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vunblr · 1 month ago

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Threads and Timber

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Bucky grapples with a questionable Christmas gift.

Word Count: 10k

notes: Roots and Branches AU

The kitchen was filled with the comforting aroma of a slow-cooked stew, steam curling from the pot as she gave it a final stir. It had been days since she’d seen him properly, their interactions reduced to brief, tired phone calls that left her wanting more. Winter was a quiet season for lumberjacks, but rather than resting, Bucky had been keeping busy at Sam’s, taking on carpentry work to fill the downtime.

That morning, his voice had been a low rasp over the phone, thick with an exhaustion that tugged at her heart. She’d tried to coax him into a real conversation, hoping to hear more than his clipped responses, but the demands of the mayor’s big project had stolen him away yet again.

Sighing, she ladled the rich, hearty stew into a tupperware, tucking in a chunk of freshly baked bread alongside it in a bag. Bucky deserved more than just quick meals scarfed down between tasks. He deserved to pause, breathe, and care for himself. If he couldn’t come to her, she’d go to him.

Grabbing her coat and scarf, she bundled up against the crisp December air and headed out. The drive to Sam’s workshop was quick, the sight of the modest building came into view as she rounded a bend. Even from a distance, she could hear the faint buzz of saws and the rhythmic tap of hammers.

Inside, the workshop was a flurry of activity. Sawdust floated like golden confetti in the beams of light streaming through the high windows and half-finished pieces of what looked like a massive table were scattered across the floor. Sam was barking orders from a workbench, his voice carrying over the chaos.

Her eyes found Bucky instantly. He was crouched low, a pencil tucked behind his ear, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms dusted with sawdust. His hair was tied back, but a few strands had escaped, brushing against his face as he measured and marked a plank with laser-sharp focus.

“Y/n!” Sam’s voice jolted her from her reverie. He grinned, straightening and brushing his hands on his jeans. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Someone’s breaking the ‘no distractions’ rule.”

Bucky’s head snapped up at her name, and his eyes softened the moment they landed on her. He stood, wiping his hands on a rag as he approached in an unhurried but purposeful manner.

“What’re you doin’ here?” His voice was gruff, but the hint of a smile tugging at his lips betrayed his surprise.

“You sound so thrilled to see me,” she teased, holding up the bag. “I brought you lunch. Thought you could use something that didn’t come out of a vending machine.”

Sam let out a low whistle, winking at her. “That’s some first-class treatment, Barnes. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”

Bucky’s ears turned pink as he shot Sam a warning look before turning his attention back to her. “You know is not necessary to do this,” he muttered, though his eyes lingered on the bag with unmistakable appreciation.

“I wanted to.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice as she met his gaze. “You’ve been working so hard, Buck. Let me pamper you, even just for a little while.”

He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he nodded. “Thanks, sweetheart” he murmured with a softer tone. He reached out, brushing a gloved thumb across her cheek in a brief but tender gesture.

She smiled, handing him the bag. “Go ahead and eat before it gets cold. I’ll keep Sam company while you take a break.”

Bucky hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly. “Stay,” he said simply, the word weighted with longing.

Her chest tightened, and she nodded. “Okay.”

He led her to a quieter corner of the workshop, where he perched on a workbench and pulled out the container. She watched as he took his first bite, his eyes fluttering shut briefly as the flavors hit him.

“This is good,” he said after a moment, going for the bread.

She grinned. “Good enough to make up for barging in on your workday?”

He glanced at her, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that faint, heart-stopping smile of his. “Better than good.”

As the hum of the workshop continued around them, she leaned against the bench, content to simply be there, sharing a quiet moment with the man she loved.

Bucky set the tupper down with a soft noise, brushing a thumb across his lips to catch any lingering traces of the stew. “Thanks, darling,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the kind of warmth that made her heart squeeze.

“Always,” she replied, reaching out to straighten the collar of his flannel shirt. “You’ve got this, Buck. Just don’t forget to eat something other than coffee and frustration, okay?”

His lips twitched into that faint smile again, and he gave a small nod, his fingers brushing briefly over hers before she pulled away.

She was just gathering her things to leave when Sam appeared, wiping his hands on a rag as he strolled over, his expression equal parts curiosity and amusement.

“Before you go,” he started, leaning casually against the nearest workbench, “I wanted to mention something. I’m hosting a little Christmas Eve get-together at my place. Just the crew and a few friends, nothing fancy. If you don’t already have plans, you’re more than welcome. Both of you.”

She paused, caught slightly off-guard but pleased by the offer since it was her first Christmas in the town. Her gaze flicked to Bucky, whose expression had shifted into something more guarded. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and he rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes.

“We’ll see,” he muttered, with an unmistakable discomfort in his tone.

Sam raised an eyebrow, smirking as he straightened. “That’s Buck-speak for ‘I’d rather wrestle a grizzly than go to a there.’ But hey, maybe you can change his mind.”

Her lips twitched into a small, knowing smile as she adjusted the strap of her bag. “We’ll think about it,” she said smoothly, subtly offering reassurance with a light touch to Bucky’s arm.

Sam chuckled, tossing the rag onto the bench. “I’ll take that as a yes. You know where I live if you decide to come.”

“Thanks, Sam,” she said warmly, before turning to Bucky. “I’ll leave you to it. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

His eyes lingered on her for a moment, something unspoken passing between them before he gave a slight nod.

As she headed for the door, Sam’s voice followed her, teasing but good-natured. “Don’t let him talk you out of it, we need some holiday spirit around here.”

She glanced back with a grin. “I’ll do my best.”

Outside, the crisp air nipped at her cheeks as she climbed into her car, stealing one last look at the workshop. Her heart ached a little at the sight of Bucky already back at work, his shoulders squared and focus returning to the task at hand.

The evening stretched as she leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples after slogging through another chapter of the “gunslinger x damsel” novel. The sheriff’s daughter had just been kidnapped -again- and the hero’s smoldering intensity was only matched by his unrealistic ability to outshoot twenty bandits in the middle of a dust storm.

With a sigh, she saved her notes, muttering to herself, “Why is it always the sheriff’s daughter? Does anyone else in the town ever fall in love?”

Pushing her laptop aside, she grabbed her coffee and opened a shopping site on her phone. The homepage cheerfully proclaimed Winter Deals for the Holidays! in bold, glittering letters, and she clicked through out of idle curiosity. She scrolled past cozy knit blankets, sparkly ornaments, and slippers shaped like reindeer hooves, when something caught her eye.

It was hideous.

A sweater -no, the sweater- covered in garish Christmas patterns, complete with snowmen, reindeer, and lights embedded in a gaudy green tree. It was oversized, loud, and utterly atrocious.

She bit her lip, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as she imagined Bucky in it. Her grumpy, reserved boyfriend, with his broad shoulders and no-nonsense attitude, dressed in something so absurdly festive. The mental image was enough to make her laugh, fogging the rim of her mug with her breath

It was their first Christmas together as a couple, and while she didn’t expect him to suddenly transform into the embodiment of holiday cheer, the thought of coaxing him into this sweater filled her with a mischievous kind of joy.

Her finger hovered over the “Add to Cart” button as she mulled it over. He’d resist, of course. He’d grumble, roll his eyes, maybe even cross his arms and give her that look that usually meant “not a chance.”

