#Day 7: AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kooklovee · 11 days ago

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Married for 7 days - JJK

Matching rings and a joke—your boyfriend says you're married. What he didn’t expect is for you to play along the whole trip... And the more you pretend...the less it feels like a game.

Pairing - bf!Jungkook x gf!Reader

Genre - mostly fluff, smut 18+ (mdni)

Oneshot - 7.8k words

Warnings - fluffff, sunshine energy gf, Jungkook being effortlessly bf/husband material🤭💘, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, little handjob, creampie, marking

a/n - a quick backstory for this plot inspiration - my friend's friend went on a trip with her bf where they got matching rings n had a joke that they were married. AND EXCUSE ME?? this made such a good plot that I just couldn't resist not writing😭😭 n yeah wrote about Greece solely coz of the aesthetics (never been there tho) also also I wrote around 90% of this only listening to Blue by Yung Kai n it perfectly matches the vibe!!😭💗 ps- I feel angst writing is more of my thing bt I've tried writing fluff (a lot) for this sooo lmk if it's acceptable?🫠 n yup early update coz I cancelled out 2,3 more scenes I had in mind 🤷‍♀️ ok byeeee examss upcominggg

Masterlist kofi☕

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Your fingers grip Jungkook’s sleeve, barely able to contain your excitement as you glance out the plane window. Blue. Endless blue. The vast stretch of the sea sparkles below, tiny white houses dotting the cliffs in the distance.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, voice full of wonder. “Look at that.”

He chuckles, his gaze soft and amused, “Baby, we’re still on the plane.”

“I know,” you sigh dramatically, turning back to him. “But still. Greece! Our first trip together! Just you and me for seven whole days.”

Jungkook smirks, teasing, “What if I'm gonna get sick of you?”

You scoff, nudging his shoulder. “You’re stuck with me now, Jeon.”

He exhales, grinning like he wouldn’t have it any other way. The past four years had been beautiful, but between work schedules, deadlines, and life, you barely got time to just be together.

But this time? it’s just you and him. Jungkook hums, fingers lazily tracing circles over your thigh. “I think I could get used to this.”

------------------ Day 1

The moment you step inside, your eyes take in the breathtaking suite. White-washed walls, soft linen curtains swaying from the sea breeze, a private infinity pool overlooking the ocean. Jungkook watches you, arms crossed, fondness written all over his face.

“This is so nice,” you gush, spinning to face him. “I don’t think I’ll ever wanna leave.”

Jungkook sets the luggage down, smirking. “Well, we have a week.”

Your smile grows. Something in your chest feels so warm. You turn to him, eyes gleaming. “What should we do first?”

Jungkook steps closer, voice low and playful. “Hmm. I can think of a few things.”

You shove his chest, laughing, “Yah Jeon, behave.” He chuckles, arms wrapping lazily around your waist, pulling you in. “No promises, baby.”

----

You practically bounce on your feet as you slip on your sandals, the soft sunlight spilling through the sheer curtains of your hotel room. “Okay, okay, I’m ready!” you chirp, spinning to face Jungkook, who is still leaning against the doorframe, watching you with pure amusement.

His arms are crossed, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Are you sure? Because you’ve been ‘ready’ for the last fifteen minutes.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your bag. “I am! Let’s goo”

Jungkook doesn’t move. Instead, he reaches out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into him, his nose brushing against yours.

His voice drops, teasing. “You’re really just trusting me with everything, huh?”

You nod immediately. “Of course. You’re the planner, I’m just here to have fun.” Jungkook exhales a quiet laugh, his fingers trailing lazily up your arm.

He leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your lips. It’s warm. Sweet. Dangerously distracting.

You blink up at him, refusing to fall for it. “Jeon Jungkook, if you don’t take me outside in the next ten seconds, I’m leaving you here.”

He laughs—full, rich, and so effortlessly attractive—before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him.

“Alright, alright,” dropping a quick kiss to your temple. “Let’s go.”

And with his fingers laced through yours, he leads you out—the two of you finally stepping into your first day in Greece.

The scent of fresh-baked bread, sweet honey pastries filling the air as you and Jungkook wander through the bustling market. Your fingers brush against the beautifully painted souvenirs, woven baskets, your eyes wide with excitement.

“Jungkook, look at these!” you gasp, holding up a tiny, hand-carved olive wood frog.

He chuckles, watching you with pure amusement. “You don’t even like frogs.”

You scowl. “Yeah, but look at his little face.”

Jungkook shakes his head, ruffling your hair before grabbing the frog figurine and paying for it without a second thought.

You blink. “I wasn’t actually gonna—”

“Too late,” he smirks, handing it to you. “Now it’s yours.”

Before you can respond, the scent of something sweet and buttery hits your nose, making you immediately turn toward a food stall.

You grin. “We have to try those.”

The vendor hands over a small plate, and before you can even grab a piece, Jungkook picks one up and holds it to your lips.

Your eyes narrow. “You’re feeding me now?”

“Open.”

You roll your eyes but let him feed you, the sweet layers melting on your tongue. A small hum of satisfaction escapes you before you glance at Jungkook.

“Good, huh?” he smirks.

Instead of answering, you take another piece, holding it up like you’re about to feed him.

Jungkook smirks, leaning in. “See? You like it when I—”

But before he can finish, you smirk and pop the piece into your own mouth instead. You burst out laughing, wiping a crumb from your lip. “Tastes good.”

Jungkook gapes at you, half-glaring, half-amused. “You little—”

Before he can finish, you grab his wrist and drag him toward the next stall, giggling.

“We have so much more to eat,” you sing-song.

Jungkook lets you pull him away, shaking his head with amusement.

The market fades behind you as you and Jungkook wander through the winding streets, hand in hand.

The air is warm, salt-kissed from the ocean breeze, and the soft sound of distant waves crashes below the cliffs. White-washed buildings, blue domes line the path, vibrant bougainvillea flowers spilling over terraces.

Jungkook squeezes your hand lightly. “Still trusting my planning skills?”

You grin. “So far, you’re doing great, boyfriend.”

He chuckles, his dimple peeking out, and just when you turn to admire the view—Click.

You blink. “Did you just take my picture?”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide it. He’s holding up his phone, looking way too pleased with himself.

“Yup.”

You narrow your eyes, stepping closer. “Lemme see.”

“Nope.” He smirks, slipping the phone into his pocket.

You gasp. “Jungkook!”

He laughs, stepping back just as you lunge for his phone.

“Oh, baby, don’t even try,” he teases, holding it high above his head, his other hand wrapping around your waist.

You huff, glaring up at him. “What if I looked bad?”

