you had once loved and he had betrayed you, but time had mended your heart. The part of you that hated him was gone, and instead the love you felt for him came back, maybe not as strong as it once was but it didn’t matter. Your love was willing to build itself up, your love was willing to let him in one last time.  

"Ask me" you uttered. Your voice was so quiet that you thought he wouldn't hear you, but his puzzled expression told you otherwise. 

"What?"  

Your hand grabbed his, your thumb was drawing circles on his skin.  

"Bucky, ask me."  

Bucky’s heart stopped. A part of him had always told him that you would never want him back, and he couldn't blame you. He had hurt you in so many ways that he could never forgive himself. He had been sure the best he could have from you was friendship, and he had made his peace with it. Having you as only a friend was better than not having you at all.  

But you were giving him an opportunity, and he would be damned if he didn’t take it.  

"Would you—" he paused, clearing his throat.The nervousness inside him erased his ability to speak. "Would you like to go out for dinner? As in a date?"  

You made it seem as if you were thinking about it, but he didn’t worry about it. He knew your answer already.  

"Yeah, I guess I can make time for one date."  

You smiled. You gave him your biggest, most genuine smile in a long time.He smiled too.  

Loving Bucky Barnes hadn’t been easy. But as you both lay in your beds, his hands caressing your face and new hope brewing between you, your heart told you that this time would be different. 

He wasn't the same tormented man from another time you'd fallen in love with, and you weren't the same broken but hopeful girl he'd loved with all his heart.You both had hurt each other, but you had also grown, both of you in your own ways, and yet destiny had brought you back together.  

This time, neither of you was scared. 

This time, loving him would come as easily as breathing.

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[caplanbuckybarnes]

Gotta Go My Own Way (Logan Howlett)

Summary: He will not waste time begging for your affections anymore.

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 348

A/N: yeah, im on a roll today lol. i had a bit of time this morning before I have to get ready for work and with the prompt list I have, well, the ideas keep on coming. And since everyone is havigna HArd On for Wolverine right now, I couldn't resist myself.

Want to read on ao3 instead?

Want to be tagged in my writing?

The rain poured down relentlessly, the cold seeping through Logan’s jacket, but he didn’t feel it. Not really. Not with the weight of the moment pressing harder than any storm ever could. His claws were out, glistening in the dim light, though he hadn’t made a move to strike. Not this time. His breath came out ragged, heavy, but controlled. Barely.

"I ain't gonna do this anymore," he muttered, voice rough, like gravel beneath boots. His gaze, intense and full of pain, locked onto the person in front of him.

Their eyes met, but they didn’t speak. Maybe they couldn’t. Maybe they didn’t know what to say.

Logan let out a sharp breath, the rain streaking down his face, though it did nothing to hide the hurt in his eyes. He clenched his fists tight, claws retracting with a painful snikt sound, more for himself than anything else. More of a reminder.

“I’ll never again beg for your love.” His voice cracked just slightly, despite how hard he tried to keep it strong. The admission cut deeper than any wound he’d taken in battle, the kind of hurt that never healed.

He waited. He didn’t know why. Maybe some part of him still expected something. A reason, an explanation, something to dull the ache of rejection. But the silence that followed was louder than any roar he could’ve unleashed.

The world seemed to stop for just a moment, the rain slowing in his mind as he took one last look. One last attempt to understand.

Then, without another word, he turned, his shoulders hunched against the weight of a love that would never be returned. The sound of his boots in the rain faded into the night, leaving only the storm behind.

[patchiko]

You’ve been given AK Jason so much love thx ☺️ if it’s not too much… what are some of AK Jason’s comforts? Does he have comfort foods? 🥘 Does he like the sound of the rain? 🌧️ Naps on the couch ? 🛋️

Thx 🥰

ill give this man love anytime💟

and its never too much anon, i love writing for him and yall!

Comforting Ak!Jay

(IM SO PROUD OF THIS I 💟 MY AUTISM)

(ngl this also just turned into my character analysis of Ak!Jay’s psychological gymnastics from Comics ((AK Genesis & Batman: AK)) and games) (still wrote the comfort shit tho)

hc, but i dont think any jason todds like the rain. it reminds them too much of the time he was a kid, didnt have a place to stay and went to sleep cold and wet

or when he was still young and with his family, his apartment would get flooded.

BUT ANYWAYS—

alone, i dont think jason can comfort himself very well.

beats himself for it when its over, drops him back into a spiral

just very much not healthy

HOWEVEER with someone is very different ,,

I Ramble Abt Jason Todd

post writing this, i feel like that one tweet thats like, ‘i never realized she was holding a plate of corn in this scene.’

Ak!Jays spirals or episodes come from two things, his self-esteem or self-worth, along with his lack of self-identity

Ak!Jason (Post/During AK) has a very hard time with his self worth, it solely stems from wanting to prove people wrong about himself. he obviously doesn’t like being perceived in the wrong way.

Ak!Jason (Post/During AK) says he’s move pasts his traumas, yet his identity and reasoning is constantly rooted in them, leading to so much contradictory dialogue and mental FUCKING GYMNASTICS.

ak!jay juggling if he wants to be loved by batman/batfam or wants to end it

i think he often ponders if he was better off being killed by the joker, or if he can really be redeemed from his actions as Arkham Knight by helping Gotham as Red Hood.

and if it’s enough for the people around him or someone to accept him.

if he can truly ever be loved

he has a lot of crisises about his identity and purpose more often then not b/c he cant find a reason for either besides his own anger and approval addiction.

, his biggest fear is losing, being worthless, and unwanted.

his constant drive is winning and proving himself as the best.

it causes his always feeling the need to prove himself, just so that hes wanted.

full pic is him on hid knees begging alfred for help,, my baby—-

the first introduction of his internalized self-deprecation is with his father, other then the Arkham Knight Annual

though he rejects this “truth” in the Annual, showing his determination to prove himself more then what Bruce and the Joker idealizes him to be, I think its a good mirror into Jasons mind and what really makes him start cracking

Ex. , his biological father canonically telling him he was a loser growing up, and his mom seems to personify/objectify Jason as gothams gravitation keeping them in gotham.

another example is the way he is talked to throughout scarecrows psychotropic

throughout the comic and game he goes between or showing a desire for a connection with bruce and praising joker for his upbringing, then chastising them.

its very clear jason has an identity issue, with him isolating himself because he believes he is too broken (game dialogues), his need for validation stemming from his childhood, his fear of abandonment, and overall internal dilemmas of wanting a connection or not. obviously hes not good with working out his emotions on his own without doing considerably impulsive things.

