Most men with a sense of style know not to match brown shoes with black belts, a pre-tied bowtie or pyjamas in public. I remember my father once mentioning that the only glass a man loves to keep clean is the glass of his watch. When it comes to wearing watches people don’t really care about the rules. On many occasions you will discover men wearing completely inappropriate timepieces to their outfits. Being aware about some watch etiquette will save you from embarrassment, no matter how expensive, casual or formal the occasion is. Younger gentlemen will eventually begin to appreciate the meaning of classic—–an item that stands the test of time. At some point, these maritime gauges that so many of us wear look like what you’d expect to see on the QEII or Queen Mary or a cargo ship. The will fade out of vogue and when they do, you will be able to cover the succeeding watch with the cuff of your shirt and jacket sleeve.
1. Match your metals & colors Try and match the metals and the colors of the watch to the rest of the outfit you have on. Note the color of your belt buckles, shoe buckles, rings, collar bars or pins, and cufflinks and choose a watch in a matching metal. Wear yellow gold with yellow gold, and don’t wear a brown band when you’re wearing a black suit. Focus specifically on the boldest parts of the watch; the color of the strap, the color of metal and even the color of the dial.
2. Don’t wear the same watch every day Even if you only own one nice watch, you shouldn’t wear it every day for several reasons. First, if the watch is a piece that you love, giving the watch a break will make it last longer. Second, one watch is rarely suited to the variety of outfits that a man will wear in a given week. The office, the gym, sporting events, dinners out, and parties all require different clothes and hence different watches. If you wear the same watch daily, chances are that 20-30% of the time it is the wrong watch to be wearing. Regardless of your budget, if you love wearing a watch, try building up a small collection of reputable watches that suit all the various needs you have during the week, and give you favorite piece the occasional break.
3. Skip the bling Wearing a diamond encrusted watch is fine if you’re a music mogul, but it has no place in the wardrobe of a well-dressed gentleman. Like an oversized watch, flashy diamonds and jewels are simply a cry for attention. They will distract from the rest of your outfit by drawing all the attention to one point. Most people will be wondering if it’s real, rather than what kind of watch it is. Diamonds and jewels also have the effect of making men’s watches appear more feminine. Unless you’re trying to be the next Eminem, skip the diamonds – with one exception. Some dress watches use very fine diamonds or other stones to accent small details, such as the rim of the dial or the numbers on the face. If the stones are subtle and enhance the overall features of the watch without being ostentatious, then they can find a place in a gentleman’s watch collection. Just remember to wear them in appropriate settings and don’t buy sporting watches, as diamonds are not suited to more casual watches. Finally, it should go without saying that you should never buy a watch with fake stones. If you can’t afford the real thing, skip stones altogether, as they will only cheapen the overall look and make it painfully obvious that you seek the kind of attention diamonds can bring.
4. Wear your watch on the wrist that suits you The old rule of thumb was to always wear a watch on the non-dominant wrist. The reasoning was that it is the opposite of the dominant hand. Don’t let tradition dictate on which hand you wear your watch; wear it where you find it most comfortable. Like any other garment or accessory, your watch should fit you properly in two key ways. The size of the dial should be proportional to your wrist, and the band should fit snugly but comfortably. A loose band looks sloppy, so take it to your jeweler to have it sized to your wrist.
5. Admire other men’s watches from a distance Just as you would never touch another man’s wallet, don’t expect to handle his watch. For many men the watch is the only piece of jewelry they own or wear, and they take great pride in keeping it dust free, fingerprint free and well polished. It’s perfectly okay to politely ask to see a watch, but don’t expect him to take it off his wrist. If he offers, feel free to accept, but try to handle it as little as possible and never place it on a hard surface where it could get scratched.
6. Pair watches with outfits appropriately Just as you wouldn’t sit on the beach in a morning coat, you also don’t want to wear your dress watch sailing. Try and match the type of watch you wear to the activity you’re involved in each day. If you’re unsure what you’ll be doing, pair it with your choice of clothes; sport watches with athletic wear, dress watches with business wear, or a simple Seven Friday with beach wear. If you’re invited to a formal event or gathering and the dress code calls for black tie, attitudes have changed about wearing a watch. Historically it is considered impolite to wear a watch, but the rules regarding black tie have softened to accommodate wearing a simple dress watch with a black face and band if you choose. A pocket watch like U-boat or Bomberg is an alternative. For the rare white tie event, tradition demands that you do not wear a watch at all.
