#HOW ARE THEIR EYES SO 🥺🥺🥺🥺 ALL THE TIME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dailynnt · 2 days ago

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ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Jungkook reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 14/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lover, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope (later more than one bed), undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension, slow burning

⋆˙⟡ From author: Hey guys 😅 I wrote the longest chapter I've ever written for the series 🤭 About 11+ k words 😏 I tried really hard for you guys and spent SO MUCH TIME ON THIS CHAPTER 😂 But I did it 💪🏻 Chapter 14 is very (I'm serious when I say "very") eventful. And I can't wait to find out how you like it 🥺 Read this chapter to the end and I promise you you will be shocked 🤭☝🏻 In addition, this chapter is entirely written from Jungkook's point of view. Tell me what you think of his thoughts 😉🙃 I love all the army, you are extremely cool and the best in the world, that’s for sure 💗

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl, @vantelover1306, @deepikhaprakash, @mar-lo-pap, @zeytiable, @lallataegi, @vintagemoonsstuff, @indigomoonchild09, @diame93, @bts-ruu, @asyr97, @taeloversblog, @songbyeonkim, @miniruuu, @hubbytaehyung, @queen1599, @goldenboysmuse , @nikkinikj, @kookiesncreamri, @guwol, @unholyforjk, @hisdecalcomania17 (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 14. Past mistakes

Jungkook sat in his car, leaning back. His hand was on the steering wheel, his eyes were directed somewhere out the window, although he couldn't really see anything.

He had to concentrate - Lee's schedule was literally minute-by-minute: a meeting with the finance department, a short meeting with the PR department, checking investor reports. Everything was in preparation for the next stage of the "merger," which he hated.

But his thoughts kept coming back to you.

Jungkook sighed. He sighed heavily and long, trying to ease his condition. He replayed in his mind how you looked this morning. Your disheveled hair, your warm skin, the scratches on his back-your fingernails had left those marks. He remembered your voice, quiet, a little hoarse after the night.

"I liked... everything." you said, awkwardly.

Fuck. He liked everything, too. He liked it too much.

Your body, your movements, the way you reacted to him - honestly, without acting, without pretense. Jungkook was with different women. Beautiful, experienced, playful. But none of them caused him such... obsession.

He wanted you more. Much more.

But it wasn't just about sex, and that's what pissed him off.

Because he caught himself wanting to stay with you afterwards. Watching you fall asleep. Waiting for you to wake up. He wanted to know what you were thinking about when you were silent. Do you think about him? He wanted to see your eyes when you look at something with curiosity. He wanted to hear your laugh more often - real, not forced.

Your body was not enough for him. He wanted you. All of you.

"What the fuck, Jungkook..." he muttered to himself.

He wasn't used to reacting like this. He was drawn to you as if you were something he had no right to want-but he wanted you anyway. Even more than he should have.

And worst of all, you obeyed him. You responded to him in a way that was not allowed. You challenged him.

It turned him on more than any lace on your body.

"You must be a problem, kitten," he thought. "Because of all the women I've ever had, you're the only one who makes me want to do more than just take your clothes off."

And not just to have you, but to understand you. To touch not only your skin but your mind.

It scared him. It made him angry.

But, damn it... it was even more exciting.

When he first saw you, he knew you will be his. Maybe for one night, maybe for a few, but to want you all the time like crazy?

He didn't foresee that.

And now, sitting in the car, replaying in his head the way you looked, the way you breathed, the way you begged him, he realized that everything was getting out of control.

Jungkook stopped at a traffic light, and the name "Kang Sukhi" popped up on the Mercedes interactive panel. He looked at name indifferently, not wanting to talk with her. The call went on for a long time until it disconnected itself, and a second later she called again. Jungkook realized she had seen the articles about him and you. He wondered what she had to say.

He pressed almost the last dial tone.

"Yes, I'm listening," he said in a steady voice.

"How long do you plan to play with your new toy? I'm a little tired of watching you kiss," she said sharply, with a sweet smile in her voice.

"Don't look, no one is forcing you to," he said with a subtle smile. Sukhi laughed bitterly.

"You know perfectly well that this is all nonsense. Your fun will soon end, because we're getting married. It's a done deal. It's... beneficial. For everyone."

"You call to reassure yourself?" Jungkook asked ironically, but he felt slightly irritated by her self-assured tone.

"Don't mock me. Have you really started to think you can decide everything on your own?" Sukhi sounded tense.

"I always decide everything myself, in case you haven't noticed. That's why we never announced our engagement," Jungkook replied in an indifferent tone.

There was a short pause on the other end of the line. Then came a cold laugh.

"But you know perfectly well that our parents have already made a deal. You're just putting off the inevitable. And I'm wondering..." her voice became softer, more venomous, "Have you fallen in love with her? Why is she still with you?"

Jungkook was silent for a few seconds.

Your hair tousled after sex, your swollen lips after kissing, your shy smile flashed before his eyes.

"Yes," he finally said, quietly but firmly. "I'm in love."

He wasn't sure why he said it. Maybe to hear Sukhi's reaction. Maybe he wanted to hear himself say it out loud. He had to admit that he liked the way it sounded.

Sukhi laughed. Loudly and almost theatrically.

"Poor boy. So sorry your feelings don't mean anything. I'm going to be your wife. Whether you want me to or not. It's not about you, it's about families. Business. And power."

His jaw clenched. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

"I'll be a good wife to you," she added softly, with a venomous note.

Jungkook didn't answer. Because deep inside, he was seething with disgust at her words.

To the idea that his life was being decided without him.

"I have a lot of work to do," he cut off sharply, "don't waste my time," and pressed the end button.

Manager Lee was waiting for him at the entrance to the parking lot. This was atypical - Lee always stayed upstairs - so Jungkook was immediately on the lookout.

Once parked, he quickly got out of the car and confidently walked toward the man.

"Good morning," he nodded.

The manager bowed discreetly and greeted him back. As always, he was composed and emotionless, but Jungkook knew him well enough to notice that something was wrong. There was tension in Lee's eyes.

"What's wrong? Why are you here?" he asked, stopping in front of him.

Lee cleared his throat.

"Your father is waiting for you in the study."

Jungkook pressed his lips into a straight line. He was sure his father would want to talk again when he saw the articles. But the thought of talking to him was still irritating.

"Did he say something?" Jungkook asked as he passed the manager and headed for the elevator. He followed.

"He just asked when you'd be here. And he told that he was waiting for you in the office," Lee replied evenly.

The elevator opened and they went inside. There was a short pause.

"Did you see the articles?" Jungkook asked, not taking his eyes off the door.

"Yes," Lee nodded briefly. "You and Ms. Han are all over the front page. The yellow press is thrilled. It's like they were given a gift." He was silent for a moment and asked, "Did you have a good time?"

Jungkook smiled, not even trying to hide it.

"Yes. I showed her the penthouse. She was... pleased."

Manager Lee didn't say anything, but Jungkook noticed that he looked down a little, obviously trying to remain professional.

The elevator opened, and Jungkook made his way to his office, mentally preparing himself for another conversational battle with his father.

He entered his office. His father, President Jeon, was sitting in his chair, sitting comfortably.

He was calmly staring at the screen of the tablet he was holding, reading a news article with the headline:

"’Jeon Group's’ heir sabotages engagement again. Date with the same mystery girl in the center of Seoul'" His voice was unpleasantly loud in Jungkook's ears. "That was a great performance. Especially the kissing. You know how to get the attention of the press," President Jeon sarcastically said.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Jungkook replied coldly as he closed the door.

President Jeon looked up and studied his son's face for a few seconds.

"You are going to marry Sukhi. This is no longer up for discussion. I give you one week to get rid of this girl, and we will announce your engagement to Kang Tehwon's daughter," he said seriously.

His father's behavior hasn't changed since Jungkook's childhood. He tells him what to do, and Jungkook must to do it without question. But he is no longer a child who had no choice. He is a grown man who decides what he can do and how he can do it.

Jungkook sighed skeptically and rolled his eyes defiantly.

"You don't seem to know how to listen. I'm not going to marry Sukhi. I'm tired of repeating the same thing. I've made my choice."

"You don't decide anything, Jungkook. Marriage is the key to the merger with ‘Kang Technology’. We're talking about prospects that have never been seen in the company's history: joint entry into the Singapore market, access to government projects, capital pooling..."

"Prospects?" interrupted Jungkook, taking a step forward. "Kang Tehwon can't be trusted. I warned you. But you just don't want to see it."

President Jeon smiled. It was almost a condescending smile, like for child.

"In business, trust is a conditional thing. It is not the honest who survives, but the one who knows how to play. And you're still acting like a boy who thinks his feelings will make a difference." He leaned forward, his voice darkening. "This isn't about girls who look good in bed and disappear as soon as you get bored. This is about power. It's about the future of the company you're responsible for. And stop playing around."

Jungkook moved closer to the table, his gaze darkening and his voice dropping to a threatening silence.

"Do you really want me to sign an alliance with someone I despise? And pretend like it's all normal? No. I will not allow this to happen. And I will do everything I can to stop this merger from happening."

The father slowly stood up, straightening to his full height.

"Son, I think you've forgotten who has the final say here. I can freeze your assets, remove you from the Board, and revoke the power of attorney that I gave you. Do you think your shares mean anything without my support?" he studied his son's expression carefully. "You will not do this. Otherwise, I will strip you of all power."

President Jeon was on his way out when he suddenly heard his son's cold voice behind him.

"Then do it," Jungkook said. The president turned around and stared at his son's back. "Do me a favor and deprive me of the role of your heir," he said coldly. "Then we can both finally be honest: you never saw me as a person. Only a tool."

Jungkook turned around. Their eyes met-cold, hard, unbending. In Jungkook's gaze was a challenge. In his father's gaze was a deep disappointment that bordered on contempt.

Jungkook knew this look so well. He often rewarded him with it when Jungkook said he didn't want to be the heir to a large corporation.

"I think I raised a weak boy," his father said quietly. "One who chews snot and plays at love." Jungkook could barely contain his anger. He clenched his fists harder so that it wouldn't be noticeable that he was shaking with anger. "Jungkook, finally realize who you are. And remember who you have to become. Get rid of the girl, or I will."

Something inside him clicked. No. God forbid he laid a finger on you...

"Don't even think about going near her," Jungkook said, his voice threatening. President Jeon frowned, but immediately hid his emotions under a mask of calm. He had not expected such a decisive response from his son, but he was not going to give in either.

"You crossed the line a long time ago, son," he said, his voice cold and distant. "Do you think your struggle for some illusion of love can change the reality of this world?" He paused, giving the words importance. "This is not a world where you can afford weakness."

Jungkook didn't answer right away, breathing heavily, feeling his every muscle tense with internal tension. It was hard to stay calm when the man he not only hated, but was forced to look up to, was standing in front of him.

"I'm not your reflection anymore," Jungkook finally said with a serious expression on his face. "And I won't follow your orders just because you want me to. If that makes me weak, then I will be weak. But at least I will be true to myself."

President Jeon's face darkened. He realized that his son had crossed the point of no return.

"Do you think your pride is bigger than yourself?" he said slowly, as if he wanted to swallow every word before releasing it. "When your ambition causes you to lose, you will realize that your ideals are just empty words for a child who has never been able to accept his responsibilities."

Jungkook did not flinch, even though every word hurt his heart. But it was his choice, and he had no intention of backing down.

"You can keep those responsibilities for yourself," he answered briefly. "I will not be your toy heir. I have other plans."

There was silence for a moment. The air between them literally crackled with tension. His father looked at him for a few more seconds, and then... turned and left the office, leaving behind the echo of heavy footsteps and the pressure of an unspoken threat.

Jungkook couldn't find his feet after talking to his father. He was sure that his fake relationship plan would work. He thought that the scandal he created and the ostentatious "love" would be enough to undermine his image so that President Jeon would change his mind. But he underestimated his stubbornness. His father seemed to become even more insistent.

Jungkook felt that time was running out. He needed proof-real, hard, irrefutable proof-that Kang Tehwon was not just seeking a merger, but was intent on taking over ‘Jeon Group’ completely.

The fact that he was buying up shares in the Busan branch was just the tip of the iceberg. After that conversation, Jungkook immediately instructed his manager to investigate: what shady schemes Kang Tehwon was running, what offshore accounts he was using, and who were the people behind him.

And yet, he had to continue this farce. To continue to be a couple with you, a pretend couple in love that everyone thinks is real.

While his manager was looking for evidence against Kang Tehwon, Jungkook decided to bet on Sukhi.

The idea was simple: if Sukhi sees that he is "unwaveringly" with you, maybe her pride will not stand. Perhaps she would give up the marriage herself. But how do you make her believe that? What does Sukhi have to see to break down? The answer never came.

And one more thing - now Jungkook has to make sure that his father doesn't get close to you. To know President Jeon is to realize that he never makes a threat in vain. And although Jungkook didn't want to think the worst, his fear for you was real. All of this is indeed chaos, but he will endure. Because there is no case that Jungkook can't handle.

That evening, when it was already dark, he drove home exhausted, morally depressed, with an obsessive feeling of anger settling deep inside. And only one thought kept him from completely giving up - you.

Thinking about you calmed him down. He wanted to see you, to touch you, just to forget about everything that was happening around him.

So, without thinking twice, he bought some fried chicken and beer and went to see you. He wasn't sure if you had already eaten dinner or if you would want to eat so late, but he just wanted to spend time with you. To see your eyes. To feel a little bit of your warmth.

He stopped in front of your door with a bag and bottles in his hands. He pressed the bell and looked at the clock - it was almost ten. Maybe you're already asleep. You might be angry that he was disturbing you so late.

You were in no hurry to open the door. And when Jungkook was about to turn around and leave, the door swung open.

You stood on the threshold in a light housecoat, your hair still a little damp. You smelled like something fruity. And Jungkook, despite his tiredness, suddenly felt his heart beat faster.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, glancing at the package in his hands.

"I... thought it would be nice to eat some chicken and drink beer..." he said, a little confused, picking up the package. "You haven't had dinner yet, have you?"

Your eyes met his again. You hesitated for a second, and then stepping aside.

"Who can say no to chicken and beer? You're lucky I didn't eat dinner."

Jungkook came inside, glad that you hadn't turned down dinner with him. He walked over to the table and put down a bag of chicken. You were shocked when he pulled out not only four servings of fried chicken, but also onigiri with tuna, and two servings of spicy tokpoki, which you loved with chajamyeon sauce.

"Oh my God, tteokbokki with chajamyeon is my favorite," you couldn't contain your joy when you saw them. Jungkook froze. He knows you love them, that's why he bought them. "How did you know?" you asked, opening the box of warm rice dumplings.

"Uh... I didn't know, I just got what I liked," he lied. You turned to Jungkook, narrowing your eyes.

"Do we have something in common now?" you sneered. Jungkook smiled and leaned toward you.

"We have a lot in common, kitten, and you know it's not just the tokkpoki." Jungkook looked at your lips, which were beckoning him like a magnet. He wanted to kiss you, but you seemed to notice and stood up abruptly, running away from him.

"I'll get the beer glasses and chopsticks. I'm not comfortable eating with wooden ones. Do you want me to get you some iron ones too?" you said quickly. Jungkook turned to look at your face.

"Yes, please give me the iron ones." he said, smiling slightly.

You went into the kitchen, and Jungkook stayed at the table, setting out the food. The wait became surprisingly long - a minute, two... He looked up and looked in the direction of the kitchen, and what he saw made you feel a wave of slight arousal.

You stood on tiptoe at the locker, trying to get the glasses off the top shelf. The robe rose with your every movement, barely covering your buttocks, and your naked legs looked dangerously attractive. Your hair, damp and uncombed, fell in waves over your shoulders, and the curve of your body simply called for sin.

Jungkook couldn't resist the temptation to approach you. His feet moved forward on their own.

"What are you doing there so helplessly?" he muttered above your head, coming close. His chest touched your back. Jungkook felt the warmth of your body as he raised his hand and easily removed the large beer glasses from the shelf.

You turned around, a little confused, looking at the glasses in his hands.

"Thank you..." you said tensely.

"I'm always ready to help," he smiled playfully, not moving away. His eyes were once again locked on your lips. And when you took a step to the side, he put the glasses on the countertop and pushed you gently but firmly against it.

"I want to kiss you," Jungkook whispered, his voice slightly hoarse, with a hint of seduction. You looked up, noticing that he was looking at your lips. You were silent, didn't answer, didn't look away. You did not push him away.

And that was enough for him to realize that you didn't mind.

His lips touched yours - at first cautiously, gently, as if he was asking for permission. Then - more decisively, more insistently. His hand found your waist, and the kiss gained strength. Jungkook felt how your breath catch in your throat.

He allowed himself to slip his tongue inside your welcoming mouth, and when his tongue met yours, he gave a little moan. His heavy thoughts left his head for a moment, and he loved the feel of your plump lips.

Jungkook felt his cock begin to throb. He has to stop, because otherwise he'll fuck you right here in this kitchen.

When he finally pulled back, you were left pinned to the countertop, just as confused and still wanting.

"You have no idea... how you just saved my day," Jungkook said quietly between you, looking at you.

He smiled, took the chopsticks from your hands, take a glasses and walked back to the table as if nothing had happened.

"Come here. The food is getting cold," Jungkook nodded.

He sat down on the couch, putting the chopsticks on the table and grabbing a bottle of beer. Your closeness was clouding his judgment, and he made a titanic effort to stop at just a kiss.

He would like to continue, but he has to give you some space. Because if he tries to fuck you every time you're around, you'll probably run away from him.

You sat down next to him. Silently. Jungkook handed you a glass of beer.

"Here's to running away from madness," Jungkook said with a smile and to you. You smiled and took a long gulp.

You started eating, and he really tried to focus on the food, on your presence, which was strangely calming him-but somewhere deep down, the wreckage of today was still fermenting. He took a bite of chicken and heard your soft voice.

"How was your day? I mean... did anyone say anything to you about the articles?"

His eyes rested on you for a moment. The hint was too obvious, you were wondering if there was any reaction to your performance yesterday. Jungkook sighed.

"Sukhi called in the morning. And then I had a nice conversation with my father," Jungkook said nonchalantly, hiding his irritation behind his glass. He didn't elaborate on what his father had said, and you didn't need to know.

"Did he tell you something this time?" you asked cautiously.

"He told something," Jungkook replied shortly, making it clear that he didn’t want to talk about it.

You nodded your head in silence and continued eating the hot tteokbokki, which you really liked.

"By the way," you broke the silence between you. Jungkook turned to you with interest, still gnawing on her chicken leg. "How long have you known Sukhi?" you asked. Sukhi was the last thing Jungkook wanted to talk about with you. He put the bone on his plate and licked his fingers.

"A long time ago. Our parents have been working together for about fifteen years, I guess," he answered without much enthusiasm.

"So you grew up with her?" you asked again.

"Well, you could say that, but I didn't spend much time with Sukhi. She usually came with her parents to events, to meetings, to some corporate vacation. I didn't like all these things, so I always ran away."

You pushed the plate of rice dumplings away and took a sip of your beer. A small smile appeared on your lips, and Jungkook couldn’t see what it meant.

He watched as you sat down further on the couch, your legs tucked up. You looked full, but you still had the beer glass in your hand.

"Sukhi is a beautiful woman. She knows exactly the world she lives in, and you grew up together. You've known each other for a long time…" you said slowly. Jungkook squinted his eyes, looking at your face. He wanted to know where you were going with this, that’s why he remained silent, letting you finish your thoughts. "Why don't you want to marry her? She's a good match for you."

Jungkook froze for a split second and then turned away from you. He picked up another chicken leg and took a bite.

"She's a good much for our fathers, as a way to merge our family companies without too much bureaucracy," Jungkook said ironically without turning around.

"Well, maybe. But I'm really interested to know the reason why you don't want this marriage?"

Jungkook held his breath, chewing his food slowly. He didn't like this question, and he didn't like that you were asking about she so insistently.

"Because I don't like her. Is that enough of an answer for you?" Jungkook asked, wiping his hands of grease and turning slightly to face you. You raised an eyebrow, not hiding your skepticism.

"You don't like her?" you repeated mockingly. "Really?"

Jungkook's brow furrowed slightly, trying to understand your behavior. He turned his body completely toward you.

"I don't like her," he repeated confidently and firmly, looking directly into your eyes. He noticed that you were nervous, or rather irritated. Can he really see your jealousy?

"What about the time you fucked her? Did you like her then?" you asked with a mocking smile on your lips. You took a sip of your beer, immediately hiding it.

Jungkook expected to hear anything but not that. He involuntarily recalled a situation from five years ago, when he had a big fight with his father and went drinking at a club with Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung.

He only remembers getting very drunk and that Sukhi was there too. She came in when he was already drinking heavily. Jungkook doesn't remember how she put him in a taxi or how she dragged him to the penthouse that night, he only remembers her kissing him and then starting to undress him. In fact, at that moment, Jungkook didn't fully realize what he was doing, but he accepted it.

It wasn't sex with feelings or long caresses. He doesn't remember very clearly how he unbuttoned his shirt. Her voice, suffocating, false.

How he ended up between her thighs-without even looking into her eyes. No hint of desire.

No pleasure.

In. Out. The end.

It was a one-time thing. One that Jungkook regrets, because it was after that night that Sukhi became obsessed with him. She stalked him and asked him to dating with her, and Jungkook was adamant. Because there was something about this girl that repelled him.

But no one knew about that night, not even his closest friends. So when he heard it from you, he was shocked, to say the least. How do you know something about him that no one else does?

"Why did you think I was fucked her?" Jungkook decided to ask instead of answering right away. You might not know the truth, but you might just checking he.

You pursed your lips and put the beer glass on the table. You sat back down on the couch and crossed your arms over your chest.

"I don't think so. I know." you said shortly.

"How?"

"Your fiancée invited me to a meeting, and she actually asked me to leave you alone." your voice was tense, even though you spoke with undisguised sarcasm. You got up and went to the window, opened it, wanting to let the warm night air into the room. Jungkook kept his eyes on you, feeling irritated.

So Sukhi was dating you. It was to be expected.

You stopped at the window, turned around, and crossed your arms over your chest again.

"She threatened to tell everyone about my past and about my alcoholic mother. That I was sleeping with you because you promised me position at the main company," you laughed. But it wasn't mocking or because you were funny. It was a hysterical laugh.

"Why did you go to her? Why didn't you tell me right away?" Jungkook was angry. You could have fallen under the media's scrutiny again. But what made him angry the most was the fact that Sukhi had threatened you. He had to fix it.

"I was curious to know what she was like. You know, it's easier to confront an enemy when you know more about them." You paused and continued. "We had a ‘nice’ chat and she told me a little secret, that you guys were fucked. Can you imagine my surprise?" a smile appeared on your lips.

Jungkook felt his heart start to beat fast again. He noticed something in your behavior that he liked for some reason.

You were jealous.

And this excited him. He leaned back further and threw his arm over the back of the couch. He could barely contain his smile.

"It was just once and a long time ago." Jungkook said casually, but following you closely. He was secretly enjoying your reaction.

You hummed. Your eyebrow shot up, showing mockery.