jason wanting to be his own person v jason wanting to be a better person for the people in his life

He see’s the place he was tortured as a rebirth for him, along with his plan to destroy Gotham and Bruce.(AK: Genesis)

This only comes from his desire to want his own separate identity, by ending these cycles of Bruces actions and Gothams nightmares he also believes that he will be truly free.

his only true identification with himself is anger and resentment, being built, gravitated, and broken by anger. feeling like hes always losing or lost, and his desire to just win something and therefore be wanted

okay to stop a fuckton of more rambling jason todd, abandoment issues, jealousy/obsession issues, need for connection, validation, relationships, self-destructive isolation, brainwashing induced perception issue, intense mood swings which also cause perception issues.

i guess it could try to be argued that Jason doesn’t actually want validation bc he got over the psychotropic; but i disagree with the way he constantly talks about being underestimated and feeling like he has to prove himself throughout the comics and his dialogue with Barbra in game.

i also want to make it clear that throughout the ak!comics he does help civilians so it does really have morality for other people. He does separate Gothams Gravity from the people, and claims the worst of the worst (villains and such) are the people who succumb to gotham.

(im only stopping bc im on mobile and couldn’t put anymore pictures)

im so upset.

theres so much i didnt get to talk abt

Ok Actually Comforting

so its pretty god damn hard to comfort this dude, he’s a chronic over analyzer, could probably turn anything and everything you say against himself or you, and yet would crave validation and intimacy.

which makes him a bit of a trip,, but i love him. so.

a lot of the time you’ll have to go with his flow

if its really bad he’ll isolate himself, he feels like he’s letting you down by breaking in front of you. He can’t let you see him as weak because to him its a liability for your relationship.

as well as the fact that his perception becomes very extreme/warped when very emotional. he’ll can range from believe your lying to him, to he’s not worth that kind of comfort and he’s wasting your time.

it takes a lot of patience for him to accept that he isnt an inconvenience to you and you do actually care

overtime, a lot of fucking time, he’ll slowly come around to this. instead of leaving for days or weeks at a time, Jason will leave for at most a day or two, but around midnight he’ll be home craving your presence.

he cant be alone again, he really doesn’t wanna be alone again, he needs to make sure you don’t wanna leave him.

probably just goes to sleep facing you, or holding your hand if hes feeling especially mushy.

he’d be so quiet, having the internal battle of leaving you or letting him feed into his desire of just having you around him.

In his words, needing a home. feeling safe, and warm. (I LIED I DELETED TWO PICS TO SHOW THIS)

jason thinking of alfred as home>>

Jason needs that in a partner! Someone who is warm to him! someone who makes him feel wanted or needed! Someone who makes him feel safe!

I think if you catch him just as he gets triggered/begins to spiral, you can help him not crash out.

Being over the top mushy with him isnt gonna work, he needs someone to ground him and be 100% with him.

sometimes he doesn’t need to talk or just doesn’t want to, again presence.

but acknowledging him every now and then to make sure he knows your not brushing him off or forgot about him.

when you’re in a closer relationship he definitely just wants you in his arms, needs to hold you close.

Home-cooked meals with him, justing going about your life with him, making him feel wanted, making him feel acknowledged.

i think he’d open up every now and then, but i think he’s also still a self-assured person who needs guidance at the right time. to just be sure he’s on the right path and youre with him.

one of his triggers is his own jealousy, accidentally making him feel like he’s replaceable or him believing you’ll get tired of him.

he needs so much reassurance.

just be there with him, guide him, love him, make sure he’s on the right path.

he needs a lot of things, sometimes its naps, sometimes its food, sometimes just to be in your arms, sometimes to help you cook, sometimes watching you work, sometimes he’ll have you lay your back on his chest and read with him, sometimes he just wants to fall asleep with you, sometimes he wants to cry in your arms, JUSDHRIDJDJDISO JASON TODD COME HOME WE MISS YOUUUU

HES MY HIGH MAINTENANCE GF

this was so satisfying to write i <3 jason todd

rq/inbox is open !! if you just wanna yap or wanna request somethin’ go ahead!

[4pfsukuna]

could you write smth for long curly haired reader who isn't doing the best mentally so she isn't ty taking care of here hair and geto who has a crush on her offered to help her with it? i just know he'd be soft and gentle.hed even look up how to take care of curly hair to help make his girls (he wishes 😔) hair look the best it ever has (so she can ask him to keep doing her hair for her) i need him down bad 🙏🙏

omfg girl. GIRLLLLLL. This may have just healed my writers block🥹

Suguru Geto was the neighborhood heart-throb with his dark volumtious hair, midnight black eyes that were so dark they nearly looked purple his tall muscular frame (his thighs were drool worthy when he man spread) and his hands that could probably… no definitely palm your whole face. Between that warm honey coated laugh and the smooth calm tone he always heals in his voice he had every girl and woman in a 10 foot radius always swooning over him. Not that he noticed his eyes were always on you and when you werent around his mind was thinking if you ate today, how your day was, what new hobby you picked up what conditioner you used? The last one was a bit unhinged.

Last week he made a complete fool of himself when he seen you in the shared hall of your apartment and finally gathered up the courage to ask you on a date but it started off so well. 

“Hello sweetheart, how was work?” He grins down at you waiting for your brown eyes to meet his and he feels his heart stutter when you do with a soft smile.

“Hey Geto, it was alright, glad im off though im starving” you answer” as you fumble with your house keys pushing some of your long curls out of your face with a single finger.

He can feel his insides exploding, this was it you just put the ball in his court for a lay up or whatever silly basketball analogy Satoru used when he told him about you, now was his chance.

“Oh? Theres a new family owned restauraunt that just opened nothing to fancy. You should go” he blurts out faster than he has time to think about it and his tongue instantly feels heavy in his mouth. His jaw feels hinged and hes clenching his mouth and fist so tight he doesnt know what will break first his teeth or the skin on his palms from how bad his nails are digging in.

“Yeah, i think i will. Have a good night” you wave and hes so in his own head he doesnt realize the way the smile doesnt reach your eyes from either dissapointment of him not asking to go together or the long day of work is something he spends the next few days pondering about once he gets in his apartment.  The only thing hes glad about is that neither Shoko or Satoru was there to embarass him endlessly. He always had a smooth slightly arrogant demeanor but when it came to you words fealt heavy in his mouth, his hands got clammy and his eyes could not leave you what so ever.

The next time he sees you hes shocked. Its around midnight after a full day of listening to anxiety by meg thee stallion on repeat loud enough for him to hear it in his living room that he begins to get worried. Its when he sees you in a dark blue hoodie blanket going to take out your trash that he stops you.

