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#nope he's gotta die
makorragal-312 · 9 months
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REALLY hope that nobody snapped a picture of Clark and Lois kissing because if Sam ever reads the paper and sees a picture of his daughter being smooched in the air by the so-called "invader" on the front page, any reservations he might have had about going after Superman are going straight out the window.
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lil-vibes · 1 year
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dazai absolutely uses reverse phycology to flirt with chuuya and it has never worked out in his favour, but he'll be damned if that will stop him 😭😭 (it goes something like this)
dazai, whining: wow no one wants to put an end to my miserable existence !! woe is me !!!
chuuya, filling out paperwork or something: dont worry, ill take one for the team. gimme like 3 minutes.
dazai (using every braincell available to him): oh, WOW !! no one wants to take me out on a nice date and kiss me softly under the moonlight !!
chuuya, paying approximately 0 (zero) attention to him rn: damn. cant relate at all but good luck out there fr 🤞
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pink-anonymous-person · 9 months
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me playing pacifist route, reject everyone except for YB and trying to save our friends lives but Don keeps dying in my playthrough
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What if there was a scene where Jake got to talk to the real Tom, like when Eva is briefly uninfested in Visser?
It's like 30 seconds, but it does happen in #31!
"Get out of here, midget," he gasped, writhing. "Get out of here and leave me alone!" "No," I said, moving closer. "I… don't think so." And I didn't until I heard a deep, pulsing THWOK THWOK THWOK of a medevac helicopter...
And sure, Jake's only like 85% sure that he's talking to Tom because the yeerk is hurt and disoriented and not in charge at the moment. And it's also true that Tom has no idea Jake's an Animorph, so the moment lacks the poignant complexity of Eva talking to Marco.
But it's still something. It suggests that Tom's first concern, even when severely injured and half-drowned, is with keeping his family safe. It allows Jake a tiny amount of healing, after spending the whole book trying to figure out a way not to kill Tom and slowly coming around to the reality that there isn't a way. It shows that the real tragedy of war is the same as it's always been: that these two love each other but are caught up in forces beyond their control, and one's going to end up killing the other as a result.
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lifewithcake · 2 years
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yayyy got the aiming chestpiece on the first aglaia run, im happy i dont have to run this anymore this week -3-
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redxriiot · 2 years
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Close friend privileges from Kiri including the ability to sic him on anybody at any given time, no questions asked.
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“You gonna quit starin’? Or is it your plan to ogle at me all night.” Simon said, quirking a brow as he looked up at you from his laptop.
“Can’t I not look at my insanely attractive boyfriend?” You quipped, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Didn’t think it was a crime.”
“No, but it is a crime to distract me from my work.” Simon gave you a knowing look before looking back down to his work. “Give me just a bit, love. We can cuddle and watch a movie.”
You pushed out your bottom lip, effectively giving Simon the best puppy dog expression you possibly could. “I’ll simply die if I don’t get affection this very second.”
Simon glanced up once more, a coy smile lining his lips. “That so? Death by lack of affection?”
“It’s a relatively new affliction.” You murmured, moving closer to Simon. “But very deadly.”
“Well, we can’t have you dying on my watch, can we?” Simon asked, setting his laptop aside.
“Nope.” You gave your boyfriend a cheeky grin.
Simon chuckled, before patting his lap. “Then get that cute little ass over here.”
You quickly darted over to him, practically launching yourself into his lap before placing kisses across his face. “My savior.”
“Anything for you.” Simon smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Gotta make sure I take care of my girls affliction, don’t I?”
You let out an elated giggle as Simon began to pepper kisses along your exposed neck, his hands beginning to wander along the length of your body.
It didn’t take long for Simon’s work to be long forgotten- the only thing mattering to Simon that night was the love of his life, happy in his arms.
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more sunshine! gojo and grumpy!f reader pleaseeeeeeee I ship so hard
you got it baby
her rage keeps him going.
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summary: gojo satoru is trying to get his grumpy girlfriend's attention by flirting with another girl at a party. wrong move. pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader content warnings: jealousy, reader being a badass, gojo being madly in love, cursing, adult themes at the end, borderline toxic gojo satoru?
Masterlist
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"Baby."
"Baby."
"Baby."
"Sugarpie."
"Honeybunch-"
"Yes, Satoru?" You sigh, trying to finish the report you need to give Yaga. The frown deepens on your forehead as Satoru moves to sit in front of you, head leaning in, blocking your view of the paper completely.
"Sato-"
"Let's watch a movie." He blatantly says. "I'm bored."
You take a deep breath, pushing his head away. "I'm kind of in the middle of something, Toru."
Recently Yaga has been giving you more reports to fix. It's the kids' reports that are either too messy or filled with too many unnecessary details. It keeps on piling and piling and piling on top of your own work and you barely have time to do... anything, really.
And Satoru being Satoru, is not interested in paperwork. So you have to pick up his share as well, and it's sending you over the edge.
"Come on~" He whines, "It's been a while since you and I spend time together."
"We live under the same roof," You counter, "We go home and leave for work together every day."
He huffs, "It's not the same and you know it."
You sigh, promising him you'll watch something with him soon, but of course, you being busy, it gets forgotten. And it stays that way for a few days until the spring break party Jujutsu High decides to have.
You haven't properly talked to Satoru since then. You know he's upset that you've been so busy, but there's honestly not much you can do. You can only hope he understands and he'll be a bit more patient until things die down at work.
But of course, it doesn't happen that way.
You have to attend the spring break party just as Satoru is also required to. There aren't many people to begin with, but there are some new faces. New and pretty faces.
Stepping into the hall, you cringe at the sight. The higher ups are looking to create a new impression on the new students. It seems they want to look more approachable and 'trendy', seeing how the hard way didn't work so much with your and Satoru's generation.
It looks like a really bad frat party.
"What in the world..."
"Just drink." Shoko hands you a tequila shot while she downs one herself, "We've done more than enough these past few weeks, who cares what this party is about."
You drink the shot and cringe even more at the sharpness. "Oh God- this is horrible."
"It'll get the job done," Shoko chuckles, already downing her second shot.
Sighing, you scan the room to find Satoru. You figure with the spring break coming, you'll have more free time and you both can finally take a vacation together. As an apology for being so busy lately, you've bought tickets and you want to surprise him.
"Hey, have you seen Sato- Oh you've gotta be kidding me."
In your eyesight is Satoru talking very closely to a woman. She's not anyone you know, but from her body language, she's not anyone you want to know. Your eyes squint to assess the situation -- maybe you're overthinking this? Maybe she's just like Miwa, she just admires him- nope. That hand slowly trailing up and down Satoru's arm is not friendly at all.
And Satoru is allowing all of this?
"Shoko," You call her, "Let's go play darts."
"Uh-oh."
Satoru's doing it on purpose. He knows it will irritate you, and he knows technically he shouldn't be doing this, but you've been so busy lately and he's desperate for your attention.
Borderline toxic? Maybe, but again, he's desperate.
And it's not like he's interested in this girl who's talking to him about something she did the other day -- he can't even remember her name. But when he sees you shooting glares his way, a small smirk plays on his lips because he knows he's caught your eye.
He just didn't expect you to take it into such extreme measures.
One second you're sitting by the bar with Shoko, and suddenly there's a red dart that whooshed its way between Satoru and this girl. The dart is right in front of her eyes, almost scratching her nose.
"Oops," He hears the threat in your tone despite the smile on your face. "Looks like I missed my mark."
"By a mile..." Shoko mutters. The target board isn't even anywhere near where Satoru is standing.
You make your way to Satoru and the girl whose face has turned white. "I'll just take that-" you pull the red dart that's quite stuck in the wall, but not before sparing the girl a cold glare, "and if you'll excuse us, I'd like to have a little talk with my boyfriend here."
Satoru lets you drag him by the arm outside. To be completely honest, he's quite turned on. Seeing your possessiveness over him, your rage, your jealousy, he wants all of it.
"Are you done acting up- mmp!"
Satoru pulls you to him, his hand keeping your neck in place so he can kiss you properly while also not letting you escape. He forces his tongue into your mouth, taking your breath away completely.
"Satoru-"
He shushes you, lifting you from the ground to sit on the bench, your legs straddling his waist while still making out with you.
"I'm not done talking-" You finally push him away with a pant. "What's gotten into you?!"
You notice something poking your ass and you slap his shoulder, "Are you seriously getting turned on right now?!"
"Mm, baby," He tries to kiss you again, "You know I love it when you yell at me."
You scoff and grab his chin roughly. "So you did all of that just because you wanted some attention?"
Satoru gulps.
"Are you really that needy, Satoru? Hm?" You tilt your head, peeling his blindfold off. "I guess I have been neglecting you and your needy cock for a while, huh?"
He nods helplessly.
"I guess it is partially my fault for leaving you unattended for so long," Your hand travels down to grab his cock through his pants. "But just so we're clear, Satoru... don't ever pull that shit again, understand?"
He moans and nods his head again.
"Good." You peck his lips, "You're mine. And I don't let anyone just touch what's mine."
Satoru could come right then and there.
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astonmartinii · 4 months
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reluctant cupid | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem bff!reader
you could set your bestie up with a driver or you could confess your feelings? lando norris is dumb.
based on this request: Could you write something about being best friends with lando and he tries to help set you up with another driver you have a crush on, but then he realises he actually likes you so he has to sabotage all the wingmanning he’s done and you end up together Idk if that makes sense 😭🫶🏼🫶🏼 -@mbappesleftthigh
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 49,340 others
yourusername: someone please save me from the grips of hinge and this oh so lonesome life
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user1: girl knows the whole f1 paddock and looks like that and is still alone there is NO HOPE for me
user2: this post might have thrown me over the edge
landonorris: "i'm so lonely" "why don't you approach that guy" "no too scary"
user3: that's so real though
yourusername: thank you!
landonorris: how do you expect to find a boyfriend when you don't like to talk to anyone and treat hinge like a gameshow
yourusername: i didn't come here for actual advice let me commiserate in peace. god, can women have anything these days?
landonorris: ???
yourusername: oh! idea! pretty please set me up with one of your friends? they have to be great otherwise you wouldn't be friends with them, right? RIGHT?
landonorris: i guess...
yourusername: please lando, i've never asked for anything before
landonorris: i can feel you pouting through the phone
yourusername: so you'll consider ?
landonorris: fine...
user4: bro either gotta admit his feelings now or be condemned to be in the plot of a weird romantic comedy
user5: i personally don't think i can wait until the third act break up with this side character LANDO ACT NOW
oscarpiastri: you'd really trust lando's judgement?
yourusername: he's friends with me, he's got good taste?
oscarpiastri: touche
maxverstappen1: whatever you really wanna say oscar, you gotta keep it in, these idiots will figure it out eventually
yourusername: ???
landonorris: ???
user6: the grid are so done with their asses i can't 😭
user7: but what if the universe doesn't intervene and lando really has just lost the girl forever?
user8: bestie we can't be thinking like this
landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 812,047 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: being back home means being bothered by her (and whatever is her newest hyperfixation - it's sylvanian families this month if you couldn't tell)
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user9: i am so sorry but they are so in love
user10: it's cute in the movies, but these blind bitches are starting to piss me off
yourusername: THEY CAN HEAR YOU, BE A BETTER DAD
landonorris: they're not my children
yourusername: you take that back right now, you LOVE them
landonorris: you spent my money on them yes
yourusername: that's fatherhood, buddy. buckle up
user11: whoever he sets her up (if he's still dumb enough to do that) is gonna be the biggest third wheel in history
user12: who would willingly sign up for that
user13: me. i would. i have two working eyes and have seen y/n
maxverstappen1: who are these funky little critters and how can i procure some for p?
yourusername: finally a man with sense, literally any grocery store or toy store
maxverstappen1: perf
yourusername: if lando stops being mr. grumpy i'll ask him if i can come to a race and p and i can play animal families
landonorris: i am NOT mr. grumpy
maxverstappen1: you kinda are dude. is it the set-up is it stressing you out?
landonorris: nO
yourusername: then why are you putting it off !!! lando i might die from terminal yearning !!!
landonorris: i have an interested candidate
yourusername: really? do you think they'll actually like me? like this isn't a pity date right?
landonorris: nope!
user14: lando is typing through tears as we speak
user15: if y/n does go on a date with someone from the paddock i actually hope it goes well, as one lonely girl to another, it's tough out here we need one win
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f1wagupdates
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liked by user18, user19 and 11,043 others
tagged: yourusername & carlossainz55
f1wagupdates: turns out lando is a bit of a cupid as his childhood friend y/n y/ln was spotted out and about with carlos sainz.