"Oh, so that really was. For some reason I thought she lied about it," you tilted your head slightly to the side, your eyes sparkling. "She assured me that you'll be hers under any circumstances. You must have fucked her well if she wants to marry you so desperately."

Jungkook spread his legs, swaying them. He bit down on his piercing and began to play with it with his tongue. An invisible tension filled the room.

"I don't know about her, but I didn't like it," Jungkook said sarcastically. The smile disappeared from your lips and you gave Jungkook a look he had known for a long time. Full of irritation and disdain. "You don't have to worry about her," he tried to reassure you, "I have no feelings for her, and she's overreacting. I will not be her husband under any circumstances. I will talk to her about your meeting."

"I don't care if you have feelings for anyone." you said sharply. "You just need to make sure she doesn't run her mouth about me and my family. I agreed to help you, so please safe my privacy," you said sharply, irritated, barely controlling your emotions. Jungkook got up from the couch and slowly approached you. You followed his every move and did not break eye contact.

Jungkook stopped a step away. He touched your cheek.

"Don't be so nervous, kitten. Sukhi won't say a word about you. I promise..." he wanted to stroke you, but you roughly batted his hand away.

"I hope so. Thank you for dinner, but I think you should go," you wanted to walk around Jungkook, but he wouldn't let that happen. He grabbed you and pushed you against the window sill. He was angry with your behavior. When you didn't let him touch you, something clicked inside him. He wanted to hold you even longer and closer.

"Why are you angry?" he asked softly, not giving in to emotion. You swallowed your saliva, your breathing rapid.

"I'm not angry," you said with indifference in your voice, but nothing could hide your jealousy. Jungkook smiled at hearing another lie from you. "Let go of me, I don't want you to touch me," you put your hands on his chest and tried to push.

"Since when don't you want me to touch you? Huh? Are you jealous of a night from five years ago?" Jungkook asked with a sly smile, not moving away from you a millimeter.

Your eyes rounded and you almost choked on your indignation.

"Me? You? Jealous you? You'd better tone down your arrogance. I don't care who you fucked." You let out an irritated puff of air, pushing him even harder into his chest, but he didn't budge. His arm wrapped around your waist, squeezing you so that your body was pressed against his.

Jungkook felt that your every word, your every nervous breath, your every movement against him was rekindling something primal in him. His heart was beating like a drum in his chest, but his face remained calm, even seductively defiant.

Your hands rested on his chest, and this excited him even more than any kiss. Because behind this desperate refusal was something more - a feeling. And Jungkook, although he didn't admit it, wanted to hear it from you.

Your anger, your words-they screamed about something completely different. He saw right through you. Your indifference? It was fake. And he knew it.

His voice remained quiet, but there was a hoarseness in it, deep and disturbing.

"If you really don't care..." he leaned closer, his breath sliding over your skin near your ear, "...then why did you arrange this interrogation?"

He could feel you trembling. Whether it was from anger or desire, it didn't matter now. Jungkook pressed you even harder against him, until your bodies merged into a single line. Your softness against his hardness - and this tension between you, burning like fire.

"I didn't arrange anything. I just was a little bit wondering what you had between you..."

"There's nothing," he assured you briefly, "Satisfied your interest?"

"Yes," you said and looked away.

Jungkook leaned in closer, eager to kiss you. But he touched your jaw with his nose and inhaled your pleasant scent, which made him want to eat you like a ripe fruit.

"I love how jealous you are, it's so hot, kitten," he murmured, nuzzling your soft skin with his nose.

You pulled away, increasing the distance between your faces.

"I wasn't jealous you, I'll say it again," you said firmly.

"Oh, com’n," Jungkook said playfully, "It's so obvious you're angry about what you found out."

"Let go of me," you ignored his words. To Jungkook, this meant nothing but confirmation of his words.

"I don't want to let you go, what are we going to do about it?"

You were confused for a moment and then rolled your eyes.

"God, how annoying," you muttered indignantly, but your voice trembled treacherously. Jungkook caught this tiny change, and his eyes narrowed with inner satisfaction. But you’re trying to pull away again. Jungkook saw it. And it touched his inner chords.

"Why you avoid me after every time we get closer?" he ask calmly, but his voice was tense. "Are you afraid that I'll become more than just a partner in agreement for you?"

You tried to pull away again, but he wrapped his arms around you tighter. His embrace was not aggressive, but rather stubborn. Like someone who wouldn't let go until he heard the truth.

"I'm not afraid," you answered through clenched teeth, "I just don't want to confuse work with personal. We made an agreement - no jealousy, no feelings. And I'm keeping my word. But why you want more is a mystery to me..."

Jungkook's embrace weakened, but he didn't let go. Your words cut his ears, and they were not what he wanted to hear. Jungkook looked at your face for a few long seconds and then gave a mocking laugh.

"You're such a proper girl, I keep forgetting all the time..." he finally let go of you. He took half a step back from you and put his hands in his pockets. "So maybe you're going to tell me that the 'no sex' rule is still in effect?"

You looked at him, full of anger and confusion. Your face looked darker than the clouds before the rain.

"I'm not going to say this..." you said in a half-hearted voice, "but we mustn't forget the boundaries. You are nothing to me. And I am nothing to you. No jealousy, no feelings. And then everything will work like needs..."

Jungkook clicked his tongue and shook his head. You're saying the same thing again. Everything was so good between you two. It seemed like after the trip to Busan and yesterday's date, you were only getting closer. But when it really happens, you constantly start to resist. And it got on Jungkook's nerves.

He wanted to have you not because of the deal, but because of the feelings that you could showed. But now you're pushing back again. It's fucking maddening. Did you really not feel anything for him during this time?

Jungkook laughed at himself inwardly. Is he really like that stupid boy who wants someone to have feelings for him? For someone to love him? No way. He doesn't need that. If he wants to, he'll have hundreds of women begging for his attention and give them a chance to be with him.

But why... why doesn't he want other women, but he wants you so desperately?

"Okay Y/N. Let's not forget the boundaries..." he said, almost mockingly. He was pissed as hell about the whole situation. The day had already sucked, and the ending turned into even worse. Jungkook was itching to hurt you, to make you feel that bitterness of loss and stupid limits. "But we're continue to fuck, right? How do we do it? Do we create a schedule or can we leave it like a spontaneous decision?..."

Your eyes flashed with evil.

"Get out..." you said threateningly.

"You must think, what's the right thing to do about it..." he said mocking of your constant words about following the rules. Jungkook took another step back, keeping his eyes on you, "Just think carefully kitten, because if you say no this time I won't actually touch you again..." with that he turned around and walked away, feeling angry and frustrated with everything around him.

The next day, Jungkook went about his usual routine. He woke up early as usual, focused and silent. A shower, black coffee without sugar, strict classics in his clothes - he looked impeccable as always. However, there was an anger in his eyes that he did not show to anyone but himself in the mirror.

It was hot in the office, despite the working air conditioners. Perhaps because of the accumulated fatigue or because of the internal tension that had not let go of him after yesterday's conversation with you. He deliberately did not write or call you.

For the third time for today, Jungkook picked up the phone, opened the messenger... and checked to see if you were online. Each time it said "online a minute ago." Jungkook exhaled heavily and put the phone away. He was angry. At you. At himself. At everything.

He spent the entire day in his office, immersed in documents, meetings with lawyers and the finance department. He spent several hours working with digital spreadsheets, analyzing the costs of foreign branches. Jungkook checked all the reports on partners. Anything to avoid thinking about you. It turns out that before that, he hadn't noticed how often you were in his head.

But there was something else that created additional tension. Kang Tehwon and his machinations. Jungkook instructed Manager Lee to investigate. But several days had passed and there were no results.

He didn't like to wait. And in the late afternoon, when Lee Ji-hyun still hadn't gotten in touch, Jungkook called him himself.

"I'm still waiting for information, what's taking so long?" he said shortly, sitting in a leather chair and looking at the city through the panoramic windows.

The manager sighed into the phone.

"Almost everything is ready, there is one important detail left. I don't want to give you anything until I check it for sure. That will be either late tonight or tomorrow."

"Okay. Send me the file via messenger." Jungkook threw the phone on the table without even saying goodbye.

He just sat there for a few seconds, staring at the dark screen. His fingers slowly slid across the display. A contact he had long wanted to erase. But he didn't. Not yet.

Sukhi. He remembered that he'd meant to call her this morning to talk about you, but he got distracted.

He pressed the call. The line was quiet, only short rings. She answered on the third ring.

"Jungkook?" her voice sounded soft, even a little surprised. "You first to call me? This is... unexpected. To be honest, I'm pleasantly surprised. Did you... miss me?"

He was silent for a few seconds, letting the silence hang between them like a shadow.

"No. I didn't miss you," his voice was even, calm. "I was wondering if you enjoyed talking to Y/N?"

Now Sukhi was the one who was silent for a few seconds. Then she answered.

"Oh, did she tell you about our meeting? Or are you already following me, honey?" she tried to sound confident, and affectionate, but Jungkook knew Sukhi well enough to understand the venom in her voice.

"Yes. She told me," Jungkook confirmed. "I don't suffer from such nonsense as stalking, especially not to you."

Sukhi was silent again and Jungkook could only imagine her face contorting with irritation. He didn't let her speak and continued.

"You managed to say a lot of stupid things to her, and you threatened her. That's so stupid of you," Jungkook said with a subtle smile on his lips.

"Did I really threaten her?" Suhie theatrically upset into the phone. "I just told her she should leave because I'm your fiancée. By the way, she's got a sharp tongue, did she tell you how she suspected me of having a relationship with Yoongi? That's ridiculous," she laughed just as fake and Jungkook felt disgusted.

"Wasn't she right? He's fucking you and everyone knows it." Jungkook said confidently. "I'm genuinely happy for you guys." he scoffed.

"Jungkook..." Sukhi sounded tense and probably wanted to make excuses, but he was tired of talking to her, let alone listening to excuses he wasn't interested in. He interrupted her.

"Listen, Sukhi. Stop calling yourself my fiancée. You will never be. I'm going to tell you just once and I hope you'll hear me: don't come near Y/N again. If I hear or see even a small news report about her or her family again... if I think it was you, you will regret it very much. You've known me for a long time, and you know I don't waste words."

Sukhi huffed into the phone.

"You threatening me?" her voice became familiar. No false affection or tenderness.

"I'm warning you. Don't make me lose my patience. Don't cross me. Because if you really decide to make a game out of this, you will lose."

And without waiting for an answer, he simply pressed the red button without even waiting for a response.

After that, he packed his things and drove home. The car was moving fast, almost like his thoughts. But he forced himself to stop thinking about you. When he arrived, he quickly went up to the apartment and went inside as if he was running away. He was running away from you, if to be honest.

Jungkook didn't want to see you now. Not because he wasn't grieving - quite the opposite. He waited for your decision and furiously warned himself: either you're his or you're not. It's as simple as that.

And if you don't see him as someone who deserves your feelings, then let him. He won't play your games.

The next day was Saturday.

Jungkook decided to completely disconnect from work. He was lying on the couch, wearing only sweatpants, with a joystick in his hands. He was playing fights, yelling at the monitor, switching between boxing and e-sports matches. He looked relaxed... but inside he felt empty again as soon as you flashed into his head.

Jungkook hadn't heard from Manager Lee yesterday, so today he was quick to pick up his phone whenever he heard a notification, but it wasn't what he needed. He also opened a chat with you over and over again. The last time he checked it said "online at 3.57 p.m"

Around eight in the evening, Jimin called.

"Jungkook-ah, what are you doing? Do you want to go to the club with me tonight, hang out a bit? It's been a while." His voice was as cheerful as ever.

"I can't, I have other plans," Jungkook lied as he got up from the couch to go take a shower.

"Like what? You're going to be with your girlfriend?" Jimin sounded sly. Jungkook hummed.

"Yeah, hyung. I'll be with her."

"Ooh, what are you going to do?"

"Something that's none of your business," Jungkook assuaged his curiosity. Jimin grunted in frustration into the phone.

"So that's how you talk?... You got a girlfriend, so now you can see your friends once a month?" complained Jimin.

"Well, I'm sorry, hyung, a girlfriend needs more attention than friends." Jungkook said with a smile.

"Listen, I'd like to meet her properly. Then at the afterparty, the introduction was kind of awkward. Let's go to Jeju, go on a yacht, swim in the water? You'll get some air. Take her, she'll have more fun than sitting in a stuffy apartment. And we'll all have a good time."

Jungkook thought about it. The idea sounded great to him. And what made it even better was the timing. It would be the perfect time to run away from the company, where the engagement and merger announcements were to be made on Friday morning. Jungkook found out about this from his secretary this morning.

"Who's going?" asked Jungkook.

"Who? Me, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Namjoon. Yoongi and Jin are busy as usual. And Taehyung promised to bring his girl."

"And you? Going without your girl?" said Jungkook, mockingly. Jimin laughed back and then said.

"If I need one, I'll find one on the spot." Jungkook chuckled.

"Shall we go on Thursday night?" he suggested, "I'll have all my business done by then."

"No problem," Jimin replied. "I'll make all the arrangements."

"Okay, Jimin-hyung. I'll see you then. Have a great time tonight," Jungkook wished.

"You have a good time too, try not to disappoint your girlfriend," Jimin joked.

"You know I never disappoint," Jungkook replied defiantly. Jimin laughed and said goodbye.

Jungkook hung up the phone. He wondered how to tell you about it. Should I text you or go to your place? He decided to go to your place. And while he was going to the bathroom, he reassured himself that it was only to tell you about your future trip to Jeju, not because he missed you.

Jungkook went into the bathroom. The warm water flowed over his body but did not wash away the tension. He rubbed his neck, still thinking of you.

When he got out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, he heard a loud knock on the door. Someone was pounding on the door.

"What the hell..." he muttered, and moved to the door.

He opened it. And froze.

You were standing on the threshold.

Drunk.

You were swaying, even though you were holding onto the doorjamb. Your eyes were half open, your top slipped down from one shoulder, and you were wearing black sweatpants, Fila brand, with stripes. The strands were gathered at the back of the head into a hairstyle, but it was already disheveled.

Jungkook's heart involuntarily beat fast. Even though you were a mess, why did he find you so damn attractive in his eyes?

You ran your eyes over his voice, his torso, and the towel that was wrapped around his hips. Jungkook saw you swallow nervously, and a moment later, a cheeky smile played on your lips.

"Hey," you said, widening your smile, and then brazenly walked inside without asking permission. Jungkook slowly turned around and saw how you walked and collapse on the couch. He closed the door and walked in your direction.

When Jungkook stopped a few steps away, you looked up at him with your shining eyes.

"Why did you come?" he asked in a low voice. Although inside he seemed to be torn to pieces.

"Oh, you don't know wh..y would I come to yo... you?" you stammered as you spoke. Jungkook wanted to smile. He was very amused by your condition. He had never seen you so drunk before.

"I have no idea. Surprise me," Jungkook said ironically.

You smiled again, but even wider and more slyly. You put your foot up, resting your ankle on your knee.

"I came for the money..."

Jungkook froze. He didn't fully understand what you were saying.

"What kind of money do you need?" he asked.

"My salary. It's the end of the month. *hic* You promised to pay me... I’m not working, and I'm playing your girlfriend," and in the end you hiccupped too.

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. That's right. He promised to pay you. And he hasn't given me any money since then. The incident in Busan doesn't count, because that's different money.

Jungkook folded his arms across his chest, causing your gaze to run treacherously over his arms, lingering on the tattoo and continuing to walk over his bare chest and abs.

You leaned back on the couch, sighed theatrically and started counting with your fingers, very seriously.

"So... For the fake feelings... For the kisses I put up with... For having to smile at your friends... For the shame to your mother, and for your horrible fiancée I put up with..." you stand up but still held on. You walked over to him and tried not to close your eyes. "And then there's the compensation for moral damages. You're a... complicated person, you know?"

Jungkook couldn't stand it and laughed. His laugh was deep, genuine, but short.

"Okay. These are serious points. How much will it be in monetary terms?" he asked calmly, but with irony in his voice.

You pretended to think, and then held out your palm to him.

"5 million won, + for moral damages."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. He looked at your beautiful face for a moment, then turned around and went to get his tablet. He came back to you a minute later and you were already sitting on the couch.

"I need your account number," he said without looking at you.

"Tell your manager to send you all my data from ‘EON Creative’. The account number will be there." You spoke casually, almost ordering him. Jungkook glared at you. He wanted to say something barbed, but held back. He put down the tablet and sat down not far from you.

"Okay. Is that all?" he asked.

"Yes," you said shortly. You continued to sit and didn't seem to be about to leave.

Jungkook turned his head away from you and smiled to himself.

"So you tolerated kissing,?" he asked again. You raised your eyebrows, threw a lazy glance at his lips, and grimaced.

"Yes. I put up with you and your kisses. Your self-assured behavior..." you sat up straight and then leaned toward him. Jungkook could smell alcohol mixed with perfume from you. "You're a big pain in my ass, Jeon..." and then you pulled away. You stood up and looked down at him. "And I've been thinking a lot about what you said the day before yesterday. I... I like having sex with you, so I'm not going to return that rule."

Jungkook's insides turned upside down. He froze, as if someone had paused all his thoughts.

You were standing in front of him-drunk, outspoken, bold, and yet so real. The words that had just come out of your mouth cut through his brain and heart at the same time. "I like having sex with you, so I'm not going to change that rule."

You've just said it - so brazenly, so sincerely... as if it were just a fact that you couldn't keep to yourself anymore.

But it didn't set Jungkook free; on the contrary, it squeezed him from the inside. He did not expect this. And this was not the reaction he wanted.

He wanted... he wanted you to say something else. That you miss having him around. That you miss him. That you feel good with him - not just in bed.

He tilted his head down a little, leaned back and smiled.

"Oh, shit..." he thought.

You were standing over him like a temptress from his deepest dreams. There was no shadow of doubt in your eyes. Only alcohol, a little bit of rebellion, and something dangerous.

Jungkook took a gulp of air.

He looked up at you again. His eyes were no longer laughing. They were catching yours intently.

"If you're not returning that rule..." he said slowly, "...then maybe we should use the opportunity right now."

His voice was deep, husky, almost hot. But inside he was cautious.

You didn't say anything. Shaking your head, you slowly sat down on the couch next to him. Jungkook felt the warmth of your thigh next to him. And in that moment... his whole game of indifference broke down.

"You want to fuck me so badly already, Jeon?" you sounded playful. He moved closer.

"Yes," he admitted immediately. There was no reason to hide it. He really wanted to fuck you. But you were drunk, and that worried him. He didn't want to take advantage of your weakness. "But you're drunk. I think some other time," he rushed back, leaving you disappointed. You sat still for a moment, and then stood up again, but this time to leave.

"Fine. If you don't want to fuck me tonight, call your fiancée. She's definitely sober."

Jungkook instantly felt a fire inside. What a provocateur you are.

You took a step and he grabbed your arm and you fell into his lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close so that you wouldn't get out of his grip.

"What a sharp tongue you have, kitten. Should I put something in your mouth so you can use your tongue for a better purpose?"

Your body was frozen in his arms, but he could already feel your heart pounding furiously. Jungkook looked into your eyes, challenging you, hinting at a game you had both already lost. Your breath hitched, and he... he could barely restrain himself from ripping off your clothes.

He leaned in closer, his lips touching your cheek. He breathed in your scent. He felt a hot wave run down his spine. Your skin is so close, so real. Your body on his lap. Your gaze burning from the inside out.

"Well?" he whispered, almost touching your lips. His hands acted on their own - one slid confidently down your back, the other stopped at your hip. The feel of your warmth... and the way you were sitting... Jungkook knew he couldn't take it much longer. His arousal spoke louder than words. "Do you still want me to call Sukhi?" his voice trembled, but not with irritation. No. It sounded like frank, defenseless, fierce sexual tension.

And when you swallowed your saliva and pressed even closer to him, Jungkook almost lost control. Your body pressed against him, the towel slipped off, and your breath became even hotter. You were like a magnet.

And when you whispered into his ear, barely touching your lips.

"Sukhi can go to hell..."

... Jungkook's mind went blank.

He gasped sharply, feeling his entire body shrink in one explosive gust. His hands tightened their grip, his eyes flashed.

"Say it again," he wheezed, almost growling, feeling every nerve pulsing. Jungkook had to make sure he heard all right. You broke free of his grip and mounted him placing a knees on either side of his thighs.. Your lips moved closer to his and you whispered, burning him with your breath.

"Fuck Sukhi," you repeated and kissed his jaw, you went down his neck line. "And all your rules too..."

Everything that had held him back before shattered.

Jungkook lifted you up. He looked at your face for a moment. And then his lips covered yours - greedily, with wild hunger. As if he had been waiting for this for years, not just a few days. He put everything into that kiss - all his incomprehensible feelings, all his pain, all his anger, everything he could never say. Your response broke him completely. It was no longer a desire-it was an explosion.

Jungkook intertwined your tongues and the kiss only awakened a stronger desire. You responded with no less passion and he realized that you wanted him just as much.

You wiggled on his hips, making his erection bigger. Jungkook's cock got hard enough for you to feel the pressure on your pussy. Jungkook pushed his hips to meet yours and felt the sensation in his lower abdomen that you had already given him once before. Arousal with inner trepidation. The same fucking butterflies.

"Are you falling in love?" he thought as he moved his lips against yours. He wanted to laugh at himself, but he doesn’t do it . Even if he really falling in love with you, he didn't mind at all.

You suddenly pulled away from his lips and stopped moving your hips. Jungkook saw your lips swell slightly from the long, hot kiss. Without looking away, you slid off his hips and shamelessly threw away the piece of cloth that still covered him.

Your eyes shone with a lustful gleam and you smiled at the corner of your lips. Jungkook's cock was hard and you appreciated it. You sank to your knees. Your movements weren't as clumsy as they had been a few minutes ago. You adjusted your hair, brushing it out of your face and tucking it behind your back. All the while, you were looking brazenly into his eyes, showing him your intentions.

When your hands touched his cock, he forgot how to breathe. You wanted to suck him off and he didn't mind. Jungkook opened his legs wider and moved his hips closer to make it easier for you to do what you wanted.

Your tongue touched the head of his cock, and he unconsciously closed his eyes. The head of his cock twitched, and he seemed to start releasing more semen.

You finally took his length into your mouth. The warm wetness of your mouth felt so good, and he couldn't remember the last time he felt so blissful. You moved back and forth a few times, smearing your saliva that had already mixed with his semen. He could feel your tongue and it made him moan.

He opened his eyes. You were on your knees in front of him, your lips so perfectly on his cock. Jungkook's hand reached for your hair, which had slipped down over your face and was in the way. He grabbed it in a tight knot and gently helped you move your head.

With each thrust, Jungkook plunged deeper into you. He reached the end of your tongue with the head of his cock and noticed tears forming in your eyes. Your mouth was open wide, and you worked hard to give him pleasure.

"What a good girl," he praised your efforts. "I loved, when you sucks my cock so well."

You moaned, vibrating around his length. Jungkook felt himself get as hard as he could. His balls tensed. Any more and he would come.

You continued to caress him with your skillful tongue. But at some point you started to breathe heavily, like you were tired, but he was already on the verge.

