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[srisakthitex]

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[rkcotweaving1]

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[nereidprinc3ss]

in the dead of night

in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH

When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 

Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 

God, he loves you. 

It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 

“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 

“Hm?” 

His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 

“Is this okay?”

You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 

“I need yes or no, angel.”

“Yes, please.”

The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 

“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 

“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 

“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”

“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”

Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 

“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 

He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 

The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 

“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”

“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”

He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 

“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”

The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”

“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”

He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 

“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 

“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”

That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 

“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”

“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”

It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 

“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”

“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”

“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 

“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”

You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 

“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 

“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”

“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 

“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”

“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”

“Why not?”

You huff.

“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”

“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”

You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 

“No! I take it back.”

“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”

The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”

“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”

“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”

That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.

“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”

A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”

“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”

You laugh. 

Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 

He loves it when you do that. 

[ros3ybabes]

🎀 Workout Youtubers

I currently do exclusively pilates and yoga workouts from youtube. However, I've done other body weight workouts with various youtube videos and seen results in the past. Here is my list of workout youtubers that you could check out! I will put a * next to my personal favorites! I will include a short list of my current at home workout equipment at the end as well as some items I plan on buying soon!

With any workout program or routine, always be safe, check with your doctor if necessary, and if something doesn't feel good or right, don't do it! No matter what your goals are, it's always important to be safe and stay healthy. Please always take care of yourselves and know how beautiful, worthy and valuable you are no matter what! I love you all <333

🩷 Pilates

Move with Nicole * (also posts occasionally barre and yoga videos as well! I love her videos so so much)

Madeleine Abeid

IsaWelly

Pilatesbodyraven

Lidia Mera

Lottie Murphy

Amanda Blauer

Margaret Elizabeth

Jessica Valant Pilates

Bailey Brown

Dansique Fitness

Flow with Mira

Sivi (she's began posting some pilates inspired workouts and to my knowledge is currently getting certified as an instructor)

🩷 Yoga

Yoga with Adriene *

Yoga with Bird

Boho Beuatiful Yoga

🩷 Bodyweight Fitness/Strength/HIIT

Chloe Ting * (I don't like the click bait, but I like the workouts)

Blogilates

Pamela Reif *

Madfit *

Lilly Sabri * (Some of her videos are titled with pilates, but the older ones I used to do were not pilates, so I categorized her here)

Emi Wong

Shirlyn Kim

Vivian Yuan

April Han

growingannanas

growwithjo * (I love her walking workouts)

Hinafit

Mish Choi

Sami Clarke

Elenifit

Coach Kel (she posts what looks like more barre, ballet, pilates inspored/fusion workouts it seems)

Caroline Girvan

TRAIN WITH GAINSBYBRAINS

Daisy Keech

🎀 Current At Home Workout Equipment I Own

Thick Yoga Mat - since I do mainly yoga and pilates my thick yoga may (amazon brand) has served me well. Even tho I am a heavier woman at the moment, I've never had pain or any issues with this mat, and it came with a carry strap which I love! A good, thick workout mat is definitely necessary for working out at home for comfort, safety, etc. Make sure to disinfect it on occasion, especially if you sweat on it a lot!

Resistance Bands - I have about 3 or 4 at different resistance strengths, and they're incredibly useful for a variety of movements, especially lower body ones. They add some extra resistance and make the workouts a bit more challenging when you need something more advanced. I also got mine from Amazon/Walmart a while back. I prefer fabric over rubber because I like to wear workout shorts instead of workout leggings.

Pilates Ball - not a necessity, but useful with some pilates workouts and movements. I have seen sole videos using this, but am not advanced enough to try it on my own yet. Will use for sure once I'm more advanced.

3lb dumbbells - I thought these would be useful for the pilates workouts that had some upper body focus, and as someone who wants to develop a lean and toned upper body, they are perfect for low weight high rep, controlled movements. Again, not advanced enough to use as I want to master my form, but they're gonna come in handy for sure!

Foam Roller - so so good for stretching and muscle recovery on rest days. I love mine but want one that has the bump things on it to help my muscles more. I can imagine how good it'll feel on my legs during a recovery day when I begin wieght lifting again.

Massage Gun - my holy grail for the days I am sore and needing some recovery. my body feels like jelly after using this, and it's just so nice for the days my muscles feel extra tight and super sore.

🎀 Equipment I Want To Buy

Yoga Blocks - these will help me get deeper into the yoga poses once I get more advanced in my practice

Pilates Ring - this honestly looks so fun and challenging to use, I'd love to add it to my collection of useful workout equipment!

Jump Rope - I used to love this as a form of cardio and as long as I don't move into an upstairs apartment, I'm definitely buying one

Pilates Bar - still iffy on this one, it's supposed to mimic a reformer but I want to get better at mat pilates and see if I even end up ever needing or seriously wanting to buy it, its on my list tho

Ankle/Wrist weights - these are gonna be so useful for workouts where hand held dumbbells aren't useful. Want to buy some low weight ones just to help with resistance and extra strength during pilates workouts

Kettlebell weight - I think this would be useful for a workout at home type situation if and when I switch to not doing just pilates and yoga. I know these are useful in their own right, but not needed in my current fitness stage of life.

Core Sliders - these look fun and interesting. They're on my lost for sure, but not sure about the practicality of their use in my life just yet.

That's all that's currently on my at home workout equipment list! As someone who primarily works out at home, the things I currently own are most useful and most of what's on this list is for fun or extra challenge. Just not necessary yet.

hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any questions about my favorite youtuber workout instructors or favorite videos, please feel free to ask, I've tried so many and can give some guidance from my own experience and research.

til next time lovelies 🩷

[captain-hawks]

Thoughts on roommate!Karasu walking in on fem!reader masturbating on his bed? Maybe pillow humping?

(Really enjoy your writing style a lot btw. Idk how to explain it, it’s so eloquent)

karasu tabito x f!reader — 18+, and they were roommates, masturbation, pillow humping, fingering, squirting, thigh riding

it's not your finest moment that finds you in roommate's bed while he's out of town, admittedly.

but it's become a problem—this liquid warmth that persistently stirs in your gut in karasu's presence. this once vague, unshaped, mere passing interest that's carved itself into something far deeper and more profound this past year.

you were acquaintances when you took over the spare room in his apartment. a friend of a friend. and with how busy his football schedule keeps him (not to mention your uni classes), you anticipated easy, low maintenance cohabitation.

it was fine, until it wasn't.

until you became what could almost be considered intimately acquainted with the way his low, gravelly, sleep-rough voice echoes off of the walls of your small kitchen when you pass one another's orbit some mornings.

until you learned how his accent gets a little thicker when he's had a few drinks on the couch after a game.

until the sight of his soft, loose, wax-free hair around the apartment became more familiar than the way he styles it in public.

until he started laughing at your dumb jokes and staying up late when he's clearly exhausted after a game because he found you sprawled out in the living room stressed over an exam.

until you started to realize just how thin the walls in the apartment are late at night and learned just how his voice sounds when he's got a hand wrapped around his cock.

and now—

now—

now you're in his bed wearing nothing but panties and one of his jerseys.

(you should have taken the jersey back to your room after pilfering it from his closet. you could have. but he's been gone for a week and his room smells like his cologne and detergent. and you're stupid and weak and so fucking horny after watching his game today—)

you're in his bed with your phone propped up against one of the pillows, highlights from his match replaying on the bright screen.

when you're not pent up with more sexual frustration than your poor, overworked dildo is certified to handle after being stuffed in your cunt up to three times a day, you'll probably look back on this situation with something akin to mild horror.

you'll remember it—the way you've got the collar of karasu's jersey stuffed into your mouth, drool spilling down your chin as you moan. the way your panties are pulled taut, the lace soaked through and digging into your swollen, sensitive slit.

the way you're dizzy on the scent of your roommate as your peaked nipples brush against the fabric of his jersey.

the thing is, you'd really only intended to tease yourself atop his comforter. just enough to feel your clit begin to swell before letting your needy cunt find purchase in the stretch of the dildo waiting for you in your nightstand.

but then you put the stupid match highlights on and that goddamn play happened again. the play where karasu's shorts rode up and the camera zoomed in on his egregiously thick, muscled thighs. and you started absently rocking your hips against the pillow wedged beneath your abdomen.

then your clit caught the firm corner of the pillow and it felt so good—

you're beyond caring about the fact that karasu's pillow is now slick with your wet, sticky arousal as you continue to desperately hump it, whining and panting as you imagine that you're chasing your orgasm straddled atop one of his thighs instead.

all you care about is the hot, dripping need that your cunt is pulsing with, pleasure rapidly building in your gut as the mattress creaks in protest when your movements grow more frantic.

all that you want is—

"wow."

you freeze, panic seizing your chest.

he was supposed to be home tomorrow.

footsteps slowly traipse across the carpet until the mattress gently sinks on your left side. you don't turn to look at their owner.

"i—" your throat feels tight.

karasu leans into your space, head tilted sideways. "think this might be the hottest welcome home gift i've ever gotten."

you blink, turning your head just enough to see the smirk on his face.

"'n here i thought ya just didn't like my flirtin'" he sighs, chin in hand. "hiori told me ya were probably just shy, but that fucker otaya had me convinced ya weren't interested."

breathing in just enough air to keep your lungs going, you manage to get out, "are we really having this conversation right now?"

karasu shakes his head, "nah, you're gonna finish making a mess all over my pillow first. was rude of me to interrupt."

he grins.

you feel like a deer caught in headlights.

"unless ya want a little help—"

(you come facedown with your aching clit rubbing against his pillow and karasu's body folded over yours, his breath hot against the nape of your neck and two of his long fingers stuffed deep in your tight pussy from behind.

with "wanna feel the wet, pretty mess you leave behind for me" and "so fuckin' hot" and "good girl" murmured against the shell of your ear.)

(plans of fucking yourself on the thick erection pressed against the swell of your ass immediately after become a fleeting pipe dream when you squirt all over karasu's pillow and bed.

because he promptly comes in his pants while you're gasping his game.)

(he murmurs something about making it up to you as he tiredly pulls you on top of him, cum-soaked boxers and all. he kisses your temple and pats your hair and traces your lips, soft cock already twitching again as he slowly, lazily kisses you and rocks you on his thigh till you're coming all over again.)

[steviewashere]

Why didn't they steal shoes for Steve to wear from the Wheeler's house? Surely they could've found some pair of certified Dad sneakers that Ted has or something. Maybe they aren't the same shoe size, but I'm sure they could've found something that would've fit well enough rather than have Steve walk around with his bare feet on all that disgusting gunk. I'm sure he's got all kinds of wounds on his feet from having to walk on tree trunks and leaves and stuff, surely they could've wrapped them up and stuffed them in some sneakers.

Was he just driving that RV with bare feet, too? Considering he had that vest still up until they made it to the surplus store. And also, they were in somebody's actual home. That RV was somebody's home, surely they would've had something better than the scrap shirt pieces he was wearing on his wounds. And, thinking some more, there's no way in hell that he was just magically healed from those wounds—he was bleeding so much that he was woozy and nearly fucking collapsed.

Did they get him bandages from the surplus store? Is he still wearing scraps of shirt underneath that stupid camo thing? If so, surely that blood was seeping through the fabric. How did he not get sniffed out by demo creatures?

Nothing with the Upside Down nor his injuries make any goddamn sense. And I will write a Steddie missing scene where Steve gets properly taken care of because this is bullshit.

[bluejeanstrash]

inspired by this and this (sfw)

tags: idol! seungcheol x idol! reader, reader is a certified brat, brat taming, seungcheol and reader are hooking up, use of oppa and hyung, suggestive conversation | wc: 1.4k

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

seungcheol swears he’s mistaken when he hears the first paparazzi call your name. but there it is again, and again, and by the time the crowd is screaming hysterically, he’s sure it must be you. he turns around as he’s being escorted into the venue to see you on the red carpet, waving to the cameras, posing with a poise only a professional idol has. you look jaw-droppingly good, and he curses at the fact that he only got to see you for two seconds.

things work out in his favour though. he reaches his table to see a place card with your name on it. idols seated together. not a bad marketing decision.

unlike the vibrant red carpet, the inside of the venue is dim, a velvety purple hue painting the room, and there’s a dj whose set suits seungcheol’s taste. it’s nice being here after months of hiatus, and it would be even nicer if you’d get here quicker. your group and seventeen were contemporaries, and pretty good friends, though in the public eye it seemed like you’d barely interacted. everyone wanted to keep it that way.

finally, after what feels like hours, you walk in, heads turning as you make your way to the table. he checks you out, slowly this time, blown away by just how incredible you look. your dress is sensual yet subtle, and his hands are itching to feel the fabric, and you under it. you’re a few steps away when you pause, spotting him, equally surprised to see him here. you would rarely cross paths during schedules, so this was unusual.

respectful bows are exchanged before you take a seat. a waiter comes by to drop off glasses of champagne, and you take that as an opportunity to check seungcheol out. all black everything with faded auburn hair looks very sexy on him. you make a quick decision about what you want him to do to you in this outfit.

‘i didn’t know you were attending. just you?’ he asks politely, in stark contrast to how impolitely he'd fucked you the last time you met.

‘just me. just you?’

‘and wonwoo. wonwoo!’ seungcheol waves him down as wonwoo makes his way to the table, taking a seat to your other side.

‘hyung, they need you for some solo press’ he informs and seungcheol is escorted away by his manager.

in the 10 to 15 minutes that seungcheol’s gone, you make small talk with wonwoo, touching on agency-approved topics like comebacks, dance challenges, and the like. topics that wouldn’t cause an internet meltdown when someone would inevitably zoom into your lips and try to breakdown every word being said.

what you’d actually been dying to discuss with wonwoo was his latest fling, and why he’d ghosted them, but that’s filed away for another day.

seungcheol returns with a second drink in his hand, and message for wonwoo ‘wonwoo-ya, they’re calling you now. do well’ he encourages like always.

seungcheol takes a seat beside you, close enough to dispel any negative rumours and far enough to not get pulled into dating ones.

‘have you finished press?’

‘what?’ you lean forward, the music too loud to speak at a distance. he does the same, almost placing his hand on your thigh but he catches himself in the last second, closing his palm into a loose fist and resting it on the table. seungcheol repeats his question, and you nod. yes, you’re done with press.

‘there are way too many cameras here’ he recognises a few fans who run his biggest fansites, all “discreetly” pointing huge DSLRs in his direction. he has to be careful not to accidentally touch you. not to do something that makes both your names start trending tonight.

‘are you done with schedule? what are you doing after this?’ he gives your dress a once over, trying to figure out how to undo it. there’s a complicated knot at the back which makes him eager to try.

the corners of your mouth curl into a playful smile before you take a sip of the bubbly. the sparkling gold goes down easy, and your words come out smooth,

‘you’

his eyes widen as the gulp of champagne he’s taking enters the wrong pipe, sending him into a tiny coughing fit. his eyes dart around the room to see if anyone caught that.

he takes another sip to recover, regaining any composure lost. then he leans in, plump cherry lips brushing against your ear ‘don’t say shit like that when we’re in public or i swear to god’

he sits back, adjusting the fall of his suit, and runs his fingers nervously through his thick hair which bounces right back into place.

this time you lean in completely, seungcheol refusing to meet you halfway, your earrings dangling with the motion ‘or what? what’s oppa going to do to me? punish me for being bad?’ you have a dangerous lilt in your tone that makes his dick throb.

‘stop. it.’ he mouths a warning. as if that has ever made a difference.

to seungcheol’s surprise, you had turned out to be quite a handful. you were different from your idol image. same, but different. he’d liked you instantly when you’d met outside work at his manager’s party and one thing led to another till you both had hooked up. he couldn’t believe it. you were two of his favourite things — a brat and a nasty slut combined into one gorgeous woman, and seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.

though, right now he could, because at this moment you were a pain in the ass and a throb in his dick, both of which he couldn’t afford. it’s not like he could refuse to engage in conversation with you. how bad would that look? so he stays still, listening to whatever lewd filth you’re whispering into his ear.

‘oppa, you know that thing you said you wanted to try with me? you wanted to put it inside my…while you turned on the vibrator in my other hole? can we try it? please?’ you leave your words vague, his imagination running wild. he’s going to kill you. it can’t get any worse, he thinks, but then the music changes.

an rnb song. no, an rnb song that’s no. 24 on your blended spotify sex playlist. in a biological reaction that would make pavlov proud, his cock starts to stiffen in his pants from the very first note. he catches your eye, looking away instantly. this is bad. this is very bad.

in an attempt to hide the tent that’s pitching in his pants, seungcheol crosses one leg over the other, taking further precautions to cover his crotch with a drape of his arms. it’s clear to you what’s happening, and if it wasn’t obvious enough he starts bouncing his knee, moving it a million times a minute. he’d read somewhere it gets rid of an unwanted erection, but it seems to be doing jack shit.

you lean back, amused, smoothing a flyaway hair, and elegantly throw your sleek locks over your shoulder to reveal a hint of your cleavage. seungcheol has spent a lot of time in there — kissing, licking, sucking…and shooting cum on that strip of skin. you know what you’re doing. he knows what you’re doing. the waiter who just walked past knows what you’re doing. seungcheol makes a mental note to tell his manager not to book you both at the same event ever again.

he tears his gaze away from your chest, focusing on the table in front of him. how many overlapping stitches can he see? he counts.

but you’re not done yet. no, you want him riled up and pissed off. you want that vein in his neck to pop. you wonder if you can run the risk of sliding your foot up his leg. probably not, and yet a second later the point of your heel slides up the inner seam of his pants, making him jump in his chair.

his jaw clenches, his neck tightens ‘that’s enough, you fucking brat’ he spits, forgetting to lean in or hide his mouth.

you grin impishly, taking a congratulatory sip of your champagne. he doesn’t know this but you’re soaking wet, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your cunt. riling him up always made you leak arousal in anticipation for the impending punishment.

unfortunately, before you can get a teaser of what’s to come, wonwoo returns, walking alongside your manager. you’ve done your part, made your appearance, and it’s time to leave, he says. you say your goodbyes, first to wonwoo, and then turn to seungcheol who lets out a small huff of air before standing up. he smiles for the cameras and bows, glaring at you as you lock eyes and whispers,

‘you’re in so much trouble’

[rainrot4me]

Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 12

Jeff the Killer x TransMasc (FtM) Reader - Hair Pulling/Pegging

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Pegging, forced submission, hair pulling, mentions of injury, bottom Jeff, domination, cunnilingus, anal, rimming

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 3.8k

A/N: I didn't get to flourish out the reader being trans as much as I would have liked to, but I also felt like it not being an incredibly big writing point makes it more natural? IDK give me your thoughts and ways I can improve it please! I've never written a trans reader, but I wanted to try my hand at it!

Was it smart to get into a relationship where the two of you had insanely gigantic egos? No.

Did it make it much more satisfying to come out on top every time? Hell yeah.

“One more word, I dare you.” You spat. 

From anyone else’s perspective, your relationship with Jeff would seem toxic and demeaning, constantly bickering or knocking each other around to prove a point. Sure, it was far from healthy, but you could expect only so much from a certified lunatic.

“Or what? I’ll get time out?” The killer snickered, leaning back on your bed as he spread his legs wide, a disgusting grin on his face. 

“You’d get off to that, wouldn’t you? Bust a nut just from getting told to sit in the corner.” You scoffed, hauling your hoodie over your head and throwing the nasty fabric to the side, turning towards your bathroom to get a good look at yourself. Jeff was still smiling, chuckling to himself as he stood to follow you in. 

You both had just returned from a long night, bodies sore and heads pounding from overexertion, but that didn’t stop either one from throwing snotty remarks. 

Flipping the bright bathroom lights on, you glared at your reflection, gnarly bruises and scratches running up your chest and shoulders, the wounds still bright with irritation. Jeff sauntered in behind you, bright eyes roaming your bare back that you were sure looked much worse than your front. “Jesus, [Y/N], how did she even do all that?” He cringed, settling his rough hand on your shoulder to examine the litter of scratches all down your spine. You huffed, shoving his hand off and reaching for the faucet, running warm water as you grabbed a rag. 

It was embarrassing to admit that some lady, a younger police officer who tried to intervene in your mission, had banged you up bad enough while you tried to take her out. Maybe you would’ve let Jeff try to be sweet and clean you off, but the killer was the one who alerted the damn woman with his “go to sleep” bullshit. You got her off of you and delivered some nasty blows, but she got some good hits too, cutting up your skin with her nails. Jeff laughed the whole way home, throwing a shit-eating grin every time you glared at him.

Running the rag across your bare shoulders, you groaned, the small sting tolerable but definitely uncomfortable as you cleaned yourself up. Jack was out hunting, so you couldn’t get his professional opinion, but you deemed them not bad enough to get all the sterile stuff out. Rummaging the cupboard behind the mirror, you shook a few ibuprofen into your hand and called it a night. 

“Aw, won’t even let me bandage you up? C’mon now, baby…” Jeff sneered, trying his best to put on a sweet face as he ran his fingers down your back, tracing the skin right above the waistline of your jeans. You huffed, anger still boiling in the back of your mind despite the chills that littered your skin, your eyes trained on him in the mirror behind you. “Lay off, Jeffrey.” You tried to nudge back to your bedroom, your messy sheets and pillows practically calling your name, but Jeff wrapped his hands around your waist, tugging your back against him.

If there was one thing about the killer you could always count on, it was his unwavering ability to become insufferably horny after any mission. You chalked it up to the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, but he never failed to get all touchy whenever you both finally made it back to the mansion.

“Why so angry, babe? How ‘bout you put all that energy to good use, huh?” He smiled, pressing his nose behind your ear and kissing lightly, trying to switch up his annoying demeanor to coax you. He was always good at that, playing the nasty one until he decided he wanted to be sweet, using all the right moves and words to melt you down. Tonight, however, you felt just a little more ill than usual, body still wired with adrenaline and anger- it would take more than kisses up your neck to get you now.

Shifting your shoulder, you nudged him off, the gruff sigh from the killer annoyed that you didn’t immediately give in. How could you not? He was irresistible?! He followed you into the bedroom, tugging at the belt loop of your jeans and pouting when you refused to show him attention, or groaning when you ignored his hands pawing at your waist. All the usual hints that he wanted you weren’t working, and Jeff was becoming more frustrated by the second. “[Y/N]... C’mon…” 

You secretly smirked to yourself when he sat at the edge of your bed, rummaging through your dresser for clean clothes that weren’t matted with speckles of blood and dirt. He leaned back on his elbows, groaning about how stubborn you were being while you unbuttoned your jeans, shoving them past your hips. His grumbles quickly faltered, the only noise the shifting and settling of the mansion as he watched you kick your jeans off, snagging your fingers into the waistline of your boxers next. 