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user20: HE ACTUALLY DID IT
user21: that moment when you're so down bad for a girl that you set her up with your best friend
user22: that moment when you're such a wimp you can't admit your feelings and set up the girl you like with a literal GREEK GOD
user23: i am so bamboozled by this move he literally looked like a kicked puppy on his stream bro this is your doing 😭
user24: she's a lover girl she's going to get her heart broken :(
user25: this has mess written all over it
user26: she's literally described herself as a terminal yearner i feel like she'll throw herself in and will get hurt
user27: UNLESS! this is all part of the plan? what if lando set her up with a messy guy like carlos so he can be the shoulder to cry on and that's how he slides in?
user28: that's very convoluted, very rom-com but i'll take it if it means we get lando and y/n together in the end
user29: i know this probably won't last long but can we all appreciate how hot this couple is?
user30: lando and y/n runs rings round y/n and carlos
user31: lol lando is a bad friend for setting her up with CARLOS him and charles are THEE red flags
user32: i hope y/n is prepared
user33: also lando hasn't thought it fully out if his plan is to be the shoulder to cry on because he's just opening her up to be called a homie hopper or a paddock bunny
carlossainz55
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 702,554 others
carlossainz55: productive weekend with my girl
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user34: well that's not y/n
user35: that finished faster than i expected
user36: lando DO NOT quit your day job
landonorris: call me bro
carlossainz55: si, cabron
user37: i don't think they'll be cabrons after this call
user38: maybe this is all just going to plan?
user39: yall gotta give up this conspiracy theory maybe these people are just as dumb and mean as they seem to be
user40: soooooo... what did we all do this weeekend?
user41: i broke a girl's heart @carlossainz55 twins 👯‍♂️
user42: AHHHH???
maxverstappen1: oh that's not-
yourusername: you're so chronically online :(
maxverstappen1: you're alive?
yourusername: yes. coming at you live from the bed i'm currently rotting in
maxverstappen1: not going to say i didn't warn you?
carlossainz55: really? in my own comment section?
yourusername: one second, we're having a conversation here
maxverstappen1: yeah carlos, gosh.
carlossainz55: i'm so confused
user43: okay power move to just start a conversation in his comments?
user44: the power of confusion is simply unmatched
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 56,309 others
yourusername: certified boy hater
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user45: a ferrari boy will do that to you
landonorris: feeling hashtag victimised rn
yourusername: obviously doesn't include you girlypop. but you seriously need to reevaluate your judgement
landonorris: carlos is attractive?
yourusername: he ghosted me?
carlossainz55: i am right here
yourusername: blocked.
landonorris: did you actually just block him?
yourusername: yes 😀 !
landonorris: god this is a nightmare
yourusername: not if you'd take a GOD DAMN HINT
landonorris: WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?
user46: yall this is a public instagram comment section
user47: don't say that, this is their argument in the rain moment
user48: lemme grab the popcorn 🍿
maxverstappen1: this better not include the real number one girlypop here
yourusername: of course not pookie
oscarpiastri: you gonna continue the lil spat above this?
yourusername: no?
oscarpiastri: well some people (max and i) would like to listen so please continue
yourusername: no, i don't think i will
oscarpiastri: GOD YOU PEOPLE ARE INSUFFERABLE
maxverstappen1: what oscar said
user49: oscar and max are so real
user50: they can't leave us on this cliff hanger
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,043,788 others
landonorris: some snaps from '23
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user51: have we just been thirst trapped?
user52: i don't think it was intended for us
user53: this has "i am hotter than carlos sainz" written all over it
yourusername: posting tits on main, brave.
landonorris: i came second in singapore.
yourusername: sureeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. modesty, ever heard of it lan?
landonorris: slutshaming isn't cute y/n
yourusername: you kinda have to pull to be a slut lan. you are under qualified for the position
landonorris: if you keep being mean to me i will call your mum or my mum.
yourusername: try it. i see cisca more than you, i have faith in her
landonorris: the line is busy. are you on the phone to MY mum right now?
yourusername: maybe.
user54: we're so close to them getting their heads out of their asses
user55: don't get my hopes up
danielricciardo: i hope this works lol
landonorris: you don't think i'm sexy?
danielricciardo: it doesn't matter what i think
landonorris: i'm not sexy :(
danielricciardo: you're baiting me but yes, you are sexy.
user56: i'll fight anyone who made this man believe he's not beautiful
liked by yourusername
user57: I SAW THAT 📸
user58: someone just lock them in a cupboard at this point
oscarpiastri: noted.
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 89,034 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: yeah, yeah. you can stop yelling at us now.
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user61: LET'S FUCKING GO
user62: it was worth all that yelling. i expect an invite to the wedding now.
user63: wedding? girly they only just realised their feelings after a DECADE
maxverstappen1: it was about fucking time
yourusername: okay miss ma'am. some people are EMOTIONALLY VULNERABLE AND NOT VERY GOOD AT PROCESSING THEM
maxverstappen1: you must've been emotionally constipated because this was painful
yourusername: it was painful for me too
maxverstappen1: so painful that you dated CARLOS
yourusername: one date! ONE!
maxverstappen1: carlos said can you unblock him so he can be mean to me?
yourusername: fine.
carlossainz55: STOP MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A BAD PERSON. YES I AM NOT THE BEST AT RELATIONSHIPS BUT LEAVE ME BE
maxverstappen1: lol
yourusername: lol
user64: unblocking carlos to hit him with the lol max and y/n might be more iconic than lando and y/n
landonorris: not on our relationship announcement post 🤨
user65: OOP.
landonorris: i love you doofus
yourusername: i love you too muppet
landonorris: how much was the betting pool for your family?
yourusername: it got to over £300
landonorris: ours was £750
yourusername: are we dumb?
landonorris: no!
oscarpiastri: two dumbass girls saying 'yass' to each other
yourusername: LEAVE US BE
landonorris: oscar :(
user66: not their own families betting on when they'd get together 😭
landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,430,778 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: first win, hopefully not my only one.
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user67: MY BABIES
user68: i feel like i've been on this journey with them
oscarpiastri: thank god you guys got your shit together, i was THIS close to jumping out the nearest window if i had to watch lando mope around like a kicked puppy when y/n had the lil thing with carlos
user69: so it wasn't some grand plan?
oscarpiastri: no he's just dumb enough to actually set up his first love with his best friend
landonorris: OSCAR!
oscarpiastri: am i wrong?
landonorris: no... but! i got there in the end
oscarpiastri: good thing you're faster on track
user70: the grid being just as done with them as us is killing me
maxfewtrell: finally this unnecessarily long and overly convoluted saga has come to and end, lets never do this again!
landonorris: i'm locked in for life bro no worries
yourusername: awwwwwwwwwwwwww i love you too bubs
maxfewtrell: stop being sappy under my comment
yourusername: you just complained we didn't sort out our shit fast enough and now we're too sappy?
landonorris: STICK TO A STORY BOZO
maxfewtrell: now you're even more ride or die... can we go back?
yourusername: nope!
landonorris: nope!
maxverstappen1: i for one am very happy for you both
yourusername: thank you max !!
landonorris: not so fast, he had the biggest bet on us in the paddock
yourusername: get that bag sis
landonorris: ???
yourusername: we can't fight it anymore, let them have their jokes, we actually have each other now :)
landonorris: yes we do :) xx
user71: golly gosh this is so fucking cute
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fin.
note: i hope this is what you were looking for and that you all enjoyed!! i'm just waiting on my tester sticker sheets for my small business @badlydrawnf1cats on here and on instagram, if you wanna give it a follow x tHANK YOU FOR READING MY LOVES X
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thevoidstaredback · 18 days
Text
"Guys!" Nightwing shouted once he and Batman arrived in the main are of the Bat Cave, "I have some fantastic news!"
Bruce pulled his cowl off, his amusement no longer being hidden as he nearly failed to keep from laughing.
Everyone had gathered in the Cave to await the two who'd gone to the Watchtower, so everyone was already there to hear the exclamation. Even Alfred was with them all.
"Calm down, Big Bird," Jason said from his place on the meeting table, "What's going on?"
Dick was bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Can I tell 'em, B? Can I, can I?!"
Bruce chuckled, "I'm not stopping you."
He cheered before turning back to the rest of his family, "They think there's a total of three-" he held up three fingers on his left hand, "-of us operating within Gotham, myself excluded because I'm in Bludhaven."
"Wait," Stephanie called, "They think Batman only has three people helping to cover Gotham? They know we're human, right?"
Dick shook his head, his grin only getting bigger. "Nope! They think Batman only has two sidekicks covering Gotham with him."
This caused everyone to laugh, the humor breaking any seriousness anyone would've tried to control to keep on topic. It was nice, Bruce smiled, to be able to let loose with everyone like this. His family was altogether, spending time with one another, doing things that didn't include head hunts or injuries.
Alfred took his place beside Bruce. "This is nice, isn't it."
"It is."
"You can die a happy man now?"
A chuckle. "You killing me off so soon?"
"Of course not, Master Bruce," He's smirking, "I'm simply stating a fact."
"Ha!"
"What're you guys talking about over there?" Tim called. Everyone had gathered at the meeting table to go over final details and slight changes for the set up tomorrow. "C'mon! We've gotta finish putting this all together."
Duke nodded from over his shoulder, "Yeah! New information allows room for some much more fun!"
Jason smirked. "Yeah, old man, Alfred! We want to see if we can get away with switching out with each other. It'll confuse the hell outta the Leaguers."
Bruce raised an eyebrow as he and Alfred joined the kids at the table. "How are you going to pull that off? Despite what you all may thing, the others are all a lot more observant than given credit for-"
"Except the Flash and Green Arrow." Cass cut in.
"Hey!" Dick said, "Don't dis Barry like that!"
"Yeah," Barbra agreed, "And Ollie's whole thing is spotting details. He prides himself on it!"
"If that were true, then we wouldn't be planning on how to mess with them, now would we?"
Tim nodded, "Damian's right."
"As you were saying?" Bruce prompted.
"Well," Jason continued, "You, Damian, and Dick have to be here as Batman, Nightwing, and Robin. They all probably know about me, so I'll stay out of the Cave, but you can bet your ass that I'll be in the Clocktower with Babs, listening in on everything." He looked to Tim and Babs. "Should we set up cameras?"
Tim thought for a second, "If we want to record this, then yeah. I can have them all set up by morning."
"I'll help you set it up before I head out tonight," Barbra agreed.
"Anyway," Stephanie interrupted, pulling the attention to herself, "Tim, Cass, and I could totally get away with running around and messing with their senses and shit. And if we can get Kate and Selina in on this-"
"You've already talked to them, haven't you." Bruce asked. The matching grins on everyone's faces was answer enough. He sighed.
"Having fun," Cass patted his arm, "Bonding."
He snorted. 'Bonding', yeah right. Maybe letting his coworkers be the target of his childrens' whims is a bad idea. Then again, their not hurting anyone. It's all fun in games.
Bruce sat at the head of the table. "Alright. We all know about Superman's ability to hear heartbeats and breathing patterns. He's able to memorize someone's vitals, especially his friends. It's safe to assume he's got mine down, as well as Robin's and Nightwing's."
Damian scoffed. "Changing my vitals will be no issue for me."
Bruce nodded, "Me, either."
Dick nodded along, "Soundseasy enough. But what's the plan?"
"Oracle will call you out for an emergency in Bludhaven. Red Hood will call me out for some information at the docks. We'll met up at the Clocktower and switch costumes." he explained.
Barbra had a manic look on her face. "We should have Steph and Cass stay away from the Cave at first, then have them come in separately, but sharing a costume." SHe turned her attention to the blonde. "You have a spare Spoiler costume, yeah?"
Stephanie matched her grin, "Naturally."
"What about me, Tim, and Damian?" Duke asked.
"How would you and Tim like to be actual bats?" the red head wondered, "Or maybe ghosts?"
"Do we get to mess with shit?" Tim asked.
"Naturally."
"I'm in," the two responded.
"Damian will run distraction," Jason said," He'll be the only one who stays with the JL the whole time they're here. Alfred will have to keep cover upstairs. I'll bounce between the Manor, the Clocktower, and patrol."
"Are you quite sure?" Alfred asked, "That's quite a lot to be doing."
"Yeah, I'll be fine," he assured.
Brice cleared his throat. "If everyone's ready?" Looks around the table before nods of affirmation. "Good. Finish up any last minute changes and preparations. They've agreed to meet at the Watchtower at fifteen hundred New Jersey time so that I can bring them here. Damian, I want you to come with me."
"Of course, father."
"Ready? Break."
Part 3
Tag List: @sebas-nights
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The Rain is Always Gonna Come if You're Standing With Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hi, friends. This one took me approximately 100 years to finish because school is eating me alive. This one is based on Peace from folklore, which is an underrated song, in my opinion.
Word count: 12.3k
Warnings: Bucky's negative self image, harassment, slight reader injury, people being assholes
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"But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come All these people think love's for show But I would die for you in secret The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?"
“Oh, you don’t have to do that, doll-” Bucky said as you swiped the dirty dishes from the table. He made a grab for them, but his enhanced speed was no match for you. You expertly evaded his capture, slipping away from his grasp with almost no effort. You knew him too well, knew his movement patterns and habits. Anticipating his every move was easy. With a cocky laugh, you turned on your heel and headed for the sink. 
“Sweetheart, really,” he called after you, “I’ll clean up.”
“But you made breakfast.” You set the two bowls that once held yogurt, fruit, and granola in the sink and turned on the water. “It’s only fair that I do the dishes.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and gave a laugh, “that wasn’t breakfast, baby. It was just a… a morning snack.” In only a few long strides, he met you at the sink. His large hands snatched yours and pulled them to his broad chest, halting your efforts to clean.
You cocked your head to the side, “A morning snack, huh?”
“Yeah. I mean, I know we’re going out for breakfast, but I didn’t want you to be hungry.” He added a fraction of extra pressure to your hands, pulling them closer against his body. “I gotta take care of my girl.”
“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you,” you placed a quick peck to his lips. “And because you are so thoughtful and sweet, let me do the dishes.” With a playful tug, you tried to free your hands from his grasp. But Bucky held firm. 
He shook his head, “Nope. Not gonna happen.” Suddenly, he released your hands, spun you around, and landed a light slap to your ass; it happened so fast it left you giggling. “You go get dressed, I’ll take care of it.”
Your giggly “sir, yes, sir” floated down the hall as you marched toward the bedroom. This was to be the perfect day. A trip to your favorite bookstore, followed by what you swore was the best chicken and waffles the city had to offer. After breakfast, the two of you were set to visit the new shark exhibit at the science museum, eat lunch in the park, and grab an ice cream from your favorite spot. 