Jungkook stands confident. So annoyingly sure of himself.

“You looked perfect.”He says it so easily, like a fact, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. For a second, you forget what you were even mad about.

Jungkook grins, clearly noticing your reaction. “What? No comeback?”

You snap out of it and quickly grab your phone, flipping the camera. “Okay, if you’re gonna take pictures of me, I’m getting yours too.”

Jungkook doesn’t protest as you start clicking away—a mix of stolen shots and silly ones.

“Okay, now pose,” you instruct, biting your lip to stop your smile.

Jungkook scoffs but obeys, shoving his hands into his pockets, tilting his head slightly, looking effortlessly model-like.

You pause. “That’s unfair.”

“What?”

“You just naturally look good in every picture.”

He laughs, stepping closer. “Says you?”

Before you can argue, he pulls you in, flipping the camera to selfie mode. “Let’s take some together,” he murmurs.

And just like that, you spend the next ten minutes giggling, making faces, taking videos. Jungkook kisses your cheek in one, in another, he makes you laugh so hard your eyes disappear.

The pictures—some blurry, some too close, some candid. but when you look at them later, you realize they’re perfect in every way that matters.

----

The sun is lower in the sky now, everything's in warm shades of gold as you and Jungkook walk along the soft, white sand. Your sandals dangle from your fingers, the ocean breeze cooling your skin.

Jungkook is beside you, his hand lazily intertwined with yours, his other tucked into his pocket as he watches the tide roll in.

“Okay,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. “This might be the prettiest place I’ve ever seen.”

Jungkook hums, glancing at you instead of the view. “Yeah. It really is.”

You turn to look at him—only to find him already looking at you.

Before you can overthink it, something catches your eye—a small wooden stall set up just a little ahead, tucked beneath the shade of a few palm trees.

“What’s that?” You tug on Jungkook’s hand, pulling him toward it.

The stall is lined with handmade jewelry, delicate silver and gold pieces glinting in the fading sunlight. Small sea-glass pendants, braided anklets, thin rings on display.

“Ohh, these are cute,” you murmur, running your fingers over the bands.

Jungkook watches as you casually slip one onto your finger, admiring how it looks before turning to him with a grin.

“Should we get matching ones?” you joke, wiggling your fingers.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Matching rings?”

“Yeah, why not?” you tease. “It’ll be like a little vacation memory.”

Jungkook hums, studying the rings for a moment before wordlessly picking one up. Without hesitation, he takes your hand, slipping it onto your finger himself.

Your breath catches. You glance at him, expecting a smirk, some teasing remark—but he’s quiet. Focused.

The ring fits perfectly.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up to meet yours, and for a second, neither of you say anything.

“Guess we’re married now,” he quips, breaking the silence with a cheeky grin.

You snort, shoving his shoulder. “You’re so dumb.”

But just as you’re about to make another joke, you pause. because Jungkook is still looking at the rings.

And before you can ask, he casually grabs another one—the exact same design—and slips it onto his own finger.

He lifts his hand beside yours, comparing them. “Now we match,” he hums, completely unbothered, making your heart stumble.

----

You collapse onto the bed, sighing dramatically.

Jungkook chuckles, setting his phone down before joining you, his body warm and solid beside yours.

Jungkook lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers, the ring glinting under the dim lights.

“So,” he muses, voice low and playful. “How does it feel to be my wife for seven days?"

You snort, rolling over to face him. “Delusional.”

Jungkook laughs, eyes crinkling, before pulling you into his chest. “You love it.”

You hum, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “Maybe.”

His hand finds yours, fingers absentmindedly tracing over the band on your finger.

Neither of you take the rings off.

Neither of you even think about it.

------------------- Day 2

The warm afternoon sun bathes the streets as you and Jungkook browse a small outdoor market. Small shops, displays filled with handcrafted goods and souvenirs.

You stop at a small stall, admiring intricately painted ceramic plates. An older woman, the vendor, smiles at you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she says, her accent thick with warmth.

You nod enthusiastically. “Yes! My husband and I are visiting for the first time.”

Jungkook chokes on his water.

You hear him cough violently beside you, his hand gripping the bottle like it betrayed him.

The vendor laughs. “Ah, newlyweds?”

“Oh, yes,” you continue smoothly, holding Jungkook’s arm. “We’re having the best time. He planned everything so perfectly.”

You feel him staring at you—his entire existence malfunctioning in real-time.

The woman smiles warmly at Jungkook. “A good husband always takes care of his wife.”

Jungkook clears his throat.

“Oh—uh, yeah,” he mutters. “That’s… me.”

You beam, squeezing his arm. “He’s really amazing. Very thoughtful.”

Jungkook’s ears turn pink.

Once the woman turns away to wrap up your purchase, he leans down, voice low.

“Do you hear yourself?” he mutters.

You grin, still holding onto his arm “What? I’m just staying in character. You said we're married soo...we'll be a happy married couple throughout this trip.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, shaking his head but smiling.

“Oh my god.”

----

Jungkook immediately drops onto the bed, groaning as he stretches his arms above his head.

You plop down beside him, nudging his side. “Tired, husband?”

He groans louder, covering his face with his hands. “If you call me that one more time…”

You grin, rolling onto your stomach to face him. “What? That’s what you are.”

Jungkook peeks at you through his fingers, eyes narrowing. “You’re having too much fun with this.”

You hum, twisting your ring on your finger absentmindedly. “You should too. I mean, you’re already wearing the ring. You might as well act the part.”

Jungkook lifts his hand, inspecting the matching band on his finger. He’s silent for a moment, before—

“I should start calling you ‘wifey’ then, huh?”

Your eyes snap to his face, and—yup. He’s smirking.

“Don't you dare,” you mutter, sitting up immediately.

Jungkook grins wider, propping himself up on his elbows. “Wifey, can you get me some water?”

“I will pour it on your face.”

He laughs, absolutely loving this. “Wifey, should we get couple bathrobes too?”

You grab a pillow and smack him with it.

Jungkook wheezes, rolling away from your attack before bolting up from the bed.

“Okay, okay! I’m going for a swim,” he calls out, grabbing a towel.

You glare at him, crossing your arms. “You’re banned from speaking for the next hour.”

Jungkook grins. “That’s okay.”

With zero shame, he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head in one smooth motion, revealing every defined muscle and tattoo.

Jungkook walks out to the pool—leaving you sitting there, absolutely speechless.

----

The water is cool against your skin, the evening air warm, as you float lazily in the pool. The view of the twinkling lights stretches out beyond the infinity edge.

Jungkook is across from you, leaning against the pool’s edge, his arms resting on the surface, watching you with that look.