“Hey sweetheart, i can take your trash for you. You shouldnt be taking it down this late anyway” he reaches for the bag not expecting you to pull away.

“N-nah its cool, i got it” you voice cracks and he finally looks at your eyes seeing them puffy and red which makes him fall into defense mode. 

“Who did it? Ill kill them” and that wasnt exactly what he wanted to say but fuck it its not like he didnt mean it and it earns a chuckle from you. Ok, finally he was doing something right.

“Everything and everyone” you pout and he feels his heart soften at the helpless look of defeat on your face. If only you knew you had a man that would actually burn the whole world down in front of you.

“I dont have enough matches for the whole world but if you give me enough time i can run to the store to buy more and burn the it all down for you” he rubs his chin earning a smile this time.

“Maybe not the whole world” you start with a slight giggle and his heart starts doing that weird thing again “It's just… my anxiety has been in overdrive this week and my job has rumors about letting some people go and i think its me since i've been talking about being home sick and my hair stylist canceled my appointment which ruined my week because not only does she not know when she’ll return but my hair products are nothing more but empty containers that won't get shipped here until next month. NEXT MONTH Geto, i cant just put anything in my hair and nobody here can help me” you pout feeling your bottom lip tremble as you fight back tears not wanting to cry infront of your neighbor you needed to hold onto some shred of dignity— hes already watching you in this snuggie with kuromi socks on.

Your face is quickly found in his chest as he pulled you in for a hug and you nearly start sobbing, its not your fault when people hugged you when you were sad it only made you cry more.

“And then i forgot to go grocery shopping” you finally break the hot tears running down you face you wait for him to push you off instead he just holds you tighter resting his chin on your head and rubbing your back. His embrace kinda felt nice and this was the only thing that felt right in your whole horrible week you were going to bask in it.

“I can help you with your hair” Geto blurts and you wipe your eyes to make sure you heard him correctly.

“You what?” Your raspy voice questions looking up at the man whos tall enough to nearly reach the hallway ceiling.

“I can help you with your hair” he repeats, using a thumb to wipe some of the tears from under your eyes, his palm cupping your cheek to keep you in place. Completely unbothered by the fact that any of your other neighbors could walk out and see you two like this he’s just happy to have you this close.

“No shade but what do you know about kinky curly hair, plus im not trying to let anyone experiment on my hair let alone a man” you cross your arms but you don’t pull away from his embrace which he selfishly enjoys.

“You think this long healthy hair comes from using a body wash and shampoo 2 in 1? I actually take pride in my 8 step hair routine” he tells you reaching up to pull his hair from its bun letting his long obsidian locs cascade down over his broad shoulders the coconut scent hitting your nose.

You stare at him for a second debating how wrong this could go letting this man play in your head. I mean worse case scenario it gets tangled and you big chop after your hair crisis(amongst the several youve had throughout life) youve always said ‘fuck it im going to just go bald’ and maybe you finally spoke it into existance. 

You see the hopefulness in his eyes and know this man is fully convinced he can do your hair and will spend all night convincing you if he has to and you're not sure if it's his resilience or your lack of sleep that has you finally crack and let out a long sigh.

“I promise i can do it just give me a second to toss this trash, grab my products and i'll be over in a second” he promises with an excited grin grabbing the trash from your hand and taking off down the hall.

“And thats not all… they were roommates” you gossip with him as he runs the detangler through your hair after parting it into four sections. He was on the last section before having your lean back to begin the wash process and maybe he did know a thing or two about hair. Gently guiding your head back to the running water you hear the CLICK of the bottle opening before you feel the cold substance on your scalp.

Your eyes instantly close when his fingers begin massaging your scalp his nails feeling so heavenly against your roots.

“Oh my God Sugur your fingers feel so good” you nearly moan and he has to stop for a second, pretending to look for your detangler comb to not lose his composure. he cant even help his pants getting slightly tighter, he was honestly so down bad for you. 

He rinses repeats detangles conditions detangles again with very little instruction from you and honestly it was because you had began dozing off quite a few times enjoying the physical touch of another human while he is the physical embodiment of happy to be here.

He notices the song you had on repeat is also off instead choosing Sade to listen to which was alot more calmer. Its when he begins humming along that your brows scrunch and he panics assuming that hes hurting you.

“What you know about Sade?” Youre soft voice pokes making him chuckle and damn does he have a nice laugh.

“Im a man of culture” he pokes your temple and you jokingly pretend to attempt to bite his finger your goofyness slipping out easily around him. “Besides im washing your hair obviously im very cultured” he adds in and you cant argue there.

An hour later you find yourself rambling about all your favorite things favorite music, hobbies and embarassing stories of you from the fourth grade which he counters of embarassing stories of him in high school with him and his best friend satoru who he promises to introduce you to.

“And i'll section the braids up here into smaller parts So if you want a middle part or side part you have options” he tells you absentmindedly and you crain your head back to make direct eye contact but he gently grabs the side of your neck using his thumb to push your head forward.

“You'll get neck pain if you do that sweetheart” he commands softly in a way that makes your spine tingle and you rest your head against his large thigh.

“Have you done this before?” You ask your mind instantly floating to another woman and while there weren't too many girls that looked like you in japan with a hair texture like yours he was entirely too good to never have practiced this once.

“Yes” he answers honestly and you force yourself to push down the thoughts that make your stomach drop. “Though they usually fall asleep by the time i get to conditioning their hair”

And it's like you can hear the record scratch and the peaceful bliss you're in ends abruptly.

“So it's nice having someone to talk to up until the end” he tells you before finishing a braid and you feel it fall mid back before he shuffles around. There's a bright light gleaming on the side of your face and you turn slightly to see a picture of twin girls, one with dark hair and one with light brown, almost blonde hair.

“They're so cute, how old are they?” you ask taking the phone in your hands to get a better look as he swipes showing different clips from what looks like a trip to the aquarium.

“11, thats mimiko and nanako usually they are here with me but they are with uncle Satoru for the summer making his pockets hurt as they say and spending time with their little cousin megumi” he tells you before he stops sliding landing on a picture of him satoru the twins and a dark spikey haired little boy that looks angry at Satoru.

“He looks like he absolutely hates satoru” you giggle resting your head back on his thigh which earns a laugh from him.

“Despises him, actually thinks Satoru is so annoying but he loves him… deep deep deep down inside his tiny little body since he adopted him. We knew his dad… real piece of shit actually” Suguru admits using a bit more force on your hair, its not painful but you could tell he hated Megumi's dad more than Megumi hated Satoru. 