Bucky planned it all out, ensuring a flawless blueprint. And while you appreciated his attention to detail, you would’ve been happy with a day at home. All you wanted- all you needed- was to spend time with him. 
And time with Bucky was lacking as of late.
He stood at the sink, drying the now clean dishes as emotion overcame him. He couldn’t believe he was here- home- with you. He waited for this day. He hungered and ached for a day without danger, without bloodshed. He waited for a day spent with you. And only you. 
He’d just been so busy lately- too busy. Over the past few months, he’d been dragged around the world more times than he could count. His missions only seemed to grow longer. And each time he got the call from Hill, she sent him farther and farther away. 
He found himself struggling under the weight of severe, mind-numbing exhaustion. Anxiety. His body threatened to give out with each new wound he received, each drop of blood he lost. But he didn’t mind the constant paint or fatigue. What upset him most was spending so much time away from you.
The two of you lived together now. You shared an address, a roof, a bedroom. The universe somehow allowed Bucky to have a home- a safe, comfortable home- with the person he loved most. But he’d spent so little time there lately that he feared it wasn’t his anymore. That he had no claim to the space. He always felt like a mere passerby upon arriving home, like more of a wanderer than a resident. He always had to stop himself from knocking, had to force himself to use his key. 
But who was he to waltz through the front door after being gone for so long? Who was he to act like he owned the place? He thought maybe he didn’t deserve it, this home you shared. And he knew he didn’t deserve you.  
Over the past few months, he spent only a handful of nights at home while you held down the fort. You kept things together. He missed out on so much of your life; what if you didn’t want him to be a part of it anymore?
When Bucky did come home, he always showed up in the middle of the night. Sore. Exhausted. He’d drag his body into the bed you shared and pass out before he even got the chance to pull you close. He’d sleep late, his body too fatigued to wake before the afternoon. When he finally stirred, the two of you did your best to catch up. He wanted to hear every detail of your life, and you his. But without fail, the emotion won. You’d cry together, wrapped in the other’s arms, whispering “I love yous” over and over. 
And without fail, some world ending threat would interrupt. Danger always found a way to force the two of you apart, isolating you from one another. And only twenty-four hours after arriving home, Bucky would leave. Again. 
But over the last few weeks, things started quieting down. It was slow at first. Subtle. But Bucky sensed a shift in the air. He could almost feel the world settling. At first, he thought he’d lost his mind. But Sam, too, felt the earth calming. As did Hill. Whatever sweeping, overwhelming chaos that sent the entire planet into disaster so many months ago seemed to finally lose steam. Fewer calls came in, fewer alerts woke Bucky in the middle of the night. 
And three nights ago, Bucky came home for good. 
The adrenaline that kept him going for so long evaporated as soon as he made it through the front door. The anxiety melted from his body. It was the only thing, he realized, that kept him upright. And with it gone, his body gave out. He crumbled and collapsed to the floor as sweet relief flooded his every cell. He didn’t care that he was hurt, that he was worn out; he was just happy to be home.
But a sharp shriek flooded his system with fear once again. 
You stood frozen in the doorway of your bedroom, just a few feet away, with your hands clasped over your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes. Your chest rose and fell as sharp breaths dragged into your lungs. The sight of his limp body sent you jumping to the worst, most tragic conclusions. 
“No, I’m- I’m okay, baby.”  With great effort, Bucky pulled himself to his feet. 
It was then that you snapped out of your horrified trance. You rushed to Bucky’s side, throwing your arms around his neck, and pressing your body to his. You needed to be as close to him as possible, needed your souls to touch. His arms wound around you and pulled you closer still, desperate for you.
“You’re okay…” you whispered against his neck. It wasn’t a question, but an affirmation.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m home.” 
That night, after he took a shower and let you clean his wounds, he planned this perfect day. And though you told him it wasn’t necessary, he wanted to make things up to you. He wanted to apologize for being gone so long. For breaking your heart over and over and over again. For disappearing. 
He knew how his absences affected you. Knew you worried about him constantly when he was gone. He noticed the way you bit your nails down to the quick. How you picked at your cuticles till they bled. Your tired eyes looked bloodshot, and your bottom lip chewed raw. He knew your anxiety gave you stomach pain and headaches. Knew that you could barely eat or sleep when he was away. 
His constant disappearing act put you through hell. And he hated himself for it. All he wanted- all he ever wanted- was to make you happy. To bring you calm and ease and tranquility. And now that he was home, he swore to himself that he’d give you peace. 
Bucky finished with the dishes and headed into the bedroom, hoping to soak up as much time with you as possible. But just as he made his way into the en suite bathroom, your grumbled, aggravated voice caught his attention.
“Oh, what the fuck?” You let out a deep huff, staring down at your phone with a sharp seriousness.
Bucky popped his head into the bathroom, “Everything okay?” 
A look of surprise splashed across your face; you hadn’t heard him come in. “Oh- hey. Yeah. Everything is-” you gestured to your phone, “everything’s fine. My friend just sent me a stupid gossip article.”
“Anything good?” Bucky shot you a wink, knowing damn well he was clueless about the latest reality tv drama. 
“No.” The word carried a hefty weight and fell to the ground with finality.
Bucky clocked your tone, your expression- both struck him as too serious for a gossip rag. His muscles stiffened ever so slightly at sight of your displeasure. 
“Just dumb shit. People writing whole articles over things they have no idea about.” You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone into your pocket. A deep breath acted as a reset to your system, clearing the fog of frustration from your mind. “And it doesn’t even matter, cause we have a perfect day planned.” 
Bucky, too, took a deep breath. He relaxed into a smile and leaned against the door jam. “We sure do, doll.”
He was too accustomed to disaster. Always prepared for the worst. The slightest change in your demeanor sent him hurdling toward the worst possible conclusion. His body was home, but his mind remained stuck in a never-ending battle. 
“I’m just gonna put my shoes on- I’ll be ready when you are.” Bucky stepped away and did his best to shake it off. ‘Everything’s fine, it’s all good’, he said to himself as he laced up his boots. ‘It was just an article about Vanderpump Rules or whatever.’ His palms dragged up and down his thighs, his chest rose and fell rhythmically. He learned how to self-regulate, to talk himself down, long ago- before he ever met you. It was his only option back then.
The sound of your footsteps bounding down the hall commanded Bucky’s attention. He snapped out his dimly lit world and stepped into your technicolor atmosphere. A comforting sigh of relief spread though his body as he noticed the bright smile on your face. Any evidence of the upset your gossip rag caused was long gone, replaced by an all-encompassing warmth. 
“Alright, Barnes,” you grabbed your purse from the hook by the door and slung it over your shoulder,  “let’s do this.” 
The warm summer air greeted the two of you as stepped out of your apartment building. The busy city pulsed with the possibilities of a perfect Saturday. People passed by with dogs in tow. Cars honked. Birds sang. And finally, things felt right. Everything fell off its axis when Bucky was gone. The world turned in the wrong direction, the sun set on the opposite side. And only his return could set things properly in motion.
“Okay, to the bookstore,” Bucky weaved his fingers with yours and gave you a gentle tug in the right direction, “here we go!” 
Bucky never had an affinity for going out in public. He didn’t particularly enjoy the crowded sidewalks or busy subways. Throngs of strangers surrounding him from every angle only ever served to put him on edge. But he’d improved. He’d worked through his anxiety and his fears- all to be with you. It seemed, though, that his paranoia threatened to creep in again. After so much time away, surrounded by danger, he found himself scanning every face on the street, assessing possible threats. 
He always experienced some level of recognition in public, sure, but today felt different. Every pair of eyes seemed to bore through him, every mouth whispered his name. His muscles tensed, his jaw locked. 
“You okay?” you pulled Bucky to the side, out of the flow of people, “you seem a little on edge.”
“Oh-” Bucky snaked his hand out of yours, realizing all at once the force of his grip. He watched you rub at the sore spots he created and silently cursed himself. “No, I’m good, I’m okay. I think I’m just-” He eyed the area once more, “I think I’m just being paranoid. Is it me or is everyone staring at me?”
Your heart stopped. “Um, no, I don’t think everyone’s staring,” A casual shrug and a shake of your head punctuated your thought. “I think you’ve got some residual adrenaline or something, you know?”
Bucky nodded. “Must be it. I’m sorry about your hand, baby.” He pressed his lips to the indentations his fingers left behind. 
“I’ll survive,” you threw him a wink, “but the kisses help.”
The two of you continued your journey with Bucky’s worries only slightly assuaged. It seemed to him that hundreds of eyes raked over him with each passing second, but he forced his anxiety behind a wall. He wasn’t going to mess up this day with you- he couldn’t. He didn’t know how many chances he had left, and if this was the last one, he couldn’t afford to ruin it.
Block after block passed as you and Bucky got closer to the bookstore. Sure, there was a similar shop only a few minutes from the apartment- but it wasn’t as cute or as special as the one in the village. And Bucky wanted this day perfect. He’d do anything to make you happy. And so, he sucked it up and vowed to make the trek with you, no matter how nervous the public made him. 
But with only a few blocks to go, you pulled him to the side once again.
“Hang on, shoe’s untied,” you attempted to bend down and tie your loose lace, but Bucky refused to let you. He, instead, knelt on the sidewalk and gave your shoe a proper double-knot. 
He stared up at you with adoration in his eyes and a warm smile on his face, “this is almost like a Cinderella moment,” he joked. “Except I-” 
Something caught his eye. 
And before you had the chance to intervene, he was gone. He forced his way past cyclists and families with children, his body seemingly drawn in by a magnet toward whatever grabbed his attention. He stood with his back to you, examining a newspaper box. 
“Come on, Buck, no one reads the paper anymore,” you laughed, attempting to sway his focus. But he didn’t move. 
His gaze remained on the grainy photo of the two of you holding hands outside your building. For the second time that day, you scanned the headline: ‘SERIAL KILLER’S PR RELATIONSHIP: The Winter Soldier’s Attempt to Win Over the American Public’.
“What- what is this?” Bucky looked to you for help, for context. “Why did someone wrote about us?”
A haunting sense of hopelessness filled his eyes, leaving you gutted. And though he wanted to look away, he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the page. Each second spent examining the harsh headline caused him more pain, more anguish. 
He truly couldn’t believe what he saw. And he couldn’t believe he’d dragged you into the crossfire. 
“Hey, don’t pay it any mind, okay?” You fought to meet his eyeline, “It’s just stupid gossip-”
A realization flashed across his face, “is this what you were reading this morning?”
A slow nod confirmed his fears. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, I just-”
Bucky snatched a paper from the box and began reading at lightning speed. With each sentence, the dread filling his chest grew heavier. “Hydra’s deadliest weapon has a new victim,” Bucky read aloud. “though she hasn’t been bloodied or brutalized…yet. We’ll see just how long Barnes’s new PR ‘girlfriend’ survives.”
The words cut him deep. They wormed their way into his brain and unearthed the fears he’d long tried to put to rest. He knew he was wrong to be with you. He was wrong to indulge in his feelings for you. Dating you meant putting you in danger, and he’d known that all along. But you were never scared of him- and if you were, you didn’t show it. This article, however, cemented his belief: your relationship was a ticking time bomb; being Bucky’s girlfriend meant signing your I love you’s in blood. 
“Wait-” he dragged his eyes upward and met your anxious stare. “What does this mean- what’s a ‘PR relationship’?”
You rolled your eyes at the phrase, just like you had earlier that morning, “’public relations relationship’. It’s a fake relationship that’s been arranged by a PR firm. People usually do it to get publicity or fix their public image after a scandal.”
Bucky knew there was more to your answer, and he had enough questions to last till dinner. But the article was long- too long. He knew it had to be full to the brim with the most brutal, vile rhetoric possible. Reading it would hurt, yes. But he needed to know exactly what the article said about him, about you. 
He buried his face in the paper once more, only surfacing to share a line or two with you. “They think you’re being paid to date me? That we’ve been doing something called-” he double checked the article, “‘pap walks’? What’s a pap walk?”
Even in times of crisis, Bucky’s lack of modern knowledge still managed to pull a smile from you. “It’s where you call the paparazzi so they can take pictures of you, but you pretend it was spontaneous.”
Bucky looked stunned, “Why would anyone do that?”
You shrugged, “you’d be surprised.”
People took pictures of Bucky without his permission constantly- it happened all the time. They snapped photos at the grocery store and on the subway. And no matter how subtle they tried to be, Bucky always clocked it. He could almost feel the lenses on him. But he didn’t notice the person taking this picture on the front page. Maybe if he had, he could’ve stopped it. Maybe he could’ve saved you from being exposed like this.
He shook his head and disappeared once again into the disgusting story written about the two of you. He didn’t care much what they said about him. People hated him- that wasn’t knew information. And though he didn’t love being one of the most reviled men in history, he’d come to terms with it. But now that someone dragged you into the fray, the fire within him reignited.
“His new ‘girlfriend’ functions as a means of improving the public’s opinion of Barnes and humanizing the ex-Winter Soldier. It’s a PR strategy we’ve seen a million times- one that could possibly salvage Barnes’s reputation,” Bucky read aloud. He eyed the people who passed, waiting until they crossed the street to continue. 
“But what if she herself is no angel?” He rolled his eyes at the thought. “Surely, no one in their right mind would risk their life to date a proven serial killer. So, it’s entirely possible that she herself may not be in her right mind. Maybe she, too, is a criminal. Acting as Barnes’s new love interest could possibly knock time off her sentence or hours off her court mandated community service.” 
Bucky stared at you, aghast. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I- I can’t believe they’d say that about you…”
“Buck, it’s okay,” you shrugged. “We both know I’m actually in love with you for real. I don’t have a prison sentence to shorten or community service hours to perform. And the last time I checked, no one is paying me to date you.” You cut a glance to the newspaper box, full of papers with front page coverage about you and Bucky, “I’m not worried about their bullshit.”
