Benedict Cumberbatch As Professor Buckley  Saturday Night Live | S42E05

Secret boyfriend!Bakugo, who is meticulous about keeping your relationship discreet, goes above and beyond in being overprotective to maintain its privacy.

Secret boyfriend!Bakugo, who diligently makes his way to your apartment every evening once his shifts conclude, ensures your time together is a cherished part of his routine.

Secret boyfriend!Bakugo, who secretly adores cuddling, finds solace in laying with his head nestled on your tummy or lap as you gently run your hand through his spiky hair.

Secret boyfriend!Bakugo, who cherishes intimate moments, savoring slow, vanilla sex with you. He holds you close, telling you how perfectly you fit around his thick, heavy cock.

Secret boyfriend!Bakugo, who adores your unique scent and warmth, reveling in it when he goes down on you. His head nestles between your thighs, and he delights in the sensation of your legs gently squeezing his head as he skillfully brings you to the brink of climax.

Secret boyfriend!Bakugo, who can't help but moan like a whore whenever you kiss his neck or hands, shivering under your gentle touches.

Secret boyfriend!Bakugo, who radiates pure happiness upon learning you're pregnant. He eagerly anticipates the sight of your belly growing round with the new life.

Secret boyfriend!Bakugo, who finally decides to make your relationship public when you're around halfway through your pregnancy, proudly sharing the joyous news with the world.

Secret boyfriend!Bakugo, who, during the press conference you both attended, tenderly holds his hand over your baby bump in a protective manner while answering the reporters' questions.

Broken Hill.

Eyes that hold the stars.

Tied up & Kneeling

There is a lot of tying up going on in their story so it only made sense ;)

Lofi Cali Girl - beats to relax/study to during the climate change apocalypse.

Kinktober Day 1- Oral Sex

warnings: m!receiving oral, stress relief, rough oral, throat fucking, mentioned AFAB reader

kinktober masterlist

main masterlist

Bradley Bradshaw was a simple man. He loved his wife, he loved his friends, and he loved to fly. Even the things you love can become overwhelming sometimes; too much to handle, but you were always there for him when he needed to be calmed down.

It was a rough day of training. He blinked for a second and Maverick got lock on him. He was already frustrated with himself, but the teasing from his teammates grated on him the entire day.

You knew he was home when you heard the slamming of the door, followed by heavy stomps of boots on the hardwood. He was shuffling around in the kitchen, and by the way he was opening and closing cabinets and drawers, you could tell he was frustrated.

You debated going out to greet him, but you figured it would be best to let him come to you when he was ready. You know how he gets sometimes, he may just need a little time alone.

The noise subsides and about five minutes later, your husband appears in the doorway of your bedroom, still in his khakis and boots.

"Hi, Bradley," you say, softer than usual.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says, voice gruff.

"Is everything okay?"

You sit up on the edge of the bed, looking soft and domestic in the warm lighting, surrounded by the messy blankets. Rooster starkly contrast you, looking imposing with his rigid posture in the shadow of the doorway.

"Rough day," he says plainly.

"I'm sorry, baby," you frown. "Is there anything I can do?"

He walks further into the room, over to the bed and positions himself between your open thighs. The way he looks down at you makes you feel small, and you dont bother resisting the urge to wrap your arms around his middle and push your face into his belly. He hugs you back, his big, calloused hands splayed across your shoulders. You hear Rooster let out a soft chuckle, which makes you smile into his shirt.

"Just this is good for me, honey," he says.

You continue to hold him, and after a few minutes, you start the feel the zipper of his pants pressing against you. You pull back and look up at him, only to find him already looking down at you with dark eyes.

"Brad?"

"Missed you so much," he says lowly.

You chew on your bottom lip, still looking up at him as he tries to subtly rock his hips against you. He moves his hand from your shoulder to your face, lifting your chin up towards him.

"Missed your pretty face... your sweet mouth."

"Do you want it?"

Bradley looks conflicted. He doesn't want to ask you to do that, but god does he want it.

"If you... wouldn't mind.?"

You give him a smile as you lean back to give yourself room to open the fly of his pants. He's straining against the zipper, and when you finally free him, he groans in relief.

His tip is wet and pre-cum drips down the side. You swipe your fingers through it, then spit in your hand to make the slide of your hand over his cock easier.

You lick the underside of his cock slowly as you hold the base. He lets out a heavy sigh as your hot, wet tongue drags over him. Bradley's hand slides into your hair at the base of your neck, holding but not pushing.

