#if anyone knows better than me let me know

[jiminiecrickets]

KILLER? I BARELY KNOW HER! FUSHIGURO TOJI / M!READER

summary. shadows of your past catch up to you – but you're the strongest, and there's nothing you can't handle.

wc. 5.5k

tags. smut | top reader, bottom toji. mentions of underage drinking. sorcerer + teacher reader, enemies-to-lovers (with extra steps), sorta sugar baby toji/rich reader, doggystyle + missionary, mentions of exhibitionism + filming, unprotected sex, brief degradation (r. receiving), brief breeding kink, implied shower sex

notes. every dark-haired male jjk character deserves a silly and illogically powerful best friend with whom they have romantic tension :3 you're him. literally.

The pleasant chime of the doorbell echoes throughout your home. You're not expecting anyone.

You know you should be careful. In fact, you shouldn't be staring at the back of the front door at all. Opening it would ruin the carefully put-together façade of the closed-curtain windows and dark rooms.

Maybe you're tired, and you forget, moving on instinct. Maybe you're bored.

Maybe you're hopeful.

The door inches open, and a man looks up from where he'd been staring listlessly at the flower-spotted bushes lining the patch of green between the entrance and the driveway. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and his eyes are dark, flickering with an emotion you can't quite catch before it flutters away.

"Toji?" you say, the surprise in your voice teetering on warmth. "Hey..."

"Hey," he replies – exhales, really, something like a hum. He reaches up by his shoulder, the action too familiar for you not to stiffen, but he just rubs the back of his neck, stretching out the cricks of his body. "So. New place, huh?"

Your hand rests behind the door. He knows better than to expect it to be empty. "Old, technically. It was my first property purchase."

He tilts his head. "Yeah? When did you get it?"

"Fifteen. A birthday present for myself – a gift for surviving another year of high school. And curses, I guess. Surviving them was way worse because getting their blood in my mouth made me want to die."

He scoffs, and the raised scar over the corner of his lips shifts with his amusement. "Fifteen... And what does a teenager do with a house?"

You shrug. "Drink. Party. Pirate movies. The usual."

"Hah. Sounds like you were a fun kid." Toji scuffs the toe of his sandals against the ground absently. Then he rolls his neck and sighs. "Look, I didn't come all the way here to talk history. Long-ass way out, too, so just let me in."

Lifting an eyebrow, you give him a once-over that feels keener than it should be. "Are you here to kill me?"

"What, you think I'm here for that bounty? Who do you think I am?"

"Don't blame me. You seem very well aware of it."

"Isn't worth the effort for the price. 'Sides, you've given me more than that over the years, haven't you? I like to keep my options open, and it seems to me like it's a better investment to keep you alive."

"You talk as if you could kill me at all," you mutter, a little disdainfully, but it dissipates swiftly when Toji cracks a smirk, so familiar and entwined deeply with your favourite memories. The breeze stirs lightly, and Toji's hair ruffles, almost blue in the sunlight.

"Couldn't I? You're the one who runs away."

"Yeah, after immobilising you. Not a lot of fun to be had if you're dead as a doornail. Say – how deep are you in the jujutsu world? You must be rusty. I'd be willing to help you train."

"You'd help me kill your fellow sorcerers?" He chuckles and arches a brow. "I'll have you know I'm looking at a contract worth thirty million from a bunch of religious crazies."

"Peanuts." You wave a dismissive hand. "Now that I mention it, I'm getting complacent, too... I could use the challenge. Keep in contact with me and I'll pay you double."

"You're paying me to use my body?"

"Your words, not mine."

He holds your gaze steadily for a while, and despite his airy voice, his eyes are thoughtful. "Let's not talk business on your doorstep. Lost your manners, have you?"

Finally, your shoulders loosen, and the tension in your body vanishes. With a soft chuckle, you pull the door open further and step aside. "Don't make me regret this."

"Please," he says, slipping out of his sandals and into your home. "You never do."

Zenin. Fushiguro. The Sorcerer Killer. All of his names, all of his history, and yet, to you, he is just your baby – your Toji. It'd be embarrassing if he cared enough to be embarrassed, he thinks as you draw him into a rib-shattering hug. Instead, he feels smug.

Before that Gojo kid, there was you. It wasn't a position you were born for – like the kid was – but you trained your way up and eventually found yourself most suited for the role, all but waltzing into it – because what youth wouldn't want to be number one? It was almost gross, your selflessness and single-minded ambition, and Toji knew how that sort of mindset made the people in power feel. They commissioned him for your death at one point, after all.

It was fun. You were both so young: dancing around each other's weapons as if it was all a stage, chasing each other's clues like a couple of dogs running after a bone. Still – you were society's best, the cream of the crop, and for you to be his, of all people, was a selfish triumph he indulged in too many times to count.

His hands creep up beneath your baggy shirt as he leans up to kiss you, tongue slipping between your lips to share in the taste of some expensive whisky he can't name. He hums – a low, rumbling sound, like a tiger chuffing – as his fingers bump over thick, warm muscle.

Blood and bone. That's what you all are, when it comes down to it.

"You should wear tighter clothes," he murmurs against your lips. "Less to grab in a fight."

The backs of his thighs press into the edge of the kitchen bench, where a forgotten glass of water sits – the remnant of your half-hearted attempt at being a good host while his lips found your neck.

You huff. "A 'fight', huh? I wasn't expecting one."

"You should always expect a fight. While you're at it, always expect to lose. Stops you from being disappointed."

"Sounds pessimistic."

"That's the price we pay for being good at what we do."

"As if you pay for anything, Toji."

He chuckles. He drops the hem of your shirt before sliding his palms up your chest – what a tease – and cupping your face. His hands are warm, callused, thrumming with lifeblood. He sweeps his thumb absently over your cheek, committing every pore of your face to memory. You have the urge to pull away, look down, like a schoolboy with a crush – but Toji's hands are firm.

"C'mon, at least look me in the eye before we kick this off. You that ashamed of me?"

Startled, your gaze flicks up to his. Instead of the half-wry look you expect, he smirks and pulls you in to meet his lips. His fingers interlace loosely at the nape of your neck, caging you in place, and you have no choice but to bend to his whim.

"Stupid," you mutter against his lips, mostly to yourself. "Stop playing with my feelings, Toji – that's manipulative. You're breaking my heart here."

Rather than pulling away himself, he pushes you away, a palm flat on your chest but without any real power. It remains there as he leans back against the stone countertop. "My bad, baby. It's just funny."

"Funnier than you calling this," you gesture between your chests, "something to 'kick off' after... how many years? If you weren't all over me seconds ago, I'd think you came over for a beer and a game."

He lifts his hands in teasing surrender at your accusatory tone. "All right. We'll fuck, then. Maybe include some heavy petting for the B-roll, if you're up for it. Sound good?"

You cross your arms over your chest and muster up a suitable amount of annoyance for a glare. Toji finds it hard to take you seriously – what with your dumb jokes and ridiculous inclination towards flashy fighting – so to him, it's more of a pout. "So, you got lonely without me, huh? Yeah, nah. We're not filming ourselves."

"Hm." It's not a yes, but it's not a disagreement, either. "Why not? It'd be hot."

"I'm a teacher, Toji," you remind him, clicking your tongue when he shrugs, one hand on his hip. "I don't want that kind of thing to exist. If it got out..."

"So you are ashamed of me," he mutters. He steps forward to grab your hands when you start to protest, visibly distressed. He snickers. "Kidding, kidding. Fuck, it's fun to play with you. You don't care about the other one, then? The one from the abandoned restaurant?"

"Well—" Your breath stutters when Toji absently compares hand sizes and laces your fingers together. You watch as he aligns four of his fingers against your ring finger specifically, one at a time as if comparing again, but this time...

"Well?" he prompts, his grin broadening. His shaggy hair falls across his eyes as he tilts his head.

"Well, I don't look like I did ten years ago, and as far as I know, my face isn't in it..." All logic scatters like leaves in the wind when he looks up at you through his lashes, that playful, pretty smirk of his tugging at your heartstrings just right. It's like the years never passed. You swallow. "I-It was different," you finish lamely.

Toji's eyes flicker down to your lips. With a flick of his wrist, he twists a hand in your collar and tugs you down so that your faces are inches apart. Your chests collide roughly. He doesn't seem to care, his gaze trained on you with a heavy, smoky intensity. "Fine. If you won't let me film it, you better make it memorable. I'll decide later if it was worth coming here for."

—

Toji should have known you were serious when you pulled the bedframe about six inches out from the wall. He'd laughed at first, insulting you for such uptight behaviour regarding something as boring as walls, but you'd just dragged him to the bed with a roll of your eyes.

With how loud he was moaning, you could only be glad that he didn't find you at your apartment property.

"Toji," you breathe, your gaze trapped on the tight, firm ass ricocheting off your hips. Your grip tightens. "Toji."

"Fuuuck," he drawls as his cock throbs, prying his eyes open to narrow them at you over his shoulder. Lust has turned the usual green of them nearly black. "What?" he bites out.

"I missed you. Missed this. Fuck, baby, you're so fucking tight."

He lets out a throaty chuckle, turning back around to rest his head on his forearms. With a shift of your hips, your cock punches his prostate, over and over, and his eyes roll back briefly, a pleased groan rumbling from the depths of his stomach. His dick pulses and swings uselessly between his muscular thighs.

"M-Men are all the same," he grumbles. You click your tongue, though you don't miss the way an involuntary moan makes him stutter.

"Awful way to greet an old friend, you know. I thought you were smarter than that. Try being nicer," you slam your hips forward, making his eyes fly open with a gasp, "and you'll get what you want."

His skin prickles when you glide a warm hand up his side and come to rest it upon his shoulder, holding him down with just enough strength to make his muscles flex to fight it. Your thumb rubs little circles into the back of his neck, tracing the dips of his shoulders until you find what you're looking for. You dig into the taut muscle, making him wince.

"Stressed?" you hum, and your voice is gentle. Gentler than he deserves. "Is it money problems again?"

Something like guilt stirs in his belly, but a well-angled thrust has his thoughts unravelling. "No."

"No?"

"No," he repeats. You hum in response and don't push the matter further.

Your hand lifts from his shoulder, and already he can feel the stiffness returning. Damn those God-hands of yours. He finds himself arching back, bracing against the bed, in an effort to return your hands to their rightful place.

You hush him sweetly, pressing your chest to his back and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The angle has the shaft of your heavy cock pressed right up against his prostate and his body jolts with the fiery burn of pleasure, his knuckles turning white as he fists the sheets. "No need to chase me anymore. Not going anywhere. 'M right here, baby."

Toji manages to scoff, and his voice is steadier than he expects. "Not chasin' you, asshole."

"Yeah? Then what do you call showing up at my door as you did, unannounced?"

"Welfare check."

You roll your eyes. "I hate you."

You punctuate your sentence by yanking his hips back on your cock, the wet squelch of lube and precome making him shudder. Despite the rough treatment, a moan tumbles from his lips, and he laughs, loose and breathy.

"Fuck me like it, then," he dares, knocking his temple gently against yours.

One hand lifts to card through his hair. He groans softly as your nails scrape his scalp, but his eyes fly wide open as you grab a fistful and tug, wrenching him up to kneel. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as you wrap your hand around his leaking cock, jerking him off at the same pace as you fuck into him – he swears he sees stars as your thumb and index finger twist roughly around his swollen tip. His cock squelches in your fist, bubbles of precome sliding down his tip and smearing across your palm.

"Fucker," he snarls, ceasing his split second of flailing to grip your hip and thigh. You'd consider it painful if you hadn't also had the pleasure of being stabbed, slashed, shot, and bitten. "Nngh – so fuckin' big—"

"Going back on our word, are we, honey?" you say slyly, twisting your fist up and down his wet cock. "Tsk, tsk, Toji... so forgetful. I'd say you're getting old."

You glide a fingernail up the line of his vein, making his hips stutter and forcing another curse to slip from his lips, and you dig the tip of your finger roughly into his leaking slit. He moans and his back arches against your hold as your throbbing cock easily slides deep into him, the harsh, rapid smack of your balls against his ass almost disorienting.

He shudders. The heat of his body pulls his skin too tight, makes his tongue heavy and clumsy. Your hands are not quite soft – years of weapons training and hand-to-hand combat would do that to someone – but they're sweet on him. Loving, nearly. Your warmth softens the rub of calluses and tough scar tissue, and Toji learns them anew.

"C'mon, baby... want you to talk to me. Love your pretty little sounds." You end the sentence in a whisper, patting his stomach with the absent sort of friendliness you had as a youth. You never shied away from touching him, rewarding him with your weight draped over his shoulders or entwining your fingers when he did something that pleased you.

That familiar feeling jolts him back to reality. He glances your way – perhaps to say something, but he doesn't remember what about – and you capture his lips with yours, tilting your head and running your tongue over his lower lip.

He keeps them sealed, airtight.

You groan into the kiss and nip at him pleadingly, because you'd have to break Toji's jaw to get him to open up – and you couldn't do that to your favourite killer. Your name falling from his lips like a prayer is too sweet to pass up on.

Eventually, with enough petting and kisses, Toji relents, if only to see you perk up like a puppy tossed a bone. He groans softly as you explore his mouth, tongue curling around his and gliding over his teeth.

Your breath is hot and sweet against his, your lips shockingly gentle despite the quick and steady pace of your hips bouncing off his ass. He jolts every time your cockhead kisses his prostate, swollen and sensitive from your unrelenting pace. His dick bobs, dark red and pulsing hotly in your palm, and he groans like an injured animal. It's almost desperate.

Your shaft drags against his slick walls, which clench with a rippling squeeze as if he's trying to milk you dry. With each hungry snap of your hips, your tip punches the breath out of his lungs. His vision blots out, and he swears he can feel your cock in his damn throat.

Without warning, and without a word, he comes, his expression going lax with pleasure as he releases thick ropes onto his stomach. It's four hard spurts and two weaker pulses, the slow, measured tugs of your wrist twisting in a way that has his thick thighs trembling.

You coo softly, and Toji's face is uncharacteristically warm. Little kisses drift their way up his shoulder and neck and he sighs softly, eyes shut and head tilted back against your shoulder. You press your palm against his chest to feel the heart thudding beneath his ribs, the rise and fall with each shallow breath.

You cup his chest and squeeze.

He cracks an eye open, disapproval furrowing his brows. In response, you grin cheekily and nip at his earlobe as you smooth your fingers through his hair – a silent apology for being so rough.

To his credit, he lets it go. Doesn't even smack you for being an ass. He does, however, clamp down punishingly around your cock when he pulls off, making you hiss at the scrape. It bobs and you shiver at the cold air.

Thoughtfully, Toji glances down at it, still hard as rock and curving upwards towards your stomach. He reaches for it.

Your eyes widen when he slips a nail under the edge of the condom. "Wh-What are you doing?"

"Don't sound so scared. I know we're both safe. Said ya missed me, right?" He grins, dark and sharp, with eyes half-lidded – almost coy. "I'll let you finish inside me. For old times' sake."

"Contract-sanctioned stalking? I thought better of you, Toji." Despite your flippant words, your breath hitches, and Toji's grin widens. He tugs the slick condom off and tosses it aside – without even tying it up, the bastard – and before you can grumble about it, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him, and presses his lips to yours.

You groan softly as he parts his lips and allows you in. He shifts closer, his knee between yours, and grabs your hand. He brings it down between your bodies.

"Baby..." you whisper as he wraps your hand around your lengths, pressed together. He is hot and velvety in your palm.

"Mm." The sound is deep and content, and he blinks up at you slowly like a cat. "I know. I want it."

Then, slinging his arm loosely around your shoulders, he pulls you down with him.

You barely manage to catch yourself before crushing him, your instincts and reflexes dulled by familiarity and a dreamy languor. Not that you think he'd mind – not with that grin.

Toji spreads his knees and hooks his calves around your thighs. He guides your cock into him again, and he rumbles out a pleased moan as it buries itself hilt-deep into his slick warmth.

His head falls back against the pillows as you press your hips flush against his ass. "Ah, shit..."

"You good, baby?" you murmur, swallowing harshly as his gummy walls flutter tightly around you, as if he can lock you inside forever. Your dick twitches.

"Mmh, fuck, jus' sensitive. Move."

It's only natural that you obey.

Toji feels hotter now that you don't have the layer of plastic to contend with – hotter, wetter, hungrier. You thrust shallowly at first, but as his moans grow louder – less restrained – you allow yourself to move tip-to-base, deep and dirty the way he used to like it. Seems he still does. The rim of his puffy asshole catches on the ridge of your cockhead and his nails rake down your shoulders and back, leaving stinging raised lines in their wake.

Pride fills your chest, inflates your ego. An infamous assassin, the Sorcerer Killer, spread wide and inviting with his cheeks all flushed – he's certainly given you a thousand little deaths. You grip the meat of his ass and lift his hips off the mattress, fucking into his wet heat at a new angle that has him shouting your name.

Maybe it's because you can see his face – see all the pretty cock-drunk expressions that wash over his features – that you find yourself chasing the precipice of release embarrassingly fast. He locks his legs around your waist, thick and muscular, and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Why would you ever want to leave?

"Toji," you grunt, panting softly. "'M gonna..." Your breath fans against his sweat-slick skin, making him shiver and arch into your touch. He cups the back of your neck as you nibble and suck dark bruises into his tanned skin, his lashes fluttering as you shift his thighs on your lap and leave far too many deep red hickeys printed on his skin. You even scatter a few across his collarbones and chest, and you're only pleased when he looks like he was mauled by a bear.

He pants softly, his bitten moans making your cock throb even harder. Fuck, you're so hard – the shape of your teeth printed into his skin for all to see makes you prouder than you'd ever admit. You trace the marks gently with your fingertips and Toji's chest stutters.

Gazing up at you with lidded, unfocussed eyes, he laughs, freer than he had since you met him earlier. Your heavy cock plunges into his stretched hole, again and again and again like you're trying to make him take, and your grip on one of his thighs is tight enough to leave red crescents. He grasps your face, turning it down towards him, and offers a sleazy, roguish grin, breathless. His eyes trace the cut of your cheeks, the curve of your lips.

"You look less stupid than usual. S'all you're good for, ain't it? Fucking me nice an' deep with that fat cock of yours – f-fuck. S'mine, yeah? All mine?"

You shudder and groan, bone-deep, and Toji can feel the heavy throbbing of your cock leaking inside him. The slick feeling of you against his walls builds a hot ball of arousal in his lower belly. Your chest heaves against his and your stomach tenses, familiar planes of muscle firm against his hand. Excitement roars through him like a wildfire – eager and keening.

He yanks you down for a devouring kiss as you come, catapulting off the precipice into white bliss. You gasp into it. His ass clenches around you with his own release as he moans, his soft walls stroking you and sucking you in.

He's so fucking warm, so fucking wet. His body is slick with sweat and he shoves his tongue into your mouth like a man starved. Maybe he is. You groan, low and pleased, and his thighs tighten around you like a cage, possessive in his hungry, unyielding embrace.

Spilling into him is heaven. You've died and ascended, you're certain of it. He drinks you deep, as if he was made for it, and lets his head fall back against the pillows with a less-than-steady sigh as your balls tighten and pulse hotly against his skin. Dragging it out, you grind your hips into his ass in lazy circles, huffing and puffing against his throat as if you've run a marathon. Your fingers graze his own, fluttering in a way that seems almost... uncertain.

Hah. As if you knew what that word meant. You were unshakeable, infallible. The strongest. You'd hold onto that title for as long as you could; the burden was heavy.

Rather disappointingly, you don't choose to hold his hands. They glide down his waist and hips, making him shiver, and you slowly pull out, the solid but gentle grip on his thighs never wavering. You set him down as if he was made of glass and his body twitches as thick come leaks from his stretched hole, dripping and pooling white below his ass.

He tosses a lazy arm over his eyes, bending one knee and bracing against the bed. Another hot gush of come. "Ah, f-fuck... shit. You still come like a truck..."

Your gaze, once so dark and sultry as if you were about to eat him alive, now snaps to him, wide and kind and so embarrassed that Toji can't help but crack a grin.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He rolls his eyes. "Other than the hickeys, no. Wouldn'ta minded it anyway," he adds slyly, peering out from within the shadow of his arm. "Pretty hot when you get creative."

Shuffling off of the bed with a soft chuckle, you pick up the discarded condom and toss it in the bin. You pull open the wardrobe with a flex of a wall of muscles that Toji watches keenly, spreading his knees to eye you through them. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

"Y'know, I was thinking," you begin suddenly, rifling through clothes and drawers.

"You can do that?"

"Shut up. I was thinking about you – your situation."

He closes his eyes and sinks back into your bed. "When'd you have the time? Not while you were fucking me, I hope."

"Just listen, Toji." You turn around, washcloth in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other. Dark, but loose and unremarkable – as he prefers it. You toss the clothes at the bottom of the bed and disappear into the adjoining bathroom, raising your voice as the faucet squeaks on. "I was wondering if you'd wanna... you know – catch up. Or at least let me help you."

You continue, "I could find you a place in a better school zone, get you set up legitimately. Honestly, actually, you wouldn't even need to work. You could just focus on your family and I'd take care of the rest."

Toji sits up, ignoring the pinch of pain and the mess between his legs. It'll ache later, so he'll deal with it later. "What?"

"I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, heard you the first time. But why?" He lowers his voice as you return to him and begin to clean him up. He meets your eyes and his mouth takes on the beginning slant of a smirk. "My ass that good, huh? You want me to be your sugar baby?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "You're not that hot, Toji. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Wasn't talking about my face. Still – it's not like you to beg me to go on the straight and narrow. What's with that?"

"At the risk of sounding humiliatingly sappy after sex," you sigh, sitting back and dropping the cloth aside, "I still care about you. A whole fucking lot. I only want good things for you, Toji, and I have all this excess wealth that I can't donate fast enough, so if I can change just two more lives – I'd beg for the chance."

The desire to change lives without ending others'. He can understand the sentiment.

"What would you want from me?"

For a moment, you're taken aback by the tiredness in his voice. You blink. "Nothing? Like I said, the money would just vanish into a charity otherwise. Well – maybe I'd like to be invited over on the weekends, and maybe drop off-slash-pick up itty-bitty Megumi every so often. He's that age, right? Oh – and you gotta let me into the kitchen. I make a mean lasagne. Wonder if the boy would like it..."

He snorts. "That's a lot of conditions."

"Well, I am offering to let you live like a plump and happy housewife, so..."

He's quiet for a while, his hair falling over his eyes in a way that blocks your view of his face. You toss a rolled-up towel at his head, and he catches it without looking.

He lowers the towel. "You... don't seem to care that I left you."

"No, I didn't at all care that my friend dropped off the face of the earth without warning." You cross your arms and scoff, the smile slipping from your face. "I only heard about what happened months after you vanished, and by that time, there was nothing I could do to search for you. I had too many people looking at me to dig up old underground contacts and not enough time to comb through the country myself. You could have talked to me, you know," you say, your voice softening. "I would never turn you away."

He shrugs, noncommittal. "It's like you said – too many people looking at you. Would be alarming if I came strolling up to your door, wouldn't it?"

"You did today," you point out.

"Yeah, when there's a bounty on your head. I could be killing you right now."

You scoff, though the hint of a smile flickers across your lips. "You're impossible. But fair point. Just... think it over, okay? Come find me after all this bounty business is over and done with. You know where I live."

Toji chuckles softly, and he accepts your offered hand. You lead him to the large bathroom and he threads his towel over the rod next to what must be yours. He stares longer than he should, but the sight of the two towels beside each other – his green, yours blue – forms a lump in his throat that's hard to swallow around. His heartbeat quickens.