The same one from earlier. like he’s amused. Maybe a little dangerous.

You try to ignore it, focusing on the soft ripples in the water.

A small wave splashes against your stomach. Your eyes snap up. Jungkook is still there, expression unreadable. But his fingers, barely submerged, are moving.

You narrow your eyes splashing a wave back without hesitation.

Jungkook gasps, dramatically wiping his face. “Oh, you wanna play?”

Before you can react, he swiftly moves, strong, closing the space between you in seconds.

Your breath catches as his hands find your waist, pulling you against him in the water.

“You’re really pushing your luck, wifey,” he murmurs, voice low, teasing.

Your hands find his shoulders, fingers pressing into firm, wet skin. “And what are you gonna do about it, husband?”

Jungkook grins, kissing you.

The water ripples around you as he pulls you even closer, one hand firm on your hip, the other tracing up your spine. His lips move slow, consuming, his breath mixing with yours.

You let out a small gasp, fingers curling in his hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing against yours, making you feel lightheaded.

He lifts you. Just enough for your legs to wrap around his waist, water dripping between you as his lips trail down your throat.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, heat pooling low, desire crashing into you like the waves beyond.

“Jungkook—”

“Shh,” he murmurs, voice rough, pressed against your skin. “Let me take care of my wife.”

-------------------- Day 3

The morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You stir slightly, but before you can move, a strong arm tightens around your waist.

A deep grumble vibrates against your back. “Where are you going?”

You smile sleepily. “Nowhere.”

Jungkook nuzzles into your neck, his voice raspy with sleep. “Good. Stay.”

His fingers trace lazy patterns on your bare skin, warm, possessive. You hum, relaxing into his touch, “Why are you so tired?

Jungkook grunts. “Because my wife wore me out last night.”

Your face heats instantly. “Oh my god—”

He chuckles, pressing lazy kisses against your shoulder. “Mmm. You liked it.”

You turn to glare at him, but he’s already smirking.

“You’re annoying.”

“And you love it,” he murmurs, pulling you closer, his lips brushing your temple.

You pretend to protest, but honestly?

You could stay like this forever.

-------

The climb isn’t too long, but the slight incline has you huffing just a little.

“Jungkook, are we almost there?” you ask, pushing back a strand of hair as the warm breeze kisses your skin.

Jungkook, walking ahead effortlessly, doesn’t even look winded. He glances back at you with a smirk. “Tired already, wife?”

You narrow your eyes. “You dragged me up here. I should’ve just—”

You stop mid-sentence, sighing dramatically. Jungkook chuckles. Without another word, he crouches down in front of you, patting his back.

You blink. “What are you doing?”

He tilts his head. “What does it look like? Get on.”

Your lips twitch. “Are you sure? I’m not exactly—”

Jungkook turns slightly, raising a brow. “Did I stutter?”

You giggle, placing your hands on his shoulders before hopping onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook adjusts his grip on your thighs, lifting you with ease.

And just like that—he carries you up the trail like you weigh nothing.

You press your cheek against his, grinning. “You’re really strong, huh?”

Jungkook hums. “You’re really lucky, huh?”

Laughing, you pepper soft kisses along his jaw, his cheek, his temple.

Jungkook exhales sharply. “Y/n.”

You blink innocently. “What?”

He grins, shaking his head. “You’re distracting me.”

You laugh against his skin. “What, can’t handle a few kisses?”

Jungkook’s grip on you tightens slightly, his voice dropping just a little lower.

“Keep testing me, wifey.”

You don’t get a chance to respond—because before you know it, you’ve reached the top.

And when Jungkook finally sets you down, he doesn’t let go immediately.

Instead, he lifts his phone, angling the camera before pulling you close against his side.

“Say wifeyyy.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

You still say it. and when you peek at the screen—the view behind you is breathtaking. But the way Jungkook is looking at you in the frame?

His gaze is soft, lingering—something deep. Like he’s seeing something even more beautiful than the world around him.

---------------------- Day 4

Jungkook walks beside you, hands in his pockets, sunglasses on, looking effortlessly cool—until you drag him straight into a clothing store.

“You’re making me shop?” he groans.

You grin, already browsing. “Of course.”

Jungkook exhales, resigned. “Fine. But if I’m suffering, I get to rate your choices.”

And just like that, he ends up sitting on one of those plush chairs outside the fitting room, watching you like this is some kind of mission. You try on a few outfits, twirling in front of him.

Jungkook’s commentary is pure chaos.

“Too frilly.” “Too serious.”

“That one makes you look like a cute little menace—get it.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Eventually, you pick out two dresses, and a jacket for your boyfriend.

No.

Husband.

At the counter, you pull out your card, ready to pay—only for Jungkook to casually slide his in before you can react.

“Jungkook—”

“Got it.” He says it so effortlessly, like it’s nothing.

You stare at him. “I was paying.”

Jungkook shrugs, grabbing the bags. “Not when I’m here.”

You open your mouth to protest, but before you can—

The cashier smiles warmly. “You have a very thoughtful boyfriend.”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.”

The cashier’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh, I’m so sorry—”

You smile sweetly. “He’s my husband.”

The cashier relaxes, “Ohh! You two make a lovely couple.”

You squeeze Jungkook’s arm, pressing close. “Thank you! He’s the sweetest hubby, really.”

Jungkook just stands there. Blinking.

The cashier laughs. “You’re a lucky woman.”

You beam, looking up at Jungkook. “I know.”

The moment you step outside, he leans down, murmuring lowly.

“You did that on purpose.”

You grin. “And?”

Jungkook shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

Your arms are full of shopping bags, and Jungkook is carrying even more.

“You have a problem,” he groans, adjusting the bags on his arms.

You grin, unfazed. “Correction: we have a problem.”

Jungkook exhales dramatically. “I need a refund on this marriage.”

You gasp, clutching your chest. “How dare you? After all we’ve been through?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch. “Come on, let’s find food before you convince me to adopt a souvenir shop.”

----

The night market buzzes with life—Fairy lights and lanterns glow overhead, casting a golden hue as soft music drifts through the lively streets.

You and Jungkook wander through the crowd, sharing bites of food, laughing as he tries to steal yours.

You pause by a musician playing a soft acoustic song, his voice melting into the warm night.

You turn to Jungkook immediately.

His eyes narrow. “No.”

You bat your lashes, pouting. “Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Jungkook,” you whine, nudging him relentlessly.

“No.”

Puppy eyes.

Jungkook groans, running a hand down his face. “Oh my god, stop looking at me like that.”

He swears under his breath before finally stepping forward. “You owe me,” he mutters.