But then she thought about his small, reluctant smiles, the way his gruff exterior softened in private moments, and the quiet way he always indulged her whims, even the silly ones.

Tap.

She placed the order, her heart skipping with excitement as she leaned back against the cushions. Whatever resistance he threw her way, she’d make it work. After all, it wasn’t really about the sweater. It was about sharing this first Christmas, and maybe, just maybe, helping Bucky feel like he belonged in this season of warmth and celebration.

As the confirmation email popped up on her screen, she whispered to herself, “This is going to be so good.”

The late afternoon sun dipped low in the sky, casting golden light over the frosted edges of the forest as she pulled into the clearing. Bucky’s cabin stood nestled against the trees, smoke curling lazily from the chimney, but her attention was immediately drawn to him.

Unsurprisingly, he was outside, splitting firewood in a rhythm that spoke of muscle memory and focus. Each swing of the axe cut clean through the logs, the sharp crack echoing in the stillness. Steam left his mouth in warm puffs with every breath, but he didn’t seem bothered by the cold. He wasn’t wearing a jacket -of course not- with the exertion keeping him warm. His fitted thermal shirt clung to him, the fabric pressed across his shoulders and chest, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms flexing with every motion.

She bit her lip, taking a moment to appreciate the sight before stepping out of the car, a festively wrapped box tucked under her arm. The crunch of her boots on the snow caught his attention. He paused mid-swing, lowering the axe and planting it firmly in a stump before turning toward her.

His breath fogged the air as he walked over, wiping his hands on his jeans, with a hint of a smile softening his sharp features. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, his voice low and warm as his arms circled her waist.

“Hey,” she murmured, rising on her toes to press a kiss to his lips.

He kissed her back, slow and sure. When they broke apart, his brow quirked, his gaze flicking to the box in her hands. “What’s that?” his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity.

“I brought you a present,” she announced, holding it up.

His brow arched higher, though a faint flush crept up his neck. “You didn’t have to bother.”

She grinned, nudging him playfully. “It’s almost Christmas, Buck. Humor me.”

With a resigned huff, he tilted his head toward the cabin. “Come on, then.”

Inside, the warmth from the wood stove wrapped around her as they stepped in. “Alright,” he said, leaning back against the counter as he folded his arms. “Let’s see it.”

She placed the box on the table, her grin widening as she gestured for him to open it. “Go on”.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he tugged at the ribbon and peeled back the wrapping paper. The moment his eyes landed on the sweater, his expression shifted into a deadpan stare.

“No.”

She bit back a laugh, clasping her hands behind her back as she rocked on her heels. “Oh, come on! You haven’t even tried it on yet.”

His gaze flicked from her to the offending garment, tightening his jaw. “Not happening.”

“Buckyyy,” she begged, stepping closer. “You’ll look so good in it at Sam’s party-“

“About that,” he interjected, straightening and crossing his arms over his chest.

She paused, tilting her head. “What about it?”

His lips pressed into a line as he glanced toward the window, avoiding her gaze. “We didn’t really talk about going,” he said carefully. “I’m not exactly... eager to be around that many people. You know how I am with crowds.”

Her shoulders softened as she closed the distance between them, and her hands rested lightly on his folded arms. “Honey, I get it. I know it’s not your favorite thing, and you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But it’s Sam’s party, and I think he’d really appreciate seeing you there, even just for a little while.”

He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flicking to hers. “I just... I don’t know.”

She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over the faint stubble there as she smiled softly. “You’ll have me with you the whole time. And it’s not some big, formal thing, just a cozy night with friends. We don’t have to stay long, I promise.”

His eyes lingered on hers, weighing her words. Finally, he sighed. “Alright. I’ll go. But only because of you are asking.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned in to kiss him gently. “Thank you. You’ll see, it’ll be fun.”

He huffed, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Fun, huh?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a playful glint in her eye. She stepped back, gesturing to the sweater still sitting on the table. “And everyone will love your sweater.”

His brow furrowed, the faint flicker of warmth disappearing into another deadpan stare. “Not a chance.” he muttered.

“Just try it on!” she pleaded, laughing.

“Not. Happening.” he repeated, but his tone was less certain now as she stepped closer.

Undeterred, she smirked, leaning in, and placing her hands on his chest. “You’ll be the star of the evening.”

“That makes it worse,” he grumbled, but the faintest hint of a blush crept up his cheeks as her hands slid to his shoulders.

“Please?” she whispered, her voice soft and teasing as she kissed his jaw.

He let out a low groan, his resolve clearly wavering, but he held his ground. “No.”

She leaned back, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Fine. Let’s try a different tactic.”

Before he could react, she grabbed his shirt and guided him backward, pinning him gently against the edge of the table. His eyes widened briefly before narrowing, his hands settling on her hips instinctively.

“Sweetheart,” he warned, though his voice had lost its edge.

She leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she whispered, with a low and sultry tone, “If you wear it for me, I’ll make it worth your while.”

The breath he exhaled was almost a growl, his hands tightening on her hips as his head dipped forward, his forehead brushing hers. “That’s not fair,” he muttered.

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a smug smile. “Life’s not fair, Jamie.”

His eyes closed briefly, and when they opened, they were filled with resigned heat. “Fine,” he grumbled, the word almost a sigh. “But you owe me.”

Her laugh was soft and triumphant as she kissed him again, lingering this time. “Deal.”

The sound of laughter and muffled music reached Bucky even before he opened the door. Sam’s house was alive with chatter, bursts of laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses. He paused on the doorstep, squaring his shoulders, his hand hesitating on the doorknob. He glanced down at the sweater -the ridiculous, awful sweater- and sighed deeply before stepping inside.

Warmth enveloped him immediately, the room packed with neighbors, Sam’s crew, and a few familiar faces from around town. He quickly scanned the crowd, his jaw tightening as he spotted her near the fireplace, chatting animatedly with one of Sam’s friends. He didn’t make it more than a step before Sam’s booming voice cut through the din.

“Barnes!” Sam’s grin could have lit up the entire house as he pushed through the crowd, his laughter already bubbling up. His gaze landed on the sweater, and that was all it took.

“Oh, man,” Sam crowed, slapping his knee in exaggerated delight. “I knew you were coming, but I wasn’t ready for this. That thing’s a masterpiece!”

The room erupted into laughter and good-natured teasing, a few people craning their necks to catch a glimpse of Bucky’s “holiday spirit.” Bucky’s ears burned as he shoved his hands into his pockets, his expression a mix of resignation and discomfort.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his voice low as his eyes darted around. “Get it outta your system, Sam.”

Sam wasn’t about to let it go that easily. “You’ve got to let me get a picture of this. No one’s gonna believe me otherwise.”

Bucky opened his mouth -likely to tell him exactly where he could shove his camera- when she turned at the sound of Sam’s laughter. Her gaze found him instantly, and her face lit up as she set down her drink and moved toward him.

“Buck,” she called softly, her voice cutting through the teasing like a lifeline.

She reached him quickly, her eyes sparkling with amusement as they flicked over the sweater. “Look at you,” she teased, as she placed her hands lightly on his chest as if they were the only two people in the room. “You look so sexy in this.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes softened as he tilted his head toward her. “You’re the only one who thinks that, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care, I think you’re perfect,” she murmured, leaning closer as her hands slid up to his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you a drink. You’ve earned it.”