The sound of water hitting the tiles fills the bathroom. He raises his voice over it. "Hey."

Glancing over, your arm shimmering with water droplets from where it rests against the faucet handle, you tilt your head wordlessly.

"I should be picking up the kid in a couple of hours," he explains, "at six. As far as he and the childcare know, I work a normal nine-to-five like the rest of 'em. You could go."

Your eyes widen, and you let out an endeared laugh. "Toji, Megumi doesn't know who I am. The last time we met, he was a newborn. I'm not about to give everyone a heart attack by showing up on your behalf."

"It wouldn't be on my behalf, dumbass." His tone borders between disparaging and fond. "I'd go with you."

"Wh—?" Your throat bobs harshly. The shower seems forgotten, and Toji pushes you backwards into it with a palm on your chest because he's not about to waste the water. It pours onto your head, your hair beginning to stick to your face, and it still doesn't seem to register. A smile pulls at his lips as he reaches for your body wash, scanning the label while your brain putters out and short-circuits.

You didn't expect an answer that soon.

"You heard me," he says coolly, as if this is a normal Tuesday for him. He squirts a dab of body wash onto his palm. "Isn't this what you asked for? In my opinion, it's not that fun. I get a lot of women chattin' me up while we wait. Awkward as hell since I can't be rude or they might tell their kids, and then their kids won't like Megumi... ah, it's a big deal. You being there will help. You love to talk, so you can do it for me. Good game plan, right?"

"Toji, I..."

"The fact that I'm talking more than you worries me."

"You said pick-up's at six, right?" you say suddenly, the glint in your eyes intensifying.

He arches a brow, glancing up at you. "Yeah."

"That means we have an hour." You lean in, trapping him against the glass of the shower. There's a hint of mania in your gaze, starved with a vehement zeal. "I'm gonna fuck you, now."

His eyes widen. A feral grin spreads across his face. He laughs against your throat and moans when you press your thumb roughly into one of the many hickeys littering his neck and chest. "You're crazy. Fuckin' crazy – oi."

It's disturbingly easy for you to lift him by his thighs and press him against the cool glass. His skin prickles as he grips your shoulders and mutters, his breath mingling with yours: "If you drop me, I'll kill you."

"Promise?" you ask with a breathless grin.

He crushes his lips to yours. No one else gets the privilege of taking your little deaths.

[burrowdarling]

My MVP II (18+)

Summary: What happens after the NFL Honors, especially after your ride back to the hotel. Read part one here!

Pairings: boyfriend! Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), light spanking, elevators, Joe praise, sex (p in v), MDNI

Note: Heyo! Here's part two: The Hotel Room from My MVP, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you all so much for the love on the first one, which has over 600 notes in 3 days (like what?!?) Happy Superbowl Sunday, wish we had our boys playing, but smut always help with that right?

Word Count: 2.8k

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You tried your best to keep pace with Joe’s long legs as you trailed behind him, fingers knotted through his. He Handed his keys off to the valet, his face expressionless as he did so. You felt your cheeks flush at the knowledge of what you had just done, knowing some stranger was about to get into the same car. Trying to keep your face down, you mumbled a thank you to the man as you passed him by. The walk wasn’t long, but your short legs were no match for Joe's long strides. 

“Joey, can we slow down? It’s hard to walk in these damn things,” you pleaded, wishing you had taken them off and reaped the consequences later. 

He wordlessly obeyed your request, slowing his pace slightly so you could catch up. Joe took the opportunity to release your hand, slipping his own protectively around your waist to keep you close. You walked through the sliding doors of the hotel lobby, Joe making a beeline for the elevators. The wait was short, glad to have gotten an elevator all to yourselves. Joe pressed the ‘close doors’ button as fast as he could, making you giggle.

“Someone’s eager,” you said, trying to spin to face him. You were feigning for his touch, still riding the high from your first orgasm. It was nothing compared to what Joe could give you, him knowing your body better than you did.

Joe pulled you tightly into his front, the feel of his cock straining against his dress pants making your breath hitch in your throat. The thought that this could stop on any floor, anyone could walk in had your pulse thrumming. Joe leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, mouth dangerously close to your ear.

“Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” Joe asked as more of a rhetorical question, “how badly I wanted to rip this dress off of you before we even got out of the car at the venue?”

He slipped the back of your dress up, keeping your front covered. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden breeze on your backside, feeling more exposed than you were in the car. You were shocked, unsure of what to do with this new side of Joe. He was always so reserved when it came to you, but tonight was like he had flipped a switch of his own.

“I’m regretting letting you put your excuse for fucking panties back on right now,” he groaned, giving your ass a smack and a squeeze. Joe took the chance to grind himself against you, a moan slipping from your lips at the feel of him, desperate to have him against your bare skin

You made it out of the elevator unscathed, in a desperate pursuit to find your room. You fumbled with the keycard, unsure as to why Joe entrusted you with the job considering his composure was much better than yours. He waited patiently though, large hands on your shoulders while you went through your bag to find it, slipping it out of your purse and only dropping it to the floor once before you both made it in the confines of your room. 

The moment you passed the threshold, Joe was on you. You had only taken a few steps in as your back was against the door as it closed. Joe’s mouth was everywhere on your skin, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

He walked you backwards to the center of the room, mouth never leaving yours. When he was satisfied with your placement, he left one final kiss to your lips before parting from you. You groaned at the loss of contact, confusion over your features when he took a seat in the armchair. 

“I want you to strip for me, sweetheart,” Joe growled out, eyes heavy with desire. His eyes were so blown with lust, you’d give him anything he asked of you. 

You walked towards him silently as you spun around, needing help unzipping your dress. You felt his large warm hands move up your back before settling on the top of your back. Joe gave you a short stroke of his thumb as a way of saying he was there, using his other hand to move the zipper down to the base of your spine. You walked back towards the middle of the room, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you turned back to face your man.

You hesitated for a brief second, processing his request fully under his domineering gaze before he gently nodded towards you as a sign to go ahead. He dropped you a wink before giving you a small smile, reminding you that your Joey was still here, even if he was putting on this persona tonight. You wanted to please him, give him the proper celebration he deserved. 

You pulled your hair to one side, exposing your shoulder and the skimpy strap of your dress. You locked eyes with him, taking your hair and moving the strap to slip down your arm. His eyes never left yours, licking his lips as he was unable to settle into the chair fully. You could tell he was ready to jump your bones, holding himself back to preserve this moment for as long as possible. You moved to drop the strap from your other shoulder and watched as the fabric pooled around your ankles. You stepped out of it as Joe moved from his stop on the chair. He had you in his arms, tossing you like you weighed absolutely nothing back against the pillows on the bed. You erupted in laughter, feeling heat pool in your stomach at his sheer size and strength.

You were laid back on the bed, knees bent and your heels sticking into the duvet. You watched Joe as he started to rid himself of his clothes. You admired him, feeling a strong pull of lust and love for the man before you. A well of pride sat heavy on your chest that you were able to shower him with the love and affection he deserved, to treat him like the MVP you believed he was to you. You watched as he reached around his neck, getting ready to slip the chains off for the night.

“Keep them on,” you spoke softer than you meant to, breathless at the sight of him, “you never wear jewelry, I wanna enjoy it.”

Joe nodded at your request, beginning to remove his jacket while leaving the chains around his neck. His skin was taught, his muscled chest finally being within your reach after he wore that suit all night. You got up from your place on the bed, moving on your knees to meet Joe where he was standing. He took the last of his clothing off, tossing it to the side before turning towards you. You took your opportunity, slipping a delicate hand up his chest and settling on one of his chains, giving a soft pull towards you. Joe groaned at the feeling of the taught jewelry at the nape of his neck, nipping at your lips in praise. His hands settled on your ass, gripping your cheeks in both hands before giving them a tender squeeze. You gasped at the sudden touch, Joe capitalized on the moment to slip his tongue in your mouth. Moving one hand to the middle of your back to support your body. 

It was raw and full of passion, unfiltered and encompassing the pent up emotions of the day.  Your hands were lost in his hair, gripped whatever you could to keep your head from spinning. Joe laid you back on the mattress, getting to his knees and pulling you to the edge of the bed. Much like he did earlier, he took the time to take off each one of your heels

“As sexy as these are, I wanna be able to move you around freely and not risk taking a heel to the face,” Joe joked lightly, slipping off your heel as he kissed up your calf. You nodded in agreement knowing you weren’t the most coordinated person. Even in intense moments like this, he always knew how to keep you comfortable. He repeated the same on your other leg, taking the time to move slowly up your body. Joe didn’t leave an inch of skin untouched by his lips as he settled at the apex of your thighs. 

“God you’re fucking dripping for me, sweet girl. How do you want me first?” Joe asked as he toyed with you, stroking the area just above your pubic bone causing you to stir.

“What do you mean first?” you question him, you did already finish once tonight. Your mind went blank at the possibility of just how much he wanted to wear you out tonight.

“You heard me, I plan on getting you to cum multiple times tonight. How many times do you think I can make you finish him? Once, twice, maybe three times if I’m lucky” Joe said with such confidence in his voice that your body trembled with excitement. 

“Though I think we both know I don’t need luck for that. I know just what makes you tick, exactly what my girl likes” Joe said as he brought his hand down between your legs, swiping a finger through your slit before moving up to circle your clit with his thumb.

The simplicity of the touch already had your back arching off the bed, having been craving to have his hands on you for hours. He took his free hand and brought two fingers up to your lips, tapping them to get you to open. He slipped them inside, thoroughly wetting them like you did earlier. Your eyes stayed locked on his gaze as he slipped them past your lips with a pop. You could tell he was imagining his cock in your mouth, drawing a lazy smile to your lips as the later probability. 

He brought the wet digits down to your core, slipping them inside of you as he pumped them in and out slowly to start. You were already beginning to lose it, your  body wound so tightly, it wouldn’t take much to get you there. He increased his pace as he changed the angle of his fingers, moving them in the ‘come here’ motion as he kept hitting that certain spot inside of you. In perfect rhythm, you were on fire from his touch as you were seconds from losing it, his movements unrelenting. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles going white at the sheer pleasure he was causing your body. You felt electric, a simple spark could send you reeling. You tossed your head from side to side against the pillow, eyes clenched shut from the pleasure coursing through you. You were so close to the edge, fighting to get to the point of that sweet release.

“I'm so close, Joey. I wanna cum for you like a good girl,” you moaned, stirring something inside of Joe at your words. It was as if he took your words as his own motivation to get you there, feeling how close you were.

“That’s it, cum all over my fingers baby,” Joe praised as your high ripped through your body, feeling a bit sensitive from your previous orgasm. “Number two will be with my mouth, I gotta get a taste of you.”

Before your mind could uncloud from the high, Joe’s tongue was already slipping inside of you lapping at whatever he could get. Your hands settled into his hair, pulling him closer to your body as you possibly could. You were a moaning mess, earning a groan from Joe in response that only made things feel more intense from the vibrations. It didn’t take long for you to finish on his face, grinding down to ride out your high that came so fast out of left field. This one feeling more intense than the first, the realization dawning on you that you had just squirted all over Joe. A small pit formed in your stomach that he would be upset somehow, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him between your legs.

His gaze met yours, telling you everything you needed to know. His pupils were blown so wide with lust. A look that said ‘don’t you dare feel bad for that’ while he made no move to part from you. He tenderly licked as your breathing even out, lapping at your juices like he was deprived. He moved to make his way up your body, flipping you around and lifting your hips so you were on your knees. He climbed on the bed to settle behind you, leaning down to bring his mouth by your ear. 

“You have no idea how hot that was, watching you do that. I can’t wait for number three to be around my cock, I already know your cunt is so fucking wet for me,” Joe growled out as he brought his mouth down to you, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You hadn’t spoken much, mumbling back an incoherent string of sounds that were meant to come out as words. Joe laughed behind you, pulling you up from your hands to rest back against him. You leaned your head on his shoulder, taking the time to breath before he would wreck you with his unrelenting thrusts. He gave your temple a kiss, gripping your breasts and toying with your nipples. He already had that knot in your stomach forming again, the pressure building in your center with an ache to have him inside of you.

“Need you inside me, Joe,” you whined against him, reaching your hands around to get any part of him in your grasp. 

“I can’t deny my baby what she wants, good to hear your voice still works for now,” Joe said as he moved you back to your hands and knees. You arched your back and wiggled your hips, ready to have him inside you. You pushed back against him, feeling his hands on your hips to stop your movements. A low whine slipped past your lips, ready to beg for his cock to be inside you already when he slipped in without warning.

You moaned loudly at the fullness of having him inside you, dropping your head in relief at the contact. Joe’s grip on your hips was firm as if he was taking out all of his pent up tension and the nerves from the night out on your body. You weren’t complaining, relishing in the thrusts and feel of his body coming into contact with yours after each one.

He pulled out quickly, flipping you onto your back before quickly finding his way back inside of you. He dropped to his forearms above you, caging you into his body as you locked eyes.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, i wanna see your face when I make you come undone on my cock,” Joe said as he deepened his thrust more than you thought was possible.

Your hands were clawing at his back, trying to ground yourself into the moment, every delicious stroke making you lose more and more of your sense of control. You felt yourself tightening around his cock, your release on the edge of tipping. It was as if Joe knew exactly where you were, dropping one of his hands between you and rolled your clit with his thumb and forefinger, the touch acting like a catalyst to your orgasm. You were a mess below him, arching up into his body as your nail raked down his toned back. 

Your release brought Joe to his own, painting your walls with his own cum shortly after you. He slowed his strokes, the both of you feeling sensitive to the slightest touch after your highs. You both laid there and caught your breath.You brough one of your hands to cup his cheek, Joe leaving into the gentle touch in the aftermath of everything.

“Congratulations, Joey. That was way better than any afterparty’” you said, giving him a peck to the nose as you giggled. Joe’s hand found their way to the sides of your face, still propped up on his forearms.

“Let’s get you cleaned up baby,” Joe said as he picked you up in his arms to bring you into the bathroom. Your body felt tired, but your desire was still high.

“Round two in the shower?” you questioned, wiggling your eyebrows at him making him let out a laugh and you to pout, “I didn't get to reward you properly. Someone was too caught up in my pussy to let me.”

“Let’s get in there first and go from there you minx, a man needs a moment to recover.”

[rafesangelita]

♡ deciding to take a ride on the ‘tunnel of love’ roller coaster at the annual valentine’s day fair, rafe happens to catch you before it starts, conveniently locking himself in next to you. annoyed, you tell yourself you’ll be out and away from the man once the ride is over but (un)luckily for you, it just so happens to break down, leaving you two stuck together until it’s fixed..

warnings: one sided enemies to lovers (reader is the one who can’t stand rafe lol), forced proximity, teasing, flirty banter, slight angst (just a teeny tiny bit, it’s literally almost nonexistent), light fluff

a/n: now presenting… ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE’ 🤍 my town just so happens to be having a valentine’s day fair.. maybe (hopefully) i’ll go!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.4k

[7:57 PM] bestie ♡: it looks like kelce is going to take me out for v-day after all!! don’t wait for me, i’ll catch up soon, promise!

you had just bought an extra large funnel cake for you and your best friend to share when you read her text, your sugary sweet smile faltering as you took a seat at a nearby bench. “more for me, i guess..” you sighed, feeling a little bit silly at the fact that you sat here by yourself when everyone who passed you by was either in a group setting or hand in hand with someone who was most likely their significant other.

you picked at the fried goodness, not really feeling as festive as you were just two minutes ago. “yo, y/n!” you recognized the voice before you even looked up, your eyes immediately rolling as none other than rafe ‘insufferable daddy’s money’ cameron made his way over to you. ‘please let this be quick..’ you whispered under your breath, not sparing the man a single glance as he plopped down ridiculously close to you.

“what do you want, rafe?” he smiled when he heard his name roll off of your tongue, his muscular arm draping across your shoulders as his mouth dropped next to your ear. “can you at least act like you could tolerate me?” you scoffed, shrugging him off. “no, i can’t,” you finally looked at him, “because even that is too difficult to do.” he swallowed thickly, feeling slightly defeated before he went for the funnel cake that sat in your lap.

“i’m really not that bad, i’ll make you realize that soon.” rafe was also too confident and cocky for your liking— more reasons you could add to your seemingly never ending list as to why you think you two would never work out.

“i highly doubt that.” rafe was licking powdered sugar off of his fingers when you met his gaze again, your eyes flickering down to his tongue. the one thing that you couldn’t put on your list was that he wasn’t hot. anyone with eyes can tell you that rafe was insanely attractive, but of course, you’d never admit that to him out loud.. or so you thought. “you’re staring.” he smiled when he saw that your eyes stayed trained on his mouth, a smug expression taking over his features.

you blinked away, deciding you had enough chit-chat for one night. “in your dreams, ‘cameron.” rafe watched you get up from your seat, gladly taking the funnel cake you basically shoved into his hands. “why, thank you.” he took another piece, popping it into his mouth. you flashed him a fake smile before adjusting the strap of your crossbody purse. “i’ll see you around!” he called out, waving obnoxiously in your direction. “no you won’t!” you whispered to yourself, deciding to explore the fair a bit more.

little did you know conversation between you and rafe was far from over.

you walked around the fair grounds for almost fifteen more minutes before you had decided you were better off at home eating some greasy takeout and having a rom-com movie marathon in nothing but your comfy pj’s.

just as you were on your way to the exit, a flashing heart with the words ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE.. find your lover inside!’ caught your attention. deciding you’d at least inquire about it, you walked up to the ride operator and asked away. “excuse me! hi, i was just wondering what does the whole ‘find your lover inside!’ thing mean?” the woman lit up as if she had been dying to answer this question.

“so basically there’s another roller coaster coming from the other side, and once you two meet inside, the ride will stop for two minutes before coming back out to the respective entrances.” she explained. “so it’s like speed dating?” you smiled, the idea enthralling you. “yeah, that’s exactly it!” she nodded. you weighed out your options and decided a little excitement wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“i’m suprised you don’t have a line, how much is it to get on?” you took your wallet out of your purse as she replied. “if you have a full-access wristband it’s free, but if not then it’ll be five dollars exactly.” you handed over the small bill, smiling to yourself as she let you through the metal gate. “it looks like two people can fit in here—” just as you stepped in, rafe came running from the opposite direction.

“stop the ride!” he shouted, his chest rising and falling as he bent over to catch his breath. you blinked. “it’s not even on, you drama queen.” taking a seat, you were about to pull the metal bar over your lap before he shouted again. “i’ll give you fifty bucks if you let me get on with her!” you crossed your arms over your chest, not expecting the ride operator to actually let him in. “seriously?!” you gasped when he walked through, flashing you a wink.

“sorry!” she pushed the guardrail over you and rafe until it locked in place before starting the ride. “this will all be over in two minutes.” you glared at him, trying to scoot as many centimeters away from him as you could. “that’s fine with me.” he shrugged. he leaned back in the cart, red and pink flashing lights illuminating the space in which you two rolled into slowly.

rafe kept his eyes on you, watching as you avoided his gaze. “why don’t you like me? serious question..” you sighed, finally giving him your full undivided attention. you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. “what?” you acted like you didn’t hear him the first time, wracking your brain for any kind of answer. he smiled teasingly, pointing a finger at you. “i asked you why you don’t like me and you can’t even answer me!” you waved him off, facing the other way to hide the smile on your lips.

truthfully, you didn’t really know who rafe was. like just by himself as an individual. you knew that his friends were all assholes though, including the one who your best friend was willing to drop everything for. “i hate your friends,” you started, “and you are who you keep company with, sooo..” rafe cleared his throat as the roller coaster came to a stop. the inside of the ‘love tunnel’ was lit up with baby cherubs along the walls, red hearts and fairy lights adorning the interior.

“me and my friends are very different from each other.. i think you’d be surprised.” you hummed, adjusting the pendant on your necklace. “maybe..” the other roller coaster cart strolled in from the other side, the seats empty. “i guess it’s a good thing that i tagged along, since you would’ve been all by yourself if i didn’t.”

you glanced over at him, his blue eyes standing out in the pinkish lighting. “..yeah, i guess.” rafe’s head shot up as soon as the words left your mouth. “you really think so?” he scooted closer, the action making you laugh. “don’t push it.” you warned him, in which he held his hands up defensively. “okay, okay!” rafe had this smitten look on his face as if making you smile was his life’s greatest achievement.

“so you told me why you didn’t like me, which is fair, but i want a real chance at proving you wrong. can you at least give me that?” rafe hesitantly rested a hand on your knee, the hopeful look in his eyes making your heart melt into a soft puddle of mush. “hmm..” you pretended to think, the anticipation making rafe’s leg bounce. “okay. only under one condition though..” rafe nodded frantically.

“anything.”

“tell me why you like me so much when i avoid you like the plague, and never seemingly look in your direction.. like ever.” the man next to you snorted. “you want me to go down my full list? ‘cause we’ll be sitting here all night—” just then, the ride operator’s voice boomed through the intercom speakers from inside the tunnel. “hi, i’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re having some technical difficulties and my electrician guy says it’ll be at least an hour or two before you could leave. i promise to issue a full refund once you two are off.”

you and rafe looked at each other half concerned and half amused. “..so, you were saying?”

[purifiedclitoris69]

Statements

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Shield agent!reader

Summary: Assumptions are made about the relationship you have with Natasha, so you took it upon yourself to make a statement :)

Your relationship with Natasha is built on years of trust, mutual respect, and an unspoken understanding that comes from living in the shadows of espionage. You met when she first joined SHIELD, and while she was still finding her footing within the organization, you were already established as a specialist sniper—someone who worked alone, took the impossible shots, and disappeared before anyone even knew you were there.

At first, your relationship was purely professional. You recognized each other as dangerous and highly capable, but there was always a quiet pull between you. Over time, through shared missions, late-night debriefs, and the rare moments of quiet in a world full of chaos, that pull became something more. It wasn’t dramatic or rushed—it was a slow burn, a natural evolution of two people who understood each other better than most and yearned to show one another a genuine love.

Now, after almost 3 years together, your bond is unshakable. While the Avengers see you around the compound, they don’t truly know the depth of what you and Natasha have. They assume your relationship is casual, just a convenience in a life full of uncertainty. But in reality, Natasha loves you fiercely, and you love her just as much. You’re her safe place, the person she trusts with the parts of herself she doesn’t show anyone else. When the world feels too heavy, she turns to you—not for protection, because she doesn’t need it, but for the rare comfort of knowing she’s not alone.

You don’t need grand gestures or constant declarations. Your love is in the quiet moments—the way she always finds her way to you after a mission, the way you instinctively reach for her hand under the table, the way she relaxes against you when no one is watching. To the outside world, you might just be another agent who occasionally lingers at the compound. But to Natasha, you’re home.

—————————-———

Wanda was the first to recognize the depth of your relationship.

It was early—early enough that most of the team was still asleep or barely functioning. The compound was quiet, save for the soft hum of the coffee machine in the kitchen. You stood by the counter, leaning against it, eyes still heavy with sleep as you waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

Natasha, still in her sleep shorts and one of your old SHIELD t-shirts, wandered in with a yawn, her hair slightly tousled from sleep. She didn’t say anything as she approached—you felt her presence before you saw her. Without hesitation, she walked straight into your space, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face into your chest.

"Mm. Too early," she mumbled against you.

You huffed a quiet laugh, your hand instinctively coming up to rub slow, soothing circles on her back. "You say that every morning, but you’re always up before me."

She hummed but didn’t respond, just tightening her grip around you as if she could steal some of your warmth. You didn’t mind. In fact, moments like this were your favorite—the ones where she let her guard down, where she wasn’t the Black Widow or an Avenger, just Natasha, just yours.

