Siren
Siren
Summary : Bucky is obsessed with you. He is insanely, hopelessly, unhealthily obsessed with you.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : Grumpy x Sunshine, Wife!reader, sweet!reader, sex references. Love taken to an extreme. A lot of cursing, Congressman!Bucky, threats, obsessive love bordering on stalking, possessive love. Overprotective!Bucky, Jealous! Bucky, dark!Bucky, dark!you, Overprotective!you. You are Sam and Sarah’s childhood best friend, canon-typical violence. I feel like I have to disclose that Bucky does not hurt you at any point in this story. Let me know if I miss anything!
Word count : 8.9k
Note : This is probably my most cursing-heavy story. This is fictional story, so please do not get into an unhealthily obsessive relationship irl. I will also be posting a new part of Super Soldier Support Group tomorrow! Enjoy!
It started with a casual gathering at the Wilson Family home. Nothing fancy, just good food, loud music, and a backyard full of people laughing.
It was warm, the kind of sticky Louisiana heat that made the air feel weirdly refreshing— the perfect day for Sam to throw one of his famous family cookouts.
Bucky hadn’t wanted to go, not that day anyway. He had not been sleeping well that week, and that made him grumpy. Well, grumpier than usual.
He wasn’t sure if he could handle the crowd, or the small talk.
But Sam had insisted, and somehow a sleep-deprived Bucky found himself standing in the corner of the docks, watching from a distance while the party went on without him.
Then he saw you.
And suddenly, everything stopped.
You were laughing, standing next to Sarah and helping with the food. You had this bright energy about you, like sunshine breaking through a dark cloud.
From the very first moment he saw you, something inside Bucky snapped. It wasn’t attraction—it was possession. His brain, his soul, whatever dark, broken part of him that was still capable of love— latched onto you like a parasite. You were too beautiful. Too sweet. Too—fuck, what was he thinking?
“C’mon man,” Sam’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Don’t just stand there looking like you’re planning a murder. I want you to meet someone.”
Bucky frowned but let Sam drag him forward anyway. His stomach twisted when he realised Sam was leading him straight to you.
“This is my childhood best friend,” Sam introduced you, “Be nice to her, Buck.”
You turned from your conversation to face him, and…Jesus Christ.
This was even worse up close. You had such a pretty smile, and the most wonderful eyes. You didn’t even have to try to brighten up the room.
“Hi,” you greeted, offering your hand.
Bucky hesitated. He didn’t like touching strangers—hell, he barely liked touching people he knew—but then you looked at him again, and—fuck.
Before he could talk himself out of it, his flesh fingers wrapped around yours.
You didn’t flinch, didn’t react the way people so often did when they realised who he was.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky,” you said softly. “Sam’s told me a lot about you.”
Bucky’s heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. All he could manage was a stiff nod.
Sam, standing beside you, cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes at Bucky. “Be civil, okay?” He was already overthinking this, assuming this could go sideways fast. Sam wanted you two to get along more than anything in the world— he would at least want his childhood best friend and his work best friend to be able to stand in a room together without ripping each other’s head off— but he wasn’t counting on it.
Confused, you scrunched your nose. “Why wouldn’t we?”
Bucky wanted to know the same thing.
“Because,” Sam said, exasperated, “you’re polar opposites. You’re too damn nice for your own good, and Barnes here is all doom and gloom. He hates people. You love people.”
You turned your eyes back to Bucky, considering the former winter soldier before smiling, and subsequently melting Bucky’s heart.
“I don’t know, Sam,” you said. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”
—
Bucky kept his distance throughout the day.
Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.
You were too much. Too sweet, it felt like he was getting a sugar rush just looking at you.
It was overwhelming.
And it wasn’t just that he liked you. It was worse than that.
In the short time he had known you, he had already begun craving you.
But you made it worse.
You sought him out, found excuses to talk to him, tried to make him laugh.
And god help him, but he liked it.
He liked the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled at him. He liked the way you said his name. He liked the way your hand traced his metal arm when you spoke to him.
“Bucky,” you called at one point, while Sam worked the grill, “Try this.”
He glanced down at the spoon you were holding out to him, brows furrowed. “What is it?”
You chuckled like you already knew you had him wrapped around your finger. “Just try it.”
He sighed, and then you pressed a hand to his chest, steadying yourself as you lifted the spoon to his lips.
He froze, and before he could even process what was happening, he was opening his mouth, letting you feed him.
You watched him, waiting for his reaction. “Well?”
Bucky blinked, chewing slowly. It was… good. Really good.
But admitting that felt like surrender, so he just shrugged. “It’s fine.”
You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Liar.”
Then, you laughed.
He didn’t just want to hear it again—he needed to. It was like a drug, a high he had to chase.
Fuck.
That was it.
That was the moment he was done for.
Because you had no idea what you’d just done. No idea that you had ruined him.
No idea that he had just decided— you were his.
—
Later, after the sun had set and most of the guests had left, Bucky sat at the edge of the porch, elbows on his knees, watching you.
Or, more accurately, he was staring at you.
You were a few feet away, laughing as AJ and Cass ran circles around you, their small hands grabbing at your arms as you playfully tried to catch them.
Bucky couldn’t look away.
He knew you were going to be his downfall, and yet he didn’t even want to fight it.
“What’s up with you, Buck?” Sam asked, sitting beside him.
Bucky didn’t move, he didn’t even respond. He barely even registered that Sam was there at all.
Sam followed his line of sight, and then groaned. “Oh, hell no.”
Still, Bucky said nothing.
Sam snapped his fingers in front of Bucky’s face. “Yo. Terminator.”
Bucky blinked. He only just realised Sam was there. “What?”
“What?” Sam repeated, voice rising. “Don’t what me! What the fuck was that?”
Bucky frowned. “What was what?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Sam chuckled, teasing. “You’ve been staring at her like you’re about to drag her off to a cabin in the middle of nowhere and keep her there forever.”
Bucky’s muscles tensed. The idea did sound appealing.
“She’s nice,” Bucky said flatly.
Sam let out an amused laugh. “Nice? Nice? Barnes, you look like you want to fucking eat my childhood best friend—what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Sam was joking, but he wasn’t wrong.
Bucky did want to devour you. He wanted to claim you, protect you, make sure no one else ever got the chance to touch you the way he wanted to.
It was bad.
Because for the first time in decades, Bucky wanted.
Mine, he thought. Mine, mine, mine.
And god help anyone who tried to get in his way.
—
At first, Sam was just relieved that you and Bucky got along.
And before he knew it, the four of you—you, Bucky, Sam, and Joaquin—started hanging out regularly. When she was available, Sarah was there too, usually when the get-togethers happened at her place. It wasn’t anything official, just casual. You’d grab coffee, go on late-night walks along the docks. Sometimes, the five of you spent lazy afternoons at Sarah’s while Cass and AJ tried to rope you into whatever game they were playing.
On the surface, it was just friends spending time together.
But Bucky was always a little bit too possessive.
No one really noticed.
Like when Joaquin would make a joke and you’d laugh a little too hard, Bucky would step in, resting his arm on the back of your chair. When you and Sarah got into a playful argument, and Bucky would subtly shift between you, his body positioned like a barrier.
Or when someone at a bar got a little too interested in you, and Bucky would just stare at them until they backed the fuck off.
You didn’t seem to notice.
You just smiled at Bucky. You reached for his hand when you were deep in thought, leaned into him when you laughed, gave him hugs without him even having to ask.
And he let you.
Because if he couldn’t have you the way he wanted, then he’d settle for this—for now.
—
One day, you heard a knock on your door late at night.
When you opened it, you found Sam, Joaquin, and Bucky standing there—bruised, bloodied, and looking entirely too pleased with themselves for three men who had clearly just come back from a rough mission.
You sighed. “Come in, boys.”
They filed in, Sam grinning as he collapsed onto your couch. Joaquin gave you a sheepish ‘sorry’ look before following. Bucky just hovered near the door.
“Sit,” you told him, already grabbing your first aid kit.
He hesitated, then dropped onto the chair closest to you. you knelt beside him.
His knuckles were raw, a few cuts marred his face, and there was a forming bruise on his forehead. You worked on him, dabbing antiseptic onto his wounds.
“Hold still,” you whispered when he shifted under your touch. When you finished, without thinking, you pressed a fleeting kiss to the bruise on his forehead. “For good measure,” you said sheepishly.
Bucky’s breath hitched.
But before he could say anything, you moved on to Sam and Joaquin, fussing over them with the same level of care.
He felt his stomach twist in dread.
Bucky knew this was irrational. He knew you were just being a good friend.
And yet, as he sat there, watching your hands tend to them—watching you murmur reassurances, watching Joaquin grin at you and Sam chuckle under his breath— with bated breath.
He shouldn’t be jealous. He shouldn’t. You were also Sam’s friend. You were also Joaquin’s friend.
After all, you had taken care of him first. That had to mean something… right?
—
The bar was alive with noise, filled with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional thud of a pool ball being sunk into a pocket. It was one of those rare nights when there were no missions to worry about, no need to be on high alert. Even Sarah managed to get a babysitter for the kids.
Sarah and Sam stood near the pool table, casually sipping on their non-alcoholic beers. Bucky nursed his whiskey— not that it would do anything to his enhanced metabolism. You had your mocktail, sweet and bright, just like you.
And then there was Joaquin.
He had spent the last hour or so flirting with the bartender, grinning as she giggled and slid him free drink after free drink. He, of course, took every single one without hesitation.
Now, he was absolutely sloshed.
“Joaquin,” Sam teased, arms crossed as he watched your drunk friend lean against the pool table. “You are so lucky you’re pretty.”
Joaquin shot him finger guns. “Gracias, hermano.”
“No,” Sarah scowled, shaking her head, pointing to the blonde behind the bar. “He’s lucky she thinks he’s pretty.”
“Let’s be honest, everyone thinks I’m pretty,” Joaquin declared, before missing his shot so badly that the cue ball bounced off the table.
Bucky rolled his eyes and let out a small laugh.
You were next, so you stepped up to take your shot. “If anyone fucks up my shot, I am going to scream.”
And then, like a fucking menace, Joaquin swatted your pool cue mid-shot.
You gasped. “You little shit!”
Joaquin cackled.
“That’s it,” you huffed, shaking your head as you set the cue aside. “I’m getting you some water to sober up before you do something actually stupid.”
Sarah took her turn next, and Bucky… felt happy. He was among friends, leaning against the table, watching the game.
Life was good, right?
That bliss lasted all of three minutes before he realised… you were taking too long.
It didn’t take that long to get a glass of water.
He glanced up, scanning the bar for you.
His stomach dropped.
You were leaning against the bar, smiling up at some guy. Some asshole who looked way too interested, who was saying something that made you laugh.
Bucky’s chest burned.
Mine, he thought.
But no. No, no, no. He had no right to feel like this. You weren’t his. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He was just a friend.
Then why the fuck did he want to break that guy’s fucking ankles for being too goddamn close to you?
Bucky knew you were beautiful. But that fucker didn’t get to look at you like that. He didn’t get to act all high and mighty, like he even had a chance—
Bucky’s grip on his pool cue tightened.
CRACK.
The cue snapped clean in half.
Sarah’s head snapped toward him. “Man— what happened?”
Sam raised a brow. “You good?”
Bucky’s jaw clenched. His breathing was all messed up.
“I gotta go,” he said hastily.
Sarah blinked. “You just crushed wood like it was a damn breadstick.”
Bucky didn’t answer. He turned on his heel and left.
—
When he got back to his hotel in the heart of New Orleans, he sat on the edge of his bed, fingers twitching.
Then, he texted you.
Got an emergency. Had to go early.
A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.
Oh okay!!! Hope everything’s alright <3!
You were so fucking sweet. So fucking clueless.
You had no idea that the emergency… was you.
And that if he hadn’t left, he would have smashed that guy’s face in.
—
That night, Bucky couldn’t sleep.
It was driving him insane.
The second he closed his eyes, all he could see was you, laughing at the bar, that asshole touching you, and your body leaned just a little too close—fuck.
The obsession burned in his chest. He needed to know. Needed to be sure.
So, like a fucking lunatic, he found himself outside your Louisiana apartment at four in the morning, perched on your fire escape like a creep.
The window was dark, and there didn’t seem to be any movement inside. Maybe you weren’t even home. Maybe you were— No. No, stop. Fuck.
His metal fingers gripped against the railing. If you had taken that guy home—if that motherfucker was in there, in your bed— he didn’t know what he’d do.
"Whatcha doin’?"
Bucky jumped, damn near slipped right off the fire escape. His heart nearly stopped.
He whirled around, ready to fight, only to see you, standing behind him.
The fuck—?
"Jesus Christ," he rasped, staring at you like you’d just teleported out of thin air. "Why are you on the fire escape?"
You raised an eyebrow. "Why are you on the fire escape?"
Bucky scowled. “I asked you first.”
You shrugged, completely unfazed, and just climbed through the window. "I forgot my keys."
Bucky blinked.
You turned to look at him expectantly. “Well? Are you coming in or what?”
…What the fuck was wrong with you? Why weren’t you scared?
Still, he followed you inside.
—
You made him tea.
He sat on your couch, cradling the mug in his hands while you curled up beside him, watching him with curiosity.
“So,” you started casually, “what was the emergency?”
Bucky cleared his throat. “Nothing much,” he lied. “I fixed it.”
You raised an eyebrow. “And why were you lurking outside my apartment like some weirdo?”
“I wasn’t lurking.”
You hummed, unconvinced, and sipped your tea.