He followed her toward the kitchen, his hand finding the small of her back as they moved through the crowd. The weight of people’s stares and Sam’s lingering laughter faded as she pressed a glass of cider into his hand.

“See?” she teased as they stood near the fireplace. “Not so bad.”

He took a sip of the cider, his brow raising slightly. “We’re still talkin’ about this sweater, or somethin’ else?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Both.”

Their conversation eased into a steady rhythm, her warmth drawing him out of his usual reserve. Then they talked with a few neighbors, her doing most of the chatting while Bucky offered the occasional quiet comment or nod. His hand never left her, though, whether resting lightly on her back or brushing her arm as he reached for his drink.

At one point, she leaned close, her voice dropping as she murmured near his ear. “You’re doing great.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Doin’ this for you, darling. Not Sam’s damn party.” The faint blush dusting his cheeks made her heart skip a beat.

She smiled and brushed her fingers lightly over his arm. “I know. And I appreciate it. You’re amazing.”

A faint smile flickered across his lips before he exhaled a quiet sigh. His hand at her back gave a gentle squeeze, and his gaze softened as he studied her for a moment longer.

“Be right back,” he murmured, leaning in to press a brief kiss to her temple.

She watched him slip away, his broad frame disappearing toward the hallway toward the bathroom, and couldn’t help the small smile that lingered on her face. Cradling her glass of cider, she let herself enjoy the warmth of the moment, the chatter, the laughter, the glow of the lights.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice, low and smooth, cutting through the warmth of her thoughts.

She turned to find John Walker standing nearby, a charming smile playing on his lips, carrying himself with the kind of casual confidence that bordered on calculated. His eyes flicked to hers, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“John,” she greeted politely, offering a small smile.

“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” he said, stepping just slightly closer. “You’re usually busy keeping Barnes out of trouble, right?”

She chuckled lightly, the comment earning a quick quirk of her brow. “He doesn’t need much keeping. He’s more than capable.”

“Sure,” John replied, though the grin tugging at his lips tightened just a fraction. His gaze flicked over her briefly. “But I bet it keeps you busy. Still, I gotta say, you brighten up the place tonight. Hard not to notice.”

She smiled politely, shifting her weight slightly. “It’s a lovely party,” she said, deflecting without missing a beat. “Sam always knows how to bring people together.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, though his focus remained squarely on her. “But some people stand out, you know? Like you. I mean, you’ve got this effortless way about you… easy to see why Barnes sticks so close.”

The compliment caught her off guard, and she laughed, more out of politeness than anything else. “Well, thank you, John. That’s kind of you to say.”

“Just honest,” he said smoothly. “Not every day someone like you walks into a room-”

Before she could respond, a familiar warmth settled at her side. Bucky’s arm slid firmly around her waist, his grip possessive but subtle. His blue eyes locked on Walker, the barest flicker of annoyance crossing his expression as he took in the exchange. His tone, low and even, carried a subtle edge.

“Walker,” he said simply, nodding in acknowledgment.

John straightened slightly, his charming smile faltering just enough to be noticeable before returning with a hint of stiffness. “Barnes,” he replied, his tone measured. “Didn’t realize you’d made it tonight.”

“Obviously,” Bucky said flatly, his arm tightening just a bit around her waist.

“Nice sweater.” The blonde complimented, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Bucky pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, his jaw tightening as he prepared to fire back.

But before he could get a word out, she interjected smoothly “I know, right? I picked it myself.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched slightly. Meanwhile, John’s grin faltered, his eyes flicking between them as he tried to recover.

“Well,” he added after a beat, with forced cheer. “It’s definitely... festive.”

“Sure is,” Bucky responded dryly, his gaze never leaving John as his fingers flexed subtly against her waist.

The tension lingered for a moment before John cleared his throat, offering a polite nod. “Guess I’ll grab another drink. Nice seeing you.”

“Likewise,” she replied easily, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath Bucky’s stoic exterior as she turned to him with a soft smile.

Bucky waited until John had stepped away before letting out a quiet exhale, relaxing his grip just a little.

She tilted her head, studying him curiously. “You okay?” she asked, brushing her fingers over his arm.

“Fine,” he muttered, though his gaze lingered in the direction John had gone. His voice softened as his hand slid to the small of her back, “Just didn’t like the way he was lookin’ at you.”

Her brows lifted slightly. “Bucky,” she murmured, leaning closer to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips brushing the side of her head. “I know.”

For the rest of the evening, they remained close, sharing conversations with the guests and exchanging subtle touches. His thumb would graze her wrist when she reached for her glass, or her hand would linger on his arm during a laugh. Eventually, they found themselves tucked into a quieter corner of the room, the chatter fading into the background. She tugged playfully at his sweater, her fingers curling into the coarsed knit as she coaxed him to lean down. “Come here,” she murmured, her voice teasing as she rose on her toes.

His eyes flicked down to her lips, his brows furrowing slightly as if to ask, Here?

“Yes, here,” she whispered, grinning as she tugged again.

With a low sigh that could have passed for reluctance -if not for the way his hand tightened at her back- he leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss.

The room erupted in whistles and cheers, Sam’s voice rising above the noise. “Look at you, Mr. Christmas! Ugly sweater and public display of affection? Who even are you right now?”

Bucky pulled back just enough to shoot Sam an unimpressed look. “You done?”

Sam grinned, raising his glass in triumph. “Never.”

As the laughter subsided, Bucky turned back to her, his hand brushing against her cheek as he leaned close. “Later, darling,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with promise. “I’m gonna make you pay for this sweater.”

Her cheeks warmed as she tilted her head to look up at him. “Actually...” she murmured with a hint of mischief. “I was planning to atone for it sooner than you think.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed, his gaze searching hers. “What-”

Before he could finish, she tipped her glass just enough for a splash of cider to land squarely on his pants, the liquid soaking into the dark denim with unmistakable precision.

“Oh dear,” she gasped, her voice laced with exaggerated concern as she placed a hand on his chest. “I’m so sorry!”

Bucky stiffened slightly, his jaw tightening as he looked down at the damp spot, then back at her. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and wary, “what are you-”

“Let me fix it!” she interrupted, grabbing his hand before he could protest. She tugged him gently but insistently toward the hallway, her fingers laced with his as she maneuvered them through the crowd.

He let her lead him, his long strides matching her quick steps. He faintly intuited where this might be heading, but the thought didn’t fully land until they reached the bathroom door.

She pulled him inside with one smooth motion, shutting the door behind them with a soft click. The lock turned with a quiet finality that seemed to echo in the tiny space.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his jaw ticking as he glanced between her and the door. “You really spilled cider on me just to get me in here?”

Her lips curved into a smile that was anything but innocent as she stepped closer, her fingers brushing the edge of the ridiculous sweater he’d begrudgingly worn for her. “You look so handsome in this, Buck,” she murmured, her voice low and sweet as her hands slid to his belt. “How could I resist?”

His body reacted before his mind fully caught up. His breath hitched as her fingers worked at the buckle, her deliberate slowness driving him to the edge of reason.