Jungkook stopped you. He pulled his cock out of your mouth and you took a deep breath. Saliva dripped down your chin and you quickly wiped it away with your hand. Jungkook leaned down and looked into your eyes.

"You need to give me blowjobs more often, they feel so damn good and your mouth is busy," Jungkook whispered, still breathing heavily. You raised an eyebrow defiantly, leaned closer, and touched his lips with your own, barely noticeable.

"You should deserve it more often, Mr. 'I don't hold back'..."

He laughed hoarsely and then straightened up, letting you finish what you started. You took him in your mouth again and this time deeper, your fingers touching his balls, stimulating him to come.

Jungkook groaned, throwing his head back against the back of the couch. The feelings from your mouth and caresses were driving him crazy. He felt his orgasm coming. His cock hardened and the next moment his warm cum spilled into your mouth. You held it open, swallowing everything he gave you.

Jungkook finally stopped spewing his cum. You let go of him and wiped the rest of his cum from your mouth. He was breathing heavily and could feel the orgasm still spreading pleasantly through his body.

Jungkook tried to even out his breathing, and his eyes - still blurry - locked onto your face as he lifted his head.

"Was it good?" you asked, licking your lip. A fiery sparkle played in your eyes. "Is my sharp tongue perfect on your cock?"

You tried to get up, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the couch. You squeaked, not expecting him to grab you, and in a moment you were pinned down by his completely naked body.

Jungkook made himself comfortable between your open legs. His smile spread slowly, as if a spring was unwinding inside him.

"You're... incredible, kitten," he whispered and reached for you. Your lips connected again in a hot kiss. Jungkook could feel his cum on your tongue. He pushed you, slowly feeling his cock harden again. He wanted to feel your wetness. To feel your velvety walls tightly enveloping his cock.

Jungkook broke your kiss, having enjoyed it enough. Now he dreams of tasting your skin. Your firm breasts, your sweet pussy.

He kissed your neck, leaving marks on it. He wanted to bite you, to taste every millimeter of your body.

Jungkook went lower, pulling up your top. There was nothing underneath, only your warm naked body. Your breasts were easily showed and the sight of your erect nipples made his cock harden more. Jungkook's hand grabbed your breast and squeezed it with a little force. He took your nipple in his mouth and played with it with his tongue.

Your flesh was delicious and he loved playing with your nipples so much. He couldn't resist the temptation to bite your tender bud when he heard you hiss. Jungkook looked up at you slyly, not taking off from your nipple. You raised your eyebrows, but your face showed no discomfort, it was pure pleasure.

He did the same thing with your other nipple, but he didn't bite it anymore. He sucked it hard, wanting to leave as many marks on your body as possible.

Jungkook got up and took off your sweatpants along with your thong. He immediately touched you, pushing your folds apart and you already were wet. You bit your lip, keeping moans from leaving your mouth. Jungkook could feel your wetness and it arousal him to hell. He smiled.

"So wet for me," he lowered himself to your hips, "this is what I've always missing."

His tongue touched your wet clit and its softness felt good on his tongue. Jungkook could smell you and taste your sweetness and couldn't stop thinking about how you make him go crazy. How you awakened something new and unknown in him, something which he felt dependent on.

Jungkook's tongue touched you with such tenderness, as if he adored you with every cell in his body. You hissed, grabbing the couch, trying not to lose control. But it was too late - your consciousness was already dissolving in this wave of pleasure that only he could give.

His fingers held your hips, not letting you slip or escape, as if it were something sacred that needed to be held tight. His every movement was precise, felt, almost slow. He wanted to enjoy you to the fullest. Your initially soft moans grew louder as Jungkook licked your folds. He felt his cock was ready to enter you. And he wanted it so badly.

He plunged two fingers into your passage, and that tightness made Jungkook almost wild. He sucked on your clit, making you scream. And it didn't take you long to come on his tongue.

Jungkook finally pulled away from your pussy, licking his lips and wiping his chin from your juices.

"I could stay here forever," he wheezed as he climbed up against you, his voice hoarse, full from the taste of you. "But, goddamn it, I want to be inside you." He kissed you, desperate to prove to you how much he needed you. When your lips parted, you trembled slightly.

"Come on Kook, come inside me please. I can't wait for you to fuck me so good."

Those were the most desirable words. That's all he needed to hear. He spread your legs and stopped at your entrance. He pressed down on your hole and began to sink into you slowly, pausing for a moment at the narrowest spot. He leaned down to you, wrapping his arms around you on either side of your torso. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing his biceps.

You raised your eyebrows, probably feeling the pain of his thrusting, but he slowly continued to push and when he was completely inside you, he froze.

His head fell on your shoulder and he forced himself don’t to come from the tightness of your pussy. His cock still twitched, but he was in no hurry to move so he wouldn't cum in you prematurely. He still wanted to enjoy you.

Jungkook looked up, he saw your eyes closed and your face full of pleasure. He kissed you again, but quickly and not as greedily as before. He just wanted to connect with you completely. And without taking his lips from yours, he began to move slowly.

The sensations were incredible as always, blissful, almost nirvana for him. But today they felt even more special to him than the last time. Jungkook didn't understand why, maybe it was because you had thrown all the rules out and given him full permission, or because of you that he seemed to be in love with you.

He moved slowly. Your wet, hot tenderness enveloped him, and Jungkook felt the line between desire and feeling disappear. It wasn't just a bodily merger - it was something deeper. Something he couldn't explain.

Your every moan was like a drug that inflamed him even more. But the most powerful thing was how you looked at that moment: with your hair down, a little sweaty, but so real... so close.

"She's mine..." this thought flashed through his mind. And this time it sounded decisive. For the first time, she did not frighten him, did not cause resistance. On the contrary, it warmed him, awakened the instinct of not just a lover, but a man who wants to be near you.

His sped up, feeling you shrinking around him. The tightness, the heat, your wetness-it all merged into one crazy cocktail of pleasure that made his mind go hazy.

"God..." he whispered, lowering his forehead to yours. "How do you do this to me, huh?"

"Kook..." you said, looking into his eyes.

Jungkook slowed down inside you, not wanting to cumming so quickly. He kissed your lips once again, which were already swollen from kissing you so often and he couldn't get enough.

"Please," Jungkook said, moving inside you when he stopped kissing you, "call me that always. Don't call me 'Jungkook,'" he asked. He liked the way you used the shortened version of his name so much. He wanted you to call him "Kook" so that he would feel like more than just an acquaintance to you. Something special.

He almost completely withdrew and then re-entered you deeply and gritted his teeth as your inner walls tightened around him.

"Kook..." came out of your mouth again, and his heart nearly flew out of his chest. That sound was like a prayer. Like a promise. Like proof that you accept him not only with your body but also with your heart.

Jungkook leaned closer, squeezing you harder. There was more than just desire in each of his thrusts now. It was... like an attempt to leave a piece of himself in you. For you to carry, to cherish. To remember.

He never wanted to be someone else's. But with you... he suddenly felt that this was not a weakness. It was a privilege. To be yours.

"I've never wanted anyone so much..." came out of his chest in a whisper that barely managed to keep from becoming hoarse. But he quickly fell silent, afraid to reveal his true feelings to you. He was afraid that you might be afraid of them and push them away as usual.

Jungkook froze looking into your eyes. You were both covered in sweat. The smell of sex mixed with the smell of your perfume and his shower gel. You darted your eyes between his, searching for something in them.

"I want you to sit on top of me," he said, and walked out. Jungkook sat down on the couch and grabbed your hand, helping you sit on his lap.

You made yourself comfortable, and Jungkook put his hard cock which was in your wetness against yours enter. You put your hands on his strong shoulders and almost instantly dug your nails into the hot skin. Jungkook put his hands on your hips, helping you to lower yourself onto his length.

This time he entered you painlessly and quickly. You both moaned as you felt each other from a new angle, and that angle drove Jungkook crazy. He felt you completely - every millimeter, every movement of your hips caused a wave of ecstasy that rolled in one after another, not giving him a chance to escape from this sweet captivity.

His fingers dug into your hips harder, but not painfully - he just couldn't do otherwise. He had to hold you, to feel that you were really with him, that this was not a dream. His eyes slid over your face, catching your half-open eyelids, your lips, from which soft moans flew, your neck, damp with sweat.

"You... are so beautiful on top..." he whispered, closing his eyes as you slowly rose and fell back down on him, deeply, all the way down. His cock was enveloped in your warmth, and it was do fucking good.

You slowly move, and he leaned his head on the back of the couch, just breathing heavily, squeezing you. Your every movement made his body tense and his heart beat in a frantic rhythm. He was no longer in control of himself - only you. Only this moment. Only what was between you.

"God, you're so... you're so tight..." he wheezed, his voice trembling with excitement and something more, deeper. He looked at you, and he loved having this sex so much. He fucking loved this passion.

"I... I can't hold back anymore..." he whispered, leaning down and resting his forehead against yours. "I want to come inside you," he said his desire.

"No..." you said, exhaling. You were against it, but Jungkook wanted to come in you, marking you as his.

"Yes," he said, almost imperiously, and tightened his grip on your hips. He leaned back and started pounding you mercilessly with his hips, driving his cock as deep as he could.

After a few more strokes, you came. Jungkook felt your walls against his cock. He tensed and spilled inside you.

You held his shoulders, and Jungkook leaned his head back against the back of the couch tiredly. His chest heaved heavily and deeply. He looked up at you when he shifted his gaze.

"Jungkook..." you began, still sitting on his cock. He moved sharply and pulled you closer to him, sitting up straight.

"Kook..." he corrected you. You raised your eyebrows, a little embarrassed, and then softened.

"Kook..., what's with the habit of coming inside? Don't you know how it ends?" you protested. Jungkook put his arm around your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. He knew that this way he could easily shut you up and to weaken your protest.

Jungkook gently brought his tongue out and ran it over your lower lip, as if he was tasting your taste. His breathing was still labored, his body tense after he all poured out of himself into you. But now that you were sitting on top of him, still so warm, so soft, so close, he didn't want to let go so quickly.

"A habit?" he whispered with a sly smile, kissing you again on the corner of your lips. "It's not a habit, it's more like an unrestrained desire. I know what in the ends being, but you're a responsible girl and you take birth control pills."

You shook your head, unable to contain your indignation.

"But you're irresponsible. Don't play with fate, because it likes to play tricks," you said, getting off his hips. You pulled down your top and found your thong. Jungkook shamelessly watched you put on the thong, admiring your naked ass.

You turned around, catching him in the act. You looked skeptical with one eyebrow raised.

"God, at least you covered yourself..." you said, picking up your pants.

"Why? You don't like it?" he saw you shy, even though you were sucking his cock half an hour ago. Jungkook put his hands behind his head and looked at you lazily.

"I like it, but cover yourself." you said and went over to throw a towel over him that was lying in the corner of the couch. You threw the wet towel on his crotch and tried to run away, but Jungkook grabbed you. "Hey let go, we're done for today." Jungkook squeezed you in his arms, and you covered your face with your hands to prevent him from kissing you.

"Are you sure? I think never too late for a second time," Jungkook joked, trying to remove your hands. He didn't use any force, just pretended to want to get to you.

"No!" you said desperately, "my lips are swelled up from kissing you so much and I'm tired, let me go, I want to take a shower!"

Jungkook laughed. He finally stopped touching you and grabbed your buttocks and lifted you up. He spanked your ass deliciously and gently pushed you.

"Go take a shower, kitten, and get some rest from me. You're staying with me today, and I won't let you run away."

You went and showered, muttering to yourself. Jungkook leaned back on the couch and sighed contentedly. But just then, he heard a notification on his tablet lying nearby on the table.

Jungkook reached over and saw a notification from Manager Lee.

📲 Manager Lee: "I'm sending you the results as for Kang Tehwon. You asked for details. Pay special attention to the biography. Check it out when you can."

Jungkook stood up and wrapped himself in a towel and sat deeper into the couch and opened the file. The report consisted of items that he had seen before: corporate connections, company reports, business trips...

But then his eyes came across the Personal Biography section.

Place of birth: Busan

Education: Pusan University, Faculty of Economics

Period of active residence in Busan: until 2002

Note: In 1997-1998, he was spotted in a relationship with a local model, Han Seo Ri, who was famous in Busan at the time.

Insider information: There are confirmed rumors that Kang Tehwon had a child out of wedlock as a result of this relationship.

Paternity has not been recognized.

Model's name: Han Seo Ri

Child's name: Han Y/N.

Jungkook froze.

He read the paragraph twice. Three times. And again. His palms grew cold. Han Y/N…He looked up from the screen towards the bathroom and the water was running in the shower.

"Is it really..."

His heart was beating fast.

"It can't be..."

Jungkook stood up. The towel slipped slightly from his hips, but he didn't even notice it.

"You're Kang Tehwon's illegitimate daughter...?!Damn it..." he exhaled, clutching the tablet in his hands.

He heard the water stop running from the bathroom. He stood there motionless, his mind racing with many thoughts.

⇠ Previous ⟡ Index ➩ ⟡ Next ⇢

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postazkabansiriussupremacy · 3 days ago

Note

Could you write something for having a deep conversation with Sirius about your future plans, like marriage, kids, etc. just something reallyyy fluffy? Maybe they’re cuddling in bed ready for sleep but they’ve been sidetracked by this conversation🥺

“I don’t see why we don’t sleep in my bed. It’s much more comfortable.” Sirius complains quietly, pressing himself further against your back in an effort to move away from the spring that’s incessantly poking into his side.

“We’ve discussed this.” You reply with a grimace, envisioning the—ahem—decor in Sirius’s childhood bedroom. “I don’t like strange, half-naked women being the last thing I see before closing my eyes at night.”

“I don’t think it’s so bad.” He muses after a moment of thought.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” You state dryly, closing your eyes. “Goodnight.”

“I’m joking.” Sirius says into your ear, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice. “I’d take them all down if I could.”

“I’m sure.” You open your eyes long enough just to roll them.

“I mean it.” He states, this time with a tone of finality. “I hung them up as an act of defiance; I certainly didn’t have the foresight of knowing I’d be a grown man still sleeping in there with my future wife.”

Your eyes snap open at his particular word usage. Your eyebrows raise and you ask to confirm what you thought you’d just heard. “You, um—your future wife?”

“Well… yes.” Sirius chuckles, finding amusement in how surprised you seem to be. “You don’t agree?”

“Yes!” You blurt too quickly, then clear your throat as you try to recover from the embarrassment of sounding too excited. You make an effort to speak more slowly. “I mean of course. We’d just—ah, well—we’d never discussed it.”

“My apologies for not being more clear, then.” He smiles. It’s rare to see you flustered, and it’s flattering to see you jump at the idea of being together forever with him.

A comfortable silence follows as you digest the information.

Sirius wants to marry you someday. Considering the state of everything at the moment, you assume it’ll be someday far off, but someday.

“Kids?” You ask quietly, unsure if he’d fallen asleep.

“However many you’d be willing to give me, darling.” Sirius answers without any hesitation, leaning forward and kissing your head.

#ask #very old ask #thank u for the ask #sirius black #post azkaban sirius #sirius black x reader #post azkaban sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black one shot

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returnofeternity · 7 hours ago

Note

just saw your other post about tfem virgin lottie……i neeeeed a pt 2

reader finally letting lottie fuck them 😵‍💫 lottie just being sooooo desperate and whiny the whole time 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i imagine her being so vocal about how good it feels 😵‍💫😵‍💫 #imawhore

p.s. you write lottie soooo well !!!! been loving ur fics lately, esp in this yellowjackets drought……. paramount if u don’t renew for season 4 i’m showing up at ur doorstep 🥺🥺🥺

tytyyy!!! this means a lot as a lottie fan, dude 😁😁😁 and yaaa!!!! im like 97% sure we're getting that renewal but idk why it's taking so long to confirm O___O and if we don't, i have hope that some other network could pick it up... paramount hurry please 😭😭😭

· · 𐂂 · ·

"you know i'm only doing this because i feel bad for you, right?"

the mocking tone in your voice makes a wave of hot pleasure rush through lottie's belly. she breathes heavily and palms her restrained cock as she watches you kick off your pants, and she finds it difficult to swallow the lump in her throat when you're completely undressed in front of her.

it's even better than all the times she fantasized about this moment.

"you're so pathetic it hurts me, lott." pouting, you saunter up to her until your bare toes are nearly touching hers, and you look down at her on the bed. she looks so wide-eyed and overwhelmed. it's cute. "you're so obsessed with me, it's almost creepy. i mean, you steal my panties and jerk off with them. only perverts do that. are you a perv, lottie?"

lottie whines loudly and shakes her head, her eyes fluttering shut when her cock throbs at your accusation. god, her panties feel so tight. she needs to get out of them before she cums in her pants.

"no," she mumbles. "i just like you."

"mmm." you hum, eyes taking a nice, long look at her pathetic state before you drop to your knees. lottie's gasp has your ears perking up, and you grin at her as you hook your fingers in her pants and pull them down. "jesus, look at the mess you made. and i haven't even done anything but undress."

when your warm hands touch lottie's thighs, she nearly faints.

part of her wants to guide your head to her cock and make you suck her off, but she's frozen. she's tensed up all over, trying her very best not to cum as you slide her panties off, the cool air of her room making her sensitive tip ooze with more pre-cum.

lottie's eerily quiet as you grab onto her shaft, and you look up at her expectantly as you start stroking her, just waiting for her to break and spill out those cute little whimpers.

the only thing you can hear as you swipe your thumb over her head is her muffled groans, hidden behind her pursed lips. you pout and jerk her off faster, your eyes scanning over her scrunched up face, and enjoying how her lips quiver.

looks like she's close to breaking....

a heavy heave floats from lottie's mouth as you spit on her cock and take her into your mouth, and within seconds, her seed is spilling onto your tongue.

"'m sorry, sorry, sorry. couldn't help it." lottie babbles, a dopey smile on her face as she unloads days worth of cum inside your mouth.

you swallow as much as you can before you pull away, and you groan under your breath as her cock still spurts cum over your hand.

"you better last longer than this when you're inside of me."

· · 𐂂 · ·

smth smth lotties big fat balls plapping on your clit as she fucks you doggy style, mumbling about how good you feel over and over again.

she fucks like she fucks, and you can't help but whimper at the thought of all the practice she must've done on her sexdolls and the makeshift fleshlight using your underwear and a few pillows.

she's so fucking eagerrrr!! she's kissing every inch of your body as she fucks you nice and good, praising it and telling you how much she adores your curves and how often she's gotten off to the thought of them.

just a pathetic little thing as you get her to tell you what she would fantasize about. she tells you that she'd practice kissing you and eating you out on the sexdoll, that she'd cum in her pants just from spooning and kissing it. she goes crazy when you ask if she'd throw it out if you were to be her new toy :)

#anon #lottie matthews thoughts 💭#transfem lottie #lottie matthews x reader #© returnofeternity #yellowjackets x reader

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dissolvedprincess · 3 days ago

Note

I love your blog!! Your writing is incredible and I was hoping you'd be able to write me a Frank Castle fluff fic with a reader who's struggling mentally during her period. I got home and I've just been bawling my eyes our for no reason😭

Thank you sweets🥺. I’m so sorry to hear that, the experience is sooo relatable. I’ve been needing a lot of comfort as well and writing this out for you has helped me out a bunch. I hope i can make you feel better!

With love, Z

Morning Comes

꒰ Frank Castle x Fem reader ꒱

✷ CW : no actual warnings, just a bit of angst and a whole lotta comfort

(Not proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

Your eyes slowly crack open at the sound of rain pattering against your windows. The blinds aren’t closed, Frank left it that way for you and the thought of it caused your lips to lazily stretch upward. He knows how much you love it when it rains, more so when you can see it dribble and roll on glass doors and windows.

With rain comes peace and stillness to your rushing thoughts. That’s how it usually goes. But the heavy sigh you promptly let out, seems to prove differently this time.

The pillow shifts as you glance at the glowing numbers on your bedside clock.

01.46

You attempt to gently pull away from Frank’s tight hold on your waist. But no matter how careful you try to be, the slightest bit of movement still manages to pull him from his slumber. You look over your shoulder as you feel his arm twitch and watch him blink his eyes open.

“Hey Frank.” You huff lightly with a tiny smile.

“You okay sweetheart? Does your stomach hurt?” Frank’s awake now, he rises up to lean on his crooked elbow as his other hand settles on your stomach, gently stroking up and down. You like the sight of him when he’s all soft like this, short hair tussled and eyes heavy.

“Or is it your back?” A shudder ran through your spine as you feel his hand on your lower back, already sneaking its way under your shirt.

“No honey, i’m okay. It’s neither actually.” You turn to face him and whisper in a playful tone, “I just need to pee.”

“Oh— right. Okay.” He lets you go and fully sits up to lean against the headboard.

“Go back to sleep Frank.” You mention quietly as you stretch your arms up, humming as one shoulder pleasantly pops.

“No it’s fine. I’ll wait.” Frank seems adorably determined to wait up for you. So you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek before lifting the blanket from your body, “Okay sweetie.”

The hardwood floor feels cool against your bare feet as you pad towards the bathroom, you shiver as the cold air hit your skin. You shuffle quickly to get this over with. Already severely missing Frank’s warm body, and the passing thought of him strangely causes your throat to clench.

You exhale deeply as you relieve the pressure on your bladder. The thoughts in your head freely wonders as your hands mindlessly move to change your pad. Rolling through your collection of past events; heavier ones in particular, and it’s affecting you more than you’d like to admit.

You get up and pull your panties back on. A staggering breath escapes as you felt the shock of cold water on your hands, and with only a quick glance in the mirror, you can see tears start to line your eyes. It’s not a rare occurrence, you understand that already. Things like this just unfortunately— happens, you can never have full control of it.

“Fuck.” You inhaled sharply, followed by a sob that you attempt to cover with a palm over your mouth.

“Sweetheart? You okay?” Frank half yelled, his voice laced with concern.

As you head out to the bedroom, he catches on and quickly rose up to close the distance between the two of you. His big hands provide the much needed warmth as he cups your wet cheeks.

“Hey. Hey. Shhh. What’s wrong, huh?”

“Frank.” Your voice breaks as you call his name, eyes struggling to come into focus through the influx of tears.

“Yeah baby, i’m here. Come on, i got you. Let’s go back to bed.”

Frank walks the two of you back after linking your hands together, and you are grateful for it.

He sits down on the bed first, hand never letting go of yours as he scoots back into the pillows. “C’mere baby.” He gently beckons, and you settle right into his hold. Frank immediately wraps his arms around you to keep you tight against his chest. The feeling of his thumping heart on your cheek, acts as a kind reminder that you aren’t alone. He’s real and he’s right here with you.

“Shhh. It’s okay baby. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“Frank…”

“Yeah? What d’you need? You wanna talk about it?” He’s so gentle with his offers, he knows never to push you to do anything when you feel like control is no longer yours anymore.

You’re not even sure what you need right now, there is not a single problem you could pinpoint right off the bat. Everything just feels overwhelming, you feel too much for painfully abstract reasons. You just want to cry.

“I don’t know…i—“ You struggle to get the words out as you keep choking back tears. “Just. Hold me.”