You heard Jeff sit up, your bed creaking under the weight when you pushed the fabric over your ass, bending just a little to tease and send a staggered breath from the killer. You smiled to yourself when you kicked your boxers off, bare back on display to him as you reached for your clean clothes, refusing to turn and even let Jeff think you were giving him what he wanted. He pushed off the mattress, feet creaking on the floorboards when you felt cold hands run across your waist again, his hips pressing against your ass.

“Baby…”

“Jeff, no.” It sounded a little cold, but you didn’t intend to let him think just because he wanted you, he was going to get you- he had to work for it.

He whines, a pout forming on his lips when he presses kisses against that same spot behind your ear. “C’monnn, you’re not gonna stay mad all night. Lemme make it up to you.” You raise a brow, refusing to show any interest as Jeff ruts his clothed bulge against your ass, mouthing kisses onto your shoulder.

Trying to pull your shirt over your head, the killer grumbles at your disinterest, trying to push his hands down to your sweet center and maybe coax you along, but being left unsatisfied when you elbow him off and step away. “Go jerk off in your own room, man. You’re not getting it for that fuckjob of a mission you pulled.”

Even if he did decide to leave, you would’ve rubbed one out yourself. You couldn’t deny how excited you got from seeing the oh-so-big-and-bad-killer start to whine and paw at you, desperation creeping in when his cock twitched uncomfortably in his jeans. He ground his teeth, stepping after you when you tried to climb into the bed, wearing nothing but a clean shirt as your ass swayed vulgarly. 

“Babe- c’mon… Sorry? Alright? I’m sorry for bein’ an ass- Just… please?” It was so satisfying to see him cling onto your hips, tugging you up off the bed and holding you close to his chest, his obvious boner pressing against the side of your thigh. You huffed, secretly smiling to yourself.

You would let him have it, but he wasn’t going to like it.

“Alright…” He perked up, kissing you across your shoulders again, before- “Grab the strap, then.”

His kisses faltered, letting off your skin to look you in the eyes, trying to gauge if you were being serious. You didn’t use it often, only daring one time to experiment, but ultimately deciding you both didn’t prefer it. It seemed appropriate now, your body flipping that anger into excitement when Jeff began to shake his head.

“Baby… You can’t be serious-”

“Go on, Jeff. You don’t get to choose right now.” You dropped your voice, a stern tone that made the killer stiffen up, shifting his weight back. He didn’t try to beckon, just let go of your hips and sheepishly knelt down, reaching under your bed. With heavy eyes, he grabbed the small tote you hid, popping the lid open to reveal the gaggle of toys you both had used on one another, the killer’s hands fishing for the dull pink strapon at the bottom. You leaned back on the bed when he held it out, shoving the box back under your bed and groaning when you took it from him.

You drug it out, slow and methodical movements when you dipped each leg into the holster, snugging the straps around your hips and tightening the clips. Jeff watched anxiously, sitting back on his haunches while his fingers gripped into his jeans, staring at the dildo you were adjusting at your crotch. The smooth base of the toy pressed against your cunt, settling against your clit in a way that made you huff a groan.

Tugging your shirt off, Jeff eyed your body, eyes roaming your chest and arms as you towered over him. You smiled down, sitting back against your bed and spreading your legs, the killer’s face a little more pale than before as you beckoned him closer. He hesitated at first, testing if you were really serious, but eventually shuffled forward onto his knees when you glared at him. 

The toy wasn’t incredibly big, just a little smaller than Jeff’s cock, but it was definitely more than he was used to taking. Jeff had no remorse in forcing himself into you inch by terrible inch, stuffing you to his heart’s content despite your raspy pleas to go slow. It felt appropriate to not give him the same luxury of being gentle.

“Hurry up. You wanna cum or not?” Jeff furrowed his brows, shifting his weight up to press his head just above the tip, eyeing you just once more as you smiled sickly. Soft groans leave your mouth as he flattens his tongue and licks at the head, saliva glistening across the silicone when he tries to wrap his lips around the tip. “Watch your teeth, yeah?” 

Maybe he would’ve made some sly remark about how it was just a toy and made fun of you, but you wrapped your hands into his hair, gripping the messy strands tight as you began to shove his head down. His neck was tense, mouth trying to accommodate the sudden intrusion as he gagged and choked around the length, trying to press back up. You held him, continuing to force him down until you felt his nose press against your hip, muffled coughing as his fingers dug into your thighs. Through the scars on his cheeks, you could see the toy going deeper, nestling itself into his throat as Jeff unhinged his jaw to accommodate. 

“Don’t fight me, Jeffrey.” You grovel, Jeff sitting up a little more as the toy presses hard against his tongue, you forcing the length to brush against the back of his throat. Tears well in his eyes, unable to breathe properly as his skin heats, flushed from the sudden overwhelm. He could try to resist, but you demanded his compliance, and honestly, that turned him on something terrible. “Always runnin’ your mouth, messing things up- this is what you get.”

A stark tug on his hair and he’s whining, bobbing up and down the length with heavy eyes, the lack of oxygen bringing him down from his domination a lot quicker than you expected. The sounds are so messy, spit building on his lips and glistening across the silicone every time his lips meet the head, tongue flattening across the divot in the tip and taking it like it was real. You moan at the sight, clit jerking every time the strap shifts and rubs just right.

Jeff’s head feels light, letting his jaw hang loose despite the war in his head telling him to get up and shove you off. He knows he could easily stop this, fight you off, and take what he wanted, but something in his likes how your eyes bore down at him as you own him, a claim being staked. He could fight, could deny ever enjoying it, but he couldn’t lie when your hips pressed off the mattress and began to snap into his throat, fucking the toy in haphazardly.

You enjoyed this a little too much too- the way your idiotically loud, egotistical, manic boyfriend loved to act like he was big and bad, but found himself falling apart, jaw slack, eyes rolling back while you used his throat. You fisted his hair hard, whining and gasping through slobbered gags every time you tugged the strands, forcing him to comply. Tears fall down his pale cheeks, sweat dripping down his forehead as you finally pop his head off, eyes hazy and heart thumping in his chest while you look down at him, satisfied with the state he’s found himself in.

“Hah- Hnn- Baby…” He pants, trying to catch his breath while you run your fist up and down the length, coating his saliva across the silicone and admiring the way it shines. You glance at him, face flushed and eyes heavy, hair still pulled back into your grip as his jaw hangs slack. “You… Wanna feel- hah- you…”

“You’re so fucking noisy. Babbling already and we’ve barely started.” That shuts him up, embarrassment heavy as he pants, trying to catch his breath. You tug him forward, holding his face close as you slap the toy across his cheeks, his spit smacking his skin lewdly, the killer tightening his face with the impact. 

“Up on the bed.” You stood, nudging him to climb up onto the mattress, but finding the killer reluctant. You eyed him, reaching for his jeans and slowly unbuttoning them, watching as his eyes lazily followed your movements. He reached for his shirt, hauling the fabric over his head when you helped him shove his pants off, kicking them to the side. His cock was heavy in his boxers, a wet stain where his tip twitched, huffing a low groan when you palmed at the length. “Up on the bed, now, m’kay?”

It took a moment, but reluctantly Jeff climbed up, shoveling his boxers off and groaning at his wilted cock, the tip a deep red. You pressed onto the bed, Jeff flipping over and whining into the sheets with embarrassment. He couldn’t stand how turned on he was, overwhelmed with the fact that he might’ve been enjoying this. “Quit bein’ a baby and acting like you aren’t enjoying this. I mean, look how hard you are.” It was like a stab in the gut, but Jeff couldn’t stop his cock from twitching at your tone.

He pressed his knees up, palms digging into the sheets as he climbed onto all fours, letting his spine drop the best he could and arching uncomfortably. You admired his effort, shifting behind him as you palmed at his skin, delivering hard grips to his ass. Jeff shuddered, body shaking slightly when he felt you lean down, breath tingling his skin as his cock hung between his legs.

“Get over yourself and just enjoy it, alright?” You huffed, pulling the plush off his ass apart and pressing in slow, a long stripe of your warm tongue across his hole. The killer choked, a gruff moan when you slowly lapped at him, trying your best to break that tension he held. Jeff tried not to fight, tried to listen to you and enjoy it, but found himself stiffer than ever, fingers digging into the sheets. You could feel it, his body so rigid as you kneaded his ass, moaning into the sweet taste.

You reached between his legs, wrapping your fist around his swelled cock and slowly stroking, his hips jutting with the stimulation. Jeff moaned, jaw hanging loose when you felt his hips jerk with every stroke, your grasp tight around his length while your tongue dipped shallowly into his fluttering hole. Your warm saliva coats him, opening up slowly for each tug you give his cock, the duality easing his body, arms shaky and weak as the killer tries to keep himself up.

Your tongue dips fully into the tight ring of muscle, lulling with a groan as how he eases up, pushing his ass back against you as precum dribbles onto your bedsheets, his loud gasps and groans teetering on the edge. “Baby… Yeah- Mhnn- Yeah-” Your own arousal throbs in your gut at his willingness, riding back across your tongue as he bites his lower lip, eyes closed in hard concentration. 

“My tongue too much, hm? Can’t hold on much longer?” You kiss along his ass, hand still slowly stroking his cock just enough to have his hips stutter for more. The killer nods, quiet moans as his thighs tremble and clench, arms daring to give out. “Then maybe you need something bigger? Isn’t that right?” Jeff tries to retort, pushing up a little, but you’re already sitting up behind him, grasping his hips hard enough to bruise.

You teasingly draw circles around the rim, Jeff shivering, hole quivering at the cold feeling of mixed saliva slipping between his ass. He moans out, arms finally giving as his chest hits the mattress, face smashed into the sheets.

Arching his back stiffly, he grinds his ass back against the toy prodding at his asshole, muffled gasps when he feels you begin to press in, the head slowly disappearing into his tight hole. Jeff tries to keep his flushed face hidden in the sheets, biting into the fabric to sheath any terrible noises that erupt, but finds himself needing to look back at you.

He shifts, lying the side of his head out as he looks back over his shoulder, your face hard in concentration while you slowly bob your hips back and forth. The stretch is nauseating, shocks of pain and glorious pleasure running up his body every inch you try to sink in deeper, bully past that pesky resistance he’s still holding onto. “Open up f’me, Jeff. You said you wanted to feel me, didn’t you?” You teased, glancing up at him with a slurred smile.

“Ah! Please, baby.”

“Please what? Use your words, Jeff.”

“Please. Wanna cum so bad.”

Sweat dribbled down your brow, fingers grasping his hips with a bruising intensity that had his skin red with irritation. His walls flutter, hole clenching painfully on the toy that is only mere inches from the hilt. Jeff feels so full, so painfully full he thinks he’s going to snap. You take the opportunity, pulling your hips back before pushing back forward, watching as his hole stretches to accommodate, just to suck you all back in again. It’s a mouthwatering sight.

“Fuck! Baby, yeah-” Jeff curses the puny tone to his voice, desperation guiding his hips to fuck back onto the toy, the length brushing that sweet spot nestled deep inside. His cock is leaking something terrible, you barely thrusting but it feels like you're slamming into him, bullying your anger into his submission. You know all the ways to make him tick, all the ways to brush your hands up his back and make chills graze his skin, his gut heavy with arousal.

You don’t have to move anymore, Jeff is practically doing all the work for you. He can complain in his head all he wants, but it’s his ass that’s bouncing back onto your hips with loud, syrupy whines. His cock slabs against his abdomen, the squelch and smacking as he fucks himself raw, his head nearly spinning with haziness. “I wan- I wanna cum, please, babe.” He gasps out, teary eyes blown and looking up at you so desperately, face so messy.

You leaned in, pushing his hips down and resting your weight on top of him, bringing your hips up just to slam right back down into him with a choked moan. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging his head up and back as you forced him to look at you. “Do you think you deserve to? After how you treated me today?”

Jeff hesitated, breathy moans as you rutted your hips down, grinding the toy into him and bumping against his prostate. He finally shook his head, gritting his teeth when you leaned in to press a sloppy kiss on the back of his neck, tugging on his hair. You were just surprised he gave you the answer you wanted, finally breaking past his egotistical cumdrunk self and letting you diminish him. It was satisfying, it was arousing.

You sat back, hauling his hips with you and reaching around his waist, snagging his cock into your fist and jerking as rhythmically with the thrust of your hips as you could. Jeff moaned loud, grappling at the sheets as you bounced his ass back, finally loosening up enough to take the toy to the hilt. 

“You wanna cum, Jeff?” You huffed, knocking the head of the toy against his prostate, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure through his body. Was he drooling or were those tears? He didn’t know, but he could barely choke out his answer.

“Yes.”

“Then cum.”

Maybe it was the glint of fondness in your eyes, or the pierce of your fingernails digging into his hips, but Jeff is immediately snapping back onto your hips, reaching his climax. Poor, exhausted cock throbbing and cumming dry, stripes of hot white onto your bedsheets below. “Ah- Cumming- M’cumming hgnh-”

Head still reeling, the killer can do nothing else but lay there limply, exhausted and fucked out of his mind as you slowly remove yourself from his clenching hole. He’s never felt so vulnerable, so ruined.

As you tenderly roll him over, he’s still panting, heart thudding so hard in his chest that you swear you can hear it. You let the strap fall from your hips, shimmying the toy off and slowly climbing up onto his thighs, straddling his limp hips.

Jeff was never a one-and-done kind of lover, rallying for two or three rounds every chance he got, so why wouldn’t you give him the same luxury? A taste of his own medicine should keep him pliable for weeks, you think.

Settling your hips out, Jeff jerks when you grab his cock, the length still flinching with postorgasmic swells as you slowly press down onto the head, Jeff hauling up. He watches through tear-soaked eyes, that later he will swear never happened, as your bulbous clit throbs with arousal, shifting your weight down to feel him sink inside of your warmth.

“[Y/N]- Wait, wait, woah-” He cries out, gripping his hands onto your hips as you begin to slowly rut yourself down. “Did I say we were done? You wanted to feel me,” He gasps, throwing his head back with a strangled moan. “So lay back and take it, Jeffrey.”

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

[viennakarma]

jenson is soooooo dilf with young baddie gf 😩 it never makes him insecure just possessive! he would never ask her to change her outfit <3 he is hyper aware of other men staring while she doesn’t even notice, just lowers his hand on her waist. he is eating out king for sure

Dilf Jenson is a certified munch

Tags: Jenson Button blurb, smut, oral, minor creep hitting on reader

When he took you to a sponsor event, the moment he saw you in a minidress, that one style that falls like a flimsy little fabric shaping your body. He smiled as you twirled around for him, asking about your outfit and he swore he could drag you back to bed that very moment.

As you two got to the event, he saw every man there desire you the moment you stepped in. Even throughout the night, when he introduced you as his girlfriend, some men were brave enough to try and subtly flirt with you, but you didn’t seem to notice their advances.

Jenson didn’t dare leave your side the whole night. But unfortunately, there was a moment you had gone to the toilet, and as you came out, an older man cornered you on the way out. Jenson went there immediately, but when he got there you were looking at the man as if he had grown a second head, your eyes carrying some confusion as if you didn’t understand how a man like that would try and flirt with you when your boyfriend is so much more than him. As Jenson approached he could hear you tell the man exactly that. The man still tried to touch your waist and you just reeled back and punched him on the face.

Your boyfriend immediately took you away when the security started to take the man away. Jenson sat with you on the bar, holding a makeshift ice pack against your bruising knuckles as he tried really hard not to show how the sight of you defending yourself from a creep had left him half hard.

When you two finally left the event, Jenson was desperate to get you away, he couldn’t wait anymore, so he had you bent over the hood of his pretty Mercedes, kneeling behind you as he ate you out like a man starved. He sounded desperate as he spoke against your soppy cunt, sucking and slurping as he talked about how much his pretty little girl was sexy, defending herself, praising her boyfriend. After you came, your clit against his tongue as he licked you clean, you two got in the car and he drove off, telling you how much of a good girl you were and how he’d get rewarded back home, the whole night.

[em1i2a3]

Girls Like You (Continuation of My Desire)

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader (Ex-HYDRA)

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Violence, Blood, Gore, PTSD, Swearing, Description of Injuries and Harm to Characters, There is a self inflicted injury (by accident), Bucky goes through it again and it is quite a rough one for our dude, Angst, yknow what? The characters are kinda having a bad time for a great portion of this but we got a happy ending? That’s good. WS!Bucky makes an appearance.

Smut Warnings: Some good old fashioned lovemaking, Unprotected P in V Sex (wrap it up y’alllllll), Oral Sex (f! Receiving), Praise Kink, Biting, Marking, Choking (if you squint), Restraining (if you squint), Nipple Play, Fingering, Scratching (with intent to mark), Grinding, a little bit of a cum kink? Kind of?

Author’s Note: All I want to say is…Holy Crap. Thank you for the overwhelming response to ‘My Desire’! I wanted to give y’all what you guys were requesting, and I have decided to add a second part to this story! It took a hot minute and I apologize for that (I had a lot of ideas for this and needed to settle on something, and on top of that I wanted to try and do the story some justice), I also took a few liberties here for the story, nothing too major but I am hoping it is okay :) I hope everyone enjoys it, and thank you again <3 :)

Word Count: 24,961 (CERTIFIED YAPPER RIGHT HERE LOL)

PART ONE IS HERE: My Desire

After the third round, your body had given you no choice but to surrender, every muscle ached with the sweet burn of overuse, every nerve ending tingled like it hadn’t gotten the memo that it was time to come down. Somehow, though, you’d summoned the strength to peel yourself from the warmth of the bed to tug on a pair of underwear, followed by one of Bucky’s shirts, it was soft, oversized, and infused with his sweet scent; pine, sage, and lavender, the perfect mixture that almost brought you to intoxication. It was an attempt, however feeble, to reclaim a bit of control over the morning. To ground yourself again after hours spent unraveling at his hands.

The light creeping through the curtains was dim and gold, casting long shadows across the tangled sheets and the bruises that were peppered across your skin, marks from where his mouth had been, where his fingers had gripped, where you’d lost yourselves in each other again and again. You pushed your disheveled hair out of your face, the movement revealing a dark bite mark just below your ear.

Bucky’s eyes tracked the shift in the fabric of your shirt like a predator drawn to the scent of something familiar. He was lying back against the headboard, his hair a tangled mess, his chest flushed and still rising with the aftermath of exertion. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, and his gaze held the kind of smug amusement that made you want to either roll your eyes or kiss him breathless. Maybe both.

“You’re looking a little too proud of yourself over there” You murmured, climbing onto the bed, your voice lacking the typical bite it usually had, crawling on your hands and knees towards the pillow beside him. You collapsed onto your side, your gaze looking out the window, needing a second to just breathe. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, even though the sheets were still warm from where his body had been just moments ago, writhing beneath you.

A soft chuckle vibrated through the mattress, low and intimate.

You didn’t have to look to know he was moving. You felt the bed dip, his weight shifting closer. Then, his vibranium arm, cool and smooth, slipped beneath the hem of your borrowed shirt. His fingers found your hip first, brushing gently over the tender, bruised skin there. Then he slid further, wrapping his arm all the way around you, pulling you against his chest like you belonged there. Which, at this point, he had staked his claim enough that you were practically branded.

A quiet huff escaped you, more amused than annoyed. His vibranium hand fanned out across your stomach, the coolness of it displaying a startling contrast to the fire he’d left in his wake. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along your skin; squares, triangles, swirls, anything his mind could think of before circling your navel like he wasn’t aware of what it was doing to you.

But of course he was. It was obvious.

“Bucky…If you keep touching me like that I’m going to break your fingers.” You warned against the pillow, the butterflies in your stomach twisting, already responding to his touch, just like it had the past three rounds. His nose brushed against your neck, his warm breath sticking to your skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface of your flesh.

”I think we both know you like my fingers far too much for you to actually break ‘em huh?” He responded, punctuating the statement by placing a gentle, open mouthed kiss to your bruised neck, a smile draped on his lips, your jaw tightening at the wetness he left with his tongue.

“Wasn’t three rounds enough?” You asked, now turning onto your back so you could look at him. He shook his head.

”I did tell you in the shower that I would want you like this every day didn’t I?” You let out a small laugh, your eyes scanning over the damage you had done to him last night, how the bite marks and bruises were already fading away, slowly but surely, disappointed that his work would be on you for longer, knowing it took you just a little longer to heal.

”Bucky…We’ve been having sex for hours at this point, I’m pretty sure you’ve thrown me into enough positions that the Kama Sutra would be embarrassed…You’re just overindulging now.” He grinned at your comment, his cheeks heating up thinking about what had transpired during the night, his fingers trailing over the waistband of your underwear.

”If that’s overindulgence I will proudly continue to partake.” He responded. You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already leaning down, catching your lips in a kiss that was a complete departure from the hunger of the hours before. This one was slow. Reverent. The kind of kiss that made your chest ache and your heart thrum painfully in your ribs. You whimpered softly into his mouth, your hands instinctively threading through the thick mess of his hair as you kissed him back, already melting into the weight of him pressing down on you. Bucky shifted slowly, the mattress dipping with his movement, slotting himself between your thighs like he belonged there. Your legs parted easily to accommodate him, the soreness barely a blip beneath the heat curling up in your belly all over again. He cushioned his hips against yours, his body settling over you like a heavy, protective blanket, in an attempt to mold himself to the shape of you.

When he pulled back from the kiss, his lips hovered a breath from yours, the heated air from him filling your lungs.

”Can I take this as a sign we can go for round four?” You let out a small laugh of disbelief, tilting your head back against the pillows to get a better look at him. You could see the way his cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, pupils blown wide with the hunger you had seen the entire night.

”Do you have an unlimited stamina cheat code from the serum or something? How are you not the least bit exhausted?” Bucky shrugged, a toothy smile coming up on his mouth.

”Sweetheart…I don’t need a cheat code, I could do this forever.” He whispered, his lips skimming your jaw, lingering for a few seconds, then traveling downward, pausing just above the scattered constellation of purple and red marks he’d left on your neck. His mouth ghosted over them with a feather-light touch, kissing the aftermath of his work, admiring the wreckage he’d caused. You sighed, the sound slipping involuntarily from your lips as his hand slid to your hip, anchoring you beneath him like he couldn’t bear the thought of you slipping away.