“Darling...” he warned, though his voice had lost its edge.

“Shh,” she whispered, rising on her toes to press a soft kiss to his jaw. Her voice was a sultry murmur, “I told you I’d make it worth it.” She added, warm breath fanning against his skin.

Her hands moved with deliberate intent, sliding down to his waistband. Bucky’s breath hitched as the sound of his zipper filled the tiny bathroom, her fingers brushing against his already interested cock. She pressed her palm against him through his boxers, and he hissed, his head tilting back as he tried to maintain his composure.

“Sweetheart,” he rasped again, his voice low and strained. “We’re at a damn Christmas party... what if someone-”

She silenced him with a quick peck, her lips curling into a playful smile. “We’re cleaning a vicious stain,” she corrected, her tone teasing but unwavering.

“You don’t have to…” he muttered, while his hands hesitated on her waist.

She knew what he meant, knew the unspoken vacillation behind the words. In all their time together, he had always shied away from this particular kind of intimacy. He’d muttered something once about it feeling degrading for her, some outdated notion she’d tried to challenge more than once. But tonight, she wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t,” she agreed softly, her voice firm as her fingers stroked over the growing hardness beneath the fabric. She leaned in, her breath hot against his pulse point, making his resolve fray with every passing second. “But I want to. And you know…” she murmured, punctuating her words with a kiss just below his ear, “that eventually, you always give up and agree to what I ask of you.”

His groan was low and guttural, and his hands tightened on her hips. “You’re somethin’ else.” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and surrender.

Her lips brushed against his neck, her teeth grazing his sensitive skin as she whispered, “I know.”

He sucked in a sharp breath as her fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his underwear, stroking his length with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left him clinging to the last shreds of his control.

“Have it your way,” he muttered, as his head fell back against the wall.

Her triumphant smile was quick, her fingers giving him one last teasing caress before she sank gracefully to her knees.

“Good,” she said softly, her hands sliding up his thighs as she looked up at him, her gaze locking with his. ”Now, let me thank you for being so brave, coming to the party, wearing the sweater... indulging me.” Her hands moved to the waistband of his boxers, and with deliberate care, she eased them down, freeing his aching cock. The cool air of the bathroom hit his heated skin, and he hissed softly, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

“Jesus, darling,” he muttered, his blush creeping past his collar, tinting his neck and ears. He was already hard, the veins along his length standing out as his body betrayed his restraint.

She smiled, her lips curving with just a hint of mischief as she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking slowly to let him adjust to the intimacy. “You’re so beautiful, Buck,” she murmured, her thumb brushing along the tip, spreading the bead of precum glistening there.

He cursed under his breath, his head falling back again against the wall with a low thud. “You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, his voice rough and strained.

“No,” she whispered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the base of his cock, her lips warm against his skin. “I’m going to make you feel good.” She started slow, her tongue tracing along the underside of his length, one hand still pressed at his thigh, savoring the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch.

His hand came to her shoulder, not to guide her but to steady himself as his breaths turned ragged. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes dropped to her, and the sight of her there, so confident and focused on him, sent heat pooling low in his belly.

She took him deeper, her lips stretching around him as she sank down, her tongue swirling with each movement. His hips jerked instinctively, and he muttered a soft apology, his blush deepening on his cheeks.

“Relax,” she soothed, pulling back slightly to run her tongue along his tip before taking him in again. Her hands slid along his thighs, her touch grounding and gentle as she worked him with a rhythm that had him trembling.

“Shit,” he rasped, his voice breaking as his head tilted back again. His fingers flexed against her shoulder, his free hand gripping the counter behind him as if he were afraid he might lose control entirely.

As the heat coiled tighter in his core, he exhaled sharply, his voice thick with need. “Open your blouse.”

She paused, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. She held his gaze for a moment, then her hands moved to the buttons of her blouse, slowly undoing them one by one. She shrugged it off her shoulders, revealing the soft curves of her bare skin beneath.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as his eyes roamed over her.

She smiled again, her fingers brushing lightly over his thighs before she leaned forward, taking him back into her mouth. Her movements were more purposeful now, her tongue pressing in just the right spots, drawing out a chorus of curses and low, desperate groans from him.

He could feel himself nearing the edge, the pleasure building so quickly it left him dizzy. “Darlin’,” he choked out, pulling back slightly with a groan.

His hand slid to himself, his grip firm as he stroked quickly, the tension snapping with a guttural moan. Warm ropes of his release spilled over her breasts, painting her skin as he worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm. When he finally stilled, his eyes met hers, and he let out a shaky laugh, the blush still high on his cheeks. “Gonna need more than a minute to recover from that,” he muttered, his voice thick but laced with awe.

Her lips curled into a sly smile, her chest still rising and falling as she caught her breath. “Oh, we have time. Cider can be very tricky to clean.”

That earned her a soft, breathless chuckle. “Speaking of which,” he said, straightening as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief -because, of course he had one- and wet it under the stream of warm water from the sink. Turning back to her, he knelt slightly and gently dabbed at her skin. His movements were slow and deliberate, his touch reverent as he cleaned her chest.

“I told you that you didn’t have to do that,” he murmured, his voice low and full of warmth, his eyes focused on her as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever seen. “But damn if I don’t appreciate it.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, but she didn’t shy away from his gaze, watching him as his fingers brushed against her with quiet care.

“You’re unbelievable,” he added softly, shaking his head as he continued. “Always finding ways to take care of me... and knock me on my ass in the process.”

She laughed softly, and her hand rested on his wrist, stilling his movements for a moment. “I’ll always take care of you, Buck. That’s what we do.”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and for a moment, the teasing energy between them softened into something deeper, more intimate. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice a little rough as he cupped her cheek with his free hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her skin. “That’s what we do.”

He finished cleaning her with a few more light touches, his gaze lingering before he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. Standing, he folded the handkerchief and set it aside, offering her his hand to help her up.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s get back out there before Sam decides to come lookin’ for us.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile, buttoning her blouse again as they prepared to slip back into the party.

The hum of conversations and laughter swallowed them up as if they’d never been gone. Bucky’s hand rested at her back, his touch was light but reassuring as they maneuvered through the room together. They stopped to chat with a few neighbors and some of Sam’s crew, the warmth of the gathering lulling Bucky into an unusual state of ease. She noticed how he leaned into the conversation more, even throwing in the occasional dry comment that earned a laugh or two.

At one point, Sam passed by with another drink in hand, his gaze flicking to Bucky with an exaggerated look of appraisal. “Barnes, you’re still rockin’ that sweater. I think it’s startin’ to grow on me.”

Bucky shot him an unimpressed look, though the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “Enjoy the view while it lasts, Wilson. This thing’s gettin’ torched tomorrow.”

“Not if I get a picture first,” Sam shot back, winking at her before moving on to talk with another guest.

She laughed softly, squeezing Bucky’s arm as she leaned close. “Look at you, doing so great.”

“Don’t push it.” he muttered, though the affection in his tone betrayed him.

The night carried on, the crowd beginning to thin as people trickled out into the chilly evening, leaving the room quieter but no less warm as the soft glow of the string lights bathed the space. She was mid-conversation with a neighbor when she felt it, that unmistakable sense of being watched. Her gaze flicked up, and there he was, standing near the door. His eyes were steady and intent, and when their gazes met, he tilted his head ever so slightly, the gesture subtle but clear.