7. Beware the implications of checking your watch Even though a great watch is one of a man’s ultimate accessories, checking it can have some negative social implications even if that’s exactly the reason you are wearing it! If you’re on a date, in a meeting, or at a social event, don’t check your watch visibly in front of other people. Just like it’s rude to check your phone at a movie or restaurant, checking your watch shows that you have other things on your mind; things that take precedence over your present company. Unless you’re still young and have a curfew, the only way you should know what time a date is over is when she says goodnight.
8. Wear dark with dark, and light with light If you’re out during the day consider a lighter colored face such as white or cream. However, at night focus on darker dials such as black, grey or browns. Just like a tuxedo is for evening wear and you wouldn’t wear it to brunch, a dark watch dial should be on your wrist at night, rather than during your 9am tee time at the country club.
9. Never wear a dive watch with a suit Just because James Bond did it, doesn’t mean you should. James Bond was a spy who might, in fact, jump into a river in a suit at any moment. As far as we can tell, he’s the only one (besides other actors with endorsement deals with Omega) who should wear a dive watch with a suit. Dive watches are bulky, they don’t fit well under a suit jacketand they are a tell-tale sign that you don’t know the rules of watch-wearing…or that you aspire to have your own theme song. The same way that you wouldn’t wear your sunglasses at night, leave the dive watch for casual wear and pair a simple dress watch with your suit.
10. The oversized watch is over For the last couple of years, oversized watches have become the norm in men’s style. This popular trend only served one purpose: to scream for attention. An oversized watch dwarfs your wrist, throws off the proportions of your entire outfit, and simply doesn’t “fit” well into a nicely combined outfit. For a watch enthusiast, those large dials are nothing more than for show. If you want to be taken seriously in the world of horology, stick to watches that fit your wrist.
“one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other”
AN: You know what this one seems perfect for? Undercover dating, aka a trope I live for xD
Thanks for the prompt, Madina <3
Nesta wasn’t prepared for this.
barely a brush of Cassian’s firm lips against her own, accompanied by a
hint of his scent hitting her nostrils and a calloused curve of his
hand cupping her jaw.
It’s barely a brush but Nesta knows she’s in trouble, knows that she shouldn’t clutch at his jacket so tightly and her breath shouldn’t get caught in her throat like that, as if they’re kissing for the very first time and she’s slightly surprised by how good it feels, not when they’re supposed to have been dating for good few weeks now.
At least that’s the story.
Goddamn undercover work. Definitely not her thing. All that acting and subtlety and people skills it requires - not her cup of tea.
Nesta knows computers. Understands computers. Codes and algorithms and research that - bless the internet gods - don’t require actual human interaction.
That whole undercover business, on the other hand, is a freaking mess, that’s what it is - and worst of all, Nesta knew it would be and still went for it.
When, months after having gone completely AWOL, Feyre came back home with a new boyfriend at her side (and two suspicious-looking men at his side) and asked for her and Elain’s help, Nesta should’ve said no.
Alas, she was too pragmatic to refuse the promise of financial security for her sister as well as herself. Not after their useless father had gambled away the last of her mother’s inheritance money.
So naturally, when Feyre and Rhysand divulged details of their insane plan to steal away “Book of Breathings” - long-lost painting that had just found its way into the private collection of Kingston Hybern, Norwegian billionaire, Nesta could only sigh deeply and grit out her assent.
All while ignoring one of Rhysand’s oversized friends and his watchful gaze fixed on her at all times.
Cassian. Cassian was his name as she later learnt. Few days after that, she also found out exactly how hard his nose was when it collided with her fist (very hard and not at all good for her knuckles - you played yourself, Nesta).
And then, Feyre dropped the undercover bomb. As in her - Nesta - and him - Cassian - going undercover as a dating functioning couple of consenting adults to get access and do recon of Hybern’s Spanish villa where the painting was kept.