“You must've had them really young” you pry slightly which he snorts at before using the comb to detangle a section of your hair and adding in more product. 

“No, I met them at an old job. They were in a bad environment and I took them in. I just couldn’t watch them go through that horrible system it's not a place for innocent little girls” he tells you his touch becoming so featherlite you almost forget he's doing your hair 

“Yeah it makes sense you are such a girl dad. Definitely dilf material” you ramble going back to look at the pictures zooming in on how happy the girls look.

His eyes widen and breath gets caught in his throat he nearly has to stop what he's doing to focus on you again.

“Dilf? At Least take me out to dinner first”he jokes trying to calm his heart before you lean your head back once more making eye contact with him.

“How about the new family owned restaurant you told me about? You could even bring the girls I’d love to meet them” you smile at him watching the blush build on his face.

“R-really?” He stutters, not expecting you to ask him out on a date… shit was it a date?

“Yeah they seem to play an important role in your life and I need to make a good impression on them as well… I mean unless I’ve been taking your staring, heated looks and your kind offer to wash my hair the wrong way?” You tease with a sly smirk and he can feel the flush running through his entire body.

“Oh so you've just been letting me embarrass myself in front of you… this entire time” he exaggerates, holding a hand over his mouth in faux shock.

“I thought it was cute” you shrug watching his reactions before he tilts your head back forward using neck cramps as an excuse.

“Hey suguru?” You yawn, leaning your head back against his thigh and it was just the perfect head rest as his fingers began massaging through your scalp again.

“Yes sweetheart?” He asks slowing down for a second and you begin enjoying, a bit too much, the way he sounds calling you that.

“Thank you for washing my hair and styling it” you smile closing your eyes and shoulders dropping slightly and he grins at the signs of you falling asleep. He's seen it too often with the twins but he had to admit he may have been enjoying this more than you, acts of service being his love language that much was clear.

“Anything for you” 

[ppnuggie]

can you do a haedcanon of a fem human just drinking SO MUCH COFFEE like cup after cup an she is litery shaking in her seat her entire body is like a maraca an she she swerves bar so can u do headcanons for this for first aid, perceptor, brainstorm, chromdome an cyclones just teacting to this madness

　　　　　　LOST LIGHT x fem reader

　　　　『　first aid ,, brainstorm ,, perceptor ,, chromedome ,, cyclonus ,, female reader 』

　　-> reader who drinks too much coffee and gets really hyper

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, crack ,, magnus is forever suffering

　　— here you go !! :3 tysm for requesting !! tried to make it funny 🫡 hope you enjoy it <3 i loved writing this one but be warned as i dont drink coffee nor rlly know much for the side effects or smt from drinking it 😭😭 even though im literally working at dunkin rn and they only rlly got coffee

- first aid

| • he'd be worried at first with the amount of coffee you've consumed ,, having learned about humans and other things concerning them incase of an emergency

| • in this case ,, itd seem the knowledge he learned wasnt too helpful

| • bouncing all around the medbay and just hyper in general was quite a pain for first aid to deal with

| • but he didnt want to be too rude to you ,, and gently coaxed you into spending all that energy of yours running laps around the edge of the medlab where you wouldnt get too hurt

| • though when you finally wear it off ,, he'll be quick to scold you ,, holding his digit in front of your face and waving it side to side in a 'no no' motion before taking you to his habsuite and laying you down for a nap

- brainstorm

| • he honestly doesnt know better okay ? you could tell him anything and suddenly he wants to put it to the test

| • so when you said you could drink a bunch of cups of coffee and wouldnt bat an eye ,, he was immediately like bet and then that led to the current situation

| • perceptor is facepalming and immediately making brainstorm take blame for encouraging you to do this ,, because now theres a hyperactive human running around the lab

| • i mean you're practically flying around with how much coffee youve drank ,, hell you could probably beat blurr in a race

| • official you wouldnt say that out loud because lord knows some of his fans to be a bit crazy and would immediately be on your case saying "no you wouldn't !!" and maybe a few death threats involved as well

| • dont mention it in front of brainstorm either because hes already calling blurr to set you up for a race

| • hes no help ,, dont ever tell him your ideas or encourage his crazy ideas unless you wanna end up in magnus's office ,, having him scold you like a dad does to their child who drew on the walls and is trying not to laugh at the situation

- perceptor

| • thanks to brainstorm ,, you chugged too much coffee than your body ever really needed ,, and with perceptor as your not-so-official-but-official-in-his-mind-protector-slash-guardian-slash-alien-robot-boyfriend-slash-fun-killer he just sighs and takes you out the lab

| • he doesnt have the patience to deal with any acidic spills from you bouncing off the walls left and right

| • nor does he really need you getting hurt in any way shape or form

| • lets just say its an awkward trip to the medbay to see if ratchet has anything to help with your situation

| • and when he comes up empty handed ,, percy resorts to scolding you whilst the caffeine starts to wear off

| • it taught you better than to listen to brainstorm again because bro was yapping at 100 words per minute you swore he couldve talked faster than blurr at that point

| • bro was an absolute chatterbox just yapping and yapping that you fell asleep

| • never again would you do that ,, or think about doing that because the headache afterwards when you woke up was so not worth it

- chromedome

| • he also doesnt know any better ,, but he's definitely more responsible than brainstorm is

| • he'd know to at least keep a lot of caffeine or high sugar products out of your reach ,, just hiding it on your top shelves or above your cabinets like parents do with their kids' halloween candy

| • though when you accidentally made too much coffee ,, and didnt really feel like wasting it ,, you drank it all in one go ,, or well multiple big ass gulps

| • and then rewind walks in on the scene and sees how hyper you are and is honestly thinking youre sick with some make-a-person-crazy-illness-virus-disease-thing that he swears is somewhere in his database

| • and now chromedome has to play dad and parent you the whole time

| • bro probably put your ass on a leash ,, locking it in so the rope only goes so far and just stands there as you run around

| • this is what he gets ,, he thinks to himself ,, its the last time hes putting something so low in your reach again

| • at this point ,, hes just gonna store all your unhealthy and junk food away in a desk in his habsuite

| • he'll leave you fruit and vegetables but if you want coffee ever again youre gonna have to behave really good to get it

| • and its only a spoonful ,, as a little treat

- cyclonus

| • so you just trying to show and answer tailgates crazy ass questions that youre not even sure where he got them from

| • he probably got them from his ass at this point ,, asking if the coffee gives you super powers and you have to explain thats not true before he spreads lies around

| • and if that happened ,, you shivered at the thought of magnus banning your coffee aboard the lost light

| • that was pure trauma to even think about right there

| • anyways you made too much ,, and instead of storing it away or pouring it down the drain ,, tailgate dared you to drink it all

| • and well ,, momma aint raise no pussy but she did raise someone who makes bad decisions

| • because the moment you get your spurge of energy tailgate runs to cyclonus and tells him all about it

| • bros going on and on about how youve lost your mind and he thinks youre gonna die and cyclonus had like 600 heart attacks right then and there

| • he busts in like hes the damn swat team ,, door kicked down and pieces of it flying everywhere as you're running around like a wild banshee

| • he's looking for the demon and meanwhile youre out here acting like a damn demon ,, almost frothing at the mouth from how insane you are from the coffee

| • lets just say it makes magnus ban tailgate from ever daring you to do anything ,, bans you from having your coffee ,, and bans cyclonus for ever kicking down a door like that ever again because it was so unnecessary