”Of course you could.” You murmured under your breath, feeling him gently tug at the collar of your shirt, the fabric shifting to expose more surface area to him. His mouth latched onto the skin, grazing it with his teeth, your fingers curling into his messy, tangled strands of hair that were still damp at the ends from the shower you shared, and possibly from him sweating.

”You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He teased, his words warm against your skin. You shuddered at the way his breath tickled across your sensitive flesh, his tongue poking out to trace over the bruises he had left hours ago.

“I’m…I’m just saying,” You stuttered, feeling his weight press into you as he adjusted himself, “If you weren’t a super soldier I’d be worried for your heart.” His laugh vibrated through you, continuing to trail down your body, keeping eye contact, reading every expression that came up on your face.

”That’s cute you care about me possibly having a heart attack on top of you.” He joked, reaching for the hem of your shirt, pushing it up to expose your stomach to him, as he peppered kisses along the soft flesh. “While I may be old in theory, my body is still young and it’s always ready to please.” He continued, his eyes watching you closely, seeing your lashes flutter at the sensation of his lips touching your skin, your body arching slightly to chase his movements.

“Always ready to please, huh?” You joked, scratching at his scalp with your nails, his eyes closing at the chill that raced up his spine.

“Mhm.” He responded, his lips moving towards your hip bone, his teeth gently nipping at the muscle, “I take my work very seriously.” You bit your lip, feeling him tug at your waistband to expose more skin to him, a soft moan escaping you, feeling him suck on the little fingerprint marks he had left while you were on top of him just half an hour ago.

”I’ve noticed.” You commented breathlessly. Bucky smirked against your skin, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear, pulling ever so slowly, teasing, testing-

RING RING RING.

You both froze in place, the intimacy in the air immediately being sucked out of the room, even though you were still burning from the inside out, longing for him to continue. Bucky let out a frustrated groan, dropping his forehead against your stomach, the reality suddenly setting in for the both of you.

”Nooooo.” Was all he could muster to say, as you reached blindly for the phone with your free hand, hoping it was going to be a quick conversation. You didn’t even look at the caller ID when you answered.

“Yea, hello?” You greeted, sitting up slightly.

”Wow, don’t you sound chipper this morning.” Natasha’s voice echoed over the other end of the line. You closed your eyes, feeling Bucky's hot breath still hitting your stomach, his vibranium hand remaining on your outer thigh, tracing over the three scars that marked your skin, like he was waiting for the conversation to be done so the both of you could get back to what you were doing.

”Nat? What are you doing calling at this time?” You asked, looking down at Bucky, who’s eyebrows raised slightly at the question.

”Well, Maria called me yesterday and asked if I would be willing to fly over there to extract the both of you, she said the sooner the better, so Steve and I decided to come down to get you guys. We just arrived in Vienna.” You felt your stomach plummet to the floor, seeing Bucky’s head shoot up from where he was, his eyes wide with horror, your hand unraveling from his hair.

“They’re here?” He mouthed, watching you nod slowly.

“Oh that’s great…Just landed right?” You asked, your voice rising in pitch slightly.

“Yeah, we are about twenty minutes away from the hotel, depending on how fast Steve drives of course.” You forced a laugh at her comment, trying to sound as natural as possible.

“Oh great, well hopefully Steve’s driving doesn’t get you too angry and he gets you guys here in twenty minutes.” You shot a look at Bucky who was staring at you like you had personally ruined his life.

”Twenty minutes?” He mouthed dramatically again, you nodded, now putting your hand over his lips so you weren’t distracted by him. Bucky said something which muffledb something against your hand, causing you to press your palm against his mouth just a little harder.

“Well, we’ll see you soon then!” You added, trying to cut the call as soon as possible so the both of you could scramble to get ready.

“…Are you alright? You sound a bit odd. You didn’t kill Bucky did you?” She asked, trying to make a joke even though she still sounded suspicious. Bucky bit down on the inside of your palm, just enough to make you flinch, smacking him on the arm, seeing a dumb smirk drawn up on his lips.

”Yeah, I’m alright. No, I didn't kill Bucky. It was a long night, so I’m just exhausted that’s all. Can’t wait to see the both of you though. I’m gonna start getting ready.” You announced, looking at your hand, seeing the little teeth marks in your skin, shooting Bucky a death stare.

”Alright. See you soon.” Natasha said, the suspicion still lacing her voice, reluctantly taking your answers at face-value, as you hung up, throwing the phone onto the entanglement of sheets at the foot of the bed.

“We are fucked.” Bucky announced, flopping onto his back, like a man accepting his fate.

“No Bucky, we are not just fucked…We are going to be crucified for the rest of our lives, we will never live this down.” You explained, rubbing your head as you got up off the bed, fixing your underwear and shirt quickly.

”Crucified is a bit dramatic I think.” Bucky responded, “Also, I doubt that Nat and Steve will really care about our sexual escapade, but we definitely won’t be able to live it down like you said..” You raised your eyebrows at him, dragging your suitcase towards you, digging around for a change of clothes.

”Bucky…I had a blood thirsty grudge against you no less than 48 hours ago give or take…Natasha is going to have a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that we suddenly had sex in under a day or two of being in each other's presence. She will be concerned about the change.” Bucky shrugged.

”So you have to tell her the truth…That’s all.” You huffed at how he said it so simply, like it was going to be easy. You tossed a pair of jeans onto the bed, before rummaging through the suitcase for a sweater, finding the simple high collar zip-up that was going to be fitting for hiding the marks that enveloped the skin of your neck, throwing it on top of the jeans, before turning your back towards him.

”And what exactly is the truth? That I invited you to shower with me? That I had a lapse of judgement all night?” He sighed, watching you peeling off his shirt. His eyes dropped down immediately to the deep, red scratches that ran down the length of your back, scattered all over the place in frantic patterns. He could feel his breath hitch in his chest as you threw his shirt over to him, snapping him out of the moment. Quickly he slipped the top on over his frame, adjusting it over his chest, taking in the warmth that you had given it before getting off the bed to stretch out his sore limbs.

“Hey, let’s not backtrack here and pretend that was just a lapse of judgement,” He murmured, grabbing your sweater from the bed, stepping towards you slowly, watching you find a pair of socks, “You didn’t look like you were regretting it when you had your nails scraping down my back and you were saying-.” You straightened up and spun on your heels so fast that you nearly knocked into him, placing your hand against his sternum to stop him from getting any closer.

”Don’t finish that sentence please…” You said, your cheeks heating up beneath his mischievous glare, he raised his hands in fake surrender.

”Alright…Alright,” He said, stifling a grin, “I’ll spare your dignity for now…But for the record, I think that moment was the highlight of my night.” He added, unfolding the sweater, “Now…Let me help you get this on.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

”I’m pretty sure I can dress myself.” He shook his head.

”Not right now you can’t, c’mon…Arms up, don’t make me wrestle you.” You rolled your eyes at him, unable to fight off the smirk that was coming up on your lips. You obeyed the request, lifting your arms with a dramatic groan.

”You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Oh absolutely.” He said without missing a beat, slipping the sweater over your head, his knuckles grazing your ribs as he pulled the fabric down slowly, your head popping out from the top of it. With a careful hand he smoothed the material over your body, like he was tucking you in, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Might be my new favourite thing…Dressing you after undressing you…I mean talk about full circle.” He joked, letting his hands linger just a second too long on your waist. You narrowed your eyes at him.

”You’re ridiculous.” You muttered, fighting a grin, watching him reach for the zipper, his gaze lingering on the scar between your chest, the bruises that lingered across it, where he had kissed and sucked with such reverence.

”I might be…” His voice dipping, his eyes raising back to yours, the both of you exchanging heated glances at one another, communicating without words, your eyes softening at the way he looked at you, his hand bringing the cold metal up your chest, the sound of the teeth catching rhythmically in the silence.

“But you’re still letting me help you are you not?” He added, watching the fabric effectively cover all the marks he had made on you. He didn’t step back right away, he stayed in your space, his eyes roaming over yours. His thumb grazed just below your jawline, feeling the warmth radiating from your skin, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. He sighed, like he was giving into all his wants and desires, reaching up with his vibranium hand to cup your cheek, caressing it gently, the coolness providing a relief from the heat that you could barely control at this point. You leaned in, seeing him mirror your actions, taking the opportunity to get the last few touches and kisses in before Steve and Natasha’s arrival.

The kiss was soft, not like the ones from last night which were frantic and breathless. It was slow, intentional, sensual even. You brought your hand up to his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, to hold him in place. Bucky hummed against your lips, deepening the kiss, tilting his head to fit you better, his nose brushing against yours as he shifted closer.

The intimacy of the moment made you feel dizzy, not because it was heated, but because it was tender, gentle, and all consuming.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered over yours, breathing you in shakily.

”Are you sure we can’t squeeze in another round?” He whispered, his lips brushing against yours, voice low and hopeful like a prayer. You could hear the teasing laced into his words, but the way his thumb traced idle circles along your hip told you he was only half joking.

”You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Bucky pulled back slightly, a pout forming on his lips, acting wounded.

”I’m just saying! We have…” He paused, spinning the both of you around so he could see the alarm clock on the nightstand, “A solid fifteen minutes before Steve and Natasha arrive.” You arched a brow at him, holding onto his shoulders.

”And what do you think you’ll be able to achieve in fifteen minutes, you little sex addict?” Bucky’s smile turned wicked.

“I can think of a lot of things,” He whispered, letting his hands sneak beneath the hem of your sweater, his fingers splaying warmly across your bare skin. His thumbs brushed lazy lines along your waist, and he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just let me prove it to you.” He added, his breath hot against your skin. Your cheeks flushed, heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked up at him. His pupils had blown wide again, swallowing up most of the blue in his eyes, and the intensity of it made your stomach twist with butterflies all over again.

”How about you hold yourself together for the day, and we can figure something out for tonight huh?” He raised his eyebrows, tracing his vibranium fingers across your back.

”Are you trying to bargain with a man who’s on the brink of starvation?” You gave him a pointed look, sliding your hands down to rest on his chest, gently giving him a little push to widen the space between the both of you.

“Bucky, it’s been forty five minutes…Maybe an hour since we last had sex…I’m very sure you’re not on the brink of starvation.” He gave you a sheepish smile, as his hands dropped to his sides in exaggerated defeat.

“Fine…At least I tried.” You let out a soft laugh, stepping back to grab your jeans from the bed.

”Yeah. Tried and failed.” You teased, as Bucky’s eyes watched you, scanning the curve of your hips as you stepped into your jeans, tugging them up with a practiced hop and wiggle, buttoning them and zippering the zipper, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth, leaning against the wall behind him. You raised your eyebrows at him.

”You done cataloguing my every move?” Bucky tilted his head, an unapologetic look of admiration glossing over his eyes.

”I was just trying to appreciate the art before the exhibit closes.” Your lips twitched slightly, as you grabbed your socks.

“The exhibit is just taking a brief intermission.” You shot back, taking a seat on the bed.

”Good,” He said, dragging his eyes over you once more, “Because I want a private tour later, full access.” You snorted, pulling on one sock, shaking your head with a smile of disbelief tugging at the corners of your mouth.

”My goodness,” you muttered, glancing over at Bucky, “How the hell are you going to pull off pretending you hate me if you’re all mush right now?” He raised an eyebrow at your question.

”I’ve still got some Winter Soldier kicking around in me, and I’ve also got a good poker face…I think I’ll be able to slip into the role very easily.” You let out a small laugh, tugging your second sock on.

”Not when you’re undressing me with your eyes Bucky.” He gave a shrug.

”It’s called multitasking. One of my many talents, right up there with marksmanship, espionage, and making you moan my name.” You grabbed a pillow and lobbed it at him, seeing him catch it without even trying, a small laugh escaping his throat, tossing it to the floor. You could feel the heat inch up your neck, encompassing the skin on your cheeks, burning from his little quips.

“Go open the window over there, we need to air out the room.” You muttered using the heady scent of the room as an excuse to cool yourself down while you reached to grab your black combat boots.

”Yes ma’am,” He smirked, padding over to the window, tugging the sheer curtains aside, unlatching the glass before pushing it open. A cool breeze swept into the room instantly, chasing away the thick scent of sweat and sex that clung to the sheets, blowing his hair back.

“Hopefully that will get rid of the Eau de Bucky.” You teased, pulling on your boots, tying them tight in double knots before standing to your feet and brushing the invisible dust off your jeans. Bucky glanced over his shoulder, one brow raised, his eyes shining with amusement.

”Eau de Bucky…Is an extremely limited edition fragrance, and it leaves a lasting impression, or so I’ve seen.” He commented, stepping away from the window, tousling his hair in an attempt to straighten it out and make it look less messy. You reached into your bag and retrieved your comb, tossing it to him in silence before turning your attention to the bed. In no orderly fashion you fixed the sheets and the duvet, trying to smooth everything down as much as possible to hide the evidence of what the night had brought to the both of you, there was a slim chance that Natasha would be roaming around the room but you thought you’d take all precautions just to be safe. You took one step back, surveying the room like it was a crime scene that you were trying to clean up in a hurry.

”Not too bad.” Bucky murmured behind you, catching your eyes in the reflection of the mirror, his hair now back to semi-normal, framing his face. He moved towards you, approaching slowly and gracefully like he was being pulled into your orbit. A small smile drew up onto his lips when his chest met yours, his arms immediately draping around your waist, his hands finding their place on your hips. He didn’t squeeze the sensitive flesh, he just held, his fingers twitching against you. You closed your eyes for a beat, exhaling slowly, trying to keep yourself composed.

”We really can’t be doing this right now…” You whispered, your voice sounding far less convincing than it was meant to be. When you opened your eyes he was already looking down at you, pupils blown wide, the thin blue ring around it shimmering, his eyes scanning over every detail of your face.

“I know…Just give me a minute okay?” You opened your mouth to say something, but couldn’t find a reason to protest, so you gave in, bringing your hands to rest against his chest, your fingers fanning over the smooth cotton of his shirt, his expression softening.

Then, with no rush at all, he bent his head and kissed you.

It was soft and slow, a gentle meeting of mouths that made your knees threaten to buckle all over again. Your hands curled into his shirt, gripping tight, like part of you already missed him even though he hadn’t gone anywhere.

His mouth moved with intention, savoring. One hand slipped up from your hip to cradle the back of your head, holding you steady as he pulled back to tilt his head, kissing you again, this time allowing it to deepen and last just little longer so that the both of you were desperate for one another. He was on a mission to remember exactly what you tasted like before everything between you had to be hidden behind sharpened words and narrowed eyes again, and he was exceeding his goals tenfold. Your hands slid up his shirt, arms curling around his neck to bring him closer, a gentle moan escaping his throat as his fingers tightened at your waist.

Then a soft knock at the front door tore the moment apart. You froze against him, pulling away, lips still parted and swollen, your heart slamming into your ribs like it was trying to escape. He gulped, pressing his forehead to yours, exhaling a curse under his breath.

“Perfect timing, as always.” He whispered, you narrowed your eyes at him, reluctantly pushing at his chest.

”Get your game face on, Barnes.” He stepped back, the warmth of his hands leaving you. You watched him closely, as he wiped his bottom lip off with his thumb before dragging his palm down his face, like he was scrubbing the softness off him, following behind you while you made your way towards the door.

Another knock echoed through the room, this one a little more firmer than the last.

”Alright, alright,” You muttered, glancing over your shoulder, seeing that Bucky was over by the kitchenette, leaning against the counter, his jaw set, eyes ice cold, back in character. You took a deep breath, unlocking the door and swinging it open.

”Hey,” You greeted, being met by Steve and Natasha at the door, the both of them looking content but slightly impatient. They looked like they had a night, and the lack of sleep was apparent in their eyes. You stepped aside, letting them into the suite with a polite smile.

”Took you guys long enough,” Bucky commented, his tone dry and mocking, as he opened up the mini fridge, searching for something, like he was trying to distract himself from looking over at you.

”Blame Steve, he’s the one that still doesn’t know how to drive properly.” Natasha shot back.

”I was going the speed limit…” Steve corrected, his soft blue eyes scanning the room in bewilderment, surprised at how large and fancy the entire place really was.

”That’s the problem,” Natasha commented, also admiring the scale of the room and it’s setup, “If we were any slower, we’d have to fucking crawl Rogers.” Steve sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck, as Natasha strolled further into the suite, her eyes scanning every inch of the space like she was a detective, which in some ways she was.

“You guys really lucked out on the accommodations,” Steve commented, peeking into the bedroom, your spine immediately tensing, you were praying that he didn’t see anything odd, or any proof that you shared a bed. You wrung your hands together, drawing your attention back to Natasha, seeing her eyes land on the finished champagne and whiskey bottles, the empty glasses, and the array of minis that had been drained.

“Did you guys decide to go on a bender or something? What’s with all the alcohol?” She questioned, her eyes shooting between both you and Bucky, watching him pull a bottle of water from the fridge, cracking the cap in one go.

“How else did you think we refrained from killing each other?” Bucky replied quietly, taking a sip from the bottle. Natasha crossed her arms over her chest.

”So you want us to believe that the two of you were just civil the entire time you were here and didn’t have a total scrap?” She asked, as Steve brought your duffel bag out of the bedroom, dropping it to the ground with a thud.

“I’m pretty sure one of us would be dead if there was a scrap…And it certainly wouldn’t have been me.” You commented, shooting a pointed glance in Bucky’s direction, trying to ignore his lips turning up behind the rim of his water bottle.

”Not with that shaky left hook of yours,” Bucky muttered, twisting the cap back on, his eyes going over to Natasha, “I had plenty of opportunities to take her down, I thought I was being nice by not doing so…Guess I should’ve taken my chances huh?” He asked, almost as if to mock her.

”You’d be face down on the carpet crying for Steve if you tried to lay a finger on me, so you should be grateful you didn’t press your luck, old man.” Bucky let out a soft laugh, and just as he was about to rebuttal, Steve interrupted.

”How are the both of you still on the hate train? You would think you would’ve gotten it all out of your systems by this point.” He said, exhausted, picking up your bag from the floor, “You guys better not be like this on the jet ride home, or else I’m going to rip my hair out.”

”No promises,” You and Bucky said in near unison, eyes immediately flicking to each other for a fraction of a second before quickly looking away. Natasha didn’t miss it, of course she didn’t, her lips turning up into a knowing smirk, one that could unearth secrets quicker than any truth serum on the market. She didn’t say anything, but she watched the two of you like she was reading the final chapter of a mystery novel she had solved halfway through. Steve sighed, picking up your duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder with ease.

”Alright you two, let’s get the hell out of here, the sooner we get in the air, the sooner the both of you can go back to living your separate lives.” Bucky moved quickly, grabbing his own bag from where he had left it near the couch, his fingers flexing slightly around the strap as he adjusted it over his broad shoulder, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth for a split second, a memory of the grasp he had on your hips the night before popping into your head, but you pushed it out quickly, making your way out of the room.

As the hotel door clicked shut behind the four of you, the warm hush of the luxury suite was replaced by the sterile chill of the marble hallway. You adjusted the strap of your bag, catching Bucky’s eye for half a heartbeat as you stepped into the elevator. Neither of you said a word, but the heat from that glance lingered, like a promise. After the flight. After the debrief. You’d see each other again, and be wrapped up in the ultraviolet rays of your lust that burned between the both of you.

The two of you stood behind Steve and Natasha in the elevator, trying to keep some distance between each other, the silence being filled only by the soft hum of the machinery. You could feel the faint warmth radiating from him, as Bucky shifted slightly from side to side, his bag brushing against you gently, almost like he was trying to get you to look at him, but you ignored it.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, you stepped out into the parking garage. The air was cooler here, sharp with the scent of exhaust and fresh concrete. Steve led the way toward the sleek black SUV waiting at the curb. Its windows were tinted darker than standard issue, and the engine was idling with a quiet purr. The garage was practically empty, except for a few cars scattered haphazardly in different spots, nothing completely out of the ordinary.

Natasha popped the trunk, and Steve tossed your bag in, with Bucky following suit, slinging his own up on top of yours. You peeked into the trunk, your eyes landing on a large black case that was tucked neatly in the corner, with Steve’s shield beside it. You paused.

”Natasha, care to explain the small arsenal you’ve got in here?” You asked, cocking a brow at her. Bucky peered over your shoulder, looking at the same thing you were, glancing over at Natasha for an answer. She shrugged, moving them over, pulling the trunk door down with one hand.

”It’s a little insurance.” She responded.

”Against what, exactly? An entire fleet of super soldiers? You really think that is going to protect us if Orkolov decides to send people for us?” Bucky questioned, his arms crossing over his chest.

”You two poked a hornet’s nest with a flamethrower…Any type of weapon at this point will be beneficial to have.” Steve commented, walking towards the driver’s seat, you scoffed, adjusting your sweater as you brushed by Bucky, having him trail close behind you while you opened up the back door and slipped across the leather seats, your foot knocking against another black box. Bucky followed in behind you, the tension from earlier curling and lighting back to life, like an ember that refused to go out. You leaned your head back against the headrest, eyes flicking out the window, avoiding Bucky’s gaze that was burning into the side of your face.

Natasha climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door with a quiet finality.

”Okay grandpa, let’s actually go a little above the speed limit this time.” She quipped as Steve put the car into drive, shaking his head at her, pulling out of the parking garage with practiced ease. The sun was rising on the streets of Vienna, but the citizens were nowhere to be found on the sidewalks. It was understandable to an extent, especially by the way the city buzzed until all hours of the night…The people had to sleep at some point.

Bucky leaned down, picking up the small case on the ground, placing it between the both of you, popping it open, checking the contents of it to distract him.

”Jesus Christ,” He muttered under his breath, eyeing the neat rows of ammo, the two short-range rifles, the three compact grenades that formed a triangle in the foam that held everything together, and a set of knives. “So much for a little bit of insurance Romanoff…” He added dryly, picking up one of the guns, and loading it, handing it over to you with a holster, giving himself the opportunity to touch your skin, even if it was just for a millisecond. You didn’t meet his eyes, but the contact made a shiver run down your spine, the unspoken words curling between the both of you just from the brief touch.