Bucky let out a deep breath, rubbing a hand down his face. “I was just… checking on you.”
Your lips curved up. “Why?”
He hesitated. He couldn’t tell you the truth. Couldn’t tell you that he’d nearly lost his fucking mind at the thought of you with someone else.
But then, as if he could read your mind, you said, “If you were worried about the guy at the bar, don’t be. He’s just an old friend from high school.” You tilted your head reassuringly. “And he’s gay.”
Bucky blinked.
Oh.
Oh, he was a fucking idiot.
Embarrassment flooded his chest in waves, but it did nothing to ease the gnawing possessiveness coiling around his ribs. It didn’t matter that the guy wasn’t a threat. It didn’t change the fact that Bucky had wanted to break him in half for so much as looking at you.
You set your mug down, shifting closer. “Bucky,” you murmured, “what’s wrong?”
He clenched his teeth. “I have to say something.”
You tilted your head, adorably waiting.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” The words felt dragged out from his throat like he’d been choking on them.
You took a deep breath. “Oh?”
Bucky let out a huff of air, fingers twitching at his sides. “I think—I know—I love you.”
There it was. The confession he could never take back.
Your eyes relaxed as you put your mug down.
That’s it. This was your rejection. Bucky was sure.
But then, without hesitation, you cradled his cheeks gently and pulled him down in a bruising kiss.
Bucky groaned into your mouth, hands fisting in your skirt, pulling you closer.
And when you whispered, “I love you, too,” against his lips—
He was fucking gone.
Love wasn’t supposed to be this… all-consuming. It wasn’t supposed to feel like madness. But that was what his love was.
He was everywhere—his greedy hands, both metal and flesh. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, and Bucky growled, lifting you into his lap like you weighed nothing.
You gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding against him in a way that sent his brain into overload.
And when you rocked your hips against his again. when you gasped at him, teasing, taunting—
Bucky snapped.
Suddenly, you were beneath him, pinned to the couch, his body trapping you.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasped.
You bit your lip, eyes dark. “Then show me.”
And fuck, did he.
—
The next morning, Bucky jolted awake to the ring of your doorbell.
For a second, he was disoriented, his brain sluggish, mind still drunk on you.
You were sprawled half on top of him, face buried against his chest. His metal arm was wrapped around you, fingers splayed across your bare back.
The bell rang impatiently again. And then— knock knock knock.
"Yo, wake up!" Sarah shouted.
His eyes flicked to the clock— 9:42 AM.
Carefully, he untangled himself from you, doing his best not to wake you as he slid out of bed. He barely managed to pull his sweats on before another knock rattled the door.
He opened it.
“Huh,” Sarah grinned.
Bucky’s scowl deepened. “What?”
“Don’t what me.” Sarah gestured, pointing an accusatory finger at Bucky’s chest. “What the fuck is this?”
Bucky’s teeth clenched. “None of your business.”
“Oh, I think it is.” Sarah crossed him her arms and almost cackled.
Bucky just let out a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was still way too tired for this.
Sarah smirked, waggling her eyebrows. “So? How was it? You’re, like, a hundred years old— did your back hold up?”
“Go,” Bucky gritted.
“Relax,” Sarah shook her head, shoving your wallet into his chest. "Your girl left this in my car."
Bucky blinked, but his mind was still buffering on the part when she called you his girl. "Sarah—“
She held up her hand. "Hey, I’m happy for you. Really. But I’ve known her since we were both in diapers, so uh—" she leaned in. "If you hurt her, just know I will kill you."
Bucky huffed. As if. “Yeah, yeah."
"Good talk." She said as she turned to leave.
From the bed, you stirred, mumbling sleepily, “Was that Sarah?”
Bucky climbed back in beside you. “Don’t worry about it.”
You hummed, curling back into his chest. “Mmkay.”
Bucky wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
Mine, he thought.
And this time, you knew it too.
—
It had been two years since that night when everything changed.
You had since moved to Brooklyn with Bucky, and had since built a home together.
Two years of waking up with you in his bed.
Two years of you stealing his shirts, dancing around the kitchen in nothing but one of his Henleys and a pair of socks.
Two years of Bucky being so obsessed with you it was a goddamn miracle he let you leave out of his sight at all.
His hand was always on you—on your lower back, your thigh, wrapped around your wrist when you got too distracted in public. His eyes always tracked you whenever you so much as moved.
Bucky knew it probably wasn’t healthy to be this obsessed— but who the fuck cares?
Besides, no one had noticed. Not really.
Sam rolled his eyes when Bucky hovered too close in public. Joaquin just assumed Bucky was overprotective. Sarah thought it was sweet.
None of them knew just how deep it went.
How Bucky watched you when you slept, how he memorised the way your breath hitched when you dreamed. How he could track scent in a crowd, how he could tell the different sounds of your shoes.
How, sometimes, he just stared at you with this feral, carnal need to keep you his forever.
So one night, he did something about it.
It wasn’t a grand proposal. There were no speeches, no flowers, no kneeling at all.
Bucky just slipped a diamond ring onto your finger as you sat curled up beside him on the couch.
"Let’s get married," he said.
It was not a question. It was a statement.
You looked down at your hand and blinked, joy seeping into your chest. You looked back up at him, tilting your head.
“Okay,” you smiled.
Of course you were gonna marry him. Of course.
It was the most obvious thing in the world.
And Buck felt something primal and dark settle inside him.
“Good girl,” he said, grabbing your chin and tilling them up to kiss you.
—
The ceremony was small — just a few close friends and family.
Sam stood at the front, grinning like an idiot, though he was definitely in tears. He tried to deny it, but everyone knew when Sarah dramatically announced she was out of tissues and had to make a store run.
You wore a simple white dress, the sunlight making the lace look holy.
Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off you. He wasn’t sure how he could even breathe. You were so goddamn beautiful, and all he could think was mine.
Mine, mine, mine.
He held your hands tightly, every vow he spoke was drenched in devotion.
When Sam pronounced you husband and wife, Bucky crashed his lips against yours, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you so desperately it was like he thought you'd disappear. Joaquin cheered, Sarah covered AJ and Cass’ eyes, and Sam muttered something about needing another box of tissues.
But Bucky didn’t care. You were his wife.
His.
Later, at the small reception, he barely let you out of his sight. His hand stayed glued to your waist, his lips brushed against your temple every other minute. He religiously watched the way you smiled, the way you laughed, admired the sparkle of your wedding ring — a ring he’d spent months obsessing over.
“Mine,” he whispered against your skin more times than you could count.
—
A year after the wedding, Bucky somehow found himself on the campaign trail. Sam had roped him into it, convinced the world needed someone like him in Capitol Hill— someone with a backbone, a heart, and a no-bullshit attitude. And because Bucky couldn’t say no to his best friend (or to you, when you’d smiled and told him he’d be perfect for it), he ran.
And won.
He was now Congressman James Buchanan Barnes.
But no matter how powerful or important he became, you were still his priority. You were the first person he called after every meeting, the one who made the stuffy suits and long hours bearable.
And fuck, did he spoil you rotten. He got a four-bedroom Brownstone when you both moved to DC. For the kids to grow up in, he had told you, when you were ready, of course. The house was under your name.
He bought you designer dresses, diamond earrings, the kind of perfume that smelled like liquid gold. Anything you so much as look at, Bucky was ordering it before you even thought to ask.
“You don’t have to do all this,” you’d say, laughing as another velvet box showed up at your doorstep.
“I want to,” Bucky would grumble, nuzzling into your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “I’m your husband. I want to make sure you have everything you want.”
And he meant it.
Then one day, you asked for something that actually made him think.
“I want a pretty knife.”
Bucky blinked. “What?”
“For self-defense,” you explained casually. “You know. Just in case.”
Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. “You?” He asked, still trying to make sense of it. “But Sweetheart, you’re—” He paused, searching for the right word. “You’re so… sweet.”
You smiled at him…. And that fucking smile.
Bucky swore you could’ve asked him for the moon and he would’ve tried to lasso it down for you. But a knife? He wasn’t sure whether you could even use it.
Still, you wanted it. So you got it.
Bucky made a few calls, and soon you had a beautifully crafted knife with a marble handle. He even made you practice holding it, standing behind you with his arms wrapped around yours, guiding your hand in slow movements.
You caught on so quickly. He was so proud.
But despite all the lessons, Bucky wasn’t entirely convinced you’d ever actually use it.
“Baby, if anyone even looks at you the wrong way, I’d handle it,” he insisted one night, watching you twirl the knife in your fingers like a toy. “No one’s gonna touch you.”
You giggled, leaning up to kiss him. “Just in case, okay?”
Bucky nodded, nipping at your collarbone, “Okay.”
—
Sometimes, the world forgot Bucky Barnes had always been a dangerous man.
Sure, to the public, he was a polished congressman— the war hero turned politician, a man who fought for justice and all that. At the state galas, he smiled for the cameras, shook hands with donors, and played the role of the perfect politician. And with your radiant and sweet charm on his arm, everyone ate it up. You were the darling wife of Congressman Barnes, the woman who could make the room hold their breath.
But they didn’t realise how violently obsessed Bucky was with you.
He watched every interaction you had at those events. He eventually had a little notepad where he hastily scribbled the name of every man who looked at you too long, an arrogant politician who thought they could pry you away from him. They thought you were too innocent to be with the former winter soldier— They thought they could whisper something suggestive in your ear or brush their hand along your back without consequence.
But Bucky always noticed.
He’d smile, even laugh sometimes, as if the petty attempts didn’t bother him. But they did. They fucking consumed him. His teeth would grind against each other, his grip on your waist would tighten, and his eyes would darken into a stormy blue— all while the poor bastard standing in front of him had no idea just how badly he’d fucked up.
Bucky had a routine. After the gala, he’d walk you out and hand you to his driver.
He would lean down, whispering softly into your ear.
“Head to the car, baby. I’ve got something to take care of.”
You never questioned it. You’d smile, kiss his cheek, and do as he asked.
And once you were gone, Bucky would… pay them a visit.
The man who let his hand wander a little too low on your back? The one who called you “darling” like he had any fucking right?
Bucky found him in a secluded corner of the marbled building of Washington DC, his steel-blue eyes cold and calculating.
“You think you can touch what’s mine?” Bucky growled.
He had always been clever. He had always chosen a corner with no cameras. No witnesses. Then, he’d whisper a threat, one that left grown men trembling.
But sometimes threats weren’t enough.
One time, he got fed up with a senator’s son who had too much to drink. He’d cornered you by the bar, his hand grabbing your arm and waist, lips curling into a wicked smirk.
You’d laughed politely, excused yourself, and found your way back to Bucky. But the damage had been done
Later that night, Bucky found him.
It wasn’t pretty.
The next morning, the senator’s son was seen with a cast on his wrist, stammering about a “bad fall.”
No one questioned it,
After all, accidents happen.
That sick, satisfied feeling always found its way to his chest. Though the real satisfaction always came when he hopped in the car.
He’d find you taking off your heels, waiting for him in the back seat. You’d smile at him, oblivious to the violence he’d just left in his wake. And when you asked, “Did everything go okay?” Bucky would just smile, lean down, and kiss you.
Because Bucky Barnes was a kind person, a great friend, a wonderful husband, and an honest man. But after decades of isolation, torture, and conditioning, he would never truly be a good man again. But for you, he would pretend to be.
—
Still, like any other job, Bucky had bad weeks. And this week had been hell.
Bucky had come home late every night.
Between his work in Congress and the bills he was trying to push through, the DC police department had asked for his help in identifying some vigilante called Siren.
Now, he barely had time to breathe.
You hated seeing him like this. He was always so strong, so put-together, but lately, stress had carved itself into his shoulders, a permanent tightness in his back muscles.
It didn’t help that Senator Mitchell was being a prick, as usual. The man thrived on opposing Bucky’s every move, shooting down every proposal like it was his life’s mission to make your husband miserable.
And then there was Congressman Davis. From what you’ve heard, he was an arrogant, insufferable bastard who had spent the last few weeks blocking one of Bucky’s most important bills.
So when Bucky had muttered “God, I fucking hate that guy” over breakfast one morning, you’d simply nodded.
The next day, Congressman Davis didn’t show up to work.
Broke both legs in a freak accident, according to the news.
Bucky had stared at the article. “That’s… weird.”
“You think?” you tilted your head.
Bucky dragged a hand down his face. “Honestly, I don’t have time to care. Mitchell is still a pain in my ass, and now the DC police want me to help them identify some masked vigilante tearing through the city.”
That made your stomach flip, but you kept your eyes neutral as he tossed a thick file onto the table.
“Siren?” you asked, watching him flip through the grainy surveillance images. The black-clad figure was barely visible. The only clear detail was the glint of a knife in her hand.
Bucky snorted. “What kind of name is Siren, anyway?”
You shrugged. “I think it’s kinda sexy.”
Bucky shot you an amused look.
You shrugged, leaning on the counter. “What do they want from you?”
“They want me to analyse the footage, see if I recognise any combat techniques,” Bucky sighed, rubbing his temples. “As if I can ID someone from a couple of blurry images.”
You hummed in response, flipping through the file again.
“Maybe she doesn’t wanna be found.” you offered.
“No shit.” Bucky frowned.
—
That night, Bucky sat at his desk, eyes narrowed at the open file in front of him. His fingers tapped against the wood as he studied the images again. Something about her was… familiar.
You watched from the doorway, wrapped in a silk robe.
He needs a distraction, you thought.
You walked across the room, slipping behind him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pressed fluttering kisses to his neck.