Her - a young spoiled heiress. Him - her current flavour of the month.
Did she mention they would have to pretend to - oh shocker! - like each other?
Feyre certainly hadn’t thought this through.
Although right about now - as they’re dancing at Hybern’s party, their mouths only inches away - Nesta realizes - with no small amount of chagrin - that’s it’s not that hard to pretend after all.
Her skin still tingles where his lips grazed hers, and she can’t help but pull away and look at his face, her eyes searching, inquiring.
What just happened?
Why did it feel so good?
Cassian seems as lost as she is but only for a slow excruciating moment. And then -
Something just clicks and they’re kissing again but this time…Oh, this time, it’s consuming and hungry and carnal - his tongue swirling along her teeth, her nails digging into his shirt, his thumbs pressing into her hipbones, drawing her closer.
Request: Hi! Can you do a Barry x Reader where he and the reader (his wife) has a teenage son and he loves him a lot and the son is really well-behaved & big nerd like his daddy but he starts acting strange & the reader finds out that he’s scared to tell his dad that he has a boyfriend, who happens to be Captain Cold’s son and she convinces him to tell Barry - who knew his son was gay the whole time? I need to see Barry’s parenting skills! 😉⚡😊⚡☺⚡😀
a/n: ahhhhh daddy barry
“Come on, sweetie. You need to tell your father. This is a big thing.” you whisper, rubbing your son’s shoulder comfortingly. He inhales deeply, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose before letting you lead him into Barry’s study. “I’m right here, Tyler.” you remind him softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Babe?”
Barry whips his head around, marker halfway to the whiteboard. A grin appears on his face, stretching his brown scruff on his upper lip. “Hey honey, hey bud! What’s up?” he questions, capping the dry erase marker before spinning. His socked feet pad on the floor and he repositions himself in front of his desk, leaning back. “What’s up? Kinda freakin’ me out with the silence.” he repeats, crossing his arms over his magenta sweater, eyes darting between the two of you.
You nudge Tyler, nodding your head at you husband; light blue sleep shirt dropping off your shoulder. “Dad, I have something to tell you.” he tenses, raising his arms to wrap around his waist protectively. Barry frowns, green eyes flooding with worry as he straightens his upper body, fingers clutching his bicep. “I’m gay.” Tyler confesses, cringing, dark brown hair covering his blue orbs.
There’s a shine in the speedster’s mossy green eyes that you know all too well. “Barry…” you warn, tilting your head forward. Tyler gulps, playing with his black oversized hoodie, watching his dad in anticipation.
“Hi gay, I’m da- okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Ow!” he quickly saves himself as you whack his upper chest. Tyler snorts at the scene, readjusting his glasses. Watching The Flash get beat up by your mom? Priceless. Barry huffs, nose twitching slightly. “Geez, I try to crack a joke…” he trails off, pushing himself off the desk and walking towards his son. “Ty…” he puts his hands on his son’s shoulders, bending down. “I’ve known. I’m your dad, I know things, contrary to common belief… Plus, I saw you with Michal a few months ago. I didn’t say anything because I wanted you to be ready.”
Tyler smiles, “So, you aren’t mad?”
Barry shakes his head, flashing a grin. “Never. I’m so happy you came out to me.” he mumbles, hugging his son, “Does his dad know too?” Tyler nods. “Good, explaining that to Snart…would be interesting.” he huffs as he lets go.
“Thanks dad, mom! I love you!” Tyler exclaims, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “I’m gonna go text Mike!” he beams, heading towards the staircase.
“Wait, TY!” Barry calls, making his son stop, peering back. “While you’re upstairs, tell Joey to come down here. He’s in big trouble with daddy.” Tyler nods, climbing up the stairs and yelling for his younger brother. You raise an eyebrow at your husband, who rubs the bridge of his nose. “He flushed my contacts,” he makes the up and down motion with his finger, “Down the toilet. So I have none for tomorrow.” he sighs.
Joey hops down the stairs in his kangaroo onesie, “Yeah, daddy?”