”Thanks,” You whispered, your voice tight, like a rubber band that was stretched to its limits. He didn’t say anything back, he just collected his own selection of weapons, then leaned back and stared ahead. You adjusted the weapon on your thigh, eyes scanning the empty streets that passed you once more, now getting an eerie feeling in your gut that something was off, you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Then the first hit came like a thunderclap of reality.

One second the SUV was moving through the sleeping streets of Vienna and the next the sound of metal on metal screeched through your ears, the full speed impact of a truck hitting your side pulling you out of your mind in an instant. Glass exploded inward, and all four of you let out your own personal array of curses, the car spinning out while Steve tried to somehow regain control of the wheel. You could feel your ribs burn, your leg screaming with a searing pain, an unnatural warmth coating your skin, as the car settled, the scent of burnt tires filling your lungs. Bucky’s hand grabbed your arm, yanking you out of your daze.

”Are you okay?” He asked, panicked, unbuckling his seatbelt in one quick motion, shifting closer to you, his eyes roaming your body, pausing when he saw it, “Oh god.” He muttered, pulling back a little to look at the damage, your eyes followed his gaze, looking down at the right side of your ribcage, staring at the blooming crimson stain that soaked into your sweater, noticing a hole in the fabric where glass had sliced through and impaled your skin, a shard shimmering in the light.

”I’m fine, I’m fine.” You repeated, grabbing onto his vibranium wrist, trying to convince him of something you didn’t really believe. It wasn’t as bad as the other injuries you had experienced, but the timing was not beneficial to the situation.

The second hit came as quickly as the first did, another truck clipping the front of the car this time, spinning it out of control once again. The tires screamed and the metal buckled, jerking your body sideways, but before you could even brace yourself for the impact, Bucky wrapped his arm around you, putting his body weight over yours to shield you from any additional injuries or glass, pressing his vibranium hand against the ceiling of the SUV to brace himself, the vehicle continuing to spin like it was kicked by a god. His breath was ragged against your ear as the sickening motion screeched to a violent halt, the front end slamming into a cement pillar.

Smoke was already curling from the hood, the SUV croaking out its final grunt of life before the engine died. You hissed through your teeth, feeling Bucky pull himself from you, his hand immediately undoing your seatbelt, while the other one caressed your cheek, gently tilting your head.

”Y/N…Hey. Open your eyes.” He instructed sternly, his fingers tapping against your face, getting your attention in an instant.

”You guys okay back there?” Steve asked, his voice sounding like it was distant, almost as if the ringing in your ears was clouding the volume. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, coughing the smoke out of your lungs.

”Y/N’s bleeding, she’s got some glass in her.” Bucky said, his blue irises frantically scanning over you and the dazed look you had on your face, his fingers pressing more firmly against your cheek. You blinked again, your vision swimming into clarity, wincing at the pain that spread like fire under your skin. Bucky grabbed your hand and placed it against your ribs, pressing his down onto the back of yours.

”Keep pressure on it okay? We are gonna move you.” His voice was so calm, yet underneath it all there was a sense of urgency, something sharp, something worried even. He was not the version of him that had kissed you like you were his source of oxygen just half an hour ago, nor was he the version that cried in your arms when you had hugged him…This…This was survival Bucky. You nodded at him, pressing down against the wound.

He leaned over the backseat, grabbing Steve’s shield, handing it to him quickly. The smell of smoke and burning rubber grew thicker by the second, and the sun had barely begun to rise over the skeletal outlines of the buildings around you. The SUV’s hood hissed with steam, and the shattered windshield was a jagged mess of glass and spiderweb cracks. Even through all of this everything remained eerily still. No footsteps. No chatter. No traffic. Just the four of you against whatever was coming.

”We need to get the fuck out of this car before we get flanked.” Natasha said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Then…

A sharp buzz of static echoed through the streets.

“You said we’d meet again, didn’t you? And my, my…I think I beat my own record, didn’t even have you wait more than twenty-four hours…I must admit, I think that’s quiet impressive.” His voice echoed through the streets, the thick accent, the odd whistling in his speech from where his teeth had been knocked out the night before, it was all too familiar, and instantly recognizable. Orkolov. Your blood ran cold, even as your wound burned hot beneath your hand. The voice echoed unnaturally through the street, projected through concealed speakers somewhere in the shadows of the buildings, bouncing around like a ghost that wouldn’t die.

Steve had already thrown his door open, shield in hand, sweeping the street with his eyes. Natasha followed instantly, gun drawn, crouching behind the SUV.

”Barnes, there’s an alley on your left, get her to cover. Steve and I are gonna start moving down the street, see if we can get an extraction point.” Bucky didn’t hesitate for a second, his vibranium hand wrapped around your forearm gently despite the urgency of the situation, kicking the door open and pulling you out of the wrecked vehicle. Your legs trembled beneath you from the impact, your right leg pulsing with pain, like you couldn’t bear weight on it, but he kept you upright, half-carrying, half-guiding you toward the alleyway that Natasha pointed out, right between two shuttered storefronts, as Orkolov’s voice followed you like smoke.

“You thought I would let the both of you go after what you did? Thought I would give you the proper information on the super soldier delivery? After all that? You are both so naive…They’re already here making their way to this exact location to clear you guys out.” You glanced up at Bucky as he guided you down slowly onto the damped concrete behind a dumpster, crouching low with his gun drawn, his body staying angled in front of yours. You could see the tension in every line on his face, his muscles coiling from the venomous tone Orkolov was taking, knowing that he had this prepared all along. You wrapped your hand around Bucky’s forearm, in an attempt to possibly calm him down, his eyes drawing down to yours, his hot breath fanning over your face due to the close proximity.

”But I’m not going to kill you…Not before I get to see what I’ve always wanted to…An old war machine…” The words sank into the silence, and you could feel Bucky’s muscles stiffen beneath your touch, his fist clenching. “Because I’m a nice man though…I’ll give you two love birds a moment to say goodbye.” You could hear the smugness of his voice, the mocking tone he took, even though the odds were stacked against you, Steve, Bucky, and Natasha for that matter. The air changed in those moments, and there was a heavy, looming dread that overtook the both of you. Your hand tightened around his arm even more.

”Bucky.” You whispered, “Don’t listen to him. Focus on me.” He shook his head.

”Y/N…You know that’s not how it works…I-If he has them…It’s over, this isn’t like last night, it won’t be a trance you can break me out of.” His voice was hoarse, eyes glassy, already brimming with tears, knowing that it was of no use trying to beat around the bush, the reality of the situation was clear as day. It was going to happen whether you liked it or not, and in minutes Bucky would be gone…Replaced with the person who tried to kill you. The thought made you sick, and just like him, your eyes began to flood with tears as well.

”Just when things were looking up huh?” You croaked, attempting to somehow lighten the moment, your other hand still pressing tight against the bleeding that was beginning to slow on your ribcage. He huffed, a weak laugh coming out of his mouth, shaking his head, putting his gun down beside you, before reaching up to cup your cheek, his thumb trembling as it wiped away a tear that escaped the corner of your eye. His gaze searched yours, desperate, pleading, and frantic, memorizing every part of your face, feeling you lean into his touch like it might be the last thing you ever got from him.

”Trust me…If I had a choice I would’ve stayed at that hotel with you for as long as you wanted.” He whispered back, the both of you sharing a bittersweet laugh, before your throat tightened from the flood of emotions that took you, the broken sound of your breath hitching. Bucky’s hand moved slowly down your cheek, gently curling behind your neck to draw you into him, his forehead pressing to yours, the warmth of his palm radiating against your skin. The silence stretched between the both of you, as you brought your hand up to his chin, scraping the stubble on it.

”This isn’t fair…” You stated, another set of tears escaping the corners of your eyes, trailing down your cheeks, catching on your jaw.

”I know,” He said, his breath shuddering, brushing warm over your lips. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, eyes red rimmed, lashes soaked, “But I’m grateful we at least had a night together.” He added, his thumb brushing over the hair on the nape of your neck, as he leaned in to give you one last kiss, the most gentle of them all, yet the shortest, the taste of salt catching on your tongue.

“I need you to promise me something,” He breathed, his vibranium hand coming up to hold your heated cheek, your tears sliding down his palm, seeping into the crevices. You nodded, feeling his thumb pressing into your skin, your hand still caressing his jaw.

“If he comes out…If he takes over fully. If he even comes close to you…You don’t hesitate. You don’t flinch. You don’t beg…And you don’t wait. You do what you have to, so that you can get out safely, okay?” Your mind was racing at a thousand miles a minute trying to make sense of what he was asking of you, your eyes searching his, seeing the way he looked down at you, almost like he knew he had no chance against this, the lines between his brows etching hard into his skin. It finally clicked.

“Bucky…You can’t ask that of me.” You could see the sadness in his eyes, the way they turned down at you, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, smearing your tears along it.

“I would rather die by your hand than live through the possibility that I did something even worse than before to you…Do you understand me?” Your breath caught in your throat, every inch of your body trembling, not from pain, not from the blood still soaking into your sweater, but from the weight of what he was asking. What he was pleading for.

“Y-Yes I understand.” You sniffled, his hand still resting against your face, cradling it gently. The look in his eyes told you everything; he wasn’t asking because he wanted to. He was asking because he had to. Because there was no one else he trusted to make the call. No one else who mattered enough to make the act hurt less.

“Promise me you’ll do it.” He whispered, his voice raspy, raw, and broken, cracking at the seams as he tried to stay stoic.

You stared at him, the man who had once been your enemy. Who had cared enough to ask Steve about you when you were in the hospital. Who you had hated until something in you cracked open and everything inside came pouring out to fill his reservoir.

And now…

Now he was asking you to kill him.

The sound that left your throat wasn’t even a word–it was a whimper, a sob, a choking gasp of a person being forced to make a choice no one should ever have to make.

Your lips trembled.

Your heart shattered.

But you nodded.

Just once.

Barely.

“…Okay.”

The second you said it, something inside you died.

You felt it, that small, stubborn hope you’d been clutching like a lifeline slipping through your fingers like sand, dissolving into the blood on your sweater, the smoke in your lungs, the tears on your cheeks.

Bucky closed his eyes.

And when he opened them again, he looked at peace. Not happy. Not even relieved. Just at rest. Like he’d finally let go of the weight he’d carried for too long.

“I’m sorry,” He said, his voice barely more than a breath. “For everything.” You couldn’t see him through the blur of tears that continued to form in your eyes, your fingers trembling against his chin, his breath still fanning out over your skin from how close he was to you.

“I forgive you.” Was all you could get out, before the static over the speakers hissed back to life, and the first word dropped like a nuclear bomb between the both of you.

“Желание.” Longing. Bucky’s body tensed up almost in an instant, like his body had taken a bullet to the spine. Your hand was still on his cheek when it started, and he flinched like your skin burned him, his eyes going wide as a sudden tremor shook through him. Slowly, his hands slipped from your skin, the warmth fleeting, being replaced by the cool air that blew through the alleyway. His vibranium fingers wrapped around your wrist, and with devastating gentleness, he pulled your palm away from his jaw.

“Ржавый.” Rusted. He dropped your hand into your lap, a guttural sound ripping out of his throat while he tried to shuffle back away from you. His lips parted as if he was trying to say something, but right before anything could make its way out his jaw clenched, and he doubled over, his hair falling in front of his face, attempting to move himself away from you even more. His vibranium hand was steady against the concrete beneath him, as his other hand reached up to grip the back of his neck, you could see the way his nails dug into the skin, the soft tone of it going a deep red from how hard he was clawing at the same spot over and over again.

Then his teeth snapped together.

“Печь.” Furnace. You heard the crunch. The wet, squelchy sound of flesh between teeth echoing through your ears, your eyes immediately noticing blood dripping from his mouth in thick hot streaks, staining the concrete.

“Bucky!” You gasped, your instincts taking over before you could even think, your hands reaching out to him despite the pain that radiated from your ribs and from your leg. He staggered back, flinching at your attempt to touch him, his face coming back into your line of sight, his blue eyes glistening with terror, a sheen of sweat forming just above his brow.

”Stay…Stay back.” He choked, the words muffled and slurring around the blood that continued to fill his mouth, dripping from the corners, staining his skin.

“Рассвет.” Daybreak. Bucky let out a strangled gasp, his lungs seizing mid-breath, his vibranium hand reeling back and slamming into the concrete, a crack forming from the impact. You didn’t flinch, nor did you move a muscle, all you could do was cry, and watch as he slipped away from you with each word.

“Семнадцать.” Seventeen. His whole body shook, spine arching so hard it looked like something within him was trying to snap him in two. He let out a blood-choked scream, his hand continuing to claw at the back of his neck, scratching so much that his skin was raw, like he was trying to physically tear the programming out of his brain before it rooted into his system again, and invaded him. His shoulders met the opposite wall of the alley, his boots slipping in the blood and the shallow puddles beneath him.

”D-Don’t l-look.” He stuttered. His voice didn’t sound whole anymore, it was splintered, like it came from deep inside a collapsing structure, his chin coated now slicked and stained with the crimson blood that continued to flow out of his mouth. “P-P-Please don’t l-look.” He begged, as you tore your eyes away from him, another sick crunch being heard as his jaw locked, biting into the already raw and bleeding flesh of his cheek once again. You winced at the sound, shaking from the breaths you were trying to take in through your sobs. You could hear him spit onto the ground, the rocks beneath him scraping against one another as he shifted.

“Добросердечный.” Benign. The scream that tore from Bucky’s throat was no longer human, it sounded like a wounded animal, raw and ragged, like his soul was being dragged out through his chest. It echoed down the alleyway, bouncing off brick and steel like a siren of death, a sound so harrowing it stopped your breath mid-sob. Your eyes glanced at him, as he twisted against the wall, his back arching off it, limbs spasming like he was being electrocuted from the inside out. You couldn’t take it anymore. With all the strength you had left you scrambled forward, your sweater dragging through the puddles of blood that had dripped from his mouth, ignoring the white-hot pain that erupted from your ribs and leg. Before you could reach him, he slammed his vibranium fist into the pavement between the both of you. A warning that was wordless yet absolute.

Stay back.

His eyes were glassy with terror, wide and dilated, locked on you like you were a tether to the last piece of himself, he shook his head at you, the blood continuing to stream down his chin in thick glistening strands, dripping onto his white shirt, soaking it.

”C-Can’t…” Was all he could get out, his bottom lip shaking, bracing for the next word to come.

“Девять.” Nine. He grunted, bringing his hands up to his skull, his nails digging into his temples, dragging angry red lines down the side of his face, wincing at the pain coming from his bleeding mouth, and now from the marks he had made on himself. His teeth were coated a crimson red, as he spat again, trying to remove the excess blood that continued to flood his mouth.

“Возвращение домой.” Homecoming. His breath came out in staggered, wet, broken gasps. Choking slightly as his back arched again, his palms falling to the concrete to somehow brace himself so he wouldn’t fall. You could hear him trying to speak, his lips forming your name. It was slurred, distorted beyond comprehension, half-swallowed by the blood, and half-erased by the war that ran through his mind.

“Y-Y/N-“ He forced your name out, voice straining like it was dragged across glass, like he was attempting to keep your name on his lips so when he inevitably turned, The Winter Soldier would spare you somehow. You pushed yourself up onto your hands, still looking at him, your sweater soaked in a mixture of your blood, his blood, and the water from the puddles that lined the alleyway.

“Один.” One. His fingers curled into the concrete, veins rising beneath his skin. His back arched, muscles pulled so tight they looked like they might snap from the tension. The scream he let out was strangled and wet, ripped through clenched teeth, his jaw trembling with the effort not to break. The coagulated blood continued to spill from his mouth, thick and hot, splattering the ground beneath him in rhythmic droplets. He didn’t sound human anymore.

“Грузовой вагон.” Freight car. Suddenly he collapsed forward, panting, his body twitching once, then twice, before freezing completely, his hair shielding his face, so it was out of your sight completely. Silence overtook the alleyway, and all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears, banging through your chest like a drum. You were breathing fast, on the brink of hyperventilating, as he lifted his his slowly, and looked at you.

His irises were blown, wild and distant. You could’ve sworn they were black, because you couldn’t see the signature storm blue, not even a hint of it. It was just darkness.

Then he moved with such ease, like he wasn’t just fighting for his life seconds ago. It was smooth, fluid, and silent, the perfect mix for a highly trained assassin. He crawled towards you on his hands and knees, the puddles ripping with every movement staining his sweatpants, his mouth still dripping blood.

You scrambled backward, your palms slipping against the wet concrete, your wound on your ribs screaming for your attention. You tried to speak, tried to say his name, to plead, but your breathing was so fast it just came out in choked noises. The puddles rippled beneath his hands, spreading red with each movement, his palms dragging through his own blood, staining them even further. Your spine hit the cold wall behind you, the rough texture biting through your sweater, every nerve in your body immediately lighting ablaze as the raw panic settled in.

“Bucky…” You rasped, finally managing to say something. He didn’t answer, not that you were expecting him to anyways. His head hung low as he moved, his long strands of sweat drenched hair clinging to his cheeks and jaw, finally close enough in proximity that you could smell the metallic, coppery scent of his blood, like you were breathing in pure rust.

Your lips parted, a tremor shaking through your body, his body shifting in front of you, mirroring how he shielded your body when you had arrived in the alley. His head tilted just enough for you to see the way the blood glistened along his teeth, watching your sweater garner more and more stains from where the crimson strings dripped from his chin. His breath hit your face, warm, humid and metallic. Your nose crinkled at the smell, his shadow draping over you completely. You pressed yourself tighter against the wall, still holding your wound, wincing while trying to build distance between you and him.

His gaze dropped, and you followed it, seeing it lingering on the spot where you were bleeding, your fingers trembling with every shallow breath you tried to take. His hand came up, his movements precise and calculating as he reached towards where your hand was.

“D-Don’t…Please don’t.” You whispered, your voice barely audible through the trembling in your chest. But he didn’t stop. His eyes, black and bottomless, remained fixed on the bloodied press of your hand over your ribs. With a single, rough jerk, he shoved your palm aside, and suddenly the dam broke and you screamed, only for it to be cut off by his hand clamping over your mouth.

The blood on his skin was warm, slick and metallic as it smeared across your lips and chin, his grip tightening just enough to muffle you. In that moment you thought this was it, this was where he was going to kill you, and you couldn’t even care less, because you weren’t bringing yourself to shoot him, no matter what you had promised Bucky. Something in The Winter Soldier’s eyes told you he knew exactly what you were thinking, as he watched another fresh set of tears streaming down your cheeks, soaking into the side of his hand.

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the pain, for the end, for the inevitable…But then his vibranium hand began to move, pushing apart the torn fabric of your sweater to expose the wound, his fingers curling around something jagged that shifted in you, something that didn’t belong, the shard of glass. In one quick motion he yanked, and a scream tore from your lungs, muffling and vibrating against your face, his hand loosening just a little bit from your mouth so you could breathe easier, even though the taste of his blood was making you lightheaded. There was temporary relief from the burning sensation, and now when you inhaled it didn’t feel like your entire right side was going to explode…

The sound of glass shattering rang out through your ears, causing you to flinch. For a single, petrified second, you were certain he was going to drive that shard into your gut—twist it until your lungs collapsed or until you bled out. You had braced for it, felt your heart seize in anticipation of the pain that never came but the wave of relief when he had thrown it almost made your sobbing worse.

He slid his hand off your mouth, smearing the blood along your skin in the process, his touch lingering for just a few seconds before leaving you completely, his shadow still looming over you, while his breath fanned over your skin.

You opened your eyes, though your vision was occluded due to the tears that just kept coming. You blinked gently, allowing them to fall down your cheeks, letting them intermingle with the blood stains he left on you, until you finally dared to look up at him.

His face was still, frozen and devoid of emotion. His mouth was open, and his cheeks were swollen from where he had torn through the wet flesh with his teeth. He was still bleeding but it had tapered off a bit, his body already working overtime to heal itself as fast as it could. His pupils remained dilated, but something—something in those dark, hollow eyes flickered. Just barely.

Recognition.

It was fractured, uncertain, and buried deep beneath layers of programming, but it was there. A single thread in a web of chaos. His brows twitched, and the muscles in his jaw tightened beneath your observant eyes. You didn’t know if it was your face or your voice echoing in his ears, but something rooted him to the spot and stopped all additional movements from him.

“…Do you know me?” You asked, the question spilling out of your lips like you were a madwoman that completely forgot who she was sitting in front of.

He didn’t answer.

But his body shifted subtly. Slowly. Mechanically. His bloodstained palm coming up to hover over your face.

His eyes, black and void of all emotion, didn’t blink. They pinned you in place, and for the first time since he changed, there was something behind them. Something that watched you not like a target, but like a truth.

A memory.

His gaze dropped, not in fear or hesitation, but with razor-sharp purpose, tracing the line from your face to the center of your chest.

And then his hand moved down.

Not fast.

Not like he was going to go in for a strike. It was like he was landmarking, the shadow of his hand ghosting over your collarbone, before stopping right where the zipper of your sweater started.

Then with the greatest hesitation, he pressed his palm flat against your chest.

Right over the scar.

Over the thick, blood-matted fabric of your ruined sweater. Over the place his knife had sunk in–when you were screaming, when you had fought him, when your blood had spilled across his hands and he didn’t stop.

Your breath caught in your throat, shallow and fast. You could feel your pulse hammering right beneath where his palm lay, and somehow, that felt more terrifying than if he had tried to kill you again. Because this wasn’t the Soldier attacking.

This was him having a conscience of some sort, which was certainly not in his programming.

A beat passed.

Then another.

His hand didn’t move for a long time, it just rested there, he wasn’t pressing hard enough to hurt you, but it wasn’t a ghost of a touch, either. It was firm. Present. A silent claim. A memory anchoring itself to flesh.

You could feel his fingers tremble slightly, just the smallest quiver against the slope of your chest. Whether it was from restraint or something else, you didn’t know. But he didn’t pull away.

Your hand moved before your mind caught up–slowly, trembling, stained with dried blood. You reached across the space between you, watching him the whole time, watching the unreadable storm behind those bottomless black eyes.

And then you touched him.

Your palm met his chest, just over his heart. You were surprised that you felt its faint beat through your hand, steady and strong. The fabric of his shirt was soaked through, sticky with blood and sweat, but through it you could feel the coldness that radiated from him.

He flinched at first contact. It was a subtle recoil, a twitch in the muscles beneath your hand. But he didn’t stop you. Didn’t push you away. And somehow that meant everything.