Neither of you noticed Wanda standing by the doorway, frozen mid-step. She had come in for coffee but stopped in her tracks at the sight of Natasha—fierce, guarded Natasha—melted completely against you.

Wanda had always assumed your relationship was casual. Everyone had. You weren’t around often, and Natasha never entertained deep conversations about her personal life. But standing there, watching the way she clung to you, the way your hand moved over her back with the kind of practiced ease that spoke of years of familiarity, Wanda realized they had all been wrong.

This wasn’t casual. This was love—deep, unwavering, and so achingly real.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but eventually, Natasha stirred, tilting her head up to look at you. "Coffee ready?"

"Almost," you murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. The gesture was so gentle, so natural, that Wanda almost felt like she was intruding.

Before Natasha could move away, you leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her forehead. "Go sit. I’ll bring you a cup."

Natasha didn’t argue, just gave you a sleepy, content smile before releasing you and making her way to the kitchen table.

Wanda finally decided to make her presence known, clearing her throat as she stepped fully into the kitchen. "Morning," she greeted, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips as she grabbed a mug and you unpromptedly filled it for her greeting her with a kind smile and filling Nat’s next, starting another pot for anyone else who might want it.

Natasha, already seated, just raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Wanda glanced between the two of you, then just shook her head, her smirk widening. "Nothing. Just... you two are cute," she blew on her coffee.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. Meanwhile, you simply handed Natasha her coffee before grabbing your own along with d the morning crossword, completely unfazed.

Wanda took a sip of her drink, still smiling to herself. Maybe the rest of the team had been blind to it, but now she knew the truth—Natasha Romanoff was hopelessly, completely in love.

—————————-———

The next person was Steve. You had gone on another lengthy mission; it had kept you away for weeks longer than either of you liked. You had kept in touch when you could, brief calls and cryptic messages, but it wasn’t the same. And now, finally, you were back.

Steve wasn’t looking for either of you when he entered the common room. He had just been passing through, planning to grab something from the kitchen before heading to the gym. But as soon as he stepped in, he stopped in his tracks.

The lights were dim, the soft crackle of the old record player filling the space. An oldie—something slow, something familiar. And in the center of the room, barely swaying to the rhythm, was you and Natasha.

She was pressed against you, arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders, her fingers idly playing with the hairs at the back of your neck. Your hands rested on her waist, holding her close as if you needed to feel her warmth to believe this moment had finally come after weeks of waiting.

Neither of you spoke. There was no need. The way Natasha clung to you, the way you held her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, it said everything.

Steve had never seen her like this. Sure, he had seen her care about people, had seen her protect and fight for those she loved. But this? This was different. This was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, completely at peace. Safe. Home.

He felt like he was intruding on something sacred, so he took a quiet step back, turning to leave—only to nearly bump into Bucky.

“what’s with the face?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at the look on Steve’s face.

Steve exhaled, shaking his head with a slight chuckle. “Nothing, just—” He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at Bucky. “You and Sam better stop checking Nat out so much.”

Bucky scoffed. “What? We don’t—”

Steve gave him a knowing look.

Bucky shifted. “Alright, maybe Sam does. I just—y’know, appreciate a good—”

Steve cut him off. “Don’t.”

Bucky smirked. “Okay, but why the sudden warning?”

Steve shook his head again, that small smile still lingering. “Because they’re in love. Like, really in love.”

Bucky frowned. “I mean, yeah, I figured they were serious, but—”

“No,” Steve interrupted. “Not just serious. Not just together. In love.”

Bucky studied him for a second, something unreadable passing over his expression before he nodded. “Alright,” he said simply.

Steve gave him a final glance before clapping him on the shoulder and walking off, leaving Bucky standing there, a little quieter than usual.

Because if what Steve was saying was true, then it wasn’t just Natasha they had underestimated. It was you.

—————————-———

The true statement was made in the compound gym.

The gym was alive with movement—punching bags swinging, the clatter of weights, and the rhythmic sound of fists meeting training dummies. You had just finished some shooting drills when you decided to swing by, knowing exactly where Natasha would be.

Sure enough, there she was, moving like a force of nature. Every strike was precise, every kick sharp. She was a sight to behold—dangerous, powerful, and effortlessly graceful.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought so.

You noticed Sam and Bucky standing off to the side, arms crossed, observing her with a little too much focus. Eyes tracked her every movement, and while you weren’t necessarily the jealous type, and were well aware how gorgeous Natasha is; people couldn't help but be enamoured by her, however weren’t about to let this slide.

You strolled up beside them, tilting your head. "Enjoying the view?"

Bucky, to his credit, immediately raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, don’t look at me. I was admiring the technique, alright?" He nodded toward Natasha. "She’s one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen."

You eyed him for a second before nodding, accepting the explanation. Bucky was a lot of things, but he wasn’t dumb enough to cross that line.

Sam, however—

"Look, I’m just saying," Sam started, his eyes still trailing Natasha as she wiped sweat off her forehead. "It’s not my fault she moves like that. That’s a distraction."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Sam glanced at you, then seemed to realize way too late that he had just said that to the one person who could make him regret it. "Uh—"

"You know what?" You rolled your shoulders, tossing your towel aside. "I feel like I haven’t sparred in a while. What do you say, Wilson? A little one-on-one?"

Sam hesitated, looking between you and Bucky, who just took a step back, clearly enjoying the fact that he wasn’t involved.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Sam asked, crossing his arms. "I mean, no offense, but I’ve got wings, I’ve fought aliens—"

"You’re standing here watching my girlfriend train. I just want to see how you train too." you cut in, smirking.

The room went silent for half a beat before Bucky let out a low chuckle. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Clint grinned, nudging Wanda. "Five bucks says Sam regrets this immediately."

Natasha, who had been too focused on training to notice the exchange earlier, finally turned toward the group, eyebrow raised. "What’s going on?"

Wanda smirked. "Your sniper just challenged Sam to a sparring match because he got caught staring at you."

Natasha let out a small laugh, tossing a towel over her shoulder as she walked closer. "Oh, I have to see this."

Sam exhaled, shaking his head. "Y’all are ridiculous. But fine. Let’s do this."

You stepped onto the mat, rolling your shoulders as Sam joined you. He gave a cocky smirk. "You sure you wanna do this? I am pretty fast, you know."

You just smirked back. "We’ll see."

Steve, ever the responsible one, clapped his hands. "Alright, keep it clean."

The second Steve gave the go-ahead, you moved—fast.

Sam barely had time to react before you were already in his space, effortlessly dodging his first strike. You didn’t just block—you controlled. Every punch he threw was sidestepped. Every kick, redirected. You weren’t just fighting Sam. You were toying with him.

The smirk on his face started fading as frustration crept in. "Damn," he muttered, throwing another punch. You caught his wrist, twisting him off-balance before sweeping his legs out from under him.

Sam hit the mat with a grunt.

From the sidelines, Bucky let out a whistle. "That looked like it hurt."

Clint was grinning beside Nat.

Wanda shook her head in amusement. "He walked right into that one."

Sam groaned but pushed himself back up. "Alright, alright—lucky shot."

You didn’t respond. You just motioned for him to try again.

This time, he put more effort into his attacks, but it didn’t make a difference. Every move he made, you were already three steps ahead. You parried, countered, redirected—all with ease.

After a few more humiliating takedowns, Sam finally dropped to the mat, breathing hard, lying flat on his back. "Damn. Alright. Message received."

You crouched down beside him, grinning. "Good. Maybe next time, you’ll keep your eyes to yourself playboy"

Sam exhaled, closing his eyes. "Noted."

You stood up, offering him a hand. He took it, groaning as he got to his feet. "You really don’t like people looking at her, huh?"

You shrugged, "I know she can handle herself, I just felt like making a statement today," you smiled stepping off the mat and walking to Nat

"Possessive looks good on you," Natasha said with her signature smirk

Without a second thought, you grabbed her by the waist and kissed her—really kissed her—right in front of everyone. It was slow, deep, and left no room for doubt. Natasha, normally composed, melted into you, gripping your bicep to steady herself.

When you pulled back, she was a little breathless, a rare blush dusting her cheeks.

You smirked. "See you at dinner, love."

And with that, you walked off, leaving Natasha still catching her breath.

Clint let out a low whistle. "Damn."

Wanda smirked. "That was a statement,” Natasha throwing a towel at her, mumbling out a whatever and heading to the lockers

Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder. "So, you still gonna stare?"

Sam rolled his eyes taking a tired seat on the bench "I hate you all."

[latanyalove]

Sick Day

Summary: You're sick but you don't want to disturb your busy captain and the crew.

Song: Coming Down by The Weeknd

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

The salt spray stung your face as you clung to the railing of the submarine, Polar Tang. The familiar rocking of the vessel usually soothed you, but today, it churned your stomach with a vengeance. Each swell sent a wave of nausea crashing over you, and the lump in your throat threatened to betray the secret you’d been desperately trying to keep.

“Another beautiful day at sea, eh, Y/N?” Shachi called out, his ever-present grin plastered on his face. He approached, a length of rope slung over his shoulder, and threw an arm around your shoulders.

His touch, normally comforting, felt like a brand on your feverish skin.

“Gorgeous,” you managed, forcing a smile and leaning away slightly. “Just taking in the fresh air.”

Shachi, bless his oblivious heart, seemed to buy it. “That’s the spirit! Captain’s in the library, buried in some ancient medical text again. Probably trying to find a cure for boredom.” He chuckled. “Don’t think he’s slept in days. You should see the bags under his eyes.”

Your heart clenched. That was precisely the reason you were out here, battling the waves and the growing weakness in your limbs. Trafalgar Law, your…everything, was already overworked.

He dedicated his life to the well-being of his crew, pushing himself relentlessly. The last thing he needed was you adding to his burden with a simple cold.

“Maybe I will,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched. “Catch up on some reading myself.” You detached yourself from Shachi’s grip and hurried below deck, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in your hands.

The air inside the submarine was thick and humid, doing little to alleviate the chill that had settled deep in your bones. You bypassed the library – Law’s sanctuary – and stumbled toward your shared cabin.

Collapsing onto the bunk, you pulled the threadbare blanket over yourself, trying to ignore the throbbing in your head and the scratchiness in your throat.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

Bepo’s anxious voice cut through the fog in your brain. You peeked out from under the blanket to see the massive polar bear crouched in the doorway, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Fine, Bepo, fine,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket higher. “Just a little tired.”

Bepo wasn’t stupid. He knew you better than anyone, barring Law himself. He padded closer, his large paws silent on the metal floor.

“Your face is flushed,” he said, his voice laced with worry. “And you’re shivering. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just a little seasick,” you insisted, turning your face to the wall. “It’ll pass.”

Bepo hesitated, his ears twitching. “Maybe…maybe I should tell Captain.”

Panic flared in your chest. “No! Bepo, please don’t. He’s so busy. It’s nothing, I promise. Just let me rest.”

You knew you were being unreasonable, but desperation lent your voice a sharp edge. Bepo, always sensitive to your feelings, retreated slightly.

“Okay, Y/N,” he said softly. “But…but if you need anything, anything, you promise you’ll tell me?”

“I promise,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

Days blurred into a miserable cycle of stolen naps, forced smiles, and growing weakness. You avoided Law as much as possible, knowing he’d see through your charade in an instant.

You choked down your meals, forcing yourself to socialize with the crew, all the while battling a fever that threatened to consume you.

The hardest part was keeping your distance from Law. You craved his touch, his presence, his unwavering gaze. He was your anchor, your safe harbor in a turbulent world.

But you couldn't risk him seeing you like this, a pathetic, sniffling mess. You’d rather suffer in silence than burden him with your trivial illness.

One evening, as you were attempting to sneak a cup of herbal tea – Penguin’s well-intentioned remedy, despite your protests – Law’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N.”

You froze, your back to him. The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, a different kind of shiver than the one that racked your body with fever.

“Captain,” you said, turning around slowly. You tried to appear nonchalant, leaning against the counter as if you weren’t desperately trying to keep from collapsing.

He stood in the doorway to the galley, his dark eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. He was even more tired than Shachi had described, the lines around his mouth etched deeper, the shadows under his eyes more pronounced.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated, his voice flat.

You forced a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Captain. I’ve just been…busy.”

He raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge. “Busy doing what, exactly? Trying to master the art of disappearing?”

You swallowed, your throat burning. “I…I just wanted to give you space. You’ve been working so hard.”

He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “And you think hiding from me is helping?” He reached out, his fingers brushing against your forehead. You flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re burning up,” he said, his voice laced with concern. “How long have you been sick?”

The fight drained out of you. There was no point in denying it any longer. He knew. He always knew.

“A few days,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

His grip on your forehead tightened slightly. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

You looked up at him, your eyes pleading. “I didn’t want to bother you. You have so much to worry about.”

He sighed, a sound of weary exasperation. “Y/N…" He took your hand in his, his thumb stroking the back of your palm. "You are never a bother. Ever. Do you understand?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “But…”

“No buts,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “Come with me.”

He led you back to your cabin, carefully helping you onto the bunk. He didn’t say anything as he peeled off your clammy clothes and wrapped you in a fresh blanket. He worked with a practiced efficiency, his movements precise and gentle.

He summoned Bepo, who scurried off to fetch a basin of cool water and some clean cloths. Law sat beside you, dipping the cloth in the water and gently dabbing your forehead.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked again, his voice softer this time.

Your voice was hoarse. “I was scared.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and something else, something that made your heart flutter despite the throbbing in your head.

“Scared of what?”

“That you’d be angry,” you whispered. “That I’d be a burden.”

He shook his head, his dark hair falling across his forehead. “You could never be a burden, Y/N. And I could never be angry at you for being sick.”

He continued to bathe your forehead in silence, his touch soothing and comforting. You closed your eyes, letting the cool water and his presence wash over you.

“From now on,” he said softly, after a long silence, “no more secrets. Not from me. Understand?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude.

“I understand,” you whispered.

The next few days were a blur of fever dreams and Law’s unwavering care. He made you herbal teas, insisted on you resting, and even managed to coax a few bites of bland food past your protesting stomach.

The crew tiptoed around the cabin, whispering their well wishes and leaving small gifts – a rare orange, a hand-knitted scarf, a crudely drawn get-well card from Bepo.

Slowly, the fever began to break. The throbbing in your head subsided, and the nausea faded. You started to feel like yourself again, a little weak perhaps, but alive.

One evening, as you sat propped up in bed, reading a worn paperback, Law entered the cabin. He carried a tray with a steaming mug and a plate of crackers.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Much better, thank you," you replied, offering a tentative smile. "I'm almost back to normal."

He placed the tray on the small table beside your bed. "Good. I was starting to miss your sharp wit and irritating questions."

You chuckled, a genuine sound this time. "Irritating questions? You're just jealous of my superior intellect."

He smirked, a rare and precious sight. "Of course. That must be it." He leaned back against the wall, watching you as you sipped your tea. The silence that followed was comfortable, a familiar rhythm between you.

"Law," you began hesitantly, "I wanted to thank you. For everything."

He raised an eyebrow. "There's no need. I just did what anyone would have done."

You shook your head. "No, you went above and beyond. You could have left it to the others, but you didn't. You took care of me. And I... I really appreciate it."

He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer. "Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious, "you're important to me."

Your heart leaped in your chest. "I –"

He cut you off, continuing before you could overthink and ruin the moment. "You're smart, resourceful, and you have this infuriating way of always knowing exactly what to say to piss me off, but also... to make me laugh. You bring a unique perspective to the crew. You challenge me."

He paused, his eyes searching yours. "And," he swallowed hard, "you're… kind of… essential to me."

You stared at him, speechless. Essential? Was he… could he possibly…

He seemed to realize what he had said, the implications of his words hitting him like a tidal wave. His cheeks flushed a faint pink, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair.

"I… I didn’t mean to say that," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"You didn't?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked back at you, his gaze intense. "Well, I mean… I did. But… I didn't mean to say it like that. It just sort of… came out." He was a mess, a far cry from the stoic, collected captain you knew him to be.

You couldn't help but laugh, a nervous, shaky sound. "So, you're saying you didn't intend to accidentally confess your… whatever this is, to me, while I'm still recovering from a fever?"

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "This is a disaster."

You reached out and took his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. "Hey," you said softly, "it's okay. It's more than okay."

He looked up, his eyes filled with doubt and a glimmer of hope. "It is?"

You squeezed his hand. "Yes, Law. It is. Because… I feel the same way."

His eyes widened. "You… you do?"

You nodded, your heart soaring. "I do. I have for a long time."

A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features. It was the most genuine, unguarded smile you had ever seen. He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear.

"Then maybe," he whispered, "this accidental confession wasn't such a disaster after all."

He leaned in closer, and you closed your eyes, anticipation flooding your senses. His lips brushed against yours, a tentative, feather-light touch. It was a promise, a beginning.

The door to the cabin slid open with a bang, and Penguin's head popped in. "Captain! We've spotted–" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the scene. "Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

Law pulled away, his cheeks flushing again. "Yes, Penguin. You are."

Penguin backed out of the cabin, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and amusement. "Right. Carry on, then. I'll just… tell the others to steer clear." He disappeared, leaving you and Law alone once more.

You both burst out laughing, the tension finally dissipating. The world outside your tiny cabin seemed to fade away, leaving only you and Law, the quiet hum of the Polar Tang, and the undeniable spark of something new, something real, igniting between you.

The fever might have been a curse, but it had inadvertently led to a cure for a different kind of ailment, one you had both been suffering from in silence for far too long.

And maybe, just maybe, accidental confessions were the best kind. . . .

[carisa-ironfell]

If you're going to church just for the "sermon" and want to get pissy about getting "lectured" instead, you're not actually listening to what's being said (or your pastor isn't saying the right things) and you definitely aren't going to church for the right reasons. It's just autopilot at that point, just a pointless ritual that doesn't mean anything. And I know this from experience because that's WHY I stopped going to church. I wasn't getting anything useful out of it, and the environment was taxing my mental health instead of helping me heal. I wasn't growing, I was just miserable and angry and bitter.

The point of church, as I've always understood it ever since I was little, is to connect with the other members of your community and help each other learn and grow and continuously become better people, to follow Jesus' teachings and LOVE people. You go to church to LEARN, and when needed, to be guided back to the right path by your pastor and/or your peers. That's literally their job. For example, most of Paul's writings. (Paraphrased: Y'all are acting crazy, stop doing that. Here's how to fix it.)

You don't have to agree with others' choices in order to love them, and something that a LOT of Christians seem to miss is: if you're not getting through to someone and you can't change their mind, let it go. The seed is planted, and there's a chance that years down the line, God will speak to that person and they'll be ready to listen. Shouting in their face (literally or figuratively) is only going to make them get defensive and shut down and push that time further away.

Anyway. No one who claims to be Christian or any kind of servant of God should be rejoicing in mass slaughter. And I've had to listen to "Christians" rant about how great and amazing the nightmare in Palestine and other Middle Eastern conflicts are, and it makes me sick. Whether you agree with them or not, people don't deserve to die like that. And if there's a member of a church who tries to implore the president to do something positive about that whole disaster, don't get pissed off with them, because they seem to understand the teachings better than you do.

I don't really consider myself Christian. I want nothing to do with that (generalized) group of people, because I have yet to meet any of them who make sense to me and can help me grow. I believe in God, I do my best to act in ways that reflects Him, but until the church starts shaping up and actually behaving with love and compassion instead of hatred, I'm not involving myself with them. It's dismal to watch and it makes my heart ache. And I can only imagine God probably feels the same way in a lot of cases.

I wasn't expecting to say this much ._. Uhh, sorry if anyone actually reads this lol Be safe and well! With love, Reggie 🤍

The lack of self-awareness is truly astounding.

[rafayelxsylusho]

How do the LADS men fu¢k the jealousy out of you.

Xavier/Rafayel

Already working on Caleb/Zayne/Sylus

TW: SMUT SMUT AND MORE SMUT.

Xavier 🌟🌟

The training session had been grueling, as all of all of your sessions tended to be. You pushed the new recruits hard, demanding perfection in every drill and exercise. They needed to be in peak form to face the horrors that awaited them out there in the No-Hunt Zones, battling the vicious creatures known as Wanderers.

The training session had wrapped up, and Xavier was wiping sweat from his brow with a towel, his chest heaving slightly from exertion. That's when you noticed the gaggle of giggling girls from his team hovering nearby, all batting their eyelashes at him and whispering to each other.

Typical. You could practically see the hearts floating above their heads as they fawned over their fearless leader. It was always the same - his reputation as the most successful Hunter in Linkon City tended to have that effect on people. Especially the young, impressionable rookie girls fresh out of training.

As you watched the scene unfold, a flicker of annoyance flashed across your face. The way they kept asking question after question, giggling at every word that fell from Xavier's lips, was starting to get on your nerves.

Don't they have anything better to do than hang around him like a pack of lovestruck puppies? you thought to yourself, feeling a twinge of possessiveness. This was hardly the first time you'd witnessed such a display, but it was no less grating.

Shaking your head, you decided to head to the locker room and get cleaned up after the long day of training. As you walked away, you couldn't help but overhear snippets of their conversation:

"...did you really kill 70,000 Wanderers all by yourself?" a blonde girl gushed.

"And with a sword, no less! I can't believe you wield it with such skill and precision," another chimed in.

You turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over your body as you tried to wash away the irritation. But even as you stood there, the image of them hanging off Xavier kept flashing through your mind.

Little did you know, the seeds of jealousy planted by their behavior would only grow more tangled and thorny as the day went on.

As you stepped out of the shower and started dressing you overheard two of the girls from Xavier's team. They were huddled together, whispering and giggling, clearly gossiping about their beloved leader. You froze, not wanting them to know you were within earshot, as they continued their hushed conversation.

"I swear, I've seen him around the headquarters a bunch of times, but he's never mentioned anyone special," the first girl said, her voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and envy. "Maybe he's just too focused on hunting to settle down with anyone."

"I don't know, Sarah. A guy like that? I bet he has girls throwing themselves at him all the time," the second girl, whose name you didn't catch, speculated. "Did you see the way some of the new recruits were fawning over him today? I'm surprised he can even walk with all that ego inflating!"

Just then, the second girl's eyes widened. "Oh my god, what if... what if he's actually gay? That would explain why he's never been spotted with anyone."

Sarah scoffed. "No way. I've seen the way he looks at y/n. Trust me, he's into girls... and I don't think he's the type to hide it if he was seeing someone."

"Well, if he's not taken, then maybe one of us should make a move. I mean, he's just so... captivating. Those piercing blue eyes, that chiseled jaw, that amazing body..." She sighed dreamily.

Her friend nodded eagerly, a similar starstruck look on her face. "I know, right? And he's so brave and skilled too. He's like, the total package."

Sarah giggled conspiratorially. "So what do you say, Lisa? Should we have a little competition to see who can get his attention first? Loser buys the winner dinner at that fancy new restaurant downtown?"

Lisa licked her lips, a determined glint in her eye. "You're on, Sarah. But I warn you - I play to win. That hottie is mine!"

You slam the door of your locker hard enough to make the metal clang and rattle. The room fell silent for a moment before the whispers restarted, more subdued this time.

As you exited the locker room, you couldn't shake the feeling that their stupid gossip had only added to the growing uneasiness you felt about Xavier's apparent single status.

Why hasn't he mentioned me? Does he not want people to know about us? Or is he just so used to women throwing themselves at him that he doesn't think he needs to bother? you wondered, your mind racing with increasingly paranoid thoughts

As you stepped out of the locker room, you were greeted by the sight of Xavier leaning casually against the wall across the hall, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked up as you approached, a warm smile spreading across his handsome face.