She excused herself with a polite smile, weaving through the remaining guests to meet him. His hand found hers as she approached, the rough warmth of his fingers squeezing lightly before guiding her toward Sam, who stood by the doorway, chatting animatedly with a couple of friends.

“Sam,” she called softly, earning his attention as she offered a warm smile. “Thanks so much for inviting us. We had a wonderful time.”

Sam grinned, his gaze warm before it shifted to Bucky with a mischievous glint. “Always a pleasure,” he said smoothly. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he held up his phone, displaying a photo he’d clearly taken earlier in the evening.

The image showed Bucky mid-conversation, the atrocious sweater at full display as he stood with his arms crossed, looking far too good for such a ridiculous outfit.

“Buck, this one’s goin’ in the memory books,” Sam declared, laughing as he turned the screen for them to see.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, his deadpan stare fixed on the photo “Delete it,” he said flatly.

Sam only laughed harder, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Nope. I already sent it to the work chat.”

She bit her lip to hold back her laugh, slipping her hand into Bucky’s arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Take it as a compliment,” she teased softly.

Bucky sighed, already steering her toward the door. “Let’s go,” he muttered, the faintest flush creeping up his neck as Sam chuckled behind them.

The crisp night air greeted them as they stepped outside, and she instinctively leaned into him for warmth. He slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as their boots crunched against the snowy path.

“You’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” she said lightly, glancing up at him. “We should walk to my place instead of drive.”

Bucky huffed, slipping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close as they started down the snowy path. “Guess we’re walkin’, then,” he said, with a dry tone. “Not like I needed my dignity tonight anyway. This damn sweater saw to that.”

She laughed, leaning into him. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s exactly that bad,” he replied, but there was no real heat in his voice. His fingers splayed across the curve of her back as he spoke, before dipping further to give her ass a deliberate squeeze.

“Bucky!” she gasped, her eyes darting around to check the empty street, her face flushing hot against the winter chill.

“What?” he asked, his tone perfectly deadpan. “You made me wear the damn thing. Seems fair.”

She swatted lightly at his chest, and her voice dropped to a scandalized whisper. “Someone could’ve seen.”

“Let ‘em,” he said simply, his voice was low and gravelly as he leaned closer, brushing his lips against her ear. “I’m the socially awkward one, remember?”

A laugh bubbled out of her, the mix of his teasing and the warmth of his voice making her cheeks burn even hotter. She loved how he could be grumpy and endearing, awkward yet somehow confident, all wrapped in the absurd charm of an awful Christmas sweater.

The warmth of her house wrapped around them as they stepped inside, starkly contrasting the frosty night air they’d left behind. She slipped off her coat and hung it by the door, turning to see Bucky doing the same. His movements were unhurried, his broad frame still slightly stiff from the cold, but his eyes already warming as they met hers.

“Tea?” she asked, smiling softly as she walked toward the kitchen.

He nodded, following her with slow, deliberate steps. “Something warm sounds good.”

She moved easily through the space, setting the kettle on the stove before reaching for the cabinet overhead. Standing on her toes, she stretched to grab the box of apple-flavored tea tucked near the back.

Bucky watched her intently from where he leaned against the counter. The sight of her body arching as she tried to reach the tea was all the invitation he needed.

“Here,” he said, as he moved behind her.

She stilled as his hand reached past hers to grab the box, his chest brushing against her back, his body pressing against hers just a moment longer than necessary. The warmth of his body sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. When he handed her the tea, she turned slightly, offering a quiet, “Thanks.”

His gaze lingered on her, heavy and thoughtful, as his thumb reached out to trace her lower lip. The touch was featherlight. His eyes darkened, his expression unreadable as his thumb lingered there, brushing softly.

Her cheeks flushed as she wondered if he was thinking of what transpired at the party, the intimacy they’d stolen away behind closed doors.

“Buck-” she started, but her words were lost as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft and searching.

She sighed against him, her hands coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the coarsed knit of the sweater. His lips moved gentle at first, coaxing, before the kiss deepened, growing messy and heated as his hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer.

She gasped softly when his tongue brushed hers, trailing her fingers upward to tangle them on his long locks as the kiss grew more fervent. The kettle whistled faintly in the background, but neither of them moved to address it.

When they finally broke apart for air, her lips were swollen, her breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps as she looked up at him. His own breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling as his gaze dropped to her lips again, undecided, as though torn between kissing her once more or letting his hands venture where his mouth hadn’t yet dared.

“Tea can wait,” he murmured, his voice rough with want as his thumb brushed over her lips once more. Then, he kissed her again and in one fluid motion, he lifted her, setting her on the kitchen counter with effortless strength.

She gasped softly, wrapping her legs instinctively around his hips as he positioned himself between them. Her hands trailed up his arms, fingers skimming over the firm muscles of his biceps and shoulders eliciting a low hum deep in his chest.

“You really like this ugly sweater, don’t you?” he asked, breathing warmly against her cheek.

She smirked, tilting her head to nip gently at his jawline, her teeth grazing the faint stubble there. “Not the sweater,” she murmured, her lips brushing his skin as she spoke. “I like the present wrapped inside it.”

It was all it took. The last thread of his control snapped like a frayed rope.

With a low growl, his hands moved to her blouse, and in one swift motion, he tore it open, sending flying buttons scattering across the wooden floor. His hands were on her instantly, rough and insistent, covering her breasts, squeezing and kneading as his lips sought hers again.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice rough and strained, “how patient I’ve been after your little performance at Sam’s? After what you did in the bathroom?”

“I was just trying to make up for the sweater,” she said breathlessly, her lips curving into a teasing smile even as her body arched into his touch.

“Oh, you’re gonna make up for it,” he muttered, his hands sliding to her back to unhook her bra with practiced ease. He pushed it aside, his mouth descending to her collarbone, then lower, his words rumbling against her skin. “Every last bit of it.” His lips found her breasts, his tongue tracing lazy circles around her nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently at first, with more intent later. She gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair as he alternated between soft licks and sharp nips, his teeth grazing her just enough to send sparks through her body.

“Bucky,” she breathed, tilting back her head as she moaned under his ministrations.

He didn’t stop until her skin was wet and tender, her nipples flushed from his attention. Satisfied with his work, he lifted his head, lips glistening as he met her gaze with a wicked smirk.

One hand slipped to the waistband of her pants, tugging at the elastic as his other arm encircled her waist, lifting her effortlessly. With a quick motion, he rid her of the fabric, panties and all, and the cool air against her bare skin made her shiver.

He set her back on the counter, kissing her again, one hand steadying her by the waist while the other reached out. She heard the faint clink of glass and broke the kiss just in time to see him holding a jar of plum jam he’d spotted earlier on the counter.

His smirk turned darker as he unscrewed the lid, his eyes locked intently on hers. “I fancy something sweet with the tea,” he informed in a low tone.

Her cheeks flushed as the realization dawned, moving her hands to stop him. “Bucky-”

But he was faster. His fingers dipped into the jar, scooping up a generous amount of the sticky preserve. Before she could protest again, he smeared it against her wet folds, the cool sensation making her jerk.