Bucky’s grip on the paper tightened, crinkling the edges. “But why’d they have to drag you into it? You haven’t done anything wrong-”
“Neither have you,” your tone was insistent, steadfast.
“We both know that’s not true…” Bucky loved your support, your assertions that he was an innocent man. But he never believed them. He knew he had blood on his hands even if you couldn’t- or refused to- see it.
“We both know you had no choice,” your rebuttal didn’t waver. “But, speaking of things that aren’t true,” you gestured toward the paper, “they also dropped Sam’s name.”
Bucky scanned through the article until he found the paragraph in question. “Why put in the effort to clean the blood from Barnes’s tarnished reputation? Two words: Sam Wilson,” Bucky paused his reading and stared up at you with wide eyes. All you could do was nod. 
“Barnes and Wilson have been seen together on many occasions and have even been photographed on Wilson’s family boat in Louisiana. But Barnes’s association with Sam Wilson, AKA the New Captain America, only hurts the Captain America brand. Even if the two did take down the Flag Smashers as a team, Barnes is a bloodstain on the brilliant red, white, and blue of Wilson’s Cap.” 
Hearing the words aloud twisted the knife. Sure, skimming the article hurt, but listening to Bucky read every last disgusting word hurt you in ways you never imagined. He deserved better. He deserved a world that loved him. A world that welcomed him home and celebrated his life. He deserved a fucking medal of honor for simply surviving what Hydra put him through. But he didn’t get medals or high praise; he, instead, got spit on by people on the subway. 
“But if this new woman improves Barnes’s image in the public eye, his destruction of Wilson’s mantle may be mitigated.” 
Bucky balled up the paper and crushed it into the nearest garbage can. His hands shook with anger, with anxiety. 
“I hadn’t even- I didn’t even think of that…” he leaned against the newspaper box, dejected. “I didn’t realize I was ruining Sam's reputation just by being friends with him.” Despair darkened his expression. He knew getting close to people was selfish- he just never realized how selfish. And in one fell swoop, he ruined the lives of the two people he cared about most.
“You’re not- you’re not ruining anything,” you took Bucky’s face in your hands, cradling his cheeks. “These kinds of stories are all made up, baby. There’s no sources or actual information for them to work from, so they just write whatever will get them the most attention.”
Bucky’s gaze fell downward. “I don’t know, doll…”
“But I do. I know.” Your words came out desperate, pleading. Something inside of you shook with a frantic need to mend Bucky’s broken heart. You’d never seen him this despondent, this torn apart. “And I’m not gonna let you doubt yourself because of some low budget, piece of shit gossip article.” Regardless of the emotion holding you hostage, your voice didn’t waver. You stood firm in your conviction, determined to help Bucky find his way out of the spiral. “I love you. I love being with you. I missed you so much- I hate when you’re gone. And Sam- Sam loves you, too. I mean, not as much as me…” you shot him a wink. “But he is your best friend. He cares about you. And I can guarantee that he’s never- even for a second- thought that you were ruining his reputation.”
Bucky gave a shake of his head.
“Hey, you know Sam doesn’t care about that kind of stuff- he doesn’t give a shit what people think.” Sam knew Bucky as the ruthless assassin, the broken fugitive, and the rehabilitated man seeking amends. He’d seen the darkest, most twisted version of Bucky created by Hydra- even fought against him. But he didn’t see Bucky as a villain anymore. He saw only his friend, the tortured soul who tried his best every day.
Bucky lifted your hands from his face and held them to his chest instead. He gave a deep, heavy sigh that vibrated under your palms. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Part of him wished to go back into cryo and escape the stares of the world. 
You could see him crumbling, collapsing in on himself like a dying star. He was drowning in his own mind, and you offered him a life preserver. “Hey, I know it must feel fucking awful to see a story like this about yourself. And I know you hate that Sam and I are involved. But it’s not your fault.” You gripped his t-shirt in your fists, desperate to get your point across. “This whole thing is so predatory and evil- it’s killing me to see you hurting like this. But I swear to you that this does not matter to the rest of the world. they won’t even notice.” Bucky’s stare sliced through you. Something in his eyes appeared hopeful- but only for a moment. The brightness died suddenly, replaced by despair.
“Seriously, Buck, people these days don’t even have the attention span to read an article this long.” Bucky didn’t laugh at your attempted levity. You dropped your joking tone and grew serious. “I don’t want you to think that this changes anything- it doesn’t. This will not have any ramifications. It will all blow over. The news cycle moves so fast now- by tomorrow, this same shitty paper will publish something that’s, like, ‘Elton John is secretly an alien.’”
Bucky didn’t answer. He simply rested his shoulders against the cool, brick wall and let his head fall back. He wondered if the fear people held for him would ever subside, if he’d ever be seen as anything other than a monster. His legacy was soaked in blood. It hung over his head every day, dripping crimson onto his skin. No shower could undo the stains- no matter how hard he scrubbed, he’d always be the stuff of nightmares.
“Okay, hey, how about this,” you reeled Bucky back in, saving him from the dark recesses of his mind. “Let’s just go home, alright? We can hole up and hide out. Watch movies, order takeout. We’ll just stay out of the public eye until this bullshit blows over.”
The offer enticed him. Escaping the stares of strangers, their horrified expressions- it sounded idyllic. The thought of just the two of you snuggled together on the couch, marathoning all of What We Do in the Shadows with Chinese takeout in hand was tempting. Bucky could feel the ‘yes’ forming on his lips. But at the last second, he refused with a shake of his head.
Bucky made a promise to you. After being an absentee boyfriend for months, he planned out the perfect day and swore on his life to deliver. He couldn’t break any more promises- not after he was gone for so long. And he had so much to make up for. So many date nights and lazy weekends fell by the wayside while he was away. He racked up a stack of debt in your relationship, and if he didn’t start paying it off soon, he feared you’d cancel his account.
But he knew you- knew you didn’t care about these things. You didn’t consider him accountable for the time he missed or hold a grudge against him. You were gracious- too gracious- of him. And if he rattled off his reasons for refusing your offer, he knew you’d sweep them aside. He knew you’d lead him home without hesitation and stay cooped up inside until the world eased up on him. And you’d miss out on your perfect day. 
Bucky wasn’t going to let that happen.
“I think it’s actually better if…” he eyed the people passing, certain they were shooting the two of you dirty looks. “I think it’s better if I just go about my day. If we go home and hide, I’ll obsess, you know? I’ll get trapped in my own head.” He quickly tacked on an addendum, “but if you’re not okay being out in public right now, I understand. They involved you in this mess, too.”
You shrugged, “it doesn’t bother me. I know our relationship is real. That’s all that matters.” 
And for a split second, Bucky’s worries disappeared. You were so sure of your love for him. So unbothered by what everyone else had to say. You didn’t let the opinions of others get to you; you loved Bucky, end of story. You adapted to every hurdle and challenge brought on by dating the ex- Winter Soldier. And you did so with a smile.
“Okay, good. Then I guess our next stop is the bookstore,” he said with a small smile. You tried to turn and head in that direction, but Bucky caught your hand, stopping you. “And hey- if anyone on the way there gives you trouble, you just say the word, okay?” 
But no one gave you any trouble. The walk to the bookstore was quiet. Unremarkable. No one hollered close-minded comments at Bucky. No one gave either of you venomous glares. The calm shocked Bucky. He’d been so sure that this day would fall apart. That everyone who read that article would converge on the two of you all at once, harassing and degrading you until you retreated home. But no one said a word. The two of you simply strolled hand in hand, soaking in the warm summer sun. And Bucky’s hope for a perfect day renewed.
“I thought it would be in this section…” Bucky scanned the ‘fantasy’ section of the bookstore, searching for a specific novel. He took the high shelves, and you took the low, meeting in the middle after a fruitless search. 
“Yeah, I didn’t see it, babe,” you rose from your squatted position, two mystery novels under your arm. “Maybe you should ask an employee? I can stay here and keep looking, just in case we missed it.”
“Yeah…” Bucky gave the area another cursory glance, to no avail. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be right back.” He dotted a kiss to your forehead and set off in search of a clerk, leaving you behind to double check the shelves. 
The hundreds of books lined up in perfect rows put you at ease. This shop was the coziest place in the city, a peaceful paradise free from the noise. And spending a Saturday morning with Bucky, wandering amongst the many titles, felt like home. Your fingertips brushed over a few of the spines, tracing the ornate lettering in search of Bucky’s book. 
“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice brought you back to reality, halting your hunt. 
“Oh, sorry,” you took a few steps out of the stranger’s way and continued your search, only for her to interrupt once again. 
“No, I want to talk to you!” her intense energy was out of place in the small, quiet bookshop. The eagerness in her voice rubbed you the wrong way. “Is it true?”
You stared at her, a blank expression on your face. “Is what true?”
“The whole PR relationship thing!” She pulled out her phone and shoved the article in your face, “I read about you two this morning.”
Your hands tightened into fists. Your jaw tensed. And though you wanted to wring this woman’s neck, you kept your cool; Bucky wouldn’t want you to get into a fight on his behalf. With a deep breath, you quelled the rage building inside you. You set down your books and relaxed your shoulders, forcing your breathing to steady.
This stranger had no right to ask invasive questions about your relationship, and no right to ruin your favorite bookstore. “Our relationship is none of your business,” you said, and turned back toward the bookshelves. This stranger didn’t deserve your eye contact, your attention, or your mental space. “Please, leave me alone.”
“Oh, duh! I bet they made you sign an NDA, didn’t they? I get it,” she threw an all too friendly chuckle in your direction. “Can you at least tell me what they’re paying you?”
With that, you brushed past her and attempted an escape. All you wanted was to find Bucky and put this whole interaction behind you. But she followed, phone in hand, recording the whole thing. 
“Are you a criminal, too? Are you getting time off your sentence or something?” she called after you. 
You let it go.
“How’d they get you to agree to this arrangement?”
You ignored her.
“Aren’t you scared? I could never do what you’re doing,” she said. “No amount of money could ever get me to be near that man- he’s a serial killer. He’s a monster!”
Something inside you snapped. You whipped around, rage burning behind your eyes. She crossed the line. She didn’t know anything about Bucky, only what the papers and tabloids said about him. And she
deserved to pay the price for speaking about him so harshly. But just as you opened your mouth to tear her to shreds, a large hand rested on your shoulder. 
“Hey, doll,” Bucky stared down at you, “What’s-”
Your harasser’s eyes widened. “Oh my god,” pure terror rendered her white as a sheet. “It- it’s him…” Clumsy steps carried her backward as her phone slipped from her hand. She scrambled for it, desperate to run in the opposite direction. Breathless, horrified sounds fell from her lips. Her hands shook. You watched with a smile as she snatched her phone from the floor and tripped over herself as she high tailed it for the door.
Bucky eyed the woman as she knocked over displays and ran into other customers. “What was that about?”
You gave a shake of your head, “nothing. She was just hounding me about the article.” 
Bucky’s shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly. Hit brow grew furrowed. “Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t follow me around and ask me invasive questions.” You stretched up on your toes, planting a kiss to his cheek. “It’s not a big deal. I just hope I don’t end up on her Tik Tok.”
Bucky’s mouth fell open, “she was filming you?” 
You nodded. Bucky’s face fell. 
A rushed “Don’t worry about it, though” pushed its way past your lips. It had an over-the-top cheery tone and a thick affectation of reassurance. You could practically hear Bucky’s heart splintering and shattering with each passing second, and you had to stop it. “I’m sure she’s gonna watch it back later and delete it when she hears her own panicked panting,” you shot him a wink.
And you waited. Waited for the gears in Bucky’s mind to turn. To grind. The devil and angel on his shoulders fought one another, bare knuckled, to convince him of their arguments. The devil told him to spiral, to jump headfirst into a dark sea. He told Bucky this was all his fault, that you’d been harassed, followed, and filmed all because of him. The angel, however, urged him to listen to you. To take a deep breath. To hold your hand. To understand that the article wasn’t his fault- none of this was his fault. 
And after a long moment, he slipped his hand into yours. The gesture was a bit reluctant, sure, but you didn’t care. He’d resisted the urge to plummet into guilt and shame. And that’s all that mattered. 
You let loose a deep sigh as relief spread through your every cell. “Let’s get outta here, okay? We can head back home and-”
“What about breakfast?”
You eyed Bucky for a moment. “You still wanna go?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” he gave you a small smile. “I know how excited you were about it.”
Of course, all he cared about was you. Your happiness. Your enjoyment. Your love for this diner’s chicken and waffles.
“We can just go another time,” you assured him. “It’s no big deal.”
Bucky sensed the disappointment, no matter how slight in your voice. He couldn’t ruin this day for you. He couldn’t let you down again.
But he thought about the walk to the diner, the hordes of people you’d encounter on the way. And just like that, he felt his manufactured mask of optimism slip.
A sudden rush of what if’s pummeled his psyche. He imagined more harassers filming you, more unhinged strangers following you. He heard them yelling the most despicable things in your direction, hurling insult after insult your way. The voices grew into a loud, almost violent cacophony that rattled inside Bucky’s skull. 
He couldn’t let you be exposed to the cruel world like this. He couldn’t take you to breakfast when an angry mob threatened you at every turn. You didn’t deserve to be yelled at, to be disrespected. And what if they turned violent? What if someone followed the two of you home? He couldn’t risk your safety like that.
But he still had to make up for all his time away. All the lonely nights you spent awake, wondering if he was still alive. All the weekends you spent alone, missing him until it hurt. And he’d made a promise- to himself and to you- that he’d rectify the pain his absence caused. 