The musician grins, strumming the guitar as Jungkook casually leans in and starts singing.

His voice melts into the night, smooth and effortless, blending perfectly with the melody. Conversations quiet, heads turn, people pause to listen.

You watch in awe, your heart tripping over itself.

Jungkook, who claimed he didn’t want to sing, looks completely in his element.

By the time the song ends, the small crowd cheers and claps—and Jungkook glances at you, shaking his head with a knowing smirk.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters, but he’s smiling.

You beam, grabbing his hand. “And you’re amazing.”

Jungkook lets you pull him away, fingers intertwined, the warmth of the night wrapping around you both.

------------------- Day 5

The small cooking studio is bright and welcoming, filled with the scent of fresh, warm bread.

Jungkook snickers as you struggle with your apron. “Are you already losing?”

You glare. “Shut up.”

He grins, effortlessly tying his own. “You sure you don’t want to just let me cook?”

“Nope,” you're determined.

Jungkook just laughs, clearly amused.

The class begins, and predictably— you’re a disaster.

Your dough refuses to knead properly, your vegetables are questionably chopped.

Jungkook, of course, is thriving.

“I can’t believe I’m married to this,” he sighs dramatically, shaking his head.

You elbow him. “EXCUSE ME?”

He smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry, wifey. I’ll make sure we don’t starve.”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach flips a little at the way he says it.

Midway through the class, Jungkook’s phone vibrates.

“Work,” he mutters, frowning. “I’ll be quick. Don’t burn the place down.”

You wave him off. “Go, go.”

With Jungkook distracted, Jay—the instructor—steps over your station to help.

“How’s it going over here?”

You laugh sheepishly, “Terrible. I think I’ve offended the cooking gods.”

Jay laughs. “You’re not that bad.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, yeah, this is pretty bad,” he grins.

“Try using less force,” he suggests, guiding your hands gently.

You try again, still failing miserably.

“Okay, maybe a little more force than that.”

You groan in frustration, but it only makes him grin.

“At least you’re enjoying yourself,” he says.

You laugh, shaking your head.

Jungkook returns just in time to see you laughing easily, comfortably—with the instructor.

He steps back beside you, sliding an arm around your waist effortlessly.

“You good, sweetheart?” he asks.

You blink up at him. Sweetheart?

Jay nods. “We were just fixing the dough.”

Jungkook hums, but his hand stays on you.

For the rest of the lesson, he’s suddenly way too attentive. Helping you, adjusting your apron, calling you ‘wife’ three times in five minutes.

Oh, you know exactly what’s happening.

And honestly? You love it.

----

The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. The evening air carrying the salty scent of the ocean. Jungkook walks ahead, leading you toward a parked motorbike.

“Wait. You—”

Jungkook swings his leg over the seat effortlessly, grinning as he pats the space behind him. “Get on.”

Your eyes widen. “Jungkook. Where did you even get this?”

He smirks. “Rented it.”

You stare. “When?”

He shrugs, slipping his sunglasses on. “Had some free time.”

You cross your arms. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Jungkook chuckles, reaching for your wrist and pulling you closer. “It’s a surprise, baby. Now, come on.”

Jungkook pats the seat again, smirking. “Scared?”

You narrow your eyes. “Not even a little.”

Swinging your leg over, you settle behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Jungkook hums in approval, his hands resting on yours.

“Hold on tight.”

The bike roars to life, wheels kicking up dust as he speeds down the open road.

Wind rushes through your hair, the world blurring around you in a mixture of colors and motion.

You gasp, laughing as you tighten your hold on him. “Jungkook—!”

He laughs too, a sound so free, so full of joy, that it makes your chest tighten.

“Like it?” he shouts over the wind.

You press your cheek against his back, grinning against the fabric of his shirt. “I love it!”

Jungkook grins too. And then—he speeds up.

You squeal, tightening your grip. “Jungkook, slow down!”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I thought you weren’t scared?”

You huff, smacking his stomach lightly.

Jungkook laughs, slowing just a little.

He rides for a while, taking you through winding coastal roads, past cliffs overlooking the sea, the salty air mixing with the scent of his cologne.

He leads you both to a secluded viewpoint overlooking the ocean.

The view is breathtaking—endless ocean stretching toward the horizon, the sun dipping lower, turning the water into molten gold.

You don’t even realize you’re still holding onto him.

Jungkook turns slightly, his voice lower now. “You can let go, you know.”

You nuzzle against his shoulder. “Don’t want to.”

His fingers gently brush against yours.

Then, a whisper, almost lost in the sound of the waves.

“Then don’t.”

------------------- Day 6

You wake up expecting another fun day of exploring, but something feels different. Jungkook is way too calm. No teasing smirks. No cryptic questions.

Just casual, relaxed Jungkook, who kisses your forehead and says, “Let’s just take it easy today.”

Huh?

You squint at him. This man has been planning every second of this trip and now he suddenly wants to ‘take it easy’?

But okay, fine.

You two spend the day strolling around, checking out small shops. and every time you try to read his expression, he just smiles.

Like he knows something you don’t.

By late afternoon, you can’t take it anymore. You stop in your tracks and grab his arm. “Jungkook, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, pretending to be clueless.

“You’re… too normal?”

He snorts. “And that’s suspicious?”

“VERY.”

Jungkook just laughs and pulls you into a hug. “Baby, relax. Just enjoy the day, yeah?”

You narrow your eyes, suspicious as ever, but decide to let it go.

As you head back to the hotel, Jungkook casually says, “Oh, by the way, be ready by 7.”

Oh. Okay??

So here you are standing in front of the mirror, holding up two dresses.

Jungkook’s lack of details has you overthinking. What exactly are you dressing for? Something fancy? Something casual?

With a sigh, you call out, “Jungkook, help me pick.”

He walks over, eyes flicking between the two options. “Try them on.”

You huff. “Can’t you just choose?”

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “Nope. I wanna see.”

Rolling your eyes, you slip into the first dress—a soft, elegant choice. Pretty, but… safe.

You step out, twirling slightly. “This?”

Jungkook hums, tilting his head. “It’s nice.”

Nice?

You narrow your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He bites back a grin. “Try the other one.”

You sigh but change into the second dress—a sleeveless, ankle-length beauty. fitted at the top, flowing softly down your waist, hugging you in all the right places.

You step out, smoothing the fabric "This one?”

His eyes drag over you, slower this time. His lips part slightly, but no words come out.

You raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

Jungkook swallows, his voice lower. “Yeah. That one.”

You smirk, turning back to the mirror. “Thought so.”

----

Jungkook leads you outside, where a sleek, black car is already waiting.