You kept your hand there, splayed open over him like you were trying to absorb some part of him back into yourself, a soft sigh escaping your throat, as your pulse pounded in your ears. Even though he wasn’t Bucky, there was still something in there that held The Winter Soldier back from doing what he does best, you just couldn’t understand what, or how it was happening. He continued to stare at you as you carefully brought your other hand up into his line of sight, reaching towards his face, wanting to see how far he’d let you go until he showed his true colours and snapped.

His eyes flickered over to your fingers, watching them hover above the dark red swelling on his cheek–where his teeth had torn into his own flesh in a desperate attempt to resist the programming that was built into him. He didn’t stop you–but he didn’t invite you to continue either, he simply waited with the same unreadable expression carved into his blood-slicked features like stone.

With the utmost caution, you closed the space, allowing your palm to press against his cheek. His skin was ice cold, like winter steel. Like something that was forged from the snow that never dethawed. The bite of it stung your fingertips, and it made you flinch, yet you kept your hand there, cupping the wounded part of him as if it could ease the agony he had inflicted on himself.

Your thumb brushed faintly over his cheek, across the dried, sticky blood that coated his skin, trying to be gentle with him even though his eyes were still dilated and blank, like he was on the brink of switching at any time.

For these suspended moments he let you touch him like he was who you desperately wanted him to be, absorbing every caress like it was meant for him, even though it wasn’t. You watched as he closed his eyes, his lips parting for a brief moment, before he spoke.

“Ты моя слабость.” You are my weakness. The words slipped from his lips like a sin–low, hoarse, and raw. It was a confession, a surrender, dragged from the deep, ruined part of him that no amount of programming could erase. You could feel your pulse throbbing beneath your skin, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

The Winter Soldier–this cold, broken weapon that had been forged in blood and silence–had just admitted something no handler could have beaten out of him. No conditioning could have rewritten that. And as his breath ghosted over your skin–thick with the coppery scent of his blood–you felt something inside you shift, fracturing, breaking.

Your fingers trailed from his cheek to his jawline, following the sharp curve that was slick with drying blood. Your hand settled gently at the side of his cold damp neck, where his pulse bounded against the pads of your fingers at an irregular rhythm, he was nervous, but it didn’t show on his face. His eyes still weren’t open, but you could see his bottom lip trembling, like he was trying to resist whatever was going on inside his head.

Then slowly, you pulled him towards you, until his ear hovered beside your lips, and his blood-matted hair brushed against your cheek, the scent of iron truly invading your senses this time. You swallowed thickly, tilting your head so your breath tickled the shell of his ear.

“Я твоя слабость, потому что он все еще дышит внутри тебя… Обещай мне, что ты позволишь ему вернуться, Солдат.” I am your weakness because he’s still breathing inside you…Promise me you’ll let him come back, Soldat. It was as if you could feel his body stall as the words slipped from your lips, like the act of breathing for him suddenly became foreign. You assumed it was because he didn’t think you knew Russian, or maybe it was because you were pleading with him to give up his residency in Bucky’s body, either way, the tension between the both of you was palpable.

There was a moment where nothing happened, where he was still, where you couldn’t even tell if he was breathing–if it wasn’t for his pulse slamming against your fingertips you would’ve thought he died because of how statuesque he was.

Then he began to turn his head to the side, just enough for his eyes to meet yours. They were still black, twin voids with a slight ring of blue surrounding them if you looked closely–which due to the proximity, you could basically see every detail in them. His forehead hovered an inch from yours, and now you were sharing air, invading each other's lungs with every exhale and inhale.

The two of you were locked in place, blood-stained and tethered by something unspoken, though neither of you looked away from one another. It was as if you were communicating without words, until he gave you a small nod. It was so faint you thought you imagined it, but you took it as an answer, a promise, regardless of how tiny the gesture was.

Before you could say anything to him, a distinct sound pierced the quiet.

It was distant at first, the sound of tires rolling against concrete, the faint squeaking of the truck's suspension heaving from its occupants, the rumbling of the engine. Then it grew closer, stopping short behind the mouth of the alley.

The Winter Soldier pulled away for a moment, his body immediately growing rigid, slipping back into its calculated, mechanical, inhuman form. He glanced over the dumpster, scanning the area with professional accuracy, his ears tuning into every sound the new arrivals made, trying to figure out how many there were just by the different types of step patterns he heard. He counted out five, but for all he knew it could’ve been more.

You felt his vibranium hand slip down to the gun holster on your thigh, unclipping the bloodied leather to slide the sidearm free. He looked down at you, then to the gun, examining it for a moment, getting comfortable with the grip before removing his bloodied palm from your chest, reaching for the other gun he had placed beside you prior to his transformation. You watched him closely, seeing the way his thumbs traced over the grips, adjusting his hands to suit the weapons, before putting them both down briefly.

Wordlessly, and with a steady touch, slipped his hands under your knees, guiding your legs inward, up towards your chest so you were practically curled into a ball behind the dumpster. He was careful, precise, and made sure he didn’t cause you any additional pain, nudging you behind the rusted metal just a bit more to ensure you were completely covered. You both shared one last look at each other, him giving you one more nod to solidify what he had agreed to just moments prior. I’ll let him come back.

Then without another thought, he picked up both guns–yours and his–rose in one quick motion, and slipped out the opposite end of the alley, his footsteps careful enough not to echo and give off his location prematurely, before firing off a warning shot that rang through your ears. The shadows swallowed him whole, leaving you alone, listening to the chaotic array of comms going off, and an array of arguing that came in short bursts, followed by footsteps going further away from where you sat behind the dumpster.

You stayed frozen for a long while after he left. You couldn’t breathe right. Couldn’t think. All you could do was curl tighter into yourself behind the dumpster, your hand pressed to the wound on your ribs, the other slick with drying blood that didn’t even feel like yours anymore. Your ears rang with the phantom echo of his words. With the memory of his hand over your mouth, smearing blood across your lips like a brand, then the way he put the same one against your chest.

You didn’t know how long you sat there trembling. It could’ve been minutes. Could’ve been hours. Then you heard running coming from the same direction he vanished from. You lifted your head weakly, bracing for the possibility that the super soldiers found you before they could get taken out, accepting your fate without a fraction of fear.

From the shadows, Natasha stepped into the light, sweeping the alley with her weapon drawn, her eyes sharp and ready to shoot anything that moved, but it was Steve who saw you first. The look of horror that draped on his face was indescribable, it was as if he was having flashbacks to when he found you after The Winter Soldier had attacked you.

”Y/N/.” He said, filled with panic, his shield clattering to the ground as he rushed towards you, dropping to his knees in front of you. His hands hovering over you, not knowing where to start, his eyes frantically going over the bloodstains on your sweater, seeing the wound you were holding with your hand, then looking up to your face, seeing the blood smears that had dried a deep maroon on your skin, resembling bruises.

”Jesus…What happened to you?!” His voice cracking around the question, hesitant to touch you, afraid it might make things worse, Natasha crouching beside you as well now, her brows knitting together with concern. She scanned you–trained, methodical, emotion carefully restrained behind her steel-colored eyes.

“Did he…Did he do this to you?” She asked, pushing your hand off the wound that she was already aware of, applying pressure herself instead, pressing down significantly harder than you had, a hiss escaping your mouth.

”No. I’m not injured apart from my leg and the wound I got from the accident.” You sputtered out through clenched teeth, your fingers curling into the sticky fabric of your sweater.

”You don’t have to cover for him. We heard the trigger words Y/N…He turned into The Winter Soldier, there’s no way he didn’t do anything to you. We heard you scream.” Steve shot back, watching you close your eyes tightly.

”I’m telling you the truth. He didn’t hurt me…He pulled the glass out of the wound…He covered my mouth so I wouldn’t give away our location.” You explained, cringing as Natasha pressed a bit harder into the wound, the pain turning into a slow pulsing throb.

”How do you explain all this blood then?” Steve quipped, motioning to all over you.

”He was bleeding from his mouth…He bit through the inside of his cheek when he was turning…He was trying to resist it.” You said between laboured breaths, feeling your skin beginning to mend together slowly beneath Natasha’s palm, the serum finally kicking up into your bloodstream. “He didn’t lay a hand on me, at least not with the intention of hurting me…You know I’d be dead if he did.” Steve froze in his spot, his eyes glancing over at Natasha, uncertainty flickering behind his blue irises.

”I’ve never seen him do that before…Sure, maybe he’s overridden orders but that was after I took a beating and a half from him…He’s never fought back against the trigger words itself though.” Natasha’s hand slowly began to ease from your side, loosening the pressure, her eyes burning a hole into your cheek, almost like she already knew the reason why, her brain idly connecting the dots, then suddenly an array of gunshots and screaming echoed down the street.

”Listen, how about we discuss this when we get to the extraction point. We only have ten minutes to get there and we are wasting them talking about why he spared her.” She cut in. You immediately tense up, looking between both her and Steve.

”Wait…What about Bucky? We can’t just leave him.” You said, desperately. Steve clenched his jaw, and you could see how the veins in his neck stood out slightly under his skin. You saw the guilt feathering over his features, the conflict playing out on his face, the ache that always lingered behind his eyes when it came to Bucky, and the fear that loomed in the background, knowing that there was a possibility The Winter Soldier wasn’t going to take kindly to him or Natasha if they decided to wait for him.

Steve let out a steady breath through his nose, steadying himself slightly like he was trying to hold back the emotions that were beginning to build within his chest.

”I don’t want to leave him…” He said quietly, “But we can’t risk it Y/N, not like this. We don’t know how he will react to us, and we don’t know if what he did with you was a one off. He could kill us.” He added, seeing the way your eyes began brimming with tears while you shook your head at him.

”You know damn well he would do anything in his power to get to you if you were in his position Steve…You can’t do that to him…Please, don’t do that to him.” Steve dropped his gaze from yours, feeling the anger behind what you were saying.

“We will call for a separate extraction. We just can’t take him with us now. We don’t have time, and we can’t risk it.” Natasha cut in, coming to Steve’s defence. You swallowed hard.

”I’m not leaving him.” You stated, meaning it with every inch of your body. You took in laboured breaths, feeling your side ache for a brief moment, stinging as the flesh began to tether together, but you still refused the idea of leaving Bucky here alone.

”Then we’ll have to do this the hard way.” Steve said, shifting forward quickly. You didn’t even have time to recoil before his arms were under you, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. Immediately you protested.

”No! Get the fuck off me! Let me go!” You screamed, your voice cracking, as you squirmed and kicked against him, the sides of your fists hitting his broad back, seeing Natasha picking up his shield, following closely as he began to move down the alley, opposite to where the screams and gunfire were ringing out.

“Put me down! Don’t do this!” You begged with tears streaming down your face in hot streaks, feeling your chest tighten with every short inhale you took between sobs.

”I’m sorry, Y/N…But I’m not leaving you here to die. I’m doing this for your own safety.” Steve retorted, moving quickly through the streets.

”Fuck my own safety!” You shot back, another fist slamming into his back, continuing to squirm against him to try to make it harder for him to move, even though it had little impact, “You’re abandoning your own fucking friend!” You yelled. Every word that fell from your mouth was like a blade and every thrash of your body against his back was a reminder of the weight of what he was doing. Yet, his arms stayed firm around your legs as he pushed forward, past the burnt-out cars, and closed stores, toward the extraction point that felt like it was lightyears away.

Your sobs grew louder, harsher. Each gasp was ragged, caught between broken cries and short, shallow breaths that made your chest rise and fall like a ticking time bomb. You were falling apart with every second that passed, and it was beginning to worry Steve and Natasha, they had never seen you in such distress before, especially for someone you couldn’t stand three days ago.

Your vision began to blur, shifting into shapes and shadows. You couldn’t get a full breath in. Your lungs clawed at the air, trying to fill, but each inhale came shorter than the last. Your throat burned. Your chest ached. Every sob stuttered in your body, and then, everything went black.

——————

A violent gasp tore out of your throat when you regained consciousness hours later. You jolted upright, eyes wild, searching around the bunk that you were in, hands scrambling around the sheets in a panic, like you were looking for a weapon.

“Woah, woah…Hey, take it easy.” Steve said, breaking through the fog that clouded your mind, his hands coming up to hold onto your shoulders, steadying you as much as possible. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the low lighting, to the cool press of metal walls and the familiar hum of the Quinjet that surrounded you. The bunk you were in was small, cramped, tucked along the edge of the jet’s interior. You were wrapped in a grey military-issued blanket that had slipped halfway down your frame. Beneath it, your clothes were still torn and bloodstained, but the wound on your side had healed, which was a minor relief.

“W-What happened?” You asked, looking up at Steve, who now took a seat on the bed, his expression soft, and exhausted.

”You couldn’t catch your breath, and you passed out,” He said gently, “You’ve been unconscious for a few hours.” Hours. You blinked hard, trying to process his words, feeling the dread coming up and settling in your throat.

”…Where is Bucky?” You whispered, watching the way Steve took his eyes off of you, avoiding your gaze, his hands leaving your shoulders slowly. You could feel your pulse beginning to rise again with each minute of silence that passed through the room.

”Steve. Where is he?” You pushed, your voice stern now, fighting through the panic that pressed into your lungs. He let out a sigh, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

”We called for a second extraction for him…But they told us we needed to wait until they could get one of the secured units out to him, the ones with a cell. They didn’t want to risk bringing him back without one.” He explained, his eyes scanning over you with concern when he saw your face drop. Your stomach twisted at his words, your shaky hand coming up to cover your mouth, feeling bile rising in your throat.

”I need a bag…I think I’m gonna vomit.” You warned quietly, your bottom lip trembling, watching as Steve stood up from the bed to grab the trash bin near one of the storage containers, handing it over to you quickly. You barely managed to get the bin in your lap before your stomach turned violently. There wasn’t much to throw up since you hadn’t eaten that morning, but the dry heaving still tore through you with brutal force, leaving your throat raw and your muscles shaking, as your body ejected whatever liquid it could.

Steve crouched beside the bunk, one hand steadying the bin, the other rubbing circles along your back, trying to provide you some sort of comfort. Trailing near the end of your vomiting episode you let out a gut wrenching cry, the kind that came straight from your chest, as you raised your head, tears already streaming from your eyes. Steve didn’t say anything at first. He just reached for the trash bin, set it aside gently, and then–without hesitation– he wrapped his arms around you. His touch was careful, firm but not constricting, like he was afraid you might shatter if he held on too tightly. You stiffened at first from the contact, but the moment you felt his steady heartbeat against your temple and his breath settling into your hair, you gave in, sobbing uncontrollably, his shirt soaking up the tears that fell from your eyes.

He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t tell you to calm down. He just held you like a brother would, his fingers drawing slow, grounding circles into your back while your body shook with the weight of guilt that overtook every inch of your mind. He waited until the storm inside you ebbed, to pull back enough to see your tear stained face, his expression full of concern and confusion, his thumbs coming up to wipe the wetness off your cheeks.

“Y/N…Will you be honest with me and tell me what’s really going on…You’re never like this, I haven’t seen you this emotionally beat up since you were hospitalized, and I’m struggling to understand what’s happening inside your head right now.” Your eyes closed for a moment, feeling the truth sitting heavy in your throat, burning to be said, to be put out there, to be known. You had no clue where to begin with the confession. How could you possibly explain that you formed this connection with one of your sworn enemies that you despised, that did an unthinkable act to you? How could you somehow convince someone that within two days of being saturated within one another you managed to put all your differences aside and bond? It was impossible to do it without sounding like a crazy person, and you knew that, but you took the leap of faith hoping that the scramble of words that poured out of your mouth would convey everything you wanted to say.

”I didn’t mean for it to happen,” You murmured, your eyes darting away from Steve’s, swallowing the lump in your throat, a small laugh coming out of you, almost in disbelief, “God, I didn’t even think it would happen in general. I hated him. You know I did. But…It was like when we got on the plane, and we were alone, things just changed.” You could still feel Steve’s eyes on you, listening with such intent that it looked like he was hanging off every word you said. You looked back at him, your lips pulling up into a bittersweet smile, “I was ready to kill him on that fucking plane…But he didn’t even put up a fight, he showed up with guilt, apologies, he felt remorse for what he did and he was so caring… I just couldn’t help but see him in a different light.” You paused, sniffling, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, noticing your skin was still stained with the blood from the alley.

”He’s everything you used to rant and rave about when you were trying to convince me to give him a chance to apologize.” Steve didn’t speak for a long moment, he just let everything you said settle between the two of you, letting out a long sigh.

”I knew it…” He said quietly, his hands leaving your cheeks, wiping the tears off on his pants. Your eyebrows knitted together.

”What?” He smirked at your reaction.

”Y/N…I’ve known Bucky my whole life basically, I know his tells, and it was pretty easy to piece things together when he kept staring at you from the kitchenette…Also I saw two sets of handprints on the bedroom mirror that the both of you forgot to clean off.” Your mouth dropped open, heat immediately creeping up your skin, rising up your neck and flaring out over your face.

”Could’ve been from the last guests.” You breathed, watching a grin draw up on Steve’s lips.

“Yeah…Not when I could see the little scratches Bucky’s vibranium hand made on the glass.” You couldn’t help but reach up to hide your face in your hands in embarrassment. Steve let out a soft laugh, gently tugging your makeshift shield away from your cheeks, “C’mon, we’re all adults here…Kind of. It’s not that big of a deal.” He explained, letting your wrists, leaning back on the edge of the bunk, bringing his elbows to rest on his knees. The silence that followed was heavier now, stretched and thoughtful, like the weight of what you’d just shared was finally settled into the space between you.

”You must’ve really got through to The Winter Soldier though…” Steve commented, breaking the silence. You tilted your head a bit, glancing down at the blood under your fingernails.

”What do you mean?” You asked, looking back up at him briefly.

”Well…The other reason why they said they needed a secured unit for him was because they found Orkolov and the other super soldiers completely unrecognizable. Executed.” You paused for a moment, your eyebrows raising.

”And you think that’s because of me?” He took a deep breath.

”He knew you were in danger, both The Winter Soldier and Bucky I mean…And judging by the way he tried to hide you behind the dumpster, I’m pretty sure all of that was to keep you safe. I don’t think he would’ve lived if it wasn’t for you…He took down seven super soldiers and Orkolov by himself…Think about that for a second.” You bit your bottom lip.

”I think you’re giving me too much credit here…” Steve gave you a look, one of those classic, weary, no-bullshit Captain America stares that cut through every deflection like a blade.

“I think I’m giving you exactly the credit you deserve,” he said, gently but firmly. “You’re the only one he didn’t hurt. Not a scratch. And I’ve seen him in that state before, he doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t flinch. He neutralizes. Hell he almost fucking killed me when I encountered him, beat the crap out of me until I was black and blue…” You glanced away from him again, picking the skin around one of your nail beds, watching the dried blood flake off onto your sweater.

”…We should’ve waited for him…” You murmured, as Steve watched the way your eyes glossed over, like you were being transported somewhere else. Back to the alley. Where The Winter Soldier stared at you with those black eyes, drinking you in before he left you behind.

”We’ll get him back,” Steve said, his voice completely solid, leaving no room for doubt to peek in, “It’s just going to take a little longer…That’s all…”

——————

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into two months.

Two months of complete silence.

There was no word on Bucky. The extraction team had gone to Vienna three times and searched for him, but found nothing. The higher-ups refused to share any additional information with you and Steve, except for the same repeated line: “Be patient with us, we are doing what we can.”

It was hell.

Every night felt like a loop of that alley, his blood on your hands, the way he pressed his palm over your mouth, the wild look in his eyes that flickered with something more human than anyone expected. You couldn’t stop hearing your own heartbeat thundering in your ears as he disappeared into the shadows. You couldn’t stop thinking about whether he thought you left him on purpose.

You barely slept, and when you did you’d wake up the entire compound with your screaming. You didn’t eat much, just picked at whatever was made, nibbling until a wave of nausea took over and you were forced to stop. The others noticed, of course, they weren’t blind, so they kept their distance, tiptoeing around you while also trying to be supportive.

Natasha tried to keep you moving, dragging you to the training floor under the pretense of sharpening your form, but really, she was just trying to get you to feel something again. Bruce ran blood work on you twice, trying to figure out if the lack of appetite was caused by something physiological or if it was all in your head, but you could’ve saved him the trouble by telling him the truth.

You were heartbroken. That’s where your hunger strike and nightmares were coming from. It was plain and simple. This was the kind of heartbreak that sank deep into your marrow, made your body feel foreign, like your own skin was too heavy to carry. The kind that turned silence into something sharp that pressed against your chest until you had no choice but to gasp for air that never felt like enough.

Tony offered distractions in his own awkward way; projects, new tech for your suit, extra hands-on work in the lab. You tried once and ended up staring at a half-wired circuit board for an hour before leaving the screwdriver behind and going straight back to your room.

Steve stopped trying to push you after the third time he found you curled on the floor of the gym locker room, soaked in sweat and tears, fists raw from pounding the same bag until your knuckles split. After that, he didn’t try to give you pep talks anymore. Didn’t feed you false hope or ask you to stay strong. He just started sitting with you, whether it was on the balcony, or on the roof, rain or shine, it didn’t matter, he just wanted to make sure you had someone with you, and deep down inside, you appreciated his presence.

Then Sunday came.

You only remembered the day because Steve brought you coffee and sat on the balcony beside you, watching as you huddled into the blanket that was draped over your shoulders, the steam from the mug curling upward and kissing the morning air and your face. The sun was barely cresting over the skyline, serenading the clouds with its light, when your comm crackled to life beside you. You flinched at the noise, immediately putting your mug down on the coffee table, and picking up the device, bringing it to your ear.

”Go for Y/N,” You rasped, glancing over at Steve who was shifting in his spot, leaning forward a bit to tune into the call.

”We found him.” It was Hill. Her voice was curt, but quieter than her usual volume, soft and gentle, knowing that the information was going to hit you like a ton of bricks, “We got a ping from a remote safehouse on the outskirts of Hietzing. We got him. He’s alive.” Your eyes went wide, as your throat began to tighten.

“I-Is he okay?” You asked, your voice shaking, while a cool breeze brushed over your skin.

“Yes, but he’s sedated. We’re bringing him back to the compound now.” She replied, and it was like the world had shifted beneath your feet. You reached out to hold onto Steve’s arm, steadying yourself.

”ETA?”