You inch down on his cock, taking his length into your mouth. He's big, the biggest you've ever had, and it took you a lot of practice to be able to take him all.

"So good, sweetheart. So fuckin' good for me."

Heat builds in your stomach at the praise. Leave it to Bradley to know just how to wind you up. Seeking out more, you relax your throat and take him further. Soon, you're nuzzling the hairs at the base of his cock and he's filling the air with curses.

"Baby, baby," he says, getting your attention. "Can I fuck your mouth?"

The swirling heat in your body makes your head spin, and you're nodding before you can even realize.

Bradley's other hand slides into your hair and he holds you still as he begins to slowly thrust into your mouth.

"Yeah, sweetheart, just stay still for me."

His eyebrows are pinched, both in pleasure and from the tension of the day that he so desperately wants to spill into your mouth.

Your hands grip his thighs, your fingers digging into the soft flesh of the relaxed muscle. Your husband rarely does this with you, but you don't think there's much else hotter than him taking what he wants.

"God, I'm close. Your mouth is so fuckin' good, baby. Feels so good on me. Love when you let me have you like this, look so pretty stuffed with my cock."

You know that when Bradley starts running his mouth, he's close. It takes a lot to get him to abandon his inhibitions, so get him close enough to the point where he doesn't feel embarrassed for telling vou want he really feels. You absolutely Iove it.

You swirl your tongue around him as much as you can, and suddenly you feel his hot cum pumping into your mouth. You swallow all of it, just how you know he likes, and he moans loudly as he rides out his orgasm.

Once he's finished, he pulls out and lets you catch your breath. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand and smile up at him, which he returns.

"Thank you so much, baby. I love you," he says as he brushes his fingers scratch at your scalp.

"You're welcome. I'm glad I could help a little."

"Oh sweetheart," Bradley smirks, playing with your bottom lip with his thumb. "We're not done yet. I still need to return the favor."

I am shocked that there's no Aizawa nsfw on here

(I was stalking your shi again lmao)

And I am also here to request Aizawa and a bratty reader because I need him🤲🏽

You are so right, he needs more love♡ Only the brattiest for Aizawa! I’m sorry you gotta see my brain rot on my page recently lmfao (BEEF) enjoy!

Aizawa x Brat! Fem! Reader

TW: Teasing • NSFW (M)(F) • Oral (M) • Soft Dom! • Semi! Public • Praise (good girl/kitty) • Cock Warming

“Shouta~♡” The lewd mewling noises on the other end of his cell phone are from none other than you.

He’s in the middle of a lesson, having answered your call out of urgency that something might’ve been wrong. Class was mere minutes from ending, so he didn’t hesitate to fish the cellular device from his slacks and answer.

“m’gonna cum—oh yes, Shouta!” The wet squelching noises on the other end of the line were vulgar, the likelihood of you shoving the phone close to your dripping cunt high so he could really listen. The class was none the wiser, working diligently towards their careers as future pro-heroes while he listened to essentially audio pornography of his wife coming. His face gave nothing away, stoic and bored looking as usual to avoid any suspecting glances up to the front at him. His nice dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, where his veins became prominent as he gripped the podium like it was his worst energy.

Your climax seemed to have been intense, your panting and soft mumbles might’ve been adorable in any other situation, but it wasn’t.

“That’s nice dear, come by the school after you’re finished at home. I have some papers to grade so I might be a while.” Those who weren’t close to him wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in tone, but you did. On the other line laying in bed with your vibrator still buzzing, you heard the fury.

It wasn’t meant to piss him off, it was meant to rile him up to come home early! “Sh-Shouta…” but he’d already hung up the phone. You grimaced, realizing your teasing had the opposite affect, but the way your pussy throbbed told a different story to how you really felt.

You were early, of course, greeting the upcoming students with your regular smiles and words in passing. All until the UA school classroom was deserted, for all but you and your pro-hero husband. He looked dashing, having combed his hair and worn a half suit for a meeting he’d had this morning, his appearance making you ravenous and eager to keep him home. You’d been denied of course, with a sigh and kiss to your forehead, as if it erased how needy you’d gotten.

Licking your lips nervously, you entered the classroom and closed the door with a click. Aizawa was sitting behind his desk, grading papers without looking up at you.

“Lock it.”

You obeyed, pouting your lip cutely in hopes his mood would improve since you’d adorned the cute sundress he said he loves so much.

To no avail. He actually leaves you standing there while still grading. A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells you it’s been almost ten minutes… “Shouta…” nothing. You’re made to stand for another ten as your own attitude starts to spark. Gripping your hands into fists, you intended to lay whine some more, before his head snapped up at you. Effectively shutting you up.