Plus, he had to be over-reacting, right? Assuming the worst out of people he didn’t even know- it wasn’t fair. Sure, a stranger followed you around and gave you a hard time. But she didn’t hurt you. She didn’t even try to get violent. It was all in Bucky’s head- he was sure of it. He made a conscious effort to release his shoulders from their tension-locked position and forced a deep breath into his chest. 
“No, doll, really. It’s okay,” he gave your hand a squeeze. “I can tolerate a few dirty looks.”
The second the two of you stepped out of the bookstore and onto the busy sidewalk, you clocked the way hung his head. The way he hid from the eyes of the city. He tried to shrink himself, to protect himself. The confidence, the self-esteem he’d worked so hard to build came crumbling down in an instant. This wasn’t your Bucky, but the Bucky of years before. The Bucky who hated every fiber of his being. The Bucky who took every harsh word spoken about him as gospel. The Bucky who punished his innocent body to make up for his tortured mind. 
The reemergence of this Bucky twisted the knife with which the article stabbed you and rubbed salt in the wound.
The walk to the diner brought out your chatty side. Filling the air with lighthearted anecdotes and silly jokes seemed to you like the only way to keep Bucky afloat. If you could distract him from the pain, from the potentially hateful onlookers, maybe this day could be salvaged. But, much to your surprise, not one person harassed the two of you. No one asked questions or followed you around. Not a single errant camera flash dotted the street. Hope rose in Bucky’s chest. Maybe this perfect day could still go as planned. Maybe he could still keep his promise.
When you arrived at the diner without issue, Bucky found himself almost laughing at his own dramatics. He knew he worried too much, that he always considered the worst possible outcomes. He saw the world through a dark and stormy filter, always casting shadows over reality. But to his delight, he’d been wrong this time.
The bell atop the diner door gave a delicate jingle as the two of you made your way inside. The place had an old-timey feel that brought Bucky a sense of comfort, a sense of home. Large families sat packed like sardines in every booth. Tray after tray of French toast and eggs benedict passed by. The smell of bacon and golden-brown pancakes instantly pulled his lips into a smile. It seemed to Bucky that this joint was the real deal. He couldn’t wait to try the chicken and waffles you raved about. Couldn’t wait for a syrup-sweetened kiss. 
“For two?” the hostess asked when you made your way to the front of the line. You gave her a nod. 
She eyed the section to her left, appraising the area for an opening as a busboy waved in her direction. “Okay, this way,” she grabbed two menus from the host stand and gestured for you to follow. 
But just as you attempted to trail her through the sea of tables, a booming voice caught your attention. 
“Hey!” 
The restaurant quieted. Heads turned in the direction of the outcry.
A large, gray-haired man with a soiled apron stepped into the hostess’s path, blocking her way. A deep crease formed between his furrowed brows. Sweat dotted his bright pink cheeks. This was the face of a man who stood over a hot grill for twenty-five years. He was familiar, but only vaguely so. You could’ve sworn you’d heard that voice before- though with a kinder intonation. And then it hit you.
During your last visit to the diner, he stopped by your table to ask how you liked the food. He was so kind, so even tempered. He thanked you for choosing to spend your Sunday morning at what used to be his father’s restaurant. He was so proud of the old place. So compassionate for its time-worn booths and outdated wallpaper. He told you how he worked in the kitchen for so long that now, even as the new owner and manager, he couldn’t stay away from the griddles. 
But the kind-hearted man you met last time was long gone.
“Not in my restaurant!” He ripped the menus from the hostess and dismissed her with a sharp wave of his hand. He glared at Bucky, his eyes brimming with hate. “We don’t serve murderers here!” 
The lighthearted chatter died out altogether. Forks stopped clinking against plates. Children halted their laughter. Hundreds of eyes locked on Bucky as his cheeks burst into a red flush.
“Get out before I call the police!” The man took a step toward the two of you, “You’re not welcome here, you psycho.”
“You can’t talk to him like that!” you barked back. “He isn’t-” 
“Baby, don’t,” Bucky cupped a hand around your upper arm and tried to gently pull you toward the door. “Let’s just go.”
“No,” you cut your gaze back to the manage, “not until he apologizes.”
Bucky gave your arm another tug, “please.”
The desperation in his voice nearly made you crack. His eyes swept across the room and back again, taking in each and every horrified stare. With each taunt the manager threw his way, the weight of the public eye grew heavier. More suffocating. Their stares pushed Bucky’s shoulders forward and his head down. He was crumbling.
Not one person stood up for Bucky. No one- aside from you- called the manager out. No patron even gave a disapproving shake of their head. It sickened you.
With a small nod, you obliged Bucky’s request, and let him lead you out of the restaurant. The stares followed him the entire way.
Bucky wanted to disintegrate. He wished to, once again, turn to dust and evaporate into the breeze. If he ran, he could put a few miles between himself and this godforsaken diner in minutes. But he found his feet rooted into the ground. He was frozen. Trapped. Running wasn’t an option.
He leaned against the cool glass window of the diner and let himself process. He heard you talking a mile a minute, reassuring him until you ran out of breath. But he couldn’t pick out more than a few words. It wasn’t until a defeated apology fell from your lips that he snapped out of his trance.
“Wait- you’re sorry?” 
You nodded. “I’m so sorry, Buck. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His gaze fell into a strange middle distance, landing on everything and nothing all at once. “I should apologize. That article… it ruined everything. I feel like I-” His eyes met yours, “your life is never gonna be the same after this.” 
You gave him a shrug, “who says I want it to be?”
His eyes met yours as an exasperated laugh left his chest, “You’re kidding, right? This is going to affect everything for you: jobs, housing, friendships. When people look you up online, all they’re gonna see is that article. They’re gonna see me.”
“Good. I want them to see you,” you said with a wink. “If I’m gonna date the hottest guy in the universe, I want everyone to know about it.” Bucky didn’t laugh. “Babe, I’m not worried about that kind of stuff right now. I’m worried about you.”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his gaze fall to the sidewalk below. “I’ve been through worse.” 
The worn-out, beaten down quality of his voice was enough to make you weep. Bucky didn’t deserve more pain. He didn’t deserve to be treated like a monster. But society cast him out and labelled him a vicious predator. They abandoned him, left him in a corner to rot and wither. All alone. 
And you weren’t going to let them do it again.
“Fuck that article and fuck all these people who wanna disrespect you.” You tilted his chin upward until his eyes met yours, “we’re gonna go home and order take out. We’re gonna watch some movies. And we’re gonna get through this bullshit together.”
Without another word, you slipped your hand into his and started off in the direction of home. But Bucky didn’t move. 
You turned back to him, an expectant look on your face. “You coming?”
“But…” he gave the diner another look, “You didn’t get your chicken and waffles.”
“What?”
“You should go back inside and eat,” Bucky pulled his hand from yours. “I’ll head home and-”
“Buck, I say this with love, but-” you cupped his face, “are you nuts?”
He let out a deep, genuine laugh. 
“I’m not gonna eat here ever again,” you spied the manager through the window, “fuck that guy.”
Bucky just wanted you to enjoy the breakfast you’d been dreaming of. He hated that you were willing to deprive yourself. That he’d ruined your special breakfast spot. But your fierce loyalty filled him with warmth. In that moment, he made a mental note. He planned to scour the internet and find the best chicken and waffles in the city to make up for today’s mess.  
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Bucky said. “You were ready to fist fight that guy.”
You put up your dukes and landed a few faux punches to Bucky’s chest, “hell yeah I was. No one is allowed to treat you like that.” Your hands fell to your sides. A sudden seriousness eclipsed your joking tone. “Ever.”
Bucky pulled you in for a hug, holding you close to his chest. He never thought he’d have someone like you in his life. Someone who loved him. Cared for him. Supported him. But, without fail, you had his back every time. You were his safe harbor, his soft place to land. 
Sometimes, he thought that maybe you were with him by accident. Maybe he was never meant to experience your gentle kind of love. Maybe he interrupted you on your path to someone else. Maybe he somehow got tangled in fate’s thread. But he didn’t care. 
You took Bucky’s hand once again, prepared to lead him in the direction of home, “Ready?” 
Bucky gave you a cheery nod, “let’s-”
“Fuck you, murderer!” a passerby shouted. He disappeared in a flash, bold enough to insult Bucky but cowardly enough not to hang around for the consequences. 
Bucky thought the man might’ve said something else as he bolted from the scene, but he didn’t quite catch it. He was too distracted by the vague sounds of discomfort grumbling out of your chest. 
“Doll? You alright?” 
Slowly, carefully, you turned to him. A look of shock yanked his features upward as he came face to face with the massive coffee stain covering your body. It splashed over the entirety of your chest, streaking down the front of your shirt. Steam still wafted from the drips running down your neck. Rogue droplets dotted your arms.  
“Oh my god…” Bucky didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help you. 
The boiling tidal wave seared through your skin, setting each nerve alight. You could’ve sworn it hit bone. The sudden rush of pain forced a trembling into your hands, an unsteadiness into your voice. A stinging rush of tears brimmed against your lash line, but you wouldn’t dare let them fall. Not when you could practically see Bucky choking on his guilt.
“Wow, I wish that asshole was more of a cold brew guy,” you joked. “And he ruined my favorite shirt with his shitty aim.”
Bucky’s chest seemed to fold in on itself. It shuddered and shrank, collapsing against his thundering heart. Each inhale was shallower, greedier than the last. Oxygen leeched from his lungs as the crushing panic set it. An ever-darkening shadow clouded the edges of his vision- but he couldn’t succumb. Not when you needed him. 
Before he knew what was happening, he used his body to form a protective shell around you. He ushered you toward the diner door, scanning the area for oncoming threats. No one else was going to get to you- not today, not ever. 
A deep sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest as he ushered you inside. Sure, it was only coffee. And you weren’t even the target. But every passing second brought a new, horrifying ‘what if’ to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. 
What if you’d been thrown to the ground? 
What if you’d been shot? 
What if vengeful people wanted to spill your blood as payment for Bucky’s crimes?
He thought he might throw up. 
But the second he made it to the hostess stand, his nausea dissipated. The fog clouding his mind cleared. You were his priority- everything else could wait. 
“Someone just threw hot coffee on her,” Bucky said to the hostess. His words came out quick, firm. “She needs ice now.”
The hostess’s features sunk with a heavy guilt. “Oh, shit. I-” She glanced across the room at the manager and watched him with narrowed eyes as he schmoozed with the regulars. “I’ll go grab some right now, give me one second.”
The seconds dragged. Anxiety coursed through Bucky, prickling at his every cell. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Bit down on the inside of his cheek. Anything to calm the worry. But he couldn’t help it; you were attacked- because of him. And he needed to remedy it as quickly as possible. 
“You doing okay?” He stared down at you, worry creasing his features.
You nodded, “yeah. Doesn’t hurt that bad anymore. I think all of my nerves have gone numb, ya know?” You attempt at humor sunk like lead. 
“Baby, I’m so-”
“What the fuck did I say?!” the manager stomped over to Bucky, his wrath on full display. “I’m calling the cops! I already kicked you out once-”
Bucky held up a hand in surrender, “We just need some ice- the hostess went to get it. As soon as she gets back, I’ll go.”
The manager rolled his eyes, “No- you don’t get anything from us. Leave! I’m calling the police!”
It was then that the hostess appeared with a large plastic bag full of ice. She looked at you with kind eyes, apologizing silently for her manager’s behavior. “Here you go. Is this enough? I can get more-”
“It’s plenty, really,” you hastily grabbed for the bag and pressed it to your scorched skin. The cool sensation flooded your senses, doing away with any remaining discomfort. “Thank you.”
“Great, you got your ice,” the manager spat, “now get out.”
Bucky thanked the hostess a hundred times over as guilt settled in his stomach. He knew she’d get in trouble for helping him. He knew the manager would scream at her- most likely in front of everyone. But she’d shown the two of you kindness. She did her best to help you in a moment of need, regardless of what others said. And it renewed Bucky’s faith in strangers- if only for a moment.
“How does that feel? Is it okay?” Bucky eyed the dripping bag of ice, the shivering in your fingers. “I can ask her for-”
“Hey! Do you speak English, or just Russian?” The manager yelled, “GET. THE FUCK. OUT. You understand?”
Part of Bucky wanted to disappear into a cave for a while. Wanted to hide from the ridicule. But he couldn’t check out. He couldn’t evaporate and leave you to fend for yourself. No, he’d made a promise to himself the day he met you; he swore he’d always protect you. And though he couldn’t stop the public from treating you with malice, he could at least get you home safely.
“Woah, hey- where are you going?” Bucky put a hand over yours, halting your attempt to open the diner door.
“Well, I don’t know if you heard the lovely manager of this fine establishment,” you said, “but he wants us to, and I quote, ‘get the fuck out’. So that’s what I’m doing.”
Bucky gave a fervent shake of his head, “No. You wait in here. I’m gonna get us a cab, and-”
“It’s okay, I’ll come with you.” You gave the door a tug, but Bucky kept it from budging.
“Don’t,” a dark seriousness clung to Bucky’s words. “I don’t want anything else happening to you.”
Bucky’s protective nature was always sweet. Always made you feel special. You couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled at your features. “Babe, it was just coffee-” 
“This time,” a grave look ghosted over his face. “It was just coffee this time.”
Bucky let his eyes drift to the busy sidewalk outside. Every stranger, every passing face posed a threat to your safety. Anyone could have a knife. A gun. And while Bucky was certain that the hot coffee had been meant for him- that you were simply collateral damage, an unintended target- he feared how the city might treat you. You’d already been followed, harassed, filmed, attacked. People saw you as fair game, as a token of retribution. An eye for an eye that made the city blind with hate.