You feel him softly nod at your simple request. “Yeah. Of course sweetheart, i can do that.” His fingers brush carefully through your hair then to your shoulder. “I got you. I got you.” He whispers into your hair as he kisses your forehead. He reaches for the blanket that got thrown to the other side of the bed and covers your tangled bodies with it. Then there is only the sound of rain coupled with your near silent weeps.

Though the rush of your persistent sobs eventually calms down as the minutes pass. You find yourself in a calmer state, breath coming in sync with Frank’s

You look up to find him already staring back at you. “You okay?” His brows are knitted together in worry.

“Mmhm. Better.”

His drawn up shoulders then softens, “Good.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it yet though.” You just aren’t ready yet. You feel too exhausted to even think about it right now.

He’s smiling now and you can’t help but mirror it. “S’okay sweetheart. You’ll feel better in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

Hope you guys loved it. Whatever you’re struggling with, know that i want you to be gentle with yourself and Frank does too. Take care my sweets!

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fluff #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher fluff #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal

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itoshiierae · 1 day ago

Note

Hi so maybe I just loveee reading angst and Idk if you’re taking request but I wanna request something where the reader caught them red-handed with another girl 😭😭😭. ( w/ Kaiser & Aiku if possible 🥺 )

ᡣ𐭩 ft: michael kaiser, oliver aiku x f!reader

ᡣ𐭩 notes: ohh so you wanted angst??? fineee. here you go 😈 don’t even think about asking for a fluffy part 2. this drabble ends in pain, as it should 🫣 (( not proofread btw ))

ᡣ𐭩 cw: ANGSTTT, heartbreak, cheating (implied & confirmed), emotional betrayal, toxic dynamics, hurt no comfort, suggestive themes, established relationship (fragile), messy endings, emotional devastation

౨ৎ MICHAEL KAISER ౨ৎ

he said he had a late meeting. something about scheduling, sponsor logistics, nothing important enough to question but just vague enough to leave you feeling uneasy.

"long night ahead — save yourself the trouble, okay?" that’s all he says in the voice note, with that low, half-there tone you'd grown too used to hearing, the kind that felt like an afterthought more than a promise.

but you'd left your charger in his room again and now your phone was clinging to its final 10%, blinking like a countdown. to make things worse, the backup charger you swore still worked had given out hours ago. so, with nothing left but frustration and low battery desperation, you found yourself heading to his place.

even though he wasn't supposed to be home.

──★

you'd been to his place more times than you could count — the route was practically muscle memory by now, and you weren't expecting anything, just a quick visit to grab your charger, maybe even leave a note if you felt like it — a soft little "found it. hope the meeting went okay," scribbled on a scrap of paper and left on his desk.

your fingers had barely wrapped around the doorknob — the metal cool against your skin, when the door eased open with a soft click.

and that's when you heard it.

a laugh — light, unfamiliar, and unmistakably not yours... or his, echoing through the space like it had every right to be there.

your body stilled. not out of fear, but with that slow, sinking kind of knowing that settles in before your mind catches up to what your heart already understands. and still, you opened the door, before you could pretend you hadn't heard what you already knew.

and that's when you saw it — saw her — perched at the edge of his bed like it was muscle memory, her legs crossed with ease, posture dripping with the kind of comfort that doesn't come from a first visit, but from familiarity.

her fingers dragged lazily across the sheets, slow and absentminded, like she'd done it before without needing permission. and draped over her shoulders was his jacket — not just any jacket, but the one he always wrapped around you when your shoulders ran cold, the one that smelled like comfort and every moment you thought only belonged to you.

and before you knew it, your worst nightmare slipped quietly into reality.

her fingers brushed his shoulder — delicately, and then her lips pressed against his.

he didn’t startle. didn’t tense or pull away. he simply let it happen, eyes fluttering shut for half a second — not in affection, but in resignation. and maybe that was worse. but for one unbearable moment, you realized — he didn't have to kiss her back for it to be considered a betrayal, he just had to let her. and he did.

and not long after that, he realized you were standing there — frozen in the doorway, watching the whole scene unfold and his body immediately stiffened like someone had hit pause.

he pulled back too fast, too late — panic flaring in his eyes as if suddenly remembering the weight of what this looked like, what it meant & what it had already cost him.

"liebling—" he stuttered, eyes widening, voice soft like he already knew how this would end.

"… what is this?"

he moved like you mattered — like every step risked losing you, gaze flickering between your eyes and the space between the both of you, unsure if coming closer would be comfort or catastrophe.

"liebling..." he said again, gentler now. almost as if the name would save him thinking it hadn't already lost its place in your chest.

“she kissed me,” he whispered, barely audible — like he was more afraid of your silence than your actual reaction.

“it didn’t mean anything.”

his eyes searched yours, not with certainty, only with desperation — a plea for belief without the weight of truth behind it, offering nothing real to hold onto, just enough to wound you softer. and for a second, you hated that he was being careful, like he still wanted to protect you from the truth even while standing knee-deep in it. because if it really meant nothing, then why did he look guilty? why did he look like he'd already lost you?

you laughed, but it came out wrong — bitter, shaky, like something cracked loose in your chest and escaped before you could swallow it back down.

"you let her," you said, voice low, trembling around the edges.

"you didn't even flinch."

and that was what broke you. not the kiss that happened, not the girl wearing his jacket, not even the lie he tried to pass off as mercy — but the stillness, the ease, the way he just sat there and allowed it happen like it didn't cost him anything.

afterwards, you didn't scream, didn't throw your keys or even demand an apology that would probably come too late. instead, you walked away — quietly like you just knew if you didn't leave now, your feet would eventually betray you and stay.

he tried calling after you but his feet stayed rooted where he stood, because somewhere deep down, even he knew that this time, there was no talking his way out of it, no charm to lean on, no version of this where you stayed.

౨ৎ OLIVER AIKU ౨ৎ

you'd seen it coming. not all at once, but in pieces. the late nights, the vague excuses, the shift in the way he kissed you — less gentle, like affection had become something he owed instead of something he felt.

you told yourself it was stress, the season, the pressure of playing well — anything to keep from naming what was already unraveling between you.

but that night, when you let yourself into his apartment with a quiet kind of hope and a spare key he swore only you had, it hit all at once.

another girl’s heels sat by the door. her laughter spilled out from the kitchen, soft and careless, and his voice — low, familiar — was speaking to her with a comfort that used to only belong to you. you didn’t even move. just stood there, keys still in hand, heart dragging behind you like it had just learned how to limp.

then she appeared — flushed, half-dressed, wearing one of his old training shirts like it had always been hers. she reached for him like it was nothing — wrapping her arms around his waist with a kind of ease you hadn't felt from him in weeks.

and he let her.

he didn’t flinch or pull away. one hand rested lightly against her back, his head dipping slightly already familiar with the shape of her in his space. there was no urgency in the way they held each other, the kind that was built through repetition rather than impulse.

then his eyes met yours — and in that instant, you saw it. the slight flicker of surprise. the slow unraveling of someone who hadn’t realized you’d been watching long enough to feel everything twice.

but he didn’t tense. just looked at you — calm, unbothered as if you’d shown up early to something you were never invited to in the first place.

"thought you'd be out late," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, voice too casual for the way your world had just cracked in two.

"…. so you're not even gonna lie?" your voice came out softer than expected, like you weren’t sure which would’ve hurt more — the truth, or him not even trying to soften it.

"what's the point?" he said with a shrug, the smallest twitch of a smile in the corner of his mouth.

"you knew what i was when you met me."

you wanted to throw something at him, scream until the walls peeled, cry until your voice gave out — but all you managed to say was, "i thought you were trying to be better."

he didn't answer. didn't even bother to argue, just stood there in the silence he created, arms slack at his sides, mouth parted like maybe the words were coming — but they never did. and that silence told you everything. you should’ve known by now: oliver aiku doesn’t change. not for anyone.

not even for you.

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x female reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku #blue lock drabbles #blue lock angst

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blasphemyandbackshots · 1 day ago

Note

i one day aspire to push out as many bangers as you do on the reg (do you have any tips for writers block or how you get inspired to write so much? 🥺)

3 and 38 dabi?? (YOU WRITE MY MANS SO WELL I CANT GET ENOUGH) 👀

₊˚ପ⊹ “You like being used like this? Like a toy? Like a fuckdoll?”

₊˚ପ⊹ “I’ll let you go… right after I’ve made you come for me one more time. Or five.”

Your arms trembled where they were braced against the dingy mattress. Sweat clinging to your skin in the suffocating heat of the hideout. Dabi’s belt hung off one loop of his pants, half-fastened, but he hadn’t bothered dressing fully again. Not when you were still twitching on the bed, leaking onto the sheets.

“Still with me, doll?” he drawled, voice dry and wrecked from smoke and groans. His burned hand smoothed down your spine. “Fuckin’ mess down here.”

You whimpered as his fingers slid between your thighs again and right between your drenched pussy lips. No mercy, not after how many times he’d already made you come, tongue and cock and filthy words all leaving you raw. But he grinned when you tried to jerk away.

“You like being used like this?” he murmured, cruel and amused. His fingers thrust in with no warning. “Like a toy? Like a fuckdoll?”

Your breath hitched, broken and high. “Dabi—”

He gave your ass a sharp slap. “That’s not a no.”

You hated how right he was. Hated how your body clenched around his fingers even now, hungry and soaked. Chasing more even though your legs were shaking and your hole was sore.

“Look at you,” he muttered, sliding in deeper. “Dripping for me after how many times already?”

“Please,” you begged, not sure if it was for mercy or more.

He just leaned over you, teeth grazing your ear. “I’ll let you go…”

Relief bloomed in your chest and your breath stuttered.

“…Right after I’ve made you come for me one more time.” His voice darkened. “Or five.”

You sobbed into the mattress, and he laughed, he fucking laughed, because of course he fucking did.

“Better hold on,” he growled, lining himself up again. “Still gotta fuck the rest of this bratty attitude out of you.”

His cock pushed in hard and you choked on a scream.

“You wanted this,” he bit out, grabbing your hips like a vice. “You knew what you were getting into.”

You had. And you still came crawling back to him like you always did, like he was a fire you wanted to burn yourself on. Every thrust was brutal, slapping skin, breathless gasps and your voice cracking into helpless cries.

“That’s it,” he rasped. “Come again for me. Make it messy.”

You didn’t mean to. You didn’t want to. But when his hand reached between your legs, rubbing exactly where you needed it, the pressure snapped all over again. You sobbed his name like a curse, body spasming. He fucked you through it. Not once slowing and showing no kindness. When he finally came, biting down on your shoulder like he meant to leave scars, he slumped against your back, panting.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he muttered. “Not when you take it this good.”

You didn’t answer. But he smiled against your skin, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your sweat. He already knew you’d be back.

babyyy,

listen… I don’t fucking know. I’m high on visuals like watching scene packs, watching snippets of porn. You should see my notes. They’re so fucking messy like… sometimes I write the messiest shit in existence before I go word by word.

Also imagine this; Dabi is standing in front of you. Of course that asshole is towering over you. You see his eyes, that little grin. You see staples and burned skin. You smell the smoke and fire on his skin. You just know, his hands are rough. There isn’t a single gentle bone in his body. But that body? Is yours. It presses to your heated skin. It feels good. Unique. His burned skin and staples scratching your skin. That burn when he claims you…

Now let’s talk the opposite and take Choso. You just know what a sweet guy he is. But that also he isn’t. He is all new in human’s feelings, the own reactions of his body. His kisses are messy, maybe his tongue too deep. Maybe there’s some spit running down your lips. But he’s so so eager for you. He wants to learn you in every way possible.

I like to dream about these scenarios (please no shame). Not necessarily about the fucking itself, but everything that happens before.

Make messy notes. Then make an extra note with character traits. They don’t even have to be canon. Save YouTube links. You can put in the search bar: dabi scene packs.

They’re anime men, but let them sit next to you. Let them guide you. Reread your old stories. Do not push yourself!!

Think about plots you want to see yourself in. I literally wrote a small series with some of the JJK men in an alternate universe, cuz I wanted to see myself in it. It doesn’t have to be anime specific.

Writing is about fun. Even when you only write things like; Dabi took me on a walk. He held my hand and we shared a bubble tea. It’s our first date and I’m so excited. I hope he will kiss me.

And then when you feel it, you go over it; Despite of who Dabi was, he still thought about doing nice for his girl. He usually wasn’t into those kind of things. Normally he preferred beer and a smoke. Then a dirty hookup in the dark alley. But now here he was, carrying a cup of bubble tea he didn’t like with a girl he fucking liked a lot. Their fingers were curled together, and now and then, she’d feel his staples. Would caress the burned skin. And it was less unpleasant than expected. Maybe he fucking loved it even. Maybe he’d taste the sweet tea from her lips later and suck it from her tongue…

Now that was corny as fuck. But do you see, baby? You write notes and from that notes you try to expand it into a full scene. You create a world. Maybe it isn’t perfect. Maybe it’s rough around the edges, but it’s your world and the readers can’t wait to read about it and be a part of it.

… babbled a lot, but I hope I could help a little. You can do it, baby. I believe in you.

#🩶#I’m sorry for the word vomit at the end #dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi x you #bnha dabi #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #touya smut #touya todoroki #mha x reader #mha smut

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melanchoire · 2 days ago

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Hiiii😛 I was thinking like G!P Minji (or Hanni, whoever u prefer writing for) after the complex con show she's like exhilarated after the show and reader (her gf) is waiting backstage after the show to congratulate her and yk

cw: blowjob, face fucking, deep throat, throat fucking.

minji doesn’t even need to be tired because she is always in the mood for a blowjob. i would dare say she might enjoy cockwarming more, you know, lying on the couch with her eyes closed and enjoying the warmth that her sweet girl’s mouth is providing to her cock <3 but minji would end up grabbing your hair and guiding your head up and down so you could give her a good blowjob because her soft mode ended

talking about complex con she definitely needed a head after a grueling performance. yes, she enjoys being on stage, but the stress and tiredness make her get a little moody and she would practically burst out in the direction of the changing rooms looking for you, bringing her hands to the waistband of her pants on the way because she prefers to be prepared in advance ☺️ and well, once you’re alone with her, there is nothing better than getting on your knees and giving this great unofficial leader a blowjob for all her efforts

ohhhh and if we talk about mean dom minji 🤤 i can’t see her as a sweet dom because she has this motherfucker face and an attitude that makes you drool 😭 so yes, she would take your head in both of her giant hands and hold you in place so she could fuck your mouth with her thick cock, not caring if she is destroying your throat to the point where it will hurt tomorrow and you’ll have trouble swallowing food later, it’s much better to swallow her cum anyway!

hanni is sweeter unlike minji. she would welcome you with open arms, smiling at you in the band’s dressing room because she had no idea you would be there! you probably told her you would watch her presentation and not miss it, and she thought you would watch the broadcast from your apartment, not that you would travel there and see her performance live and direct 🥺 hanni would be all “omg thank you so much for coming to see me, darling 🥹” and almost jumping for joy to have you here with her after long months of busy schedules

and giving her head is a little sweeter because while hanni can be degrading, she would end up talking sweetly and giving you compliments because she is a sweet girl by nature :( yeah hanni can be mean as hell when she wants and give you a hard time, but in moments like these she can only moan cutely and tell you sweet things as if you weren’t choking on her cock and having saliva running down your chin from how much she is fucking your throat right now, but it doesn’t matter! she knows how to make the moment sweet and romantic

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semisasseater · 24 hours ago

Text

MINE AGAIN.

you were always mine baby.

㞫 : cheating, emotional manipulation, obsession, stalking, kidnapping, restraints, non-con themes, distress 1,543 i’ll write why i disappear later 🥺 my writing is bad atm so uh.. narrated pov

She didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. Not in front of me, anyway. She just looked at me. And in that moment standing in the hallway with my hands still wet from the bathroom sink, watching her quietly put on her shoes like she had no more tears left to give I realized I fucked up.

Bad.

She threw my phone onto the couch like it was something filthy, something she couldn’t bear to touch anymore. And then she walked out of my life.

Didn’t slam the door. Didn’t yell.

She just… disappeared.

I stood there in the silence she left behind. Silence that felt heavy. Suffocating.

I should’ve run after her. Should’ve apologized. Should’ve dropped to my knees right there and begged. But I didn’t. I just stood there like a goddamn idiot.

Because I didn’t realize then what I was about to lose.

The first day after she left, I was fine.

I told myself it was better this way. That she finally figured it out and saved me the effort. No more clinginess, no more annoying texts, no more pretending to care.

I even went to see 🎀 that night. Hooked up. Smiled. Faked a laugh or two.

But when I got home? I checked my phone.

No unread messages.

No photos from her. No long paragraphs about how much she loved me.

The quiet felt wrong. My phone screen felt empty.

I turned it off and went to bed.

But the second I laid down, my hand instinctively reached for where she used to sleep beside me.

The bed was cold.

Fuck.

By the fourth day, I couldn’t sleep.

I found her toothbrush still in the bathroom and stared at it like it was some kind of relic. I sat on the couch and played our old playlist on repeat. The one she made for us. Every stupid love song she loved was now a knife to the chest.

God, even the way she used to hum along while clinging to me—I used to hate it.

Now I missed it like oxygen.

I opened my texts with her and scrolled through them all.

“Don’t forget to wear your scarf today 🥺 it’s freezing.”

“Did you eat?”

“I miss you already 😭 come back to bed.”

Back then, I rolled my eyes at those messages.

Now? I would’ve done anything just to read a new one.

Heeseung noticed first.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Still thinking about her?”

I didn’t answer.

Jake leaned back on the couch. “Then why’d you cheat on her, bro?”

I stared at the floor. “I don’t know.”

And I didn’t. Not really. It seemed so simple at the time. She was annoying. Overbearing. I thought I’d feel free once she was gone.

But I didn’t feel free.

I felt hollow.

By the second week, I was losing it.

I made fake accounts to text her. I watched her through my burner Insta, watched her post stories of coffee cups, quiet bookstore corners, blurry city lights.

But never a selfie. Never anything with another guy. Thank god.

I started driving by her place late at night. Just to see if the light in her room was on. Just to feel close again.

I knew it was wrong.

But I couldn’t stop.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could still see the look she gave me before she left.

She looked like she hated me.

And the worst part was I didn’t blame her.

Then I found the Reddit post.

I wasn’t even looking for anything serious. Just something, anything, to distract my mind.

But there it was.

“Want your ex back? Why not just kidnap them?”

I clicked on it, thinking it was a joke.

But the more I read, the more something twisted inside me started to agree.

She wasn’t answering my texts. She was ignoring me. She was moving on.

And I couldn’t let her go.

If she wouldn’t come back willingly…

Then I’d just have to make her come back.

I planned everything.

Fridays. She always walked home from campus alone. I memorized the route. Watched it three times before deciding on the spot.

I bought the supplies rope, chloroform, zip ties. Parked my car in the alley. Told my friends I was out of town for the weekend.

And then I waited.

When I saw her walking that Friday evening, her headphones in, her coat wrapped tight around her, I felt my heart squeeze.

She still looked so pretty.

I almost called her name. Almost gave up on the plan entirely.

But then I remembered the texts. The ones she never answered. The way she looked at me before she walked out.

She wouldn’t forgive me. But maybe… maybe I didn’t need her forgiveness.

I just needed her back. She didn’t even scream when I pressed the cloth over her face. She only got out a muffled gasp, wide eyes looking up at me like she didn’t believe it was real.

It didn’t take long for her to go limp.

I caught her carefully. Like something fragile. Like something precious. I whispered, “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you now.” And for the first time in weeks i finally smiled.

@fics-lovebot

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the-kr8tor · 2 days ago

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Thinking of minotaur Hobie yet again because the last fic made me sad and it's forever stuck in my little heart

Spoilers for minotaur Hobie fic if y'all haven't read Katy ripping everyone's heart out😔

I love to imagine minotaur Hobie very curious about the things he's never seen or heard of: a market? He would love to go, he worries that he might be a bit too big to fit or that he'll scare the merchants but he just wants to learn. He wants to hold your hand and go see people play music in the square the way you've described it to him.

If and when that happens (HE NEVER LEFT, HE'S ALRIGHT THEY'RE BOTH ALRIGHT, NO FALL, THEY ACTUALLY JUST GOT A SLIGHT BUMP ON THE HEAD AND CONTINUED BEING IN LOVE AND THE ARROWS WERE FAKE DAMN IT) he stays near you, sticking to your side in an incredibly shy manner. Just watching in awe as you keep him close to you and braid his hair out of his face, letting him enjoy the peace amongst men that he's been seeking his whole life. His place is found, the people around him no longer regard him meanly except from a few odd or angry stares. But does that matter when he's finally around others? When you tug at his hand and laugh it reminds him of what he hadn't had as a child, a small docile creature of the earth, of a mother he never knew. He knew this was somehow all he ever wanted, they did not have to love him for him to feel loved. He smiled softly, tears forming in his eyes as he danced with you. So careful of your form, gentle hands and tender stares all for you. The same way you treat him, an equal and a tender new formed and founded love. He did not need to understand love if you were with him, to him you might as well have been love itself. Grandiose in the smallest of ways.

He would demand, although politely, for you to help him learn how to read and write. He wanted nothing more than to understand the world around him, to flirt with words the same manner poets do. To read, just as the great scientists and philosophers do. He wished to be man. The truth to you was that he was more of a man than anyone else in the land, more human than the people who took your wings, more human than the people who kept him in the forsaken labyrinth. So learning, he would. He would drink up your words, ambrosia to his senses every time you'd excitedly praise him for doing well. He caught on quick, he'd survive. So would you, he'd read to you once he was finally comfortable enough to do so. Carefully threading his fingers in your hair while reading in the softest voice he could manage for you as you rested in his lap, the birds humming their morning tune.

-🪦 the denial....

MINOTAUR! HOBIE MY BELOVED YOU DESERVE BETTER (I say as if I didn't give them that ending 😂😂)

AHHH IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT FIC YET PLEASE DO!!!!!!

Oh goodness 🥺🥺🥹 I can just imagine him staring at a seashell curiously with his big brown eyes and r wishes that she could draw like the master artists of their time to preserve that moment

HE WOULD BE SO HAPPY TO BE AROUND PEOPLE AND NEW THINGS HE HAS NEVER SEEN BEFORE 😭😭😭😭😭😭 But alas the fates didn't give them what they wanted

Sure... Sureeee there's so fall they just tumbled over a puddle and the arrows were just nerf darts 😆

GAHHHHH he would be so careful and tender with you like every touch would be gentle and every word he says to you would be soft and full of love 😭 they'd have a love that even Aphrodite herself would envy 😭🥹

HIM LEARNING HOW TO READ AND WRITE AND R TEACHING HIM PATIENTLY WOXNKWNXIWNS like i can imagine them doing that in the middle of a flower field next to the hut they made themselves as their new home 🥺

Anyway i love u minotaur hobie

#ask answered #chatting with lovelies #hobie thoughts #minotaur! hobie #minotaur au #🫶🫶🫶#🪦 anon

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buckbuckbarnesstuff · 2 days ago

Text

Oh my gosh, this was so perfect, darling!! I am SWOONING!!! 🙈💜

He’s always just a few feet away. Never distracted. Never busy with anything but keeping a close eye on you. It’s his job. And he does it like his life depends on it.