Bucky sighed, leaning into your touch. “Baby…”
“You’re stressed,” you whispered, biting the lobe of his ear.
“I just— I can’t get a read on her,” he admitted, rolling his shoulders. “On top of that, I have to deal with Mitchell tomorrow.”
You glanced at the photo he was studying—Siren, breaking the arm of an arms dealer. Poetic justice.
You said nothing, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
Your fingers trailed lower, sliding down his chest, nails lightly scraping against his skin through his shirt. “I think you need a break.”
Bucky swallowed hard. “Baby, I—”
When you stepped back, his words died in his throat.
Because you had untied your robe.
And underneath, a lingerie set that he’d picked out for you weeks ago, the one that had him practically drooling when you tried it on.
The chair scraped back so fast it nearly toppled over.
Then, Bucky was lifting you onto the desk, his hands gripping your thighs, sliding up your sides, mapping out every inch of exposed skin as if he hadn’t memorised everything already.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned, lips ghosting over your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re tryin’ to kill me, sweet girl.”
You giggled, threading your fingers through his hair. “I just thought my dear husband needed a break.” You batted your eyes innocently.
Bucky’s lips met yours in a bruising kiss. His hands kneaded your hips, pulling you flush against him, letting you feel exactly how much he wanted you.
“S’not fair,” he muttered against your lips, his lovely Brooklyn drawl slipping out. “I was workin’.”
“Oh?” You smiled innocently, nails raking down his back. “You wanna go back to your case?”
Bucky growled, lifting you effortlessly as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Fuck no.”
And with that, he carried you to your bedroom.
Siren was forgotten, for now.
—
That night, after you stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body, you casually said, “I think I’ll go for a walk.”
Bucky frowned immediately, towel-drying his damp hair as he leaned against the doorframe. “Alone?”
You’d done this before, but never this late.
You rolled your eyes. “I can handle myself, honey.”
He crossed his arms, “That’s not the point.”
You sighed, stepping forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he let you go—reluctantly. At least you had your knife with you.
—
By the time you got back, you were sweaty, chest rising and falling like you’d just finished a workout.
Bucky, who was sitting on the couch, immediately stood up and walked over to you. He looked at you, studying in the slight flush in your cheeks, the damp strands of hair sticking to your forehead.
He tilted his head. “You said you were going for a walk.”
You wiped at your brow. “Yeah, well… guess I went for a jog instead.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you jog?”
You shrugged. “Felt like I had some energy to burn.”
His eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, trying to assess the situation, but then you stood on your toes and kissed him.
Suddenly, he wasn’t questioning anything anymore.
—
The next day in Capitol Hill, Senator Mitchell had a black eye.
A nasty one, too. It was swollen and bruised, red against his pale skin.
Mitchell barely spoke all session, and when Bucky had the floor, the senator didn’t interrupt.
He didn’t sneer. Didn’t open his mouth to object.
He just sat there, shifting uncomfortably, trying his hardest not to look at Bucky.
Weird.
—
Before heading home, Bucky had one last piece of business to handle.
An overconfident diplomat from last week’s charity gala had overstayed his welcome in the city, unlucky for him.
He had touched your arm without permission, his fingers lingering just a little too long on your skin. Bucky had been across the room that night, but even distance couldn’t dull his rage.
By the end of the night, the bastard had vanished into the crowd.
That had been frustrating. But patience was something Bucky had in abundance when it came to protecting what was his.
So when he overheard a passing remark today that the diplomat was still in town, he found out where he was staying and simply went to the hotel lobby.
Bucky sat comfortably in a leather armchair, looking like just another guest winding down from a long day. He even smiled when his target stepped through the elevator doors.
Bucky stood and intercepted the man, placing himself just close enough that escape wouldn’t be an option. “Nice to see you again,” Bucky greeted, his voice almost pleasant. The diplomat barely had time to register the danger before Bucky leaned in, that same eerie smile still in place.
“If you so much as look at my wife again, I’ll break your fucking nose so badly, they’ll have to rebuild it from the inside out. And even then, it’ll never sit fucking right ever again.” Bucky said, though his tone was conversational. To anyone else, it would look as if he was commenting on the weather. “And that’ll be the least of your problems.”
The man swallowed hard, his overconfidence crumbling.
Satisfied, Bucky patted his shoulder once, before walking away. On the drive home, he pulled a pen from the glove compartment and calmly crossed the man's name off his list.
When he finally stepped through the door, he smiled to see you finishing up dinner. Bucky told you he could just hire a personal chef, but you insisted that you wanted to make his meals, to be his perfect housewife.
Without a word, he tugged you into his lap, burying his face against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, “You know you’re mine, right, baby?” he said, his hands tightening around you. “Only mine.”
—
The next morning, you found him in the kitchen, reading over yet another Siren case file.
You pouted, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his back. “Buckyyy.”
He chuckled, placing his hand over yours. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I lost my knife,” you mumbled.
Bucky paused. “Lost it?”
No. No, you wouldn’t be so careless.
Did someone take it from you? Did someone touch you?
The mere thought sent Bucky into a violent spiral, his fingers itched for blood.
Because if someone had taken it from you—if someone had dared to lay their filthy hands on what was his—they were going to wish they were never alive.
You nodded against his skin. “I think I dropped it during my morning run.”
He turned, relieved that you were just a bit careless. He lifted your chin with two fingers, thumb brushing your bottom lip as you gave him your best adorable pout.
“My sweet girl,” he said. “You gotta be more careful.”
You blinked up at him, a little upset. “I liked that knife.”
He chuckled before letting out a deep breath. He could never be mad at you. So he just exhaled, brushing his lips against your forehead. “I’ll get you another one, baby. Whatever you want.”
You beamed. “Really?”
“Of course.” His fingers tightened slightly on your chin. “But you tell me next time you go for an early run. Don’t like you out there alone.”
You grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You worry too much.”
—
Within a week, Bucky gave you a new knife— a replacement for the one you lost. But calling it just a knife would be an insult.
It was stunning.
The handle was custom-made, dark metal inlaid with delicate floral, perfectly molded to fit your grip. The blade was wickedly sharp, and yet, it wasn’t just a weapon. It was art.
You turned it over in your hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. “You spoil me," you said, testing the weight in your palm. It was perfect.
Bucky smiled, satisfied. "Darling, I haven’t even started."
And just when you thought he couldn’t get any worse, he handed you something else— a little holster, custom-made to hold your new knife. The leather was buttery soft, made to fit against your thigh or tuck neatly under your jacket.
“Specially made for you,” he said proudly, brushing his lips over your cheek, then your jaw. “Gotta keep my good girl safe.”
Your stomach flipped.
What you didn’t know was that, because Bucky was a completely unhinged, lovesick lunatic, he had slipped a tiny tracking device into your holster—one discreet enough that you’d never notice. But that wasn’t all. The device also had a built-in listening function, so it was silently transmitting your location and every sound around you straight to a hidden app on his phone.
Not because he didn’t trust you.
But because the thought of you out there, alone without his protection— drove him insane.
So he made sure that, no matter where you went, he’d always be able to find you.
So now, if anyone so much as breathed wrong in your direction, Bucky would hear it.
And he’d handle it.
—
The next morning, Bucky’s phone rang. It was an unlisted number from DC Police.
He sighed, already dreading whatever mess was waiting for him. But before he even thought about leaving, he had to take care of something far more important.
You.
Still hazy from sleep, you barely had time to blink before Bucky was on you, pressing you deeper into the mattress, his lips peppering gentle yet desperate kisses across every inch of exposed skin. Your cheek, your shoulders, the delicate curve of your throat.
"Just reminding you how much I love you before I go to work,” he nuzzled you.
You hummed, tilting your head to grant him better access. He took full advantage, dragging his mouth down your throat, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin there. His teeth grazed your pulse point, just enough to make your breath hitch.
“Be good, baby,” he whispered against your lips, still unwilling to leave.
You smiled, all sweet innocence. “I’m always a good girl.”
Bucky groaned, pressing one last kiss to your lips before reluctantly pulling away.
For now.
—
The moment Bucky stepped into the precinct, conversations halted. Officers froze, whispering behind their hands.
Bucky’s eyes flickered around the room, landing on the open file waiting for him on the table.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
Detective Ramirez, a no-nonsense woman who had been working in DC longer than most high schoolers have been alive, flipping through the folder. “We did a lot of digging last night… and Siren’s been operating a lot longer than we thought.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed as she laid out the evidence.
“We traced activity back a couple years. Louisiana. Then Brooklyn. And now, D.C.”
Huh. What a weird coincidence. Those are all the places you’ve lived in.
She shook her head. “She’s been at this for a long time.”
The grainy surveillance images showed the same shadowy figure— always disappearing before authorities could get close. But it was clear now. This wasn’t just some local vigilante.
“She started with street-level criminals—gangs, traffickers, arms dealers. But lately?” Ramirez slid a new set of photos across the table.
Congressman Davis. Senator Mitchell.
What?
“Both men had been attacked in the last three months. Different incidents. Different locations. But the same signature,” she explained, shaking her head. They’re terrified,” Ramirez continued. “Refused to talk, barely gave us any details because they’re convinced Siren will come back and… finish the job.”
Bucky stayed silent, his mind racing.
Something wasn’t adding up.
“And then there’s this in the crime scene. We believe it’s hers.” Ramirez reached into an evidence bag, carefully unwrapping something small wrapped in cloth. She placed it on the table and slid it toward him.
Bucky’s stomach dropped.
A knife.
Not just any knife.
Your knife.
The one he had given you.
The one you had lost.
He reached for it, turning it over in his gloved hand. It was unmistakable in its design.
Bucky clenched his teeth, forcing his expression to remain neutral.
Because if he let anything slip—if they saw even the slightest reaction—he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain this.
—
Bucky came home late that night, his mind clouded and fearful.
The evidence was stacked against you, but he refused to believe it. You couldn't be Siren. No—maybe she had stolen your knife. Maybe someone was trying to frame you. Maybe—
Then he saw the note.
"Went for a run. Be back soon <3"
Bullshit.
His gut twisted with the kind of instinctual, primal warning that had kept him alive for decades. Maybe he thought the handwriting was too neat, or maybe just knew when you were lying to him. He always did.
Metal knuckle curling into a ball, he pulled out his phone and tapped into the hidden tracking signal embedded in your holster.
You were nowhere near a park, or a public road for that matter. Instead, you were in a wealthy neighbourhood on the other side of town.
Then he turned on the listening device.
A second later, your voice crackled through the speaker. You sounded eerily calm. “A little birdie told me you were planning to block the new Veteran Act."
Bucky’s breath hitched. He had told you about that bill he had been spearheading. About how Jones—that corrupt prick—was going to block it before it even had a chance.
And now you must be standing in front of him, threatening him.
He heard the unmistakable whisper of a blade slicing through the air.
Jones hesitated. “You’re insane—”
"Approve it,” he heard you sneer, “Or I’ll come back and finish the job."
Bucky’s heart slammed against his ribs. He was torn between wanting to go to you—to drag you away from this, to keep you safe—and just listening.
In hindsight, he should have known.
The "walks." The "runs." The way you had picked up knifework too quickly when he had first put a blade in your hands. The first night he kissed you, he had found you on your fire escape—because you had been doing vigilante shit after the pool bar.
And then you spoke again, this time in a sweet sing-song tone, “If you don’t, I’ll put your head underwater until the bubbles stop."
Jones went silent.
Bucky knew you had taken mixed martial arts as a kid for self-defense, but he had never thought much of it— never imagined you still practiced, still used it.
And then, “O-okay, okay—I will.”
Fuck.
He had to admit it now. You were Siren.
Sweet, innocent you. The woman who pressed sleepy kisses against his collarbone in the morning. The woman who curled up in his lap at night, blinking up at him with wide, trusting eyes.
But that wasn’t all you were.
You were this, too. You were a predator hiding in plain sight.
And instead of being freaked out—instead of feeling betrayed or angry—Bucky was… turned on.
His breaths were uneven, chest rising and falling with arousal.
Because he knew this wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t corrupting you.
You were always like this.
Maybe, you were just waiting for someone who would be just as sick as you are.
And you found him.
—
The second you slipped through the back door, you felt his eyes on you.
You had been careful. So fucking careful.
You had changed in the garden shed. You wiped the sweat and dirt from your skin, slipping into an oversized hoodie, leggings, sneakers that were scuffed just enough to sell the illusion. By the time you stepped inside, you looked like nothing more than a tired, unsuspecting wife coming home from an innocent late-night run.
So you played your part.
You plastered a sleepy smile onto your face. “Hey, honey."
Bucky didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.
He just sat there, elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped together.
What’s going on?
"How’s Senator Jones?" He said calmly, too calmly.
Your stomach plummeted.
The room felt like it had shrunk, walls pressing in. Everything was suffocating.
You blinked at him, feigning confusion. “What?"
Bucky tilted his head, the ghost of an amused smile playing at his lips.
"I know you’re Siren."
Your breath stalled.
A million reasons went through your rolodex of excuses, each one weaker than the last. But when you looked at him, at the certainty in his eyes, you knew there was no use denying it.
He knew.
But two could play at that game.
So instead of panic, you kept yourself calm.
“Oh?” You arched a brow, voice smooth as silk. "And how’s that diplomat from that gala? Heard you took care of him."
For the first time since you came back, Bucky faltered.
“Y-You knew?” He stammered.
You saw the moment it hit him, the way his pupils blew wide.