You blink, surprised. “Wait… you booked a private car?”

Jungkook grins, opening the door for you. “Of course. Only the best for my wife.”

You roll your eyes, getting in, biting back a small smile.

As the car glides through the city, Jungkook’s hand finds yours, thumb tracing small circles.

You glance at him. “Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nope.”

You huff dramatically. “I hate you.”

Jungkook just smirks, leaning closer. “No, you don’t.”

It doesn't take long when the car pulls up to the venue. He opens the door for you.

“We’re here,” he murmurs, squeezing your fingers.

You step out, and your breath catches instantly. The place is breathtaking. Not extravagant, not overwhelming—just perfect.

The entrance is lined with soft, golden lights. Delicate floral arrangements fill the space, their scent carried by the evening breeze. The tables are set with warm candlelight, elegant yet cozy decor, the entire atmosphere radiating love.

It’s exactly what you’d love.

You turn to him, eyes wide with awe. “Jungkook…”

He watches you, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips.

“You like it?” he asks softly.

Your chest tightens. “Like it? It’s.. beautiful.”

Jungkook grins, leading you inside.

But as you take it all in, you speak softly, “You shouldn’t have spent so much..”

Jungkook stops, turning to you. His brows furrow slightly, as if he doesn’t understand. With a small chuckle, he leans in, his voice gentle.

“Baby,” he murmurs. “Do you really think I wouldn’t give you the world if I could?”

Your heart stumbles. A small smile making to your face.

Jungkook pulls out your chair, helping you settle before taking his seat across from you. The soft candlelight flickers between you, casting a golden glow over his features.

And the way he’s looking at you? Like you’re the most beautiful thing in the room.

You raise an eyebrow, smiling. “You’re staring.”

Jungkook shrugs, unbothered. “Yeah.”

Your heart stumbles.

The conversation flows easily—laughter, teasing, deep moments that make your chest tighten. And just when you think the night couldn’t get any more romantic, Jungkook stands, offering his hand.

“Dance with me?”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Here?”

He nods toward the open space, where soft music plays in the background. “Why not?”

You hesitate for half a second before slipping your hand into his. Jungkook guides you effortlessly, his touch firm yet gentle. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close, swaying to the soft melody.

Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, your cheek pressing against his chest.

“I love you,” Jungkook murmurs.

Your heart melts.

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze. “I love you, too.”

Jungkook’s smile softens before he leans in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your lips.

Everything else fades.

It’s just you, him, and the feeling of being completely and utterly loved.

----

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, comfortable—Jungkook’s fingers lazily tracing patterns on your palm as he holds your hand.

Once inside the room, you kick off your heels, sighing dramatically.

Jungkook chuckles. “Tired?”

You turn to him, smirking. “Emotionally, yes. My husband was incredibly romantic tonight. It was overwhelming.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but the tips of his ears turn pink. “Shut up.”

You gasp. “Oh my god, are you blushing?”

He groans, grabbing your waist and pulling you into bed with him.

You yelp, laughing as you land against his chest.

His arms lock around you, holding you close. “Stop talking.”

You grin against his skin. “Never.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically, but his grip tightens.

You shift slightly, tilting your head up to look at him softly, “Seriously, though… tonight was perfect. Thank you.”

His gaze softens. “Anything for you, baby.”

Your heart melts as you snuggle deeper into his warmth.

Jungkook presses a lazy kiss to your forehead.

------------------- Day 7

From the moment you wake up, there’s a heaviness in your chest.

It’s the last day of your trip.

Tomorrow morning, you’ll be on a flight back home, and this dream-like escape with Jungkook will be just… a memory.

You sigh, leaning into his warmth. “I don’t want this to end.”

Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your temple. “We still have the whole day, baby.”

You both decide to just walk..with no specific destination in mind, hand in hand, strolling through the streets, weaving through flower stalls, sharing street food, laughing at nothing. The weather is perfect—bright but breezy, the sky painted in soft blues and wisps of white clouds.

Everywhere you turn, there are vibrant flowers in bloom, colors bursting against the golden buildings.

Jungkook squeezes your hand. “Happy?”

You look up at him, feeling the sun, the wind, the warmth of his palm against yours.

“Very.”

You don’t know how long you walk. Until—You turn a corner—

An open, breathtaking garden.

Sprawling fields of flowers in every shade imaginable. The gentle breeze carries their scent, petals dancing in the wind.

And the sunset—oh, the sunset. Burning gold, soft pinks, and deep purples, stretching endlessly into the horizon.

“...Wow.”

You step forward instinctively, tugging Jungkook’s hand, drawn to the beauty before you.

Your fingers graze the petals of a flower, eyes wide with childlike wonder.

“It’s so beautiful,” you whisper, voice barely above a breath.

Jungkook doesn’t respond.

Because he’s not looking at the flowers. He’s looking at you. The way your hair moves with the wind, strands catching the golden light. The way your lips part slightly in awe, the way your eyes shine with pure happiness.

His chest tightens, something deep and unshakable settling in his heart.

He clicks his camera. Capturing you—this moment, this feeling. The shutter sound makes you turn around, still grinning.

“Kook, this place is amazing, isn’t it?”

Jungkook steps forward, silently plucking a small flower from a nearby bush. gently tucking it behind your ear.

You laugh lightly at the gesture—until you notice his expression.

He’s just… watching you.

So much love in his eyes, so much depth—like he’s seeing something more than just this moment. The laughter fades. He leans in without a word.

A soft kiss. Slow. So full of emotion that your heart aches. When he pulls away, you whisper against his lips, breathless. "What was that for?”

Jungkook’s gaze holds yours. He smiles, voice barely above a whisper.

“Just like that.”

----

As the sun lowers into the horizon you're back to the beach, golden hues, the waves lapping gently at the shore.

You and Jungkook sit side by side on the sand, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns in it.

His arm rests behind you, his presence warm and comforting. Neither of you speaks much—there’s no need to. The silence is peaceful, filled only by the sound of the waves and the distant laughter of kids playing nearby.

Jungkook glances at you, softly smiling. “Feeling better?”

You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Yeah. Today was perfect.”

He presses a kiss to your hair. “Good.”

You both sit there, soaking in the moment, something you never want to forget.

Your attention shifts to the group of kids laughing a little ways down the beach.

Something about their pure, carefree joy makes you smile.

You’re standing up, dusting the sand off your dress.

“I’ll be back.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Where are you—”

But you’re already walking toward the kids.

Jungkook stays seated, watching as you crouch down to talk to them, as they giggle, as you laugh with them.

Watching as your eyes shine with excitement, your hair catching the evening light, your smile so full of warmth it makes something deep inside him ache.