“Cold,” she gasped, her body twisting slightly at the sensation.

His hands settled on her thighs, steadying her as he dropped to his knees in front of her, his lips curving into a smug smile. “Not for long,” he murmured. Before she could form another thought, his mouth was on her, the contrast between his warmth and the cool jam sent shockwaves through pussy. His tongue moved deliberately, savoring every inch of her as he spread her thighs wider, pulling her closer to the edge of the counter. His lips latched onto her clit without warning, and his tongue delivered a hard flick against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

She gasped sharply, her body jerking in response, her thighs trying to close instinctively against the overwhelming sensation.

“Uh-uh,” he murmured, his grip tightening as he steadied her, his broad shoulders keeping her legs apart. His voice was low, almost a growl, as he glanced up at her. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, darling.”

Before she could form a response, his tongue resumed its assault, alternating between firm flicks and languid strokes that left her trembling. Her nails dug into the counter’s edge as her head tipped back, with a mix of soft cries and breathless gasps spilling from her lips.

As her pleasure built, he added two fingers, making her body arch, and turned her breathing erratic.

“Perfect holiday dessert,” he murmured against her, his words muffled but dripping with mischief as he picked up the pace lapping the last traces of jam on her heated skin.

She cried out, her hands flying to his hair, clutching it as if it were the only thing anchoring her. “Bucky,” she whimpered, her voice was high and shaky, her body nearly unraveling under the relentless pressure.

Her legs trembled as the heat inside her coiled tighter, his tongue and fingers driving her closer to the edge with every precise movement. She could feel him groaning softly against her as if savoring her reactions just as much as her taste, and it pushed her closer to breaking.

“Bucky… Jamie, I-” she tried, but her words dissolved into a broken cry as her body tipped into release, her thighs quivering around him.

He didn’t stop, working her through every pulse of pleasure until she was trembling and utterly spent. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening, his smirk utterly satisfied.

“Best tea pairing I’ve ever had,” he said amusedly, as he kissed the inside of her thigh and locked his gaze with hers before standing up.

Her body was still trembling as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder, her breaths coming in soft, uneven pants. She clung to him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater as she tried to catch her breath.

And then it hit her.

“The kettle,” she said, her voice a little breathless, a mix of urgency and disbelief. “The water’s probably about to evaporate...”

Bucky hummed in acknowledgment, his lips brushing her temple before he reached out with one arm. Without even looking, he turned off the burner with a quick twist of the knob.

“Handled,” he murmured.

When he turned back to her, his other hand was already moving to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the metal clinking making her stomach flip.

She leaned forward, pressing soft kisses along his neck. Her lips trailed up to his jaw while her hands slid to the hem of his sweater, her fingers curling under the edge as she began to tug it upward.

Before she could get far, his hands shot out, grabbing her wrists in a firm but gentle grip. “The sweater stays on,” he said, his voice commanding but tinged with a teasing edge that made her breath hitch.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, her voice caught between incredulous laughter and disbelief.

“Oh, I’m serious,” he said smirking as he leaned closer, holding her in place by her wrists. “You went through all this trouble to get me in this thing. Now you’re gonna enjoy the full experience.”

Her blush deepened as his hands slowly guided hers back to the counter, pinning them there for a moment as he kissed her. His lips were hot and demanding, leaving no doubt that the sweater wasn’t going anywhere.

Bucky’s hands slowly released her wrists and shifted his focus back to his pants, deftly undoing the buttons and sliding the zipper down. He toed off his boots one by one, the sound of them hitting the floor was muted against the hum of their shared breaths. His pants followed, pooling at his feet as he straightened, towering over her.

Her hands found him instantly, sliding down to grip the firm curve of his buttocks through his boxers, and pulled him closer, tightening her thighs around his hips as her she urged him forward.

His clothed erection pressed against her heat, and she moaned softly into the kiss. Bucky hummed appreciatively, as his hips shifted slightly, grinding into her and catching the unmistakable warmth of her slick staining his boxers and the hem of the sweater.

“Darling” he muttered against her mouth, his voice thick with want. “You’re makin’ a mess of me.” His hands slid up her thighs, parting her legs farther, exposing every inch of her need to his gaze. His thumb pressed gently through the wetness, gathering it before bringing it to his lips. He sucked on it intently, as he let out a low, satisfied hum. “Better than the jam,” he said, his smirk as wicked as the flush climbed up her cheeks.

She barely had time to catch her breath before he hooked his thumbs into his boxers, pushing them down and letting them fall to the floor. His cock sprang free, warm and heavy, the tip already glistening as it brushed against her wet pussy. The sensation made her gasp, her body jerking slightly in response.

“Jesus, Bucky,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

He grinned faintly. “Thought you liked the present inside the sweater,” he rasped, stroking himself once, slow and deliberate, his blue eyes flicking to hers.

He didn’t waste any more time. With one hand gripping her hip and the other guiding himself, he pushed forward, the slow stretch drawing a soft cry from her lips. He groaned and his forehead dropped to her shoulder as he filled her, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her steady.

Her hands flew to his back, her nails lightly digging into the sweater's fabric as she clung to him, her legs wrapping tighter around his hips. The movement urged him deeper, and he began to move, slow and deliberate, each thrust pulling a gasp from her lips as her head tilted back against the cabinet.

The intensity escalated quickly, one of her hands slid from his back to his hair, tangling her fingers in the dark strands as she gave a firm tug.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering for half a second before he picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward with a growing urgency.

He pushed her closer to the edge of the counter, the shift in position driving him deeper. His hands adjusted instinctively, one sliding beneath her leg to lift it from behind her knee, angling her hips just enough to hit a spot that made her cry out.

“Bucky,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she tried to ground herself, her fingers scrambling for the counter’s edge. But it was no use. The force of his thrusts rocked her body, the roughness of his movements leaving her breathless and teetering on the brink.

“Hold on, darling,” he murmured, though there was nothing gentle in his tone now, only raw, unrestrained need.

His other hand left her hip, moving instead to cradle the back of her head. His palm pressed firmly, steadying her against him to keep her from hitting the cabinet as his thrusts became punishing, each one hitting deeper, harder.

Her nails raked down his back, clutching desperately as his cock drove into her, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the kitchen. The angle, the strength behind each thrust, the way his grip held her in place, it was too much, and yet not enough all at once.

And then, something shifted. The coarse fabric of his sweater pressed against her clit with every hard thrust, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure that left her gasping. Her eyes flew open as a new, dizzying layer was added to the spiral of pleasure inside her. “Don’t stop… oh God, don’t stop!”

He growled low in his throat, his grip tightening on her as his movements became sharper. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured roughly, his lips brushing her ear. “Show me how good it feels. Come all over my cock.”

She complied with a loud cry, her nails dragged down his back again, her thighs trembling as she mewled his name, her voice breathless and broken.

He cursed roughly and pressed his forehead against hers as the orgasm hit him. The hot rush of it spilled out between them, mingling with her slick as he pumped into her a few more times, chasing the last shreds of his pleasure.

He held her steady for a moment, the air was thick with the scent of sex and the sound of their uneven breaths. As the haze of his climax began to fade, he pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. A smirk tugged at his lips as he became aware of the mess coating her thighs, the counter, and the sweater's hem.