That’s just so attractive for no reason at all. But ugh, I love that he is taking his job so serious!! I can FEEL his protectiveness and it has me looking for a fan because I am getting HOT!! He is like the calm in the storm who would never let anything touch us 🤭💜

He raises an eyebrow at you. His plump lips twitch slightly at the corners as he looks at you instead of the food. Then he shrugs. “Whatever you like.”

The way he is so FOCUSED on her omg hold me please or I will crash to the floor!! And the slight twitch of his mouth has me melting 💕

Bucky’s callused hand immediately shoots to the gun that’s tucked in the back of his pants. His shoulders tense and he takes a step closer to you until your side is tightly pressed against his stomach. His other hand reaches out, grasping you by the shoulder and pulling you flush against him. He does that. All the time when there’s the possibility of danger.

My heart skipped several beats at that damnnn!! This is devestating in the BEST way!! He is so incredibly intense omg. I love that he doesn’t even think about it, just presses her up against him and acts like a shield. I wouldn’t be able to do a single thing if I were pressed up against him this way 👀💜

Bucky’s the guy that drinks his coffee black. His whiskey neat.

That is simply spot on. That’s how I picture him!!

But he would be damned if he didn’t pick up on your habit of always having something sweet after a meal.

Nooo helpppp what are you doing to me 😭 how are you able to make him such an intense and scary dude but also so SOFT and CARING and ENDEARING??!!

He’s an open book for you. Voluntarily. He could hide his emotions, but he doesn’t. He wants you to know. Wants to see that smile on your face when he’s feeling joyful. A smile that could light up a whole town. A smile that lights up his whole universe.

Gosh, this is everything!! The softness just radiates off the screen!! And the fact that he is an open book only for her has me absolutely in bliss!! He chooses vulnerability just to make her smile 🥺 This part made me swoon so hard. You have me wrapped around your finger wow!

I loved reading this, darling!! You are doing so amazing!! Thank you so much for sharing 💜 This was truly beautifully written and all I needed right now!!

Protect my heart

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Don’s Daughter!Reader

Summary: Protection. His job. Bucky has a duty to uphold for the daughter of his best friend. But he often finds himself exceeding the baseline expectations of his job because of you.

Warnings: fluff, Dad’s best friend, mention of mafia, protection, sweetness,

Wordcount: 1.219 Words

Authors Note: Beta’d by @soelstress and @thevillainswhore. Mollie, thanks for the help and your encouragement, too! Written for Mafia Bingo [The don’s daughter] by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor. Divider made by me.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Blue eyes. Ocean blue — deep and stormy. They watch you, every day. Every hour. Every minute.

You’re not even sure if he keeps an eye on you when you sleep, or if he allows himself some sleep too. He should.

But no matter if he’s had a long night with you at one of your dads clubs and gets up early the next morning, or if you call it an early night and he finally manages to rest for himself. He always looks good. Always.

Brown locks fall often into his face, curling just underneath his piercing eyes. Soft stubble covering his cheeks, trimmed like he spends at least an hour in the bathroom every morning. You longed to push them back behind his ear, if only to touch him for a little while.

He’s always just a few feet away. Never distracted. Never busy with anything but keeping a close eye on you. It’s his job. And he does it like his life depends on it.

And maybe it does. Because you’re not just someone. Not when your father is the Don of the biggest mob in the country.

So, you have Bucky to follow you. To protect you.

James Buchanan Barnes, but has a preference of being called Bucky, is your dads best friend. They have known one another for years. Decades.

And you were afraid that now you had grown an attachment towards him; one that border lined on the cusp of danger.

“Buck?” You hum as you turn your head toward the man who’s protecting you day by day.

He’s standing with his hands crossed above his belt next to you. His eyes scan the surroundings, but stay mostly on you. Bucky’s suit is neat, dark blue and highlights the light of his bright eyes.

He nods, acknowledging that you talked to him. But he doesn’t say anything. Barely does. Somehow you both still understand one another.

You’re the one who talks. He’s the one who listens. Has to. Or maybe he does it because he wants to. Because most of the time he really looks interested in the one-sided conversation. It shouldn’t give you butterflies, but it does.

“Croissants or sandwiches?” You ask, pouting at the baked goods of your favorite bakery.

He raises an eyebrow at you. His plump lips twitch slightly at the corners as he looks at you instead of the food. Then he shrugs. “Whatever you like.”

You groan, crossing your arms in front of your chest. There it is, he thinks to himself as he smirks at you. Slightly. Almost not even visible. But you catch it, of course you do. Always do.

“Don’t gimme that attitude now, princess,” he hums, shaking his head slightly. Before Bucky gets the chance to do anything further, a man in a suit walks closer.

Bucky would wrap himself around you like a soft blanket in a rain of bullets. He wouldn’t hesitate. He would jump in front of you to catch them all, only to make sure you will never get hurt. Never with him around.

The man smiles softly at you, but his eyes widen as he notices Bucky behind you. His glistering metal hand on your shoulder causes the other guy to sweat and take a step back.

Poor guy. He just wanted to buy some baked goods. And now? He’s walking backwards, slowly, his hands lifting just as slow. He’s no danger. Never was.

But for Bucky? Everything could be a risk. Protect at all costs. Danger or not. Protect.

As the guy walks away, shaking and mumbling under his breath, he’s wiping his sweat off his forehead.

The moment he’s out of your view, Bucky relaxes. He lets go of your shoulder and takes a step backwards. His hands gripping the front of the belt as he watches you like nothing happened. Nothings ever gonna happen as long as he’s around.

While you hated having an unwanted shadow following you when Bucky first got the job, you appreciate it now. As long as he’s there you know you’re safe. But not only that, Bucky’s also really funny… sometimes.

There’s very few times he cracks a joke. Mostly when you’re alone together. It’s the only time he allows himself to stop being so guarded. So protective.

“So, croissants or sandwiches?” You ask once more, causing another small smile to tug on his lips. “Or something else?”

“Whatever you want,” he repeats again.

“Bucky,” you whine, almost stomping your feet. This man. This man. Sometimes he makes you go crazy.

Handsome idiot.

“What do you want?” You grumble, watching a waitress walking toward you.

“You don’t need to always buy food for me. First off all, I own money myself. And I’m here to protect you, not to have dinner with you, sweetheart,” he says, his tone rough and almost cold. Almost.

There’s always a hint of softness when he talks to you. In public less, but it’s still there. For you. Only for you.

You roll your eyes. The attitude again.

Secretly, he loves it. Obviously, he huffs at your display of defiance.

You won’t let him off the hook that easily. You never do. Taking care of him like he’s more than just the guy who’s your shadow. More than just your bodyguard.

“But you need to be strong to protect me,” you say, smiling so damn sweet at him. You greet the waitress as she waits for you order, telling her what you would like before you turn to Bucky to wait for him to tell her, too. “And maybe… I like having lunch with you.”

And breakfast. And dinner. And a midnight snack after a party. He knows, because you always ask him to eat with you.

“Fine,” he huffs, his voice holding a rough edge but you know deep down he’s melting for you. “A sandwich, please. And one of these bread rolls with chocolate.”

You grin. He hates those. Too much sugar. Way too sweet for him.

Bucky’s the guy that drinks his coffee black. His whiskey neat.

But he would be damned if he didn’t pick up on your habit of always having something sweet after a meal.

“Happy?” He asks and you nod with a wide grin. His eyes light up, slightly showing the joy he feels. Bottled up inside, deep down. But for you, always visible.

Then he’s taking the baked goods the waitress offers and thanks her before leading you toward a table in the corner. He can watch everything from there, but not everyone can immediately see you.

Privacy. Safety. And your favorite: lunch with Bucky.

Comment and Reblog to share some love!

Written with the prompt: "You don't need to always buy food for me." "But you need to be strong to protect me." by @creativepromptsforwriting.

@armystay89 @rogersbarber

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dsireland86 · 1 day ago

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Hi, how are you? I was wondering if I can get a nick folio request where you’re friends with the band and the topic of sex comes up and the guys find out that no man has ever been able to make you cum and nick wants to make it a challenge to get you off and be the first man to make you cum as many times as he can. So overstimulation, smutty and fluffy where feelings get admitted.

Thank you so much ☺️🥺

Oh no... this might ruin me!

The Challenge

Tag list:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly @potterheadquinn @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @montgomery-929494 @missduffsblog @lilcazy011 @Lonelydragonlady @Mattysbitchvic @athenexe @pipidoll

“Oh my god, this movie is boring as fuck," Matt groaned, removing his hat and letting his hair out.

"Agreed. Can we change it, please," Nicholas sighed, hugging the pillow tight.

"No! Don't change it. I need to find out what happens," Jolly cried, terrified he was going to miss something important.

"Dude, it's predictable," Matt chided, turning his head to stare at the tall Swede who's eyes were glued to the tv screen. Jolly just waved him off, fixating his gaze even harder on people inside the large rectangle.

Moments later, the two main characters exchanged kisses and, in a matter of seconds, were entangled in a very detailed sex scene that was filling the living room with crude sounds that grew intensely uncomfortable.

"Wow, okay, this is awkward," you laughed, turning your face into Folio's shoulder, "What, you don't like intense sex scenes," he joked, nudging you in the side.

"Um no, not really. Most of the time they’re not even accurate. Too dramatic and way over climactic to be real."

"Says you," Matt chimed in.

"Say's logic, Matt. I mean, do you honestly think every girl looks or sounds like that when she's doing it," you stated, pointing at the tv.

"Don't they?"

You gave Noah a look that made him chuckle.

"Well, it sure sounds pretty good. I think it's legit," Jolly said.

"Yeah, okay," you snickered.

"What? Are you saying you've never made sounds like that during sex?"

"Jolly, dude. Really?" Folio narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he muttered to you as you turned your face against his shoulder again to hide your embarrassment.

"Sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to embarrass you," Jolly apologized. You smiled softly at him, telling him it was okay.

"All I'm saying is that scenes like this make the expectations too high, and then girls end up frustrated and angry that their partners can’t do what they're assuming is supposed to happen."

"Well, that sounds like a partner issue then," Noah stated.

"You’re probably right,” you agreed with Noah.

"Are you saying you’ve had shitty partners; boyfriends or just a random accidental pickup?" Folio asked, genuinely curious.

"Both," you stated honestly. "The first two guys I dated cheated on me. The second break up hurt me so badly that I had a, what did you call it," looking up into Folio's adorably sweet face.

He grinned at you, brushing the loose hair away from your eyes. "A random accidental pickup," he smiled softly.

You stared at Folio for a moment, drawn in by the way he was gazing at you; sultry and seductive without even trying to. You noticed things about him you never had before, like the way his lips were thin yet full and completely kissable and his cute button nose with the small gold hoop that one could only see if they stared hard enough, and the gold stud he'd traded the dangled cross for that somehow complimented his jaw line perfectly.

"Yeah, that," you replied, sitting up while clearing your throat. "Anyway, a guy friend and I had one of those, and it turned out to be the worst mistake ever. We got drunk at a party, and, well, you know how that story goes."

“Damn. What happened after?”

You shrugged, hating to even have to think about it.

“I figured out he was just using me.”

"You mean he just took what he wanted and bailed?"

You nodded.

"I didn’t think about it at the time. I should’ve known better though. The other guys I’d been with did the same thing, but eventually, I just convinced myself that it was the way it was and until eventually, it didn’t hurt anymore.”

All five guys looked at each other as if you'd just told them you were a virgin.

"What?"

"They never made sure you, you know... finished first?" Nicholas asked.

"Um, no," you said softly, looking down at your hands in your lap. "Were they supposed to?"

"Any decent guy does," Noah implied.

"Do you," you asked jokingly.

"Absolutely. Every time," he smiled. Noah might have been your friend, but that didn't mean you didn’t have a crush on him. He knew exactly how to get your blood pumping every time, and he knew it. Just like now.

"Oh, well, lucky them," irritated with girls you’d never met.

"Y/N, making sure the girl finishes first should always be the priority. Like Noah said, decent guys know that," Folio added when you laid your head down on his shoulder.

"I honestly don't think it would have been a big deal even if it didn't happen first. Just as long as it happened."

"But it did."

"No, it didn't."

"What? But you said,"

"You asked if he took what he wanted and left, and I said yes. Nick was the one who mentioned the finishing first thing."

"So, what you're telling me is that none of the guys you’ve been with were able to make you cum?"

Folio took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. Your body shivered from his touch, from the way his fingers brushed over the skin on the back of your hand, quickening your breath. The calloused skin on his palms raked against yours, matching the size of your hands together as he gently played with your fingers, waiting for you to answer. With his finger on your chin, Nick turned your face towards him, dragging his eyes up and down as if trying to memorize your features.

"Yeah," you swallowed hard, unable to look away, feeling compelled to answer him. "That's what I'm telling you."

Nick traced your bottom lip with his thumb, a teasing gesture that had you swallowing back a whimper. You couldn't stop yourself from darting out the tip of your tongue and catching a taste of it, watching the light in his eyes turn darker. The saltiness on Nick's skin heightened your senses, leading you to wonder if the rest of him tasted just as good. You heard a faint groan escape him from somewhere deep inside his chest, shifting as the intense feeling of arousal from it slipped between your thighs.

"I can fix that if you want me to. I bet I can make you cum more than once," was all Folio said.

Your eyes were fixed on his lips as he said those words. Your heart raced. The thrill of what was happening between you two was exciting and you didn't want it to stop.

"You can? I mean, why would you want to?" you stammered, barely above a whisper.

"Because I'm attracted to you. Because you're beautiful. Because I want you," Folio replied, slipping his arm around you and pulling you closer to his chest. He smelled like sandalwood and whatever shampoo he used. "It's never been a secret, Y/N. I've never tried to hide it from you or pretend I wanted anything less."

"You- you said you wanted friendship,"

"I did. I do," he nodded, continuing to play with the fingers of your hand that you now had against his chest. "But if we're being honest here, what I've been feeling lately is more than a crush. Every time I see a guy hit on you, I get jealous. And every time I'm around you," he paused, pressing you tighter against him until his grip felt almost bruising. The look in his eyes told you he wanted to be totally honest with you.

"What?" you asked, needing him to tell you what you wanted to hear.

"I want to keep you safe and fuck you like an animal at the same time," he breathed, almost as if he was afraid.

You arched into Folio, claiming his lips, kissing him like it would be the only time. Slowly, you guided your hand over his jawline, running it up the side of his face and over the freshly shaved spot of where his hair started until your fingers found where it ended and tangled themselves in it. Nick pulled you closer against him, as the two of you fell into the unnatural desperation for each other that was quickly spreading like wildfire and threatening to burn you both to the ground if you'd let it. The kiss was deliciously carnal as you matched every thrust of his tongue with your own. He tasted like the beer he'd been sipping on since the start of the movie, and you could barely think about anything else other than wanting as much of him as you could get.

"So, does this mean yes? Do you think I can be the first man to make you cum as many times as possible, sweetheart?"

You smiled against his lips. "I guess it does."

"So, how does this work?" you asked?

With the rest of the guys downstairs fully engaged in the movie, Folio managed to sneak you upstairs to his room without making a scene. Once the door was locked, he removed his shirt and faced you. You were nervous. He could easily tell.

"We'll go slow. Start off simple. No getting naked or anything over the top. I want you to be comfortable and relaxed. I want your body to want to have an orgasm not feel like it has to."

The way Nick was taking care of you made the butterflies inside come to life. He was sweet and gentle yet dominant enough to trust that he would keep his word and give your body what it needed.

"Okay," you smiled, laughing lightly.

Folio moved in towards you, taking your face between his hands and kissing you slowly. You fell against him as his hands fell to the bottom of your shirt, where he lifted it and pulled it over your head, revealing your upper half to him, your breast covered by a black sports bra.

"You like normal underwear. That's a good thing," Folio grinned, leaning down to place small kisses on the skin of your neck.

Your body screamed from his touch, from the way his bare chest was almost flushed against yours. You wanted to cling to him, to rake your nails down his back and devour his lips, and as if he could feel your want, he bent his knees slightly and pulled you against him until you could feel his own excitement between your legs, making you gasp.

"Relax, sweetheart, I've got you. Let me love on you for a moment," Nick assured you, caressing the side of your face.

You nodded and closed your eyes the moment he attacked your neck hungrily, spilling kisses that seeped all the way to the middle of your pussy, creating a heat that you were unfamiliar with. It was a much stronger arousal than you were used to, and it made you feel wild and crazy. His hands roamed your body, leaving trails of fire behind, and when you broke apart, you were both breathing heavily.

"I think I'm falling hard for you, Y/N," Folio unapologetically admitted. "I know I am. You're all I think about, all I want. You consume me."

"I know. Me too. I just never believed I was good enough for you."

"I don't know why.”

"Nick, you could have any girl in the world.”

"Yeah, I know, but I want you. I've always wanted you; only you. To taste you, to fuck you, to wake up to your beautiful smile and make love to you in the mornings while you're still asleep. I've wanted you for a really long time. You've just never noticed."

Grabbing Nick's face, you pulled him down and kissed him long and hard. When you let go, resting your forehead against his, he smiled that infectious smile at you, making your insides flutter like crazy.

"What are you saying, Nick?"

"I'm saying you're mine. I'm saying just the thought of you being with another guy hurts me. Y/N, I want to be yours."

Grabbing Folio's shoulders, he encouraged you with small little words and phrases that made your panties wet, something no guy had ever done before.

"Nick," you said quietly, scared of sounding so inexperienced.

"What is it, little mouse?"

"Nick, my undies are wet. Like really wet."

Folio stopped mid kiss and looked at you.

"You've never felt that before?" he asked, puzzled.

"No, I have, just... well, not this much."

Folio smiled and moved you both over to his bed, where he sat down and had you in between his legs. You laid your hands on his shoulders.

"Can I look?" he asked, peering up at you.

You smirked. "Yeah, you can look."

Folio kissed your belly, dragging his lips across your skin once more. Tugging your leggings down, he grinned big when he saw your cotton panties with the daisies on them.

"These, I love these. They're adorable."

Glancing up at you, the corners of his lips curled, making your knees weak, as he continued his exploration of your lower half. Once your leggings were low enough, Folio tugged at the waistband of your panties, pulling them out far enough to peer down inside.

"Yeah, you're nice and wet for me," he muttered more to himself than to you, licking his lips.

He ran a finger through your soaked wet folds, humming in approval when you clenched down on his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin from the overwhelming sensation. But it was when he entered you, that you started to fall apart. Thrusting slowly in and out, Folio guided his finger inside you, penetrating your walls and forcing himself deeper into you.

"You're so warm and wet. Fuck me," Folio groaned, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, pushing your leggings down more to get a better angle of your are. "You like that, don't you?"

The air lodged in your throat, making it harder to breathe as a small gasp followed by a desperate whimper escaped your lips.

"Y-yes. Oh, god, Nick. It feels really good," you confessed.

Folio glanced up and held your gaze, planting his lips on the spot right below your abdomen, a spot where no man had gone before. The feeling of his hot breath, the way his lips glided across your skin and his hand pressed against your bare ass to hold you tightly steady against his mouth, had your breath shaking and your legs trembling.

"Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, honey.

Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging at it as your moans grew louder.

"Tell me baby, please," Nick begged you in a whisper, kissing your pubic bone. That was all it took.

"Make me cum, Nick. I wanna cum for you," you panted, biting your lip to hold back a moan.

With no warning, Nick slipped another finger inside you, making you cry out a desperate whine. He fucked you with only his fingers, starting slow, but quickly building speed, holding your gaze with an obsessive desire to watch the orgasm he was determined to give you ruin you.

"Deep breaths, beautiful."

You did as instructed, tipping your head back as choppy breathing and whines slipped out of you filling the room.

"Goddamn, look at you," Folio purred, "fucking yourself on my fingers like a perfect wet dream," dropping to his knees before you, kissing your thighs. "You have no idea how many times I've thought about this moment, Y/N, watching you get off on me, so desperate and needy."

Glancing down at your sex, he softly ran his fingers over the top of your clit.

"God, you're too beautiful," spreading your lips apart to look at your cunt glistening with the wetness from the way he was making you feel. "You smell so fucking delicious and I swear if I don't eat you right now, I literally might die," licking you with just the tip of his tongue.

Nick didn't give you enough time to process anything he'd just said before he pressed his mouth between your legs. Your sharp whimper turned onto a low moan as his tongue teased circles over your sensitive clit forcing you to buck your hips against his face. The intense heat building in your lower back and abdomen said you were really close.

"Fuck, you taste like heaven. So fucking good," Folio muttered, pulling back for a second to wipe his mouth.

He went back to work quickly, doing his best to lick your pussy clean as you let go of every thought as you grinded on him, no longer holding back anymore.

"Ride my hand harder, sweetheart. You like that, don't you?"

You nodded quickly.

"Don't stop, Nick," you panted.

"Ride it, baby girl, while I make your pretty pussy cum on my fingers."

"Nick," you whimpered, clutching and pulling around his fingers and tongue.

"That's it, feel me in you," he muttered, sucking gently while working your swollen bud with his tongue.

Curling his fingers inside your tight warmth, you moved with his touch until you couldn't hold back any longer. You let out a wrenching moan and finally fell apart on Folio's fingers, pressing your hand on the back of his head to ride your orgasm out on his face. The waves in you broke and your clenching became a languid flutter. Then you pulled Folio to his feet and your fingers were on his belt, undoing his pants as fast as you possibly could.

"I claimed you. I made you mine so now, assholes know they don't have a chance."

"That'll depend," you challenged him, high on a feeling you'd never felt before.

Folio's face fell. "What do you mean? On what?"

Grinning, you yanked his pants down and stared hard at the swollen length of his beautiful cock that was glistening at the tip with arousal just from you alone. You wanted him inside you, destroying you until all you knew was the shape of him. Taking his cock fully into your hand, Folio's head fell back.

"If you can make me cum again."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe," you smiled.

His face lit up with a smile, grabbing the bottom of your sports bra and pulling it off. The darkness of his pupils widened as he took in the sight of your breasts, brushing over the hard peaks of your nipples with the pads of his thumbs and pulling a gasp from your mouth. He pinched and tugged gently.

"You like that, love,"

“Mmmhmm," you replied, sighing.

Nothing in the world had ever felt so damn good. Folio wrapped his arms around, lifting you up until your breasts were practically in his face. Throwing your arms around his neck, you blushed, feeling awkward, but Folio just shook his head and kissed them. It was enough stimulation to pull you back into the moment with him. You wrapped your legs tightly around his torso, grinding onto him to satisfy the appetite for wanting to cum. You were starving to feel the overwhelming explosion in your body again and would let him do anything to you at this point just to make you feel it.

"Needy girl," Nick teased, pressing you hard against the available wall behind you.

Pinning you there tight, using every muscle in his body, he inserted two fingers in your mouth and told you to suck. You obeyed, but when he took those same fingers and shoved them up inside you, a small squeamish moan filled the room, forcing a buried feral growl out of Folio. Sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, he curled and thrusted his fingers through your soaked, raging hot pussy that was screaming for a second release and driving you absolutely mad.

"Oh god, Nick, baby, I need you," running your hands down his face and pulling him in for another kiss.

Folio chuckled.

"Ready to cum again for me so soon?.

You nodded, enthusiastically, biting your lip so you're did make too much noise.