His chest feels… tight, full. Happy in a way that words can’t describe.

You fully immerse yourself in the game they’re playing, running around, helping them build something in the sand, laughing like a child yourself.

Jungkook can’t take his eyes off you.

After a while, you lean down, whispering something to one of the kids.

The said kid rushes toward him, stopping right in front of him with big, excited eyes.

“Your wife wants to know if you want to play with us!”

Jungkook blinks.

Then—he chuckles, shaking his head, completely endeared.

“Wife, huh?” he muses, standing up and dusting off his pants.

The boy nods eagerly. “She said you have to say yes.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically. “Of course she did.”

But he’s already walking toward you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Didn’t even spare the kids, huh?” he teases, wrapping an arm around your waist playfully.

You grin up at him. “Nope.”

Jungkook shakes his head, but he’s smiling—smiling so, so much.

For the next hour, the two of you run through the sand, playing, laughing, losing yourselves in the moment.

Jungkook picks up a kid, spins them around, their giggles echoing through the air. You chase another, only to get caught yourself, falling onto the sand in a fit of laughter. And through it all—Jungkook watches you. His heart aching with love, with something deeper, something infinite.

Because this?

This is what happiness feels like.

The walk back to the hotel is quiet, peaceful—your hearts still full from the evening.

As soon as you step inside, you both head to the bathroom, washing off the sand. Jungkook runs a towel through his damp hair, watching as you step out first.

You make your way to the mirror, fingers reaching up to remove your earrings. Jungkook wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Your eyes fall to his hand—the matching ring on his finger. Then to yours. You chuckle softly, turning in his embrace.

"Our fake marriage ends tonight,” you tease, holding up your hand.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker, something unreadable passing through them.

He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, lifting your hand to his lips. “We still have a few hours left.”

His voice is low, filled with something that makes your breath catch.

He kisses you. Slow—like he’s memorizing the way you taste, the way you feel, the way this moment exists.

Jungkook’s hands trail down your back, feather-light, deliberate.

You feel the slow unzip of your dress. You shudder, anticipation curling in your stomach, making your breath hitch.

His lips stay on yours, teasing, soft, even as his fingers push the fabric off your shoulders. The silk slides down your arms, skimming your skin before pooling at your feet.

Jungkook leans back slightly, his darkened gaze sweeping over you. His tongue flicks over his lips, jaw tightening.

You feel warmth creep up your neck. “Jungkook…”

A small smirk tugs at his lips. “You’re shy?”

“Shut up,” you breathe.

He chuckles, shaking his head, but his hands are already lifting you effortlessly. You gasp softly as he carries you to the bed, his grip firm, steady.

Jungkook lays you down gently, hovering above you, his fingers gliding over your skin—his lips follow, trailing soft kisses from your collarbone, across your chest, moving lower. Jungkook takes his time. His mouth brushes against your skin—slow, reverent.

His hands map every curve, every dip, every part of you that he wants to claim. You writhe beneath him, warmth spreading through your body, your fingers threading through his hair.

He looks up, his gaze locking with yours, something intense flickering in his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice husky, thick with emotion.

Heat coils in your stomach, your heart hammering.

Jungkook smirks softly. “Still shy?”

You bite your lip, refusing to answer, but he just chuckles. Jungkook’s fingers trail down your spine, teasing.

His lips find the sensitive spot on your neck, sucking lightly as his hands slide to your back, unhooking your bra with practiced ease.

The fabric falls away, and his hot mouth lashes onto your breast, tongue swirling, sucking, teasing.

A gasp escapes you, your back arching into him. His hand already trailing lower, over your stomach, between your thighs. His fingers press over your soaked panties, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm.

“So wet for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

Your hips lift slightly, desperate for more. Jungkook smirks against your skin, pushing your panties aside before slipping his fingers through your folds.

His touch is gentle but firm, working you open, drawing soft, breathless moans from your lips.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging. “-kook…” His name falls from your lips, breathy, desperate.

That seems to snap something in him. He pulls his fingers out slowly, making you whimper at the loss. You reach for his t-shirt, tugging at it impatiently.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. He pulls it over his head, revealing golden skin, hard muscles, the sculpted lines of his chest.

Your hands immediately roam over his torso, feeling every ridge, every flex beneath your touch.

He kisses you again, claiming. As his lips move against yours, you lower your hand, palming him through his pants. Jungkook groans against your mouth, his hips twitching at your touch. Tugging at his waistband, you push his pants down, and he helps, kicking them off.

Your fingers wrap around his thick, heavy length, stroking slowly. Jungkook shudders, his head dropping into the crook of your neck. His hand moves between your legs again, teasing your entrance, feeling just how ready you are.

You grab him, lining him up at your entrance. Jungkook’s gaze meets yours, dark, burning. Your body stretches, molding to fit him perfectly as he pushes in.

A moan rips from your throat, but Jungkook swallows it, his lips pressing against yours. He moves slow, savoring every second, letting you feel everything.

One hand strokes your cheek, his thumb caressing your lower lip. You part your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth, sucking softly.

Jungkook’s eyes darken instantly, his jaw tightening. His pace quickens, thrusts deep and deliberate, every movement pushing you closer to the edge.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving scratches—marks that he welcomes.

“I—I'm close,” you whimper, body trembling beneath him.

Jungkook’s breath is ragged, his forehead pressed to yours. “Hold it,” he rasps, his voice raw.

Your body trembles beneath him, every nerve overwhelmed as Jungkook keeps his slow, deep thrusts steady. His breath is hot against your lips, his forehead resting against yours.

Your fingers clutch his back, nails dragging over his skin, and he groans, hips stuttering for a moment. “Jungkook-,” you gasp, legs tightening around his waist.

You whimper, toes curling, mind blurring.

Jungkook leans down, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, swallowing your moans. His thumb trails between your bodies, finding that sensitive spot, rubbing slow, teasing circles.

You arch into him, body tightening.

“Now,” he breathes, voice low, commanding. “Come with me, baby.”

He thrusts deep, hitting exactly where you need him. Your body shatters, waves of pleasure crashing over you, moans spilling from your lips as you fall apart beneath him.

Jungkook groans deeply, burying his face in your neck as his release follows, hips jerking, his body shaking with the force of it.

He holds you so tight, as if trying to keep this moment frozen in time. Both of you pant heavily, bodies tangled together, skin sticky with sweat.

Jungkook stays inside you, his weight warm, loving.

His arms wrap snugly around your waist, pressing slow, lazy kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, anywhere he can reach.