“Guess is even uglier now,” he murmured, his voice rough and teasing, with a flicker of satisfaction.

She bit her lip, a soft chuckle escaping her as she slid her hands up his neck. Her fingers brush against his stubbled jaw before cradling his cheeks. Her touch was gentle, coaxing him to meet her gaze.

“Maybe,” she whispered, her smile growing as her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth. “But you look sexier.”

A scoff escaped his mouth, quiet and incredulous. The flush that had crept up his neck during their encounter flared again, coloring his cheeks and ears as his gaze darted away. When his eyes returned to hers, they carried a mix of awkwardness and disbelief.

“I think you’re the one who drank plenty at the party,” he mumbled, the boldness of just moments ago slipping away as his usual reserve crept back in.

She smiled, unfazed by his deflection, and leaned in to pepper light kisses across his face. First his temple, then his cheek, and finally the corner of his mouth, her lips lingering with quiet affection.

“Bucky,” she murmured, her hands trailing down to rest on his chest. “You don’t have to downplay it. You’re everything I want.”

He sighed deeply, as if her words had pulled something loose inside him. His hands slid from her waist, brushing her bare thighs as they fell to his sides. “We should... clean this up,” he muttered, his voice thick with a mix of shyness and practical retreat.

Her lips curved into a knowing smile as she pulled back slightly, her gaze holding his. “Alright,” she agreed, sliding her arms around his neck and letting him lift her gently off the counter. Her feet hit the floor, but her hands lingered on his shoulders. “But I’m still going to call you sexy.”

He groaned, the flush creeping back to his ears as he glanced away, shaking his head slightly.

She leaned up to press one more kiss to his jaw before stepping away to grab a towel. “Now, let’s see if your sweater survives this mess.”

“Sadly, I don’t think it will,” he replied dryly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk. “We’ll have to put it down. Mercy killing.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes as she dabbed at the counter with the towel. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.”

“It’s worse,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “Now I’ve got another reason to torch it.”

Her laugh grew louder as she glanced back at him, and her heart skipped at the sight of the teasing glint in his eyes. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“And yet, you made me wear that” he countered, stepping closer to pluck the towel from her hands. “Guess that makes you just as bad. Maybe next year I’ll buy one for you too, so we can share the suffering.”

She froze for a beat, then quirked a brow, a slow grin spreading across her lips. “Oh, look at you, already planning matching sweaters. You’re such a sweetie,” she cooed with mock sweetness as she looped her arms around his neck.

“That wasn’t the point of-” he started, his ears burning red as he stumbled over his defense.

“Uh-uh,” she interrupted, tilting her head with a grin. “You know, I already like the idea.”

He groaned, letting his head fall back slightly. “God help me,” he muttered, shaking his head.

She laughed as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, delighting in his flustered expression. “You’re adorable when you’re cornered.”

“Maybe in a year,” he grumbled, pulling her closer despite his groaning, “you’ll forget this conversation, and I can go back to non-blinding, low profile shirts.”

“Not a chance,” she quipped, rising on her toes to press a kiss to his jaw. “Now, where’s that towel, matching sweater boy? We’ve got a mess to clean up.”

His lips twitched into a reluctant smile, his hands settling on her hips. “You’re lucky you make all that misery worth it.”

She laughed softly, grabbing the towel and bending to wipe at the counter while he watched her, his hands still resting lightly on her hips.

Bucky sighed, shaking his head with a faint smirk as he picked up a stray button from her torn blouse that had fallen to the floor. “We really made a mess this time,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

She glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Oh, I don’t know,” she teased, tossing the towel into the sink. “I think it turned out just fine.”

He chuckled, standing straighter as he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer with an affectionate hum of mock contempt. Her body fit against his perfectly, her head resting on his chest as the coarse fabric of the sweater brushed against her cheek.

Outside, snow began to fall in soft flurries, the flakes swirling lazily in the glow of a nearby streetlamp.

“Merry Christmas, darlin',” he murmured, brushing his lips at the top of her head.

She tilted her head up, brushing her fingers along his jawline, tracing a soft path as she gazed up at him. “Merry Christmas, Bucky,”

Ps: Reader gets a present too, in another fic I'm working on 😉

dividers by: @saradika

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #Lumberjack!Bucky

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difwod · 1 year ago

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Enhancing Fun and Interaction: Amusement Park Floor Interactive Projection

Amusement parks have long been popular destinations for families and thrill-seekers, offering various entertainment options. However, a new is revolutionizing how visitors engage with these parks:Amusement park floor interactive projection. This Immersive projection system creates an engaging and interactive experience for park-goers, providing endless opportunities for fun and entertainment.

The Power of Immersive Projection Systems

Immersive projection systems are at the heart of Amusement park floor interactive projection. These cutting-edge technologies utilize high-quality projectors and motion sensors to create visually stunning and interactive displays on the park floor. By projecting dynamic images and animations, these systems transport visitors into a world of imagination and play.

Fun Interactive Floor Games

One of the key features of Amusement Park Fun interactive floor games is the variety of fun and engaging games it offers. Visitors can participate in various interactive activities like virtual soccer, dancing challenges, or obstacle courses. These games entertain and encourage physical activity and social interaction among park-goers.

Through motion sensors, the Interactive projection system detects the movement of participants, enabling them to interact with the projected elements directly. This real-time feedback fosters a sense of immersion and excitement, making the overall experience unforgettable.

Conclusion

Amusement park floor interactive Projection is revolutionizing how we engage with amusement parks. By combining immersive projection systems with fun and interactive floor games, visitors can enjoy a truly unique and memorable experience. This technology entertains and encourages physical activity and social interaction, promoting a sense of joy and camaraderie among park-goers.

Whether competing in a virtual sports match, dancing to vibrant projections, or navigating an interactive obstacle course, these interactive experiences are bound to leave a lasting impression. As amusement parks continue to evolve, the integration of Amusement Park Floor Interactive Projection will undoubtedly shape the future of entertainment, captivating audiences of all ages. So, the next time you visit an amusement park, watch for this innovative technology and get ready to embark on a truly immersive and interactive adventure.

#Amusement park floor interactive projection

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angelfishe · 18 days ago

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hiiiiii :3

I was wondering if you could do head canons or a one shot about the traveler and paimon visiting the fortress of meropide to wish wriothesley a happy birthday. They decide to quietly enter through the main door to his office to surprise him, but they see wriothesley and reader making out. you don't have to do it if you don't want too!

please and thank you

I hope this manages to please you and if I'm sorry it's kind out of context. Hope you enjoy it

"𝐔𝐇-𝐎𝐇 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓"

<< Genshin man x reader >>

Character : diluc, kaeya, alhaitham, ayato, zhongli, childe, neuvillete, wriostheley, dottore, pantalone, capitano

"Imagine getting in the middle of the act"

Warning may contain NSFW content

⚠️ Minors do not interact please ⚠️

Diluc it's no secret to do staff of the dawn winery about you guys sex life, I mean everyday Adeline has to change the cum stained bed sheet to fresh ones for you guys to dirty it again, I mean you guys are so loud to the point it can be heard in the servants corners thats the reason why the staff have eye bags under their eyes they didn't get enough sleep due to the noise, at some point you guys broke the bed unable to survive diluc strength you guys have to buy a new one and when asks diluc is unable to forge the words to say. During angel share closing kaeya accidently left some important documents on the table and when he went inside he saw you and diluc is doing something busy and his present stop you guys he immediately grab the document leaving an angry diluc yelling at him to leave.