"Hey there," he greeted you, pushing off from the wall and falling into step beside you as you made your way out of the Hunters Association headquarters. "I was starting to think you might have snuck out the back way to avoid me." He chuckled, playfully nudging your shoulder with his own.

As you walked together, you couldn't shake the lingering irritation from overhearing the other girls' conversation in the locker room. You knew it was silly to be jealous, but you couldn't help feeling a flare of possessiveness at the thought of anyone else trying to stake a claim on Xavier.

As the two of you walked hand in hand towards your apartment building, you decided to bring up the elephant in the room. Glancing up at Xavier, you asked him about his thoughts on the day's training session with his team.

"How was the training with your team today? How did it go?" you inquired, genuinely interested in his take on the day's events.

Xavier was quiet for a moment, considering his response. "It went well, actually. There were a couple of new girls who really stood out, to be honest. They were strong, quick learners, and seemed to have a real knack for the techniques I was teaching."

"Do you think they have a real shot at making it as Hunters?" you asked, genuinely curious what Xavier thought of their potential.

He was silent for a long moment, considering his next words carefully. "Hard to say. They have the physical capability, but being a successful Hunter takes so much more than just brawn. It requires heart, determination, and a deep commitment to protecting others. We'll see how they hold up under pressure in the long run."

Without really thinking about it, you let go of his hand, feeling the need to put some distance between the two of you.

"I think I'm going to sleep early tonight," you announced abruptly, hoping to cut the conversation short before your jealousy got the better of you. "I'm feeling really tired after today."

Xavier looked down at you, a flicker of concern in his blue eyes as he sensed the sudden shift in your mood. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, reaching out to gently squeeze your shoulder. "You've been quiet since we left the headquarters. Did something happen that I should know about?"

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "Look, I know today was a long day, but I was thinking... what if we stopped by that little hotpot place on our way home? We could share a meal and unwind a bit before calling it a night. My treat, of course."

Xavier smiled at you, hoping to coax a similar smile out of you in return. "Unless you'd rather just head home and collapse into bed. I completely understand if you're too tired to go out tonight." He kept his tone light and casual, not wanting to pressure you into anything, but secretly hoping you would agree to spend a little more time with him before the night was over.

As the jealous thoughts swirled in your mind, you felt your grip on your temper slipping away. Without really considering the harshness of your words, you blurted out your next sentence, your voice dripping with an unintended bitterness.

"No, but I think Sarah or Lisa would be more than happy to go with you instead," you snapped, immediately regretting the sharpness of your tone. As soon as the words left your lips, you wanted to take them back, but it was too late.

Xavier's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden outburst, and he stopped walking abruptly, forcing you to halt alongside him. He looked down at you, a mix of confusion and hurt flashing across his handsome face as he tried to process your jealous accusation.

"What are you talking about, y/n?" he asked slowly, his brow furrowing with concern. "Sarah and Lisa are on my team, yes, but that doesn't mean I have any intention of asking them out. Why would you even say something like that?"

Xavier stared at you, taken aback by your sudden outburst of jealousy. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off abruptly.

"Forget it, okay? Just... just forget I said anything," you muttered, feeling your cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. You couldn't believe you had let your jealousy get the best of you like that.

Without waiting for his response, you spun on your heel and stormed off down the sidewalk, leaving Xavier standing there looking bewildered. You knew you were being irrational, but you couldn't seem to control the green-eyed monster raging inside you.

As you neared your apartment building, you hesitated, part of you wanting to go back and apologize to Xavier, and another part of you stubbornly insisting that he should be the one to come after you, to reassure you that you were the only one he wanted.

Maybe I should just go inside and cool off, you thought to yourself, knowing that you were still too worked up to have a rational conversation at the moment. I'll apologize properly later, when I'm not so angry and jealous anymore.

As you fumbled with the key, your hands still shaking slightly from the lingering anger and emotion, you finally managed to unlock the door to your apartment. Stepping inside, you quickly turned to lock the door behind you, wanting nothing more than the solitude and safety of your private sanctuary.

But as your hand reached for the lock, you suddenly felt a presence behind you. Your heart leapt into your throat as you spun around, a gasp escaping your lips.

There, standing just a few feet inside the darkened apartment, was none other than Xavier. For a moment, you simply stared at him in shock, your eyes wide and your heart pounding in your chest. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, not the least of which was a fierce mix of relief and guilt.

Before you could even formulate an apology, Xavier began walking towards you with a determined stride. His blue eyes flashed with a mix of emotions - hurt, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite place. He stopped just a breath away from you, his tall frame looming over your own.

"Is that what you're going to do, y/n?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "You're going to act like a brat and accuse me of being interested in other girls, only to run off and try to slam the door in my face?"

Xavier shook his head slowly, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "I thought we were past this kind of jealousy and insecurity. I've never given you any reason to doubt me or question where my loyalties lie."

Xavier's grip tightened in your hair as he pulled you flush against his firm chest, his other hand coming up to grip your hip possessively. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his intense, smoldering gaze.

"Do you need a reminder of what you mean to me?" he growled, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

His lips crashed against yours in a searing, dominating kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you thoroughly, leaving no doubt as to his intentions.

When he finally pulled back, you were both left panting and flushed, your bodies pressed so tightly together that you could feel the rapid thumping of his heartbeat against your own.

"Only a fool would ever look at anyone else when they have you," Xavier rasped, his thumb brushing over your swollen lower lip. "You're all I see, y/n. You're all I want."

He stepped even closer, if that was possible, until you were pinned helplessly between his hard, muscular body and the wall behind you.

"I had other plans for tonight," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Like holding you close, feeding you a nice dinner, and then slowly, gently making love to you all night long until we both collapsed from exhaustion."

Xavier's hand slid from your hip to grip your ass, squeezing the supple flesh possessively as he ground his hardening cock against your belly. "But it seems like you need a different kind of reminder first."

His other hand released your hair to grip your jaw, tilting your head to the side to expose the column of your throat. "So I'm going to fuck the jealousy out of you," he growled, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "I'm going to fuck you so hard and so thoroughly that the only thought in your pretty little head will be my name."

Xavier's lips latched onto your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin as his hands roamed greedily over your curves. "And then, once I've erased every trace of doubt from your mind, I'm going to fuck you all over again, until you're drowning in pleasure and completely overwhelmed by the knowledge that I belong to you."

He nipped sharply at your earlobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. "Does that sound good, baby? Or do you need more convincing?" Xavier purred, his voice a sinful promise of all the deliciously wicked things he intended to do to your willing body.

Xavier silenced your attempted apology with another searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth and leaving you breathless. When he finally pulled back, his eyes flashed with a dark, hungry intensity.

"Apology not accepted," he growled, his voice rough with desire and a hint of anger. "You wanted to be a brat, so now you're going to be treated like one."

His hands made quick work of your clothes, practically tearing them from your body in his haste to bare your flesh to his greedy gaze. Buttons popped and fabric ripped, the sound of destruction filling the air as Xavier laid waste to your wardrobe.

In a matter of moments, you stood before him, naked and vulnerable, your skin flushed and tingling from his rough touches. Xavier drank in the sight of you, his eyes burning with a fierce, possessive hunger.

"Look at you," he rasped, his large hands skimming over your curves. "Feel how hard you make me, baby?" Xavier panted against your lips, his hips rolling in a slow, filthy grind. "You're going to take care of that later, with your cunt. But first..."

His fingers plunged deep inside your fluttering channel, pumping in and out of your tight heat with a punishing rhythm.

Xavier paused, his fingers still buried deep inside your clenching heat as he gazed at you with an intense, searching look. His brow furrowed as he studied your flushed and panting face, his thumb circling your clit with maddeningly light touches.

"Tell me what got you so jealous baby," he demanded, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. "I want to hear you say it out loud. I want to know exactly what made you doubt me, doubt us, like this."

His other hand slid up your side, cupping the soft swell of your breast, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, pinching and tugging at the sensitive peak until it stiffened into a hard, aching point.

“Ngh-Xav—” The whimpers just won’t stop spilling from your lips, his gaze drilling into your eyes and falling straight to your drenching cunt. “I- fuck-”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice a dark, commanding rumble.

"Talk to me like a big girl, y/n," he growled, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Use your words, baby. 

His fingers pumped faster inside your dripping cunt, his palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. The obscene sound of your arousal filled the room as Xavier fingered you hard and fast, determined to wring an answer from your lips.

"Sarah and Lisa they were saying.....ah fuckkk!" You try to tell him about what you heard but his fingers are still deep inside you hitting the perfect spot.

"Sarah and Lisa?" he repeated, a sharp edge to his voice. "You're jealous because of them? Because of my teammates?"

He withdrew his fingers from your clenching heat abruptly, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could protest, he spun you around and bent you over the arm of the couch, your bare ass and dripping pussy on full display.

Xavier delivered a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing through the room. "Let me make one thing crystal fucking clear," he snarled, rubbing the reddening flesh. "I. Am. Not. Interested. In. Them."

Another smack landed on your other cheek, harder than the first. "The only reason they were even talking to me was because we were discussing strategy and team dynamics. Nothing more, nothing less."

He gripped your hips punishingly, yanking you back against the thick ridge of his cock. "You're the only one I want, y/n. The only one I crave. The only one I fucking love." To punctuate his words, Xavier thrust his hips forward, grinding his clothed erection against your soaked folds.

Xavier knelt down behind you, his strong hands gripping your thighs and pushing your legs apart. He forced your knees to bend, opening you wide and exposing your glistening, needy sex to his hungry gaze.

"Keep these legs spread for me, baby," he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire."I want to see this pretty pussy as I eat it."

With that, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, savoring your tangy essence with a low moan. He licked and suckled at your folds, his skilled mouth reducing you to a writhing, mewling mess in record time.

He sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the swollen bud with expert precision. Two fingers plunged deep into your clenching channel, pumping in and out of your soaked heat.

"Mmm, sweet girl making such a mess" Xavier purred, his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh.

He spat directly onto your dripping, glistening folds, watching as fresh waves of your arousal gushed out to coat his chin and drip down onto the couch below. Without hesitation, he leaned in and began to lap at the slickness, sucking and slurping up every drop of your essence.

"Your taste is intoxicating," he groaned, his tongue delving deeper to plunder your fluttering channel. "I could spend hours feasting on this pretty pussy and never get enough."

Xavier's hands slid higher, gripping the globes of your ass and kneading the pliant flesh. He spread you wider, opening you fully to his relentless onslaught as he ate you like a man possessed.

"Please, don't stop," you whimper, your hips bucking needily against his face as you desperately seek more of that blissful friction.

Xavier pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal as he fixed you with a stern, disapproving glare. He released your thighs, allowing them to close with a soft, intimate sound, then you feel him gripping your hips and pulling you to straddle his lap.

"No," he said firmly, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Good girls get everything they want. Brats like you don't get to cum when they need it."

He punctuated his words with a sharp smack to your ass, the stinging pain sending a jolt through your body. Xavier rubbed the reddening flesh soothingly.

"Since you seem determined to act like a spoiled brat, I think it's only fitting that you be treated as one," he said, a wicked glint in his eye. "You can sit here and squirm on my lap, feeling my hard cock through my pants, until I decide you've learned your lesson."

Xavier's other hand slid up your spine, wrapping around the nape of your neck. He tilted your head to the side, exposing the slender column of your throat to his hungry mouth. He licked and nipped at the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing your pulse point.

He rocked his hips upwards, grinding his rigid length against your aching, empty sex. The thin fabric of his pants created a maddening barrier between you, allowing you to feel the shape and size of him but denying you the sweet friction you craved.

"Be a good brat and sit still," Xavier ordered, his voice a low, dominant rumble. "We have all night long for me to teach you the consequences of jealousy and insecurity."

Xavier's fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his thick, hard cock from his pants. The moment his length sprang out, he gripped your hips and lifted you slightly, allowing his shaft to slap against your dripping, swollen clit a couple times in quick succession.

"Feel that, baby?" he whispered, his voice rough and heavy with desire. "Feel how hard you make me? How much I want you?"

He pinched your nipple hard, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers as he continued his torturous teasing. Each pass of his cockhead over your aching clit sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, stoking the fire in your core.

His cockhead pushing against your entrance before sliding back up to bump against your clit. He set a maddeningly slow, teasing rhythm, denying you the deep penetration you desperately craved.

"Please..." you whimpered, your body writhing in his lap as you tried to chase more of that glorious friction. "Please, Xavier...I need...I need..."

"Need what, sweetgirl?" he purred, a wicked glint in his eye as he watched you squirm. "Tell me what you need. Use your words, brat."

His hand slid from your breast to your thigh, gripping it tightly as he spread your leg further to the side. This new position allowed him to grind the thick ridge of his cock directly against your dripping slit, the head catching on your entrance with each torturous thrust.

"Tell me how badly you want it," Xavier growled, his voice a dark, sinful rumble. "Tell me what it would feel like to have my big, hard cock stretching out your tight little cunt. Filling you up so deep and so fucking full..."

He punctuated his words with a sharp, sudden thrust, his cockhead popping inside your entrance before quickly pulling back out. The brief, fleeting sensation of fullness only served to heighten your desperate arousal and frustration.

Xavier's eyes darkened with lust as he watched your eyes flutter shut, your head lolling back in ecstasy with each maddeningly slow thrust. The needy, desperate sounds spilling from your lips only fueled his own desire, his cock throbbing and leaking against your soaked folds.

"That's it, baby," he purred, his voice a low, wicked rumble. "Let me hear how much you want it. Let me hear how badly you need my cock."

He gripped your thighs tighter, spreading your legs wider as he ground his hips against yours with ruthless precision. Each pass of his cockhead over your aching clit sent electric shocks of pleasure zipping up your spine, your back arching as you chased the sensation.

"Please, Xavier..." you whimpered, your voice breaking on a desperate moan. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so badly. I need you to fill me up and fuck me hard and don't stop until I'm screaming your name..."

"Since you asked so nicely, baby..." he growled against your lips, his voice rough and heavy with desire. "I suppose I can give you what you need."

Xavier gripped your hips tightly, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he lifted you up with a grunt of effort. He positioned your dripping, aching sex directly over his throbbing, engorged cock, the swollen head nudging against your entrance with a teasing promise of the pleasure to come.

With that, he surged upwards, driving his thick, pulsing shaft deep into your tight, clenching heat. Your body stretched deliciously around his girth as he hilts inside you, his heavy balls coming to rest against your ass with a lewd slap.

"FUCK!" you both screamed in unison as your bodies joined, your voices echoing off the walls.

Xavier gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he guided your movements. "That's it, baby. Ride me just like that," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Use these sexy legs and fuck yourself on my cock until you make yourself cum."

He leaned forward, capturing your nipple between his teeth. He bit down just hard enough to make you gasp, sending a jolt of pained pleasure straight to your core. At the same time, one of his hands slid around to grip your ass, spreading your cheeks and tilting your hips to take him even deeper.

"That's it. Fuck...I can feel you getting closer," he groaned, his hot breath washing over your breast. "Your cunt is squeezing me so fucking tight."

Xavier's grip tightened on your hips as he watched your core slide up and down his shaft, your velvet walls clenching and fluttering around him with each upward glide. The exquisite sensation of your silken heat gripping his cock so tightly sent a surge of primal lust crashing through his veins, his balls drawing up tight against his body as his own release approached.

"That's it, baby. Fuck...keep squeezing my cock just like that," he growled, his voice a low, guttural rumble. 

The words “C-cumming-” are barely starting words out of your mouth before it crashes into you headfirst. You arch your spine into the perfect semi-circle as your orgasm crashed over you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your fingers clawing at his skin as you clung to him for dear life, your cries of ecstasy filling the room.

"Fuck....fuck..fu...!" Xavier roared, his voice echoing off the walls as your velvet walls clamped down on his cock like a vice. The sensation of your cunt spasming and fluttering around his shaft pushed him over the edge, his own release slamming into him.

He slammed his hips upwards one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your quivering heat as his cock jerked and pulsed. Thick, hot ropes of cum painted your insides, coating your walls with his seed as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan.

Xavier's body shuddered and jerked as he rode out the aftershocks of his intense climax, holding your trembling form tightly against his chest. He peppered your neck and shoulder with soft kisses, his hands roaming over your curves possessively as he slowly came down from the high of his release.

Xavier tangled his fingers in your hair, gripping the silky strands gently as he tilted your head back to look up at him. His blue eyes searched yours intensely, the emotion and sincerity in their depths making your heart flutter in your chest.

He brushed a tender kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a long moment. "I meant what I said before. I love you more than anything in this world or any other. You're my everything, my reason for living."

"Believe me, my love," he murmured, his voice a low, fervent whisper. "No one can ever take your place in my heart. It belongs to you, completely and utterly, now and forever."

Rafayel 🐡

Rafayel was already awake, his mind too restless to sleep any longer. He sat on the balcony of the resort hotel, watching the sun begin to peek over the horizon. The desert landscape seemed to glow in the early morning light, the sand dunes casting long shadows across the barren expanse.

He heard the sound of your footsteps approaching and turned to see you emerge from the bedroom, your hair still tousled with sleep. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he took in your appearance, remembering the feel of your body pressed against his as you slept.

Rising from the balcony chair, he crossed the distance between you and took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. His eyes met yours, a flicker of mischief dancing in their purple-pink depths.

"Good morning, my love," he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. "I have to run some errands at the art gallery today. Would you come with me? I promise it won't take long."

He knew he was being selfish, asking you to accompany him. But the thought of spending even a moment away from you was unbearable, especially in a place like this that felt so foreign and oppressive to him. He needed your presence, your calming influence, to ground him.

"Fine, but you have to invite me some dinner after" you say rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

Rafayel leaned back and laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and gratitude. "Dinner it is," he agreed, his voice warm with a newfound lightness. "I know a little place not far from here, a local gem hidden away in the back alleys of the city. They serve the most divine seafood, as fresh as if it was caught that very day."

An hour later, you emerged from the bedroom dressed for the day ahead. Rafayel had already finished getting ready, looking devastatingly handsome in a crisp linen shirt the color of a summer sky and tailored trousers that hugged his lean frame. He leaned against the wall opposite the bedroom door, his arms crossed over his chest and a playful smirk on his lips as he watched you approach.

"Well, don't you look good enough to eat," he purred, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few quick strides. His hands came up to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he dipped his head down to steal a heated kiss. He lingered for a long moment, savoring the taste of your lips and the feeling of your body pressed against his.

As you ate breakfast, Rafayel couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He watched as you bit into a piece of fruit, your lips parting and your tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of juice. He felt a surge of desire rush through him, his body responding to the simple, intimate gesture with a fervor that surprised even him.

He reached across the table and took your hand in his own, squeezing your fingers gently as he leaned in closer to you. "I'm so glad you agreed to come with me today," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "I don't think I could have faced that place alone."

As you guys arrived at the gallery, a sense of unease began to creep over Rafayel. He had been looking forward to seeing Thomas and discuss some important business matters they had to attend to. However, as you stepped inside the cool, air-conditioned space, Rafayel's brow furrowed in confusion.

As you turned a corner, Rafayel spotted a note taped to the wall, the paper fluttering slightly in the breeze from the AC vent. He released your hand and stepped forward, plucking the note from the wall and unfolding it with a sense of growing trepidation.

The note was from Thomas, the handwriting hurried and slightly illegible.

Thomas wrote that something urgent had come up, a family emergency that required his immediate attention. He apologized for not being there and promised to make it up to Rafayel soon. However, he also mentioned that there was a package waiting for Rafayel in his office, something important that he needed to deal with right away.

"Well, I suppose you'll just have to play the role of my assistant for the day," he murmured " And i can't leave without my important...package"

" I wouldn't call myself a package"

Rafayel's head snapped towards the source of the voice, his body tensing up as he recognized the redhead girl emerging from the office. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something like irritation and unease flashing across his face before it settled into a blank, guarded expression.

Releasing you from his embrace, Rafayel took a step back, putting a bit of distance between your bodies. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening as he regarded the girl warily.

It was clear he knew her, though from the look on his face, not particularly well or fondly. There was a history there, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air between them. Rafayel's posture was defensive, his body language radiating a subtle warning.

The girl smirked, her green eyes glinting with a smug satisfaction as she took in the scene before her - Rafayel's guarded stance, your confusion, the charged atmosphere. She was enjoying the clear discomfort radiating off of Rafayel, reveling in catching him off guard.

"Rafayel," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I've been waiting for you. I do hope I won't be kept waiting much longer"

Rafayel's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he met her gaze head on. "Celine," he acknowledged coolly, his voice tight. "I apologize for the delay. I had some...unexpected business to attend to first."

He glanced back at you, a silent apology and promise in his eyes before turning his attention back to Celine. "What brings you here? I thought we had an arrangement..."

Celine's lips curled into a sharp, wicked smile at Rafayel's words, a glint of triumph in her green eyes. She took a step closer to him, invading his personal space as she gazed up at him with a challenging smirk.

"Oh, I remember our arrangement perfectly, darling, but I'm afraid things have...changed. I need to discuss some new terms with you. In private"

She jerked her head towards the office, a clear gesture for him to follow her. There was a commanding edge to her voice, a tone that brooked no argument or refusal.

Rafayel's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he glared down at Celine. It was clear he was not pleased with this development, the interruption to his plans and the demand for a private audience. He glanced back at you, a flicker of apology and frustration in his eyes.

"I apologize, cutie," he said softly, his voice tight. "I won't be long. Wait for me here? "

He didn't wait for your response before turning on his heel and striding towards the office, Celine falling into step beside him. As they disappeared through the door, Rafayel cast one last lingering look your way, a silent promise that he would explain everything once he was free of this unexpected obligation.

Left alone in the gallery, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a shroud. Who was this woman, and what hold did she have over Rafayel? And more importantly, what secrets were they hiding from you?

An hour had passed since Rafayel had disappeared into the office with Celine, each minute feeling like an eternity as you waited anxiously in the gallery. The once vibrant space now felt cold and sterile, the art on the walls losing their luster as worry gnawed at you.

Unable to bear the suspense any longer, you made your way towards the office, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached the closed door. You raised your hand, knuckles poised to rap against the wood, when you heard the muffled sound of raised voices from within.

Rafayel's voice, low and angry, cut through the silence. "I can't believe you're doing this, Celine. I thought we had an understanding."

Celine's voice, sharp and mocking, followed. "Circumstances change, darling. And you're hardly in a position to refuse me anything."

You froze, your hand hovering inches from the door as you strained to hear more. But the voices fell silent, a tense, heavy quiet descending upon the office.

With a deep breath, you knocked firmly on the door, your nerves on edge. "Rafayel? It's me. I'm going to step out for a bit, maybe do some shopping. I'll call you when I'm done, alright?"

As you approached the office door, ready to knock once more, Celine emerged from within. She stepped out, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she paused, looking you up and down with a critical, almost disdainful eye.

Celine's gaze lingered on you for a long moment, a smirk playing at the corners of her painted lips. She lifted a hand, pretending to wipe at the corner of her mouth with a dainty finger, a mocking gesture that sent a chill down your spine.

She tsked softly, shaking her head as she stepped closer to you. There was a wicked glint in her green eyes, a cruel amusement that made your skin crawl.

"Look who it is. Rafayel's little pet, come to check on her master?"

Celine circled you like a shark, her heels clicking an ominous rhythm on the floor. She leaned in closer, her perfume washing over you, the scent cloying and overwhelming.

"I must say, darling, she purred, her breath hot against your ear. You don't look like you have what it takes to keep a man like Rafayel satisfied. I do hope you're not feeling...inadequate?"

She threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the gallery. The cruelty in her eyes was unmistakable, the malice behind her words impossible to ignore.

Celine smirked at your stunned silence, your obvious discomfort clearly amusing her. She took a step back, smoothing down her tailored suit jacket with a self-satisfied air.