[dilucsfav]

have you ever made a fanfic of the reader being a dom to people who are least expected to be a sub, example is dottore since people think he's a dom or even zhongli?

NO IVE ACTUALLY NOT REALLY THOUGHT ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THIS?? well i have but never acted on such deed (no shame in the sinning game)

I had lots of fun with this! ive never written for some of these characters before so this was a challenge :) PLEASE TELL ME IF YALL WANT A FEMALE VERSION, THERE ARE SO MANY DOMMY MOMMY CHARACTERS I COULD WRITE ABT

also,,, should i do this with very sub/switch genshin men, except them being dom to the reader instead?? like for example kaeya, tighnari, xiao, childe, scara YES SCARA IS A FUCKING SWITCH DONT EVEN ARUGE WITH ME

idk y’all should let me know anyways here’s your guys’ meal of men tonight

dom reader x genshin men hcs & scenarios (ft. dottore, zhongli, cyno, alhaitham, diluc, dain, ayato)

warning(s): LOTS of nsfw,,, actually mainly that tbh LMFAO

Dottore

at first, he'd only let you toy w/ him cuz he thought it was cute and he could easily tease you about it later

but shocker... you actually end up flustering him in the process. dummy fooled himself tbh

actually he was quite surprised that you were able to suade him with your words and body language

"Oh, doctor... don't keep me waiting...!" you'd moan and cry, grab his shirt collar and yank him to your lips, teasing his throat with your thumb and giving his body glances

made his little act crack SO fast

you'd easily get some neck kisses in while he's dazed, his flustered face staring ahead as his hands hesitate to wrap around your pretty hips

bro is high key into biting?? like definitely would allow you to squeeze a hickey or 2 in

oh, youre a big sweet talker?? good, use that to your advantage cuz you could REALLY tease this harbinger through facial expressions and super good fucking persuasive language

^^the tone of your voice... mhm that's what makes him crack

his throat between your fingers and a smirk on your lips as you kiss the tall, flustered man. literally he doesnt know what to do LMAO

HE'D COVER IT UP TOO LMAO CUZ BEING VULNUERABLE IS TOO EMBARASSING FOR THIS DICK FACE

every time you try to bring it up he'd instantly deny his reaction

^^"I was not flustered. I was just allowing you to have some fun."

dw doctor daddy, we all know ur a fucking dirty lier

call him a good boy, see what he does

Zhongli

yeah so- this man probably folds so easily over you

spoiling this big baby with kisses will result in his blushing mess of a face. trust me.

"My dear Zhongli, hush. Please let me do this for you."

^^barely takes any begging from your part. he'd allow you to spoil him any day

secretly just loves it but shh you dont know that <3

every kiss and peck and hhhhh will just make his blush grow

bonus points if you include inappropriate touching

"im the geo archon" this, "im rex lapis" that...... but how about we talk about his moans when you pull his fucking hair?

(or the crack in his voice when he's begging you to do the nasty w/ him)

^^ or his whimpers when you give him hickies?? he'd ABSOLUTELY be into marking, and you cant change my whore ass mind

stop cuz when you fluster him he instantly becomes so submissive its literally so funny

he would literally convince you with his fucking noises HES SO VOCAL JUST LIKE ITTO

(actually now that i think about it, the only geo character that wouldnt be vocal would be albedo? god hes so fucking hot i need to write for him soon

you being all cute n shit is enough for his breath to be taken away. hes so so in love w/ you hhhhhhhhhh

Cyno

cyno is literally so fucking daddy he makes me-

your actions would fluster him. i dont think he'd ever admit it, or be super vocal about liking it, but he'll never try to stop you (cyno is such a manwhore i'd fuck him so fast yall dont even try me)

yall ever thought about cyno's STRONG love for riding? no? hahah,,,.............

well i fucking have.

^^he would just lay back and let you ride him omfg me next pls

^^...perhaps small thumb rubs into the side of your thigh to encourage you to keep going. only if youre lucky ofc gotta be grateful

"Ah, Cyno... gonna be a good boy for me and let me f-fuck you? Hm, mm?"

phew the reader is kinda hot idk, kinda want them to dominate me instead of cyno

OMG STOP THIS ISNT NSFW OR ANYTHING BUT HE'D GET SO FLUSTERED N HAPPY IF YOU LAUGH AT HIS SHITTY FUCKING JOKES. HE'D BLUSH AND GET ALL NERVOUS AND HAPPY HELP

(this is random, has nothing to do with the fucking hcs, but yall seen that tighnari x cyno nsfw drawing on twitter where kaveh spends the night w/ them and tighnari is riding cynos dick with kaveh trying to sleep next to them? and kaveh is like "i wanna go home..." no? just me? k.)

would probably get flustered if you two are making out and you use tongue. idk cynos a little silly. definitely weird ass would let you spit and lick all over him and he’d thank you, what a manwhore

Alhaitham

who wouldve ever imagined a submissive haitham? not me for sure

he'd literally gasp when youre being dominant and teasing his pretty cock

chokes on his words. he'd probably let you choke him with a necklace, collar, or just something around his neck that you could pull

oh you thought i was joking? no.

"be a good boy, now, Haitham. only good boys get rewards. Do you think you deserve it?"