“Here.” He points to the floor with a no nonsense expression, tired dark eyes following you as you hustled into action. The way he was acting assured you he was pissed. No need to further antagonize. You quickly kneel, sure to arch your back and stick your chest out, because you knew after all exactly how he liked to see you. Despite the demure attitude you adorned, he was no fool and knew you still hadn’t learned any lessons.

A large warm palm softly cups your jaw, lifting your head to stare up at him. His handsome rugged face and slow forming smirk making your thighs clench in anticipation.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you kitty?” His fingers pinch together, making you open your mouth as he leans over you in his chair. “Moaning like that while you came, I guess you don’t need anymore today huh?” This has your attention, your rebuttal laughed at as he releases you. His hands traveling to his pants, fancy slacks you had bought for him being undone as he frees himself just enough to release his hard cock.

You briefly wonder if he intends to fuck you in the school of all places. “Shouta this is a school—,” “I know it is. You’d think that thought would’ve crossed your mind when you called me in the middle of class?” Your hypocrisy is quickly called out.

Aizawa pumps his cock a few times, before crooking his finger and curling it for you to move forward. Nervously you do, not ready to admit aloud how much this scenario turns you on.

“Here kitty kitty…” his eyes promise wicked intentions, and like the good pet you are, you slide yourself between his spread legs and stick your tongue out to lick the pearl of pre-cum off his tip. Shivering, you take the hint when he softly presses the back of your head down, taking him in your mouth and to the back of your throat like you’ve practiced so many times before.

“Ohh,” his deep low moan filling your chest with pride, but you realize quickly he’s not letting you slide back up.

Your forced to peak up at him, his lazy smirk and hooded eyes mocking as he looks back.

“Tap my thigh if you can breath and this isn’t uncomfortable.” Confusion washes over you, but you do as he says and tap, because you could breath, but it was odd having his cock in your mouth but not doing anything.

“Don’t move your tongue and don’t suck, you’re going to cock warm me while I work.” He doesn’t miss the startled look in your eye, but chooses to ignore it. “If you need a break, you tap my thigh twice. You can use your safe word after that if necessary.” Despite his anger and the situation, it warms you from the inside out that he’s always so careful to ensure you always have a way out if necessary.

So there you sit, leaning on your left hip and thigh on the cool floor while the sounds of Aizawa scribbling occasionally fill the room. It’s nearly lulling, the feeling of him inside your mouth, just resting as you lean into his lap. Soft brushes against your head and neck relax you further, and you lose track of time in the strange intimacy.

Every now and then, Aizawa allows you up for a break, letting you pant and close your jaw before filling your mouth again.

Finally, you hear him sigh, and watch as he leans back with his arms resting on his chair. You make eye contact, surprised he’s not the least bit frustrated or antsy to move. “Do you know what you did wrong?” You can only blink, clutching the fabric of his pants in your hands. He lets you up, a thick string of saliva keeping your warm mouth and his cock connected.

His pretty red and swollen tip glossy.

“Stand up.” You do, getting onto shaky feet after sitting on your legs so long. Your husband’s hands travel up your thighs, under your dress and to your underwear.

“Let’s see how you are here,” you gasp, as he cups your pussy through your underwear. “Hmm, I hardly touched you and you’re this wet? Do you like being a cocksleeve so much?” His words have you shaking, arousal nearly dripping into his palm as he chuckles.

“So responsive… step out,” he slides your underwear down, the expensive brand useless in favor of your actual pussy. When he’s got you naked from the waist down, he tugs you into his lap, letting you straddle him.

“You did good with your mouth, let’s see if you can be good here too.” You’re sinking down on his thick cock, moaning as you feel him stretch and fill you so much better than the vibrator you’d used this morning. “Ah~ fuck, Shouta,” he stills you when you try to bounce, whining as you grind down.

A sharp slap to your ass has you yelping.

“Good girls don’t take what isn’t given.” His stern tone makes you fully still, but it’s difficult with how good he feels inside you.

He makes you wait, and you realize in horror as you look back from his lap, that his desk is stacked with paperwork.

“Is that all… for tonight?”

A glance at his grin tells you it is.

“I’ve been backed up for a while now, lucky me you volunteered to keep me company while I work.”

“You can’t seriously—,” a grip to your throat hushes you, his expression showing you still haven’t been forgiven from your earlier transgressions.

“I do seriously intend to let you warm my cock the entire time, and you’re going to be good if you want to cum when I finish.”