Your fingers tangle in his damp hair, trailing softly, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

Your heart is still racing. After a moment, he lifts his head, his dark eyes finding yours, heavy with something deep, something endless.

You smile, tired but content. “What?”

Jungkook just stares, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingers trace soft, absentminded patterns over your skin, the other still intertwined with yours.

He speaks, softer than a whisper, almost like an afterthought, “Do you want to marry me again after this trip?”

A soft, breathless laugh escapes you. “What?”

Jungkook doesn’t waver. His hold tightens slightly, thumb brushing against your knuckles. A little more hesitant, but still so full of love—

“Do you want to marry me, Y/N?”

The weight of his words settles over you—warm, overwhelming, all-consuming.

Your lips part slightly, heart stuttering.

But then—you realize something.

You stare at him for a moment, and then, to his surprise, a soft chuckle slips past your lips.

Jungkook’s brows furrow slightly, confused.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, biting your lip, eyes twinkling. “Did you really just propose to me in this situation?”

His ears turn red instantly. A soft groan escapes him as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“Just answer,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.

Your chest tightens—so full of warmth, so full of love you can barely contain it.

Cupping his face, you bite back a bigger smile, your voice soft,—

“Don’t you already know the answer?”

Jungkook’s breath catches. He murmurs, softer this time.

“I want to hear it.”

You pull him down, your lips brushing against his as you whisper—

“Yes. I’ll marry you again, husband.”

His breath shudders—something raw, something so full of love it nearly breaks you.

He's kissing you.

Slow. Endless.

Like a promise, like a vow, like something unbreakable. His hands tighten around yours, fingers lacing together.

Your matching rings glinting under the dim light.

Blending together.

Like fate. Like love.

Like something that was meant to be all along.

---------------------------------------------------

2K notes · View notes

marvelstoriesepic · 5 months ago

Text

Whumpcember (day 7)

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky x Lady!Reader

Prompt: Kidnapped

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: descriptions of kidnapping; mentions of death and murder

Divider by @silkholland

Masterlist | Whumpcember Masterlist

You put up a fight.

It doesn’t matter that you lost, you keep telling yourself.

You fought. With everything you had.

You made them work for it.

They hadn’t waltzed into your home unannounced and plucked you like a ripe fruit.

No. They had to chase you. Through your father's grand halls, past portraits of ancestors who surely would have been appalled by the racket.

You had turned over tables, ducked behind curtains, slipped from one room to the next, heart pounding in your throat just like your feet on the floors.

It made them rougher. It made them intimidating. It made them brutal.

But even when they finally cornered you, when their calloused hands aggressively grabbed at your arms and pulled you, you didn’t stop. You thrashed and screamed and kicked and bit and clawed - every inch of your body on high alert and protesting against their strong hold.

They were sweating by the time they bound you, snarling curses and grunts of frustration flying at your face with the spit out of their mouths. They called you names, ugly names, growled at you to stop resisting.

One of the three men even laughed - a low, cruel sound - but it was laced with fury.

You tell yourself it was worth it.

Every bruise, every ache in your body as they now drag you down the manor steps to the waiting ship, every ragged breath you manage to gulp in your struggle - it’s all worth it. Even as your father’s angered voice fades behind you, lost in the salt-stung wind and the distant crash of waves.

Because you didn’t make it easy for them.

You fought back.

And that is something you will forever be proud of.

Although that forever might end sooner than you had envisioned before this day.

Still, you tell yourself you won something - however small.

Maybe you won’t live to see the end of this. Maybe the days ahead hold horrors you couldn’t yet imagine.

But you didn’t go quietly.

The gangplank groans beneath the firm boots of your three kidnappers as they haul you aboard. The salty air stings the cuts on your wrists where the ropes bite into your skin but you refrain from wincing.

The ship rises and falls with the swell of the sea. It’s unfamiliar. So foreign in its feeling, it reminds you just how much you leave behind by stepping foot onto this ship.

The men shove you forward.

Around you, the crew is working. You have no idea why there are so many people needed on a ship but you feel the urge to shrink into yourself at the many stares you receive.

So many men. And none of them say anything. But they smirk and chuckle menacingly and you grow more uneasy with every step you take.

A prize. That’s what you are to them.

“Cap’n’s gonna love this,” one of the men holding you mutters, spitting onto the deck. He smells of sweat and dirt.

Again, you refrain from wincing.

“Aye,” grunts the one behind you, whose arm you had managed to claw so deep, the blood is already drying in ragged streaks. “Feisty little wench. Wonder how long she’ll keep her spirit when the Captain’s done with her.”

You hope there is no fear on your face. But your heart certainly picked up in pace. Your silence seems to irk the men further, and you feel the grip on your arms tighten, yanking you forward. “Come on, girl, move!”

The boards beneath your feet are damp and uneven, smelling of seawater and tar. The crew keeps eying you with varying degrees of interest - some openly leering, others grinning like your presence on the ship is the best to have happened to them all year. A shiver crawls up your spine. Your hands ball to fists.

They part as you are dragged toward the wheel, where a figure stands. His silhouette is tall and commanding against the blood-red sunset.

That must be the captain.

He isn’t barking orders or pacing like you might have expected. Instead, he stands still, one of his arms resting casually on the hilt of a blade strapped to his hip, his other hand tracing lazy circles against the ship’s wooden railing.

His left hand is basically red with scar tissue, though he doesn’t seem to mind it’s on full display.

He looks more put together than some of the others - the three men who captured you especially. The way he carries himself seems almost careless. So nonchalant. Confident, as though he owns not only the ship but the waves themselves. His dark hair is pulled back loosely, strands of it catching the wind.

James Barnes.

It’s not like you haven’t heard the name before.

Of course, you have.

The pirate who had crawled up from the depths after losing everything, carving his name into the bones of the sea. Ruthless. Calculating. Cold.

Your father never said much about the man, but that is part of what unnerves you. He isn’t afraid of anything - at least, not that he lets show. But any time someone dared to bring up Bucky Barnes or his crew, your father’s face would harden in a way that always made your stomach twist.

Now you are standing on the deck of Barnes’s ship, caught in the middle of a vendetta you hadn’t even known existed.

All you know, all you had heard from half-overheard conversations or rumors whispered among the servants in your manor is that Bucky Barnes lost his mother and sister in a raid many years back.

It was brutal you had heard. Indiscriminate. Pirates or mercenaries stormed his village under the cover of darkness and burned torches to the ground.

He was young then, barely a man, but he fought. With everything he had. But it wasn’t enough.

The details are hazy but you heard enough to imagine how awful that must have been.

His father had survived the raid. He was a sailor then. But he joined forces and took his son along, cutting a swath of vengeance across the water. They hunted the men responsible all over the globe. That’s when he became a pirate.