^^as you’re pulling the bidings against his neck

ok personally alhaitham isnt my type, but if ur taking submissive alhaitham...?... i may. MAY. SLIGHTLY jog for him

jokes on him, you'd get a such a rise and pleasure from his submissive ass

unfortunately... we have yet another victim of the big tiddy game. he'd totally want you to touch all over his man titties

^^not even just the boobs, he turns into an absolute slut when you praise his body

trace your fingers all over his abs and watch him get off so fast LMAO

when i die, i hope i dont get to the gates of heaven and get dragged down to hell cuz i like writing about silly little submissive men getting hard

I FEEL LIKE HE ALSO JUST WOULDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO?? SO WHILE YOURE DOING YOUR THING N SHIT HE’D KINDA JUST STARE AT YOU? flustered haitham at a loss for words, how cute 💔💔

hear me out hear me out. he’d praise you sm but in like a “please keep going im gonna cum” submissive type of way? you know what i mean?

ngh imagine his face getting all pathetic and weak god ngh im no slut for alhaitham but god

Diluc

I LOVE YOU DILUC, PLEASE LET ME CALL YOU MY GOOD BOY AND MY DARKNIGHT HERO AND ALL THAT CORNY SHIT

anyways

i rarely see any sub diluc fics i need to fix that soon BUT ANYWAYS

when hes being bossed around by you he'd become such a whore but in such a respectful way

HE'D ABSOLUTELY SAY "yes sir/ma'am" when youre the dom GOODDDKDKDD

he' take your wrists whilst he’s on his knees, staring up at you, waiting patiently for you to command him

im drooling as im writing these for diluc btw btw

he's not really used to such attitude but he wont question it in the moment CUZ HE LOVES THE ATTENTION

hear me out, HEAR ME OUT.

^^^ ….ive always headcanoned this, but diluc is definitely NOT a dirty talker (i strongly believe this fight me) or tbh i don’t think he’s that good of a talker during sex either way

^^^ but hear me out. imagine he’s like fucking you, but your fingers are holding the back of his ponytail to keep his face jerked forward, where your lips are just touching his ear lobe while you praise him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear?

ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING ARE YOU HEARING ME OUT, DONT TELL ME HE WOULDNT FOLD AND GET FLUSTERED FROM PRAISE

“Mmm, oh s-so good for me! Keep it going, ahh, just like that. That’s my Diluc.”

drooling sweating crying sobbing and

i think he’d totally be down bad for some soft dom… like you praising him, commanding him and being rough with him, but at the same time so lovingly and gently?? yes pls hes totally down

Dainsleif

y’all dain simps are some other type of down bad fr (that’s a good thing i promise)

absolutely another victim of loving riding. absolutely. HE’D BE A BOTTOM SO FAST IF THAT MEANT HE WAS ABOUT TO BE RODE FR

dain would whimper. im literally so right

this has nothing to do with him being submissive but why the hell would he sweat so fucking much during sex? idk i love dain but he looks so musty IM SORRY IT HAD TO BE SAID

not trying to dain slander im sorry im just nervous ive never written for him b4💔💔

call him a bad boy and naughty and tease him just a bit and he’ll fold

honestly i think teasing him just would make him so antsy, so on edge, so desperate and impatient, he would just get all whiney and flustered and such a manwhore

HES THE FUCKING DEFINITION OF MANWHORE LETS BE HONEST HERE

push him against the mattress, maybe even yank his hair a little and tell him he’s a piece of shit that needs to beg for attention and to be kissed by your gorgeous lips

stop if you gave him a blowjob and tease him until he can’t take it just imagine tears staining his cheeks while he’s begging you to give him a break

HE WOULD CALL YOU MOMMY/DADDY. HE ABSOLUTELY WOULD YOU LITERALLY CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND IDFC

he’d curse from overstimulation, prolly screaming “shit” 80 million times and “fuck” every time you chuckle or smirk at his desperate ass

“Oh, you want me to stop? When you begged and pleaded me to touch you badly, Dain?”

^^ i can imagine you listened and stopped, but then he’d get sad and beg for it again LMAO

such a mess for you and wouldn’t try hiding it tbh

Ayato

okay im actually so excited to write for him, ive never written for ayato but i’m not really into ayato im sorry guys (i like his sister though)

It kinda startled him a bit when your fingers grazed his chest and you pinned him against a wall—

would actually kinda fight it at first?? but he also wouldn’t after a while cuz he looks down on everybody and thinks he’s better than everybody else LMFAO live laugh love ayato

anyways,,, when you’ve got him between your fingertips, instantly you become royalty to him.

you are called either ma’am/sir, or you’re called my lady/prince/your majesty

^^or some shit like that idfk ayato’s fucking wild as hell

hear me out… ayato’s absolutely, 100%, definitely, into sucking your fingers

just imagine you’re going to town on his dick and you shove your fingers down his throat to make him stop crying so fucking loud

god and he’s totally into it pls— sucking on your fingers so good so that he’s quiet just for you🙏

“Hush up, Ayato. You don’t want Thoma to hear you when you’re this vulnerable to me, do you?”

bro would gag and cry and grip your body and and

he’d so rough, dirty, submissive, but just like diluc, in a respectful way

imagine brushing your thumb on his beauty marks and the little moles he has— his heart would skip a beat

dw, you and ayato wouldn’t have to worry abt bothering anybody cuz im fucking thoma in the next room

[arienic]

Can I request a Dottore x reader fic where reader says that they’ve contracted ligma and he genuinely ask “what is ligma?” ?

DUDE IM ON THE FLOOR LMAOOOO

I DON’T USUALLY WRITE CRACK BUT U KNOW WHAT . anon i like ur style so. here u go! if u ever see this then i hope u enjoy!!! this is set when dottore’s still a student at the akademiya i hope u don’t mind 😭 <333 

SPOILERS: Dottore’s real name (heavily implied by interactibles across Sumeru)

“Zandik!”

Your lover startles, gloved hand snapping away from the Khaenri’ahn machine sample he was about to begin tinkering with. His jaw clenches, irritation rushing over him, because every time he tells you not to interrupt him while he’s working, and still you continue to do so. Do you test him on purpose? Do you want him to snap?

(Do you not know of the horrible temper he possesses and how badly he wishes to keep it away from you, a person who chose to love him despite the repercussions—disapproving looks from Akademiya staff and students because of him, snide comments about your character because of him, dozens of relationships lost because of him—a person undeserving of the sharp words that will leave his lips when he does lose control?)

Zandik’s lips part, a request for you to ‘leave him be so he can focus’ already on the tip of his tongue. Hopefully this time, you will listen, he thinks, fingers tightening ’round the wrench in his hand. Hopefully this time, you will get it. Hopefully this time, you’ll stay away. 

When you rush into the room however, clothes wrinkled and red in the face, his mouth snaps shut and he sets the tool down immediately.

Your name comes out in a breath as you come to a stop in front of him, his hands hovering over your sides. “What happened? Are you alright? Why are you—why are you in such a rush? Is everything okay?”