"Of course I knew, baby,” you said sweetly, stepping closer. You could see the tension in his shoulders, "I know about your list, Bucky. I see your murderous rage every time."
Bucky’s muscles tightened. His breath became shallow, heart thrumming against his ribs.
You sighed, walking past him to a compartment under the island kitchen, pulling out a small, battered notebook. You flipped it open, then placed it in his hands.
Bucky’s fingers tightened around it as he scanned the pages.
What was this?
It was his list—mirrored.
The same names. The same faces. The same fucking targets. So you could keep track of who he was after.
But alongside them, you had your own notes. Your observations.
Log entries tracking him— where he had been sighted, what areas he had stalked, what time he usually came home. Notes on when he was distracted. When he was asleep. When you could slip out and do your little crime fighting routine. You had copies of all the numbers in his contacts— classified or otherwise.
You even had pictures of him from the goddamn Capitol Hill security cameras. From his usual coffee shops. From his favourite supermarket.
His hands started shaking, because between the scribbled words, between the ink and the scratched-out sentences, there’s something familiar.
Not just in the thoughts.
But in the way they’re written. They were scrawled in a rush, like they were obsessive.
And then, just beneath one of the messier lines, there’s a word—so small, so easy to miss. ‘Mine.’
Sweet, darling, unassuming you, had a dark side.
You were just like him.
A perfect reflection. A mirror image of his own madness.
His throat felt dry. "You—" He swallowed. "You kept track of me?"
You tilted your head innocently. "Oh, sweetheart."
But if you thought that was something—
Bucky moved, crossing the room and yanked open the bottom drawer of the TV stand. His movements were almost aggressive as he pulled out a thick, leather-bound book.
Not his little notebook.
This was different.
And then he handed it to you.
The second you flipped it open, your heart stopped.
It wasn’t names.
It wasn’t targets.
It was you.
Pages upon pages, filled with cramped, meticulous handwriting.
Your detailed wardrobe, all of your perfumes, observations of what you smelled like after a shower versus after a long day. An analysis of how your voice changed when you were lying. The exact shade your lips turned when you were cold. Your coffee orders in all the cafes you’ve ever been to, your favourite snacks. There was even a paragraph of the way you twirled your fork when you ate pasta. The names and addresses of all of your exes— where they lived, where they work, where they shop.
Your entire existence, laid bare.
A record. A worship. A fucking obsession.
Then, you both realised.
You were just two absolute fucking lunatics, hopelessly, unhealthily obsessed with each other.
The two of you had been circling each other like predators for years— watching, tracking, leaving breadcrumbs of obsession in each other’s worlds without even realising it.
You weren’t just people to each other.
You were religion.
You were scripture.
Two minds running parallel, equally deranged, equally consumed— until you inevitably collided.
You licked your lips slowly, the corner of your mouth curling as you looked up at him through your lashes. You knew what you were doing— of course you did.
With a voice as saccharine as it was wicked, you whispered, "I’m still your good girl."
Bucky fucking shattered.
A wrecked groan tore from his throat. His grip felt like iron chains as he gripped your waist, shoving you against the nearest surface— the kitchen counters. But you barely noticed, too focused on the way his hands clawed at you, like even after all these years, he still needed to mark you, ruin you.
His lips were on you in an instant, first on your lips, then trailing down your throat.
And then he dropped to his knees.
A fucking worshipper at your altar.
A zealot ready to die a martyr.
His hands gripped your thighs, firm enough to bruise, and he tilted his head up to look at you, pupils blown wide, his lips slightly parted.
He was completely undone. Completely yours.
A satisfied smile spread across your face as you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him whimper.
"But you’re also my good boy,” you teased, “aren’t you?"
His groan was ruinous.
His eyes were wild, desperate, and fucking feral.
"Yeah, baby," he nodded, voice wrecked, hands trailing up, gripping the curve of your hips. "Yours. All yours.”
And then—
He showed you.
Because Bucky Barnes will never be a good man again.
But for you?
He’d be anything.
-end.
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More Posts from Letthefuckeduptimesflow and Others
Oranges || Chris Bang
⇢ summary: there was one person you never though you would trust your life with: your brother’s best friend. however all of that changes when a certain confession is revealed.
⇢ requested: can you make a stray kids bang chan smut where the reader is 3 years younger than chan (so the reader is 18 years old, legal age) and the reader likes chan but believes he doesn’t like her back cause the age difference, so she starts to avoid him and he gets annoyed. he then confronts her and happy ending.
⇢ genre: angst; fluff; smut; one shot
⇢ word count: 2270
⇢ warnings: mentions of dugs and alcohol; swearing; fluff; light smut (brief car smut, pet names)
⇢ note: i’m super duper sorry this took forever. i hope you enjoy it though.
Ever since you were little, you hated your brother with a burning passion. You never has the confidence to yell at him for all the wrongs he made you go through, since he was the only family you had. You were afraid of leaving, because that mean being all alone in a world filled with torture and pain.
Since your elder brother was in charge of you, you had to listen to whatever he said. As well, you had to hang out with his friends practically everyday after school. You’re house was the safe haven for his crackhead friends, which you never really cared for. However, there was one who intrigued you since the very beginning. His name, Chris Bang, however everyone called him Chan.
Keep reading
That's My Girl
SYNOPSIS: Being Steve's ex was not easy, especially now that you are with "freak Eddie". Steve regrets how he treated you and wants you back.
GENRE: angst, fluff
"Max, I haven't been to a party since I broke up with Steve. What if I forget how to... I don't know, be human?" The redhead snorts and rolls her eyes at you. You sigh and look back in the mirror, holding two dresses up to yourself.
"Go with the black." she says in reference to the tight black dress you've held up.
"Yeah?"
"Wear it with your leather jacket." She suggests, nodding her head to the coat rack. You nodded and slipped on the dress.
"What if Steve is there?" You ask worryingly, making eye contact through the mirror.
"Just be normal, he'll be normal too." You bit your lip. Would he? He didn't take the breakup very well at first.
-
You stand near the hallway, bored out of your mind. You never realized how much you relied on Steve to be social. He's been sneaking glances at you all night. It turns into genuine staring, and just as you're about to leave from being so uncomfortable, a certain someone burst through the door. Eddie "the freak" Munson. You didn't think this was his scene, in fact you knew it wasn't.
He enters with his arms fully out, stepping in theatrically.
"Well well well, all of Hawkins finest all in one place! I must be so lucky to have been invited." He says making eye contact with one of the cheerleaders who had clearly invited him as a joke. A few people shout out insults that seem to bounce right off of him. He chuckles and starts to walk past, but catches a look at you and hangs behind.
"Y/n? Didn't think this was your scene." he says with a sly look. You had a few classes with Eddie last year, you got along quite well.
"Could say the same about you, Munson." You say, taking a sip from your red solo cup. You look over and catch Steve staring. He looks away quickly, but not quick enough to miss Eddie's gaze. You shut your eyes a sigh. He notices you displeased reaction and takes a gamble.
"You know, I never thought he was the right guy for you." He says, looking at the teen and his great hair.
"Yeah, well. I certainly am not the right girl for him." You take another drink. Your relationship with Steve was great when it started. You had great chemistry and cared about each other. But soon, he became distracted. He missed phone calls, bailed out of dates and seemed disinterested in you overall. All because he never got over Nancy. Once the initial attraction to you wore off all he was left with was his love for Nancy. You weren't stupid, so you realized and dumped him. He was clearly still in denial of it himself, insisting he didn't love her. But you knew it was true.
"If it's any consolation, you've always been my dream girl." He confesses with a chuckle. Your eyes widen and blush creeps its way to your face.
"No way, really?" You questions with an incredulous look. He nodded with a smile.
"Had a huge crush on you last year." He looks relieved but nervous about his sudden confession and he fakes a cough.
"Me too." You return his feeling. He steps closer to you.
"I was going to ask you out, but then you got together with the hair." You pursed your lips and frowned a bit, looking down to your feet.
"how about we get you a drink?" You offer.
"I'd rather share yours." He says, gently taking you cup from your hands and taking a sip. You smile wide.
That was the start of your relationship with Eddie. Soon enough you moved in together and were having the time of your lives together, falling deeper in love with one another each day. He made you feel like the only girl in the world.
-
"When I saw her at that party, I don't know something inside of me just fell into place. And I knew I had to get her back." Steve says with a sigh as Robin hoists herself atop the counter.
"So? Get her back then."
"She's with Eddie now." He whines rubbing his face.
"No shit, Eddie Munson?" He nods and slides down the counter. Robin raises her eyebrows and shakes her head.
"I don't know what to do. Something about her Robin, I just can't let her go. I can't believe how stupid I was." Robin turns to him, curious.
"Stupid?" He nods again.
"Stupid. She gave me everything and I mean, I was still in love with Nancy. And she totally knew it so she dumped me. Didn't realize what I had til' it was gone." Robin gives a sympathetic look to him.
The door rings as two people step in; you and Eddie. You give a smile to robin and a little wave, meanwhile Eddie gives a polite and tight lipped grin to Steve. Steve doesn't miss the way Eddie's grip on your waist tightens when he sees him.
Steve cannot keep his eyes off of you. The way you giggle when Eddie seemingly suggests a stupid movie, the way you hit his shoulder playfully when he teases you. That should be him. He misses you.
Eddie settles behind you with his chin leaning on your forehead, arms wrapped around you while you browse the horror collection. The jealousy hit's Steve's heart hard, and Eddie notices. Eddie looks over to see Steve staring and he doesn't hesitate to send a glare back. Normally Eddie would be very civil with his partner's ex, but after knowing how Steve treated you and made you feel he couldn't play nice, especially not when he looked at you the way he did.
Steve looks away and to Robin who was looking very uncomfortable with the tension, tension you were entirely unaware of. Steve gets frustrated from seeing you looking utterly in love with each other and leaves to the back.
-
You tried to convince Eddie to go to your friend's birthday party but to no avail. As much as he loved you he really didn't feel like listening to the name calling today. You understood, of course, and decided to just go without him. He helped you pick out your outfit (not without him feeling you up) and you drove off, looking forward to seeing the friends you hadn't seen since graduation. You knew Steve would be there but it didnt bother you very much. You were sure he wouldn't say much more than a greeting.
The staring begun again, and Steve couldn't stand to see you without him. So without warning, he pulls you to the side.
"Oh. Hey Steve."
"I can't stand it anymore."You cock your head to the side and raise an eyebrow questioningly.
"Please Y/n, just hear me out. I just need you to hear what I have to say." You rub your arm, feeling on the spot. You nod at him to continue.
"I know I fucked up, trust me I know. But I just don't want to be without you anymore. Just let me show you I love you." He pleads, looking straight into you.
"Steve, stop being ridiculous. I have a boyfriend." You scoff, turning to walk away before you are stopped by Steve blocking your path.
"I know. And I don't-" He sighs and pinches his nosebridge.
"I don't care. Just one night, that's all I ask. Just one night to let me show you how much I love you. I need you in my arms again." His voice breaks to a whisper. You couldn't believe the disrespect Steve just showed your relationship. To think he could ask you to cheat on Eddie and just switch back to him was frankly insulting. So your face morphs to a genuine frown and your eyebrows furrow before your hand swiftly slaps the the side of Steve's face, harder than you meant to.
"Fuck you Steve." You spit, turning around to exit the now silent party. He tries to stop you from leaving, grabbing your arm and telling you,
"It was never Nancy, Y/n. It's always been you." His sudden confession has you feeling feelings you had when you were with Steve. Feelings of always being the second choice. Feeling like your own partner didn't love you. You couldn't help but let the tears of frustration for your younger self spill and you slammed the door in Steve's face.
-
"Hey, princess. How'd it go?" You just sigh and hug him, starting to feel your eyes well up again. Once he heard your sniffling his eyes widened and hugged you tighter, holding your head in his chest.
"What happened baby?" His low voice soothes you. You take a deep breath.
"Steve was there." Eddie leans back, wanting to see your face. His heart hurts at the sight of your red eyes.
"What the hell did he do?" He can't help but start to get heated, his desire to protect you taking over.
"He- I don't know. It doesn't matter, it was stupid." He can tell you're holding back. He doesn't have to say anything more, only looking at you with the softest of looks until you tell him.
"He asked me to cheat on you, with him. Something about showing me his love." Eddie is furious, but more than that, frustrated and sad for you.
"Are you being serious, I swear to fuck I'll-"
"I took care of it." You assure him. He couldn't help but smile. How could he think even for a second you wouldn't?
"I slapped him, harder than I thought and I think I made it pretty clear I wasn't interested." You say with stern tone. He grins wide and proud, pulling you into his arms.
"That's my girl."
GOT7 Mafia Reaction: When their fiancee runs away
||| @tory-ah asked: Can you please do a GOT7 version of you their fiancé running away? |||
Jackson Wang
He set off to look for you himself. He had a lot of connections around the city and it didn’t take him long until somebody told him your location. He practically burst into the cafe you were staying at and came up to you in quick steps.
“Y/N!” he said, trying to catch his breath. You could tell he was in a hurry to get here.
“Jackson,” you started. “I’m tired of running,” you sighed. “Let’s just… Let’s just end this. There is plenty of fish in the sea. You will find someone else and-”
He slammed his fist on the table, startling you.
“No! I don’t care what you say but I don’t need anything but you, understand? (bonus points for you if you get the reference 😂) So you either come back on your own or I will just bring you back by force.”
Choi Youngjae
“Again?” he asked, staring at you. It’s been two months since he told you the truth about his job and ever since then you tried to escape exactly 8 times, all of which ended in failure. It’s not like you didn’t try something else but he didn’t want to break up with you and so you were left with no other option but to try and leave.