You’d learn your lesson slowly, that’s the best way to teach a brat.

there is no truth in the promise of flowers

but there is certainly meaning in

the overwhelming weight of their absence.

Sinful Sunday: the thought of Bakugo just fingering you whilst you're on a loong journey somewhere is forever making itself prominent in my mind 🤤 he’s just rubbing at your clit and not letting you cum until he gives permission 😭

Oh my, darling! 😳 Thank you for your wonderfully sinful idea! I couldn't resist the urge to write a short fic about our explosive boy. I firmly believe he's an embodient of promiscuity 😏

SINFUL SUNDAY

The air inside the bus is unbearably hot and stale, and you rest your arm against the window, thankful for having a seat while others struggle to find standing room. As you make a stop, an elderly lady vacates the seat next to you, and in the blink of an eye, someone else takes her place. You don't pay much heed to my fellow passenger; instead, you gaze out the window, daydreaming about the refreshing coolness of tap water waiting for you at home, just another fifty minutes away.

The heat is becoming a bit too much for you, and you're keen to avoid breaking a sweat. Thankfully, you just now notice that the upper part of the bus window is adjustable. As soon as this realization dawns on you, you extend your hand to grasp the handle.

Suddenly, an arm shoots up from the seat beside you. "Here, let me help with that," the man sitting next to you offers, and with a single, determined pull, he manages to open the stubborn window, allowing the refreshing breeze to caress your face.

"Thank you," you gratefully respond.

You stare at him, finally registering his features. His intense, crimson-red eyes are piercing and reflect his determination and strong-willed nature. He boasts a well-defined, muscular physique. His ash blond hair, spiky and untamed, adds to his demeanor.

Your eyes widen as he begins to lazily and casually stroke your thigh, his fingers coaxing the fabric of your summer dress upward beneath his touch. Swiftly, you reach down, attempting to push his hand away or, at the very least, halt its progress. However, he persists, increasing the pressure when you make an effort to remove his hand. "Could you please stop that?" You whisper, frustration evident in your tone, but his smile remains unyielding.

Finally, his hand comes to rest on the bare skin of your thigh. "Don't make a scene over nothing, dear," he retorts, a light chuckle escaping his lips. The unsettling innocence in his tone causes you to recoil at the endearment. "My only intention is to bring us both comfort. Isn't this heat insufferable? Allow me to help ya, dumbass."

His words come deliberately, almost tauntingly, and you surprise yourself by listening intently, though your trust in him remains guarded. As he speaks, his damned hand inches up your thigh, his fingertips lightly grazing the edge of your lacy panties. On pure instinct, you squeeze your legs together, determined to thwart his advances. The realization suddenly strikes you that you're in a public place, and the thought of anyone witnessing his inappropriate touch sends a surge of panic mingled with a glimmer of hope coursing through me. You dart your gaze around, scanning the surroundings, only to be met with a sea of oblivious backs.

"Don't fret, dumbass," the man seated beside you soothes, his touch persisting against your panties. "No one will take notice. We're way at the back of the bus, and I'm a pro hero, so you're safe."

You can't help but scoff at his claim of being a pro hero, considering the situation. "You're a pro hero, huh?" You retort with a skeptical edge in your voice, your resistance to his advances growing stronger. "Some hero you are, causing trouble like this in public."

He chuckles lowly, a condescending smile playing on his lips as he leaned in closer. "You must be quite the idiot or completely out of touch with media if you don't recognize Bakugo Katsuki himself," he quips, his tone dripping with smugness as he stretches his back a little.

Only then you realize who he truly is, and blush creeps on your cheeks. "Shit."

You catch your breath, a hushed gasp escaping you as you feel his calloused hand slip beneath your panties, his middle finger immediately finding its way to your clit. Your fingers clasp around his arm, trembling as you vigorously shake your head.

He winks and continues to explore between your legs, his fingers insistent as they glide along your already slick folds.

His caresses gradually transform into determined rubbing, and your stomach churns with embarrassment as you become acutely aware of your body's response. You're growing increasingly aroused, a fact that only heightens your internal turmoil.

"You look quite cute when you blush," he murmurs. His middle finger presses against your entrance, and all you can do is gasp.

With slow determination, Bakugo pushes his finger into you, whispering warmly, "Enjoy it, little girl. Let me make you feel good."

A violent shiver of pleasure runs through your body when he reaches inside you, struggling against your tight, resisting pussy and building his strokes into a tauntingly slow pace.