“Four hours. I’ll keep you updated if there’s more information.” Then she hung up. You pulled the comm away from your ear, your hand shaking from the nerves that began to creep through your body, placing it beside your untouched coffee. Your eyes remained locked on some distant point beyond the skyline, body frozen, lungs tight, the word alive echoing over and over in your skull like a prayer you weren’t sure you deserved answered.

Steve’s hand wrapped gently around your wrist.

”Hey,” He said, drawing you out of your trance, “He’s coming back, that’s good news.” You blinked a few times, like you were trying to wake yourself from a fever dream, then you took in a deep breath, letting the ice cold air invade your lungs.

“He’s coming back…” You repeated. The knot that had been sitting in your chest for months, pulsing with guilt and fear, finally snapped loose. The tears came fast and silent, carving hot trails down your cheeks before you even noticed them. You didn’t sob, didn’t make a sound. It was like your body was too stunned to react the right way because of the relief that struck you.

Steve didn’t say anything. He just sat there with you, letting the silence carry the weight of it all. You wiped at your cheeks, sniffled softly, but the tears wouldn’t stop, but for once they weren’t due to sadness. He was alive, and that was all that mattered to you in those moments.

——————

The four hours dragged by like molasses.

You and Steve moved to the landing deck, wanting to be sure the both of you were the first ones that Bucky saw when he came off the jet.

Neither of you said much during the wait. Steve stood tall beside you, arms crossed over his chest, his face unreadable while he watched you pace along the marked up concrete. You were unable to keep still as your nerves twisted tighter and tighter with every passing minute. You were so anxious that it felt like your skin didn’t fit you properly.

The low roar of the jet’s engines thundered overhead, vibrating through your ribcage as it came into view. You stopped pacing. Steve straightened beside you, his arms slowly uncrossing as the both of you watched the aircraft descend onto the landing deck with a mechanical and gentle grace. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it, and every second that passed made your chest burn. Your hands trembled as the hydraulics hissed, the screech of metal settling into position echoing through the air. The engine cut out soon after, leaving everyone in total silence.

The ramp lowered with a deep groan, the steel creaking under the weight of anticipation. You didn’t breathe or move a single muscle. You were frozen in your spot, then your eyes caught the silhouette that made its way down, the sun casting down on him in the most glorious reveal.

It was him…It was Bucky.

His hair was longer than before, hanging just above his shoulders, but his face was the same. A little worn, maybe, but not broken. No bruises. No fresh scars. His bright eyes scanned the landing deck, alert and burning with something sharp and searching. His jaw clenched tight, his chest rose and fell heavy beneath a black tactical shirt stretched over a body that looked… Bigger. Somehow. Broader, thicker, even stronger than before. You blinked hard, almost in disbelief. He’d survived two months of god-knows-what, and somehow came back looking like an adonis.

“Bucky.” You breathed, then your legs began to move, and you took off. Your boots barely touched the ground as you sprinted towards him, your heart thundering against your chest like it wanted to break through your ribcage. His head snapped toward the heavy sound of your footsteps, and in those moments your name tumbled from his mouth with such softness that you could barely make out what he was saying.

He quickly moved down the ramp, opening up his arms to meet you halfway, bracing for impact as you collided in a soundless explosion. Your body launched into his, your arms immediately flying around his neck, legs wrapping and connecting behind his waist, catching you effortlessly, stumbling back a few paces before his arms slid around you, tightening like a vice grip.

You buried your face into his neck, and he exhaled like he had been holding his breath for two months. He squeezed you so tightly that it bordered on painful, but at that point you couldn’t care less. You inhaled shakily, drinking in his scent, one of many things you missed from him. He smelled like gunpowder, cedar smoke, and leather, with a hint of mint, you assumed he had a shower on the jet on the way over after he woke up from sedation, because there was no way he was pampering himself during the two months he was missing.

Bucky’s arms cinched tighter around your back, one hand fisting the fabric of your jacket like he didn’t trust the moment to be real unless he physically held something. His metal arm pressed into the curve of your spine, anchoring you to him while his flesh hand moved up to cradle the back of your head, fingers coming gripping your hair gently. His breath stuttered as he inhaled deeply, like the air in his lungs had been stale until now, like you were the only thing he trusted to fill his chest again.

”Jesus Christ, it really is you.” He whispered, disbelief cracking under his words. You pulled back just far enough to see him, bringing your hands up to cup the sides of his face, and it hit you all at once just how much you missed him. He looked up at you, his bright blue irises cascading over your face, taking in every detail, flickering with a raw tenderness that reached into the hollow of your ribs, a smile coming up on his lips.

”I’ve missed you so fucking much,” You said, voice cracking right down the middle of the sentence, “You have no idea what it’s been like without you…I didn’t know if you were dead. I didn’t know if you were alone or cold. God I didn’t even know if you were ever going to come back.” Bucky let out a soft, shuddering sound from his chest, sounding somewhere between a laugh and a breathless ache. While still clutching you tightly, he sank to the ground, sitting on the concrete with you still wrapped up in him.

”I was always going to find my way back to you,” He admitted, a smile drawing up on his lips, “Even if they never came for me…Even if it took fucking years…I would’ve crawled to the ends of the Earth, just to find you.” Your hands ran over his cheeks, the stubble grazing across your fingers with each stroke, your eyes scanning over his.

”I thought about you every day.” He murmured, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours, eyes closing to breathe you in, “You were in everything. I’d close my eyes just to see you.” His voice was so soft and tender in those moments that you felt your heart squeeze in your chest. Your hands slid from his jaw to the back of his neck, fingers threading into the longer strands of his hair, and your nose brushed his, your heavy breaths hitting his face, your lips hovering over his.

“You don’t have to do that anymore…Never again.” You whispered, seeing the way he smiled up at you in the softest way possible. His eyes tilted down to your lips, like he’d been starving and suddenly found the one thing that could sustain his hunger.

”I’ve been dying to kiss you…Can I-.” You didn’t let him finish his sentence, and not once did you consider the people around you at this point, you were so blinded by happiness that you let yourself do what needed to be done. You just crushed your mouth to his. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t tender. It was the kind of kiss that unmade you, devoured you, dragged you under and remade you from the ashes. Your lips clashed together in a frenzy, months of silence, longing, and suffering crashing into one impossibly desperate moment. His hands were everywhere, your waist, your back, your jaw, pulling you in like he could fuse you to his skin. Your hands clawed into his hair, anchoring yourself to him, needing to feel every inch, needing to know he was really there.

Bucky groaned into your mouth, the sound guttural and raw. You gasped, and he took it as an invitation, deepening the kiss with bruising hunger. His teeth grazed your lower lip and you moaned, chasing him like you’d die if you stopped. It was messy, breathless, too hard and too soft all at once, but it was everything. It was home.

You didn’t even realize the way he was holding you until your lungs screamed for air and you finally broke apart. Your chest heaved, mouth open against his, breathing each other in like you were one another’s oxygen, noses brushing, foreheads resting together as his hands cradled your face like you were the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

A soft clearing of a throat cut through the haze like a needle popping a balloon.

You both turned your heads in unison to see Steve standing a respectful distance away, arms still crossed, with a smirk draped on his lips. He wasn’t hiding the amused glint in his eye, though, or the quiet warmth he had for the both of you.

“I hate to be that guy,” Steve said, eyes flicking between the two of you with that Captain America patience, “But you’re technically sitting in the middle of the landing pad.” Bucky groaned, leaning his forehead back against yours with a sigh that almost sounded like a laugh.

”Thanks for the heads-up, Steve.” He responded, before turning his attention back to you, your gaze locking back onto his, your heart still hammering in your chest as you reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear.

”We should probably get you inside…Let you get your bearings and everything, maybe get you something to eat.” Bucky hummed, but didn’t make a move to unravel himself from you just yet, he just kept you against him for a second longer, before you leaned in one more time.

”We’ll pick up where we left off later tonight.” You whispered, watching as his eyes lit up at your words.

“Really?” He asked, voice low and hopeful. You kissed him once more, leaving it at a peck instead of letting it grow with intensity this time.

“You still have that private exhibit tour booked…With full access, remember?” You murmured, a smirk drawing up on your lips, winking at him a bit. He let out a soft laugh.

”God, you remembered that?” He questioned quietly, his cheeks heating up slightly as his arms unraveled from your waist so you could get up.

”I remember everything, ” You responded, holding your hand out to him, pulling him up to his feet, “And I’m looking forward to the cash in.” He smirked, giving you one last kiss before making your way off the landing pad wrapped up in each other’s warm embrace.

——————-

The team insisted on celebrating.

The moment Bucky was cleared by the med bay and had scarfed down a sandwich like he hadn’t eaten in days, Tony declared it a “welcome-the-hell-back party” and ordered enough food to feed an army. No one wanted to make him sit through anything formal or flashy, so it was takeout boxes, mismatched wine glasses, and laughter echoing through the Tower’s common room like nothing had changed.

You sat beside Bucky on the couch, thigh-to-thigh, the air thick with heat between the both of you. Everyone around you was relaxed, smiling, tossing jokes around like old times–it had been a while since everybody got together like this so the dynamic wasn’t anything short of unnatural.

Even throughout all of this, you were only able to focus on the quiet rhythm of Bucky’s breathing beside you, or the way his arms flexed against yours while he was eating his rice dish from the takeout container, or the way your body shifted every time his gaze lingered on you when you decided to chime in and make a comment of your own during a conversation.

You were trying to play it cool, but it was almost impossible when Bucky was in this state of admiration. You weren’t sure if people were noticing or choosing to ignore the very obvious signs, but they respected the idea of not acknowledging it just for tonight, especially with the context of the situation in general.

There was a low simmering ache of anticipation curling beneath your ribs, it wasn’t urgent, not yet at least. Not when the both of you knew how the night was going to end. The urgency would kick in behind closed doors, and that’s what you couldn’t wait for.

The night stretched on, and the conversations began to wind down. Sam was the first to call it a night, yawning exaggeratedly, and making a quick comment welcoming Bucky back, clapping him on the shoulder before leaving the common room.

Bruce left soon after, offering a small smile and a kind nod, taking a bottle of wine with him ‘for later.’ Natasha followed suit, shooting a lingering look to you, arching a brow at you with a quiet approval, cause she had been paying attention to both you and Bucky the entire night. She didn’t say anything, but the message was clear. Have fun, go make up for the lost time.

Tony and Clint wandered off to the roof together, talking about testing out some of his new glow in the dark arrows before heading to sleep. Then it was just Steve left, lingering near the kitchen island, nursing a drink. He let out a soft sigh.

”Well, I think I’m going to finish this off in my room.” He said, motioning to the glass, the ice clinking in the glass. The both of you glanced at him.

”Oh, okay, goodnight Steve.” You replied, a smile drawing up on your lips. He looked between the two of you one last time, a faint smile coming up on his face.

”Try not to break anything.” He joked, taking another sip of his drink before walking down the hallway, leaving your sight, the door to his quarters clicking shut moments later.

And just like that, it was only the two of you.

Instantly the room felt different, like the walls had closed in around you both, pressing you two together, drawing you closer. You turned to look at Bucky, not surprised he was already watching you, eyes soft but lust filled, his tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek like he was trying to keep himself in control. The dim lighting of the common room casted small yellowed shadows over the both of you, the silence settling within the space. You could feel your cheeks heat up as you stood up slowly, holding out a hand to him.

His fingers curled around yours with a quiet desire that you’d felt simmering beneath the surface all night. His grip was gentle as he stood up from the couch, letting you lead him out of the common room. You guided him down the hallway, you were the first door on the right, and you wasted no time pushing it open, dragging him in with you.

Before you could close the door yourself, Bucky’s hand shot out, slamming it shut with a force that rattled the frame, your back meeting it soon after. You gasped at how fast he moved, only to have your breath stolen when his mouth crashed against yours with the kind of hunger that only two months of separation could build. He wanted to taste every inch of you, as if he would disappear if he didn’t consume you whole right then and there.

You moaned into the kiss, fingers scrambling to find purchase, one going to his broad, thick shoulder, while the other sank into his hair tugging just enough to earn a guttural growl from him, his chest vibrating against yours. He caged you in against the door with his body, his hips pressing against yours, wanting to feel every part of you.

His vibranium hand slid along your waist, slipping beneath the sweater you were wearing, the coolness of it shocking the heat that saturated your skin. His touch made your knees weaken, a breathy sound escaping you as his mouth pulled off yours, carving out their own path down your jaw, straight to the tender spot just beneath your ear, sucking and biting along the sensitive skin, making his first mark on you, pulling back to watch it bloom a dark red, returning quickly to continue his descent down your throat. The scraping of his stubble along your flesh sent goosebumps along your body, a small gasp escaping you.

”God I missed you so much.” He whispered, his hot breath sticking to your skin, peppering a kiss along the column of your throat, his tongue slipping out to lick your pulse point, before sucking gently.

“Bucky,” You moaned, arching into him, your thighs already trembling, as he slid his knee between your legs, guiding them apart just enough for his body to nestle even closer to you, the friction causing your lashes to flutter. Your fingers curled in his hair as his mouth pressed hot, wet kisses on your neck until he reached the collar of your sweater, feeling the thick bulge in his pants pressing against your hip.

”Let’s move to the bed…” He murmured, lifting you up effortlessly, “You deserve more than the door.” He joked, earning a giggle from you, as he dropped you down onto the duvet that covered your mattress, immediately covering your body with his, settling between your thighs.

”Tell me what you want,” He said, pushing your hair away from your face with his vibranium hand, “Anything. I’ll give it to you.” You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb stroking the stubble there.

”I just want you. I want you so fucking bad.” He nodded, leaning down to kiss you again, his tongue sweeping over yours, before sitting back on his knees to look at you, peeling his shirt off and throwing it to the side in one quick motion. You felt your jaw clench, your eyes roaming over the new scars that muddled his skin, your hands coming up instantly to touch them, the muscles beneath your fingers tensing up. You explored slowly, lovingly, like you were relearning the man you’d ached for every night he was gone. Your palms flattened over his chest, his heart hammering beneath your hands, and when you looked up at him again, Bucky’s expression had softened, his hands reaching to hold your wrists gently.

”Your turn.” He whispered, slowly pushing your hands off his stomach, and reaching for the hem of your sweater. You sat up to help him, pressing a soft kiss to his sternum, before raising your arms above your head, allowing him to pull the fabric off of you, throwing it to the side. You laid back down against the bed, looking up at him, watching as his eyes roamed over you like he hadn’t seen your body in years. His vibranium hand pressed to the curve of your waist, the cool temperature sending a shiver through your spine, while the other reached up to cup the underside of your breast through the soft, thin material of your bra.

”Cream…” He breathed, dragging his thumb over the trim that lined the cup “Of course you’d wear something soft and pretty like this.” He commented, feeling your nipple harden beneath his palm. You smirked at his comment, biting your lip as your cheeks heated up even more.

”Take it off for me.” He instructed softly, tracing small patterns along your waist with the tips of his cool vibranium fingers, watching you lean up and reach behind yourself, unclasping the bra slowly. You let the straps slip from your shoulders, before gently letting the cups fall away, revealing your breasts to him.

The second your bra hit the floor, Bucky’s hands were all over you, tracing over the scar that went between your chest, like it was his version of the sign of the cross, it was his way of showing you he wanted to let you in. His warm hand slipped to the side to cup one breast, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak of your nipple, as his vibranium hand mapped over the other one, spanning over the curve of it, squeezing gently.

”Jesus Christ…You’re so fucking perfect.” He whispered, your back arching into his hands instinctively, your eyes staying on his as he dipped his head down, closing his mouth around your nipple, sucking slow and deep, his tongue swirling and pressing against it with just enough pressure that it made your toes curl. Your fingers tangled into his hair instantly, pulling him closer to you, feeling the bulge in his pants grinding against your already soaking core.

“Bucky…” Was all that fell from your mouth, as he groaned against your skin, switching to the other breast, licking a long, warm stripe over the soft flesh, flicking his tongue across your nipple, then drawing it between his lips, giving it a gentle bite.

“You make the sweetest sounds.” He mumbled, his voice muffled by your breast. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued to alternate between breasts, blowing against the saliva that coated the skin so that he could overwhelm the sensations that crashed over you.

“You like when I touch you like this, huh?” You nodded quickly, breath stuttering with each little flick of his tongue.

”Yes…God yes, please d-don’t stop.” His mouth curled into a grin against your chest, as he began his descent down your body, licking down the scar, trailing over to your ribs, trying his best not to miss any skin that was exposed to him, wanting to paint the most worshipful path down your body.

”I won’t stop until you tell me to.” He whispered, kissing the soft swell of your stomach, his tongue dragging down past your navel, his stubble scratching against your skin as he stopped right above the waistband of your pants. You were already panting, your hips raising off the mattress ever so slightly, squirming beneath him, silently pleading for him to continue. Bucky looked up at you through his dark lashes.

”Can I take these off?” He asked, his fingers already curling under the waistband. You nodded instantly.

”Yes…Please.” You said breathlessly. He smiled up at you, tugging the fabric down slowly, dragging your panties along with them in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bare in front of him. He threw everything to the side, watching as your legs parted for him, his breath catching in his throat at the sight.

”Fuck…Y/N.” Was all he could manage to get out, as his gaze locked onto your soaked, glistening folds, “You’re already so fucking wet, and I haven’t even touched you properly yet.” He said, his hands sliding up your thighs, your body reacting to the lovely contrast they both provided, while he leaned down to press an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your knee, moving higher with each one. He kissed all the way up until his mouth was just hovering over where you needed him the most, his hot breath causing your core to flutter around nothing.

Then he stepped back. You leaned up onto your elbows, confused at what he was doing, until he curled his arms under your knees and pulled you down the bed. You gasped loudly at the quick movement, feeling your thighs hanging off the mattress, while your ass was just teetering on the very edge. A small smile came up on his lips as he dropped to his knees in front of you, kneeling between your legs, his hands spreading you open gently.

”Look at you,” He whispered, his eyes drinking you in, “You’re dripping for me.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, biting down on the soft flesh to elicit a gasp from you, before leaning forward, licking you in one long, slow, indulgent stroke, lapping up the juices that already coated your folds. You let out a sharp gasp, your hips jerking slightly, as Bucky’s strong, muscular arms wrapped around your thighs, locking you in place as he devoured you.

His tongue circled your clit slowly, then flicked it with just enough pressure to make your thighs clench around his neck. He moaned into you, the vibration causing you to tremble beneath him.

“Fuck.” He murmured, “You taste so fucking good…” He added, moving back in to take your clit between his lips, sucking gently as his tongue began to trace lazy circles against it, his arms holding you open to him, rendering you completely helpless under his mouth. Your hips jerked against his face, but that only made him hold you tighter.

“You’re so fucking soft.” He praised, as your fingers reached down, threading into his thick hair, gripping tightly when he flattened his tongue against you, licking slow, unrelenting strokes over your clit, moaning into you, the vibration making your thighs close around his head.

You were panting now, completely exposed and at his mercy, and the way he looked up at you through his lashes while his tongue moved in the slow rhythm he found nearly broke you.

”I missed this so fucking much,” He whispered, kissing your clit softly “Missed the way you taste, the way you fall apart for me…God, I fucking just missed you.” He added, licking you again–deeper now, tongue sliding between your folds, pushing into your entrance briefly before he slipped a finger into you. Your breath hitched, as one of your hands slid out from his mane of hair, grabbing onto his vibranium arm.

”So fucking warm.” He groaned, adding a second finger, curling them inside you slowly, pressing against that little spot that made your legs buckle.

”Fuck Bucky, right there.” You moaned.

“I know sweetheart…Let me feel you hmm?” He rasped, his tongue returning to your clit, flicking in soft wet stroke, perfectly in rhythm with the way he fucked his fingers into you. You closed your eyes tightly, pushing his face into you even more, grinding up into his mouth as you started to lose control.

”Don’t stop, oh my god…Please don’t stop.” You begged, feeling him shake his head, not breaking his rhythm.

”I won’t.” He replied, voice thick with lust, as he shifted slightly, grabbing onto your hand, intertwining your fingers, your hips continuing to grind desperately against his face, seeking more.

”Bucky.” You sobbed, your voice totally wrecked between gasps.

“I know baby…I know.” His tongue returned to that devastating rhythm–press, flick, suck– perfectly in time with his fingers, which began to pick up speed, curling in just the right spot.

Everything inside you tightened, winding and coiling until everything snapped, as the pleasure bloomed so deep it hurt. Your thighs pressed around his head, your back arching off the bed, feeling your breath catching in your throat.

You came with a sharp, desperate cry, your body convulsing, clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashed through you like a tidal wave. Your hand squeezed his, the other fisting into his hair, overwhelmed by the sheer force of it.

Bucky didn’t stop though, he moaned into you like your climax was his own, lapping up every single drop you gave him, dragging his tongue softly over your clit while you whimpered through the aftershocks.

“You’re so fuckinng beautiful when you come.” He whispered, finally lifting his head just enough to breathe. You glanced down at him, seeing how utterly wrecked he looked, his chin slick, lips glistening with your arousal, and his eyes heavy with need. He kissed the inside of your thigh, grounding you as you slowly came down from your high, his hand still holding onto yours tightly.

“Incredible.” He breathed, nipping at the sensitive flesh on the side of your knee, kissing the little mark gently, still looking up at you, his pupils blown wide, and shimmering. You let out a soft, shaky sigh, as your fingers drifted through his hair, combing the strands back away from his face, a small content hum escaping his throat, his lips pulling off your skin, another mark blooming along the flesh.

”Need me to get you some water before we continue?” He asked, slowly removing his fingers from you, shyly licking your arousal off of them, taking time with each one. You could feel your cheeks heat up at the sight, unraveling your hand from his hair.

”I think that would be a good idea.” Bucky smiled, placing one more kiss on the inside of your thigh, before standing up from his kneeling position, adjusting himself slightly to hide his erection, and wiping off his chin, attempting to conceal the evidence of what was happening inside the room.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move.” He joked, leaning over to give you a quick peck, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips.

”Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.” He smirked at your comment, pulling away quickly, sneaking out of the bedroom, leaving you completely alone. Your skin was humming where he kissed you, every inch of your body vibrating with the aftershocks that traveled through you. Slowly, you raised from the bed, shifting yourself up the mattress to slip under the covers, a low ache blooming between your thighs where he had worked you open so perfectly, where he had devoured your soul, still feeling the wet imprints of his mouth where he had kissed along your skin. You exhale shakily, settling against the pillow, waiting quietly in anticipation for the next moment you had him next to you.