“I really don’t know why you keep doing this to me? Nothing has changed, has it? You just know more about what I do…”
That’s true but the fact that he has another side to him frightened you and you wished you never had to see it.
“Now,” he spoke again, his voice strict. “Stop causing me trouble or we will need to take some drastic measures again.”
Mark Tuan
You were about to step onto the train when strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you away. You didn’t even need to look back to see who it was, the grip which quickly turned into a warm embrace was all to familiar.
“Mark, I…” you began.
He hushed you and started planting kisses on your bare shoulder, going up to your ear.
“Baby,” he whispered. “I got the whole city under control. What were you thinking?” he asked, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the anger in his voice. “I’m sorry but now that we’re engaged there is no place for you to hide.”
Park Jinyoung
One week. That’s all it took for him to find you. You watched him enter the room, he said something to the guards and you two were quickly left alone. He came up to the table and took a seat in front off you.
“Y/N, look at me,” he said but you didn’t listen. “Why?” he asked again after a short silence.
“Why?” you chuckled, finally looking at him. “Are you seriously asking me that?! You never told me about your so called real job! I can’t-” you stopped when your eyes met his.
“Tell me.”
“I can’t be with a dangerous man as you,” you said, turning your gaze away.
He tapped his fingers on the table, deep in thought.
“Babe, there is no way I will let you go this easily,” he finally said, standing up. “We’re getting married and that’s final.”
JB/Im Jaebum
You unlocked the door to your new apartment and threw the bags down on the floor. You went to the bedroom and turned the lights on.
“Hello Y/N,” somebody spoke from the couch. “I have been waiting for you.”
“Jaebum?!” you stuttered. “H-how did you find me?”
He looked at you with that ‘really?’ expression on his face. He leaned his head on his arm, checking you out.
“You cut your hair? Were you that desperate to avoid me? You know, you could have just told me if you didn’t want to get married anymore.”
“Alright,” you said, standing in front of him. “Jaebum, I don’t-”
“Aaand no,” he said, scooping you up from the ground.
“Jae! Put me down!” you struggled in his grip.
“That’s also a no,” he continued, throwing you over his shoulder. “We’re going home. Then we will talk.”
BamBam
“What is it?” he asked his men, annoyed that they called him out from an important meeting.
“It’s Y/N,” one of the men said. “We lost her, sir.”
“You lost her?!” he shouted. “How can you lose a grown up woman? She’s not a child!”
“We’re sorry but she outsmarted us and-”
“Shut up,” he interrupted them. “How long has she been missing?”
“Two hours.”
“Two hours?! Then what the hell are you doing here? Go find her!” he ordered. “I don’t care what it takes. Bring her home tonight!”
Kim Yugyeom
You had everything planned. You knew he will come back home later today, so you decided to use this opportunity to run away. But it seems even walls have ears in this city.
You took your suitcase and were about to head out when he walked in through the front door.
“Going somewhere?” he asked tauntingly, throwing his keys on the nearby dresser. “Did you really think it will be that easy?”
“Yugy… I can explain…” you said, setting the suitcase aside.
“Sorry baby but you’re not leaving me,” he said, taking a step towards you with every word. “Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever,” he finished, cornering you between the wall and his body. He leaned in so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You’re mine, don’t you ever forget that,” he whispered.
A/N: Haven’t written for Got7 in a very long time. Makes me kind of sad tbh. I should be more active 😕
Dueling Fates.
Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader
Summary: Anakin really, really wants to win for once.
Warnings: 18+ definitely smut. Minors DNI or I’ll find you and bite you. Hatefucking (?), reader gets dominated, vulnerability, name calling, restraint, hair pulling, neck kisses, biting, honestly the works.
A/N: This is my first smut in years and i got a bit carried away with the lead up cuz im a sl*t for tension and foreplay and i had to cut it short but i’m pretty proud of this for my first time back. I’m sorry if i made any mistakes, i proofread but mistakes happen! Thanks for reading <3 Enjoy filthy Anakin.
Word count: 3.1K (I know it’s long I got excited.)
Anakin wasn’t a sore loser, not by his definition at least. He just knew he could do better. That’s why when he lost against you again in a sparring session something began to boil his blood. He stood up and stared at you for a moment, you knew what that look meant.
“Again.” He spoke sternly, not at all to your surprise. His lightsaber was still ignited and held in front of him with shaking, frustrated hands. His eyes were glazed over as if possessed by the idea of winning. This had been your third session together and prior to you two partnering up you had been training for 4 hours.
“I’ve been at this for hours I would much rather go eat than tend to your bruised ego, Skywalker.” You put your lightsaber in its rightful spot on your hip and looked up at him with your arms crossed.
It was true that Anakin rarely lost but almost every time he did, it was to you. If you had a scoreboard to keep track, it wouldn’t look good for him. You were older by two years and therefore had more experience. Not by much, but enough to make a difference. He was strong, big, and extremely quick with his reflexes but you were small, agile, and had levels of pattern recognition too high for him to catch you off guard. All his best traits came to your advantage and he hated it.
“Cut the bullshit. I know you’ve got one more in you.” He spoke, his eyes looked your tired frame up and down. You didn’t, in fact, have one more in you but you still agreed. Your legs were hurting in places you didn’t think they could and your arms were burning so badly they might as well have been dipped in lava.
“Fine.” You muttered as you neared him, taking your spot across from him at the training ring. You readied your lightsaber and the sound of it igniting filled your ears. His expressions were small, almost unnoticeable, but you could see how riled up he was in the small movements of his lip twitching and his eyes flickering from you to your lightsaber. You knew your mind wasn’t in it, your Master would have sent you to bed at the sight of you and you knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t encourage Anakin in the state he was in, as well.
A hint of something flashed across his face when you agreed and that settled the feeling you had, this would not be an easy one. The rivalry you two had was nothing more than friendly competition in the eyes of most but truth be told you were both too similar and stubborn, and it really did feel like you were truly enemies sometimes.
“Any day now, Y/L/N.” He spoke in that cocky tone that made you want to slash his head clean off his neck. You tightened your grip and swung first, the sound of your lightsabers clashing echoed through the large, now empty room. This was the best way to do it, offensive to start, swinging so he had the confidence that he could block your blows. Then when you began to feel even the slightest bit of exhaustion you’d play the defense, which was your specialty, until he spent himself. The rest? Too easy.
Your legs, while in pain, moved quickly. You dodged and rolled away from him multiple times. You enjoyed the feeling of him having to come to you, in the same way a dog owner experiences contentment when their dog obeys their commands.
You didn’t know what happened. You didn’t even know how it happened in the moment. He swung directly down your middle and you blocked him, pushing him back with a grunt. The noise he made in response was almost animalistic. It shocked you for just a fraction of a second but he swung and your block was delayed. He didn’t expect it and neither did you so when the swing connected to your leg you both froze. His reaction time, bless the Maker for it, was quick enough for him to stop before he melted your leg clean off but not quick enough to prevent it from grazing you.
You staggered back, retracting your lightsaber. Not a word left either of your mouths for a few seconds, though it felt more like a lifetime. The adrenaline was helping you feel less of the pain but it wasn’t fixing much.
“I didn’t think you’d connect.” You said through gritted teeth as your face contorted in pain. You dropped down on your ass to inspect the wound. “I didn’t think you’d fail to block.” He muttered as he rushed over to lean down next to you.
“I’ll get to a medic. Just leave me alone.” You nearly seethed at him. “I knew you weren’t the nicest sparring partner but I didn’t know you played dirty when you’re mad.” You pushed yourself off the ground, your injured leg bent at the knee as you hopped toward the exit of the training room.
Anakin narrowed his eyes as he walked next to you, not bothering to help due to your comment. “I don’t play dirty. Watch that loud mouth. It’ll be the reason you eat through a straw one day.” His hands were folded behind his back as he watched you struggle to get up the steps to get back into the temple.
“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and held on to the railing for dear life as you hopped up each step. You felt an arm slide across your back and under your armpit.
“I’ll show you dirty if you keep this up.” He muttered, it was barely audible but you heard it and decided the pain in your leg was far more important than his incessant rambling.
“Don’t touch me.” You seethed but you made no attempt to move away from him. He looked down at you and you got the reply of sweet silence. For once, he chose not to respond.
“The medical bay is in the opposite direction-“ You started. “Shut up. It’s just a surface scratch. I can clean it out for you and avoid us both getting in trouble for training after hours when we should have been eating.” He said sternly and a laugh escaped your mouth followed by a short wince.
“You mean avoid yourself getting in trouble. I wouldn’t get in shit over this. You challenged me and hurt me.” You responded. He shook his head and continued walking over to the dormitories. You recognized the hallway he was walking down to be the boys sector. You decided to bite your tongue for the time being. The wound, while not dangerous, was painful and you wanted to save your energy for something more worth while.
He opened the door to his room and placed you down on the small chair by his desk before turning to close the door. He walked away from you to find medical supplies while you inspected the wound and poked the skin around it, wincing in pain.
“Do you enjoy hurting yourself or something?” He muttered as he returned to see you poking away at your sensitive skin. You dropped your hand and looked up at him, your eyes followed him as he kneeled in front of you. You’d rather die than admit it but he did look good on his knees. Again, you stuck with the cold shoulder response, it was easier when you didn’t argue with him. You averted your gaze fairly quickly when he looked up at you for a moment. You didn’t even feel his hands on your hips until he spoke.
“Up.” His hands rested on the waistband of your pants and you cocked an eyebrow. “No funny business.” You muttered as you raised your hips to allow him to get the pants off and have better access to your thigh.
“Only in your dreams.” He spoke with a level of confidence that made you want to scream and rip his hair out of his head, but still, you stayed fairly silent.
He cleaned and dressed your wound, his touch was softer than you’d expected apart from the moments you would flinch and he’d use a bit of strength to hold your leg in place. “You’re gonna need new pants.” He said, his face was close enough to your skin that you felt the air leave his mouth as he spoke and it immediately created goosebumps on your legs. It was clear he noticed it because he did it again. “What? Is it cold in here?” His low voice sent vibrations to your leg and they flared up in little bumps again. His eyes trailed up your leg and the rest of your body until they finally rested on your own eyes. There was a look in his eyes that you had never been able to pin point and he had it often when he’d speak to you.
“Give me my stuff. I think we’re done now.” You said with a look of annoyance blanketing your expression. He followed promptly with a ‘tsk’ and his low voice, almost a growl, spoke again. “I don’t think we are.” His grip on your thigh squeezed gently and you tried snapping your legs shut only to be met by the barrier of his stupid head.
“What’s your deal, Skywalker?” You ask, your eyes boring holes into his own. You never made a single effort to move away, something about him was entrancing. His thumbs traced circles on your inner thigh by your hips and your legs twitched. You could feel your heart in your throat as he stared you down with the same intensity at you. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips when he felt you get nervous.
“What’s yours?” He mused as his hands travelled up to your waist and he pulled you down from the chair to sit on his lap where he was kneeling on the floor. A soft gasp escaped your lips and you felt a hand push on the back of your neck. Your foreheads were touching now and it felt like all the oxygen in the room had some how disappeared. Your hands instinctively rested on his chest as you straddled him.
Your mind was moving too quickly for you to say anything and before you knew it you felt his lips press against yours. His hand moved from its place on your neck to bunch up your hair and he held it in a tight grip causing a gasp to leave your mouth again.
‘I’ll show you dirty.’ His words from earlier rang in your head and you felt yourself shiver. He pulled away from you and laid you down on the cold, hard floor.
“Anakin-“ You started and he climbed over top of you, caging you in with his arms. “Years. I’ve spent years resenting you for the way you make me feel. Years watching you strut about and walk around with the confidence of thinking you’re better than I am. I hate how you speak to me and I hate the way you act.” He spoke, his eyes never left yours and your eyebrows furrowed.
“If you hate me so much why are you on top of me?” You found enough air to finally say something, your words came out shaky and breathless. “There’s one thing I can do to make myself feel better than you.” Anakin’s head dipped toward your neck as he spoke, he licked a stripe up from the base of your neck to the bottom of your ear before biting on your earlobe.
Your body quivered again and he smiled against your ear when a yelp left your mouth at the feeling of teeth biting down. “I can make you look pathetic and desperate. Just like you look right now.” He whispered again, your cheeks reddened and a small whimper left your mouth as he bit down on your neck, leaving small kisses between each bite. You couldn’t speak, you could barely breathe but you liked it. Your hands reached around to tangle into his hair and you pulled him up to make eye contact with you before pushing your lips against his in a desperate manner, open mouths collided as his tongue slipped into yours. After all the years spent being at each others throat when this is what you’d always wanted, you didn’t hesitate to push it to where you needed it to go.
Your hands fumbled with his utility belt and he smiled before lifting a single arm from beside your head to undo it in a moments notice. He sat back on his heels and pulled your belt off, your robe and tunic promptly followed. Your bare skin shivered as you laid back on the tile floor in his room and he smiled down at you. “Too pretty for your own good.” He mumbled as he pulled your underwear from your body leaving you completely vulnerable while he was still clothed. Your hands went for his robe and he pinned them down above your head, his hair flopped over his forehead in a way that made him look absolutely delectable.