His finger moves with attentiveness that is almost kind, with each stroke pressing a little deeper, exploring his prize. You focus on the waves of warm, pure ecstasy that travel through your unwilling body, and you feel ashamed and weak. A second finger joins the first, and without delay, a third finger follows suit, causing his thrusts to become painful. You let out an uncomfortable whimper, trying to wiggle away from his touch.

"That's right," Katsuki says hungrily, his breathing heavier than before. He slides closer to you, his body presses against yours, trapping you between the window and him. His hand is picking up pace, rocking your lower body, stretching your little pussy painfully as he thrusts his thick fingers into your cunny.

You whimper weakly and his breath brushes against your face when he says, "Look at me, doll. I want you to look at me."

You open your eyes. Bakugo's face is awfully close to yours now, and you feel frightened of the greedy lustful glint in his eyes as he licks his lips. The awful reality of the scandalous scene hits you again as you stare at his handsome face while his hand pounds into your dripping pussy. You become aware of the quiet wet sounds coming from down there, and you steal a glance down at your pussy and almost cry out as at the same time he presses his thumb masterfully on your swollen clit.

Your body starts to shiver with new unfamiliar but amazing waves of pleasure, and you feel something quickly building up inside you, waiting to be released with unbearable urgency. What would have been a moan is muffled by pro hero's lips when you're nearing your orgasm.

His skillful tongue is exploring your mouth as he retreats his hand befre you can reach your climax.

You gaps loudly as he breaks the kiss. "W-What… Why did you…"

"Stop?" He grinns at you, bringing his digits to his lips to lick them clean. "I thought you weren't thrilled with my little stunt? And let me tell ya, dumbass, you're fucking delicious," Bakugo quipped, rising from his seat. "Anyhow, this is my stop. Until tomorrow, doll."

As the bus came to a halt, he departed without a single backward glance in your direction.

You're acutely aware that you board this bus nearly every day to commute back home from work.

Disillusioned

Summary: Every time I tried to take a step closer, he took a step back. Falling in love with Bucky Barnes was easy, but the distance he kept between us was torture.

Pairing: Bucky x female!Reader

Genre: Angst, happy ending(?)

Warnings: Smut! And minor character death

Length: 3.5k

A/N: My love for Bucky/Sebastian Stan has inspired me to write again 💕 Enjoy (I hope)!

He was having a nightmare.

Bucky didn't often agree to stay the night - I suspected this was part of the reason why. I woke up to sounds of grunting and the loud grinding of his jaw, my bleary eyes adjusting to the view in front of me.

Moonlight illuminated his profile, his eyes shut and brow furrowed, a thin sheen of sweat on his face. He was still asleep, his fists clenching the sheets as I slowly extended a hand.

"Bucky," I whispered, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat, touching his naked shoulder gingerly. "Bucky," I repeated louder.

He stirred then, eyes snapping open. He almost looked shocked to see me in bed with him, as if he'd forgotten where he was. He pushed himself to sit upright with a sharp inhale, jaw still clenched.

"Are you okay?" I asked, propping myself up with one elbow, concern laced through my voice despite the exhaustion.

"M'fine," Bucky replied in a tone that told me he was most definitely not fine. He wasn't even looking at me, his blue eyes looking at the wall, distant, as if he was recalling an unpleasant memory. Or as if he just didn't want to look at my face. "I gotta go."

"Now?" I glanced at my alarm clock. It wasn't even 4am.

"Yeah." Bucky stood up, and I blushed despite myself at his naked form. My cheeks burned further as I recalled the particularly heated session we had just a few hours ago, both of us collapsing into a sweaty mess. I had whispered a Please, can you stay? to him before I was lulled into sleep, surprised when he had simply grunted and stayed by my side.

"Wait, Bucky - " I reached out instinctively and held onto his right hand, which felt colder than his vibranium one when he almost instantly snatched it away. I faltered, biting down onto my lower lip. "Can we - what's the rush?"

This happened all the time. Whenever I was lucky enough to have Bucky fall asleep by my side, more often than not, he would wake up from the nightmares and just leave, no matter what the hour was. We had never even slept through a sunrise together.

"I have things to do," was his response, his eyes never once meeting mine.

I clutched the sheets against my torso, feeling the all-too familiar cold, creeping feeling in my chest. That feeling of rejection, the feeling of unhappiness when I remembered that Bucky and I weren't really anything, not really. Not quite friends, not quite lovers, and definitely not a couple. He had made that clear.

"Can we just talk for five minutes?" I asked quietly as Bucky hurried to get dressed, his clothes flung haphazardly around my bedroom.

"About what?"