“Can you just-” He dragged his gaze back to you, “will you please wait inside?”
Bucky couldn’t remember ever being this scared. Not on the train, not at Hydra. This was different; this was your life at stake. Your vulnerabilities exposed to the world. It was as if a magnifying glass sat posed above you, giving anyone and everyone a detailed look into your life. Bucky knew there wasn’t much time before the rays of the sun burned you alive.
“Okay, yeah,” you released the door handle, “I’ll stay in here.” It was the least you could do. 
He was deathly pale, his hand shaking with anxiety. He worried about you so intensely that you sometimes feared he’d get sick. And though no part of you wanted to send Bucky out there alone, you agreed. 
His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly; the whisper of a smile crossed his face. “Thank you,” he dropped a kiss to your forehead and headed outside to the world that hated him.
And hate him they did. You watched from the diner window, the scene that played out filling you with anguish. Not a single cab even slowed down for him. Vacant taxis turned off their lights as they approached- only to turn them back on once they’d passed. Bucky’s shoulders grew more slumped with each unsuccessful attempt at hailing a cab. His head drooped; his expression grew pained. This wasn’t fair. After his pardon, he’d worked so hard to earn the public’s trust, to reenter their good graces. He made his amends, went to therapy, even did a few interviews at Sam’s suggestion. 
One poorly written article in a shit-rag paper, however, was enough to send him back to square one.
All Bucky wanted was to get you home safely, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t even provide something that basic, that simple. He cursed himself relentlessly as taxi after taxi flew by. He was supposed to protect you, to take care of you. And yet, he was the reason for your pain. Your peril. It made him nauseous.
After countless failed attempts at securing a ride, Bucky turned to face you. He stared at you through the dirty glass, shame and disappointment dragging his features downward. For a long moment, he just stood there. Completely still. Passersby bumped into him every now and again. People muttered under their breath about him being in the way. But he didn’t move. He just looked at you, the person he loved most. You, the person he cared for above all else. You, the person he couldn’t protect. Couldn’t provide for. 
Part of him thought it best to just walk away. His absence would make your life easier, less chaotic. Safer. If he left you alone, maybe you’d find someone else. Someone normal. Someone better. Someone who could take you out to breakfast without putting you in harm’s way. Someone whose mere existence didn’t prompt strangers to scream at you in public. 
But he couldn’t leave you- ever. He was bound to you from day one. 
One last fruitless attempt at catching a cab sent his heart sinking down, down, down to the soles of his feet. And as he approached the diner with his tail between his legs, he felt himself stepping on it with each pace. He was so embarrassed, so ashamed. With a quick wave of his hand, he beckoned you to the door and popped his head inside. 
“Baby, could you…” he was almost too downtrodden to speak. “Could you get us a cab? No one will-” he cleared his throat, “No one will stop for me.”
The look on his face hurt worse than your scorched skin.
“Of course, Buck. Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”
It wasn’t lost on Bucky how quickly a cab stopped for you. It took less than a minute, maybe less thirty seconds. He stood on the sidelines, as far away from you as he could possibly get without leaving you defenseless. You looked good out there on your own, free from his burden. 
The cab ride home was quiet. Uncomfortable. The driver eyed Bucky in the rearview as though appraising a threat. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles lost all color. You swore you heard the gas pedal hit the floorboards more than once. The car sliced through traffic and screeched to a halt outside your building, throwing you forward in your seat. The seatbelt tightened against your scalded skin, pulling a groan from your throat.
“Thanks. Um,” Bucky handed the driver a wad of cash, “keep the change.” He kept his focus trained on you but couldn’t pretend he didn’t notice the way the driver flinched. The way his muscles yanked his body in the opposite direction. The way his hands shook as he took the money. Bucky wished to evaporate.
But he couldn’t, not yet. Not when you needed him. And so, he walked you upstairs and ushered you into the small apartment you shared. He double and triple checked the deadbolt, even pulled on the door to ensure your safety. He couldn’t let anything else happen to you- he’d rather die. 
“Alright, well, I’m gonna go take a shower,” you broke the tense silence. “I reek of cinnamon soy latte.” The laugh that punctuated your sentence did nothing to brighten Bucky’s stormy expression. 
“Sounds good, doll,” he nodded. “You can just drop your clothes in the hall, I’ll throw them in the laundry for you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you frowned down at your coffee-stained shirt, appraising the damage done. “I don’t think this thing can be saved.”
Bucky shrugged, “It couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, “it’s the least I could do.” And with a light tap to your ass, he sent you off to shower. The gesture wasn’t as lighthearted as it was just a few hours earlier, but he was trying. Trying to appear less dejected. Less broken.
But you saw through the façade.
When you emerged, free from the smell of coffee, you found Bucky in the kitchen standing over the kettle. He stared down at it, his hands resting on either side of the stove top, his shoulders nearly reaching his ears. You knew that look- he was lost inside his own head. 
“You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to watch that thing…” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought. “Otherwise, it’ll never boil.” 
His head snapped up. The darkness clouding his eyes parted. He smiled at your lame joke, letting your lighthearted tone lift his spirits. “I was just gonna make you a tea, I know you haven’t had the easiest day.” He just wanted to right the ship, to steer the two of you out of the dark, choppy waters in which you found yourselves. Maybe, this small, kind gesture could make up for your ruined Saturday. Maybe, it would keep you from leaving. 
“How was your shower?”
Just thinking about it made you wince. “It was fine, I guess. I had to use the coldest water possible- any warmth at all made my skin hurt.” 
Bucky’s eyes flicked from your face to the kettle and back. Worry creased his brow. “Should I not…” He sighed, “Are hot beverages out of the question?” He couldn’t believe how absentminded he’d been. 
“No! Definitely not,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “you know I’ll always take a tea. Thanks, babe.”
A small, proud smile spread across Bucky’s face. For once, he didn’t disappoint you. For once, he didn’t ruin the moment. After such a nightmarish day, he finally breathed easy, knowing that he’d done one thing right.
“I was thinking I could run out and grab us something to eat,” Bucky said when he got you settled on the couch with your tea and a fresh ice pack. “I know you’re probably starving. And I could-”
“Baby, no,” you shook your head. “I don’t want you out there- I don’t want you getting harassed or attacked. We’re in hermit mode for a few days until this whole thing blows over. Okay?”
Bucky barely mustered a nod. 
“Let’s just order some take out. What sounds good?” You dropped your ice pack to the side, grimacing at the loss of the cool sensation. But comfort could wait. You opened your laptop and sat up, poised to take Bucky’s order. But he didn’t answer. 
He remained silent for a long while, eyeing the floor with a blank stare. His nails dug into the palm of his hand; his jaw tensed. Something deep within him fought tooth and nail to claw its way out. It scratched at his insides, screaming for release. Bucky didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to even chance upsetting you. But the words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.
“Do you ever regret this?”
You cocked your head to the side, “Regret what?”
“This-” Bucky gestured to himself, and then you. “Us.”
The words hurt worse than your scorched chest. “No. Why would you even say that?”
Bucky shrugged, “Because you’re covered in second degree burns and it’s my fault.” Never before had he ever sounded this broken, this hopeless. Not even after Steve left. 
“Buck, it’s not your fault,” you shut your computer and inched closer to him. “You’re not the one who threw hot coffee on me-”
“But the person who did was aiming for me, and you got caught in the crossfire,” he choked out. “That’s my fault.”
“It’s not-”
He stood suddenly, his anxiety forcing him to move. “Can you deal with this for the rest of your life? All the staring and the harassment? And the hiding at home because everyone hates me? Is that the kind of life you want?” He paced with a fervent drive, fearing that if he didn’t burn through the nervous energy, he’d suffocate under it.
But, even in the face of his frantic movements, you remained seated, remained calm. Talking to Bucky in this state was like coaxing an injured animal into your home. One wrong move, and he’d bolt. Every move, ever word, had to be slow, measured. With an even tone and soft words, you refuted his sentiments. “I want whatever kind of life lets me be with you-”
“You want people throwing coffee on you forever? You want-” He paused, only to place your icepack on your chest once again. “You want to be kicked out of restaurants and denied cabs? Just to be with me?”
One small nod. “Yes.”
Bucky stopped in his tracks. He turned to you, his expression blank. “People used to vandalize my apartment, you know…”
“What?”
He nodded. “After I finally came back to New York and tried to settle in…” The memories of those uncomfortable, disjointed days filled Bucky with dread. He’d never been so lonely, so lost. He pulled away from you, fearing he’d complicated your life. He forced himself into isolation. And to make matters worse, his community turned their back on him. They didn’t welcome him home or celebrate his survival. They made him wish he’d never made it back. “They broke my windows, filled my mailbox with pictures of my victims, used animal blood to write ‘KILLER’ across my front door-” He let out a heavy sigh, one that came from deep within his bones. “That’s why I moved so often. My landlords- no matter how sketchy they were, no matter how much illegal shit they did to their tenants- kept kicking me out. I was too much of a liability, even for those shithole places.”
It left you reeling. Images of Bucky coming home to find his place completely trashed hurt you in a way you didn’t know was possible. You could see him, covered in blood, scrubbing his front door in the middle of the night. Wiping tears from his eyes as he looked through piles of photos of the people he hurt. Taping pieces of cardboard over his broken windows in the hopes of keeping out the severe, violent winters. He didn’t deserve any of it.
With a deep breath, you forced yourself back to the present. “Buck, I don’t care about things like that. They can vandalize our place if they want. They can throw coffee at me.” Slowly, carefully, you rose from the couch. “As long as nothing happens to you, I’m happy.”
A rough scoff launched out of Bucky’s throat, “Come on-”
“No, you come on,” Your words came out too intense, too hard. But you couldn’t maintain your even keel anymore. Not when Bucky was moments from unraveling. “I have been in this with you since the day we met. I knew- almost immediately- that you were the person I wanted to be with. Even when you didn’t know where- or who- you were. Even when you went back into cryo. Even when you turned to dust and disappeared for five years.” Dredging up the past hurt. It sliced you open and tore your heart into pieces. But you didn’t dare fall apart- not yet. “Even when you pushed me away,” your voice wavered, “I have been with you- and I always will be. Because I know who you are. I know you’re a good person.” A few tears dripped down your cheeks, “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.“
“Why?” Bucky shook his head, “I don’t- I can’t understand that.”
“Because you’re just- you’re you, baby,” you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Bucky’s existence. “You’re kind. And you’re thoughtful. And you’re compassionate. You care about everything. Everyone. I’ve never met anyone with a heart like yours…” You shrugged, “I love you. So much.”
“I know you do. And I love you, but…” His eyes dropped to the floor, “I feel like being with me is a waste of your time. A waste of your love. You know? You should be with someone good. Someone with less baggage, whose hands aren’t stained with the blood of innocent people.” He dragged his gaze up to meet yours, desperation in his eyes. “I want to give you everything- I want to give you the world. But I can’t. I can’t give you what other people can. I can’t give you what you deserve.”
“I don’t want any of that- I don’t want the world,” you shrugged. “I want you.” To you, it was simple. Completely uncomplicated. But Bucky didn’t see it that way.
“Is that- am I enough, though? I mean, the quality of life I’ve given you so far has been…” He thought back on all the terrors and trials you’d face together. All the disasters to which he subjected you. He shuddered. “Everything I put you through is so fucking messed up. And scary. And painful. And-” 
He shook his head. Since the day he fell for you, he knew one simple truth. And for years, he did his best to deny it. Hide it. Run from it. But it came spilling forward all at once.
“There’s always gonna be something with me. Some problem, some mess. I’m either gone for weeks, fighting god knows who, completely unable to talk to you until I show up at home covered in blood,” he said. “Or I’m here with you while strangers to accost you on the street because they hate me.” He shook his head, disappointed in himself. Why did he allow you into his dumpster fire of a life? Why would he subject you to the heartache and the misery he knew lurked around every corner?
He fought the tears gathering in his eyes, the emotion that attempted to block his airway. “The waters are never going to be smooth. Not with me. And I don’t want you to have to deal with the fucking tidal wave of bullshit that is my life. You deserve better- you deserve better than me.”
“Buck-”
“I want your life to be safe. Peaceful. Comfortable. Not-” he gestured to the icepack on your chest, “whatever it is now.”
Without a word, you took him by the hand and led him to the couch. And for a long moment, he refused to sit with you. He didn’t want to give in, to lower his defenses and allow himself to get comfortable. But your red-rimmed eyes, glassy with tears, forced him to take a seat.
And when he finally rested beside you, you ditched your icepack and took his face in your hands. “Everything you said that you want for me? I already have it. I have all of that.”
He shook his head, “Doll-” 
“You make me feel safer and more comfortable than I ever have. Being with you is like being wrapped in a warm blanket made of bullet proof bubble wrap.”
Bucky couldn’t stop himself from letting out a quiet laugh. 
“I’m serious. You can talk about how the life I lead with you isn’t enough and how you’re not enough, but this,” you gestured to yourself and then him, “is everything I’ve ever wanted. Being here with you in our home is… it’s the most peace I’ve ever known. Even when we’re just sitting in silence, it’s- it’s warm. It’s comforting.” You inched closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s like we’re the only two people on the planet. And we can just exist in the other’s atmosphere without pressure or fear. We understand each other. And it’s perfect.”
A rush of pink colored Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes, even after all the years he’d spent with you, he didn’t know how to handle such loving sentiments. But there was no pressure to perfectly articulate his thoughts or express himself without flaws. A simple “I love you” did the trick. He leaned into you, allowing your warmth to soothe his aching soul.