“Joey, what have we talked about touching daddy’s things?” Barry scolds the four year old. This is gonna take a while…
My kingdom for Bernie showing up to Serena’s house a couple of hours after work, after Serena’s checked that she’ll still come around later though?
And Serena’s just home, just through a shower, and stands in the doorframe with damp hair and house socks and an oversized sweater; watching Bernie ramble about buying two different kinds of takeout. All the stuff from the Thai place she likes, and pizza (no pineapple on half) if she wants something else. She’s shuffling her sneakered feet and tripping over her explanations, tells her she can whip something up in the kitchen if neither appeals (Serena snorts at that, Bernie’s a horrendous cook); a cautious and polite and bubbling smile - because she’s so desperately happy to be there.
And when Serena doesn’t say anything, Bernie gestures back towards her car with a jerk of her head (or I can go?) and starts to turn away when Serena catches her by the sleeve of her coat, steps down to her height, kisses her.
I love you, she says, kisses her again (again) - firm and sure, with her hand beneath the waist of Bernie’s coat; a tender smile stretching when Bernie mumbles that she loves her too. Come inside.
Please imagine Dean and Cas sitting on Dean’s bed in boxer shorts and oversize band t-shirts watching cartoons and cuddling at 3:00 in the morning, Cas’s wing draped protectively around Dean’s shoulder, because Dean woke up from a nightmare and Cas didn’t want to leave him alone.
Imagine the soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate will say to you is tattooed on your wrist, but Person A’s tattoo is something completely ridiculous or nonsensical.
It could have been the twelfth interview, but still, Lena knew the question she was going to get no matter how hard she laid on the charm and steered the conversation toward her own accomplishments and hopes in moving to National City. An entire day of press, she’d told herself, and then hopefully no more. What was the worst that could happen?
From an anonymous request. Major fluff warning ahead. As in, extra syrup on your pancakes.
Admittedly, interviews weren’t Chris’ favourite thing but after this many years in the business, he could usually deal with them with a fair amount of patience and grace. They were just one of the less desirable aspects of the job, and he got over that a long time ago. However, just lately, he’d found his patience wearing a little thin, and again, today, he could feel that tell-tale frustration bubbling up inside him as he sat in front of this latest interviewer. If the man-bun, hoop earring, and skin tight jeans with ripped knees weren’t enough, the guy was British and kept calling him ‘mate’: it was taking all of Chris’ self control to not roll his eyes at him. Then he was getting frustrated at himself! When did he get so old and grumpy?!
Chris was about to mentally shake off this mood and attempt to be a little more friendly and open. But then came the line of questioning Chris definitely had little to zero patience for, even at the best of times.
‘So, I have to ask you, mate, how does it feel being engaged to the most beautiful woman in the world? And that’s been made official, by many magazines, many times by the way,’ the interviewer laughed at himself. As if Chris wasn’t aware of how many magazines ‘honoured’ his wife-to-be with the top spot on their 'Hottest Woman in the World’ lists.
Chris took a deep breath. Internally.
'It’s… well, I obviously know how beautiful she is so it really just confirms everything I already know. In her line of work, that sort of attention comes with the territory, especially when she walks for Victoria’s Secret. But, you know, all the hottest woman lists in the world don’t show how funny, intelligent, compassionate she is, or what a positive presence she is in my life and the lives of everyone who has the pleasure of knowing her.’
'So you managed to bag the whole package then? Does she have a sister you could talk to for me,’ he actually winked as he said this, before laughing loudly as his own joke. Again.
Chris forced a smile and a few hollow chuckles, 'Sorry dude, no sisters available.’
How much longer?
Chris pulled the car into park on his driveway and rested his forehead against the hands gripping the steering wheel. The day had been draining and not for the first time, Chris wondered if it was time to retire from acting. He wasn’t getting any younger, as Mr Man-Bun had inadvertently reminded him today, and he was getting married this year with hopefully a family following not too long after. Maybe it was a conversation he needed to have with you, sooner rather than later.