"I know I should take it slow with you, Y/N, but I'm having a hard time doing it. I wanna tear you apart," he confessed unapologetically.

You grinned, running your fingers through his hair.

"You wanna fuck me like an animal?"

"Exactly, baby."

Looking Folio right in the eyes and slamming your lips on his again, you gave in to his wild animalistic behavior.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

With his chest heaving up and down, Folio didn’t waste a second. He carried you to his bed and laid you down, parting your legs and climbing in between them.

"How long has it been since these beautiful legs were thrown over a guy's shoulders?"

You blinked a few times, realizing the answer was never.

"With both the guys I dated, it was either simple missionary or me on top. So, never, I guess."

Folio's head fell.

"You're killing me, doll. But their loss is my gain," he sighed, getting on his knees before you. "I'm gonna bend you in half and fuck you hard and deep until your screaming. I'll take care of this pretty pussy for you, sweetheart and have you cumming all over me."

As a man of his word, Folio took your legs and placed them on his shoulders. Spitting into the palm of his hand he lathered his cock with it, mixing it with his arousal with slow gentle strokes. Lining up the tip of his cock with your swollen pussy, he penetrated your walls, forcing himself deeper and deeper with each emotionally attached thrust. You moaned a curse, gasping from the tightness you were feeling as your walls clenched around Nick, digging your nails into his biceps as he moved back and forth, dissolving into the pleasure of you. Shattered breaths and strangled noises escaped both of you as you lost yourselves in the feeling of each other. This was heaven. Your body trembled in his hands. The deep thrust that hit your cervix had you crying his name, beginning him not to stop.

With a hard grunt, Folio lowered your legs, bringing your bodies close together for the first time. Skin against skin, his muscles tensed from feeling you so soft and hot from the inside, and as he watched you start to unravel as he buried deeper into you, Folio knew then that he'd let no one else see you like this; no other guy would ever touch you this way again. The sounds he made; the deep sensual groans, the panting sighs, told you just how much he'd been longing for this moment with you. As if feeling his thoughts, you pulled him tighter into you, dragging you nails down the damp skin of his back, feeling how all the years of hard-core drumming had shaped and defined his body.

"Nick, look at me," you demanded.

He looked up at you from burying his face against your neck. Tracing his jawline with your fingertips, Folio smiled softly, grabbing your thigh and yanking it up higher around his waist and pushing inside you harder. You pushed his hair back out of his face, and he kissed your arm as you did so, following it with a hard, needy kiss on your lips.

"Y/N, tell me what you need. Tell me what I need to do."

"I need... mmm, f-fuck... can you...?"

"Anything, sugar," Nick promised, licking your lips and biting your lip as you opened your mouth to him.

His tongue wrestled with yours, tasting you, making you moan into his mouth.

"Oh god, I'm almost there, Nick. Make me cum. Fuck me hard until I do, please!" you whined, barely able to breathe.

Pulling out until just his tip was inside you, Folio shifted, repositioning you both so he could give you what you begged for. He found a slow, steady rhythm, thrusting roughly over and over, until all you could do was bury your face into his shoulder and bite down to muffle the screams. It wasn't long before his thrusts became unsteady. His breath was shaking, and his body trembling. You clenched around him, feeling the wave of your orgasm quickly approaching.

"Nick, don't stop, I'm almost there," you gasped.

With a few more loud moans, you clung to the man on top of you, his thrust suddenly more intense, and you cried out sharply as the very first orgasm you'd ever had from a man inside you, hit you so hard you, making you feel so fucking incredibly that you started to cry. Your toes curled against the sheets, and your back arched as you desperately clung to Nick, holding onto him so tight as he shuddered, cursed, then came undone himself, filling you so full of his seed that you could feel it seep out of you. Folio collapsed into you, completely wrecked, holding you the best he could. You caressed his back, kissing the side of his head and wrapping your arms around him in a protective manner. He sighed, placing his lips against your neck and kissing your damp skin.

"You don't know what that does to me, honey," he mumbled.

Nick's sweet pet name for you made you grin.

"Tell me."

He lifted his head as hair fell over his brow again.

"I feel owned. By you. And I like it. A lot."

His honesty killed you.

"I do own you, Nick Folio. And you own me. And you, sir, are a man of your word," giving him a slight smirk.

"Oh yeah? How so," he asked softly, planting kisses over your chest, taking your softened nipple into his mouth and sucking on it until a hard peak formed.

"Well, you said you could help me with cumming and you did. Twice. That's a record, baby," you giggled.

Nick's mouth curled into a soft smile.

"I love hearing you call me baby," he confessed. "And just so you know, I'm not stopping at two. I plan on making it happen at least one more time before bed."

"Oh, is that right?"

"Yup," he said, finally sliding out of you and getting up. "Come on, let's shower," reaching for your hands.

Giving them to him, he pulled you up and with the sheet wrapped around your body, you followed Folio to the bathroom. He closed the door and locked it and after turning on the water and waiting for it to get hot, he removed the sheet from around your body and pulled you into him.

“Are you up for another orgasm? I know you’ve got at least one more in you.”

“I’m assuming you have an idea of how to make that happen.”

Folio chuckled.

“I was already planning on fucking you in the shower. There’s nothing like steaming hot water to stimulate the senses as you cum," he smirked.

“And you would know?”

“I would. Shower sex is one of my kinks, just so you know. That and my drums. I have a really bad fetish to bend you over my snare.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you huffed a laugh.

“But for now, I’m gonna make you cum under the hot water,” he promised, taking your hands and guiding you into the shower.

And that's exactly what happened. For a third time, Folio had your legs shaking terribly, and after you cleaned up and got out, you collapsed into him and that’s how he knew you were spent. Once you were back in his room, he slipped one of his Harley shirts over your shivering body and helped you into his bed, where you curled up into him and fell fast asleep, his challenge completed.

#nick folio bad omens #nick folio #nick folio one shots #nick folio fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction

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dakusan · 1 day ago

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hi!! i'm the anon who requested the chan aftercare drabble and i'm back in my soft hours hehe.

i can't stop thinking about how chan would act when he's in love. he'd get you flowers(or if you don't like that, something that you actually do like) everytime you meet. he'd write the most sappiest love songs for you. he'd be down for whatever you want to do. you want to go to the new restaurant that just opened? he's already made the reservations. you want to just stay in to have a movie night? he's building you a pillow fort and letting you choose the movie. he'd be the most supportive boyfriend in the world.

i also think chan would live and breathe physical affection. he needs to be wrapped around you like a koala at all times because he loves having you in his arms. he'd also love pressing tiny kisses all over your face at the most random of times. forehead kisses are a must. and he would need to hold you to go to sleep.

jdvdjsvxbd i'm sorry for how long and rambly this got aahhh i just love this man so much.

(ps. can i be 💌anon?)

OMG YES 💌ANON YOU'RE SO WELCOME HERE—reporting for duty to cry, scream, bite drywall, and spiral lovingly over this man with you 🫠🫠🫠

You’re so real for this—because boyfriend!Chan is absolutely a koala-coded acts-of-service menace with the emotional range of a Shakespeare sonnet and the love language fluency of a multilingual poet. So here’s a mini breakdown of:

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

💘 HOW CHAN ACTS WHEN HE’S IN LOVE 💘

(a koala, a simp, a CEO of cuddles)

🐨 Clingy but make it angelic He doesn’t just like cuddling—he needs it like air. Wraps his whole body around you like a weighted blanket. Legs tangled. Nose buried in your neck. Gentle hums against your skin. If you shift away? Tiny groan. “Come back... I can’t sleep without you.”

🌼 Gift-giver with dangerous accuracy He’d remember the exact snack you once said was your favourite three months ago. If you don’t like flowers? He’s bringing you a vintage vinyl, a dog-shaped mug, a bag of your comfort candy. Bonus: handwritten note inside every single one.

🎶 Full-time simp, part-time lyricist Studio harddrive? 57 folders titled “[YourName]_demo.” Love songs, lo-fi lullabies, even dramatic orchestral pieces labeled “her laugh when I told that dumb joke.” You walk in while he’s mixing and he scrambles to close it like it’s NSFW.

🛏️ Domestic dream man New restaurant? He already booked it two weeks ago. Lazy night in? He’s baking those mini cookies you love, and asking which Studio Ghibli film to rewatch for the 14th time. Bonus: He cries every time at the same part and denies it.

🥺 Physical affection addict His hand on your thigh while driving, always. Constantly tracing lazy shapes on your back. Forehead kisses every time he passes you. Random “I love you”s whispered into your shoulder when he thinks you’re asleep.

🫀 100% emotionally literate boyfriend Knows your schedule, your stress tells, your comfort drink, and your “I’m fine” tone of voice. Asks how your heart feels that day. Will drop everything if you say you’re overwhelmed—“Let me carry some of that, yeah?”

💌 Texts you like a teenage girl in love Sends “good morning, my angel ☀️🩵” the second he wakes up. Random “thinking of you” voice notes while at rehearsal. Memes? Constant. Photos of his coffee with a caption like “wish u were the straw.” Ends every convo with “i love you more” and if you say it back? “Impossible.”

🛁 Domestic boyfriend CORE Washes your hair in the bath. Makes grocery runs fun with spontaneous dance battles in aisle six. Has a “you” drawer in his place: snacks, chargers, lip balm, extra fuzzy socks. “This is your home too, you know that, right?”

🥹 Worships you like it’s instinct Can’t stop complimenting you: “You’re so beautiful it’s unfair.” “How do you look that good just breathing?” Will literally thank you for existing.

🧸 Soft but filthy little menace Gives you puppy eyes while saying the nastiest things under his breath. “God, I love you” hits different when he says it with his lips ghosting over your collarbone. Would 1000% tease you by being affectionate in public—holding your face with both hands just to admire you while everyone watches.

🫀 Final boss of devotion Loves you like it’s holy. Like you’re starlight in human form. Like he waited lifetimes for this. Will never let you forget how much he adores you. Ever. “I know I say it all the time, but… I still don’t think you realize how much you mean to me.”

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

thank you so much for this ask—it was so warm, so soft, so full of love it made me want to lie on the floor and kick my feet in the air like a schoolgirl. 💗 your rambles are always welcome here—this space is as much yours as it is mine.

and YES. YOU ARE NOW OFFICIALLY 💌anon.

#ask dakusan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff

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jasper-unofficial · 2 days ago

Text

ARCHER'S (UNHINGED) LOVE OUT LOUD 2025 (DAY 1) HIGHLIGHTS

pond seems to have passed the curse of contacts onto a bunch of people, but that also means he is finally rid of the curse himself, so i am (unfortunately for everyone else) just happy i could see his beautiful brown eyes the whole time.

very simply, as a known queer bully, i want to say that heterosexuality has no space at LOL. it is a BL-CPs-focused event for a reason. if you want to have men and women thrusting at each other on stage, do it somewhere else.

that said, hilariously enough, because all the background dancers during pondphuwin's "bad girls like you" were separated into guy-girl pairs, what pondphuwin had going on with all the choreography and making eyes at each other felt even gayer than it would have otherwise in contrast, so thanks for that i guess.

speaking of which, all the lyrics should be changed to be gay too. this is the boys love event. boys are supposed to be loving boys today. (and tomorrow).

pond and phuwin said they chose "bad girls like you" to show that they are mature now, which just means @ jojo tichakorn, pack up your pondphuwin suitcase, we are finally ready to go on a second adventure.

phuwin kind of jokingly said that his dancing can't compare to a boyband member like pond, but pond really praised him for how well he did during the performance 🥹🫶 (<- this reminds me of phuwin saying during one interview that it means a lot to him when pond compliments him on his dancing specifically).

the second song pondphuwin sang was from the pov of a person who doesn't express their love with words too often, which is extremely lore-accurate to phuwin and extremely lore-inaccurate to pond kgjkldfgjklfdg do with that what you will.

forcebook committed what i can only describe as an act of phycological terrorism today (/lh).

their first song was about friends who are in love with each other but are too afraid to confess. (ok, literal childhood friends forcebook?) it was fully choreographed too with some adorable moves. then they had a little chat, which demonstrated a speedrun from mutual pining friends to an old married couple. only to go back to the theme of the song, asking each other if they ever felt that way, and both saying yes.

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL! the second song came around, a good while later in terms of the concert, and it was ABOUT FRIENDS WHO ARE IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER BUT TOO AFRAID TO CONFESS. AGAIN. but this one was sad and full of yearning. it also ended with the lyrics "the more you feel like a close friend, the less i feel like i have the right to say..." followed by *huge pause, full of yearning* "...that i love you." *more yearning* *last second absolute bodyslam of a hug* *fades to black*

it was truly insane, i felt like i was on crack cocaine after their second performance.

joongdunk and firstkhaotung both did what you could potentially consider a little nod at THK, with joongdunk performing 'baby tee' in, indeed, baby tees (or crop tops, if you will, shout out style) and firstkhaotung performing a rock song, which just kind of gives THK.

speaking of firstkhaotung, there was this one kind of silly song about proposals with a couple of people, including them, and at one point first proposed to khaotung with a comically large ring. highlight of the day.

going back to joong, he got really emotional during the "goodbye" while thanking the fans and i'm pretty sure almost cried 🥺🤏

our only actual tears of the day, though, were jimmy's after jimmysea sang a break-up song, which clearly touched him 🥺

perthsanta were really sweet and it was very apparent they care about each other a lot throughout. during the "greetings", perth let santa talk during the entirety of perthsanta's allocated time because LOL is a new experience for santa. both songs they chose were rock songs, clearly because perth really loves rock. santa got a dance break and perth got a guitar solo moment during their first song. and perth got quite emotional during the "goodbye"!

on a crazier note, perth called santa "khun noo" (approx. young master) and santa called perth "daddy". live with this information.

earthmix had a domestic through song on stage, but worry not - they were fine right after and their second song was very sweet dflkgjdfkgjkfldg

them almost kissing at the end of the second song was crazy btw. i felt like i was intruding on a moment.

they are letting earth be silly again btw! and i love it! he is adorable.

speaking of silly, williamest's first performance was very "you are tripping on lsd", but in like a fun way.

winnysatang whipped their lavawave out early, because their first song was very royalty-coded.

gemfourth held hands and also sang a song that was a combination of their two solo songs, which i think was really cute.

fourth's new hairstyle looks fucking amazing btw!

we had a surprise appearance by aou my beloved!!! (worry not, next year he will be on the same stage but the whole time and with his partner, i am sure of it). JASP✦ER performed 'TAKE IT OFF' and then we had a JASP✦ER x LYKN collab which was incredible!!

and oh yeah, LYKN performed as guests!!

'SADISTIC' was performed by a bunch of people: interestingly enough, just pond and santa (no joong), phuwin, perth, and dunk nonetheless, as well as gemini, fourth, sea, force, and est. they did not dance, in fact all of them spent the entire performance flying around on harnesses and doing occasional backflips. i am personally starting a conspiracy theory that they were all going to dance, but then either ran out of time or some of the... less dance-inclined, let's say, participants couldn't nail the choreo. thus, everyone was sent flying instead.

in general, love that they expanded the theme to literally anything connected with the sky, so we got a lot of space-themed and different sky-themed motifs (day, evening, night, etc.), it was really cute!

both the "rocksphere" performances were iconic: the lines up of gem/prem/william/perth/pond/phuwin and sea/fourth/gem/pond/phuwin are both pristine, gem on the drums was awesome, perth leaning on william while playing the guitar was incredible, loooove the pink strap on pond's bass, AND the fact that they covered "secret" by perth warms my heart (it is an underrated bop).

altersphere was VERY dad rock, i am fascinated by dad rock in thai because i've literally never heard it in any other language but my mother tongue before - force/joong/first/mix/jimmy nailed it btw.

overall, i really enjoyed myself! i stick to my complaints about the heterosexuality of the background dancers, however, and urge everyone to remember this is very much a BL-based event. i am paying money out of my pocket to see boys love on stage (musical edition) and absolutely nothing else.

#love out loud 2025 #archer speaks #long post

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treatbuckywkisses · 2 days ago

Text

aww ur favorite so far im even more excited to dive in now😭

BUCKYS POV MY BABY OMG

The opening scene as a fucking fight I'm ill:(

Omg?????? The opening of the loop?????? Stop by now I'm just imagining like him hearing her cinematic scream when he fades out IM GONNA BE SICK.

Bucky grits his teeth and tries blocking the whole thing from his mind. His thoughts keep returning to your scream, instead, which might be worse. FUCK I DIDN'T WANT TO BE RIGHT IM SO SAD NOW SHUTUP

Today, his run takes Bucky eight minutes longer than average, but he can wholeheartedly blame that on his almost-incident with the car. His thoughts are still stuck on what he remembers from the dream, spinning around and around in a loop until the elevator dings and he has to shake himself because he’s already here. Hehehe in a loop

Bucky can’t help but smile a little at the smugness in your voice. No matter what that terrible voice at the back of his mind is still whispering, you’re fine. It was all a strange, bad dream; end of story. OH HE WAS WORRIED ABOUT HER IM SO VIOLENTLY UNWELL

It’s the one thing he gets. oh baby:(

It’s then that he realizes the odd thing about you was that it almost, unexplicably, looked like relief. Full body chill my nipples are hard you're insane

All of his thoughts and he's thinking something must be wrong with HIM for this I need to hold him so badly :(

You’re so pretty. It’s not making the confusion boiling inside of him any easier to deal with. I'm just gonna go cry now 😭

I thought you’d be there, he texts the number that never responds. He waits for a minute, two minutes, but of course there’s no answer. Whooooo is he texting ✋🏻

But when Sam calls, "We need to get moving," Bucky already knows, deep down, how this is going to end. His heart is beating frantically as the situation stays out of control, even though this should be easy. He’s seen this before. What is he missing? STOP IT NIKA I CAJT HANDLE THIS ANYMORE WHY ARE YOU PUTTING MY BABY THROUGH THIS

It’s a small, coal black ring that he’s seen many times before, and his stomach churns again as his hand closes around it so tightly it must leave an imprint. Of course, there are no coincidences in his life. I'm speechless 😶 in shambles rn you have no mercy

Despite it all, his heart cracks a little more. "What?"OHMYFUCKUNGGOD YOURE JOKING IM SO UNWELL YOU ARE OSNSGAHBSLSNSHHA IMAGINE ME RIPPING OUT ALL MY HAIR AND SCREECHING SO INSANELY

I'm scared, I feel so alone, I don't want to die ........what a punch in my heart

He’s already half-turning when you say it, already pulling the trigger as the words leave your mouth, moving on muscle memory alone at this point. And you still don’t notice. GOD THEY ARE MADE FOR EACH OTHER I AM DOWN IM INJURED GET A MEDIC I CAN'T TAKE IT

It takes all of his might not to lose himself completely in the fight to come, not to unleash his full serum-powered strength on a couple of faceless fanatics who would be fine again in a couple of minutes, anyway, depending on how long he’ll make it today. Still, there’s a certain mindlessness to it as he repeats his own steps, ribs cracking and wrists twisting as he strikes again and again and again. this is absolutely freaking criminal actually how dare you.

He presses both of his hands to his heart to feel it beat against his palm, more steady than his thoughts and still there. He’s still there. GIVE HIM A BREAK DAMMIT MY POOR BABY JUST NEEDS TO BE HELD AND IT NEEDS TO BE SATURDAY FOR FUCKS SAKE

He knows that voice. He knows it just as well as his own, just as well as the one hiding inside some dark corner of his mind, and it shouldn’t sound like that anymore. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN NIKA.

Bucky huffs. "I heal fast, I’m not invincible." WITTY BABY HES STILL IN THERE THATS MY BABY !!!!!!!!!!! LET HIM OUT

You look at him, almost reaching out but never quite touching, your eyes gleaming green. All I can think about is when they held hands and I'm sick to y stomach🥺🥲

Them talking to each other through the house im so emotional 😭

So this was INSANE??????????????? I feel like I got inside knowledge but I know NOTHING at the same time😭 so extremely thankful for Bucky's pov but feeling sooo terrible for my baby😭😭😭 the pain he's feeling and the confusion he's going through this is so cinematic and theatrical I'm so obsessed with this and you I love you I'm begging for something good to happen 😔

time after time [7]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 11.1k

chapter warnings: self-deprecation, negative self-talk and canon-typical violence. this one's heavy on the angst. it's also my favourite so far. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: i return with a semblance of a posting schedule and a chapter that i'm well aware is absolutely insane. but that was always gonna be the case. enjoy my loves 💚

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

seven: spellbound

The slamming door made you flinch awake from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch, still wearing your extravagant jumpsuit. Bucky’s hands were clenched into fists, the frown on his face familiar and deep. He’d lost his tie somewhere on the way back.

"You alright?" you mumbled, getting up on one elbow.

He ignored you, facing Sam, who had his hands folded in his lap, back still hunched forward in thought or worry.

"You alright?" Sam repeated.

Bucky gave a short nod. "Can I talk to you?"

"Talk."

He did look at you, then, his gaze slowly and irritably dripping down your body. "I meant alone," he said pointedly.

"This is my home," you protested, sitting up properly.

"You’re a squatter."

"What do you want to talk about?" Sam interjected before you could snap back.

Bucky crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I want her out."

Your mouth dropped open. "What the fuck?"

"Tonight wasn’t ideal, I’ll give you that," Sam said tiredly. "But we got what we went in for and we didn’t cast any unwanted suspicion."

"Didn’t we?" Bucky said. "Because I feel like some of us remember tonight differently."

People murmuring in confusion as you blinked in and out of existence, knowing that something was off, even though they couldn’t put a finger on it. Agitated comm chatter throughout the corridors.

"Excuse me for saving your ass," you said hotly. Maybe it would have had the intended effect if you’d properly wiped the dried blood from your face.

"I didn’t ask you to do that," he pressed out.

"If it pissed you off so much, I’ll just let you get shot next time, then, see how that feels."

"Okay, I think we can all just calm down and continue this conversation tomorrow," Sam boomed.

Bucky gritted his teeth and turned his back on you, but you jumped up from the couch, your anger giving you enough energy to follow him to the stairs.

"No! He’s having a go at me for no reason at all and I would like to hear the rest of it. Tell me where I made a single fucking mistake. Because I can tell you when you did."

"I am sick of you pretending to fix stuff—"

"Pretending?!"

"Guys—" Sam called from the living room.

"—when we don’t even know what it is you’re changing!"

"How about you actually just trust me for once, like you said you would?"

"I said I trust Sam’s decision to take you on, and that I trusted Steve’s judgment. There’s a difference."

You threw up your hands. "You wanna know what I changed? Your fucking arm almost got both of us caught, tin man, that’s what I changed."

"Do you know what it feels like," Bucky said, voice shaking with barely restrained rage, "when people tell you things about yourself that you don’t remember choosing to do?"

"Must be nice to get to forget things."

Your fingers twitched at the same time as his, metal and flesh curling like you both wanted to clutch at something you couldn’t reach. In another universe, he might have turned on you, slammed you into the wall with his hand around your neck.

Do it, then.

But no. In this one, he just went very, very still. Like he’d simply turned to stone under your gaze.

"Stay out of my fucking head," he pressed out under his breath, so low you barely caught it at all.