“All that shit that happened today didn’t even bother me much,” you told him. “The lady in the bookstore, and the staring, and the coffee thing- I can deal with that kind of stuff. I can take that every day as long as I get to be with you.”
He pressed a kiss to your hair and caught a vague whiff off coffee but didn’t bring it up. 
“The only part that really upset me,” you continued, “was seeing people be so mean to you. And watching you get so down on yourself.” Reliving Bucky’s heartbroken expression at the diner almost made you tear up. “I can handle a rogue Starbucks, but I’ll never accept anyone treating you like that. You're everything to me- you always will be.”
Bucky handed you your icepack, begging you to put it back on your scalded skin where it belonged. “Well, I appreciate your support," he smiled to himself, "and your fierce loyalty.”
A mischievous laugh rumbled out of your chest. “Good. Just remember than when I call you from the county jail after I get arrested for burning that fucking newspaper to the ground.”
---------------
Taglist: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo
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bo0tleg · 3 months
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GEMS MY FRIEND SAID WATCHING TOP GUN (1986) FOR THE FIRST TIME:
"Look at those thighs! He's gotta be sitting on a dick, there ain't no way!" (about a random engineer in the opening sequence)
"This guy is too handsome to be a rando" (it was, indeed, a rando)
"Fifteen minutes in and I have no idea who the protagonist is." "Do you know what Tom Cruise looks like?" ".... No."
*Thought Cougar was gonna be the protagonist, was confused as hell when he left*
"The baldo is boring, but I think were gonna keep seeing him throughout the movie." "No, we're not." "We're not? Oh, thank god."
"Whoop, spotted the gay one. That wasn't even hard."
"That guy (Chipper) looks russian." "Nope." "No? What about that one (Slider)?" "It's the middle of the Cold War." "..... So?"
"A gay couple already? Wow."
"The blondie is trying to flirt while the other one is too concentrated on the rivalry."
"OH HELL NAH."
"Every old movie just feels the need for random straight romance– OH SHIT THAT'S HER? HE'S SO FUCKED." (In the scene where Charlie is 'officially' introduced)
"HOLD UP!" *Rewinds the scene* "What kind of flirting is that?" *Plays the scene again* "Did he just... Chomp? At him?"
"He has chemistry with her, but she doesn't want any chemistry with him. I mean, I can see she's attracted to him, but I think she just wants a quick lay." (Repeated this Every. Single. Time. Maverick and Charlie had a scene together.)
"Ah yes, the hetero scene that actually looks really gay." Later, remembering the scene: "How the fuck are you gonna play sports looking like a hot piece of ass without looking gay? You're not supposed to be hot! You're supposed to slap that fucking ball, not be like 'hahaha look at me, I'm so dainty and pretty.' THAT'S GAY!"
"It's cute, Goose treats him like a father would." "Don't you mean an older brother?" "No, he's too gentle for that. They'd be killing each other."
"See, Goose's wife treats him like an older sister would. By annoying him."
Charlie, on screen: "(...) Because I've fallen in love with you." "NO YOU FUCKING HAVEN'T, SHE'S JUST SAYING THAT FOR HIM TO STAY! SHE'S JUST SAYING WHAT HE WANTS TO HEAR TO KEEP HIM THERE!"
*Loud disgruntled noises I could hear from the kitchen over the sex scene*
"That's the one with the hard on!"
"I want more scenes of the blondie (Ice) and Maverick, I don't care about fucking planes."
"Did he die? Oh, no he's fine, the chute is there. Wait, he did die? NO!"
"Did he really need to be in his underwear for this conversation?"
"How cute, he's worried about Mavericks mental health. Shit."
*Screams*
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU IDIOT? SHE LEFT YOU AFTER YOUR BEST FRIEND DIED!" "And put on a song that reminds him of his parents." "AND PUT ON A SONG THAT REMINDS YOU OF YOUR DEAD PARENTS!"
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reysdriver · 1 year
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One Call | E.M.
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Eddie calls you to pick him up from the police station — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff
warnings: eddie gets taken to the police station for peeing in the lake lol
words: 0.8k
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“Alright, you know the drill. Someone’s gotta pick you up; you get one call.” Your dad told Eddie, even though they had been through this routine before. “Your uncle again?”
Eddie shook his head. “Nah, Wayne’s out of town. Fishing trip with his buddies. He told me not to bother him unless it’s an emergency.”
“This doesn’t qualify as important enough to call?” One of the officers piped up. 
Eddie turned his neck to look at the cop. “Nope. This is just a normal Tuesday for me.”
Your dad held the phone out for your boyfriend. “Well, you got anyone else you can call?”
Eddie held back a mischievous grin, taking the phone. “I have one person I can call, but I don’t think you’re gonna be happy about it.”
✦✧✦✧✦
You rushed down to the station as quickly as possible, only making one stop along the way to grab a peace offering from Benny’s. Before going inside, you looked through the window to scan the tone of the building, making sure it was okay to go inside. 
You opened the door and saw Eddie in handcuffs at one of the officers’ desks, twirling a pen with his fingers. Before he got the chance to look up at you, your dad came out from his office looking surprised to see you. 
“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing here?” He asked. 
You held out the take-out bag for him. “I, uh, I brought you lunch.”
“She’s got ulterior motives, Hopper!” Eddie piped up from across the room. You turned and shot him a glare, along with a whispered 'shut up'. 
Your dad looked confused, now starting to understand the food you brought. "What's he talking about?"
There was an awkward silence as you tried to figure out how to word the reason you were really here. 
"Well, Dad, I'm also here to pick Eddie up." 
He dropped the takeout bag on the nearest desk and pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, who sported a smirk. 
“This punk?” Your dad asked, raising his voice. “You’re friends with this punk?”
Much to your dismay, Eddie spoke up again. “Dating, actually. But I can’t believe it either, Hopper, honestly.”
Even in the tensest of moments, your Eddie still finds a way to flatter you. You wanted to smile and thank him, but then you remembered he was just brought into the police station and hadn’t told you why, so you stopped yourself. 
“Yeah, Dad, I am. And I know that you can’t stop me from bailing him out, so give me the form to sign.”
The officer whose desk Eddie was sitting at handed you a clipboard and a pen so you could sign and say that you would bail him out and keep him out of trouble for the time being. You flashed a cocky smile to your dad and started filling out the blanks. 
Your dad rubbed his forehead like he was tired of everyone around him—which he was. “Don’t give her the clipboard until I’m done scolding her.” He mumbled. 
“You know I brought him in for pissing in Lover’s Lake with his punk friends, right?”
You did not know that. But you weren’t going to let him win this round. 
“Oh, like Lover’s Lake isn’t already full of piss!” You countered.
“Is that really the hill you want to die on?” 
You forcefully handed the completed clipboard to the officer while rolling your eyes. 
“I don’t want to die on any hill, I just want to pick up my boyfriend!”
Eddie gasped happily as the man took off his handcuffs. “She called me her boyfriend.”
You had to admit, it made you happy too. Even though you were mad at everyone in the room, your angry expression morphed into a smile. “I know, it felt good to say.” You then turned back to your dad. “I’m going now. If you have more to say to me, we can talk tonight.”
With that, you and your boyfriend started walking towards the door. He opened it for you and motioned for you to go first. You started to walk out, but shot a glare at Eddie as you walked by. He messed up and he knew it. 
Before Eddie closed the door behind you, your dad shouted one last thing at you. “You know, kid, just ‘cause he’s out of trouble, doesn’t mean you are!”
You looked back at him through the doorway. “Oh, believe me, Dad, he’s not out of trouble yet!”
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minhosimthings · 7 months
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Threesomes with Enha's hyung line
Pairings: Fem!reader × Enha hyung line (separate, poly relationships)
Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, Poly relationship, fingering, oral (receiving and giving), spanking, degradation, hair pulling, edging, slight dom!reader
A/N: guys look I'm really kinda dead rn and I've written the next two chapter of hold me Without hurting me but I DONT WANNA POST THEM I DONT KNOW WHY. So enjoy some of my dumb opinions while I stalk off to the rabbit hole of HeeJake fics (yes even the fluff ones) also it's my first time writing threesomes and I kinda enjoyed it for some reason (no it's not because I like the idea of two people domming my pathetic sub ass nope)
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HeeJake/Ramyeonz: Heeseung + Jake
Ok maybe im just biased and too much of a simp for them I am but I genuinely believe they would be the best to fuck at the same time, because of their duality in bed. Like they could be the best degraders or the best praisers, based on your mood. Imagine coming home one day, all exhausted and so needy, to find your boyfriends sitting and watching football. And them, being them, would rush at the image of you pouting and begging, and take you upstairs at the speed of lightning. Hee would go first, obviously with the elder card, and would rile you up and edge you to the brink of insanity, not allowing you to cum, with the reason of "we gotta let Jake get his turn too, right?", whispering in your ear. Jake would be sitting obediently in the corner, boner ripping his pants, getting turned on wildly by the sound of your moans of Heeseung's name. When Jake would get in with you, who was already sweaty and panting, he would give you the greatest pleasure of your tiny life, finishing all the orgasms which Heeseung had refused you. They would also be the best subs for you, calling you mommy and begging to suck on your tits while they layed in bed with you. Of course how could you say no to those adorable Bambi eyes and those breedable puppy ones? And that is why ladies and gentlemen, I think Ramyeonz would be the best to have threesomes with. (I am definetly not biased nope)
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HeeJay: Heeseung + Jay
Ahh yes the two oldest of Enhypen. Also known as the softest doms of the dom universe and no I'm not exaggerating. Like they know when you need to have soft comfort sex and when you need to be absolutely destroyed for being the brat that you are. Ngl you being a brat is the best scenario for them because look, as much as they respect you and your sexual space, sometimes they need to fuck you like you're their personal sex toy, and you'd be willing to do that. Imagine, you're just fucking yourself with that expensive pink vibrator from Paris itself, courtesy to Jay not wanting his princess to be bored, and Heeseung just walks in, trying to find his fitness watch, and sees you fucking your cunt, and smirks, leaning against the doorway, and calls for Jay, even though you had begged him not too, knowing that he wouldn't be too pleasured at knowing that you were fucking yourself without permission. And let's just do an RIP to your pussy that day, what with Jay and Heeseung fucking you, one cock in your pussy, the other in your ass, filling up both your holes. Jay would whisper words into your ear from behind, "Fucking yourself were you, kitten? Without your daddy's permission?" And Heeseung would just smirk at you, knowing that you couldn't see Jay's face from behind. And of course your ass is gonna be red as a tomato, after Jay is finished with slapping it. THEY ARE AFTER CARE KINGS THO I WILL DIE BY THIS HILL. jdjksjsb jay just slowly washing you off in the shower and Heeseung putting on your skincare AND YOU JUST GO TO SLEEP WITH TWO HUNKS WITH YOU LIKE GIRL YOU DONT EVEN NEED A BLANKET TO KEEP YOU WARM.
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SeungSung/HeeHoon:Heeseung + Sunghoon
Babe. Babe. BABE. Let me tell you THIS DUO IS FOR ALL MY DEGRADATION GIRLIES. Sunghoon's our main degrader and sometimes Heeseung would join in too, telling you that you are nothing more that just their personal sex toy. Angry sex would be the best with them, because duh? Mr Park Sunghoon of Usa just swearing so much into your ear and Mr "playboi" Lee Heeseung whispering the dirtiest shit ever. Heeseung would allow Sunghoon to go first and just sit back and watch as Sunghoon thrusts into you and all you do is whimper, with your hands ties tightly to the bed frame and your legs spread farther than my expectations (they're too far). Sunghoon, of course wouldn't allow you to cum ("Only good girls deserve to cum and you're not much one are you baby?), Until Heeseung gets up, having been getting off in the corner, and leans over your tired face, eyes almost about to roll to the back. "Shh baby." He would whisper, not wanting Sunghoon to hear him, "Hoonie didn't allow you to cum? Aww it's alright, I'll make you cum until it stains the entire bedsheet." And ofcourse Mr Lee would go in with his tongue, having decided that you had enough cock for one day and he made sure, that he got a taste of heaven that night, giving Sunghoon a bit of it too, afterwards.
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JayKe/DoubleJ: Jay + Jake
Ahem. AHEM I COMMAND YOUR ATTENTION FOR THE MOST CONFUSING SEX YOU'LL EVER HAVE. Look, Jay and Jake are both sweethearts when it comes to sex and both of them can be like the most sub doms ever. So I'm thinking about you just domming both of them all the time, calling them your good boys. And I have a tingling that they would be THE SHYEST SUBS EVER like they would just mumble whenever they would want something. “Good boys use their words. You’re honestly pathetic.”, say that sentence and they're dead. They would continue fucking against your thigh, when you wouldn't allow them to fuck you , cocks growing red and even more sensitive. “Faster” You would spit, and they would whine yet obey at your commanding tone, hips snapping against your smooth thigh. Their hips would shake and stutter, and it would only be a few minutes. They would be leaking all over you and throbbing, pretty cocks a mess for you. JayKe are for all my dom girlies. (Who I am in love with please dom my pathetic sub ass)
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Jayhoon - Jay+Sunghoon
Daddy kink is kinking saur much with this duo. They would love to spoil you so much like you're their little princess. Even under the sheets, they would treat you so much, making sure your cum lasts long. “Go ahead,” you would nod, when they'd wake you up in the middle of the night, begging to fuck you. Jay wouls start to kiss your neck, while Sunghoon would start rubbing your clit, with you moaning into the pillow. Before you know it, Sunghoon would put two fingers in you, while Jay would put his cock in from behind. “You love when we make you feel good, don’t you baby? You're our good girl aren't you? Our princess?” BAM you're dead. (I NEED THEM SO BAD)
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JakeHoon: Jake + Sunghoon
Ah yes, the best friend duo of Enhypen. Honestly my brain is kinda short circuiting at what a threesome with them would be like, because they're the complete opposite of each other (as every best friend duo is lol). If you ever made Sunghoon jealous one day and going home he just doesn't talk to you at all and ignores you and ofcourse our Jake, being the sweetheart that he is tries to cheer you up, eating you out upstairs, without Sunghoon knowing and telling you to keep your moans in. But then again, Sunghoon being Sunghoon finds out about Jake having you all to himself and just sits in front of the bed, watching as Jake pushes deeper into your cunt, while your hands are tied to the bedframe and you're still not being allowed to moan to the point that tears start coming out. "I'm done. Wanna finish her?" Jake would say slowly pulling out and wiping his mouth. Sunghoon would just silently nod and get on top of you, spreading your legs, with his nails digging into your skin. "No cumming till I say so, alright?" He would glare into your soul, making you whimper. And the night would will away withe Jake and Sunghoon taking turns to put their cocks inside of you, not allowing you to cum until you're on your knees, begging like (in Sunghoon's words) their dumb cumslut. (Also meow look at the picture sosndnsjwi)
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preeningpisces · 2 months
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Sukuna NSFW Headcanons
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Lemme know if you want me to elaborate or write something about any of these ♥️
18+ content below, mdni, implied chubby f!reader, dark content
TW: implied non-con, mentions of death, Sukuna is not nice!!!