Heaving himself out of the driver seat, he shouldered his bag and headed for his front door. Stepping through, he tried to shake off the weird mood that had settled over him. He’d known forever how superficial his industry was; the constant references to appearances shouldn’t have bothered him so much. But he hated that your relationship was reduced to being the Hot Hollywood Couple.
'Hey babe!’ your musical voice rang lightly through the hallway from the TV room.
Chris smiled to himself, dumped his bag next to the table in the hall and walked through the open archway to his left that joined the hall and the TV room. The room was set up exactly for what you were currently doing: laying back on one of the oversized reclining couches, watching some trashy TV, snuggling with an equally laid back Dodger. You looked over the back of the couch as Chris’ footsteps approached and he looked back at you, really took you in. You had a pair of grey track shorts on and one of his softest tshirts, completely swamping your frame. Your face was scrubbed clean and hair up in a high ponytail. The ends were still damp from, Chris guessed, a fairly recent shower. The image in front of him couldn’t have been any different from the Victoria’s Secret shows, or the magazine spreads, but this was easily his favourite version of you. The one he would propose to over and over again.
Chris hopped over the back of couch, springing off one hand and landed next to you and Dodger, arm instantly snaking around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest before planting a smacking kiss on your forehead. You rested a hand against his chest and looked up at him, angling your mouth towards his, wordlessly asking for a proper kiss this time, please.
He willingly complied and you sighed contentedly, cuddling into him.
'Good day?’ you asked.
'Better now,’ Chris replied, suddenly realising just how true that was. You fell into comfortable silence and Chris pulled your legs up from the recliner so that they spread across his lap and you were perfectly tucked into his body.
'Hey Chris, you know we said we’d go out tonight?’
'Yes,’ Chris replied, elongating the vowels, like he knew what was coming.
'Well, do you mind if we just stay in instead? I’m super tired and my period started today so I kind of just want to be lazy and watch shit TV.’
'I would love nothing more than to stay in and watch shit TV with you. Do you want to order a pizza and follow it with a pint of ice cream?’ Chris smiled down at you.
'Jesus Evans, stop it with the dirty talk,’ you playfully slapped your hand against his chest, 'You know me so well.’
'I try,’ Chris honestly replied, before pressing his lips softly against yours, 'You know I love you right? And not just because you’re the most beautiful woman on earth?’
You pulled back a little to look at him properly, your brows knitting together and one of your hands cupping his cheek, 'What’s got you so serious? Everything okay?’
'Yeah, everything’s fine. I just… I love you. On the runway, on the red carpet, but also just like this.’
You looked down at yourself, slightly amused, not sure where all this was coming from but willing to humour him, 'Just like this? No make up, in my comfy shorts with holes in and a tshirt I plucked out of your laundry hamper?’
'Especially like this,’ he whispered with his forehead pressed against yours, like he was telling you a secret, 'because I don’t have to share this version of you.’
'Hey, you don’t have to share me at all…’ you were getting a little worried. Something was clearly bothering him, so you wracked your brain. Then it dawned on you.
'Have reporters been asking you about us again?’
'It doesn’t matter. I just need you to know that we’re more than our fame, you know? This is us, right here, this is real.’
You were silent for a moment, searching his eyes, your ring catching your eye in your peripheral vision. He was right, of course, this was perfectly real and it was way more than what was in magazines and on the internet. You knew that to your very core, and you knew he did too, but that sometimes, he just needed to get his thoughts out of his head and into the open.
'Babe, this is the most real thing in my entire life. I love you, with my whole heart, and when we’re not famous and we’re old and boring and just spend all our time looking after our kids and our dogs, I will still love you.’
'Always?’ He wrapped a large hand around the wrist of the hand that rested against him cheek and turned his head to kiss your palm.
'Always,’ you repeated with a firm nod, 'Okay?’
Chris breathed deeply, 'Okay.’
'Good. Now get out of your head and order us some pizza please. I’m starving.’
The husband being the ‘head’ of the woman means the protecter, the overseer, the one that watches upon. You’re making sure she’s safe, not becoming her boss. And the wife yielding herself and adapting is the word 'submit’, it doesn’t mean you’re his slave.