The door creaked open softly, as Bucky slipped into the room again with two glasses of water in his hands. His hair stood up in all directions, cheeks still flushed a deep red, with a grin plastered on his lips noticing how plump they were from overworking you. He shuffled towards the bed, holding out the glass of water to you.

”Thanks,” You said, taking it from him, your heart flipping at the gesture, his fingers brushing against yours, giving you a nod, before stepping around to his side of the bed, avoiding the pile of clothes on the floor. He set his own glass down on the nightstand, turning to the side so the thick planes of his back were exposed to you, watching as he looked around your room, taking in all the little details that were plastered along the walls and the tops of your dressers. You took a sip of your water, feeling the coolness invade your chest, bringing you a temporary relief from the heat that burned through your flesh.

He continued to look around your room, staring at a small framed photo of you and Nat.

“That was my first mission back after I was released from the hospital.” You explained, putting the glass down on the bedside table.

”You look so different.” He responded, turning back to you, seeing you smirking.

”Well…People do change.” He let out a soft laugh, moving towards the top of the bed, slipping the duvet down the mattress, the cool air kissing up your legs, before slowly pushing the fabric of his pants down his thick, muscular thighs, stepping out of them one leg at a time. You felt your jaw tense, your eyes roaming over him with nothing but hunger. He stood in nothing but his black boxer briefs, the smooth fabric pulled tight across his hips, and there was no hiding the thick outline of his erection pressing against it, begging to be released from its confines. You felt your thighs clench together, just drinking him in like he was your choice of alcohol. His body looked like it had been carved from marble, and it was evident that he really was working out during the time he was away from you just by the difference in the way his skin stretched along the expanse of muscle.

Bucky blushed beneath your gaze as he slipped under the covers, the mattress creaking with the weight of him pressing down on it, as he turned onto his side to face you. For a moment, neither of you moved, you just absorbed each other's heat, eyes trailing over each other.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, reaching up to brush his fingers down your cheek, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip. You bit the tip gently, before taking his wrist into your hand, guiding down to rest on your bare hip, as you shifted closer to him, your leg instinctively lifting to curl over his waist, drawing your slick heat against the hard outline of his erection, wetting the fabric of his briefs.

“Jesus…You’re going to ruin me.” He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. You smiled softly, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, letting your fingertips roam over a scar that bisected his collarbone.

”Good, then we’ll be even.” He laughed under his breath, closing the space between you, kissing you with all the control he had left in his body. His lips moved against yours like he wanted to savor all of it, even though he knew he was going to have all the time in the world to do this a thousand times over.

His hand slid up from your hip, gliding along your ribs, feeling the indents of your scars, tracing them until he reached your throat, curling his hand around it. He didn’t squeeze, but the possessiveness of the gesture alone made your breath stutter, his palm resting flat against the skin as his thumb brushed over your pulse point, feeling it accelerating beneath his touch with each gentle stroke. He pulled away from the kiss, his shaky breath sticking against your wet lips, as his eyes locked onto yours with a heat so tender it made your chest ache.

”You’re mine…” He whispered, like a promise and prayer wrapped up into one statement, “I’m never going to leave you again…Not like I did in the alley.” You swallowed, your throat bobbing beneath his hand, as you reached up to hold his wrist.

”Even if you do…You’ll always find your way back…” You responded, breathless, feeling him gently squeeze your neck, surging forward to kiss you again, rolling his hips against you, the friction of the movements driving you mad in an instant, your arousal soaking into his briefs. You could feel his lips turning up against yours, satisfied with how wet you were still, so prepared. He pulled back, peppering kisses along your jaw.

”Bucky, please…Please I need you.” You whimpered, your hips arching up to meet the slow grind of his, writhing beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulder.

”I’ll give you everything you need.” He replied, feeling the sharp sting kissing his skin as you scratched down his back, hissing at the burn.

”Fuck,” He breathed, his hips stalling for a moment, looking down at you, “You’re gonna leave so many marks on me.” You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth.

”That’s the idea.” He let out a small laugh.

”Want me to carry around the evidence of our night? You think that’s hot?” You nodded.

”Just marking my territory.” Another laugh came out of him, his chest vibrating against yours.

“Touché I guess.” He responded, his lips brushing over yours again, before shifting slightly, creating a little space between the both of you so he could reach down with his free hand to push his briefs off himself, just enough to let his cock out from the dampened fabric, letting the weight of it settle against your soaked folds.

He didn’t move at first, staying still with his forehead pressed to yours, breathing heavily, the both of you exchanging air, like he knew the moment he started moving he would begin to unravel. His lips ghosted over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, exploring every crevice as you reached down, your fingers curling around the base of him, eliciting a groan that vibrated through your chest.

”Jesus Christ.” He rapsed, pulling away from your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as you guided him through your arousal, teasing the tip along your entrance, “I can tell I’m not going to last.” He commented, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of your warmth pressing against the head of his erection, his thumb brushing over your pulse point again.

“I don’t even care…I just want to feel you inside me.” Those words alone almost made him cum right then and there, the desperation growing between the both of you, the craving of just wanting to be connected again. He didn’t need to waste anymore time.

His body trembled against yours as he angled his hips, nudging at your entrance, before slowly pushing in, feeling you stretching around him, your walls welcoming him back with the warmth that he missed. Your mouth fell open, gasping, your back arching off the mattress as he bottomed out in you, his hips meeting yours with a shuddering breath, stilling inside you.

”Fuck Y/N…You feel like home.” He moaned, kissing along your face, your eyes brimming with tears from the sheer closeness, from how right everything felt in those moments. You reached up blindly, needing to touch him, desperately attempting to anchor yourself. He caught your wrist with his vibranium hand, knowing exactly what you needed, as he threaded his fingers through yours, pinning the intertwined hands beside your head, using this as an opportunity to begin to move.

Each thrust was deliberate, angled perfectly within you so he could get as deep as possible, so he wouldn’t miss feeling a single spot. You could feel every inch of him dragging against your walls, his body molding to yours like there had never been space between you at all. His mouth stayed near yours, breathing you in, kissing you between moans, between whimpers, between the breathless begging. You were completely surrounded by him; his scent, his warmth, his breath panting against your lips. His hand stayed firm around your throat, never squeezing, just holding, just claiming.

“Look at me,” Bucky whispered, his hair tickling your face, voice cracking on the edge of a moan, “Need…Need to see you.” You opened your eyes slowly meeting the desperate irises that you had grown to love, seeing the completely wrecked look painted across all his features. His brows were furrowed, lips parted and swollen from crashing them against yours, and his skin was flushed red, with a sheen film of sweat. There was no disguising the desperation in his expression, as it mirrored your own, his hips bucking against you a little harder, still keeping his pace, dragging himself so deep that you whimpered his name like a prayer.

”Bucky…” You gasped, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes, “I missed you so fucking much.” You said, unable to stop yourself from reminding him how much you wanted him there with you for the past two months, your nails dragging along the muscles of his back with your free hand.

”I know Y/N…I dreamed of you every night…I’m…Fuck I’m so happy I’m back with you,” He breathed, his voice thick with emotion, his forehead pressing to yours again, lips trembling as he kissed the corner of your mouth, moaning when your walls clenched around him. He closed his eyes tightly, before leaning forward again to claim your lips with his.

The kiss wasn’t pretty, it was messy, soaking in need, with teeth clacking, and mouths parted wide, breaths intermingling together. You gasped into him as he rolled his hips again, and his own moan spilled into your mouth, long and low and unraveling. You could feel him shaking above you, his whole body trembling from the effort of keeping himself at the slow pace he was going, wanting to last, to savor you, to make up for every second he lost.

Your nails dragged hard along his back again, leaving a fresh trail of angry red lines across his skin, eliciting a groan as he pulled away from your lips.

”Fuck…” He choked, hips stuttering just slightly, chest heaving against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him in even closer, impossibly close, clinging to him, his vibranium hand squeezing yours.

”I need all of you.” He nibbled softly on your jaw before kissing it, moving faster now, thrusting deep with each snap of his hip with a pace that nearly made you cry, his thumb pressing into your pulse with just a little bit of pressure, drawing out a soft gasp from you, watching your face, the way it contorted, your mouth dropping open to take in short breaths of air, nails still marking his back.

“Jesus…You’re my weakness.” The words fell out of his mouth, and you could feel your eyes shoot open, tears pooling in the corners, already blurring your vision, his pace slowing so he didn’t overwhelm you.

”Y-You really were in there?” He smiled at you, leaning down to kiss you gently, his hand leaving your throat to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing just beneath your eye, wiping away a stray tear.

“You tethered me to him…Even when he had taken over, and I was pushed into the dark…I could still hear your voice and feel you when you touched his chest.” He explained, his confession spilling into the space between your bodies while he rolled his hips against yours again, kissing away the salty tears that came down your cheeks, “Are you okay?” You nodded immediately.

”I’m just…I’m just relieved I wasn’t wrong.” He laughed a bit.

”Of course that’s what you are concerned about.” He murmured, kissing the side of your neck, as his hand gave yours a light squeeze before letting go, his other arm curling around your waist to angle you better against him, so the head of his erection grazed over the spot that made you writhe beneath him.

“Oh my fucking god Bucky.” You gasped, melting into another moan, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, your hips now rocking into his, rolling against his thrusts, meeting his hips, chasing your release with reckless abandon.

”I’ve got you…Always going to have you.” He whispered. Your walls clenching around him, a moan falling from his lips, losing himself to the feeling of you pulling him in. Then suddenly, his arms locked around your back, lifting you as he sat up, bringing you chest to chest with him, his cock still buried deep inside of you. You gasped at the new position, your thighs tightening around him, your bodies pressed so close it felt like your hearts were beating in tandem with one another. His mouth instantly peppering wet kisses along the tops of your breasts, your nails digging into his shoulders again at the sensation of his cock pressing against your cervix.

“Holy fuck,” You whimpered, clinging to him, as he thrusted up into you, hitting so deep that you nearly sobbed in ecstasy. The wet sound of your bodies moving together filled the air between the moans, the slick, obscene slap of skin against skin only adding to the fire burning behind your ribs. Your arms tightened around his neck, rocked against him, your hips meeting the frantic thrusts of his, your bodies colliding in that perfect mess of desperation and worship, your walls pulsing around him.

“I’m not gonna last.” He groaned, his voice totally wrecked, tracing up to your collarbone with his lips.

”Please don’t stop…” You gasped, grinding down against him harder, chasing every ounce of friction, “I need you to cum in me…I need all of it.” The begging was the thing that got him instantly. His head fell back with a strangled moan, hips bucking up wildly as he lost himself to the way your walls gripped him, the heat and slickness of you dragging him straight over the edge. You felt him twitch deep inside just a heartbeat before he cried out your name, and spilled into you with a moan that shook through every inch of his body.

The warmth of it hit you fast, thick and hot, coating your insides with every desperate pulse of his release. You gasped, your walls fluttering around him, still clenching as your own orgasm chased his, sending tremors through your limbs. The pressure built so sharp and blinding that you buried your face into his neck, crying out, and biting down, your body locking against his as the world tilted on its axis.

Bucky held you through it, his arms wrapped completely around you, one hand splaying on the small of your back while the other cradled your head. He didn’t stop pressing kisses to your skin even as both of you slumped forward, his cock still seated inside you, twitching with aftershocks, his spend already beginning to leak from your folds and drip down his length.

You both stayed still for a long time, panting, tangled up, sweat-slicked and trembling in each other’s arms.

“Wow.” You whispered into his neck, kissing against the bite mark you left on the tender flesh, your heartbeat finally steadying.

“That was…Amazing.” He murmured, his voice still rough from the aftermath of everything you just did. You smiled lazily at his words, your fingers tracing over the raised scratch marks that you had left on his back.

“We’re gonna be so sore tomorrow.” He let out a soft laugh at your comment, pulling back so he could press his forehead to yours.

”Definitely worth the soreness I think.” He replied, earning a nod of agreement from you. The both of you stayed wrapped around each other, too content to move, his hand tracing slow circles against your lower back.

Eventually, he shifted, pulling out slowly, a gasp escaping your throat from the unexpected emptiness you felt, as he laid you down on the mattress. Bucky’s hand lingered on your thigh for a moment, his thumb stroking the soft skin as he stared down at the mess between your legs–his release trickling from your pulsing core.

”I’ll be right back.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. You gave him a small hum in response, too blissed out to form words, your body still tingling from your orgasm, the cool air brushing over your sweat-slicked skin. The mattress shifted as Bucky padded over to the en suite bathroom, turning the sink on. You listened closely, hearing the cabinet door creaking open, before closing soon after, then the water closed, hearing him return to you, crawling onto the bed beside you with a small wet towel.

”Let’s get you cleaned up hm?” You nodded gently, shifting just enough to let him ease your legs apart again, his large hand cradling the outside of your thigh with a tenderness that made your throat tighten. The towel was warm, damp and soft, and he moved so slowly–wiping the insides of your thighs, cleaning the sticky mess that had begun to cool against your skin. You watched him as he worked, his brows slightly furrowed, lips parted in quiet concentration. There was something utterly domestic about the moment, Bucky, post-orgasm, still flushed and damp, eyes gentle and full of something you could only describe as tenderness, carefully cleaning the mess he left behind.

“You okay?” He asked, glancing up at you with a little wrinkle in his brow, his hair falling in front of his face. You reached for him, brushing the damp strands off of his forehead with trembling fingers, your touch lingering on his temple before sliding down to cup his stubbly cheek.

”I’m more than okay.” You replied, a smile appearing on your lips, as he brought his free hand up to hold onto your wrist, turning his head to kiss your palm.

”Just making sure.” He breathed, giving you one last gentle swipe with the towel before double-checking for anything he might’ve missed.

Satisfied with his work, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hip, before shifting off the bed to put the towel into the appropriate basket. You let out a small sigh, turning onto your side, pulling the covers up to your neck. Bucky returned quietly, the soft padding of his bare feet barely audible against the floor. The room had settled into that perfect kind of silence, heavy with the warm afterglow and the calm that only came after something deeply intimate. You felt the mattress dip behind you as he climbed back into bed, his arm sliding around your waist instantly, pulling your back against his chest.

You let out a small, content sigh, your hand finding his forearm beneath the covers, bringing it up so you could hold it in front of you. His nose nudged against your ear, his hot breath sticking to your neck.

”I’m so grateful for you.” He whispered, kissing your shoulder gently, as his vibranium arm slid under your pillow, wrapping across your chest to pull you into him even more, so he could slot himself in the crook of your neck. Your body melted into his, your eyes fluttering shut as you traced your hand up his forearm.

”I’m grateful for you too, Bucky.” You replied, feeling his chest vibrate against your back as he hummed softly.

“Still can’t believe I’m here.” He said quietly, nuzzling his chin into your neck.

”You’re here, and you’re not going anywhere.” You responded sleepily.

”Not a fucking chance.” He shot back, laughing lightly against your skin. There was a pause between the both of you, one of those long cozy silences where nothing else had to be said. You felt safe for the first time since you two were separated, and your body was exhausted yet full of warmth, giving into the sleepiness that began to catch up to you from the countless nights you laid awake waiting for good news.

“Do you need to sleep on the floor?” You asked out of nowhere, your voice light and curious, as your fingers ran over the vibranium of his arm, right where it rested over your chest. Bucky snorted behind you.

”I think I’ll be okay as long as I’m beside you.” He grumbled, pressing into you more.

”You sure? I might snore…You might regret this decision really quickly.” You joked, feeling him shift behind you, leaning forward so he could see the smile that was already plastered on your face.

”First off…You never snore, and second…If you did, I’d take every snore, every blanket tug, and every toss and turn with pride…Just to fall asleep next to you like this.” You felt your cheeks heat up.

”You’re getting all poetic on me, Bucky.” He placed a gentle kiss on your warm cheek.

”Well, I guess you bring that out of me.” He commented, his fingers drawing absent circles over your skin, “Do you want me to turn the TV on for you, since we’re talking about our sleep traumas.” You shook your head.

”No, I think I’ll be okay…I’ve got a super soldier with a vibranium arm protecting me.” Bucky couldn’t help but let out a laugh at your response, the warmth of his breath sticking to your neck.

“Yeah, you’re right about that…Nobody would be getting through me.” He responded, pressing another kiss to your shoulder before letting the room slip into a quiet hush. Your breath evened out in time with his, tangled under the blankets, skin pressed to skin, surrounded by warmth and the soft scent of each other.

And as the last flickers of consciousness slipped away, you felt him kiss your hair one last time, a barely-there brush of his lips, promising you tomorrow, and the rest of his days.

[sweetshuga]

Roommates 5 ✧ CS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

roomie!chris! Looking for his camo tee—not knowing you had taken it.

You watched as Chris got ready to go out, and as per usual, he asked you where his things were. "You seen my tee? The uh, the camo one," you felt your stomach drop, "no? It's probably in the laundry or something." You reasoned, getting up from the couch. "I checked the laundry, my closet, well, everywhere in my room, I can’t find it," you let out a small laugh, "kid, do you even find anything? It's probably somewhere in your room and you just can’t find it," you started to walk away, to your room.

Chris groaned and called out, "if you find it, throw it on my bed or sum’, m’gonna go out now!" You shouted a simple okay from your room and waited until the front door clicked shut before peeking out from your room. You looked around – to see if Chris was really gone – just to calm your nerves even though you knew he was out. A sigh of relief slipped through your lips as you tentatively opened the door to his room, his camo t-shirt clutched in your free hand.

You walked inside, your heart thumping against your chest as you approached his bed, neatly folding his t-shirt before putting it carefully on the foot of his bed. You looked around his room, taking in his furniture and decorations, until something caught your eyes. A small piece of peach coloured frilly fabric sticking out from inside the small drawer by his bed. You approached it and opened the drawer—your eyes widened, it was a pair of thongs that looked awfully like the one you couldn’t find.

𓆩♡𓆪

You closed the door of his bedroom, confusion etched on your features as you walked back to your room. "It’s probably not mine, just a similar pair from some other girl," you mumbled to yourself, but the pit in your stomach said otherwise.

Rule number 5: Respect each other’s boundaries.

𓆩♡𓆪

rule. 1 2 3 4 6 7 Origin

wc. 321

note. English is not my first language—if you didn't catch on with my poor vocabulary and writing skills.

Isa's notes. Featuring the camo tee from rule number 3.

Taglist: @certified-sturniolo @sturnioloszn

© sweetshuga

[nekomamiiz]

kuroo — 550 words

tags; fem!reader, established relationship, oral (f! receiving), referring to female anatomy as 'her', some cockwarming, lowercase intentional, tetsurou is certified adorkable

divider by @/cafekitsune

kuroo sometimes has conversations with your pussy… 

i cannot stop thinking about him catching you lounging on the sofa as he walks in the house. you hear some rustling of the objects in his hands and within seconds he's on top of you, kissing your lips, trailing down your neck and chest.

he lifts your shirt and tucks his head under the fabric, licking, kissing, and biting the skin on your tummy.

he finally gets to the place he’s been thinking about all day. he taps your thigh and you lift slightly so he can remove whatever article of clothing you have covering yourself. he slides the material down your legs and rests your thighs on his shoulders

“god i’ve missed you so much,” he practically shivers when he finally gets a face full of your perfect cunt. his fingers digging into your skin, tongue already slipping out to wet his lips.

“i missed you too, tetsu,” you say with a giggle, probably hiding your face behind the book you're reading.

“oh yeah,” he blinks twice. “yeah i missed you too,” he regards you with the most guilty expression you’ve ever seen and he tries to give you an endearing smile as his eyes shift from your face to your pussy.

it doesn’t work, he’s already been caught. 

“if you wanted me to be ready for you, you could’ve just called ahead of time,” your voice dips an octave lower—sugary sweet—and it makes him groan, causing him to grind his hips against the couch.

“let me just spend some time here, okay? i’ve been thinking about this all day, wanna make my girl feel good.” 

he does exactly that. you come twice thanks to his skillful tongue and he wastes no time after that to strip you down, settling you onto his lap, his hands on your ass as he bounces you up and down on his cock. 

he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous lost in pleasure, and he knows he's the only one who can get you to this point. that thought alone sends him over the edge, but he’s nowhere near finished with you yet. 

he carries you to the bedroom, your naked body wrapped tight around his, your laughter reverberates through your shared home and he finally settles you on the bed. he hovers over you, peppering your face in kisses as he did before. 

“okay now let me say good night and put her to sleep,” he chuckles as he makes his way down to your dripping center, glistening with your combined fluids. 

he licks between your folds once and places a soft kiss on your clit, you hear him whisper ‘good night pretty’ from where he’s at and then he makes his way back up to you. he quickly slips his cock back inside you and you can’t help but stare at him in disbelief.

“what?” he asks as wraps his arms around you. 

“you’re still the same dork i fell in love with all those years ago,” you tease and he can’t help but chuckle at your words. 

“good to know i’ve still got it then.” he says with one more kiss to your cheek. 

you wake up a few hours later with his head between your thighs.

again.

couldnt get this out of my mind and wrote it on my lunch break yesterday, it ain't much but it's honest work aka this might b trash ahaha anyway i hope you enjoy <3

[ddejavvu]

I’ve never sent in a thirsty thought before 🥲 but I think Eddie is a certified panty sniffer personally

i def think i've written that for him before but i'll one-up it. when he gets a little more famous w his music and he maybe starts getting booked for gigs instead of begging to play at bars, he ups his rockstar wardrobe. he starts getting more and more into the fashion aspect and he ends up making an arm cuff out of your panties in his attempt to cover his arms in both tattoos and accessories. he knots the fabric around his arm before he goes out on stage and one of two things happens:

1.) they're clearly panties, maybe a thin, sheer lace with a little bow, and everyone goes insane over them, either trying to figure out whose they are, or if you're public w him, freaking out that he's always got your panties on him.

2.) they're something more subtle, maybe even granny panties that he loves even if they're not skimpy and shaped. no one realizes that the band around his wrist is your underwear but they do notice that he changes all of his accessories except for that one.

or maybe they're hanging out of his pocket like his bandana or a lanyard would be. he makes them a fashion statement, he wants the world to know he took them right off of you.

[manias-wordcount]

Special Treatment (Takehisa Hinawa, Akitaru Obi)

Kinktober 2024 Day Twenty-Eight: Body Worship

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢���𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Everyone told you that if you had to join one of the Special Fire Force Companies, you avoid eight at all costs.