“Zandik,” you start, eyes locked with his—then immediately fall into a coughing fit. You fan at your face, bent at the knees. “Sorry—sorry—just give it a moment—”

“Why’re you in such a rush?” he means to ask in a worried tone, but it comes out in a snap instead. He winces. You ignore it. “What’s going on?”

A finger raises above your hunched form. “One moment please. Just”—you cough again, wave him away when he steps forward—“one. Give it a second.”

He gives it a second. He gives it two seconds. You’re still coughing up your lungs by the fifth second. Zandik decides enough is enough and moves for the glass of water on his table, but you put up your hand again, give one last pathetic wheeze, then clear your throat and straighten up.

“I should join you on your runs,” is the first thing you say.

He rolls his eyes. “Why were you in such a hurry?”

You blink at him, unresponsive for at least three moments, then drop your shoulders. You look almost defeated, he thinks with a frown. He doesn’t like it when you’re sad—defeated. The same thing, really. Point is: why do you look like that?

“Zandik,” you say for the third time. “I was just at the healer’s—”

He frowns. “Sadiki?”

“Who else? But yes, so I was just—”

“Why were you at Sadiki’s? [Name], are you hurt? You look fine. Are you sick? What’s going on?”

“Zandik, he says I’ve contracted something.”

His heart drops into his stomach. No. “What? But it’s—it’s nothing serious though, right? You’re not going to—it’s not terminal?”

You bite your lip and duck your head away from his sight, hands twisting together.

“He says…” You pause, and he tenses, preparing himself. “Sadiki says I’ve contracted ligma.”

Zandik's frown deepens. Ligma? He’s never—is it terminal?

“What is that?” he asks. “Is it terminal? I’ve never heard of it, but if it is—is there any cure? I’ll find a cure. I’ll make you a cure, I swear—[Name], is it terminal?”

Your shoulders are shaking, face still turned away from him. Are you crying? No—but that would mean—

“Zandik,” you say shakily, and he takes your shoulders in his hands so he can pull you into a hug, “ligma balls.”

Ligma balls? He frowns. Ligma—ligma balls.

Ligma balls.

It hits him.

Ligma balls.

He forces you into his arms, turns you, and finally sees your face. It’s pinched. Scrunched up. 

In laughter.

You’re not crying. You’re laughing. Your shoulders are shaking because you’re laughing.

He shoves you away.

“Zandik,” you laugh, keeling over, “lovely—”

“Don’t lovely me,” he snaps. You laugh harder. “You—you fucking—”

“My sweetest darling—”

“Fuck you, [Name]!”

“Any time,” you only just manage to say between wheezes. He goes beet fucking red.

“Get out of my damn room!”

[girlboybug]

California Gurls

"warm, wet n’ wild, there must be something in the water."

or the one where joel hasn't been to california in god knows how long, but, one thing's for certain. he loves, california girls.

what’s playing 🎧 : california gurls by katy perry

pairing : joel miller x cali!girl reader

word count : 2k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUTTY HEADCANON LIST, age gap, public sex, light themes of exhibitionism, heavy petting, bikini fetish, is that a thing? it is now. unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampies, oral f!receiving, blowjobs, doggy style, riding, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, switch coded joel and reader, joel still leans towards top/dom, edging, forced orgasms, drunk/high sex

TRIGGER WARNINGS : umm i honestly can't think of any besides sex under the influence of both alcohol and weed but neither joel and reader are sober so its all around consensual as always :) if i missed anything plz lmk!

a/n : hi baes, im sorry that ive been slacking on uploading, ive been a bit burnt out, and i recently just got a job! so i fear my uploading may become more scarce but i will try my best to not let it get too bad.

ive had this au in mind for awhile n thought a headcanon list would b perfect hehe and i might make it a full fic in the future. i have a very special fic im almost done with and then a few more requests, thank u to those patient ppl who requested it, i promise i havent forgotten abt u!!! anyways sorry this is so long kjjdsjhdjsj plz enjoy and if there is anyway i can make my writing more inclusive pleaaase let me know!

joel didn't even want to be in california, but it was on the way to where him and ellie needed to go, and it was supposed to be just them two passing through, nothing less, nothing more.

but then, and of course there's always a but, on the journey both joel and ellie stumble upon a beach.

a beach with you.

culture shock for joel, like immediately. it's almost like the virus never spread to california, specifically their beaches. girls girls girls, all clad in the skimpiest bikinis and swimwear he's seen in years - or ever actually.

ellie convinces him to stay, just for a little while, and of course, he obliges, begrudgingly. the begrudging feeling and furrow in his brows slowly melts away when he's left to unwind in the warm sand, wandering eyes traveling across the beach's very underdressed inhabitants.

he lets ellie play in the water, he's more than content enjoying the view surrounding him in the sand.

you’re quick to notice the newcomers, instantly excited upon meeting new people

you make it real difficult for joel to maintain eye contact while he talks to you, he feels like he needs to physically hold his eyes in place so they don't drift down to the way your tits spill out your bikini top

he can smell the salty water, the semi sweet and unforgettable scent of sunscreen and a hint of coconut on you, and it's honestly mind numbing

and when ellie begs to stay in california for a bit longer than they planned, he surprises both himself and ellie when he jumps to say yes.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

ੈ✩‧₊˚

you make joel never wanna leave california. when it's dark out, with the beach left empty and void of half naked and sunburnt people, it becomes a space for just you and joel.

he loves fucking you right on the sand, loves setting up your bright pink beach towel across the sandy floors just to push your face down onto it, smushing your cheek until your pretty lips pucker and sob his name when he bullies the fat head of his cock into your fluttering hole.

it was so easy getting joel to crack and fuck you, it didn't take much convincing, if anything, it took more convincing on his part to not bend you over upon immediate introductions. but when he finally lets himself have you, it's all he ever wants to do

it was a massive shock that he could keep up with your stamina, he's like what, 56? and you're a 20 something year old full of life and energy and yet he was giving you a run for your money, almost making you tap out when he forces a third orgasm of the night out of you

he loves to drag his tongue across your skin, loves to sink his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder when he fucks you from the back, he loves tasting the remnants of the ocean that lingers on your skin

loves to sneak off with you behind the lifeguard tower, and he loves hearing you plead with him to give you some attention.

he loves to make you beg for it. he loves pushing those tiny bikini bottoms that cover not enough, just to lap and lap and lap, at your soaked cunt.

loves to eat it til you cry, he doesn't stop until you have to push him off. he loves it when he gets to flip you on your tummy, he pulls your hips up and buries his face in your pussy, licking you up until your legs shake and can barely keep you upright, but it's okay, he's always there to keep you in place.