Warnings: Mentions of Abuse,
Physical Violence, Fluff Please people, don’t let others hurt you or mistreat you, it sucks!
Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader
Blurb: You get a text from an old
crush and go to meet him, it doesn’t end well, and it gets worse when Bucky
It was eleven o’clock on a Friday
night, the tower was quiet; you were comfy in your oversize hoodie and panties
watching Netflix on the couch. You should’ve stayed there.
Instead you got a text from an
old ‘almost’ boyfriend, about how he was in town and missed you, and could the
two of you meet. So you did. You shouldn’t have.
By the time you’d done your
makeup, got dressed and arrived at the dive bar down the street from the
Avengers Tower it was already half past midnight. Your stomach had been in
knots the whole time, from the minute you agreed to meet him after all this
time, till the minute you saw him at the bar. He waved you over.
“Y/N! I didn’t think you’d
respond, let alone turn up here. Woah, you look so gorgeous!” He kissed your cheek
and you both took a seat. He started talking about everything he’d done since
he last saw you, his new job, responsibilities all the holidays and adventures
he’d gone on, not once asking you how you were.
Was he always this shitty of a person? You wondered.
You looked at your phone, it was
half three. He must have noticed you weren’t paying attention to his story he
slid his hand down your thigh and tried to get up your dress. You pushed his
hand away.Furious that he thought you would just put out for him because ~maybe~ you would’ve been a thing.
“Babe, come on, I know you still
have feelings for me.” He moved closer to your face, his breath heavy with the
whiskey he’d been drinking.
“I thought I did, until you spent
three whole hours going on and on and on about how you were the center of the
universe; just goes to show that some things never change.” You snapped,
standing up and pushing away from the bar. You felt his presence right behind
you, but you simply walked faster.
“Oh no, where do you think you’re
going. You think you can embarrass me in front of people and walk away” he grabbed
your wrist and spun you around to face him, you spat in his face.
Next thing you know he’d back
handed you right across the mouth, you could taste the metallic tinge of blood;
instinctively your tongue touched your lip. Sure enough, there was a cut.
You pulled his arm towards you,
just as Bucky had shown you in sparring and smacked him right at the elbow
until his grip on your arm was gone. “Leave me alone. Creep!” you half yelled
at him. This only angered him further, he grabbed you by the side and slammed
your head into a wall; dizzy, you slid half way down the wall, before he pulled
you around a dark alley way. He slammed you up against the wall, and stuck his
hand up your dress and ripped your panties right off, before starting on his
own button and zip.
You took a deep breath, and
waited, you knew what he was going to do, and you knew you had to conserve your
energy and consciousness for the perfect moment. He pulled his member out and
started to lightly stroke it, grunting. Just as he stepped closer to you, you
slammed the heel of your foot onto the top of his, he screamed out in pain. You
took the opportunity to punch him in the solar plexus, he grunted and folded in
half, that’s when you brought your elbow down straight into the back of his
head. He fell to the ground unconscious. You quickly turned and ran from the
You didn’t stop running, you ran
through the lobby, to the elevators, through the hallway, past Dr Banner’s lab;
you heard him yell but didn’t stop. You ran past the gym and to your room. You
slammed the door shut to your room, jammed your chair up under it and climbed
into your bed and hid under the covers. You cried yourself to sleep that night.
The next morning you woke up,
groggy. Your head was pounding, your eyes burned and your throat was on fire.
You climbed out of your bed noticing the blood stain on your pillows. You
padded into your bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. You looked like
hell, a busted, swollen lip and a black eye. You sighed.
You quickly showered. Stripped
your bed of the dirty sheets, throwing them in your hamper, and then you changed
into your biggest, baggiest hoodie, something that always made you feel safe.
You flopped onto the bed and sighed. Your skin was still crawling with him. You
couldn’t get his disgusting words, his horrible touch out of your head. You
growled, slamming your fists on your bed.
You got up, changed into your
work out gear and thundered down the hall to the training room. Making sure to
avoid everyone, keeping your head down. You checked the gym was free and then
entered. You turned your music on as loud as it would go over the speakers, and
did your warm ups, before turning to the sparring dummy.