"Well, this has been...enlightening," she commented, a mocking lilt to her voice. She glanced down at her manicured nails, picking at a nonexistent speck of lint.

"But I must go and clean myself up. All this...business can be so messy, don't you think?"

With a final, cruel smile thrown your way, Celine turned on her heel and sauntered off, disappearing down the hallway towards the restrooms, leaving you standing there, your mind reeling.

With a sense of trepidation and growing unease, you pushed open the office door, the hinges creaking softly as it swung inward. As you stepped inside, your gaze fell upon Rafayel, seated behind the large mahogany desk that dominated the room.

He looked up as you entered, his purple-pink eyes meeting yours. There was a weariness in his expression, a tension in his shoulders that spoke of the difficult conversation he had just endured. The room was filled with a heavy, charged silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words and secrets.

"Don't let her get to you. Celine is...a complicated part of my past. But you don't need to worry about her.

"Is she now?" You ask, " well since she thinks I'm not good enough to keep you satisfied I think I know what kind of relationship you had"

Rafayel's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and hurt at your accusation. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk as he fixed you with an intense, almost accusing stare. The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the space.

He was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he seemed to struggle with how to respond. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and tight, tinged with a bitterness you had never heard before.

"You think you know, but you have no idea," he bit out, his words sharp and cutting. "Celine and I...we had a business arrangement. Nothing more.

He paused, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge your reaction. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a raw honesty that made your heart ache.

Rafayel leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he studied your jealous expression. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and something else, something darker and more intense.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice even as his gaze remained serious. "you think I can't see it written all over your face, my love?"

He stood slowly, rising to his feet and rounding the desk until he stood before you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

As you turned to leave, unable to bear the tension and uncertainty any longer, Rafayel's hand shot out and caught your wrist in a firm grip. He pulled you back towards him, his eyes flashing with a sudden intensity.

"Where do you think you're going, cutie?" he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice. Before you could respond, he had already crossed the room and closed the office door with a sharp click.

"I don't think I'm done with you just yet. We need to talk about this little...outburst of jealousy"

He stepped closer, backing you up until your back hit the door. His hands came up to grip your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he gazed down at you with a mix of amusement and something else, something darker and more primal.

"Tell me, y/n", he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you really think so little of me? Of us? I thought you knew me better than that... But it seems I was wrong."

Rafayel's hands slid down to grip the backs of your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he lifted you effortlessly. He carried you towards the desk, sweeping aside the clutter of papers and art supplies before setting you down on the polished wood surface.

He stepped between your parted legs, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he leaned in close, his face mere inches from yours. The desk creaked softly beneath your combined weight, the sound echoing in the tense silence of the office.

His hands slid slowly up your thighs, his thumbs tracing teasing circles on the sensitive skin just below the hem of your skirt. He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, could see the pulse jumping in his throat as he stared you down.

"I won't have you doubting me, doubting us", he said softly, but there was a steely undercurrent to his words. "Now, pretty...what makes you think you know the true nature of my relationship with Celine? What makes you think you know anything at all about the man you claim to love?"

As you began to stammer out an explanation, Rafayel silenced you by suddenly reaching between your thighs. His fingers deftly pushed your skirt up and out of the way, and in one sharp, aggressive motion, he ripped your panties clean off, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper in his grasp.

You gasped, your body jolting at the sudden, intimate contact and the brutal destruction of your undergarment. Rafayel's eyes flashed with a wild, almost feral light as he watched your reaction, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Shhhhh", he hushed you, his fingers already delving beneath the tattered remains of your panties to stroke along your most sensitive flesh. "No more words out of your pretty mouth, my love. No more words at all."

He pushed your thighs further apart, making room for himself as he stepped even closer, the hard, muscular length of his body pressing against yours. His hand cupped your sex possessively, his thumb finding your clit and circling the tender bud with a maddening, teasing pressure.

Rafayel's hands gripped your ankles, pushing your feet up and outwards until your knees bent and your legs fell open, fully exposing you to his hungry gaze. Your skirt, now bunched up around your waist, left you bare and vulnerable, the tattered remnants of your ruined panties dangling off one ankle.

He drank in the sight of your naked, glistening sex, his eyes darkening with lust and a possessive intensity that made your heart race. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned down, his breath hot and heavy against your most intimate flesh.

He leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. He licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance up to your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth with a low, approving groan.

"You taste like heaven" he murmured against your flesh, his words muffled and distorted by his greedy mouthing at your sex.

" Raf.....the door isn't locked" you warn him.

Rafayel paused briefly in his ministrations, glancing up at you with a wicked, almost defiant grin. He seemed not at all concerned by the possibility of being caught in such a compromising position.

"Let them come," he challenged, a reckless edge to his voice. "Let the whole fucking world see me claiming what's mine. I don't care anymore."

With that, he dove back in, his mouth latching onto your sex with a hunger that bordered on feral. His tongue pushed inside you, thrusting deep and hard, fucking you with a intensity that stole your breath.

One hand released your hip to slide up your body, pushing your shirt out of the way to expose your breasts. He palmed the soft mounds, his fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he rolled and plucked at your nipples.

Rafayel lifted his head, his lips glistening with your essence as he stared up at you with a wicked, challenging grin. He seemed to relish the idea of being caught in such a compromising position, of giving the world a peek into the dark, passionate side of his nature.

"The walls are thin here", he murmured, his voice low and rough with lust. "So it's up to you cutie, Do we keep your sweet cries of pleasure to ourselves...or do we let everyone outside hear just how much you love being fucked by me?"

As Rafayel's fingers pinched and rolled your nipple almost painfully, and his teeth clamped down hard on your sensitive clit, you could no longer hold back the tide of pleasure that crashed over you. A loud, wanton scream tore from your throat, echoing off the thin walls of the office and no doubt carrying out into the hallway beyond.

"Fuck, yes!" Rafayel growled in approval as he felt your body convulse beneath him, your juices flooding his mouth and chin. He lapped at you greedily, his tongue delving deep to catch every drop of your essence as he pushed you ruthlessly through your intense climax.

In a sudden, aggressive motion, Rafayel flipped you over onto your stomach on the desk. He pressed your chest down against the cool, smooth wood, the air forcing out of your lungs in a rush. Before you could catch your breath, he had already gripped your hips and tugged them back, bending you at the waist and exposing your bare, dripping sex to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck, look at this ass", he growled, his hands kneading and squeezing the round globes roughly. "Such a perfect, fuckable ass. It's a crime to keep it hidden away"

He punctuated his words by delivering a sharp smack to one cheek, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. The sting quickly gave way to a warm, tingling pleasure that spread through your nerves, making you clench and tighten around nothing.

With that, he gripped the base of his thick, hard cock and rubbed the leaking tip teasingly along your slit. He coated himself in your juices, mixing them with the bead of precum that oozed from his slit. Then, with one hard, ruthless thrust, he buried himself inside your tight, clutching heat.

"Fuck, so fucking tight," he grunted, his hips flush against your ass as he savored the feel of your walls gripping him like a vice. "Such a perfect fucking fit for my cock. Like you were made just for me..."

Rafayel began to move, his hips pulling back until just the tip of his cock remained inside you, before slamming forward and burying himself to the hilt once more. He set a hard, fast pace, the desk creaking and shaking beneath you with each powerful thrust of his hips.

Your face was pressed into the smooth wood, drool already beginning to pool and drip from the corner of your slack mouth. The sensation of being so thoroughly taken, so completely at the mercy of Rafayel's lust and desire, was overwhelming. It was almost too much, too intense.

Rafayel grabbed your arms, pulling them up and bending them at the elbows to either side of your head. He placed your palms flat against the desk, giving you something to hold onto as he continued his relentless, pounding assault on your pussy.

"Hold on tight, cutie", he growled, his voice strained with exertion and lust. "You're going to need to brace yourself for what comes next. I'm not going to hold back, not anymore."

Rafayel kept up his relentless pace, pounding into you with a single-minded determination. But despite the intensity of his thrusts and the building pleasure, he somehow avoided hitting that one special spot inside you that always sent you hurtling over the edge. It was as if he could read your mind, could sense your impending release, and was deliberately denying you that final push.

"Punishing you," he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble in your ear. "Teasing you, making you beg so sweetly for something I can give you...but won't. Not yet."

"Don't you dare come until I say you can," he ordered, his voice a harsh, dominating bark. "You don't get to come until I've had my fill...until I've pumped this greedy cunt full of my seed and marked you as mine"

You found yourself begging, unable to hold back the desperate pleas that spilled from your lips. Your voice was high and thin, strained with the effort of holding back your rapidly approaching climax, of keeping your body from seizing control.

"Please, Rafayel, please!" you cried out, your fingers scrabbling against the smooth wood of the desk as you tried to find purchase, to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensation. "Please, I need...I need to come. I can't...please, Rafayel!"

Tears of frustration and desperation pricked at the corners of your eyes, your body shaking and trembling beneath Rafayel's ruthless onslaught. You were completely at his mercy, completely under his control. And in that moment, you knew you would do anything, say anything, to earn the release you so desperately craved.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, his lips finding your ear. When he spoke, his voice was a low, dark rasp, each word deliberately enunciated.

"Don't. Ever. Doubt. Me."

He punctuated each word with a sharp, precise thrust of his hips, driving his cock deep inside you, grinding against that maddeningly elusive spot just out of reach. Your body shook and trembled, tears leaking from your clenched eyes as you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to stifle your increasingly desperate moans.

"Im. Yours."

Thrust.

"Completely. And. Totally."

Thrust.

"Yours"

Thrust

"So you'll wait. You'll wait until I give you permission. Until I grant you the release you so desperately crave. Until then...you'll take what I give you. Understand?"

He emphasized his demand with a particularly brutal thrust, his pelvis slamming against your ass, his cock buried to the hilt inside your clutching heat. He remained still for a long moment, his breath hot and heavy against your neck, his heart pounding against your back.

"Tell me you understand y/n"

As soon as the words "I do" left your lips, Rafayel let out a low growl of satisfaction. He angled your hips just so, tilting them up and back to align your body perfectly with his. And then, with a ferocity that stole your breath, he began to pound into that sweet spot deep inside you.

"Yes, just like that", he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release.

"That's it, baby", he encouraged, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "I can feel you getting close. I can feel your pussy clenching around me, trying to suck me in deeper. You're so fucking close, aren't you? Ready to explode like a fucking firework?"

He angled your hips again, changing the angle slightly, and suddenly you could feel the tension in your body pulling tighter, the coil wound to its breaking point. Your breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, your fingers scrabbling against the desk as you tried to find purchase, to anchor yourself against the tidal wave of sensation threatening to sweep you away.

"Come for me, pretty girl", Rafayel demanded, his voice a low, dark command. "Come screaming my name, so everyone knows who makes you feel this fucking good. Now, fucking do it!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside you, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he finally allowed his own release to overtake him. Thick, scalding ropes of his seed painted your insides, marking you, claiming you as his own as he filled you with his essence.

The sensation of his hot cum flooding your core pushed you over the edge, your body seizing and convulsing beneath his as you came harder than you ever had before. Your scream of ecstasy echoed off the thin walls, no doubt alerting everyone in the vicinity to your shared climax.

As the intense waves of your shared climax began to ebb, Rafayel collapsed against your back, his weight pressing you down into the desk. You both panted and gasped for air, bodies slick with sweat, hearts racing in tandem as you struggled to regain your composure.

After a long moment, Rafayel rolled off of you, his softening cock slipping from your dripping cunt. He gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he pulled you up to sit on the edge of the desk. Your legs were shaky, and you leaned against him for support, not trusting your own balance just yet.

"Look at the mess we made," he murmurs, his voice still rough and strained. He gestures to the desk, streaked with your combined fluids, and the floor, splattered with the evidence of your passionate coupling.

"But it was worth it. Fuck, was it ever worth it. I love you, y/n," he whispers against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never forget it."

As you both stepped out of the office, still flushed and disheveled from your passionate encounter, you find Celine waiting. The young woman's eyes were round as saucers, her face a deep shade of red as she no doubt processed the sounds she had just witnessed emanating from the closed door.

Rafayel barely spared her a glance as he strode past, his arm around your waist to keep you steady. He paused just before exiting the building and turned to face Celine, a wicked smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Keep the paintings, Celine", he instructed, his voice still rough and low from their recent activities. "Our agreement is null and void, effective immediately. Consider this a parting gift, for your trouble."

Celine's mouth opened and closed a few times, as if trying to formulate a response, but no words came out. She looked stunned, her gaze flickering between you and Rafayel.

"And say hi to the family for me, dear cousin", Rafayel added with a mocking, almost cruel edge to his voice. 

With that parting shot, he ushered you out into the brilliant sunlight, the warm air a stark contrast to the cool interior of the gallery.

[eclipixels]

Our past?

Sylus x Reader

Content: After discovering your past life with Sylus and his promise to restore your memories, you find yourself eager to hear the stories of your past from him.

Warnings: : slight angst if you squint your eyes

[2,118 words]

A/N: Sylus’s myth has been weighing on my mind, it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Forbidden love?? Like?? Ugh. I had to write something to make it hurt less :’).

      After discovering the truth about your past life, a storm of emotions had raged within you. Anger, betrayal, disbelief. How could Sylus have kept something so monumental from you? How could he have known and simply chosen not to tell you? The argument that followed had been fierce, but in the end, he relented, promising to restore your lost memories tomorrow morning. Now, the fire had dimmed, replaced by a quiet restlessness you couldn't shake.

      “Won’t you at least come to bed, darling?” Sylus murmured, his voice softer than usual, his sharp eyes now wide and pleading. You exhaled, exasperated yet unable to deny him. With a tired sigh, you crawled over, settling on top of him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath you.

      "Sylus?"

      "Hm?"

      "Tell me about our past," you whispered. He had promised to return your memories tomorrow, but waiting felt unbearable. The unknown loomed too heavily over you, making it impossible to sleep.

      He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "Impatient, aren’t you? Can’t even wait until tomorrow?"

      "You’re one to talk about being greedy," you huffed, shifting slightly against him.

      “I know,” he admitted, the grin that spread across his lips filled with something more than amusement, something nostalgic, as if the weight of the past he had once tried to forget was now something he wanted to remember.

      He studied you for a moment before continuing, “Did you know you were a princess, princess?” His smirk widened at his own joke, reveling in the play on words.

      You rolled your eyes, but your curiosity overpowered your exasperation. "A princess?"

      "Ivory City," he said, watching for recognition in your gaze. "They accused you of being a sorcerror because you took pity and sympathy on my kind, so they cast you out."

      "How primitive," you muttered, unimpressed by the cruelty of a kingdom you barely remembered.

      "Indeed," he agreed, his tone laced with a quiet sort of amusement. "They feared what they couldn't understand."

      A brief silence stretched between you before he added, “You also gave me my name, but I already told you that.”

      You sighed, tilting your head slightly. "You still haven’t taught me how to pronounce your actual name." It was something you had discovered earlier, before the argument, before the flood of fragmented memories revealed pieces of his dragon life with you in Philos.

      Sylus hummed, clearly unbothered by the notion. “It’s irrelevant,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles against your back. “I like your version of my name better. Your claim on me.” His grin returned, sharper now, something possessive glinting behind his eyes. A name you gave him that he’s used ever since. Your lips parted slightly, heart skipping a beat at the weight of his words. You had claimed him once before, long ago, in another life. And now, in this one, you were beginning to do it all over again.

      Sylus smirked, his voice dropping into something teasing. “Did you also know that once, back when we still held nothing but disdain for each other, I wrapped my hand around your throat, and you—” He let out a short laugh, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You moaned.”

      You jolted upright, eyes wide. “I did what?!” you shrieked, horrified.

      His laughter only deepened, rich and unbothered. “It was certainly… unique,” he mused, tilting his head as if replaying the memory in his mind. “I’ve threatened plenty of people before, but never had anyone react quite like that.”

      Heat flared across your face as you groaned, burying yourself against his chest in embarrassment. “I hate you.”

      “No, you don’t,” he chuckled, pressing a lazy kiss against the top of your head.

      A moment of silence passed, the air between you settling into something softer, something steeped in nostalgia. “Most nights,” Sylus murmured, “we spent our time together under the moonlight.”

      You closed your eyes, letting his voice guide you through the fragments of a past you desperately wished to reclaim. “I can’t wait to get my memories back,” you hummed. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you all over again.”

      His fingers curled gently around your waist, holding you close. “There were times,” he continued, voice quieter now, “when you would see my true form, and I expected you to be afraid. I thought you’d run, that you’d look at me like I was a monster.” He paused, as if caught in the memory. “But you didn’t. Instead, you traced your much smaller hand over my scales and horns. You—” He swallowed. “You still loved me.”

      “How couldn’t I?” you whispered, pressing closer.

      Sylus exhaled, the tension in his body unraveling. “Back then, I didn’t know what love was,” he admitted. “You introduced me to that.”

      You lifted your head slightly, gazing up at him. “Really?”

      His lips curled into something almost reverent, something achingly fond. “Really.

      “That’s beautiful,” you murmured, voice soft with drowsiness.

      Sylus smiled faintly, fingers tracing idle patterns against your waist and thighs. “My favorite memory might be when I took you to that flower field,” he mused, pausing expectantly for your response.

      But you said nothing. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to glance down at you.

“Kitten, are you asleep?” he asked after a long stretch of silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. A quiet snore escaped you. You weren’t asleep, but he didn’t have to know that.

      His chest rose and fell with a slow inhale before he continued anyway, his voice dipping into something raw.

      “The reason why…” he started, then hesitated. For once, the words didn’t come so easily. “The reason why I withheld these memories and this information from you was because I knew it would break you.”

      A heavy silence settled between you, thick and suffocating.

      “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier that we have half of our souls in each other.” His fingers curled slightly against your skin. That much, you had already discovered. The truth that the two of you were irreversibly connected, bound by something ancient and inescapable.

      His next words came quieter, almost as if he didn’t want to admit them out loud. “But I just… I couldn’t let you know that we were destined for death.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “It was greedy of me. I wanted you all to myself, even if it meant keeping the truth from you. But the curse of a dragon’s beloved is to die. And you—” His voice wavered, the weight of his confession nearly unbearable. “You were destined to kill me, as my archenemy.”

      His breath hitched, and he let his eyes fall shut. “I didn’t want you to know that,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But I realized… it’s not just my story. It’s yours too. And you deserve to know.”

      The words hung in the air between you, fragile and aching. His throat worked as he tried to steady himself, but his voice still cracked, betraying the turmoil he had tried so hard to suppress. Still, you didn’t move, didn’t respond. But your fingers twitched ever so slightly against his chest.

      You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the warm tears spilled onto Sylus’s chest. They fell silently, one after another, pooling against his skin like echoes of a grief you weren’t prepared to feel.

      “Sweetheart?” Sylus called out, his voice laced with concern. His arms tightened slightly around you. “Are you alright?”

      “It hurts,” you whispered, your voice small, fragile. “Why was our story so sad?”

      He exhaled, his fingers threading gently through your hair. “I don’t know, my love,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “This is why I didn’t want you to know.”

      A shuddering breath left you as you stared at the space between you, the past pressing in on your chest like an unbearable weight. “Did I hurt you?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

      Sylus stilled for a moment before letting out a small, knowing sigh. He tilted your chin up, thumb brushing away the tears clinging to your lashes. “Sweetie, that’s all in the past for a reason,” he murmured. “None of that destiny, archnemesis, dragons-destroying-cities, royalty-and-war bullshit matters here.” He smirked slightly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe the part about our souls being tied for eternity, but I’m not complaining about that part.”

      You sniffled, staring up at him with a wobbly frown.

      “Oh, and wanderers,” he added, scowling. “That part I do complain about.”

      You huffed a small laugh despite yourself, but your expression quickly turned serious again. “You didn’t answer my question, though,” you said, eyes searching his. “Did I hurt you?”

      Sylus hesitated. “Well…”

      “Stop it. Just tell me.”

      A sigh, followed by a lopsided, almost sheepish grin. “Maybe you stabbed me.”

      Your mouth fell open. “Maybe?”

      “But it wasn’t entirely on purpose,” he continued hastily. “Not out of your own volition. In fact, you didn’t want to kill me at all. That’s why you chose to tie our souls together instead.” He pulled your leg up to wrap around him tighter. “You chose to save me instead of killing me. Our souls became bound, incapable of betraying each other.”

      “Incapable of betraying each other?” you echoed, brows furrowing before your expression morphed into something accusatory. “Oh, really? Then what about that time you ate my sandwich I was saving for later?”

      Sylus blinked. “Uh—”

      “Actually, no. You didn’t even eat it yourself,” you fumed. “You gave it to Mephisto. A mechanical bird. I don’t even know if he can digest organic material!”

      “So feisty,” Sylus murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “Lifetimes of love, and yet, you’re still a brat.”

      “Hey!” You gasped, feigning offense, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

      He only chuckled, shaking his head. Then, his expression turned mischievous as he pointed a finger at you accusingly. “But, you do realize—I can never die unless you’re the one who kills me.”

      You smirked, crossing your arms. “Oh, I was so smart for doing that.”

      Sylus let out a full-bodied laugh, the sound warm and rich with something inexplicably fond.

      “What?” You tilted your head, watching the way his grin widened.

      “Isn’t it crazy?” he said, voice quieter now, as if he was still wrapping his mind around it himself. “Lifetimes of love… You’ve always been my girl.”

      Something about the way he said it made your chest ache in the most bittersweet way. This love of yours, it felt like it was something you’re not allowed to have. You swallowed hard, voice softening. “I still can’t believe you’re a dragon.”

      “What?” He snorted. “You thought the horns were just for decoration?”

      You groaned sleepily. “In my defense, you don’t always make them visible.”

      Sylus smirked. “Would you like me to keep them out more often, then? Just for you?”

      “Sylus.” You whimpered, burying your face against him.

      His amusement faded as concern flickered across his features. “You’re still upset?”

      “I don’t want to kill you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

      Sylus exhaled, his fingers tracing slow, soothing lines against your back. “Love,” he murmured, “like I said, you won’t. This is our timeline.”

      “But I want you in every timeline,” you confessed, curling closer, as if holding onto him tighter could somehow tether your souls together even more. “Every life.”

      Sylus stilled. His fingers stopped their tracing. His breath hitched just slightly. Then, with a heavy sigh, he picked up your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. His lips were warm, his touch reverent.

      “I…” He hesitated.

      Sylus never made promises lightly. He didn’t want to promise you something he couldn’t keep. But then, he thought about it. About how he had already overturned fate before. How he and you both had defied instinct, rewritten the path carved for each other. Yet, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t just want your soul. You didn’t just want his eye. You were both greedy, greedy creatures. You wanted to consume each other, bones and all. In love. In deep, all-consuming love.

      And maybe he could make that happen.

      He would need a powerful enough sorcerer. Someone who still wielded magic strong enough to rewrite the very laws of existence. He could find one. He would find one. He would make sure it was just you and him, forever. Not killing each other. Not dying. That would make you immortal, too.

      He could have you forever.

      Now, wasn’t that greedy?

      “I promise,” he finally whispered, sealing his vow with another kiss against your palm, not noticing the soft glow that wrapped itself around you both as you involuntarily resonated.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Handle With Care 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your work blurs the lines between professional and personal.

Note: I'm on a Bucky kick and can't stop myself.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The caller ID flashing on your dashboard display makes you groan. What the hell is Sam calling for? He should be patiently waiting at the venue.

You know even before you answer what the issue is. It's the same as it always is. It can never be about anyone but him.

"Wilson," you answer matter-of-factly, "I know I'm not late."

"Never are," he confirms. "It's not you."