He shook his head and another ‘tsk’ followed before he ducked down and placed his mouth right on your nipple that had hardened from the cold floor and excitement. A moan escaped your mouth and you bit down on your lip to stifle it. His eyes flickered open and he looked directly into your own, eye contact was definitely something he enjoyed. His free hand grasped at your chin and his thumb pulled your lip from between your teeth. “Try and hide how good you feel again and you’ll regret it.” His voice was stern and it made your head spin. You nodded.
“Use your words.” He said again and your back arched a little as his mouth returned to your nipple. “Y-yes, Anakin.” Your breathless words came out almost unintelligible. “Louder.” He said and grazed his teeth over your hardened bud. “Yes, Anakin.” You said louder as the shock of the feeling engulfed you. He smiled against you and returned to his position of hovering above you.
His hand trailed down your body agonizingly slowly, stopping right where your pussy was. His fingers traced the outside and you squirmed beneath him. “Please..” You whispered and his eyes darted back to yours. “Please what?” He spoke with his fingers still tormenting you, dancing around where you needed them the most. “Please, Anakin.” You whimpered and he smiled. “So fucking pretty when you say my name.” His mused, his voice almost came out as a low hum as his fingers finally slid up and down between your folds, picking up the juices that had collected. He pushed his lubricated fingers against your swollen clit and started to rub small, slow, circles against it. Your entire body jerked and he let go of your hands to press your hips down, your tailbone pushed against the tile and you winced causing your eyes to squeeze shut. You felt his fingers stop and instead felt a hand push your cheeks together causing your eyes to snap open, the smell of your pussy wafted toward your nose and a moan escaped your lips.
“Look at me. Don’t close your fucking eyes.” Anakin said, pushing your face to the side and letting go. His hand reached back down between your legs and he slipped two fingers into you. A yelp escaped you as he began to slide in and out, curling his fingers upward. Your eyes didn’t dare leave his as he continued to graze against the top wall. Your legs squeezed and his body kept them from closing. “Open your fucking legs.” He seethed and removed his other hand from holding you down to push your leg back down before returning to its spot on your hips. You pulled your legs apart and he continued to stare into your eyes. He ducked down and his tongue pushed against your clit as he fingered you.
“Y-yes.. Please..” You moaned as he began to flick his tongue against the nerve endings. He still hadn’t broken eye contact and you felt a knot begin to form in your stomach, your legs began to shake as well. His mouth moved away from you but his hand continued to defile your hole. “You cum when I say so, desperate bitch.” He spat and slowly returned to licking away at your clit. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched loudly in your throat. Your cheeks and ears burned at the words that fell through his lips.
“Yes, Anakin.” You said through your moans. You began clenching your pussy to hold back but that made the feelings even more amplified. Your breathing began to get heavier and heavier as you tried to take your mind somewhere else to keep yourself from going against his words but it was nearly impossible when you were forced to stare directly at him. He went on for what felt like an eternity before whispering against you. “Now.” He said and the vibrations of his voice made your entire body convulse as you let yourself go. You whimpered and squirmed while he held you in place. The knot in your stomach unraveled and warmth spread through your whole body, you couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut as you whimpered his name like it was the only word you knew. He pulled his fingers out and used your robe to wipe them off, his mouth followed shortly. He threw your clothes back at you and stood up.
“You can go now.” He said with a hint of a triumphant smile gracing his features. You sat up and immediately began to put the clothes back on, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable for your liking. When you stood up he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you toward him as he stared down at you with a firm grip on your bicep.
“Watch that wound and come back tomorrow.” He said with a voice that would have made any innocent bystander believe that nothing had happened in the last ten minutes. He placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on your head and his free hand moved your hair from your face.
You simply nodded and mumbled a quick, “Yes, Anakin.” before ducking out of his room and speed walking back to your own quarters, praying nobody saw you and suspected anything. You knew exactly how proud and cocky he looked as you left, you didn’t even need to look back at him. You felt like the dog obeying commands now and you really liked it, too.
PART TWO HERE YA NASTIES
@likeavillian24
Do it again | Hwang Hyunjin
Requested: “hyunjin reaction to you accidentally pulling his hair? maybe you're styling it or something and you tug a bit to pull a knot out hehe” - anon
Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: NSFW, hair pulling, biting, degrading, praising, Dom!hyunjin x sub!fem reader, unprotected sex, finger sucking, marking, man handling kind of, spanking & choking, uhhh I think that’s it???
Walking into the bedroom, the door already wide open, you find Hyunjin sitting in front of the mirror. His long legs are crossed, huffing and tugging at his blonde hair. Combing, well, attempting to comb it through with his fingers. His eyes fluttering shut in annoyance and he stops to let out a breath, close to just ripping the strands all out of his scalp. Reopening them, they instantly land on your figure behind him in the mirror. Eyes lighting up, he fixes his posture straightening up, the tantrum that was bubbling up inside him, gone.“Baby! Can you help me? Please?” He pouts, batting his lashes at you. He knows you won’t say no, but he pulls out his tricks anyway. Without a word, you take a brush off the top of the shelf that holds your accessories. Moving back towards Hyunjin, you kneel down behind him. Taking the black brush, you create a small section to start with, carefully trying to brush through the knots.
The first section was done with ease, no big knots, hair silky and beautiful. But as soon as you try to make another section, your fingers get caught. “A-ah” Hyunjin pouts, his hands flying up to grab your wrists. “I’m sorry Jinnie, I’m gonna have to pull it apart, this knot is too big” you try to comfort him, removing his hands from you gently. You go back to the task, grasping the section and the part you want to separate, you pull. “Ah, Y-Y/n” Hyunjin whimpers, grabbing onto you again. “Jinnie I can’t fix it if you don’t let go” You say sternly, your eyes narrowing in on him through the mirror. “N-No, it’s not that it h-hurts baby, I- never mind it’s s-silly” Hyunjin stutters, eyes dropping on the floor. The orbs seem to find a sudden interest in the fluffy rug underneath him, as he drops his hands onto his lap, too shy to look at you.
This was new. You’ve never seen him like this. Red dusting across his cheeks and he fidgets with his rings. Oh- It was like a lightbulb turned on inside your head. He likes it. He’s not hurting, he’s getting turned on. You smirk evilly at the realisation. A plan forming in your head. Quietly placing the hairbrush onto the floor, you thread your fingers closer to the roots, giving a light tug. Testing the waters. Even though you barely put any strength in. It was enough to have Hyunjins eyes flutter shut, and his lip moving between his teeth. Again, you tug, but this time slightly harder. “F-fuck” The curse slips from his lips without permission as his eyes fly open to stare right at you. His pupils blown wide, as he licks his plump bottom lip. He takes a deep breath “keep doing that, and I won’t be able to hold back princess” he whispers, but all his statement does is make you want to do it more. So you do, harder then the last two. This time a full moan leaves Hyunjins mouth as he grabs you wrists, twisting his body around. The fluff of the rug embraced your fall, as the Hyunjin pushes you down, effectively pinning you beneath him. He shoves your hands above your head, as he glares at you. Yet you can’t help the rush of excitement that runs through your veins. “Didn’t I warn you little one?” Hyunjin asks, raising an eyebrow. You look up at him, eyes wide, a fake facade of innocence, as you pout, “I was only trying to help you with the knots Jinnie”
Hyunjin clicks his tongue, as he runs his hands down your bare arms. “Keep your hands there.” He orders. He continues his journey down to the hem of your shirt, where he slides his hands underneath the cotton material, and up to your bare breasts. Cupping them as he hisses. “Such a naughty little slut, no bra hm, did you plan for this to happen?” He asks, while his index finger and thumb moves to pinch your hardened nipples, rolling and pulling them. He leans down until his lips are inches from your own. A small sadistic smirk on his face. “I asked you a question, I expect an answer” his breath ghosts along your lips. “N-no sir” you answer, stuttering at his sudden control over you. Hyunjin hums as he pulls away. Removing his hands from your breasts, he grips the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and off you. Your shirt lands somewhere in the room before quickly attaching his mouth onto your left breast, sucking and biting on the sensitive bud. Your hand automatically grips into his hair, and tugs lightly, making him moan breathily. Releasing your hardened bud with a pop, he dives in, repeating the same action to your right breast. “F-fuck Jinnie” You whine. He laughs in response, as he begins to kiss his way up to your neck; Biting on the flesh, and marking it as his.
His hands move down to your hips, griping onto them as he forces you to move onto your stomach, with your ass in the air as he sits on his knees. Your skirt does nothing to hide your bare wet pussy from his eyes. “Filthy whore, no underwear either. You’re really asking to just get fucked aren’t you?” Hyunjin degrades you, spanking your ass, sharply. The sting of if causing your clit to ache in want. “Look at you, fucking dripping everywhere, I’ve barely even touched you” he chuckles. Taking his index and middle finger, he spreads your soaked folds apart, exposing your needy hole to his eyes. He can’t help but lean forward, placing his mouth onto your cunt, tasting your sweet juices for a minute. “J-Jinnie” you gasp, further pushing your pussy in his face. He is quick to pull away, spanking your ass again. “Ah, I didn’t say to could move, did I slut?” He asks. “N-no sir, ‘m sorry” you apologise. Hyunjin rubs the flesh of your ass cheek, soothing it, “good girl” he praises. Hyunjin moves away from you slightly, unbuckling his belt. Pulling down his jeans and boxers. His cock slightly bounces from being released from the tight confinement. His right hand moves to wrap around his cock. Stroking it, making sure he’s fully hard before he rubs the tip along your folds. Catching onto your clit, you whimper. “J-Jinnie, plea-” your pled gets cut off by the feeling of Hyunjins cock pushing into your tight hole. Filling you up inch by inch until he’s buried deep inside you. A moan falling from both of your lips. Wrapping a strong arm around your stomach he pulls you up, back flush against his chest, you attempt to tug on his hair, hand around the back around his neck as best you can. As you pull him into a sloppy kid full of tongue and teeth.
Moving his hips slowly, Hyunjin begins to fuck you. The slow drag of his cock, is almost addictive, feeling of nothing but euphoria enters your brain. Removing his mouth from yours, he kisses down your neck leaving more and more purple marks. “Fuck, so fucking tight” Hyunjin groans in ear, fucking your cunt faster. His hand moves up and onto your throat, lightly gripping onto it. Your mind goes fussy at the sensation, as your pussy clenches on his cock. Loud moans and whines leave your mouth as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “So fucking loud, baby, you need to quiet down” Hyunjin says, his hand moving from your throat to your lips tapping two fingers on the plump flesh. “Open up, pretty slut” he orders. Doing as you’re told your lips part, welcoming his fingers into your mouth. The pads of his fingers pressing down on your tongue. “Suck” he orders again, voice lower than usual. But you obey, mouth closing around his fingers, the cold metal of his rings causing you to shiver as you suck. Saliva accidentally begins running down his fingers, almost mimicking the way your pussy juice drips down Hyunjins cock. Your eyes begin to fill with tears of pleasure as he begins to thrust deeper, hitting that one spot over and over again. “Fuck, I’m close baby” Hyunjin groans as his hips move impossibly faster.
The sound of skin slapping fills the room. “Pull my hair, do it again” he barks as his other hand releases his vice like grip on your hips, sliding down until his finger tips slides easily over your swollen clit. Your grip moves from his neck to his hair, tangling into the locks and tugging as you both reach you high. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” Hyunjin curses. “Cum with me baby” he whispers, thrusts becoming sloppy the closer he gets. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your whole body begins to shake, your orgasm taking over you. As you cream on his cock. “Shit” another groan falls from Hyunjins lips as he thrusts into you deep, your cunt clenching tight, practically milking his cock. His thick cum hitting the deepest parts of your pussy. Filling you up until it drips out around Hyunjin’s softening cock.
Removing his fingers from your mouth, you both pant, trying to catch your breaths. Hyunjin whispers soft praises into your hair as he removes his softening cock from you, his cum instantly running out of you. “Such a good girl for me, did so well” his hands run up and down your waist, soothing you as he gets ready to get some cloths to clean you both up. “I think it’s safe to say you have a hair pulling kink hm?” You giggle, cause Hyunjin to giggle with you. “Yes, that’s safe to say baby”
Ah finally, my first one shot is done! I hope you guys like it, I enjoyed writing this a lot and will definitely be writing more one shots in the future!^-^ ~ Love Chels
Tag List 🏷 | @miatsubaki23 @serendipityfelix @maknaeronix @ramblingsofawolfgirl {if you want to be added or removed please let me know}
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a/n: this is the cutest hhhhhhhhhh i hope you like it!
jaebum
his eyes open tiredly as he felt the shaking on his arm. he took a glance on the blinking light of the watch by the bedside table before turning to look at you with worried eyes. “baby? what is it?” he asked, voice husky in the wee hours of the morning. he cupped your face gently and stroked his thumb on your cheeks. “did you know that alpaca’s wool fibers are flame-resistant?” you said with an excited smile, your eyes shining a bit and hr bursted out laughing.
“i did not know that, y/n,” he answered with a soft smile. you nodded and rested your head on his chest, leaving soft kisses on his bare skin before drifting back to sleep. “love you, baby,” he mumbled before he fell back into dreamland.
mark
you were up until one in the morning, watching videos about llamas. you didn’t know why but it entertained you until you fell asleep, phone still clutched in a hand while the other was thrown around mark’s waist. he’s been in dreamland since he came home at around 11 after a meeting. normally he was a deep sleeper but somehow when you spoke his name quietly, he opened his eyes, pulling you closer to him.