His father’s obsession with vengeance consumed him until it finally cost him his life. Again, you are lost on any details. It might have been a skirmish gone wrong or the grief dragging him under the water. You can’t tell.

All you can tell is that it left Bucky alone. And it made him the cold-blooded pirate he is nowadays.

But nothing could have prepared you for the reality of him.

His eyes are a storm. Wilder than any tornado you had heard stories of. His jawline is sharp, cheekbones high, a handsome face marred only by the thin scar running from his temple to his ear.

The men haul you forward and he watches you with a calmness that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He doesn’t speak right away, just lets his gaze sweep over you slowly, deliberately, intensely, like he is studying something he’s been waiting for a long, long time.

“Cap’n Barnes,” one man says. His lip is split, a crimson smear trailing down to his chin. You did that. “We got her.”

Rough hands shove you forward unceremoniously. You stumble but don’t fall, catching yourself just in time. You keep your expression as blank as it would go.

Bucky’s lips twitch at the corners, but it’s not quite a smile. He steps down from his spot near the wheel, boots hitting the deck with a weight that silences even the wind. He looks at the men then and there is something darkly amused in the way his brow arches.

“This is her?” His voice is smooth but carries an edge, the kind that could cut without raising.

Bucky’s harsh gaze flicks to the scratches on one man’s arms, then to the bruises blooming on another’s jaw, and to the trail of blood on the last man’s neck, still trailing lower, from the chapped lips you had punched open.

You allow yourself a short breath before his attention can switch back to you.

The men shift nervously under his scrutiny and the raised eyebrow. “She fights like a damn wildcat,” defends the one with the open bruises. The captain hadn’t even said anything yet. “Nearly gouged my eye out.”

Bucky barks out a laugh, the sound sharp and unexpected. “Shame it didn’t stick.”

The men grumble in discomfort, looking at each other.

The captain chuckles, though it’s low and humorless and rather terrifying. Your skin prickles.

“You mean to tell me the daughter of a landlubber put you lot on your asses?” he spits out.

You can’t help your reaction.

You are well aware that you are finding yourself in a rather dangerous position. But nobody talks your father down. Nobody gets to walk over his title in such a manner. Nobody gets to derogate your father. Not even a damn pirate captain. Running over your father’s name means running over yours as well.

So, yes, you jerk against the arms that hold you and you let your fury redden your face.

Though you should have known better.

Because Bucky’s attention is now solely focused on you, eyes like steel blazing against your skin.

He steps closer to you, his boots scuffing the wood, and you straighten instinctively, refusing to shrink under the pressure his gaze puts upon you. He stops just short of you, close enough that you can see the faint stubble on his jaw and the cold intrigue in his eyes.

His lips twitch again. This time it’s the shadow of a smirk. It unsettles you.

You shiver.

Bucky’s smirk deepens. He reaches out his scarred hand, tilting your chin upwards with two fingers. His touch isn’t rough, but it isn’t gentle either. More like he’s inspecting a piece of cargo. You try your very best to meet his gaze with eyes burning in defiance.

He looks eager - wickedly so - for something you’re not sure of but the fear you tried to shove to the deepest corners of your body comes creeping up your neck, overshadowing the pride you held for yourself just moments before.

You hate yourself for it. But your heart can’t help but thud violently.

“You’ve got your father’s looks about you,” he murmurs so quietly, you’re not sure anyone but you even heard it. It’s probably not even meant for your ears but he doesn’t seem like a person to care what people think. So why would he care if you heard him.

He sounds dangerous though. Too calm and still lethal. Your fear takes on another shape.

But as his hand moves to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, your head jerks away on its own and your lips form a slight snarl.

Bucky chuckles again. And to your surprise, it actually sounds amused. His hand falls from your face and he takes a step back from you with his wide smirk still plastered on his handsome face. He tilts his head at you slightly, studying you some more.

Pieces click into place. Actually, they’d been there all along, waiting in the corners of your mind, half-formed and heavy with a meaning that makes you shudder. But one you have to acknowledge now since you find yourself in its cause.

This isn’t a random kidnapping. This isn’t about piracy. You’re not just here because your father is able to pay a high ransom for your release.

This is something far older, far darker.

This is vengeance.

The vengeance Bucky Barnes had fought for his whole pirate life.

You don’t know any specifics. Perhaps Bucky doesn’t either. But a pirate doesn’t care for specifics after all.

Your father’s trading empire had always been shadowed by backroom deals, underhanded tactics, and alliances forged in blood. He’d always tried to hide the dark parts from you of course. He was good at hiding things - his anger, his dealings, his sins.

But you always felt like something was wrong with his world. And you were curious, foolishly so. You were a child, and children always want to touch the flame.

You never did well with the path he went down.

The first time you confronted him - clutching letters you weren’t meant to read in your trembling grip and demanding answers - he barely even looked at you as he ordered the guards to lock you in your room.

“This is not your business. And if you want to keep that little head of yours, you will learn to stay where you belong.”

You didn’t learn. You were young and stubborn and naive, so you kept pushing, kept digging into the corners he wanted you to leave untouched.

You spent weeks locked inside your room every time. He taught you lesson after lesson, each one harder than the last. Servants were forbidden to speak to you, the scraping of plates grating on you as they slid your meals through the door. No books. No letters. No glimpse outside. Just silence so suffocating, walls pressing against you from all sides, like they were on your father’s side, conspiring to keep you in.

Your father isn’t a cruel man - not in the way you’d imagine cruelty, all whips and chains and unrestrained fury. His cruelty is colder, quieter, built into the way he looks at you like you are a disappointment for daring to see too much. For daring to want too much.

He wants to protect you is what he told you. He told you it’s dangerous out there.

It is.

But it’s dangerous because of him. He hadn’t locked you away out of protection, he just tried to keep you from looking too closely at the cracks in the foundation of his empire.

And now, because of those cracks, because of his choices, you are here.

It isn’t hard to imagine that your father might have had some hand in whatever led to that fateful raid those years ago that cut down Bucky’s family.

And the pirate had lived his life thereafter chasing the ghost of his family’s ruin.

And that makes you his prize. His weapon. His proof that revenge could be tangible.

He basically lived the last years in pursuit of this moment.

The thought burns in your chest. Low and fierce. But you won’t break under the mistakes of your father’s legacy. Not for him. Not for Bucky. Not for anyone.

You press your lips together and meet Bucky’s gaze again and this time you see it. Sitting just behind his irises.

Hatred.

“Take her below,” he orders gravely. “And keep her in one piece. For now.”

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