"Oh, I know," you put your blinker on and check the traffic behind you, "you're really going to make me pull a U-ey."

"I know, I'm sorry. Again."

"You know, I never had another job where I had to make sure my co-workers got their asses out of bed," you spin the wheel and your tires squeal on the tarmac.

"Co-workers... dang, I thought we were more than that." You can hear his pout through the phone.

"Me and you, maybe," you drone.

"Hey, he's been trying," he argues.

"Yeah, I know. You think I don't try, Wilson?"

"Look, I'll make it up to you."

"You say that a lot," you shake your head at the road.

"Look, I gotta go. It's my big day," he intones.

"Please, do. Stop worrying about the old man." You insist. "Might not be in the job description, but I'll get it done. As always. See ya soon."

"See ya." He hangs up and your music comes back on. Not for long. You idle at a light and dial out another call.

Bucky's name flashes as you wait for a pick up. Of course, he can't be bothered. On this day of all. You sigh and try two more times as you get closer to his place. Nothing.

You get out and nearly trip out of the strappy heels. Wilson owes you indeed, for more than the personal house call. You teeter up over the curb and grab onto the railing. You climb the concrete steps and pound on the front door of the townhouse.

"Barnes," you holler through. "I know you didn't forget."

You hammer again. You only stop when your fist throbs. You shake out your hands and huff. You stomp and feel the skinny heel bend dangerously. Fuck.

You don't got the tech on you to unlock the keypad, looks like the old-fashioned way will do. You shift your clutch and pull out your nail file. Bastard. You better not break a nail for his reclusive ass.

You go around back and use the file to latch the kitchen window. You know Bucky is his own security but he really should get a proper alarm. You punch the screen in and grab the frame. You haul yourself into your waist and balance there, the ledge pressing on your stomach. The smell of coffee greets you in a bold waft.

You look up as Bucky leans his vibranium palm on the counter and watches you. You snarl and reach out. "A little help?"

He keeps his coffee to his lips and nears, grabbing your forearm to leverage you inside. Your knees touch the counter and you kneel there as you catch your breath. He lets go, watching you over the brim.

"You coulda knocked," he says.

"I did," you slip your legs out from under you. "Loud."

"I was in the shower."

"Great, at least you got that done," you chide.

"Coffee?" He offers as he points to the french press.

"Barnes," you warn with a point. "Please."

You stare at him. He's in a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. His slippers are the sort of plaid that you find in a nursing home. You hold back a growl.

"You know what today is."

"I don't think I should go," he grumbles.

"Are you serious? Don't be a sour puss--" A sudden white flash lands beside you and the rattling purr rumbles against your leg. You pause to pet Alpine as if she heard you deriding her breed. "Not you," you assure her.

"I don't want to ruin it--"

"Barnes, you can put a suit on and sit pretty," you push off the counter and your ankles turn to noodles as you barely keep from a sprain. "Look at me, all dressed up like a prize pig, so go put an apple in your mouth."

He rolls his eyes, "he doesn't need me--"

"Bull," you interject.

You march past him. This is how it is. You can deal with it on missions. That's just how it goes. Most men you work with are obstinate to the point of being another adversary on their own. But outside the job, it's a bit too much.

You go down the hall and slow. It takes a moment to get your bearings. You've never been much further than the front door. You ignore the clutter across the front room floor and charge upstairs.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Bucky stands at the bottom as you stomp up.

You don't answer him. You go into his bedroom. You stop and look around. The bed is made, possibly unslept in. The room doesn't look used much at all. You go to his closet and slide the door open. You find a pair of slacks and a jacket. Tie, shirt, all presentable enough.

He appears in the doorway. You lay everything on the bed.

"Get dressed," you demand.

"I'll call Sam--"

"No, Wilson is busy. It's his day. You wanna know how you're going to ruin it?" You approach him and cross your arms. "By going AWOL. Not today, Barnes. Now, get yourself together."

You strut out and shut the door. You stop outside and call through. "Five minutes."

You continues down to the stairs and idle there. You check your phone. You can make it. Easy. He just needs to get his ass in gear.

When the door opens, you turn to him. His tie is undone. You go to him and grab it, knotting it roughly, not that he would notice.

"You couldn't shave in the shower?" You huff.

"Hey, I can do it," he tries to bat you away.

"Then why didn't you do it twenty minutes ago?" He shrugs and you pull his tie straight. You tug his lapels and straighten his jacket. "And the rest." You flick your fingers toward his face.

He shakes his head and goes into the bathroom. He grabs his comb as you linger and you see him in the mirror dragging the teeth through his thick hair. It's to his collar now. You told him to get a hair cut. He never listens. Not your problem. Well, only for today.

"Damn..."

"Here," you dip into the bathroom and grab the comb. "Just--"

You reach for the tin of gel. You just need him to look somewhat presentable. You part his hair neatly and comb it back behind his head, moving around him to check nothing's out of place. He stares at the floor. You don't want to embarrass him but goddamnit.

"Okay," you pop the cap on and wipe your hands on the towel hanging in the loop. "Let's go."

His eyes stray to the wall and he mopes. You take a breath.

"Barnes, it's for Sam," you say.

"I know," he croaks and heaves. He lifts his head and puts his shoulders straight. "I'll do my best not to fuck this up."

[guzmawife]

🍓: he had no job when i met him but now he works at a high school as an errand boy / security (his children attend said school). hes the guy they call in when a real teacher needs to use the bathroom so he can watch the class. or to retrieve some papers from the printer. go get me that thing boy.

🍒: probably just chilling at home with snacks and movies and fast food. or chillen at the beach. 🏝️

🍎: tapu cocoa.. we all know dis.. hot sweet drinks…

🍉: hes not religious other than believing that a higher power exists. hi arceus..

🍑: totally more comfortable giving gifts. hes used to taking care of others so it’s pretty natural for him to be giving. he has no issue receiving but its not rlly a priority since he didnt come from much so hes used to not rlly asking for much.

🍊: i make him peel it. he knows my paws and claws have to stay clean… he’s comfortable with getting dirty and i am not!

🥭: no i domt think so. his dad was a prick and said shit like. Youre not a woman so you dont need those. fuckkkk that guy.

🍍: probably him being mentally manipulated and abused! 😿 killing all the people that taught him he wasn’t anything and made him feel like he had to act out in order to prove himself to others. hhhggffg. he deserves to be loved.

🍌: he likes to be in the dark. das it. no specific reason why.

🍋: he would probably change his hothead nature bc he doesn’t like how quickly he gets upset and makes bad decisions. and his hairline.

🍋‍🟩: he tells people if you squish bugs more will keep showing up. as a joke. heehe. sorry im gonna squish them still im a pussy.. thats probably why they keep showing up though. i have an actual curse. maybe he’s right man…

🍈: he thinks fate is bogus and if you want something to happen you have to make it happen.

🍏: hes bisexual and questioning demisexuality, he learned of his bisexuality through being in denial of liking the same sex and being like. This is ruining my tough guy personality. This can’t be. but then it kept happening and he was like man fuck this whatever. what the hell sure. he became normal. he’s still figuring out the demisexuality, to put it simply he just doesnt want to engage in sexual acts with anyone unless he has a genuine connection to them. it also just feels better for him. sorry for airing out your business Anywayyyyyy. Anyway.

🍐: he’s a nail biter its kinda gross sorry man. his nails are short always so i make him do short nail tasks since my nails are usually pretty long. i think he bounces his legs sometimes too. he knows i hate that shit thou so he tries not to. usually i just leave so he can shake all he wants. then hes like what wait no….

🥝: he would totally let me do his makeup. we’re both pretty lazy when it comes to makeup so we don’t so anything complex. i just do mascara and corner highlights and SOMETIMES lipstick and that’s it. #autistic i cant stand having too much shit ok my face. this isn’t even about me brah. he does simple makeup too since he’s just not super experienced. he just tries things sometimes but he’s not a professional. he just wants to look cool.

🫒: he’s a big hugger he squeezes too tight but it feels good though…. (´ ω `♡) he likes to be hugged too! yey!

🫐: definitely more of an artist he actually keeps a sketchbook. right brained yeah.

🍇: if we never met i think he might still be getting himself into some trouble tbh. he’s pretty stubborn.

🥥: he draws he plays games. he works out. he cooks. i think he would want to get into gardening but his location doesn’t allow for it since it’s always fucking raining.

🍅: i think he would get me testosterone or something that i can’t possibly get safely right now. or like. my own living space. or some rare pokemon card / plush that costs more than an organ online. sigh. or probably 1 billion dollars. muhehw.

🌶️: he drinks ginger ale. ginger ale the ultra cure.

🫚: hes not picky. he cant eat beans bc hes allergic to them. but i dont think hes picky since he has to make sure his kids eat first. so he eats whatevers left from them. leftover amalgamation.

🥕: he didnt like them but he ate them anyway bc his parents were mean :(

🧅: he cries when hes angry like super fuming. and when hes thinking about his past. hes just mad at himself for what happened and how he handled things. Basically. getting manipulated and taken advantage of makes him upset and he cries. he doesnt cry at movies unless he relates to them.

🌽: does bugs counts as animal. He likes dogs. and isopods. and other sea creatures.

🥦: pet peeves are getting called ‘boy’ or ‘kid’. i used to call him boy all the time just by habit and he would Not like that. “I’m not a boy. I’m a man. stop callin me dat…” okaaayyy whatevar. he doesnt have an issue with me calling him dude tho. despite being his lover. which is a little funny. um what else. people not knocking before entering. leaving empty cartons and stuff in the fridge or cabinet. ppl telling him he looks tired. or people calling him old. not that he has an issue with old people (😽) but its like. How did you even reach that conclusion.

🥒: hes afraid of ultra beasts a little.. specifically uh whats its name. nihilego. that bird that i hate. middle finger emoji. hes like. a little more hesitant with UBs than regular mons. he’s also got a fear of getting lost.

🥬: beige flags auumm i hate his ugly fucking sunglasses. and when he says. ya boy (pinches the space between my brows). peeing with the door open. he does that thing where u can feel him looking at you waiting to turn around during the movie so he can kiss you. theres probably more. im very good at complaining.

🫛: he loves to think of new pet names for me to see how i will react. he’d be like. “goodnight honeypie” and id be like “oh…. yeah… 😽” he also likes them too but most of the time i just call him musham or guzma bc i like saying his name. then he’s like. Why dont you call me anything else…. (sad puppy eyes). he likes when i call him mumu or honey. i calll him princess sometimes but its rare. princess is like his top pet name for me. meeooww. sometimes i call him Boss. thats For when. Im teasing Him. That one Makes his Ears turn Red. For special Occasions. meow.

🫑: he’s had a number of near death experiences so he’s pretty afraid of death. he has no lofty life goals. he just wants his family safe. wants to travel too and have good genuine relationships.

🥑: not super niche but cosmetics and nail art. he also likes cooking and insects and drawing. just things he grew to like from being around his family. or trying to distract himself from his own issues.

🍠: he likes to go to the beach and sit listening to the waves (same). he also likes to paint his or others nails when he’s bored. “gimme yer hands i wanna try sumn”. yknow.

🍆: favorite scent is meeeeeee… i kid i kid. probably like. Ugh. baked goods. Sugar smell. Rain smell 👎🏾 i hate rain smell but he likes it. i don’t think he has any specific least favorite smells other than the usual like peepee and caca yknow.

🧄: allergic to beans

🥔: he makes japanese curry a lot. easy to make in large portions for his 75million children. i like rice so he usually makes rice dishes for me. i don’t cook very often but when i do its cultural foods since he doesn’t know those recipes. he likes those. yom. he wants to learn baking but just hasn’t had the chance or motivation.

🍄‍🟫: i think he would wanna be a mewtwo or something. super strong and cool nonchalant. if we’re talking irl mytho creatures, cerberus. that guy cool as shit. #swagger.

this took me three whole days to answer. enjoyable experience rlly made me think. sorry for any typos i used swipe typing for parts of this 😿.

@sylvie-wants-your-dogs hi : )

the ULTIMATE f/o infodumping ask game!

(this is gonna be a long one...)

🍓 - disregarding the career your f/o currently has, what other career would they consider going into, if given the chance?

🍒 - if your f/o and you spend a day doing anything, anything at all, what would they do and why?

🍎 - what's your f/o's favorite drink? any drink, alcoholic or non alcoholic!

🍉 - is your f/o religious? what's their opinion on religion or spirituality?

🍑 - is your f/o more comfortable giving or receiving gifts? why? do they have any preferences on gifts they like receiving?

🍊 - if you asked your f/o to peel an orange for you, what would they do?

🥭 - did your f/o have stuffed animals growing up? do they still have stuffed animals? do they have a favorite?

🍍 - if you could change any one thing about your f/os backstory/character, what would you change? why?

🍌 - does your f/o have a vendetta against The Big Light™? what kind of lighting do they prefer?

🍋 - if your f/o could change one thing about themselves, what would they change and why?

🍋‍🟩 - is your f/o superstitious? is there any habits they follow or quirks they have to follow said superstitions? like not opening umbrellas indoors to avoid back luck?

🍈 - does your f/o believe in fate? do they thing everything is preplanned out by the universe or a higher power, or do they think that the idea of fate is bogus? why?

🍏 - if you have any queer headcanons for your f/o, how did they realize they were queer?

🍐 - does your f/o have any nervous ticks or idle quirks they do? like mindlessly tapping on a desk or fiddling with their hair when they're stressed?

🥝 - would your f/o ever let you do their make-up? what does their make-up process look like? is it simple? complex?

🫒 - what kind of hugger is your f/o? do they give good hugs? do they like hugs? do they like receiving hugs?

🫐 - is your f/o more of a writer or an artist? would you say your f/o is more left or right brained?

🍇 - if you and your f/o never met, what do you think your f/o would be doing right now?

🥥 - what hobbies does your f/o have? is there any hobby they would like to get into that they haven't tried out yet? what is it?

🍅 - if your f/o could buy you any gift in the world, whether it exists or not, what would they buy you? or, if they could make you something, what would it be?

🌶️ - does your f/o have any remedies they follow when they get sick? like taking a shot of whiskey to get rid of a fever?

🫚 - is your f/o a picky eater? is there any foods they will not under any circumstances, gun to their head, eat?

🥕 - when your f/o was little, did they dislike vegetables? do they still dislike them?

🧅 - what makes your f/o cry? do they get emotional at sad movies or books? do they only get emotional under very rare circumstances?

🌽 - does your f/o have a favorite animal? what is it? are they scared of any animals?

🥦 - does your f/o have any pet peeves? things that just really really get on their nerves? what are they and why?

🥒 - what's your f/o afraid of? do they have any phobias? anything minor they're scared of?

🥬 - what are some beige flags your f/o has? so, not bad, but not nessecarily good either. just. "oh. you do This."

🫛 - how does your f/o feel about pet names or nicknames? do they like them? hate them? what are their favorites and least favorites to be called and to use?

🫑 - how does your f/o feel about death? are they afraid of it? is there anything specific they'd like to do before they die?

🥑 - is there any niche topics your f/o is interested in? what are they and why do they like them?

🍠 - what are a few of your f/os favorite pastimes or things that they do when they're bored?

🍆 - does your f/o have a favorite scent? why is it their favorite? do they have a least favorite scent?

🧄 - does your f/o have any allergies? food or otherwise?

🥔 - does your f/o have any food dishes they make often? is there any foods you make for your f/o that they enjoy?

🍄‍🟫 - if your f/o could be any mythological species, what would they be? if your f/o is already a mythological species, would they ever want to be human?

I recommend practicing reblog karma ! people love infodumping about their f/os :) I also recommend sending more than one emoji at a time,,, there are Many here...!!!

[scoupsakakitty]

Beautiful | idol!Hoshi x idolxReader | angst, fluff

Tw: weight loss, not feeling enough

The rain poured relentlessly, blurring the neon lights of Seoul into streaks of color as Hoshi stood outside the apartment building. His fingers clenched around the umbrella handle, though he wasn’t sure why he had bothered bringing it. He was already soaked, and something about the cold seemed fitting.

He hesitated before pressing the buzzer.

Silence.

Then, a static-laced voice: "Who is it?"

Hearing her voice after all this time nearly broke him. "It’s me."

A long pause. Too long.

"Go home, Soonyoung."

He swallowed. "I just want to see you. Please."

"Don’t you have something better to do? Like catching a flight to Japan?" she said bitterly.

"I’ll take the next flight," he replied without hesitation. "You’re more important."

More silence, then a click. The door unlocked. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped inside.

Y/N was thinner than he remembered. The weight loss was noticeable even under the oversized hoodie she wore, sleeves pulled over trembling fingers. Her once-bright eyes were dull, lips slightly chapped, the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could fix settled deep in her features.

Seeing her like this made his chest tighten. This wasn’t the Y/N he knew.

"You shouldn’t be here," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Hoshi ignored the warning, stepping inside fully. "I had to see you. I had to know if you were okay."

She let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Do I look okay to you?"

No. She looked like she had been barely holding on, like she had been drowning in something she couldn’t escape from. And the worst part? He hadn’t been there to pull her out.

"I’ve been watching you… on stage, in interviews, award shows. You’re disappearing, Y/N. You’re hurting," he admitted, voice raw. "Your friend reached out to me. She’s worried. And she thought maybe… maybe I could help."

Her eyes flashed. "And what? You think you can just come back and fix me? That your presence will magically make things better?"

"No," he whispered. "But I can be here. I can hold you up if you let me."

She scoffed. "You left, Soonyoung. And now you want to be my savior?"

"I never stopped caring," he said, his voice shaking. "I never stopped loving you."

That was the breaking point. Her lips trembled, and before she could stop herself, she collapsed into his arms.

"It’s so hard, Soonyoung," she sobbed into his chest. "No matter what I do, there’s always something wrong with me. I’m never pretty enough, never talented enough. Always too much or too little. They find every flaw, every mistake. The pressure is… it’s crushing me."

He held her tightly, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Y/N, listen to me. You are the most beautiful person in the world. And not because of how you look. You are beautiful for the way you think, for the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about something you love, for your ability to make people smile without trying."

She clung to him, her breathing ragged.

"I am proud of you," he continued. "I am proud of you for trying, even when it hurts. I wish I could tell you when you’ll finally feel okay again, when your head will be above water, but healing isn’t something you can time. It isn’t something you can measure. But things will get lighter, little by little, as you break through the weight on your shoulders. Keep facing what you need to face. You are getting closer every single day, even if it doesn’t feel that way. And I hope you start to believe that you are worthy of everything you want in this life. You deserve to be adored and cared for in every way your mind, body, and heart long for. You are effortlessly beautiful. You are the embodiment of beauty. Don’t let anyone tell you differently."

She sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Why do you still love me? After everything?"

He smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "The only feeling stronger than my love for you is the ache that comes with missing you. I love everything about you. Maybe too much. But how could I not love that smile, that laughter, those eyes, that passion?"

Her breath hitched, fresh tears pooling in her eyes.

"I hate you," she whispered, voice trembling.

"I know," he said softly, pressing his forehead against hers. "Hate me all you want. Just let me stay."

She let out a shuddering breath and, after what felt like an eternity, nodded against his chest.

Soonyoung held her, his arms tightening around her fragile frame, and for the first time in months, she let herself lean into the warmth she had been missing.

Outside, the rain kept falling, washing away the past, making room for something new.

[00valentina-writes00]

How about sevika with a terminally sick gf. I really loved the one you wrote for vi

♡♥︎Sevika with a terminally ill girlfriend♥︎♡

♥︎ Sevika doesn’t show much, but she’s absolutely destroyed when she finds out. There’s a crack in her usually unflappable armor, a flicker of vulnerability she tries to bury beneath her usual hard edges.

♥︎ She doesn’t talk about it much, but she starts keeping tabs on doctors, researching treatments, and trying to get her hands on any illegal or experimental cures she can afford. She won’t let you give up, even if you’re already resigned.

♥︎ Her usual harshness turns into something colder. She doesn’t waste time with anything unnecessary. If she’s going to help you, it’s going to be in the most effective way possible. No sentimental words, just straight to the point: “I’ll fix this. You’re not dying on me.”

♥︎ When you start getting weaker, she gets more demanding. She pushes you to eat, to stay awake, to fight. She’s relentless because if she doesn’t see you fight, it breaks her apart

♥︎ There are nights when she stays up late, arms crossed, staring out at the dark streets of Zaun, thinking about ways to make you better. Even the shimmer she injects into her system doesn’t offer any comfort when she watches you fade.

♥︎ She spends hours researching obscure treatments, bargaining with shady figures, doing whatever it takes to extend your life, even if it’s just a few more weeks or days. It doesn’t matter how much it costs.

♥︎ At some point, she starts finding herself hovering at your side all the time. She doesn’t want to leave. Not even to sleep. It becomes a strange routine for her, a kind of forced comfort where the silence between you is full of things neither of you are brave enough to say.

♥︎ If you’re awake enough, she’ll push your hair out of your face, but she won’t look you in the eyes. She doesn��t know how to handle the emotions you bring out in her, and it terrifies her.

♥︎ She never asks you how you’re feeling or if you want to talk about it, because she’s afraid you’ll say that you’re giving up. She can’t handle hearing it from your lips, even though she knows deep down you’re right.

♥︎ She starts to get more agitated, snapping at people who are just trying to help because nothing feels like it’s good enough. If anyone says something remotely positive about your situation, she shuts them down hard. She can’t pretend like there’s hope when there’s none.

♥︎ When you can’t leave the bed anymore, Sevika starts bringing everything to you. Food, water, medicine, books to distract you—anything to keep you from slipping further into the darkness.

♥︎ She never shows her tears, but sometimes when she thinks you’re sleeping, she finds herself staring at you, face etched with raw pain, her jaw clenched tight to hold back the wave of emotions that threatens to drown her.

♥︎ Her temper is worse than usual. She’s quick to lash out at others, mostly because she’s so incredibly fucking scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of not being able to save you. And she hates herself for not being able to fix it.

♥︎ She makes herself scarce around people when it gets worse. She’s quieter, more brooding, because the weight of her guilt and helplessness is too heavy to share. The only place she feels even a little bit in control is by your side.

♥︎ On the nights you’re too weak to speak, she holds your hand with a tightness that borders on painful. Her touch is demanding, like she’s afraid you’ll slip away in the blink of an eye.

♥︎ She doesn’t let you see her fear. Every day is a reminder of how much she’s failing you. And every time she sees that spark of hope in your eyes, it drives her mad because she knows she can’t keep it alive forever.

♥︎ As things worsen, she starts avoiding the topic of your death. It feels like a betrayal every time someone mentions it. She ignores the reality, pretending there’s a chance things will magically improve.

♥︎ When you do finally die, it feels like she’s been hit by a freight train. The finality of it leaves her in a state of shock, unable to process it. She doesn’t cry in front of you, not even when she closes your eyes for the last time.

♥︎ Sevika keeps busy after your passing. She throws herself into work, into anything that will distract her from the empty space beside her. She stops sleeping, drinking herself into oblivion, until her body can’t keep up with her broken heart.

♥︎ There are days when the memories hit her in waves. She can still hear your voice in her head, your laugh, the way you’d complain when she pushed too hard. And every time, it feels like a weight she can’t shake.

♥︎ People stop asking her how she’s doing because it’s obvious. She doesn’t need words anymore. The silence speaks for her. She’s the same outwardly—cold, distant—but internally, she’s unraveling, a mess of emotions she doesn’t know how to deal with.

♥︎ She tries to convince herself it’s better this way. You aren’t suffering anymore, and she can’t deny that you were getting worse. But she also knows she’ll never be the same again. That part of her is gone, taken by something she could never control.