you enjoy feeding his ego when you tell him he's the best you've ever had, which isn't a lie

but the way he forces your knees near your ears when you whine about how his cock is the best, and the way he plunges in so deep you can feel him kiss your cervix, makes you feel like you'd say anything else he wanted to hear to get him to keep fucking you like that

sometimes he just can't keep his hands off you, so he'll pull you away to the secluded part of the beach, and make you ride him

oh you love riding him. you like feeling the slight shift in dominance that occurs when you get on top. you love pushing his chest down, letting his back connect to the sand, tons of little grains getting lost in his hair when you keep him down like that, fucking him the way you like, using his fat cock like your personal toy. 

you don’t care about how sensitive he is, you make him take your tight cunt, he's the one that wanted this, so it's only fair he finishes what he started after all.

it's your turn to only get more turned on when you see his pretty brown eyes line with tears when you're fucking him through his second orgasm back to back.

you're insatiable when you're like this, drunk on his cock, and drunk on the power trip of being in control. you’re unable to stop your hips from rocking down onto his, guiding his fingers to your needy clit.

you lower yourself down to his chest, kissing his freckled shoulders, teeth grazing over his collarbones when he's whimpering in your hair, feeling too much everywhere but he doesn't tell you to stop, he takes everything you give him

loves pulling you into his chest when you've ticked him off, he keeps your back to his front, he spreads your legs and keeps them open with his ankle hooking around your's.

his strong bicep, that you love, keeps you in a loose chokehold, his free hand teasing your soaked cunt, bringing you to the edge of release just to rip it away from you. he loves kissing your sunkissed skin, feeling the warmth from being in the sun all day while he whispers for you to, shut the fuck up and behave.

his fingers circle around your clit, switching between that and burying his thick digits in your aching hole, scoffing when you sigh and whimper in relief when he pushes his middle finger in

doesn't let you finish despite your pleas and cries

he's so mean when he's mad at you. :(

he takes your bikini bottoms, pocketing them away and tossing you his flannel if you're gonna complain that much about being bare even though you're practically naked 99% of the time.

you immediately go home, throw his flannel over a pillow and hump it, trying your best to focus on the scent that wafts from his flannel, and lingers on your skin, pretending the friction you felt was from his fingers

you love getting back at joel, like when you're sitting at the tiki bar, and he's trying his best to converse with your friends

you'll snake yourself in his arms, hopping onto his lap while he sits in the barstool, accidentally letting your wet bikini bottoms soak his drying swim trunks

you also unintentionally squirm around in his lap, 'not realizing' you're grinding your ass right on his hardening cock, looking up at him in faux concern when he starts stuttering and stammering mid-convo

he grips your hips, his fingers digging into your warm skin, silently warning you

you don't heed his warnings, naturally, and instead hop off his lap, announcing to the group that you've decided to go for another session in the water, leaving him to awkwardly swivel his barstool away as to not flash his aching erection beneath his swim trunks to all your friends.

of course joel always gets the last word, he's pulling you away from the water, tugging you along with him by the rocks near the shore the furthest from everyone

little girl is gonna learn today, he mutters to himself, and you have to hide your squeals of excitement, knowing he's gonna fuck you stupid

and that he does, he makes you work for your orgasm, and that’s only if he feels nice enough in the moment 

he has you on your knees in front of him while he leans his back against the sturdy surface of a large rock, his hand resting behind your head while he grunts for you to take every inch of him down your throat 

s’what girls like you are good for, i’nt that right baby? 

your cunt flutters at his words, he always makes you tingly from just speaking 

when he’s about to cum he can never decide which is better, seeing your pretty face covered in his seed or watching you swallow it down without a single flinch 

before you, joel hadn’t done anything like this in like, 20+ years, so when you think you’re done, you’re not. 

his cock stays hard sometimes, and he’s more than willing to use you over and over until he’s satisfied, not that you complain, you’re always so pliable and compliant for him. 

he sits you up, pulls you into his lap and makes you put it in, loves watching his fat cock disappear into your greedy cunt, sucking him in and wrapping around him like a tight glove. 

holds your hips down and keeps you in place while he fucks up in to you, tugs your bikini top down and sucks on your chest, tongue messily dragging all along your salty skin, teasing your sensitive nipples with his teeth 

sometimes he’ll play nice, he’ll rub your sweet little clit, cooing and kissing at your neck and cheek when you collapse in his chest, rutting on his cock while he fucks you through your all consuming orgasm. 

buries his face in your neck to breathe in your scent when he’s close, whispers to you if you’ll let him cum inside, and you always say yes 

grunts a few utterances of your name when he cums in you, he slowly fucks his cum inside you, the wet sound from your grinding bodies turns him on more than he can even describe, addicted to how it feels and how it sounds 

loves to slowly pull out, and watch his cum leak from your hole, loves knowing he’s the first and only one, who gets to do that to you. 

and when he’s at your small place, with ellie being at a girl her age’s place for the night, he unwinds in your bed with you, passing a blunt back and forth

you give him sips from whatever fruity alcoholic drink you’ve concocted that night, giggling mid kiss when you taste the mixture of a mango pineapple drink and weed on his tongue 

and he always gets the munchies on nights like this, but not for food

loves devouring your pussy when he’s high, he’ll make his way on top of you, eyes ablaze, mouth parted with low breaths, eyeing you down like you’re his prey 

you try to tease him by closing your legs, but that’s fine, he can work with that

he grabs your ankles, taking them in one big hand, pulling you down towards him before he lifts your legs up by your ankles, smirking to himself when he pushes your panties to the side and dives in tongue first 

he can eat you out for hours, he’s just so hungry, and he can’t get enough of you

and when you’re shaking, trembling, struggling to breathe, he loves watching the violent jerk your body makes when he pushes his cock inside your messy and soaked hole, loves holding you down while you shake beneath him from your burning orgasms you just had back to back 

fucks you nice and slow, wants you to feel every single inch, and every single vein inside of you, wants you to know who’s fucking you this good

and when he can’t hold off on leaving california any longer, he tries to convince you to come with him. and in the time that the pair has stayed in california, ellie has grown to like you, and naturally joins him in his pleas, begging you to come along with them. 

and as much as you want to go along with them, you can't get yourself to leave. california’s your home, and it could be their’s too, you try to tell them, but you both know where the other belongs. 

when he leaves, he kisses you hard enough that you pray it bruises into your lips for the rest of your life. 

you make him promise to try and come by at least every summer, and with a wide smile, he says he can do that.