“hmm?” he asked, rubbing your arm as you mumbled silently. “llamas’ poop don’t smell. and they use it as fertilizer and even fuel in brazil.“ you said, eyes still closed and a grin formed in his lips. he took his phone and filmed you mumbling softly about llamas before you dropped a kiss on his chin and continued on your sleep. he laughed and kissed your temple, muttering a soft “i love you,” before closing his eyes.
jackson
it was a quick flight to hongkong but after their tight schedule, jackson took this opportunity to sleep in the plane, you following him to dreamland. at first you spent your first half of an hour watching him sleep with a small smile in your lips before deciding it was a bit creepy. he was sleeping peacefully on your shoulder so you lay your head on his and drifted off yourself.
“hey jacks,” you mumbled as you stirred in your sleep, waking him up and he looked up at you with drowsy eyes. “yes, babe?” he asked and you snuggled closer to him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “did you know that alpacas have a type that grows silky dreadlocks?“ you said, yawning. you pressed a kiss on his cheek before closing your eyes and falling back to sleep. he threw his head back in laughter before kissing your hair lovingly and going back to sleep.
jinyoung
it was one of those days when you both had nothing to do except watch movies and/or nap in the living room, snuggled together in the couch. he was fast asleep and had you in his arms, cuddled to his chest as your hand gripped on his shirt. you stirred in your sleep as if waking from a dream and you sat up, waking him up in the process.
“what is it, sweetheart?” he asked as you rubbed your fist on your eyes, a habit you do when you wake up. letting out a yawn, you answered him, “llama’s scientific name is lama glama? lama glama, lama glama, lama glama.“ you said, voice hoarse from the sleep. on habit, you pecked his lips before slumping on him again, arms wrapped around his waist to which he smiled softly. brushing your hair away from your face, he kissed your forehead and mumbled, “i love you,” before drifting back to sleep.
youngjae
after a date in a beach quite a drive from seoul, you both had fell asleep on the cab you called. it was a long day but you two were happy nonetheless since it’s been quite some time since you went out on a date. your head was on his shoulder while his arm is wrapped around you and his head resting on yours.
he stirred in his sleep when he felt you moving your hand to grip his, interlocking your fingers. “youngjae, did you know that alpacas mostly hum and not spit?“ you muttered softly and he laughed as you kissed his cheek and returned to your sleep as if nothing happened. youngjae closed his eyes and kissed your forehead lovingly before returning to sleep.
bambam
“babe?” he asked as you suddenly sat up. it was still dark outside from he observed and he took you in his arms again, making you face him.
“bam,” you trailed off, eyes barely open as if you’re sleeptalking. he hummed, rubbing your back, coaxing you to continue what you’re saying. “a-alpacas don’t have teeth in their upper palette.“ you said and he chuckled, voice husky from the sleep as he pulled you down back to the bed. “that’s adorable, baby,” he answered and you grunted a yes and kissed his lips before going back to sleep. bambam laughed again, taking his phone from the nightstand to snap a picture of you before he cuddled you closer to him. “love you so much,” he mumbled before falling back to sleep.
yugyeom
“y/n,” he whined as he felt you shaking him to wake him up. yugyeom buried his face on the crook of your neck and you pouted. “yugy, i have something to tell you,” you cooed, eyes still droopy but you had excitement in your voice. he looked up at you, hand moving on your waist, his thumb rubbing softly on the skin under your shirt. “yeah?” he asked, voice husky from the sleep.
“llamas, t-they give birth standing up,“ you said and smiled widely before you wrapped your arm on his waist and snuggled your head on his chest. he groaned but didn’t stop the smile forming on his lips as you peppered his skin kisses and then drifted back to sleep. he sighed and dropped a kiss on your hair. “you make me fall in love with you harder every day,” he smiled and fell back to sleep.
Hopelessly Devoted to You ☢
Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Summary: You’ve been by Ellie’s side since she was little, a family figure and her protector, after both of your families passed away and you found one another in the QZ. So, when the gruff and demanding Joel Miller steps into the picture to take you both to the lab Ellie needs, the two of you don’t see eye to eye. But after time passes, attraction settles in and you and Joel might feel more for the other than you thought.
A/N: hehe so it’s been a minute… i hope you all are doing well and happy new year to everyone!! the last of us show has been occupying my thoughts for the last two weeks oh my god and PEDRO?? i love him with everything in me, first mando and now joel fucking miller, so i had to write for him and i hope you guys enjoy this drabble and as always let me know what you think <3 be gentle with me, smut is hard to write T-T (i have never wished i was a steering wheel this badly before seeing this fucking gif) I already wanna write more
Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, AGE GAP (Reader is late twenties, Joel is like 56), language, near death experience, violence, oral f receiving, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, enemies to lovers ish, just filth, daddy kink, slight angst, mentions of death, injuries, tending wounds, rough!Joel, dom!Joel
Keep reading
Part 2 for poison??? Where he goes back to reader for another hook up but this time he needs to be close to her. Like legs wrapped around him and her hands in his hair while he practically latches himself onto you. Smut smut smut. He secretly really likes her but doesn’t want anyone to know yk keeping up with his asshole facade
antidote (poison pt2)
Plot: last time should have been the last time, just like he said. But when he comes crawling back, needier than ever you can’t help but come back pt.1
Pairings: asshole!Wally Clark x loner!fem!reader, alive!wally x alive!reader
warning(s): the obvious SMUT!, fluffy end, wally actually ends up being nice and in love? Characters are 18!!! Unprotected sex (WRAP IT), public sex!! Creampie!! Fucking POORLY written. NOT PROOFREAD
a/n: HI GUYS. okay so ik its been a minute 💀 im sorry i usually pump these out and get serious writers block but im TRYING. okay i also know you said to keep him an asshole but i NEEDED fluff!! Enjoy!
Finding yourself at the schools Friday night football game was NOT on your agenda, but you couldn’t help it. You felt drawn in and one of your newer friends BEGGED you to go with her so you did, reluctantly. The stands were PACKED with parents, siblings and other family members along with almost ALL of your classmates. Had football really been THIS popular?
you gave a low groan as you ducked and weaved through the crowd, trying not to get hit or bumped into. It wasn’t working out very well. Small sorry’s left your mouth as you finally wormed your way into your seat next to Julie, who was already teeming with energy.
“ i’m so excited. Monrovia has ALWAYS been a tougher team to beat, hopefully this year with Wally we can beat them. ”
At the mention of his name you tensed, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in what seemed like months (more so a week or two). A part of you, deep down ached for him, while the other part tried to keep you reasoned that he was the one that ended everything, he wanted nothing to do with you. And yet…somehow it felt like he still wanted you. None of the athletics (cheerleaders and football players) even stopped to say anything to you, or tease you about something so small. They just went on their merry way. Had he said something to them?
“ uh hello? Did you hear me? Wally’s looking at you! "
a small shake to your shoulders finally snapped you from your thoughts as your eyes moved to finally make eye contact with said football player. He was finally on the field after their introduction and was staring right at you from his huddle with his team. Once the both of you made eye contact he quickly looked away and popped his helmet on.
you shook your head, blinking yourself back to reality. What was his deal? The buzzers from the score board sounded, commencing the start of the first quarter of the game. The crowd around you buzzed to life in cheers as the boys got into formation after the coin toss, cementing that Monrovia would be starting with the ball. The first kick off was a strong one, sending the ball soaring to the back of the split river formation.
and like that the game set off into a very close, neck to neck game. One team would score and then the other would quickly swoop in and tie with their own touchdown. Everyone around you was on edge, Julie was screaming chants with the student section, making fun of the team and the other student section. You just sat quiet and cheered quietly when your team would score, trying not to burn in embarrassment. But slowly got into the energy of it all, starting to cheer in the last quarter of the game.
within the last few seconds of the game you shot up from your seat, cupping your hands around your mouth as you shouted.
“ GET THAT BALL TO THE END ZONE, WALLY! ”
His attention turned to you for only a second before something inside him amped up, making him sprint and dodge around the other team a bit faster. within the last second his feet finally landed in the end zone, signifying that they had scored the winning points and FINALLY got their hands on the win over Monrovia after years of losing. Loud screams and cheers erupted from the stands around you, the band immediately kicked in with their anthem as the team on the field flocked the quarter back in the end zone.
loud whoops and chants sounded from the boys as they hopped and shook with Wally in their arms, the other team standing dejectedly to the side, feeling the stab of loss from years of winning. You cheered loudly with your classmates, laughing happily as your friend latched onto you.
“ its like he HEARD you! You’re a fucking lucky charm! ”
she squealed happily and shook you, excitement bubbling from her as she darted off to some of her other friends to talk to them. Your attention finally turned back to the football team, seeing the ever happy Wally grinning and congratulating his teammates. His eyes then turned to you, a smirk playing at his lips as he sent you a wink. Butterflies seemed to spring from nowhere in your stomach at the motion, turning to look and see if he was sending it to anyone else, but no one else was paying any attention to the team. You looked back at him again and watched him mouth “stay after”, seeming to mean after the stadium cleared out.
After about an hour of waiting, almost everyone was cleared out of the stadium, lights beginning to shut off. You slowly started to lose hope he’d actually come talk to you, or even if he was still there. You carefully tossed your hood up as it started to drizzle, then pour. You sighed and turned, starting to walk toward the gates when a loud whistle echoed from the dressing rooms. Your head snapped to the source, seeing Wally walk out of the building. He was in his after game attire, hair in messy curls atop his head from the sweat and rain finally hitting his head.
you paused and crossed your arms, trying to keep up your “i hate you” mindset. But seeing him there after weeks made your knees feel like jello. What the fuck was going on in your head?! You tilted your head and watched as he got closer, making you step back
“ didn’t think you’d come to a game. But then i saw you in the stands, dressed in the schools colors with MY number of all numbers painted on your cheek. ”
you scoffed as he finally stopped before you, rolling your eyes as you looked away from him. She painted his number on your cheek? Did she know about you two hooking up or was this one of her dumb “he’s cute” things.
“ yeah, i didn’t paint this on, Julie did. Like hell id risk getting made fun of just to wear your number, Clark. "
He hissed in fake pain as you snapped at him, scrunching his face a bit to add to it. He chuckled and without a word tugged you close but your waist. You gasped in surprise as your chest collided with his, feeling the clothing start to get soaked from the heavy rain. What the hell was he doing?
“ you should wear it more often. Fuck all the time actually. Look..i was a fucking dumbass for pushing you away. Not being able to be near you drove me mad and made me realize some shit that i didn’t want to face. ”
your eyes widened as you realized he was about to confess his feelings. Were you even ready for that? Before he could even say another word you pushed yourself up and kissed him roughly, cupping the back of his head as you tried to keep him from saying anything. A small grunt sounded from the other as he immediately held onto your waist, keeping you close to his body.
the kiss started heated and just continued to stay that way, tongues meshing together in the middle as hands wondered each others bodys. And with hands wandering, came clothes starting to be removed. Were you about to fuck on the football field? You couldn’t really care less, you just needed him now. Moving yourself down onto the soaking grass, you felt him moved between your legs and carefully slip a hand between the two of you.
a small gasp leaves your mouth as he rubs at your clit for a moment, letting you get adjusted and wet enough for him to slip his fingers into your soaking center. Your eyes rolled back a bit from the stretch of his long fingers. Thank fuck for this lanky man, being blessed EVERYWHERE. small moans slipped from your lips as he pumped and curled his fingers in and out of you. Getting you nice and stretched was something he’s never done so it was a nice little change, it made your heart flutter in an odd way?
after a few minutes of prepping you he pulled his fingers out and used whatever wetness he had to lube himself just enough to carefully slip into your awaiting cunt, his eyes rolling back at the hug of your walls. Another gasp came from your throat as he slid inside of you, your hands clambering to grip onto his back to have some sort of tether to earth. He grunted and held still for a second, kissing along your neck and throat, arms winding around your middle to keep you close to him.
As much as your mind was SCREAMING at you to get the hell off the ground, you felt like you were in heaven. Especially when he started to finally fuck his cock in and out of your hot cunt. Moans and groans intertwined from the two of you as you fucked on the football field, rain poured around the two of you, drowning out your sounds so only the two of you could hear. You made an attempt to open your eyes, only to be met with Wally already looking at you. You whimpered softly and drew your eyebrows together, keeping eye contact as you moaned louder. Watching his face morph with pleasure at your sounds, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.
He carefully reached between the two of you, rubbing at your clit as he continued to pound into you. The knot in your stomach starting to tighten, feeling it start to verge on snapping. Your eyes rolled back a bit as it all began to be too much for you to even handle.
“ thats it baby, cum for me. Fuck, please cum. ”
he groaned out and placed his forehead to yours, feeling himself near his end as well. With a few final snaps into you, he was releasing everything he had into your awaiting cunt. And once you felt his load fill you, you threw your head back into the ground and cried out as you came not to far behind him. He kept his hips rocking, just to ride out your highs before slowly pulling out of you. He pushed himself up a bit and panted, looking at the absolute mess you were below him making him give a breathy chuckle.
“ we should probably hit the showers, babe. Were an absolute mess. ”
you slowly nodded your head, the after sex high still buzzing in your brain. You let him do what he needed, meaning letting him carry your naked form into the locker rooms to wash the both of you off. It was absolute silence as you stood under the water, somehow more awkward than the times before. Was it because of what he was going to say?
after washing off, you held the towel you were offered tight to your body. Finally registering that your clothes were out on the field still, ruined by the rain and the mud. But it was like Wally read your mind, carefully pulling out some extra clothes he had stuff away in his locker. You tugged on the sweat pants and the hoodie he offered you, humming softly at the warmth of them. He tugged on his own pair of sweats and a tank top, slowly turning to you as he shrugged on his letterman.