♥︎ In the long run, Sevika doesn’t let anyone get close to her again. The wound you left in her will never heal, and she doesn’t think anyone could ever fill the hole you left behind. Not that she’s ready for that anyway

♥︎ But every now and then, when she’s alone, she lets herself think back to you. To the time you spent together, how you made her laugh, how you made her feel alive again. And she lets herself grieve the woman who was once hers.

[delightfulgingersnaps]

"I'm listening." "What do you want?" "Here we go again." "Ready if I must be." "I could do with some wine." "Dastardly deeds await."

"Can I *help* you?" "Do you know what the worst part of being on the road is? The lack of a warm bed and bath. Gods, what I wouldn't give for an inn. A tavern. Hotspring, maybe?" "...Has anyone seen my spellbook?" "Touch me again and I'll turn you into a particularly ugly sheep."

3. "I've got it." "Let's do this." "Failure is not an option." "Spells at the ready."

4. "I'm a wizard, not a rogue." "If I must."

8. "No! We cannot do this without you!" "I cannot do this without you! Get up! Now!"

9. "I've got you." "Hush now, this will help." "Better than ever." "Good as new."

11. "My beloved." "A kiss, perhaps?" "A safe place to rest." "A moment of peace."

12. "Locked. Now where did that vampire run off to?"

13. "The gods must be testing me."

17. "Not bad for nearly dying on a daily basis." "Is that a grey hair?" "Is that a wrinkle? Oh, no, it's just a scratch."

Tav Banter and Dialogue

What would your Tav/Durge say if they could say unique dialogue?

Drop an ask with the name of my Tav or Durge and a few numbers, and I'll respond with a few lines they would say in that scenario! Or, tag someone to take on the Tav Banter/Dialogue Challenge and see if they'll answer a few of these prompts!

Combat/Movement

1. Clicking on them once (non-combat) 2. Spam clicking on them too many times 3. Directing them to attack/move in combat 4. Hiding/sneaking/hidden movement 5. Taking a short rest 6. Low health/asking for healing 7. Attacked by a party member 8. Companion/romance death reactions 9. Going to buff/heal a companion/romance 10. Sending them to talk to an NPC 11. Sending them to talk to their romanced partner

Interacting with Items

12. Encountering a locked chest/door 13. Picking a lock 14. Looking at a globe 15. Looking at an astrolabe 16. Looking at a telescope 17. Looking in a mirror 18. Looking at a nonmagical lamp 19. Noticing a trap 20. Can’t fit into a small hole

Location Comments and Party Banters

21. Comments/reactions near an Act 1 location 22. Comments/reactions near an Act 2 location 23. Comments/reactions near an Act 3 location 24. Lines said in the Morphic Pool or High Hall 25. Party banter with Astarion 26. Party banter with Gale 27. Party banter with Wyll 28. Party banter with Karlach 29. Party banter with Lae'zel 30. Party banter with Shadowheart 31. Party banter with Halsin 32. Party banter with Jaheira 33. Party banter with Minthara 34. Party banter with Minsc

Bonus (Misc, some companion dialogues)

35. How would your Tav/Durge greet a player character if they were a companion at low, neutral, high, or romanced approval? 36. What are some situational dialogues they would say when something happens to another companion or you talk to them while in a quest-specific location (such as commenting on Karlach's heart, Elminster visiting Gale, visiting Cazador's mansion, etc)? 37. How would they respond to a player character prompting them with, "Tell me about yourself"? 38. If a player character asks them to consider consuming tadpoles or using the Astral tadpoles, how would your Tav/Durge respond? 39. If romanceable, what lines would they say if a player character prompted them with, "Can I kiss you?" 40. If romanceable, what would they say if a player character asks for a "last kiss" at the Morphic Pool/HIgh Hall?

[kawhh]

I apologise in advance. I'm on a Jack binge. A Jack being manipulative towards his innocent friend binge. Enjoy.

1.9k words.

Warnings: Jack being manipulative, 'forcing' you into situations. Abusing your emotions. Non-con in a way. You aren't aware of what's going on.

He'd taken a hard knock into the boards at the end of a long roadie. Brushed off the medical staff even though his whole side is painted black and blue. Every step makes him hiss, biting his jersey and lip to not alert anyone to how bad he is.

Struggling through the pain to dress after the game, shoving the loosest clothing he owns on his body, not having the strength to squeeze into something.

Side throbbing so much that it feels like a burn, every accidental touch against the bruises feeling like it's being prodded with an branding stick.

He's just missed you. Needs to visit you. He can't have the medical staff holding him back, wanting to assess him. He'll be fine. He can cope, he's had worse. Just needs to get to your place. You'll take care of him. He'll get to see you adorably worried about him, playing nurse.

You'll be all over him, touching his bare skin, innocently feeling him up.. he's taking that over the medical staff all day.

Texting you on the way out of the locker room, giving you plenty of warm up time to panic. Not answering your follow up texts, wanting to see the pure panic on your face when he gets there.

Resting his head on the steering wheel in the parking lot, trying to breathe through the pain. Getting to you is gonna be horrific. Every single time he moves his leg it's going to strain his side. Every arm movement that makes him stretch is going to sting.

He just has to keep reminding himself that it's worth it. Every second of suffering.

He's staggering up to your door, feeling a little dizzy and disorientated, resting on the door before he knocks. He barely has to wait.

You're so cute.. the tears streaming down your face for him when you see how banged up and exhausted he is. He's playing it up a bit, hanging his head, moaning in pain. You're so delicate when you try and lead him to the couch, hesitating to even touch you.

Letting himself fall back when he's close enough, using it as a reason to lightly drag his hand down your body. He's just trying to find his balance, obviously.

Lifting the edge of his shirt, hiding his smirk as he sees your face light up red, your hands trembling. A glimpse of his abs and you're already like this? You don't even know what's coming.. he almost feels bad. Almost.

"Angel, need you to help.. can't reach that far down. You'll help me, yeah? You got any of those ice packs I left here last time?"

You're rushing off in a panic, almost tripping as you run to grab a pack, blushing deeper at the thought of having to touch him, having to be that close to his.. thing.

Stripping his shirt off fully when you're gone, not wanting you to realise that he's already feeling better than when he left the arena. You need to think he's a wreck.

He's pulling you closer, staring up at you, eyes half-lidded as you stress about touching him, just letting it happen. You're cute enough to eat. The flush is slowly advancing down your chest. Stammering before you hold the ice pack against his skin. That gets a real hiss out of him.

He can't resist reaching up to lightly tug the strand of hair falling down your face.

"That.. that wasn't so bad, was it? Am I really that awful to touch?"

He can barely hide his smirk as you rush to apologise, resting your hand on more of his skin as a way of apologising.

"Hey.. d'me a favour? It's kind of personal.. so if you're really against touching me, I won't be mad."

He can't help it. You're so easy to tease. You almost look like you're gonna cry, he's pretty sure those are tears forming in your eyes. You really do think you're being cruel to him while he's banged up.. so innocent, so gullible. You're nodding like a bobblehead. Wanting to do anything for him.

"Can you.. can you help me in the shower? Didn't get the chance to have one before I left.. it'll help with the soreness."

He's slinging his arm around your neck before you can even fully agree. Tightening his grip a little just to see you panic and react. Putting more weight on you than he needs, wanting to force you closer to him. You're having to wrap an arm around his waist. Your touch feels like a brand on his skin, it's addicting.

Stumbling together towards the shower, you're resting him up against the shower wall. He can't let you go that easy. Can't just let you leave now. You'll have too much time to think. Too much time to startle.

"Angel.. I'm feeling dizzy, can you.. can you stay in here? The shower's massive.. can you come sit in here? You won't get wet. If you don't, I might fall..."

He can see how hesitant you are, but the threat of him injuring himself is enough for you to be fighting against your embarrassment. He knows you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if he was hurt. He'll even stumble a little bit against the wall, holding his head like he's in distress.

You look like a little bunny, the way you slowly walk over, sitting as far away from him as you can get in the shower. How small you look on the floor.. the way you can barely look at him.

"Can you.. can you help me strip? Hurts too much when I try and pull my pants off..?"

The way you squeak in panic is intoxicating. The way your hand shakes as you reach out, terrified that you'll accidentally expose him. The way your cheeks puff out in concentration.

"Don't worry.. I'll keep my boxers on. Wouldn't want to traumatize my best friend now would I?"

Resting against the shower wall, hair covering his face as he watches you. Observes. You're trying so hard to not look at his dick. Have you even seen one before? Ever been like this with someone? Is he the first to share this with you? He's getting hard just thinking about it.

Turning on the water to try and calm himself down, hoping he can calm down what's surely a clear tent in his boxers. Even the sound of the water makes you startle, you're so on edge.

"Angel... can you.. can you come closer? The wall isn't enough.. I'm gonna fall."

You're slowly creeping towards him like he's a predator. Every inch you move makes it harder for you to avoid looking at him. Harder for you to ignore his cock. The way you're flushing only confirms his theories. The feel of you against his legs, the way you rest against them.. head filling with dangerous thoughts as you look at up at him, all wide eyed.

Would you look up at him like that if he just.. forced you to suck him off? If he just.. locked the bathroom door and caged you in. Told you that it'd make him feel better. Would you cry if he slapped your face with his cock? Would you even be able to look at him? Would you choke? Fuck.. you'd look so cute.

"Here.. you're getting wet. Why don't you sit more between my legs? Can't have you getting sick while you're being such a good friend, taking care of me."

He's forcing you in with his hand, feeling your head rest against his thigh. Struggling to hold back a laugh at how his cock is basically resting on your head at this point. He can't see your face now but he bets it's priceless. You aren't even trying to squirm away. Too afraid that he'll fall.. thinking he's not doing it on purpose.

He'll let you calm down for now.. as much as you can. Taking his time washing his hair, enjoying the feel of you. Washing his body in your usual scent, making sure that you're directly under the suds that wash off. He needs you soaked for later..

"Close your eyes f'me a sec? Need to wash under my boxers.."

He's reaching past his waistband before your eyes are even fully closed, half resting his hand against your head as he grips himself tightly.

Slowly dragging his hand up and down his cock, feeling his hand drag against your head at the same time. Slow enough to not raise too many flags in your innocent little mind. You're too nervous to open your eyes, to question why he's taking so long. Scared to ask what the occasional noise is..

What if he.. with how innocent you are.. could he pretend that it's shower gel? Could he..?

He's lowering his boxers to give him more room before he can fully think it through. It'll be fine. You won't open your eyes. He's basically fucking his fist now. His head throbbing. Pre-cum drenching his hand. Fuck. Even that's falling on your hair.. look so pretty already. Mixing with the water falling on you, watching it follow the curves of your body.. he can't hold back.

He's cumming in his fist, watching it drip through his fingers, watching it land on you. His. His fucking girl. His girl being soaked by him. You don't even make a noise. You're clearly his. Fuck, what'd he give you fully cum on your face. To make you watch. To fuck it into your mouth with his fingers.. baby steps.

Tipping his head back against the cold shower walls, needing the chill to help keep his head straight. You're so pure. Friends.. he can't help the smirk that forms on his face. You really think friends do this.. so adorable.

He's dragging his boxers back up, needing to look at your face again. Needing to see if there's any cum on your face. Needing to try something new with you.

"Angel.. you can open your eyes now. I feel a little better, just needed the hot water to relax."

The way you're looking up at him almost sets him off again. Most of it's washed off.. but there's enough still on your body to make him feel feral. Dragging his tongue across his lip as he watches it wash off into the drain.

"You got a little dirty... can I.. wash you off? I don't want your skin getting dry from the suds."

The cum's made him more impatient, forcing you up from your knees. His half-lidded gaze returning, fully focus on you, grabbing your chin to make you look at him.

"Such a good friend to me.."

Grabbing your leg, forcing it up against his non-injured side, making you squeak as you wrap your hands around his waist, trying to keep your balance. Edging his hands up your thigh.. resting his fingers where your thighs end.. rubbing against the lace trim of your underwear.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm just.. cleaning you up. You've got suds here. Stay very, very still."

Sliding his fingers past the line, stretching them out, an inch away from touching your cute pussy.. slowly stroking. Hovering his finger over your hole, pushing in slightly before withdrawing, snapping your underwear back in place. Giving your ass the littlest slap.

"There's my good girl.. all cleaned up. So lucky to have a friend like you.."

[doppel-doodles]

A normal post a about Kevin Barnes from Poppy Playtime.

I genuinely feel so bad for Kevin…

Like that was a kid who clearly had a lot of issues from the start, instead of getting the help he needed all that happened was him being marked off as a „problem child“.

And then he was turned into a toy:/

Read more of my full thoughts and a sorta character analysis/ramblings below cut!

Like honestly no wonder he is seething if he wasn’t troubled before he definitely is now-

Obviously he has no trust in anyone, almost every adult he ever knew screwed him over in some way, hell even the kids he shares a body with would go against what he would do.

(Great example: When Doey chases us in his monster form, it's the arms of Matthew and Jack that are trying to keep his mouth from biting us, Kevin's are trying to grab for us.)

He was hurt over and over again, clearly he wasn’t aggressive just because he wanted to be but because this was his only way of making sure he wouldn’t get hurt.

It was how he had a semblance of control, a sense of protection.

But of course the irony is: That coping mechanism brought him more pain, it was what got him killed.

Sure, maybe he could've just "calmed down", but why would he? He was hurt again, he lost everything AGAIN.

All because he listened to their judgement over his own. Kevin could've killed the player and Poppy on sight, clearly his emotions easily overpowered the other two, but he didn't.

Instead he agreed to trust them as well.

He was still willing to do that, surely if he were just a mindless monster he wouldn't be.

And you know what? I believe he blames himself just as much if not more for what happened than he blames us and Poppy and projects it tenfold.

Because maybe, JUST MAYBE-

If he didn't allow himself to trust again, then everyone would still be alive.

But he did...now see what that got him?

In his mind he's proven right.

So what's an emotionally unstable child to do? After being hurt AGAIN?

That's right.

He lashes out at the first thing he sees that had something to do with his pain:

Us.

Is he in the right? Hell nah- bro we didn't mean for that to happen! But do you seriously think this kid is thinking rationally right now??? NO! He is seeing red right now, he is in fight mode! All emotions and must I reiterate that the only way he knows how to express them is through anger and violence?

There is NO reasoning with wrath try as you might! And that hurts because yeah maybe you could've dealt with that if he was still a gradeschooler but he isn't! He is 900 pounds of living dough with a thirst for blood!

It's either our life or his now. And we already know what the outcome of that is.

Honestly I think it's better that we only hear Matthew and Jack apologise for what happened, I do not think Kevin would even if he did feel bad for what he had done.

Because why would someone who has been scorned so many times be vulnerable all of the sudden? When his main character trait is biting at those who bark at him?Why would all that rage suddenly disappear? If anything the stress of dying only causes him to lash out more.

You don't need an apology from him to feel bad for him.

He is hurting anyone with two eyes can see that and for what it's worth, I do believe deep down he knew what he was doing was wrong but it was too late for him to see any other alternatives and even if he didn't and thought he was right for doing what he did it doesn't take away from the fact that he was fucked over by life.

Kevin is not the worst part of Doey, he is just a part of him.

And that part is not just a violent hunk of playdough.

It’s a scared, confused little boy that cared just as much about every toy in safe haven as his other two components did.

Because if he didn’t why would he get so angry about their death?

Anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk-

Also feel free to agree or disagree with my take, those are just my thoughts so let me hear yours, I like discussions:}

[seitmai]

Many thoughts

“Better now that I’m taking you back to our place,” he said. There was that spring in his step again, like he was allowed to be happy since he knew you were really okay after walking home alone.

His happiness very much depends on her, and little too much if you ask me 🥴

When someone like Bucky had the kind of money he did, you imagined he’d drop just about anything to spend time with you and it wouldn’t make a dent in his pocketbook. Even if he lost everything tomorrow, it would be the same. Somehow you’d come first.

For sure

“Steve insisted on talking to you about that double date.” Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and refused to let his friend take the bags from his hands. He really didn’t want anyone else carrying your things or opening doors for you. “He’s stubborn, but you get used to it after a while.” “I’m stubborn?” Steve chuckled. “Pot meet kettle.”

Lol for real

“Well, we can talk about how excited Bucky is that you’re spending the night,” Steve teased. “I think she knows,” Bucky smirked, your cheeks hot. Did the whole gang feed into his delusion of what would happen if you stayed over?

I'm sure they do 🫠

“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Bucky assured you, cupping your cheeks. “She’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.” “For now, she is,” Steve muttered under his breath.

Geez 🥴

“We still don’t know the angle.” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “He could be doing it to show that can get to people close to you.” “Like you with Addison and Brady?” you asked. Nick was Brady’s boss now, and it was clear that it wasn’t a coincidence.

Nice call out lol

“How about I find a way to relax and still go out tomorrow?” you suggested. “You’re really determined to go. And here I thought Steve and I were the stubborn ones,” he smirked, guiding you into the penthouse. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room and I’ll put your stuff in the bedroom?”

She sure is and she should stay like that!

“Because you like being near me,” he said, your eyes rounding. “You slept beside me last night and you want to experience that again. Either that or being near me makes you feel safer than you want to admit.” You scoffed. “No, that’s…” You shook your head. “I mean, no. That’s just-” He gently smiled. “It's okay to admit. It'll be our secret.”

Oop👀

You tried not to choke up. It felt romantic, but you appreciated how thoughtful it was. “I…” You had to clear your throat. “I brought pajamas.” “I know, but I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled. “They’re your size and I think you’ll like them.”

That is actually very thoughtful

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched. “Of course I won’t. This is your relaxing time,” he promised, kissing your forehead again as you breathed easier. “And like I said, I have a few things to do.” You felt a little sheepish at his expression. “I’m sorry. I just…” “Nothing to apologize for. I don't blame you for double checking.” He patted your backside with a gentle hand. “Just enjoy your time.”

I mean is brought this distrust on himself 🤷🏻‍♀️

“Bucky, you didn’t have to-” “I don't have to do anything, but I wanted to. Do you like it?”

That's the spirit 🤭

“This is all thoughtful, but aren't I supposed to be making it up to you?” He frowned a little at your expression. “You being here is more than enough.” His fingers barely grazed your cheek. “Are you okay?”

👀

You avoided his gaze when you opened your eyes. “That’s all you want?” you asked. He hadn’t dragged you to bed once you arrived, but he also didn’t say that he didn’t want something. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip. “Well, I won’t lie to you. I want you, but I'm not pushing you. This is the first time you came to me willingly, and I want to cherish it.” You shivered at his touch. “Yeah, I did come here willingly,” you said. Sort of.

True...

“Stay home with me tomorrow,” he whispered, sitting up with you in his lap still. “We don’t have to go anywhere. We can spend the whole day together.” “No,” you said firmly. You were going out with your friends and that was final. “Send Ray or someone to watch over me. I’ll be back before you know it.”

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

You tensed and tried to push yourself up, but he grabbed you and situated you over one of his massive thighs. He had a firm hold on you and it made your heart pound. “I don't want you to be scared. I'll take such good care of you.” “I just… I’m not…” If he took you to bed, there’d be no turning back, and you had to maintain some control. “You’re not ready for that,” he stated, his eyes still dark. Shaking your head, it worried you how he’d take it. But he suddenly started moving you over his thigh, hard and slow. “Okay, Kotyonok. I won't put my tongue or fingers in you just yet, but I still want to make you feel good.”

I totally get that she wants to have at least a little bit control..

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, rocking you over his thigh again and sitting up, desperately pressing his lips to your neck. “You'll never have to beg for anything you want. Just ask or tell me and it's yours.”

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

And breathing hard, you surprised both of you by leaning in and kissing him. He let out a deep moan, kissing you back with everything he had as he held you closer. You were still shaking from your orgasm, and you could blame that for the reason why you kissed him. And he behaved, not letting his hands wander as his tongue moved with yours.

Ohh 👀

His smile confused you. “But… you didn’t…” you trailed off. He was hard in his pants, and you hadn’t gotten him off. You selfishly got yourself off on his thigh with his encouragement. “That doesn't matter,” he assured you, kissing the tip of your nose. “You trusted me enough to make you feel good.”

Ngl that's kinda hot 🤭

He tucked your head under his chin and wrapped one of the blankets around you. “I know you're still a bit scared and you don’t want to trust me, and that’s okay. It’s scary to let someone like me in after everything.”

That's actually really sweet 🥹

He rubbed your back and you noticed how relaxed he was. He was content to just hold you. Like an actual couple. Exactly what he wanted. And if he noticed a tear streaming down your cheek when you eventually fell asleep in his arms, he thoughtfully kept that to himself.

Uff what an ending 🥴

Hold You Tight: Part 17

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 16 | Series Masterlist | Part 18

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.9k

Chapter Summary: You take a step further in your relationship with Bucky.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon elements, dirty talk, thigh riding, tension, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You tried to occupy yourself as you waited for Bucky to pick you up. You made sure you had your outfit for tomorrow and sent Addison a text to confirm when and where you were meeting. God, what if Bucky insisted on dropping you off? He likely would. There was no way he’d let you head over on your own, unless Ray or someone dropped you off.

“What am I doing?” you muttered.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you frowned. You had changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable. He would think you looked sexy no matter what you wore, even if you didn’t try. What was he going to expect or demand from you? There was no way you’d go through the entire evening in his home without him touching you or something.

You weren’t sure if the anticipation was worse or knowing he’d probably make your body enjoy whatever he’d do to you, and use that as a weapon against you.

The knock on your door made you jump. Had two hours passed already? You checked the peephole and saw Bucky on the other side, shifting from one foot to the other. At least he didn’t break his way inside like he could’ve easily done.

“Hi.” You slowly opened the door to let him in. “I-”

Bucky had you against the wall before you could finish, his lips insistently pressing against yours. The kiss only lasted seconds, but it felt like hours when he pulled away. “Don’t walk home alone again,” he whispered with a brief flash of fear in his eyes.

You nodded after a moment. The conversation from earlier was still on his mind, clearly. “I won’t.”

“You look beautiful by the way.” Taking a breath, he ran both hands through his hair and straightened up. He looked like his normal self again, and you knew it. No matter what he’d find you attractive. “Is this everything?” he asked, picking up the overnight bag and garment bag that you had left by the door.

“Yeah, it should be,” you said, making sure you had your phone and purse, too.

“Was the rest of your day okay?” he asked, watching carefully as you locked the door.

“It was fine,” you replied. You were so busy thinking about Bucky that you hadn’t thought much about Clark. “Was yours?”

“Better now that I’m taking you back to our place,” he said. There was that spring in his step again, like he was allowed to be happy since he knew you were really okay after walking home alone.

“You don’t have to go to the club tonight?” you asked.

“Only if there’s an emergency. There’s no special event tonight, no reason to make an appearance, and my staff knows how to take care of the place,” he assured you. “Time with you is much more important than that.”

When someone like Bucky had the kind of money he did, you imagined he’d drop just about anything to spend time with you and it wouldn’t make a dent in his pocketbook. Even if he lost everything tomorrow, it would be the same. Somehow you’d come first.

Once you were outside, you were surprised to find Steve standing by Bucky’s car instead of Ray. “Hi,” the blonde smiled with a row of perfect teeth.

“Hi,” you replied, stepping a bit closer to Bucky. Steve was his best friend, but you still didn’t know him well. What you did know was that he had his own woman he was stalking.

“Steve insisted on talking to you about that double date.” Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and refused to let his friend take the bags from his hands. He really didn’t want anyone else carrying your things or opening doors for you. “He’s stubborn, but you get used to it after a while.”

“I’m stubborn?” Steve chuckled. “Pot meet kettle.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bucky smiled, helping you into the car.