Anything, I wanted to scream. What do you call it when you are so unbelievably in love with someone, so desperate to keep them in your life that you are willing to just be someone that they came to whenever they wanted some casual company, a warm body, some fun? The word I was searching for was "pathetic", probably.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmares?" I asked, picking my nails nervously. I watched as Bucky paused pulling on his shirt for just a millisecond, almost as if he was caught off guard by my query.

"I don't talk about them," Bucky said after a moment, shaking his head.

"Don't you think you might feel better if you -"

"Look," Bucky said sharply, turning to face me. His stern expression softened ever so slightly at the sight of my face, which no doubt looked as torn and pitiful as I felt in that moment. I knew that I had no place to act as if I could help him in any way - what could I possibly do for him?

Bucky's lips formed a tight smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I appreciate the concern. But there's nothing you can do to help me."

Right. Just as I thought.

For some reason, this statement almost made me want to cry. It was another subtle reminder of that tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, I had some small weighting to Bucky's life. Maybe I wasn't just a girl that Bucky came to when he wanted to let off some steam. A spark that was always being snuffed out like a candle.

Bucky left quietly and without so much as a goodbye. The room felt so much emptier without him in it.

------ x ------

Sometimes, I felt that Bucky might genuinely care for me.

Whenever he came to see me, it wasn't always just sex. Sometimes we would spend time together doing things like a normal couple might do - he would help me with random errands, have dinner with me, sometimes even tell me stories from his past, a glimpse into his history.

But it was hot and cold with him. Whenever I dared to let myself believe that Bucky was opening up to me, he would suddenly slam the door shut and leave me out in the cold again.

Bucky Barnes made me weak. I was so willing to give my heart to this man who didn't even know what to do with it.

We were in my apartment on a Sunday afternoon as he tinkered about with the plumbing in my bathroom, offering to help me fix it when he saw that it was leaking. I watched with a small smile on my face as I handed him various tools, watching his face scrunched up in concentration.

My phone lit-up, chiming suddenly with six consecutive notifications. Bucky saw my grimace as I glanced at the screen and switched it to silent.

"What's that?" He asked, grunting as he inspected the bathroom pipes, turning his back to me.

"Um." I paused, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. "This guy that my sister is trying to set me up with. She gave him my number and he's been pestering me." I tried to keep my voice light hearted, but the words fell out like lead. My statement was true, but I couldn't care less about this guy - I couldn't even remember his name. I was just playing the childish tactic of trying to make Bucky feel jealous.

Bucky's hands stilled, just for a second, before they resumed their movement. He couldn't have sounded less interested if he tried when he responded, "Give it a go."

I blinked, my gut twisting.

"What?"

Bucky shrugged. "Maybe dating someone will do you some good."

My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I didn't know why I was always so keen to self-inflict this pain. It was as if I needed to constantly remind myself that Bucky just didn't want me in that way, until I would get the message.

"Yeah. Maybe."

------ x ------

When Bucky fucked me that night, he held me tighter than usual.

His forehead pressed against mine, our lips pressed together in an angry kiss, his tongue wet and hot in my mouth. He thrust inside me again and again and again, hips snapping as his hands circled themselves around my wrists, holding them above my head.

His mouth opened and he gasped, my back arching with pleasure as his cock continued to slide in and out of me, searching for release.

He came inside me with a moan, his mouth latching onto my neck to leave a hickey, marking my skin, his chest shuddering on top of mine as he came down from his high.

As usual, he left shortly after despite my quiet request for him to stay.

------ x ------

When my friends asked me how I would be spending my birthday, I lied and said I just wanted to spend it alone. Alone with Bucky.

I was delighted when I asked Bucky if he would have dinner with me on my birthday. He nodded and promised he would be there.

I sat in my apartment, clothed in a little red dress that I was sure Bucky would like. I was bouncing on my feet in excitement when he finally knocked on the door, and I beamed at him when I answered.

He was dressed in dark jeans, navy shirt and my favourite leather jacket of his. He looked me up and down, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile.

"You look pretty," he said unexpectedly, his voice sincere.

I blushed, my cheeks on fire. "Thank you."

This was exactly how I wanted to spend my day. With Bucky, having dinner in a tiny little French restaurant that we had both discovered one day months ago, walking along the river afterwards as the sun set. I wanted to hold his hand so much, wanted to cling onto his arm, but I knew better than to do so.

"I need to tell you something," Bucky said solemnly as I smiled. I felt so unbelievably happy with him in this moment. This was one of those moments I managed to tell myself that I could accept being his not-quite-a-lover-and-not-quite-a-friend as long as he was by my side.