"I have no interest in your fucking head," you said, rage and frustration blazing in your eyes. "You want me to be honest with you? Fine. I’m sorry about what happened to you and I get why my powers are touchy for you because of it, but you gotta stop telling yourself that I’m holding out on purpose or that I have any control over anyone but myself when I go back. I didn’t ask for this shit, so get off my damn back."

"Who did, then?"

You stumbled a half-step backwards involuntarily. "What?"

Bucky’s jaw was set so tight his teeth audibly ground. "How did you get your powers?"

You blinked several times, your nails digging into your palms again. "I don’t know."

He huffed, turning away with a shake of his head. "You gotta be shitting me."

"I don’t know, okay? I don’t remember. I have to remember every single reset I’ve ever made, but I don’t know when it started, or how, or why. It’s just always been a part of me."

"Then why don’t you try to find out?"

"Oh, because you’ve got me all figured out, haven’t you? Clearly, I have no interest in understanding the thing that’s ruined my fucking life. I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything I could think of, and none of it’s done me any good."

"And you’re just fine with that, and so we’re supposed to be fine with it as well. Not knowing what the extent of your powers is, or why you got them in the first place. Sounds like a great idea."

"It was enough for Steve." You laughed mirthlessly. "He told me once that we would’ve gotten along, can you imagine that?"

"Well, maybe he was wrong about both of us, then, but why don’t you do your thing and we can ask him ourselves."

"Because for the millionth time, it doesn’t work like that! Don’t you think I’d like that, too? To go back and undo all of this damage that happened over the past couple of years? But I can’t, I can’t do it, I can’t change anything that’s farther back than eleven fucking minutes, and that was when I still had a family."

The word fell apart on the way out of your mouth, breaking into pieces just like the actual thing. You pressed your shaking palms against your eyes.

"So. I’m sorry, Barnes, that I’m not good enough for anything like that. I know that. I know that my powers are essentially useless, and I don’t need you to remind me all the time, okay. I’m already very aware."

* * * * *

Darkness.

Darkness and pain.

The sound of dripping, ticking, tilting.

Something like a bright light.

And then—

* * *

Bucky comes to in the middle of the crossing between Lexington and East 55th, right as he’s about to turn his back on the brownstone front of the Central Synagogue. There is a strange itch on his left arm that almost feels human.

He blinks, disoriented, unsure how he got here. The last thing he remembers is—

A car honks and he staggers to the sidewalk, head still pounding, and his good hand flies to the side of it, as if checking for blood.

He doesn’t find any.

Another nightmare, then. Disturbingly vivid, though. He’s concerned that his only memory of getting up and going on his usual run has the tinge of the dream to it, like he hasn’t actually woken up yet.

And neither the memory nor the nightmare carries the usual haze.

Bucky grits his teeth and tries blocking the whole thing from his mind. His thoughts keep returning to your scream, instead, which might be worse.

He notices he keeps rereading the sign in the window in front of him, and when he realizes that it’s yet another fucking Starbucks, he’s about to cut his route short and just go home, like there’s something there that could fix this bad feeling curdling in his stomach.

Instead, he takes a few shallow breaths, pulls his cap more deeply into his face, and then he continues.

When he was younger, he took up running to keep him quick on his feet during a fight. These days, he probably doesn’t have to keep on it quite so regularly, but there’s something about the rhythmic, constant movement that usually does help clear his mind.

Damn, he hates when his shrink is right.

Maybe a shower will help.

It does, a little, because he turns the hot water to cold several times until he thinks, of course he’s awake. It seems so obvious now.

This is real.

The water turns off with that little squeaking sound that he keeps forgetting to fix. He doubts that anyone but him can even hear it; one of the uncountable inconveniences of enhanced senses is the ability to find some of the tiniest noises insufferable.

He shrugs a new shirt on and hangs his towel up on the only free hook, grabbing a fresh cloth from the closet. There’s not many left; neither of you has gotten around to doing laundry post-mission yet.

His heart is still beating a little harder than usual when he cracks open the door to the gym, peering inside right when Sam hits the mat.

"Geez, what’s gotten into you?"

You shrug and roll your shoulders, pulling him back to his feet. "I’ll dignify that with an answer when I see you kick above your waistline, Sammy."

He watches the two of you circle around each other for a moment longer. There’s a grace to your movements as your eyes stay focused on Sam, calm and unwavering, like you’re anticipating the right moment to pounce on him. It’s mesmerizing.

Then again, you usually have that effect on him.

Bucky quietly slips away when you’re about to call it a day. Normally, he’d probably sit in your company to dry off his prosthetic, listening to your heartbeat return to normal levels and then watch you trot off to the showers with that little indignant shake of your head. In fact, there’s a significant part of him that wants to do just that; maybe he’ll catch a glance of that annoyed glimmer in your eyes that seems to be reserved solely for him.

It’s the one thing he gets.

He tries not to read too much into the fact that Sam gets things like an affectionate little suffix to his name when you tease him, even though that fact haunts him more than he’d care to admit. You probably don’t even notice you’re doing it, but it’s because you actually like Sam. Have learned to care about him over the past few months. And why wouldn’t you?

Bucky, on the other hand, is just Barnes more often than not. Which is fine; he’s used to it by now.

He opens the door to his room and a waft of stiff air hits him, familiar and suffocating all at once. For the first couple of months, he hesitated to even call it his room, even though he always picked the same one when it was easier than traveling all the way back to Brooklyn; the one upstairs with the large corner windows facing east and south.

It still doesn’t feel much like his out of anything other than habit. Blank, off-white walls, a half empty dresser, bed always made, the only source of disorder a couple of cat toys cluttered in the far corner. The only thing that reminds him of home is stowed in the drawer next to his bed.

He doesn’t open it now, instead reaching for the journal on the bedside table, flicking through until he reaches the latest entry.

But it’s strange.

Not the content itself, but the fact that Bucky could’ve sworn that he’d written it yesterday. He stares at it for a moment, flips the page over and back again, frowns slightly.

This nightmare is truly fucking with his head if he wasn’t even in a clear enough space of mind to jot down a couple of notes before his run.

He does it now, in as few words as he’s comfortable with, because something about all of this still doesn’t sit right with him but he can’t quite put his finger on it yet.

Out of some deep, dark instinct, his hand slips underneath his pillow, and he hates that his heart beats a little more calmly when he feels the cool metal of his gun right where he left it, where he always leaves it.

This is real.

Something nudges his side softly and when he turns, Alpine is nuzzling her head into the crook of his arm, mewling discontentedly. The sound melts a little more of his trepidation away.

"What’s wrong, sweetie?" he says with a quiet smile.

The cat observes him unblinkingly as he puts his journal down again and reaches out to pet her head, but she jumps off the bed before he can make contact, looking back at him in anticipation and, he’s pretty sure, annoyance.

She’s hungry, then.

Bucky sighs and follows her out of the room only for you to almost barrel into him. You’re sweaty and breathless, and he refuses to notice the way your training gear sticks to your body. In fact, he refuses to look anywhere but your face.

There’s an odd look on it, just as odd as the tone of your voice when you gasp, "Bucky!"

"Y/N!" he says, mimicking it. Adrenaline is still coursing through you, your heart beating so erratically he can almost feel it pulsating in his own skin. "What’s wrong with you?"

"Nothing," you answer quickly enough for him to know something is definitely wrong. "You look … normal."

"Thanks," he says dryly. "You don’t."

The nervous twitch of your ear is back, the soft tapping of your fingers against your thigh. At least he’s seen you like this enough times to know how to deal with it.

"You remember what showering is, right?" A tilt of the head, a hint of a scoff in his tone; you respond best to him pretending not to give a damn, and so he’s gotten quite good at it.

Predictably, your shoulders lose a little of their tension, even though your eyes don’t. "Fuck you, Barnes."

Really; he’s used to it by now.

Alpine meows again, like a reminder not to get hung up on things he has no control over, and it finally lets him look away from you. That’s always the hardest part, somehow, even though that makes him feel ridiculous.

Downstairs, he can’t keep his mind from wandering as he scrapes the contents of a tin can into Alpine’s bowl only for her to fall asleep in a spot of sunlight on the kitchen floor.

It’s then that he realizes the odd thing about you was that it almost, unexplicably, looked like relief.

* * *

Bucky’s been on enough missions with you and Sam by now to know you both use mindless chatter to calm yourselves in tense situations, and so he doesn’t mind forming the rear. Even if he doesn’t listen in on every word, he can easily tell if something about your situation changes while he’s covering your six.

There’s at least two guards patroling the grounds, according to Sam’s funny little computer bracelet, and so it’s no surprise that he asks Bucky to keep an eye on them while the two of you head up to find the entrance to the lab. You keep your hands raised halfway up, but Bucky can tell by your empty gaze that you’re tired. His grip on his gun tightens.

He nods to Sam once he’s in position, perched up on the roof just out of sight from any unsuspecting anarchists. Then, he watches you slip through the entrance of the barn-like building and lets out a deep, slow breath.

It’s been a weird day.

That gnawing feeling of déjà-vu has settled deep into his bones, like a pesky thought he can’t quite let go of. This, though? He can manage this.

The strange truth is—and frankly, this is something he’s looking forward to never disclosing to his therapist—that being on a mission like this one, having a specific set of tasks he can concentrate on, being keenly aware of all his surroundings … it has a calming effect on his brain. He’s not sure what to make of that fact, but it’s true.

He’s sick of the fighting, but he can’t let go of it, either.

Instead, he squints at the two white dots in the distance meeting on the other side of the block, gesturing for a while, and then slowly creeping closer.

Without taking his eyes off his targets, he tunes into your conversation again.

"—only scream when there’s good reason."

"I don’t wanna interrupt," Bucky murmurs, fiercely ignoring the untimely lurch his heart makes, "but they’re heading your way now, so get a move on."

"You’re no fun, Bucky."

He would love to roll his eyes, but he’s a professional. That’s also why he swallows his remark when you make a comment about your resets; it not like it’s surprising, anyway. You haven’t been sleeping well these past couple of weeks. Breakfasts have been particularly grumpy affairs since Marylebone.

The guards creep closer, and even though their faces are covered by the white masks, Bucky can tell they’re bored. Shoulders slumping, grip on their weapons loose, boots shuffling on the gravel. One of them has a pack of cards in her breast pocket.

If either of them were smart enough to look up, they’d spot him within a second. But since nothing unusual has ever happened during their shifts, it doesn’t even occur to them to do so.

Look at them, a voice inside him says. They don’t notice anything, do they?

Bucky’s jaw clenches, his finger tightening on the trigger. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"Reminds me of old times," Sam says.

"Can’t say that, bud," Bucky murmurs. The guards are only a couple of yards away now. "Twenty seconds."

Take them out now.

"—makes Barnes cranky."

"You forget he’s always cranky."

This is what he’s good at, what he’s always been good at. Being the lookout. The Howlies’ best sharpshooter. His aim is perfect. His mind is clear.

They might be dangerous.

He swallows.

One of the guards trips over his own feet, almost losing the rifle he’s holding. They’re both amateurs; it’s clear from their posture, the way their jackets aren’t quite crisply ironed, even the way they walk. Neither of them pose any real threat.

Still, the voice says. Why not make sure?

It’s easy, so easy, to aim at the center of their white jackets. To imagine them soaking red on the ground while he barely moves more than a single finger. Just a flash of a second.

So easy.

"Any time, Buck."

Breathe out.

The taller one gets a bullet in her right shoulder, just underneath the joint, missing her subclavian artery; the shorter one gets hit in the kneepit as he turns, his rifle skittering away as he falls, safety still engaged. Clean and quick.

With one last glance around, Bucky jumps to the ground right as the explosion sounds inside. No one is coming. Yet.

He knocks the guards out with two quick blows to their temples. Their wounds aren’t bad, of course; just enough to keep them out of the way and hurt a bunch later.

Сбой.

No, but it’s all too simple. Too obvious. This, he remembers from his nightmare as well; the lab with the hidden staircase, the metallic stench coming from the leaking containers, the data stick and then …

Another fight.

The voice leaves him alone when there’s no time to think, and so Bucky trusts his instincts for this one. It’s despicable, really, how much the rush of adrenaline makes his blood boil in the best possible way, blocking out all other thought, leaving nothing but the cacophony of noises and the flurry of movement surrounding him.

This is what he was made for.

His breath hitches when a memory catches him, and he steps out of the way of a shot aimed for his head like it was in the dream, just in case.

It fires into thin air, instead.

The fact that it does fire, exactly like he remembers, takes him a fraction of a second to process.

Talk of a lucky coincidence, he thinks, knocking another agent out cold. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"We better get moving," Sam shouts, and Bucky nods.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you throwing another punch; you barely seem to have broken a sweat.

There’s something off about the way you move. It seems controlled, almost rehearsed in a way; as if your body knows exactly where to land your next attack without even thinking about it.

A little too perfect.

There’s a beat before you turn around to face him, and your eyes widen at the same time as Sam’s voice explodes in his ear, "Bucky!"

There’s a flash of pain and a burst of green light, and then he comes to in the middle of the crossing between Lexington and East 55th, and it’s like you’re still shouting his name, the sound echoing through his mind so clear and sharp it’s like you’re standing right behind him.

There’s something wrong with him.

Something wrong with his brain, something terribly wrong, because this—

He stumbles to the sidewalk when the same car as yesterday honks at him, comes to a halt next to the same street lamp, sweat beading on his temples in the exact same way while his bad arm itches and his head aches.

Bucky’s hand flies to his chest, pressing, feeling his heart beat erratically. There aren’t any holes. No broken ribs, no scars he doesn’t already know, every new trace of violence vanished like it had never brushed his skin.

Even though he just got shot.

Again.

He’s drawing attention now; he can feel the stares in his neck. It’s not going to take long for someone to recognize his face as well.

So he forces his breaths to slow, straightening his shoulders and tilting his head in the most unassuming way he’s taught himself. After a while, his thoughts start to clear.

There’s something wrong with his timeline. You told him once that going back felt a little like the moment before freefalling, and the bile in his mouth might just be proof for that hypothesis.

But how on earth would he have gone back, and why?

Maybe it’s his perception of time that’s warped.

He remembers the stories about people seeing their whole lives flash before their eyes before they die; and he remembers almost dying.

This feels like much more than a flash, though, and he’s not quite dead yet. This is real.

Right?

"This is impossible," he whispers.

His reflection in the Starbucks window does the same.

* * *

One more, he thinks as the shower washes away the cold sweat sticking to his skin. He’ll give this one more try before accepting that he’s either finally losing his marbles or that there’s something else going on.

His life’s been an assembly of unexplainable things. Twice might still be a coincidence.

Third time’s a pattern.

The shower squeaks off and he steps out in a cloud of steam, the cold tiles underneath his feet grounding, in a way. He wipes a streak of condensation off the mirror, staring at his own face for a moment, trying to find any signs of his mind starting to crack. His hair is long enough to stick to his forehead again, eyes tired as always.

Everything feels the same.

No one’s done laundry.

It’s like his feet automatically follow the same path they’d gone yesterday, turning left, waiting for him to push the door open, hesitating.

"What’s gotten into you?" Sam asks you again, and you shrug, again, neither of you noticing that you’re all retracing steps you’ve taken before.

Bucky thinks about the journal on his bedside table, and his fingers curl more tightly around the rag in his hand because he already knows, he knows it’s going to be incomplete again. The heavy feeling in his stomach settles as he sits down on the wooden bench, the sun hitting his arm at the exact same angle again. For a moment, golden spots dance around the room before he twists his torso just enough to make them disappear again.

He thinks about the journal, and he doesn’t want to have to look at it quite yet.

You flop down on the mat when Sam calls it a day, and Bucky nods back at him as he heads outside, rubbing a spot between his shoulderblades. Your face is still tense, even with your eyes closed, your heartbeat fast enough to make him tilt his head.

You’re so pretty. It’s not making the confusion boiling inside of him any easier to deal with.

The words are at the tip of his tongue without him having to think about them.

"You look like shit."

You blink at him in a peculiar way, like you’re just waking up from a dream yourself, and you let out a long, shaking breath.

"Oh, fuck you, Barnes."

It’s so normal for you to say it like that it almost puts him at ease. Almost.

"I think you nearly broke his nose, there." He presses the rag into another one of the crevices in his arm.

You hum noncommitantly. "Didn’t, though."

You haven’t put your rings back on, but your knuckles look fine, so you’ve probably managed to not do it in one try as well. Bucky’s gaze wanders up your arms again, slowly; your heart hasn’t calmed yet, and you continue to stare at the ceiling like you’re waiting for something.

Probably his leave, he realizes, standing up. He’s had his indulgence. "Take the towel on the right," he tells you again. "I already used the other one."

He doesn’t miss the shaky little exhale you let out as he turns his back on you, and his left fist clenches involuntarily.

One more.

He’s probably just going to have to take his mind off it all.

The air outside is sticky with heat; like the skies are supposed to break open but refuse to. Even when he squints, he can’t make out a single cloud in all that endless blue.

He keeps his head down even as his eyes scan his surroundings. It’s a little like being part of a movie he’s seen before.

There’s the woman with the two dogs, one of them barking at a garbage truck across the street. The banker on a phone call with his pregnant fiancée. The tired violin player busking near the subway station, playing the same song he did yesterday, something Bucky recognizes but still can’t name.

Everything is exactly the same.

He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets to fish for his ticket, joining the other people lining up to board the subway, their faces too familiar to distract him. He keeps expecting one of them to break, to call him out on doubling back every day, but none of them do. They don’t seem to notice.

He almost hesitates before he knocks on Sam’s door that afternoon, but the knot in his stomach hasn’t loosened. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

I thought you’d be there, he texts the number that never responds. He waits for a minute, two minutes, but of course there’s no answer.

There never is.

Just another thing to take his mind off of. Let his mind settle on something concrete that’s right in front of him. That he has complete control over.

Besides, maybe there’s something he’s supposed to get right here.

The voice at the back of his mind hums dangerously, and he ignores it, punching out the agent in front of him and then whipping his head around to find you already staring at him with your eyes wide and for a moment, the world freezes because you look at him like … well, fuck.

Like he’s usually looking at you.

Desperate.

It’s his last thought before something right next to him explodes and there is nothing but pain.

And then he comes to in the middle of the crossing between Lexington and East 55th, and this time, this third time, he feels like he’s earned the right to be considerably less calm about the whole thing.

The car honks and the people stare and Bucky throws up on the sidewalk next to Starbucks because the world is still hung up on Friday and he’s died three days in a row. When he rummages through the pockets of his slacks for a tissue, his hand grazes something cool.

He really should’ve known better from the start.

* * *

He needs to talk to you.

He thinks it when he puts the ring back into his pocket and he’s still thinking it when he bursts into the Tower, doors slamming loud enough to startle Alpine awake from her spot on the couch. He needs to talk to you, and you’re going to figure this out together, because that’s what you do. It’s what you always do.

But she’s got time powers.

He presses his lips together tightly as he jogs up the stairs two at a time, ignoring the thought. Then again, there’s the piece of soap on the tiles next to the sink that he’s picked up three days in a row now, and his hand reaches for the same towel automatically, and how the hell does one get stuck in a time loop in the first place?

Месть.

Bucky turns the shower off so resolutely part of it dents. No, he thinks. If you knew, you’d get him out of this. He knows that you wouldn’t wish him harm.

Then how?

"You’re dead," he says out loud, staring at his own steamed up reflection. "You’re not real."

Neither of us is.

His heart beating out of his chest would disagree.

When he sits down next to you today, he watches you apprehensively. You still ignore him, but it seems to come so natural to you. As if all of this is normal, as if you don’t even notice something is wrong, even though you have to, right, you have to.

"You look like shit," he says out loud, but he feels like he’s still talking to himself.

Fuck you, Barnes.

And then it happens again.

Clearly, he’s losing his mind.

It’s the only explanation that’s left. He’s already been to hell and back and now he’s going mad, he’s finally going mad, he’s going insane—

No, you’re not.

His own heartbeat sounds so loud in his ears as the shower screeches off and something settles in his stomach like a stone, something as sure and familiar and uncomfortable as that voice that’s been getting louder each day.

You’re as clear-headed as you’ve ever been.

Which means that once again, someone or something else is trying to mess with his head, only this time, it’s already been screwed with enough for him to tell.

Here’s the thing about all this that keeps rubbing him the wrong way, keeps scratching at the very back of his mind just like the parts of him he’d rather keep buried for the rest of his days: If you truly don’t know this is happening, then why are you the only one doing something different every time?

Bucky’s spent the better part of his life honing in his perception skills, and he’s seen everyone else behave in the precise same manner four, five, six days in a row, but you … you’ll leave a room a few minutes earlier than the day before, or order a different lunch, or wear a different shirt.

It’s not easy to miss in the slightest and it makes him doubt you’re as clueless to this as you pretend to be.

Which leaves him with the version of events he hates the most, and which is therefore the most likely: If you do know this is happening, then why do you keep up this charade? Is it because you’re responsible for all this somehow? And if you are, is it on purpose?

That’s too many ifs for his liking. It all makes him think back to the Westview Anomaly, so he reads up on it.

And then he decides that he’d rather know whether the sinking feeling in his gut is right.

You’re staring up at the ceiling like you want to pretend he’s not even there, and his good hand is shaking too much to be of much use in drying the arm.

"Take the towel on the left," he makes himself say. "I already used the other one."

There’s a shuffling as you sit up, but he can’t bear to turn around. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said use the one on the left, because I took the other towel," he repeats.

"Right," you say, and then he can hear your rings clink against each other as you collect them from their dish.

Maybe he should return the one he found in his pocket. Maybe you just haven’t realized it’s missing yet, because this is your first time living through this day and you don’t know to ask for inconsistencies yet.

You shuffle towards the showers, and he’s startled to realize how relieved he feels. Strange, really, to put that much weight on a towel; but at least it means you don’t—

"Hey, Bucky," you say, hesitating at the door, and his stomach drops a little. "What day’s today?"

"Friday," he answers, his voice surprisingly level. "Why." It’s not really a question.

"No reason," you say, and the door clicks shut behind you. The sound seems to echo in the empty gym.

"Something weird is happening," he tells Sam as soon as he can hear him approach the kitchen.

He hates that he’s doing this, but it’s not like there’s a roster of people he could talk to. His shrink would probably just prescribe him some pills that won’t work again—that is, if Bucky could get a hold of him on a national holiday in the first place—, and even though Sam is going to laugh in his face about this whole thing, he at least has to try. Right?

"You sound like Y/N," Sam says, pouring himself a bowl of cornflakes.

Bucky grimaces, which earns him a concerned head tilt. Sometimes, Sam reminds him of all the best parts of Steve, and he doesn’t know whether that makes him calmer or furious.

"Talk to me, Buck."

He stares at the milk carton like it’s holding the solution to his problem. "I think she’s doing something to me."

Sam snorts. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

He says it so lightly, almost jovially, and Bucky’s nails dig so hard into his palms one hand draws blood. "You know?" he says tonelessly.

"Are you kidding me?" Like he’s tickled. Like he’s been in on the joke for a while. "You two have been doing this dance for months."

Despite it all, his heart cracks a little more. "What?"

Sam hesitates for a moment before squinting at him. "We’re not talking about the same thing, are we?"