The interaction between the two of them was so natural and easy. You imagined that in another life they were decent men who fought for others instead of trapping them. “So, what exactly did you want to talk about?” you asked once you took off.

“Well, we can talk about how excited Bucky is that you’re spending the night,” Steve teased.

“I think she knows,” Bucky smirked, your cheeks hot. Did the whole gang feed into his delusion of what would happen if you stayed over?

“Did you want to talk about the double date?” you asked, hoping the topic switch would help.

“Well, my girl likes art and Bucky mentioned how you sometimes like to relax with a glass of wine,” Steve began, smiling at you in the mirror. “So, I was thinking, we could do one of those wine and painting classes. Just the four of us.”

“But if you didn’t want to do a painting, they do something similar with pottery where everyone can pick their own piece to paint,” Bucky said, slipping an arm over your shoulders.

“Dinner before the painting, too. It would be really nice for you two to talk,” Steve continued, tapping a finger on the steering wheel. “She’s a sweet girl with a big heart, but she doesn’t have many friends nearby like you do.”

“I mean, I’m fine with painting a canvas or pottery. I think we should let her choose since art is one of her passions.” Your heart went out to the girl. Was that why Steve set his sights on her? Did he feel like he was rescuing her in some sense? “And does she have a preference on wine? White or red? Sweet or dry? Maybe I can pick a bottle for her while I’m at the vineyard tomorrow.”

Steve glanced at you again in the mirror, impressed. “That’s very considerate of you,” he said, sharing a quick look with Bucky, too. “And she likes sparkling sweet wine.”

“I have a very considerate girl,” Bucky boasted, kissing your temple. “You really are thoughtful.”

“I try to be,” you whispered, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I’m sure Bucky will give me the details once it’s set up,” you said, not finding it in you to argue since you were outnumbered.

“He will,” Steve smiled, clearing his throat. “And now that we have that out of the way…”

“Really, punk?” Bucky asked, tightening his hand on our shoulder.

You sat up a little. All the warmth had left his voice, and he tensed up beside you. “What’s going on?”

“Tell her, Buck,” Steve urged.

You held your breath. Was this about earlier in the day when Ray spoke with Bucky? “Yes, please, tell me.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Mrs. Crandle wasn’t at work today, was she?” he asked as if he already knew the answer.

“No, she…” Your eyes widened. Kate said she called out for some business reason. “Oh, my god. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Bucky assured you, cupping your cheeks. “She’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“For now, she is,” Steve muttered under his breath.

“Just shut up and drive,” Bucky ordered when you gasped. “The reason she was suddenly out of work today was because of Zemo.”

Your heart sank. What the hell would Zemo want with Mrs. Crandle? “What do you mean?”

“From what we’ve gathered, he met up with her to tell her that she won an all expenses paid trip to a flower expo. She was shocked since she didn’t remember even entering the contest, but he told her someone anonymously registered her,” he explained. “He asked questions about some of her employees in case she wanted to bring anyone from her shop along and your name came up.”

“But why?” you asked. Why would Zemo make a contest just to talk to your boss?

“We still don’t know the angle.” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “He could be doing it to show that can get to people close to you.”

“Like you with Addison and Brady?” you asked. Nick was Brady’s boss now, and it was clear that it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Bucky doesn’t have his hand in the shop out of respect for you, and Zemo knows that,” Steve chimed in before Bucky could argue. “So it’s possible that he may be trying to butter Mrs. Crandle up before he makes an offer, whether it’s to offer some kind of protection or to buy out her shop completely.”

The thought of Zemo owning the shop where you worked or having his hand in it made your stomach turn. “She loves her shop, and she’s honest when it comes to business. She wouldn’t want someone stepping in or buying it,” you said, your breathing a bit heavier. “Is she in danger? Is something going to happen to her because of me?”

If something happened to Mrs. Crandle, you’d never forgive yourself.

“It isn’t because of you, Kotyonok. It’s his actions,” Bucky answered. Just like Bucky’s actions put you in the line of fire. “I hesitated telling you because we still need answers, but she’s safe. We also have someone keeping an eye on her, just to exercise caution.”

You exhaled. If Zemo was trying to scare you, it was working. “Please, don’t keep me in the dark,” you said. Even if it scared you, you had to know. “And Mrs. Crandle is one of the most harmless people in the city and the shop is all she has. If he-”

“We won’t let anything happen to her,” Bucky promised. It was a lot to promise. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say something this morning. I just wanted you to have a normal day.”

You understood part of Bucky’s reasoning. Telling you even when she wasn't in immediate danger would've thrown your whole day off. But what was a normal day now? “We deal with ups and downs every day. So just tell me next time something’s going on, especially if it involves someone important to me.” Ignorance isn't bliss in the world Bucky lived in.

He regarded you with a soft smile. “I will.”

You stayed quiet for the remainder of the ride while Bucky and Steve discussed dinner options for the double date night. It would’ve been endearing with how excited they were, had it not been for the fact that you and Steve’s girl didn’t exactly have a choice. What was going to happen at Thor’s party?

And what about your loved ones? Were they safe? You thought being by Bucky’s side would keep them safe from his wrath, but what if Zemo went after them? You had to trust that Bucky and his men wouldn't allow that to happen.

“You two have fun tonight,” Steve winked. “Try not to get too handsy, jerk.”

“What?” you asked, your throat dry once you realized you were at Bucky’s place. God, you were really there. There was no backing out.

“Just get in your car and go, punk,” Bucky chuckled, helping you out and grabbing your things. “He really is excited for you and his girl to become friends.”

“I’ll bet,” you said, giving Steve a small wave for his benefit.

You counted the number of steps from the car to the elevator. This was similar to when he brought you here the first time because you didn’t know what to expect. You weren’t sure if it was better or worse though knowing what you knew now.

“Where’s Ray?” you asked.

“He’s busy,” Bucky answered cryptically, sweeping his gaze over you. “You seem nervous. If you’d rather skip your day out tomorrow, I can help you find a few ways to relax.”

“How about I find a way to relax and still go out tomorrow?” you suggested.

“You’re really determined to go. And here I thought Steve and I were the stubborn ones,” he smirked, guiding you into the penthouse. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room and I’ll put your stuff in the bedroom?”

“Okay,” you breathed, hoping he didn’t notice you trembling as you walked through the place. It felt warmer than the last time you were there, more like the temperature that you kept at your place. And as dangerous as Bucky was, you somehow felt safe being there. Someone like Zemo wasn’t going to get in there. Clark wouldn’t either.

Rubbing your arms, you took a seat on the sofa. It was a beautiful room, but nothing like your living room. It wasn't just the difference in size, but you noticed once again that there were no nicknacks or homey touches. Maybe you could add a pop or color or even some flowers to… Oh, God. You were really thinking of how you’d decorate the place.

“You still look nervous,” Bucky said once he joined you, giving you absolutely no space as he took a seat. “You don’t have to be.”

“I’m not nervous,” you lied, biting your lip. “Okay, I am a little.”

He hummed. “Were you expecting me to drag you to bed?”

You nodded slowly. He behaved himself in the car with Steve there, but now the two of you were alone and you had no idea where Ray was. There was nothing to stop him from taking what he thought belonged to him.

“You thought sex would make it up to me because you walked home alone?”

“No,” you said immediately. You shouldn’t have to give him sex to say you’re sorry, especially when he had a much longer list of things he needed to apologize for. “I just thought this was a natural step in a relationship, you know? Spending the night together.”

A natural step would’ve been him staying at your place, too, but he was certain you would live at his place. And having him in your space, it didn’t feel the same. It was something you wanted to keep sacred.

“It is a natural step, but I don’t think you offered to stay here to make it up to me.”

His statement surprised you. That was part of the reason. If you made it up to him, he wouldn’t object to you going out with your friends. You weren’t going to bring up Clark or that the thought of being alone at your place made you nervous. “Then why else do you think I’m here?” you asked.

“Because you like being near me,” he said, your eyes rounding. “You slept beside me last night and you want to experience that again. Either that or being near me makes you feel safer than you want to admit.”

You scoffed. “No, that’s…” You shook your head. “I mean, no. That’s just-”

He gently smiled. “It's okay to admit. It'll be our secret.”

You shook your head again. Admitting that being in his arms wasn’t terrible and that his place did feel safer than yours at the moment would give him another win. “I'm not admitting anything.”

The smile on his face widened. “Is it because I'm right and you don't want me to be right?”

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said, standing and crossing your arms. “I should just go.”

“No, no, no. I’ll stop teasing. Please stay,” he nearly begged, getting to his feet, too. “How about I run you a bath and you can relax?”

“...A bath?” you asked. It wasn’t fair. He knew how much you loved taking baths.

He nodded. “A warm bath and a glass of wine, too.”

You uncrossed your arms, avoiding his hopeful gaze. It was a bit of a rough day, on top of a rough week. You deserved to relax. “Okay, that actually sounds really nice.”

He smiled and offered his hand. “I have bath bombs or salts if you want those, too. Anything to help you relax.”

“You have bath bombs?” you asked, your curiosity peaked. “What kind?”

“I have honeysuckle, lavender, vanilla,” he smiled softly. Each scent sounded like something that would help make the stress leave your body. “Let me show you.”

You let him lead the way you were pretty sure most of your apartment could fit inside the luxurious bathroom. The inviting tub almost made you burst into happy tears. It was nothing like your builder's grade tub. This was an honest to goodness clawfoot tub of your dreams.

“You like it?” Bucky smiled.

Blinking, you remembered Bucky saying how he wanted to fuck you in his tub. Would it be tonight? “I love it,” you admitted.

His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’ll grab a tray and I can bring you a book if you want. Or you can just relax and enjoy your wine.”

“Well.” You thought it over. “I wouldn’t mind a book.”

Bucky nodded and brought the bath bombs out for you to choose from before he ushered you into the bedroom. “Why don't you stay here and pick one out while I'll get everything else you need?”

“Okay,” you said, holding your breath as you stared at the king sized bed. You avoided looking at it when he led you into the bathroom, but now you couldn’t help yourself. That was the bed he expected you to sleep with him in… the bed he’d fuck you and make love to you in. The satin sheets were a dark promise that he’d get everything he wanted and more.

Shaking your head, you carefully picked up each bath bomb and gave them a sniff. Each one smelled better than the last, and your eyes nearly rolled back at the one you selected. You wondered if he had these before you met or if he bought them specifically for you to have available.

Bucky came back after a minute and took your hand, guiding you back into the bathroom. “I’ve got everything all set.” The tub was steaming, candles were lit, and there was a generous glass of wine waiting on the tray with a book. “There's a robe on the back of the door, and I'll make sure fresh pajamas are ready for when you get out.”

You tried not to choke up. It felt romantic, but you appreciated how thoughtful it was. “I…” You had to clear your throat. “I brought pajamas.”

“I know, but I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled. “They’re your size and I think you’ll like them.”

��Thanks.” What other clothes did he have waiting for you? “What will you do while I'm in the tub?”

“I have a couple of calls to make.” He kissed your forehead. “And there's something else I want to set up for you.”

You shook your head. “I think this is more than enough,” you said honestly. He didn’t have to go to the trouble of setting this up. “But…” You fidgeted a little. “You promise you won’t just… barge in, right?”

This was still his home. He could easily make an excuse to go into his bathroom for whatever reason. And being naked in the bathtub, you’d be more vulnerable than normal.

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched. “Of course I won’t. This is your relaxing time,” he promised, kissing your forehead again as you breathed easier. “And like I said, I have a few things to do.”

You felt a little sheepish at his expression. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“Nothing to apologize for. I don't blame you for double checking.” He patted your backside with a gentle hand. “Just enjoy your time.”

With a small smile, he shut the door behind him. You waited a full minute after hearing his footsteps fade before you undressed and added the bath bomb to the tub. The scent brought a smile to your face before you tested the water temperature with your hand. It felt perfect, evident by your sigh once you got in.

You took your time sipping your wine as you began to read. Was this really going to be your bathroom now? Would you relax here after a rough shift or just because you felt like it? How many nights would Bucky insist on joining you?

But the man was, surprisingly, true to his word. He hadn’t disturbed you once. Even after you finished your glass and added more warm water to the tub, he didn’t knock or barge in. Even when you grudgingly got out of the tub and dried off before you pulled the plush robe on, he wasn’t sitting there waiting. Was he actually respecting your boundaries?

Peeking out into the bedroom, Bucky had laid out a pair of soft pajamas like he promised and was still nowhere to be seen. You were still quick to change so he couldn’t sneak a look at you. But where was he?

You thought of calling out when you went to search for him since the lights were dimmed all over the penthouse. Your fingers touched one of the walls. Would he ever hang a picture of his mom up or was it too painful?

Tiptoeing over to the balcony when you saw the door open, you spotted Bucky reading a book, too, and sipping whiskey from a tumbler. He looked completely at ease, lost in his own lonely world, and you weren’t sure if you should disturb him. Turning around, you wondered where you should go. Maybe you could curl up on the couch or something before he could-

“All finished in the bath?”

You froze and turned back toward him, his hair gently blowing in the breeze. “Yeah, sorry. I didn't know what to do when I was done, so I was going to wander around.”

He downed the rest of his glass and smiled. “You're welcome to wander, except into the den which is being redone.” He offered his hand again when he stood. “Did you enjoy your bath?”

“I did. That bath bomb was incredible,” you said. There was no reason to lie. “So was the wine.”

You gulped a little. Oh, god. You didn’t see him pour the glass. Why did you accept that from him? He could’ve put something in it. No, he wouldn’t. He wanted you to want him without that sort of influence.

“I'll get you more. The bath bomb and the wine.” he smiled, leading you back to the living room where he had pillows and blankets set up.

“Bucky, you didn’t have to-”

“I don't have to do anything, but I wanted to. Do you like it?”

You looked at the lush blankets and fluffy pillows. Like the bathroom, it looked like a dream. Looking back at him, you smiled softly at his once again hopeful expression. He carried himself with such confidence and didn't seem to care if he impressed others except for you. “I do. Thank you.”

He smiled, too, his whole face bright. “I thought it would be another good way to relax.”

The memory of Clark walking you home popped in your mind for some reason before you pushed it away. “This is all thoughtful, but aren't I supposed to be making it up to you?”

He frowned a little at your expression. “You being here is more than enough.” His fingers barely grazed your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You blinked and nodded. “I’m fine.”

Bucky considered you and you couldn’t help but fidget again when he pinned you with his gaze. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek and closed your eyes. “I just don't understand why you’re doing all of this.”

He could’ve been manipulating you again, but it actually seemed like he was trying to be a doting boyfriend without expecting anything in return. Your guard was down enough for him to worm his way in, and you all too easily accepted the kind gestures. Why were you making it easy for him?

“You mean setting up the blankets and pillows? I thought we could lay together and watch a movie. Or talk.” His fingers touched your cheek again. “Whatever you want.”

You avoided his gaze when you opened your eyes. “That’s all you want?” you asked. He hadn’t dragged you to bed once you arrived, but he also didn’t say that he didn’t want something.

He ran a thumb over your bottom lip. “Well, I won’t lie to you. I want you, but I'm not pushing you. This is the first time you came to me willingly, and I want to cherish it.”

You shivered at his touch. “Yeah, I did come here willingly,” you said. Sort of.

“And how do you feel being here compared to the first time?”

“Better,” you admitted. You weren’t completely terrified this time, and you also felt like you had some control over. Maybe not much, but some.

“Good. Now, shall we?”

You nodded and allowed Bucky to help you settle into the comfort of the pillows. He pulled you close, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been before. This felt more gentle. More… right.

It should’ve felt wrong.

The room was so quiet and all you could hear for a minute was the gentle sound of his breathing and his heart beating. “What's your favorite color?” you asked. “I don't think you've told me.”

You weren’t sure if you had taken the time to ask because, well, it hadn’t been a real relationship in your eyes. But you needed to know him. Call it acceptance or ammunition. Maybe both.

“Blue,” he answered, his hand absentmindedly moving along your side.

“And your birthday?”

“March 10th.”

“Wait, you're a Pisces?” you smiled a little. “That explains so much.”

He smiled down at you and chuckled. “Oh, does it now?”

You laughed lightly. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re just… you know…” He raised an eyebrow and waited for you to finish. “Emotional.”

“I can't argue with that,” he smiled, leaning in a bit. “Does it explain anything else?”

“Well, you're…” You were a little distracted as he kept rubbing your side. “Intense. Passionate. You want to be close to the person you fall for.”

He fit that to a tee.

His darkened eyes made you lose your breath. “I can’t argue with that either,” he whispered, pulling you close without hesitation and fusing your mouths together.

Bucky held you tight and rolled you over so you were on top of him, his hands skimming your thighs as he made you straddle him. A small sound escaped when he brushed against you, your heart pounding in your ears. “Bucky-”

“Stay home with me tomorrow,” he whispered, sitting up with you in his lap still. “We don’t have to go anywhere. We can spend the whole day together.”

“No,” you said firmly. You were going out with your friends and that was final. “Send Ray or someone to watch over me. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Please?” he asked, thrusting his hips up. “I’ll make it worth your while if you skip.”

Natasha’s words crossed your mind, reminding you that you had power. But a sinking feeling washed over you because that power had to come from your body, right? You shouldn’t be expected to give him sex, but you could give him something to hold him over. Pushing the dread away, you could hate yourself later for it. “You can spend time with me when I get back,” you offered, grinding your hips against his. “I’ll be all yours.”

The sickening feeling you expected when he moaned didn’t come. “You promise?” he murmured.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, grinding your hips again. “You can even drop me off at Addison’s, and I’ll let you know when I get back to my place. I promise.”

“Okay, Kotyonok,” he groaned, his hands grabbing your waist. Your triumph didn’t last long. “Keep doing that and I’ll pay for all the bottles of wine you want, too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Let me touch you. Please, just let me make you feel good,” he half begged, half demanding between kissing you again. He truly hungered for you. “I'll make you feel amazing if you just let me touch you.”

You took a deep, shaky breath. How far would he take it if he touched you? No, you had to stay in control. “You are touching me.”

“Let me take you to bed. I'll eat your pussy so good you'll cry.”

You tensed and tried to push yourself up, but he grabbed you and situated you over one of his massive thighs. He had a firm hold on you and it made your heart pound. “I don't want you to be scared. I'll take such good care of you.”

“I just… I’m not…” If he took you to bed, there’d be no turning back, and you had to maintain some control.

“You’re not ready for that,” he stated, his eyes still dark. Shaking your head, it worried you how he’d take it. But he suddenly started moving you over his thigh, hard and slow. “Okay, Kotyonok. I won't put my tongue or fingers in you just yet, but I still want to make you feel good.”

You made a small sound, trying to get your body to relax. You had never ridden anyone’s thigh before and you hadn’t pictured it like this. But the blissful look on his face, he looked like he was in heaven.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you? Especially like this,” he praised.

“I…” you whimpered. “I’m not-”

“Yes, you are,” he growled, tightening his grip. “And you deserve to feel good. My girl deserves whatever she wants.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders when he flexed his thigh, sending an unexpected shock through your entire body. “Oh, my God,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

“That felt good, right?” he asked, watching you with lidded eyes. “You want me to keep going? Make you come all over my pants?”

You whimpered when he held you still, unsure it was his dirty talk or the slight edging that had you trembling. “Bucky…”

“Tell me, Kotyonok,” he ordered, licking his lips and relaxing back into the blankets and pillows. “Tell me you want me to keep going and I will.”

You looked deep into his eyes. There was so much fire in them and it was burning for you. Your breath caught as he flexed his thigh again and you found yourself nodding. “Please, Bucky. Keep going.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I said,” he whispered, sliding his tongue along your lips. “Tell me.”

You swallowed hard, your core throbbing. “I want you to keep going,” you breathed.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, rocking you over his thigh again and sitting up, desperately pressing his lips to your neck. “You'll never have to beg for anything you want. Just ask or tell me and it's yours.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as your nails dug into his shoulders, feeling his thigh getting wetter beneath you. “Please…” you whispered, unsure of what exactly you were asking for. Mercy? To be put out of your misery? You could ask for anything except for freedom.

“Still begging when you don't have to.” He chuckled affectionately. “You’re so sweet.”

The pleasure building inside you was bittersweet. Sexual acts were, in your eyes, something to bring you closer together. What would he want next? What would you want next?

“Fucking yourself on my thigh. Wait ‘til you fuck yourself on my cock,” he gruffly spoke, your walls clenching around nothing when he lightly nipped over your pulse. “Just let go if you want. Make a mess for me.”

You were breathless from how close you were. “Do… that again,” you said, unable to let yourself feel embarrassed in the moment.

Bucky nipped your neck again and smiled when you moaned. “Fuck, that’s my beautiful girl. Doing so good for me, telling me what you want,” he said gruffly, dragging you faster along his thigh. “Now I want you to come for me.”

Your mouth fell open when he rocked you faster and bit down once more, hard enough that something inside you snapped. It didn’t just snap, you shattered. You saw stars. You couldn't stop it.

“There you go. Coming just for me,” he smiled, burying his face in your neck. “Fuck, you got my thigh all wet. Just ride it out. Good girl.”

Your face burned and you wanted to hide once you slowed down, but he wouldn’t let you when he lifted his head. He looked so happy, like a cat who got the cream. Your release dripped from your pussy and soaked your pajamas and his pants. You let him get you off.

And breathing hard, you surprised both of you by leaning in and kissing him.

He let out a deep moan, kissing you back with everything he had as he held you closer. You were still shaking from your orgasm, and you could blame that for the reason why you kissed him. And he behaved, not letting his hands wander as his tongue moved with yours.

He kept his mouth close to yours when you pulled back. The orgasm surprisingly helped you relax, but it worried you, too. Had you pushed too far with what you just did? Would he want more? You couldn’t let him in, and you weren’t ready to let yourself fall for him after everything. Not yet.

“Um, thanks,” you said, unsure of what to say to break the tension.

“Thank you,” he smiled.

His smile confused you. “But… you didn’t…” you trailed off. He was hard in his pants, and you hadn’t gotten him off. You selfishly got yourself off on his thigh with his encouragement.

“That doesn't matter,” he assured you, kissing the tip of your nose. “You trusted me enough to make you feel good.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “But that’s… No. I…” You just wanted a bit of time with your friends, it wasn’t about trust. Was it? How could you trust this man?

He tucked your head under his chin and wrapped one of the blankets around you. “I know you're still a bit scared and you don’t want to trust me, and that’s okay. It’s scary to let someone like me in after everything.”

You shut your eyes to hold back tears. He had scared you from the moment you met, but you wouldn’t say you were completely scared of him right now. Not really. You didn’t know how you felt.

That was what scared you.

“Will someone keep an eye on my place while I’m out tomorrow?” you asked curiously, hoping the question didn't sound weird. You just didn't want Clark snooping around, and you didn't want Bucky worked up if you mentioned him.

“I have safety measures in place,” he replied. “Do you feel safe here?” he asked above a whisper.

“Yes,” you replied. You felt safe and in danger all at once. It was a strange feeling.

“Good,” he whispered. “Hey. Maybe you can spend the night tomorrow, too? We’ll do a movie night.”

“Maybe,” you whispered, your heart finally starting to slow to a steady rate. “And pizza.”

“Pizza and a movie? It’s a date,” he smiled. “We can talk about redecorating the place, too. Make it a real home for us.”

“A real home,” you whispered, knowing full well you were home for Bucky.

He rubbed your back and you noticed how relaxed he was. He was content to just hold you. Like an actual couple. Exactly what he wanted.

And if he noticed a tear streaming down your cheek when you eventually fell asleep in his arms, he thoughtfully kept that to himself.

So, that happened. It could've been... worse? He's wearing his girl down, isn't he? How are things going to be in the morning? Will he leave you be when you're with your friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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