"What is it?" My smile faded slowly as he met my eyes, his expression stoic.

"I want you to be happy," he said carefully. "You deserve it." The words hung in the air as I waited for him to continue, not even daring to guess what he really wanted to say. "I know how you feel about me."

"How do I feel about you?" I challenged softly. I had never said the words out loud, but I knew that he knew. I just wanted to hear him say it.

"I know you love me," he said after a long pause. The sound of the water filled the silence as I looked at him, unsure of what he would say next. "I want you to be happy, but you know I can't give that to you."

There was a long, strained silence. "Why not?" I asked, my chest tightening. I knew I was being stupid, pathetic even, just by asking the question. "You never even gave us a chance."

I don't deserve one.

"You knew from the beginning that this could never be anything more than what it is," Bucky said, his tone gentle but his eyes hard.

"Why?" I repeated, frustration bubbling.

"Because I don't do relationships," Bucky retorted, voice now sharp. His words stuck themselves into me like needles. "I want you to be happy, really. Truly. But I can't give you a happy ending."

Why did it feel like he was breaking up with me when there was no relationship to break in the first place?

"So now what?" I whispered, trying desperately not to cry. Not in front of him, please. I wanted to know if he ever felt anything for me. I wanted to know if there was ever a time where he might have considered loving me back.

"I'll be leaving the city tomorrow. For good."

I had no right to ask him to stay. Bucky Barnes was his own person, and he would do what he wanted to. I was inconsequential, a nothing. I had let myself become so caught up in this fantasy and my stupid hope, setting myself up for failure.

"Okay."

------ x ------

Love was such a fucking trap. Bucky had tried the whole dating thing in the past, naively thinking that maybe, he could actually find someone and get a taste of normalcy. Before he met her, he had dated a few different girls, but something never felt quite right.

And then she exploded into his life, all smiles and positivity and everything that Bucky might actually need and want.

It fucking terrified him.

He fell in love so quickly with her. It felt so easy, so right. But as soon as he made that realisation, he also knew - love was dangerous. She was so delicate, so trusting, Bucky felt like he wanted to be around her to protect her always.

But having her meant that she would always be in danger. There would always be a threat, lying dormant, until one day something would happen to her. As long as Bucky cared about her, she would always be something to lose.

Sam said he was being dumb. That he was hurting her by teasing her with Bucky's presence and yet always being just out of her reach.

Bucky was selfish. He just didn't want to let her go, even if it meant that every time she took a step forward, he would take a step back and watch her heart get crushed.

But it wasn't sustainable. He knew he had to bite the bullet and leave eventually.

He just told himself that he would do it the day after. Or the day after. Or the day after that.

He just always wanted one more day with her.

------ x ------

Bucky had left two months ago.

Those two months passed by like my own personal hell. The calls left unanswered, the texts left unread. I felt so pathetic as I stared at our WhatsApp conversation, my words being fired off despite telling myself that I shouldn't.

Wed 7 Dec - How are you?

Fri 9 Dec - Where are you right now? Thinking about you.

Mon 19 Dec - I know you won't answer. I don't even know why I bother you text you these. I just want to know if I ever meant anything to you.

Sat 24 Dec - I think I was so stupid to love you.

I don't know what else I expected. He was the famous Bucky Barnes, one of Earth's mightiest heroes. He was busy saving lives and doing dangerous shit, and I was - what? Some random girl who just happened to be there at one point in his life. If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else who had ended up as his fuck-buddy.

The realisation was heart-wrenching. He could easily take off and leave, never answer the phone or my messages, because I was never anything important to him. He could write me out of his life, because I was just a page in his novel. To be forgotten about.

------ x ------

I heard about Sam's death half a year after Bucky had left.

It was plastered across the newspaper headlines. Sam had been killed on a mission in Siberia, a mission headed by himself and Bucky. The moment I heard the breaking news on the radio, my heart stopped, the grief threatening to crush me.

There was a public memorial in Washington, D.C., near the National Mall. I attended alone, travelling there alongside hundreds of thousands of other people, strangers, all wishing to pay their respects to the Falcon.

I didn't expect to see him there. I was so confident that he would be mourning him privately, away from the public eye, away from all the people.

I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the dark figure leaning against the passenger side of my door, cap on his head, leather gloves tight around his hands. I didn't even need to meet his eyes to know it was him.

There were no words exchanged. He got into my car silently as I did the same, barely daring to breathe lest he suddenly dissipate into the air like an illusion, as I was convinced he couldn't be real.