And Bucky supposes they’re not, they’re really not, so he says, "Today should be Tuesday."

A frown. "What do you mean?"

"What day is it?"

"Friday," Sam says.

"Wrong," Bucky tells him. "Yesterday was Friday. And so was the day before, and the one before."

He finally puts his bowl down on the counter. "Are you having a stroke?"

"Sam, listen to me. Today keeps repeating."

He frowns. "You mean like a time loop? Like you’re in Groundhog Day?"

"I don’t know what that is." A fun little name for his personal Gehinnom.

Just deserts, don’t you think?

"Have you talked to Y/N about this?" Sam asks. "I mean, that’s kind of her thing. I’m sure whatever this is, she can help you out." He still sounds a little incredulous, but he knows Bucky well enough to recognize when he’s not joking.

He’s never felt less like joking.

"There’s also this." He pulls out the ring. "I found this in my pocket. Why would it be in my pocket?"

Sam leans against the counter. "You tell me, man."

"I think she knows something."

"But that’s a good thing, right?"

Theoretically. Not when he’s died for a week straight, though.

"Then why didn’t she tell us?" He hates the despair in his words, the paranoia seeping through. He hates that Sam catches it, and that his features morph into something that’s supposed to look understanding, even though he doesn’t get what this is about.

"Maybe you’re wrong," Sam says gently. "Are you sure she’s not just as oblivious to this as everyone else?"

Bucky drags a hand through his hair. His left shoulder aches. "I don’t know."

Yes. You do.

"I’m telling you, there’s something going on."

Sam stares at him for a long, hard moment, and then he nods. "Okay. What do you want to do?"

He wants to sleep in on Saturday. He wants to stop feeling so confused. He wants the words in his throat to stop choking him.

But what he wants hasn’t mattered in eighty years.

And so he doesn’t say, I’m scared.

He doesn’t say, I feel so alone.

He doesn’t say, I don’t want to die.

And the only one who hears those things swallows them up whole until there’s nothing left.

"I’ll tell you when I find out," he says, because that’s the only thing that will leave his mouth. And if Sam looks at him doubtfully, well, maybe he knows him a little too well.

* * *

"I’m gonna go get some coffee. Do you want something?"

Bucky can hear your keys clattering as you pull on your shoes in the hallway, but he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch. He has to think.

"I’m good," he says blankly.

Are you?

Even Alpine looks at him doubtfully. He leans back a little until a spot of sunlight reflects from his watch, making her pounce at it playfully. Normally, it’d make him smile.

She jumps up on the coffee table and sniffs at the shreds of cardboard someone’s left behind. They weren’t there yesterday.

On the muted television, Sam enters the stage with his signature cap grin. Presumably, there’s thunderous applause, because it takes him a while to actually step up to the podium and begin his speech.

In the background, dozens of important-looking people gaze at him expectantly, with the exception of a woman with short blonde hair who’s turned away from the stage, holding both hands to her ears like she’s trying to understand a person on the phone. Bucky squints.

"You sure?"

Reflexively, he looks up at the sound of your voice, only to see you leaning in the doorway with a cautious expression that doesn’t help his muddled thoughts in the slightest.

Talk to me.

"Why are you wearing a jacket?" he asks.

You tug at the sleeves, not meeting his eye. It’s become a habit he doesn’t care for. "To be more like you," you deadpan.

It would feel so normal if only he could shake the feeling that something is wrong. Something is off.

He catches a glimpse of your hands just before they vanish into the pockets of your jacket. Not long enough to clearly see what color your rings are, but enough to notice one’s missing.

It’s flitting through his own fingers instead, and you would notice, too, if you would just look at him.

"You sure you alright?" he asks, and for a split second there’s something like a flicker on your face, but it washes away immediately, replaced by the usual unbothered exterior you’ve been wearing.

"Just fine," you say, voice even, face neutral.

And the problem is that he’s not sure if you’re lying. Normally, it’s so easy to tell, but right now …

Alpine rubs her head against his palm, your ring pressing into it like a reminder, and it sends a chill down his spine.

Bucky waits for the door to click shut behind you before slipping into his shoes and quietly following after you. He takes three steps at a time to keep up with the elevator, and in his rush he ends up having to wait for it to arrive in the lobby, glancing surreptitiously through the small window in the fire door.

A change has gone through you while you were out of his sight. The mask you’ve been wearing whenever you know he’s around has vanished, dropped like your shoulders. When you cross the entrace hall, the usual bounce in your step is gone and you just look tired.

The frown on his face deepens. He makes himself count to ten before following you.

Stepping outside at this time of the day always feels like getting slapped across the face by the noise and the heat. The sun is relentless today, and he can feel sweat beading on his neck, but you don’t so much as readjust your jacket as you make your way across the street, slowly, like you’re letting yourself be carried by the crowds.

Bucky keeps enough of a distance so even you won’t get a second chance to become aware of him. Just before you enter the Starbucks, your chin raises up again, your spine straightening.

It’s uncanny to witness your defenses going up as clearly as this, and it makes him stop in his tracks so abruptly someone almost bumps into him.

"Hey, I was just—oh, sorry, Sergeant Barnes."

"It was my fault," he mutters. The guy strolls towards a delivery bike, stealing a cautious look over his shoulder. Something about the way he moves feels oddly familiar.

There’s no time for Bucky to entertain the thought much longer, because a couple of minutes later you step out onto the sidewalk again, drink in hand, and he retreats a bit further into the alley, expecting you to pass him on your way back. You don’t, though. Instead, you look up at the sky and let out a sigh before turning and strolling down Lex.

You didn’t do that yesterday, either.

Bucky hesitates for a moment. He doesn’t want to outright follow you around for the rest of the day; he only wanted to see … what, exactly?

He groans quietly and then walks into the Starbucks himself. Maybe coffee isn’t such a bad idea after all.

Besides … it’s not like she’s that fast.

How strange to know that if he really wanted to, he could probably track your steps without much of a problem, even on a day as busy as today. It unsettles him more than he would like to admit.

The AC blasts a little bit of common sense back into him, even though the volume inside the store immediately makes him want to tear his ears out. It’s not that busy at the moment, but the amount of noise of the chattering people and the coffee grinders and the milk steamers is close to unbearable as usual.

The barista who has a crush on Sam is working the register again, fanning herself with a playbill. There are red, white and blue stripes running down her forehead, and Bucky briefly wonders how she keeps it from getting into her eyes.

"Hi there," she says with a knowing grin as soon as she recognizes him. "You just missed Y/N."

"I saw." Bucky shifts his weight. "Did she seem weird to you?"

She chuckles. "Apart from the fact that she ordered decaf?"

He frowns. "Something like that."

She shrugs and redjusts her cap. "Just the usual amount," she says in a way that would make him smile on any other day. The tag on her apron has the name Nora on it, but he feels like that’s not right. "Do you want to order something? I can put it on her card."

Normally, he’d refuse out of principle, but it’s not like anything he does today matters.

"Thanks," he says. "I’ll have a coffee, then."

He doesn’t even particularly like coffee, but it does help when he hasn’t slept a lot. And, truth be told, he’s not sure when the last time he slept was. He’s been awake for a week, but without feeling any of the usual side effects of insomnia.

Or the numerous head wounds.

"Mhm," Not-Nora says. "Little more specific?"

Well, shit. "Not decaf?" he tries.

"You’re useless," she smiles and then taps her screen a bunch of times. "Alright, move along. Tell cap good luck from me."

He almost smirks. "Why not tell him yourself?"

She huffs, blushing ever so slightly. "I’m not getting out of here ’til one and I’m already a sweaty mess."

And maybe it’s because his day has been nothing but a shitshow over the past week. Maybe it’s because Sam hasn’t talked about Leila in over three weeks even before Friday started, and Bucky doesn’t like his friends being quietly miserable. Maybe he just wants to see something work out for a change.

It’s been a while since he’s played matchmaker. His sisters would’ve laughed about this for weeks; maybe he does it for that thought.

"How about you put down your number and I’ll pass it on?"

Not-Nora perks up even as her flush deepens. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

When he leaves five minutes later, her phone number is scrawled along one side of his paper cup, and even though the coffee tastes just as disgusting as usual, he can’t help but feel like maybe he can do one tiny thing right. At least for a moment.

His feet carry him down Lexington Avenue without him even consciously thinking about it, and he gets as far as three blocks before he remembers that Sam’s speech started at 14:00. He jerks up his watch so quickly the coffee spills on his shirt, but he barely hisses at the burn.

14:47.

What’s the point? he thinks as he throws the empty cup into the closest trash. Or maybe he does.

* * *

He throws his punches a little harder each day.

"I think I’m losing it," he tells Sam about a week in.

"Like a bad day or you’re about to go Shining on me?"

So far, there hasn’t been any shining, but it wouldn’t make a difference.

"Two o’clock."

He’s already half-turning when you say it, already pulling the trigger as the words leave your mouth, moving on muscle memory alone at this point. And you still don’t notice.

A single bead of sweat runs down the side of your neck as you kick another one of your assailants in the groin, and even though your eyes are focused, you’re not in it.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were just concentrating; but he knows you can be in the moment and quip freely at the same time. He’s seen you do it countless times before today.

But it’s Friday, endless, sweltering, blood-stained Friday, and it’s like you’ve turned into a robot version of yourself, every move premeditated and precise, every look and word and nod planned and practiced just enough not to arouse suspicion in anyone who doesn’t look as closely as he’s had time to. It’s a game of pretend, and you’re almost winning. You’re almost perfect.

No. You’re too perfect.

Perfect in your display of almost-shock, of almost-pain as the knife cuts through Bucky’s kevlar vest like butter and lodges right above his heart. At first, he barely feels it; he only tastes the blood bubbling up his throat when his mouth drops open.

His eyes stay on you as he thuds to his knees, bones crunching, eyes watering. You catch him, barely, supporting his shoulders to keep him steady.

Your silence is deafening.

"What’s wrong with you?" he murmurs as the ringing in his ears gets louder, barely audible enough for you to hear, but clearly you do, because something shifts in your eyes, and oh.

There’s that glimmer in your eye he loves looking at so much, the one he only gets to see when he teases it out of you. That spark of mischief he’s missed during all this, like your fire has burned out.

He’s never hated it more.

And then he comes to in the middle of the crossing between Lexington and East 55th, and once again, he feels like a decision’s been made for him already.

He makes it to the side of the road and sits down on the boardwalk, ignoring the bustle of curious people around him. Instead, he stares directly at the synagogue on the other side of the street, and he doesn’t ask why.

He asks, Like this?

And just like he expected, there’s no answer. Not even from within.

He presses both of his hands to his heart to feel it beat against his palm, more steady than his thoughts and still there. He’s still there.

It’s Friday again.

Bucky thought, not too long ago, that with everything he’s come to know and … like about you, you were someone he could let in. That someday, he could let you see him, with everything he’s used to hiding away underneath all of the protective layers he’s built around his heart.

Maybe he was wrong.

He should confront you. No, he should just ask. Why can’t he bring himself to ask?

Сбой, the voice in his head reminds him again and he presses it down, down between his torn open ribs, shoves it underneath the wounds that keep reopening anyway because he’s sick of having to listen to it all the time, sick of never being alone in his own damn head anymore, of not being able to leave a single day behind, let alone anything else.

Something tugs at him from deep within, and it’s enough to make him get up, rub his palms against his pants, and then take out his phone as he starts walking again. He knows the number by heart, but he’s never been able to actually hit the call button before, even though he’s tried. He’s tried countless times.

His speed picks up with every ring of the phone because something about this makes him feel like running away. Like maybe he gets it now. Like—

There’s a click, and then the sound of the voicemail recording. Of course.

Bucky groans. "Damnit, I know you’re never gonna listen to this, but there’s something really fucked up going on and I don’t—I don’t know what to do, man."

He keeps walking, keeps his head up even when he bumps into people, because what does it matter, right now? He ignores the red light at the next crossing, mostly because he needs to move.

"It’d be real fuckin’ decent of you to just pick up the goddamn phone every once in a while, you know, because that’s what—"

"Buck?"

For a second, everything screeches to a halt.

He’s not sure what comes first, him dropping his phone or the car hitting him from out of nowhere, but the next thing he knows is he comes to in the middle of the crossing between Lexington and East 55th, right as he’s about to turn his back on the brownstone front of the Central Synagogue, and it feels like someone just ripped his heart open all over again.

He flips the car off when it honks, not even caring about the ache in his limbs. His phone is safely tucked away in his pocket, and when he pulls it out again, there’s not so much as a scratch on the screen, but right now, it’s not like he would have cared.

The next five times he tries, the call doesn’t even go through.

He knows that voice. He knows it just as well as his own, just as well as the one hiding inside some dark corner of his mind, and it shouldn’t sound like that anymore.

The thing inside stirs again, that other, softer voice, that part of him he hates just as much.

Keep trying, it says.

It’s the part of him that told him to jump from the helicarrier. The part of him that still refuses to believe he was past redemption despite all the evidence pointing to the contrary; the part of him that’s too damn hopeful for its own good, and somehow still persists.

Talk to her, it says.

He can’t go on listening to ghosts for the rest of his days.

Or day, rather.

His thumb hovers over the call button one last time, and then he shuts his phone off.

* * *

"You look like shit."

"Oh, fuck you, Barnes."

He scoffs, but his mind is still hurling with anger and pain and confusion, and it comes out like a growl. He’s vigorously scrubbing at the crevices in his arm. Maybe the inside is still stained with his blood; maybe that’s why it feels so heavy.

"Are you alright?" you ask and his head snaps up.

You look so innocent, almost concerned. Normally, he would enjoy it for the second it would last, but today, it sticks. Everything sticks today.

"What do you think?"

Your eyes widen just a little bit, but you don’t say anything. You still don’t fucking say anything, and that’s more telling than anything else in this endless nightmare so far.

You’re not asking what’s wrong with him, because you know. You know.

"How many times are we gonna go through this before we’re done?"

You bite your cheek, your fingers twitch. "I don’t know," you say, and your voice sounds so far removed it barely sounds like yours anymore.

Fine, he thinks. If you’re not telling him, then it really is some elaborate scheme to punish him. To make him think he’s lost his mind again, make him see that free will is nothing but an illusion, that things will always, always stay the same no matter what he does. He gets the point.

Then why does it hurt so much to know? Why does it hurt to know you?

Maybe because none of this, as terribly, horribly real as it’s been, has felt like it was true at all. He’s still missing a piece of the puzzle, and you’re refusing to give it to him. If he only knew what went wrong between the two of you—no.

You’re clearly done with him, and he’s not going to beg for answers he’s not going to get. People he cares for usually made a point of leaving him; why should it have been any different with you?

By the time Sam enters the kitchen, Bucky’s been glaring at the fridge for a while already. There’s a magnet in the shape of a blue alien with six arms holding up your shopping list; a couple of sticky notes with passive-agressive messages on them, most of them about the cat litter; a postcard from the exhibit at the National Air and Space Museum. Trivial bits and pieces.

He wants to set all of it on fire, starting with the postcard.

"She knows," he says without turning when he hears Sam’s steps behind him. They halt on the other side of the kitchen island.

"Knows what?" He doesn’t even ask who, and it fuels the anger.

"That I’m stuck in a time loop."

A choking sound, too short to be worrisome. "Come again?"

Bucky glowers at him over his shoulder, even though none of this is Sam’s fault. He gets a concerned stare in return, which cools his temper somewhat; he lets out a sigh. "What day do you think it is?"

"Are you feeling alright?"

No. "Humor me."

He grabs a mug from the drying rack, just to have something to do with his hands. It’s the one with cat ears that showed up outside his room on his birthday, wrapped in cheap brown packing paper.

How long ago was March?

"Friday," Sam says, and he sounds so sure about it. Bucky desperately wants to believe it’s that easy.

"It’s been Friday for a while," he says instead, his voice cracking.

To go through everything like this is both easier and worse than he expected.

"I don’t get it." Sam pinches the bridge of his nose. "I’ve seen you fight before. Hell, I’ve fought you before. You’re near impossible to hurt, let alone kill."

Bucky huffs. "I heal fast, I’m not invincible."

"Then how does it keep happening when you know it’s coming?"

Unbidden, the glimmer in your eye comes to mind again. The line of your back turned towards him, the complete abandon of self-preservation in your fighting style, however streamlined it may be. Even through all this, you expect him to watch your six.

And why wouldn’t you? His eyes are continually drawn to you, anyway.

He knows that just as well as you do, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He can just go and be slaughtered instead.

Bucky swallows. His throat feels very dry.

"I told you we shouldn’t have brought her on," he finally says, even though it’s not really an answer. Or maybe it is. You were always going to be the knife that cut the deepest, and maybe he’s known from the start. "Reckless idiot."

"Yeah, you said that. Almost a year ago. Hasn’t that changed?"

"Everything’s changed," he snaps, and the mug slips from his fingers. It shatters on the tiles, small shards flying off in all directions, and it hurts.

It’s just a mug. It shouldn’t twist his stomach, not like this. He keeps staring at the pieces.

"And why do you think that is?" Such a soft question.

Bucky’s hands clench into fists.

That other voice inside knows the answer, is desperate to scream it out, to share the burden and the weightlessness of it, but he can’t let it. He squashes it down, forces it back into its dark, hopeless corner. It has no place here. It can’t.

Somehow, Sam seems to hear it anyway.

"Have you talked to her?" He chooses his words carefully.

Bucky’s heart is racing like he’s dying, but he knows what that feels like now and it’s not this. This is worse.

Сбой, he thinks again, and this time, it echoes in his mind loud enough to drown out anything else. The shards on the floor are blurring. He has a sudden urge to spit or vomit, but he half-expects words to come out if he should. Of all things.

Can we leave before I do something he’ll regret?

His left hand makes a grating sound as his right palm opens underneath his fingernails, blood slowly dripping from one wrist. It brings him back into the kitchen, Sam’s gaze still heavy on him. He doesn’t want to meet his eyes.

"She’s not coming."

There’s something cold in Bucky’s voice he’s too fed up to care he recognizes.

It’s his own fault. He’s let his guard down around you, let you in, and it’s been a mistake. Of course it was. You’re the one who led him here, and he doesn’t want to follow your orders any longer.

"Let’s go on the mission without her. If she isn’t there, maybe I won’t …" He doesn’t have to say it out loud. He’s still bleeding, after all.

"Are you sure?" Sam says.

No. "I’m asking as a friend."

As expected, that’s enough.

He doesn’t feel bad leaving you behind without a single word, without looking back over his shoulder as he quietly drags the door shut behind him. He doesn’t feel bad sitting on the quinjet in silence, staring daggers at the wall. He doesn’t feel bad as he climbs out and soaks up the last few rays of sunshine, his focus unbroken for once.

He’s not haunted by you here; only by his own ghost.

Bucky’s been through this enough times to recall more than the broad strokes of it; he slips this mission on like a second skin, breathing through the absence of you with more calm than he’s thought possible. Then again: this is what he’s good at.

There’s a goal, and there’s a catch; but no more distractions. This will be a breeze.

…

That night, he dreams of you. If you could call it a dream, the few strange, hazy moments after he dies and before he gets put together again.

You look at him, almost reaching out but never quite touching, your eyes gleaming green.

His name still echoes in your voice when he comes to.

* * * * *

From his perspective, it made sense, of course, so really there was no point in going over it again.

And yet you did. Over and over.

I want her out.

It was quite simple, really. Bucky hated your guts because of something you couldn’t control, you were still seething because of it, and you were both perfectly fine with avoiding each other for the rest of your days.

You took an extra shift at the store the next day, just so you wouldn’t have to run into the two of them any more than necessary. You couldn’t wait until Sam jumped back on his flight to D.C. and Bucky fucked off to do whatever he did all day; the most important part was that they’d both be far, far away from you.

"Fucking Steve," you mumbled as you violently scrubbed the counters. Come to think of it, all of this was entirely his fault. No one would even know you existed without him blabbering on about you. And what you wouldn’t give to live in a world without being judged for your very existence by a bionic ex-assassin.

On top of everything else, some moron decided to steal the tip jar while you were distracted getting some ice, and by the time you made it home, it was nearing midnight, you’d had way too many espresso shots for a single human being, and you just wanted to cry in the silence of your own four walls. It was probably the single most terrible day you’d had since the first couple of weeks in the Tower.

Unfortunately, when you unlocked the front door, you immediately realized that your terrible day wasn’t over yet. There were too many pairs of shoes sitting in the hallway, and voices coming from the kitchen area.

You quietly pulled off your sneakers in the semi-darkness of the hallway. You were way too exhausted to attempt to use your powers, but maybe you could tiptoe past them to take a quick shower and then fall into bed without having to talk to anyone.

Slowly, you crept closer to the stairwell, keeping one eye on the shadows dancing across the wall to your left. Snippets of conversation got clearer.

"—not saying that, but whether you want to admit it or not, she’s good." Sam sounded annoyed.

"It’s not about that and you know it."

"Yeah, I do. You know what else I know? You need to go back to therapy."

You froze, shrinking back into the darkness of the hallway. You could hear Bucky huff an incredulous laugh.

"I made—"

"Amends, I’m aware. And was that your idea, or was that the assigned homework from your court mandated army doctor?" Silence. "You can’t just work through a list and at the end of it decide you’re done and everything’s magically alright again."

"'Course not. I don’t get to do that."

There was something about his tone that made your anger sink down slowly, heavily, until you swallowed it down entirely and you just felt wretched.

You weren’t supposed to listen to any of this. This was way out of your depth, and you had no idea how to get out of it. Their voices blurred into each other as your pulse was rushing through your head loud enough to make you dizzy, and you reached for your necklace in an attempt to ground yourself, to calm your breaths and reach out to something that could get you away from this moment in time.

It was useless.

"Like I said," Sam continued calmly. "You don’t have to work together ever again. But the two of you should talk it out first."

"Or how about this," you whispered, not loud enough for any but superhuman ears to pick up on, "should we ever get to the point again where I reset something around you and it’s important, I will let you know."

You barely knew why you offered, with your back pressed against the wall, not even standing in the same room as Bucky. But you didn’t want to fight.

There was a beat of hesitation, and then he said, "Promise?"

"Sure," Sam said.

You held up your pinkie finger in front of your heart, even though no one could see. "On the nine lives of the cat I will own one day."

You counted your breaths up to twenty before you heard one of them shift their weight, bare feet shuffling over your tiles.

"Fine," Bucky said finally. "She can stay for now. But I’m keeping an eye on her."

A familiar hitch went through you all on its own and you opened your eyes to find the world standing still. You took a couple of hesitant steps towards the stairs again, your head turning when you passed the kitchen area.

Sam had his back turned to you, stretching to reach something on the shelf next to the fridge, but Bucky’s frozen gaze was fixed on the wall you’d been leaning against, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Determination was a good look on him, you decided. It left a certain shine in his eyes that was hard to look away from.

That night, you dreamt of drowning at sea, and somehow you didn’t want to call it a nightmare.

chapter eight

thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚

this chapter was my best kept secret and i'm forever grateful to @marvelettesassemblenow for reading ages ago 🫶🏼 also no one talk to me about thunderbolts bc i still haven't watched it but it seemed like a good time for a comeback

#time after time #HEARTBREAK #but the best ive ever read

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