“ look…i..fuck. Okay so..i really like you. And i know saying that doesn’t really make up for how i treated you, but it just happened. I realized it when we fucked in the supply closet. And i understand if you don’t feel the same, i just really wanted to tell you. ”
you threw your hand up and covered his mouth to keep him from sputtering on anymore than he was, watching his cheeks and ears go red from embarrassment. You gave a soft giggle as you stared up at him, tilting your head a bit.
“ i like you too dumbass. As much as i hate that i fell for you, i did. ”
he visibly relaxed and moved your hand, tugging you closer as he carefully kissed you. This time keeping it gentle, full of passion. You could really get used to this sweet side Wally had hid away.
See Him Again
Summary: The reader goes back in time to 2012 and sees Loki for the first time since his death. Alternative ending.
Pairing: Loki x reader
Word Count: 2,494
A/N: Haven’t posted Loki in a while so here you go! Let me know what yall think xx
Main masterlist
It felt like falling, when the effect of the Pym particles took over. Before you knew it, you were hurtling through… nothing in particular. It was like a dream, and it almost felt fake, like it wasn’t actually happening. Then, you were gasping for breath, nearly stumbling before regaining your balance. Blinking furiously, you looked around, relaxing when you saw that your friends were still close to you.
That’s when you focused on your surroundings, mouth dropping open. Holy shit.
Keep reading
*Perfect Revenge – Steve Harrington
Warnings: cheated on and cheating with, underage drinking, rough sex, unprotected sex, language
I walked around the house, not entirely sure whose house I was at. With my one and only beer in my hand, I roamed the house looking for my boyfriend. Johnathan and I have been together for about three months. This party was his idea. I'm not sure why he insisted on coming. He usually hated parties.
I headed down the hallway and opened random doors. I wish I had never checked the last door. I covered my mouth as I gasped when my eyes adjusted to the dark.
"Johnathan?!" I yelled when the shock wore off.
"Y/N," he stuttered. "It's not what it looks like."
"Really?" I scoffed. "So you're not fucking Nancy Wheeler?!"
"Y/N. . ."
"Shut up, bitch!"
I turned around and stormed out of the room. I ignored their calls and focused on getting out of there. My mind was racing as I rushed down the hallway. I gasped when I bumped into someone.
"Whoa," Steve laughed. "Are you okay, Y/N?"
"I'm fine," I said, slowly and softly.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"I don't really believe you," he mumbled, "but anyway, have you seen Nancy?"
"Yes," I whispered. "But you're not gonna want to know."
"Why?" He paused. "Y/N," he elongated, "what's going on?"
I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. So instead, I pointed. He sent me a look before walking into the room I just left. I knew he was there when I heard Nancy gasp his name.
Wow. . . They didn't bother stopping.
When he reappeared in front of me, I could see the anger in his eyes. He looked at me and that anger softened.
"Let's go," he said through clenched teeth.
"Where?"
"Does it matter?" He said harshly. He cleared his throat and changed his tone. "I'm sorry, Y/N. When I said 'let's go', I meant let's get out of here before I beat your boyfriend's ass."
"Ex-boyfriend," I mumbled. "I mean I haven't actually broken up with him. He was a little. . . busy. But I think it's pretty obvious. Right?"
Steve smiled softly at me as he stepped closer and grabbed my hand. "Right," he whispered. "Let me try this again; wanna get out of here and go get a drink somewhere we aren't being cheated on?"
"I'd like that," I tried to laugh but my voice cracked. He intertwined our fingers and led me to his car. He turned it on but didn't leave the house.
"I don't know where to go," he mumbled.
"I know a place," I said softly.
"What do you mean? Neither one of us is twenty-one."
"My cousin owns a bar," I explained. "He'll serve us if you're with me."
"Good to know," he smirked.
As Steve drove us to my cousin's bar, I couldn't get the image of Johnathan and Nancy out of my head. I cleared my throat, trying to get the frog out of my throat.
"You okay?" He asked, pulling me out of my head.
"Nope."
"Me either."
When we got there, we got out of the car and headed inside. "Hey, Y/N," my cousin greeted us from behind the bar.
"We need a drink," I said, sitting on the bar stool in front of him. "Now."
"Wow," he laughed. "What's wrong with you two?"
"My boyfriend cheated on me tonight."
"Damn," he sighed as he instantly grabbed a glass and started making me my usual.
"With his girlfriend," I finished as I pointed at Steve.
"Double damn."
"Steve, this is my cousin, Mark," I introduced. "He's gonna get us drunk."
"Just don't tell anyone," Mark said, sending us a smirk. "What'll you have, Steve?"
* * * * *
About an hour later, Steve and I were deliriously drunk.
"What are we gonna do about this?" Steve drunkenly sighed.
"I don't know," I pouted. "But. . ."
"But what?" He asked when I didn't continue. He swiveled his stool toward me.
"But whatever we do. . ."
"Tell me, Y/N," Steve chuckled.
"Promise you won't judge me?" I asked.
"I promise," he said, crossing his heart.
"I want to make them hurt," I said, not meaning to make my voice sound darker. "I want to make them feel as shitty as we feel."
"What did you have in mind?" Steve smirked.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "We can't actually hurt them."
"True," he chuckled. "But we can do to them what they did to us."
"You mean. . ."
I held my breath as Steve grabbed my knees and spun me toward him. I gasped as he slowly slid his hands higher. I stopped focusing on how high his hands were going as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.
As soon as my body flooded with endorphins, I grabbed his face and deepened the kiss. We scooted as close as we could get without falling off our stools. I gasped when Steve pulled on my legs, making my stool scoot closer to his. It still wasn't close enough to him so he slid off his stool. I moaned against his lips as he opened my thighs and stood between my legs.
"Steve," I moaned as soon as he broke the kiss and started kissing my neck. "Maybe we should. . . Don't you think. . ."
I gasped when he bit my neck, making me shiver with pleasure.
"Let's get out of here," I said quickly. Steve slowly pulled away with a dirty smirk on his face.
"I like the sound of that."
Without another word, Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me with him. The butterflies in my stomach went crazy as he led me to his car. We got in and started driving us somewhere. I didn't bother to ask him where we were going. The truth was, I didn't care where we were going.
I smirked when Steve pulled onto a hiking trail. My stomach flipped when I realized where we were going.
"I've always wanted to come here," I said under my breath.
"Johnathan never brought you to Skull Rock?" He asked, smirking in a way that made my whole body burn.
"He thought it was your spot," I whispered, "and he didn't want to run into you and. . . Nancy."
I looked away when I connected the dots and figured out the real reason he never wanted to come here. With tears in my eyes, I looked down and started playing with my fingers. I held my breath when Steve reached over and put his hand on top of mine.
"Let's not think about them," he whispered. "Besides, we're here."
I looked up to see Steve had parked. He got out and sent me a wink before opening my door for me. He grabbed my hand but I didn't go with him.
"What's wrong?" He asked, his face dropping. "I thought you. . ."
I got out of the front seat but immediately turned and started getting in the back seat. Steve smirked as he leaned against the car.
"Y/N," he said in a sing-songy voice, "you know the whole point of Skull Rock is to make out at, on, and against Skull Rock?"
"I know," I shrugged. Steve swallowed hard when I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it into the front seat. "But what's the harm in getting started here?"
"Nothing," he said through clenched teeth. "Absolutely fucking nothing."
I laughed when he got into the back, instantly climbing on top of me. When he was straddling me, he tore his shirt off and tossed it toward mine. Steve made me gasp as he pressed his lips roughly to mine.
We didn't waste any time. Soon, we were only in our underwear, our bodies dancing against each other.
I gasped and arched my back when Steve leaned down and pressed his face between my breasts. I have never wanted to get rid of a piece of clothing as much as I have wanted to tear off my bra.
Luckily, Steve beat me to it. He slid his hand under my body and was able to undo it with one hand. The second he got it undone, I tore it off and tossed it somewhere.
"Fuck!" I moaned loudly as his lips wrapped around my nipple. "Shit, Steve Harrington," I moaned. "I used to hear about what you did to the girls you brought here."
I gaped when he roughly pulled away. He looked me straight in the eyes as he said, "All of them were nothing compared to you, gorgeous. They were just pointless and useless fucks. Not you."
Steve leaned down and smashed his lips onto mine. I ran my fingers through his hair, slightly pulling on strands until he groaned. When I couldn't take it anymore, I grabbed the hem of his boxers and tore them down his thighs. The second he was free, I kicked off my underwear.
Before either one of us could really think this through, I opened my legs and Steve positioned himself. I gasped, breaking the kiss and arching my back when he pushed into me. Things sped up as our lips moved in sync as our bodies danced. We did different things, changing whenever we made the other moan.
We lost track of time as we only focused on each other. Out of the different sexual experiences I've had, Steve Harrington was something else.
"I know why all the girls at school call you the King of Hawkins High," I moaned. My moan turned into a gasp when he pulled out of me.
Steve chuckled as he leaned down and returned his face to my favorite spot. "Fuck," I groaned as he started massaging my breast with his mouth.
Without moving his mouth, Steve grabbed my leg and wrapped my thigh around his waist. I swore under my breath when he was able to push back into me while making out with my chest.
"Oh Steve," I moaned. I grabbed his face and brought it back to mine. Our lips instantly started devouring each other and our tongues battled for dominance.
"Squeeze," he moaned into my mouth.
"Harder," I moaned back. It seemed like we both held our breaths as we fulfilled the other's request. We let out releasing moans as we gave into our rising orgasms.
As we slowly pulled apart, we looked into each other's eyes. The butterflies went crazy as he reached up and moved some hair out of my face. I wanted to say something sweet, something to tell him how much the night meant to me, but nothing came to mind. So instead, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"Guess we never made it to Skull Rock."
* * * * *
After Steve and I got our revenge, he drove me home and I figured it would end there.
It didn't.
A couple of days later, I was in my room finishing my report when someone knocked on my window. I looked up and my heart jumped in my throat.
"Steve?" I panicked. I quickly stood up, went to my window, and opened it. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you," he shrugged like it was obvious. I watched as he climbed through my window.
"Why?" I couldn't help but ask. When Steve turned around, he grabbed my waist and pulled me into his chest.
"Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," he said, his voice low. "You, my backseat, and the hiking trail parking lot half a mile from Skull Rock."
I moaned when he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Without breaking the kiss, Steve walked us toward my bed. We gasped, slightly chuckling as we fell backward.
Instead of kissing me again, he stopped. He reached over and moved some hair out of my face.
"You really haven't stopped thinking about me?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Of course not," he whispered. "I have thought about absolutely everything that happened that night."
"Everything?"
"Well, not everything," he smirked. "But only the important parts."
"Like?" I baited. I moaned when he slipped his hand under my shirt, searching for my breast. When he squeezed, I let out another moan.
"Like the feel of your skin against mine," he started listing off. "Like the feel of your body underneath mine. Like the feeling of my lips on your skin. Like the feeling of other body parts pressed and intertwined."
"But what about. . ." I started to ask but couldn't get myself to finish it.
"I broke up with her after I dropped you off."
"Wait, what?" I asked, slightly readjusting under him. He sat up and pulled me with him.
"After I took you home the other night," he explained, "I went by her house. She wasn't there, so I waited. The second she got home, I went to talk to her. I demanded answers and asked her about her and Johnathan. I won't tell you. . ."
"Please," I cut him off. "Tell me."
Steve sighed as he reached up and moved a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he started, "but they've been hooking up for months."
"Months?"
He slowly nodded. "Wow," I whispered as I looked down.
"I know this sucks," he said gently, "but it's a blessing in disguise."
"How?" I asked, my voice breaking. Steve used his finger to lift my head. Without saying anything, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.
"Because it got us together," he whispered as he broke the kiss and kept his forehead pressed to mine. "It made me realize that you are so much better for me than Nancy Wheeler."
"Really?" I asked, the butterflies from a couple of days woke up. He didn't kiss me. Instead, he started kissing my jaw. I felt the hickeys form as he explored my neck.
"What did you say?" I stuttered, trying to get my head back on straight.
"What do you mean?" He moaned against my collarbone.
"The other night," I barely got out, "with Nancy."
"Oh yeah," he smirked as he pulled away. "I ended it. I also told her you and Johnathan were over so she could have him." His smirk dropped. "Was that okay?"
"Yes," I said softly. "It is. Besides, those two cheaters deserve each other."
Steve leaned in but didn't press his lips to mine. Instead, he whispered, "Just like how we deserve each other."
"You really believe that?"
To answer me, Steve closed the gap between us and kissed me. I ran my fingers through his hair as our lips moved in sync. We broke the kiss with matching moans.
"I really do," he whispered. "I know Johnathan hurt you. And honestly, I want to beat the shit out of him for making you cry. But I won't do that. Instead, I'll get back at him by treating you better. Way better, Y/N. The way you deserve to be treated. I promise."
Steve put his hand on my stomach and laid me down, hovering over me. I arched my back when he started kissing and biting my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut as he explored my skin.
"Have you ever done it in the shower?" I asked between moans. Steve pulled away and smirked down at me. "I've never done it, but I hear it's pretty amazing."
"It's fucking unbelievable," he growled, grinding his body against mine. "I can show you the ropes."
"Ropes?" I teased. "Is that your kink, Harrington?"
"Not really," he shrugged teasingly. "My kink is more sneaking around and doing it when and where I know I shouldn't."
"Well then," I moaned as I slid my hands under his shirt and started slowly unbuttoning his pants. "I can show you the ropes."
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