After an hour or two – you weren’t
sure – of hard sparring, kicking and punching, someone else entered the
training room and turned your music down slightly.
“Hey Y/N” Bucky said dropping his
gym bag off in the corner and heading for the treadmill to warm up. “Late night
last night?” he smirked.
“Nope” you chided. You knew you
shouldn’t be mad at Bucky, but you didn’t want to talk.
“Huh, could’ve sworn I saw you
running off to your room around four” he said walking a little closer to you.
You turned slightly so he wouldn’t see your face. You knew he’d lose it.
Over the last few months of being
with the Avengers you and he had become close. You weren’t really sure what you
were, but you knew he’d go crazy. He hated to see anyone hurt, especially
women. Even more especially you.
“Nope, must’ve been someone else,”
you said, not taking your eyes off the dummy. Bucky must’ve sensed something
was up, because he came around to face you, and his breath caught.
“What. The. Fuck?” He touched
your face until you were looking directly into his crystal eyes. You pulled
your face away.
“Yeah? That sure as shit doesn’t
look like nothing doll face” he snapped. “What happened, and who the fuck am I
You sighed. Dropping your arms to
your sides. You looked up at Bucky. You could feel the tears already tingling
at the back of your eyes. His face changed and he grabbed you, wrapping his strong
arms around you in a warm embrace. He kissed the top of your head and shushed
you while you cried.
You hated crying in front of
people, especially the Avengers. You didn’t want to be weak.
When you were sure you were all
cried out you took a step out of his embrace. He waited. You took a deep breath
and told him everything; you even showed him the burn mark on your hip where
your panties were ripped off. You told him what you did and how you got away.
His eyes grew cloudy and his whole body tensed. You waited for his response.
“Bucky, I’m, I’m fine, really”
You said, touching his arm. He pulled away.
“Stay here, don’t leave the
tower. I’ll be back” He said, kissing your forehead before storming out of the
room. His murder strut on full display.
“Bucky!” You called after him,
but he was already gone.
After your training session you
went back to your room and had a long shower, clean sheeted your bed and then
went to find something to eat. It had been about an hour since Bucky had
stormed out of the tower. And he wasn’t answering any of your calls or texts.
You grabbed a box of cereal from
the cupboard and plonked onto the couch. You brought your knees up to your chin
and started eating.
“Hey Y/N!” Bruce chirped as he
entered the room. “How are you…..What happened?” Concerned he stood in front of
“Don’t lie” Bruce said crouching
in front of you. You had always loved Bruce, he felt safe; he helped where he
could, and simply listened when he couldn’t. You sighed and gave him the short version;
he shook his head, before grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze.
He was about to say something
when the door slammed open and Bucky stood there, blood on his knuckles, chest
“I’ll talk to you later,” Bruce
said, before squeezing past Bucky and closing the door behind himself.
“Bucky…” you started, softly,
standing up and walking over to him. You grabbed his hands and examined his
knuckles. “What did you do?”
“I went to the bar, and sure
enough that piece of shit was there, talking about how he bagged the newest
Avenger in the alley out back and how she was the feistiest piece of ass he’s
ever had, and he just wouldn’t shut up, so I made damn sure that he wouldn’t
talk shit about you every again doll…” Bucky said, touching the side of your
face where the black eye was. “I also made sure to set everyone in the bar
straight, and if anyone had any problems they could come and see me personally.”
“Bucky,” you closed your eyes and
turned your face in his hand until you were kissing his palm.
“Doll, you are beautiful, smart, funny,
kind, and the strongest woman I have ever met, and you deserve nothing but love
and respect, and to have this piece of shit out there talking smack about you,
I won’t allow it.” He sighed. You reached up and pecked him on the lips.
“Thank you Bucky” you whispered
into his lips.
“Why can’t you see that I am the
one for you doll, I’d worship you, treat you right and never, ever hurt you.”
Bucky whispered, starring at you.
“Bucky, I didn’t, I didn’t know
you felt that –”
“C’mon doll, you’re not that
silly, and I am not that subtle” he smirked
You grabbed him and planted the
biggest, hardest kiss on his lips.