It wasn't until we got back to my hotel that he snapped. The door closed and he was there, crumpling into my arms, his own wrapped around me tightly, his face buried into my shoulder.

His tears wet my skin, ragged breathing loud and in agony.

"I'm so sorry," he moaned in a pained voice, his arms squeezing me so hard that I could barely breathe. "I am so sorry."

"Bucky," I whispered, feeling his warmth against me as I finally dared to accept that he was really here. He was really, truly here. "I got you. It's okay."

"No," he gasped, his tears soaking my shirt. I had never seen him cry before, and the vulnerability broke my heart. "I can't lose you too. I can't lose you."

His knees buckled, dragging me onto the floor with him as he cried, his arms never once letting go of me. My hands lifted to stroke his hair as his chest heaved with painful sobs.

This was the sound of a broken man. The sound of someone who had lost Steve, and now Sam, and the floodgates had finally broke.

He lifted his head to look at me, eyes bloodshot and his hands raised to cradle my face. I felt so overwhelmed by all the emotions in my heart - grief, confusion, love, relief, sadness. Everything all at once, crushing my ability to think straight. Everything felt surreal, happening at a pace that I couldn't keep up with.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered. "I wanted to keep you safe, wanted to keep you - keep you alive, want you to have a normal life, and I ruined everything. I ruined everything." The words streamed out nonsensically to me. "I had to leave, had to go before things got too bad, but I was so stupid. Being so fucking stupid. I can't lose you too. I can't lose you."

"James, breathe," I said gently, staring back at him and trying not to reveal just how worried and perplexed I was.

"You knew, right? You had to know how I felt about you, deep down," Bucky asked, pleading. I didn't answer as he continued to sob - I simply held him, letting him cry against me.

------ x ------

Nightfall came, and Bucky had quietened. You were both lying on the bed, fully clothed, his hand clutching yours tightly. The feeling felt unfamiliar and right at the same time.

"I have always loved you," Bucky said quietly, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

My breath hitched. He's lying, the voice of doubt said, loudly and clearly in your mind.

"I fell in love with you. How could not?" He continued, his voice pained. "But it terrified me. The feeling of being in love, of having something to lose. The knowledge that I am what I am - someone with a history, with blood on my hands, knowing I've done unspeakable things that I am so afraid for you to find out about."

I turned my head to look at him, not quite daring to believe what he was saying.

"You have no idea." He looked at me finally, his eyes still wet and tortured. "I wanted to let you know how much I loved you. I wanted to be happy with you. But I couldn't."

"Bucky..."

"But I'm tired of running away," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Leaving you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I don't think I can survive without you." He laughed suddenly, humorlessly. "Is that selfish?"

"No," I replied instantly. My stomach swirled, and I knew he could see the doubt in my eyes with just one look.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

I remained silent for a long minute before I finally answered. "I just don't understand how you could love me."

I flinched at the rage that flashed across his face. Not quite anger at me, I realised, but fury at himself.

"I made you think that I didn't love you back," he said tersely, fists balling up. "And I will never forgive myself for that. I was playing hero but actually I was just being stubborn. Being so unbelievably stupid."

He rolled over to position himself on top of me suddenly, eyes fixed on mine. He propped himself up above me with his hands on either side of my head, eyes pleading.

"When I met you, I had no idea I could feel this way for anyone. The way you smiled at me, the way you understood me, the way you made me laugh and the way you cared. When you fell in love with me, I could feel it. I felt so special to be the one you chose.

I told myself that I couldn't let you in. I couldn't let it get too far. I couldn't tell you about myself, about my childhood, about the terrible things I've done, about the good things I've done, about the hopes and dreams I had for the future. I told myself that if I let you in, it would be too real. You would be someone that I could lose, and if i lost you, it would kill me."

"So you would rather just leave me?" I whispered, my eyes welling up at the memory of the long six months I'd endured without him.

"I thought I was keeping you safe," he replied, eyes closing briefly as he gritted his teeth.

"You broke my heart," I said simply. The statement wasn't made to hurt him, but rather just a declaration of the truth.

"I don't know what to do," Bucky said, shaking his head as his eyes revealed the conflict in his mind. "I don't want to be apart from you anymore. But I don't want to risk putting you in danger. As long as you're with me, you will always be in danger. I don't know what to do," he repeated, looking so anguished that I wanted to cry all over again.

"Please just stay," I pleaded. "Please stay with me."

Bucky kissed you finally, his chapped lips against yours, melting into you as soon as they met. He sighed shakily, as if he was finally home after a long day.

"I'll stay. I'll protect you with everything I have. I promise."