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♛ Boy oh boy. Mr. Monsterfucker wet dream himself
♛ For starters, make no mistake: Sukuna gives absolutely zero fucks about your pleasure. You’re there solely to please him, and it makes no difference whether you enjoy it or not
♛ Knows where the clit is, he just doesn’t give a fuck lmfao
♛ I think one thing that would make him actually intelltionally please you--which is very rare, but happens on occasion when he's in a good mood---is sounds. If you make sounds of pleasure he likes, he’ll try to get more out of you. Again, not for your benefit. It's purely because it brings him some satisfaction. It’s the same with sounds of pain tho, oof
♛ Not very noisy, but doesn’t stifle any sounds either. Definitely a grunter. Talkativeness depends on his mood
♛ I definitely agree with the notion that he’d have concubines. As we know him now, I can’t imagine him falling for anyone or being loyal
♛ With that in mind, Sukuna doesn’t really have a type. His concubines all look very different. Yuki asks Sukuna what his type is and he just says pussy
♛ One thing he appreciates about you is how your soft body fills his hands. With him being humongous, having someone larger just feels more comfortable. Sometimes he just wants that vava-voom if you know what I mean. Also enjoys how your thighs feel when you're riding him--their softness rippling against his muscles
♛ That’s not to say Sukuna doesn’t have preferences, I just don’t think they’d be consistent, or that he’d care enough to pick up on a pattern. He just sees someone & knows ‘I’d stick my dick in them’ or ‘Uraume feed me this ugly hoe’
♛ OF COURSE he has a double-decker dick!! The one on the bottom is more sensitive. He likes having one of his concubines riding the top one, and another sucking his cock and balls
♛ His cum shoots--it gets airtime. Think that scene in Devilman Crybaby
♛ Without a doubt a sadist, in every way. Making you cry, making you bleed, & hurting you all get him going. Big on dacryphilia, and degratation
♛ Absolutely nooooot going to be submissive. Nope no way, especially not to some lowly human or sorcerer such as yourself. He’d have to see you as an equal, and even then, I’m not sure he would
♛ Not submissive but lowkey a pillow princess LMFAO you gotta do all the work. He just lazes while you suck him off or ride him
♛ When he’s in the mood he treats you like a fleshlight. If he legitimately railed you, it would do permanent damage. Mfer is 8ft tall—if he were to actually pound you with vigor you’d DIE. In fact, he probably does that when he doesn’t care to keep someone….yikes let’s not think about that
♛ Honestly I don’t imagine he’s that freaky or kinky. Really just wants to blow his load in (or on) someone pretty & that’s about it
♛ The freakiest thing he does is use his tummy tongue—largely because it frightens you & his other concubines bc, yknow, he could legit eat you. Also, he just wants to eat some pussy every now & then, and there’s no way he would lower his head or kneel for anyone
♛ He eats pussy for his own pleasure, not yours, but that tongue is so big and slippery you usually cum anyway. Doesn’t stop until he’s had his fill
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 11 months
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Too Old
Dean Winchester x little sister!reader
Synopsis: Dean confronts you about a strange habit, and you have to confess something to him.
Author’s note: hey guys! Currently obsessed with supernatural (I’m very late to the fandom, and just about done the first season), so I took a tiny break from my Sherlock series to write this! Maybe there’ll be more Winchesters in the future, we’ll see!
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“Y/N, why is your stupid dog on my bed again?”
You returned from the measly motel breakfast only to find Dean glaring at you, holding your stuffed dog with two fingers like it was made of acid. You bounded forward, snatching it up out of his hands.
“Gee I don’t know, why are you stealing him?” You hugged the animal to your chest, a feigned innocent expression on your face as you looked up at your big brother. At Sam’s light chuckle, you dropped the expression and giggled, punching Dean playfully on the arm when his glare hardened. “Aw c’mon, you gotta admit that was kinda funny.”
Dean only rolled his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, hilarious. Seriously though, keep the dog on your own bed.”
You scoffed.
“What bed?”
Every motel you went to, your big brothers instantly claimed the two beds, leaving you with the fold out couch. Every. Time.
Dean quirked his eyebrow, staring down at you.
“Someone’s feeling sassy this morning.”
You ignored him, turning around to stuff your dog in your backpack and double-checking that you had everything packed. Dean turned his back on you to do the same, tossing over his shoulder-
“Aren’t you a little old for that stuffed dog anyway?”
Your hands stilled, nearly dropping your bag before you regained your composure quickly before your brothers noticed.
“Nope, I don’t care what you say,” gosh, if only that were true, “I’m not tossing him out.”
Dean just scoffed and, you assumed, rolled his eyes.
“Alright, whatever. Hurry up, I wanna get out of here.”
Not twenty minutes later, you were on the road again, another days-long drive ahead of you. When darkness fell and the moon arose, you dug around in one of the bags for a blanket, pulling out your dog with it and cuddling up in the back for some rest. You pressed the soft fur of the stuffed animal up against your face, breathing in its calming scent contentedly.
“You alright back there?” Dean’s gruff voice broke the silence, and you mumbled a positive response as you shifted, trying to get comfortable enough to get to sleep.
Two days later, the pattern started over again. Checking into a motel for the night, the fold-out couch, the small bag by your side filled with only the necessities–you weren’t staying long. You never did. And that was fine, just fine.
What wasn’t fine was the next step in the pattern. You awoke in the middle of the night, the back of your neck and your forehead drenched in sweat, your breathing labored. Another nightmare, stupid, stupid nightmare, of yet another stupid, stupid monster attacking you. Was it a monster? Maybe it was a demon tonight. Not that it mattered, you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again either way. You hugged your stuffed dog to your chest and tried to breathe in its scent, before you remembered that you had washed it with the blankets as soon as you’d gotten to the motel.
Sighing in annoyance, you stood with the dog in hand, tip toeing over to Dean’s bed before hesitating. Would he get mad? Would he be suspicious about finding the animal in his bed again? No, you wouldn’t let him, you’d just have to get up before he did in the morning and take it back before he noticed. He couldn’t figure it out, he just couldn’t. You’d die of embarrassment if your big brother ever found out the real reason that he kept finding your dog in his bed.
You’d just have to be more careful next time.
Despite your surety that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again after the nightmare, after hours of tossing and turning, trying to rid yourself of the demons that haunted your dreams, you finally fell asleep. Unfortunately, because it took you so long to fall asleep, you didn’t wake up before your brothers in the morning, as you usually did.
“Y/N,” a voice cut through your sleep just as a hand shook your arm, “Y/N c’mon, time to get ready.”
You groaned, rolling over and blinking up to see Dean hovering above you, just before something dropped onto your head. You grabbed at it with your hand, and pulled it away enough to look at it. When you saw what it was, your stomach dropped.
Your dog. You’d left it in Dean’s bed again, and you hadn’t gotten up to retrieve it.
Dean was frowning at you, “That thing was in my bed again. Why do you keep putting it there? I know it’s not getting there on its own, and I know that Sam’s not determined enough in pranking me to lose precious minutes of sleep just to put this darn thing in my bed.”
You shook your head groggily, trying desperately to hide both your guilty look and your embarrassment as you shoved the animal into your bag.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I didn’t do that.”
Dean grabbed your arm and turned you to face him.
“Come on, don’t give me that, I know when you’re lying,” He sighed. “Look, you’re not in trouble or anything, I’m not mad. It’s not that big of a deal, I just can’t figure out why you’re doing it.”
You shook your head.
“Dean, I mean it, I’m not-”
“Hey!”
Dean’s sudden change in tone made you flinch. You hadn’t expected him to get so persistent about something so small, but you should’ve known him better than that. He never let anything go.
“I told you, I’m not mad. I just want to know. C’mon, you can tell me anything.”
You weren’t so sure about that, but you also knew that Dean wouldn’t drop this no matter what you said. You figured you might as well get it over with now, with Sam out–probably getting coffee. The less people who had to hear your confession, the better.
“It smells like you,” You kept your voice so quiet, you almost hoped Dean hadn’t heard you.
“What?”
Ok, that backfired. Now you wished he had heard you, so you didn’t have to repeat it.
“When I leave it on your-on your bed. It smells like you.”
Dean was frowning at you now, curiosity covering his features.
“I don’t understand.”
You cleared your throat, blinking rapidly and trying desperately to look anywhere in the room but at Dean’s face.
“I leave it on your bed, because then it smells like your cologne. It-it’s a nice smell, it helps me sleep.”
Dean was trying desperately to catch your eye, but you wouldn’t let him.
“Ok,” Dean said slowly, thinking through your explanation. “You could’ve just sprayed my cologne on it, I wouldn’t have stopped you.”
You huffed in frustration, your cheeks growing more flushed with embarrassment by the second.
“It’s not just-just your cologne. It’s like this mix of your cologne and shampoo and-” you stopped your rambling, too embarrassed to go on. “Look, just forget it, ok? If it really bugs you so much, I can stop.” You swallowed hard, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t tell you to stop. You were having a hard enough time sleeping as it was, you weren’t sure how well you would do if Dean made you stop your little routine.
Dean shook his head.
“No, no it doesn’t bug me. I just don’t get it.”
Your lip was quivering now, and the longer Dean penetrated you with his stare the more you felt like crying.
“It’s just…it reminds me of-of when you used to let me sleep in your bed. When I was having a nightmare,” your breath caught when you felt a tear trailing down your cheek. You really didn’t want to cry in front of Dean, but his gentle, yet firm grip on your arm told you that you wouldn’t get out of this conversation easily. “But since you said I’m to-too old for that, I figured this might be ok.”
Dean was frowning again, and you couldn’t help but notice the alarm on his face when he saw your tears.
“Hey now, when did I say that?”
You bit your lip to keep it from trembling, flitting your eyes upward so that you didn’t have to look Dean in the eye.
“U-um, maybe a couple months ago? When I tried to,” you choked on the lump in your throat, but forced yourself to keep going, “When I tried to get in your bed one night, you tol-told me to go back to my own bed, because I was too–I was too old to sleep in your bed.”
Dean’s brows scrunched together, and a sigh escaped his lips as he tried again to catch your eye.
“I don’t remember that.”
A sound that sounded half laugh, half sob escaped your throat, and you ducked your head in shame.
“I do.”
You felt Dean’s strong arms wrap around your shoulders, and before you knew it his hand was at the back of your head, pushing your face against the soft fabric of his shirt as his other hand rubbed your back.
“I don’t remember…baby, I didn’t mean it. You can come to me whenever you need to, ok?”
You sniffled, wincing when you saw you were getting tears all over his shirt.
“I don’t need to…I shouldn’t…Dean you’re right, I’m too old to-”
“No,” Dean’s voice was firm, and he pulled away from you just enough to try to look into your eyes. But you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Look at me.”
Slowly, reluctantly, you let your eyes stray to his, and you saw resolve hardening his gaze. But there was a softness there too, a tenderness that only you, his baby sister, got to see.
“You’re never gonna be too old to need me, ok? I’m always gonna be here for you, I promise.” Dean sighed, and when his gaze wandered below your eyes you knew he was seeing the dark circles planted there. “You’ve been having nightmares, right? That’s why you wanted to sleep in my bed?”
You nodded, your head again ducking in shame. Dean’s strong fingers gripped your chin, lifting your head up so you were forced to meet his gaze.
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not gonna let you go through those alone, ok? Next time you have one, I want you to come straight to me, understand?”
There was something comforting about Dean’s commanding tone. If he had been only reassuring, you would’ve perhaps felt that he was just trying to be nice. But his “soldier tone”, his ordering you to come to him, made you feel less like you were bothering him, and more like you were following an order, something that you knew made him happy.
You snapped a sarcastic salute, and even though he tried to hide it, you saw the corners of his lips turn up slightly at your action before he maintained a more serious expression.
“Alright, alright, you little smart-alek,” He pulled you into his arms again and stood, holding you off the ground and making you giggle, before he dropped you to the floor and clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Go get your stuff, ok? We’ve got about a thirteen-hour drive ahead of us before we reach where we’re going.”
Just as you turned to grab your bag, Dean gripped your shoulder a little tighter and leaned down to look at you.
“Hey, when we get there tonight, I want you to come to me if you can’t sleep, ok? Promise me.”
You smiled widely at your big brother, and lunged forward to wrap him in a hug.
“Promise.”
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