They were the youngest out of all the Special Companies and always seemed to be caught up in the type of business that would make just about anyone nervous about coming in for work. The type of place that nice girls like you shouldn’t be, apparently.

But when you toured there, everyone was so kind to you. The Captain was attentive as he showed you around the facilities. The Lieutenant answered all your questions and didn’t make you feel bad whenever you felt that you were asking something stupid. You even got along well with the others the younger members of the company too. Watching Shinra and Arthur squabble about the dumbest things made you feel like you feel like you had a set of little brothers who just refused to get along. Tamaki reminded you of yourself when you were younger. Iris was as sweet as can be. And connecting with Maki was like a dream come true since the two of you were only a few years apart. 

So to you, it was no surprise that you ended that tour with an hour-long session of signing and going over paperwork- certifying that they were going to take you on their team in a position best suited their needs and your abilities. And it was no surprise that you were invited back to the Company for a uniform fitting in a couple of days so you’d be ready when you were officially scheduled for your first day. It only seemed natural, after all. But this…?

This was anything but natural.

“Really don’t want to have to hide all this body in such a bulky uniform.” Captain Obi murmured right by your ear. His voice was low- heavier sounding than it was a couple of days ago. It caused an involuntary shiver to run down your spine, and a second later you can hear the deep rumble of his laughter come out just as clearly. Instantly, you feel a burning sensation on your cheeks, instantly signaling how flustered and affected you were by his words. Something you could only hope would go unnoticed by the two men. Not that it mattered much at this point anyway. “How about we just keep you at the office, hmm? Right where it’s safe.”

They had already seen enough of you.

You were just in the middle of changing out of your street clothes in a closet they let you borrow for the time being when Lieutenant Hinawa stepped inside. The back zipper to your dress was stuck and you had just managed to suck in your pride and try to call for Maki when Lieutenant Hinawa came inside to check on you. He seemed empathetic to your plight and how no problem with stepping behind you and attempting to take on the zipper for himself. Though you hardly noticed how much success he made with his attempts before he ended up calling Captain Obi in for backup.

You were too busy focusing on the hand Lieutenant Hinawa had placed on the small of your back, wondering if he could feel just how nervous you were. But luckily, Captain Obi came to your recuse a minute later, strolling in with a smile on his face and laughter on his tongue- reminding you that this was really no big deal. For him, a simple zipper snagged on a piece of fabric was no problem. And so, moments after he arrived your zipper was unstuck and your dress was tumbling to the floor. And suddenly, this was a big deal. A big, embarrassing, mortifyingly huge deal. Because you were now standing practically naked in front of your superiors after only meeting them on a couple of occasions. 

And they weren’t afraid to let you know exactly how it made them feel.

“C-Captain…” You couldn’t help but stutter out your response, not really sure of what to say or how to go about things. Especially considering that you’re a very nice hire to the extremely handsome men standing in the same room as you. At the moment. Captain Obi is still behind you. But the second your dress fell to the floor, you found your backside being pulled into his chest as he slowly rolled his hips into you. You remember gasping as you felt what you could only imagine to be his cock through the fabric of his pants pressed up against you. You remember gasping out again as Captain Obi’s large hands come from behind to cup your boobs above your bra. Squeezing and holding them and cupping them tightly as he groaned out loud about how he knew hiring you was only going to get him in trouble.“I…um…”

But it wasn’t only Captain Obi. Lieutenant Hinawa had taken refuge on the floor, kneeling down in the space in front of you as his hands found their way to your hips, smoothing over your curves you’re made of something precious. The intense reaction from Captain Obi definitely had you growing flustered at first touch. But the longer the Lieutenant would stare at your body, the more you started to shrink under his gaze. The normally unaffected man seemed to be enamored with your now-revealed panties and the dark stain growing on the fabric between your thighs as you struggled to hide just how turned on you were.  

But to Lieutenant Hinawa, that was okay. It just showed how receptive you were to their touch. It just showed that you could follow orders- you could follow their lead. And that you would look absolutely desirable doing it.

“We didn’t sign her up to be the secretary. Her reported skill set states that she belongs on the field,” Lieutenant Hinawa spoke up finally, his voice nonchalant as ever as he leaned in closer to your body while challenging the ideas of his superior. You couldn’t help but let out a soft whine as you watched him press his nose against your panties- directly where you were starting to make a mess of yourself- and take a deep inhale of your scent down there. Through his glasses, you see his eyes practically roll into the back of his head momentarily, before his grip on your body tightens significantly. Almost in an attempt to group himself and regain composure. “Although… I’m not opposed to such a change.”

You let out another soft sound as Lieutenant Hinawa opens his eyes to peer up at you, fingers gravitating lower and lower until they’re dancing along the seams of your panties. At the same time, you felt Captain Obi’s head tuck down by your neck before he pressed his lips to a particularly sensitive spot and started to kiss at it. Almost like encouraging you to think about it. Almost like enabling you to entertain your superior's words. Just for a little while. But the part of you that’s not too occupied with holding back your moans while one of your bosses gropes at your chest and the other has his nose brush shameless against your clit wants to protest. Because secretary is not the job you signed up for. You remember expressly talking to them about how you hope to be of use to people and the team while in the field. You remember being proud of all the experience you could show off on your resume because of just how hard you worked to get there. Just how hard you worked to get here. But now…?

Why does it feel so tempting to just give in to whatever they have to say to you? Why does it feel so tempting to just throw all that hard work away if it means that one of them will finally decide to properly spread your legs and take care of business like their touches promised they would?

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Captain Obi asks, and you can’t help but shiver at the way he all but purrs the new petname he just bestowed upon you. It comes out so smoothly. Without hesitation or falter. It makes you wonder if they’ve done this type of thing to other girls before. But one quick glance at Lieutenant Hinawa sitting on his knees and huffing the scent of your panties while they’re still on you like it’s the most normal yet sacred thing to do in the world has you wanting to believe that you’re the first and only girl they’ve done this to. And if it were up to you? You’d like for it to stay that way. “Sure you don’t want to switch jobs? It’ll make the Lieutenant and I really happy.”

“I… I can handle it…” You try to tell them quietly, head tilting to the side to give Captain Obi more space to switch from kissing to sucking at that particular spot on your neck. But your voice is starting to get as shaky as your legs, and you’re not even sure if you managed to convince yourself that you still want a path for yourself. “I- I can do it…s-sirs…”

Because the action of fighting alongside your comrades and saving lives is a noble one. And it’s always been your dream to save people. To help those in need. But is it really so bad to be spoiled every once and a while? Is it really so bad to don the pencil skirt and work behind a computer for just a little while? You did nearly work yourself ragged trying to get qualified to move from the regular forces to one of the special companies…

“Are you sure, sweetheart? It’s okay to say no.” Captain Obi presses on, voice warm and comforting. He’s making the pitch as a suggestion- not as your boss or authority right now. A suggestion that he and his second-in-command are in on. A suggestion that won’t get you punished if you reject it. But a suggestion that he and his second-in-command would be really, really, really happy if you were to consider. And unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for you, it’s working. It’s working really well. Or perhaps the answer now dancing on your lips has more to do with the fact that Captain’s Obi fingers are starting to slip beneath your bra, subtly showing just how much he’s itching to take it off of you at the first chance he gets. A chance that you can have every day if you. A chance that you can have if you just say yes. “Your captain and Lieutenant here have no problem taking care of you if that’s what you really want.”

Is that what you really want? You think so. No, actually- you know so at this point. You know you want it. You know you do. And they know you want it too. Why else would Captain Obi be cooing at your so softly as you rock your hips into Lieutenant Hinawa’s open mouth as he lips and sucks on the spot where your clit is right over your panties. Why else would Lieutenant Hinawa be offering to give you a proper demonstration so long as you get dressed long enough (given your promise to let him keep your panties in his pocket) for you to go sign a different pile of paperwork in his office? A pile that he had prepared in advance in case ‘you changed your mind.’

But the more you stand here with their hands running wild over your body and the voices taking turns murmuring sweet nothings and promises in your ear, the more you grow excited about this job ahead of you. About the life ahead of you. And it’s all because you worked so hard. It’s all because you put in the hours. It’s all because you did your due diligence. It’s all because you didn’t listen to the advice you heard about Special Fire Force Company 8. The advice tells you to avoid it at all costs. But above all else?

It’s all because you have two good, handsome, and caring superiors. Ready to do just about anything for you.

[therealcocoshady]

The Hoodie

A/N : Hey guys ! I'm sorry, I'm not uploading a lot, these days. I have been drowning in work for my PhD dissertation... Also, I've been super sick. I actually allowed myself a break for daydreaming about snuggling in Marshall's hoodie 👀. Anyway, here is a little blurb and I hope you enjoy it ❤️.

Summary : you are dating Eminem and you are sick while spending a few days at his place. Ever the thoughtful boyfriend, he comforts you and gives you one of his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie.

CW : Fluff

The Michigan wind whipped through the trees outside, rattling against the windows.Marshall sat at his desk in the corner of his home studio, trying to focus. Beats thumped softly in the background, lyrics half-formed in his mind, but something wasn’t right.A small cough echoed from the bedroom, reminding him why he couldn’t concentrate. You had been battling a nasty cold for days now. You’d tried to play it off at first, but the stubborn fever, the constant sniffling, and the exhausted look in your eyes were impossible to ignore.He sighed, running a hand over his face before standing up. He was busy and he had tons of work to do for his upcoming projects, but he didn’t like the thought of being locked in the home studio while his girlfriend being sick in bed. It felt incredibly selfish. It was bad enough that he had to spend part of what should have been a lazy weekend with you working, and he wanted to be there to comfort you. You’d been together for a little while, nearly a year, and, though he’d been guarded at first, he had come to care for you deeply and it was time to put the feeling in action. 

He walked down the hall, pausing at the door to the bedroom. You were curled up under the thick comforter, your nose peeking out from the blankets. Your hair was a mess, but even like this, he couldn’t help but think that you had that effortless beauty that always caught him off guard.“You okay?” he asked softly, stepping into the room.You peeked one eye open, offering him a weak smile. “Been better,” you rasped. “But I’m surviving.”Marshall frowned, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You should’ve told me earlier how bad it was. You’re burning up.” You chuckled lightly, but it ended in a coughing fit. You waved a hand dismissively once it passed. “Just a cold. I didn’t want to bother you.” Marshall shook his head. “You ain’t bothering me. You should’ve said something.” He stood up, heading toward the closet. “Hold up. You’re always freezing. I got something for you.”

You watched him curiously as he rummaged through a pile of clothes before pulling out his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie. It was old, worn in, and oversized, but it was the softest thing he owned. “That’s your favorite hoodie.”, you pointed out. He smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, but you’re cold. And if you get better faster, maybe I’ll get it back sooner.” He tossed it onto the bed next to you. “Put it on. You’ll be warmer.” You hesitated for a second but then reached out, grabbing the hoodie and slipping it over your head. As soon as the fabric touched your skin, you melted into its warmth. It was so soft and smelled faintly of him—of cologne and something uniquely Marshall. You buried your face in the collar, sighing contentedly. “Okay, you were right. This is amazing.” Marshall chuckled, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “Told you. That’s a certified Detroit classic right there. Ain’t nobody who wouldn’t feel better wearing it.” You gave a small laugh, your eyes heavy with exhaustion but a bit of the tension seemed to leave your body as you got cozy in the hoodie. “I’m not giving this back,” you teased, your words a little slurred as you started to drift off. Marshall smiled faintly, watching you. “You keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”. 

After a few days, you finally got better. You hadn’t let go of the hoodie. The warmth, the smell, and the comfort it gave you had become your safety blanket. Standing in the kitchen, you caught your reflection in the window—there you were, swimming in his oversized hoodie, the faded Lions logo worn down from years of wear. As much as you loved how it made you feel, you knew you couldn’t keep it forever. You knew it was his favorite and you had come to understand that he could get very sentimental when it comes to certain items. You heard Marshall come in behind you, his steps heavy on the wooden floor. He dropped his keys on the counter and cracked open a bottle of water, taking a long sip before leaning against the kitchen island, watching you with that half-smirk of his.

“You look better,” he commented, his eyes flicking to the hoodie you were still wrapped up in. You tugged at the sleeves, glancing down at yourself. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. Thanks to this, mostly.” You gestured at the hoodie, then gave him a sheepish smile. “Speaking of which, I should probably give it back.” Marshall raised an eyebrow, setting his water bottle down. “Why would you do that?” You let out a soft laugh. “Because it’s yours? And I’ve been hogging it for days now. I mean, it’s your favorite.” He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness. “It was my favorite,” he said, his voice low but teasing. “But now it’s yours.” You blinked, surprised. “What do you mean? You love this thing.”. “Yeah, but I love seeing you in it more.” Marshall shrugged casually, but there was an earnestness in his voice that caught you off guard. He reached out, gently pulling at one of the sleeves, the fabric falling long past your fingertips. “You look good in it. Better than I ever did.”. Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to downplay it. “I don’t know, you kinda rocked the baggy hoodie look,” you teased. Marshall chuckled, his eyes softening as he gazed at you. “Nah, you can keep it. I’ll grab another one. It’s just a hoodie, anyway.” You bit your lip, looking down at the oversized garment again, fingers tracing the worn-out logo. It felt like more than just a hoodie. It felt like a piece of him—something intimate and familiar, something you never realized you needed until now. “But it’s not just a hoodie,” you said softly, glancing up at him. “It’s yours. It smells like you… and it’s—" You paused, realizing how cheesy you were about to sound. “It’s kinda special.” Marshall gave you a small, crooked smile. “Yeah, it’s special. And that’s why I want you to have it. You’ve been through a lot this past week. It makes me feel better knowing you got something to hold onto when I’m not around.” You looked at him, your heart warming at the sentiment. He wasn’t always good with words when it came to this kind of stuff, but when he was, it hit you right in the chest. You stepped closer to him, arms wrapping around his waist, your face pressed against his chest. “Thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled but sincere. “For everything.” He rested his chin on top of your head, his arms coming up to hold you close. “Don’t mention it. Just... don’t forget to wash it every once in a while. I don’t want my hoodie to smell like Vicks forever,” he joked, the vibration of his chest making you giggle. You pulled back slightly, smirking up at him. “No promises.” Marshall laughed, shaking his head, but his smile lingered as he looked down at you, still tucked into his hoodie like it was made just for you. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “it’s not about the hoodie. It’s just... I like knowing you’re taken care of. Even if it’s something small like that.”. You tilted your head, your eyes softening as you gazed up at him. “You’re sweet, you know that?”. He groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Don’t start with that,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if he couldn’t hold back the smile completely. You laughed and stood on your  tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Too late.” For a moment, you both stood there in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s arms, the hoodie now a symbol of something more between you. It wasn’t just about the comfort it gave you—it was about how it made you feel connected to him, even in the simplest of ways. As you settled back against his chest, Marshall kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. “Keep the hoodie,” he said again, this time almost a whisper. “It’s yours. Like me.”

[rosenclaws]

So my birthdays around the bend (next week Saturday) and my sister just slept with the guy I used to like (ik, very messy) so I was wondering if you could write some sort of Wolverine revenge sex story cz I will not be participating in that !

Thanks 😭

a/n: omfg that's insane im so sorry adsfjlk; I got u babes and I hope u can go and celebrate ur birthday and try not to let it ruin ur big day. I hope it's okay I wrote the reader with fem anatomy because I wasn't sure if that's what you wanted. I hope this cheers you up a little bit <3

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, rough sex, unprotected, dirty talk, creampie, fingering

You were certifiably pissed. I mean you had every right to be. You stormed through the mansion and everyone seemed to get out of your way.

"What's wrong with you?" Logan asks, the only one who doesn't seem afraid to poke the bear.

"Fuck off." You grumble. Throwing open the fridge to search for wine or beer or literally anything at this point. Logan rolls his eyes and watches you angrily move things around the fridge.

"Jesus just take it. Looks like you can use it more than I can." He hands you the rest of his beer which you take from his hands. You take a long sip, wiping your lips as you sit on one of the stools by the kitchen counter. The anger slowly dissipating into sadness.

"My sister slept with a guy I used to like." You mumble. Logan raises his eyebrows but stays quiet.

"It's messy I know but like, it just feels like such a betrayal." You were really hurt. I mean of all people it had to be the two of them.

"I was supposed to spend my birthday with my family but I think I'm just going to cancel." You say bitterly.

"That's really shitty." Logan leans on the counter, his arms flexing as he rests his heavy body on the marble.

"You shouldn't cancel your birthday because of her."

"Well what do you think I should do?" You huff.

Celebrating your birthday sounds miserable if you were being honest. Maybe you could just do a small thing here at the mansion but most of your friends were out on a mission right now. You glance at your phone and see a text from your sister. Rolling your eyes you place your phone in your pocket, not wanting to even deal with her right now.

"If I were you, I'd fuck someone else. You know show her that she can't get to you." Logan suggests casually.

You scoff at first, of course Logan would suggest that. That man brings home someone new every time you go to the bar. But...he's not wrong. It's petty yes but you know what, fuck it. You smirk, looking at Logan who narrows his eyes cautiously at you.

"Logan..." You put on your best puppy dog eyes and he just chuckles.

Your sister has always had the hots for Logan. The one time she visited the mansion she couldn't stop talking about how hot he was. Did she have a crush? Who knows but you do know it would be a massive ego blow to her if she knew you were hooking up with the Wolverine.

"Yeah sweetheart." Logan purrs. Logan would be an idiot to not be attracted to you, but relationships weren't really his thing. In the sense that he's bad at them. So keeping things casual is simply just what's best.

"You wanna help me get revenge on my sister?" He smirks and leans closer to your face, his presence is overwhelming as his pretty eyes stare into your own.

"You know what you're asking for? I don't play nice." You shudder at his words. Your legs pressing together without even thinking.

"Neither do I." You whisper back.

Without another word Logan smashes his lips against yours. Groaning into your mouth as he pulls you into him. Your hands brace themselves on his toned chest. The white tank top does little to hide his muscles. With ease he hoists you over his shoulder and carries you to his room.

You're practically buzzing with excitement as he kicks his door open and places you onto his bed. His sheets smell like him and you just want to curl up in the soft fabric. Logan wastes no time in shedding his clothes, pulling tank top over his head and unbuckling his jeans at lighting speed. You lick your lips at the sight of him. Fuck he's like a Greek statue.

"Take em off. Now." He commands and you don't hesitate to obey. Your clothes are thrown without a care somewhere in his room. You'll find them later. Your phone is tossed onto the bedside table before Logan can throw it across the room. He looks ready to pounce. Logan crawls between your legs, his lips sucking on your neck harshly.

"Fuck!" You hiss as he bites down on your collarbone, his tongue coming to soothe the slight pain as he feigns a sad look.

"Sorry sweetheart, just wanna leave a few marks. Right where anyone can see." Oh god you don't even want to think about what your neck will look like after this. Though you quite liked the idea of showing them off. A reminder of the amazing sex you're about to have with Logan.

"Normally I'd take my time with a someone as pretty as you." He purrs. His lips tracing down your chest and stomach.

"Start with an appetizer," He spreads your legs as far as they can go.

"And feast until you're screaming my fucking name baby." He slips his fingers inside your warm cunt, groaning at the feeling.

"So fucking wet already? I've barely touched you." His fingers are like magic.

Soft whines are pulled from your lips as he fucks his fingers into you. A rough but steady pace. One that has you going insane. As much as you want to take your time, you need him bad. You want it hot and dirty.

"Logan please, just fuck me already!" You snap, the pleasure twisting in your body is almost unbearable.

"Bossy." Logan teases as he pulls his fingers out of your cunt. Sticking them in his mouth to clean them up.

"I'll have my taste next time." Your heart leaps at next time.

Logan strokes his cock slowly, pressing the tip into your cunt. Fucking hell is he big. With one thrust of his hips he slots himself fully inside. Your back arching as you try and get used to the feeling. Hands clawing at the sheets trying to ground yourself.

"Easy, I got you. Just breathe." Logan whispers in your ear.

His elbows keeping him above you. His words may be sweet but his actions are devastating. His hips pounding you into the mattress. Barely giving you a second to breathe. Your head is in the clouds. Logan pins your wrists to the bed, it's the only thing keeping you grounded to reality.

"Fuck fuck." Logan groans, his tongue sticking out a little as he chases his high. He was right. He doesn't play nice.

"Logan!" You cry as he sits back on his knees, pushing your legs up to fuck you in a new position. You asked him for help and he was going to give you the best fuck of your life.

"That's it baby, can feel you squeezing me real tight." His hands wrap around your thighs, fingers digging into your skin.

"Don't fight it." Logan growls, he can see the way your face twists in pleasure, your body is reacting before you can even think about it.

He's silently begging you to come. He's close and he can feel the animal coming out in him. The pleasure seeping into his bones. Your nails dig into the sheets. Vision going blurry as Logan pulls the most intense orgasm you've ever felt. Your legs shake as pleasure explodes through you.

The feeling of your own orgasm triggers something in Logan. He lets go of your thighs and grabs the headboard. Splintering the wood with his strength. He grunts as he powers his hips recklessly. Chasing his own pleasure with teeth bared and eyes clouded with lust.

"Fuck!" He growls as his hips still. His eyes rolling to the back of his head as he comes inside of you, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"How was that for revenge? Gonna show off my art to her?" Logan asks with a smirk, his fingers tracing the hickeys he left on your skin.

"Maybe..." You mumble.

Logan lays by your side, sitting up with the sheets covering his lower half. You move to rest your head on his chest, his arm coming to rest on around your back. This was meant to be a revenge fuck, something you can rub your sister face in. But you're already craving more. As if the universe was listening you hear your phone ding. Lazily you reach for it. A text from your sister.

Can we talk??

A devilish smirk crosses your face as you open the camera and lift your phone up. Angling it so that she can clearly see the hickeys on your neck and Logan's bare chest.

"Really sweetheart?" Logan asks, amusement in his voice.

"What?" You say innocently. Logan finds it very hot, this side of you is new to him and he likes it.

You type a few words before pressing send.

Sorry! I'm busy 😜

[one attachment sent]

Shutting off your phone and tossing it onto the floor.

"Now," You sit up and crawl on top of Logan, straddling his waist. His hands grab your hips, a curious but interested look on his face.

"Does that super healing of yours work on everything?"