Kaeya the entire mondstat knows you've guys business, I mean when he's bored he asks for your presence under the excuse of an official knight business which everybody knows it's a code for "playtime" in the HQ, Unfortunately there's a new rookie working in the knights of favonius that no one warn them about the calvary captain break time is, and that unfortunately lead towards the rookie opening the door of the captains office and seeing his lover being hit on in the back by the captain, the rookie immediately slamming the door close with blush on their face, and the knights around HQ was like "first time ?"

Alhaitham even tho alhaitham put on a stern face, he's by far one of the most shameless Characters towards location it doesn't matter where it is in the forest, the library, in a tent in the middle of the desert, in a temple there's no limit to where you guys are gonna do it, poor kaveh having one of his projects staying up all night to work on it and hearing the bed creaking on the other room and yelled to keep it down from his room towards you guys. During alhaitham birth day cyno, tighnari and kaveh was planning on holding a surprise party on alhaitham, unfortunately when they burst in the room and they witness alhaitham getting his "birthday present" from you unfortunately you were unable to make eye contact with them for one week for alhaitham he act as if he did not just give them trauma, that's why knock first when entering his room

Ayato this man is SHAMELESS, even tho most of the citizens don't know what's going on in the kamisato estate, the servants fall into victims to his shenanigans. It's no secret ayato is into shibari as well in his and beloved bedroom above the bed there's a hook to you know. Thoma is by far has to deal with his antics having to wipe the stained of the wet soiled sheets or floor. Every time he asks to bring a snack it's always you to bring it because to be honest you are the snack not the tea and cake, and after finishing he would buy you boba for you and him to enjoy. Even if he gets caught out side of his circle he would bribe them or threaten to cut off the person's tounge and ruin their lives if they dare to release information about the yashiro commissioner private life with his beloved. But that was never the case because usually the spectator would be immediately dealt with by the shimatsuban or are too afraid and fled the nation. He needs to keep his reputation and image clean and if someone there is to shame you or his clan they would be dealt immediately.

Zhongli a gentleman on the street, monster on the sheets. Zhongli is a very popular consultant in ancient liyue history and during afternoons he would usually have a nice walk with you but it's not nice with you when you're limping because of how hard he went from last night. In ancient times to modern liyue it's very known for the nation to have earth quakes once a month it's not dangerous but it might scare some tourist visiting liyue but the citizens of the nation has gone to normalize this earthquake they believe it's rex lapis rearranging liyue or shedding. But in truth once a month zhongli would have rut and take you to his private domain to release his stress and that's the reason why the nation once a month have earthquakes.

Childe a manace amongst society or in teyvat when it comes to privacy, he doesn't care if someone walks in on you guys, he's too busy doing you to not to care if he give someone mental scars but he would always lock the doors when you guys are visiting his family he doesn't want to see his little siblings rearranging his lovers organs as well as sound proofing the entire by sound proofing by putting a pillow on your month for you to bite on to make sure not to release any sound. During one dinner meeting Teucer once had a bright idea of asking something towards you guys in front of the family "big brother why does (brother / sister ) ( your name ) calls you daddy" and the dinner table suddenly went quite and childe answer with "were just playing house Teucer" and Teucer innocently went back to his dinner not noticing the awkward atmosphere around the family.

Neuvillete pretty much a gentleman plus very new to these sorta things I would like to say is a switch, during the climax of the act he would cry during it not tears of sadness but tears of happiness when climaxing best feeling in the world for him, and during this time rain would fall on the city of Fontaine the people it's a normal accuracy. The melusine knows too well about you guys when you visit him the melusine prohibited anyone from entering the ludex office due to this important business meeting, he needs it he's very stressed due to paperwork. as well having a private underwater cave for you guys to do it unbontherd by the city or being too loud.

Wriostheley everybody knows not to bother the duke when he's sweetheart is visiting or else mess with your credit coupons being cut a large half or extra pipe duties for the guards. No one is brave enough or respects him to not mess with his sweetheart They call you the ( marquis / marquise ) of meriopede, holding a position lower than duke but still one of the prison administrator. Unfortunately during the day traveler and paimon decided to visit wriostheley during a busy day, the other workers of the prison were too busy dealing with duties to keep them occupied from interrupting him. And it was too late to warn them the next thing you hear both of their screams and them immediately leaving the office with their face fully red and covering their eyes. What they witnessed was the duke discussion of "business" with the ( marquis / marquise ).

Dottore this man doesn't like when people interrupt him and his lover private time, his clones are by far fine walking in as long as it's not the little one of him walking in so that's why they have to say their ID before going in. And when his clones walk in he would immediately release a pissed "hmmph" and continue on even after finishing you have his clones to satisfy even tho he said having intercourse with them is not necessary and it's your choice to have it or not, but sometimes after finishing or when he's busy to entertain you he would assigned the clones to keep you busy or satisfy you I mean they don't mind it they actually enjoy it. But when one of his lab rats or lower ranking was caught betraying the fatui and went to beg for their life and came rushing in and end up witnessing the doctor with his spouse, soon the lower ranking researcher was used as a test subject for his next experiment how unfortunate his fate was originally gonna be a quick towards the head now they have to suffer due to interrupting his time with his beloved.

Pantalone this man is stressed out due to the amounts of paper work and how much the fatui cost to operate, everyday Is a new bill about something. Dottore needing new funds, childe spending habits, materials, paychecks, taxes and other stuff and that's why he loves having you in his office and when he's overstressed and needs stress relief he would kindly ask to sit on his lap or to kneel down between his legs. He also favors toys and fancy lingerie but when there's a business meeting he tends to leave those things out in public. One time when one of his assistants went inside the office to grab a document he requested in his table is a vibrator and a lacy black underwear and some stained left on the floor the assistant quickly left the office with his paper not minding about what they just witnessed because it's a normal occurrence for them and his other assistant or people who work under him and for those people who accidentally walk in they would be paid a large sum of mora to keep their mouth shut or have their mouth shut by having their tounge cut out. He has a reputation to keep of course.

Capitano ah the captain, the leader of the military of Snezhnaya, number one fatui Harbingers out of eleven of them. Many people love the captain even amongst the fatui being praised for his self righteousness and capabilities. And some even praise his abilities as a lover. Imagine when he walks out of his tent and his entire squad claps and praises his skills in bed. "Man I wish my lover would make me scream the same way the captain would make his beloved scream" or " I'm pretty much sure the captain got a large rack under their" comments spread around the fatui I mean the rumors are true tho. But it's pretty much embarrassing for both of you. So that's why the captain started to tie you up, gagged you as well blindfolding you to make sure not a sound or creak of bed let's out to make sure no one listens to you sing. During his trip in natlan you and him were enjoying the hot spring and ended up getting too "steamy" and got caught by the villagers due to how loud it is.

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moongreenlight · 1 year ago

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Have you ever seen that corny ass skit where it’s the girl talking to her husband asking him to fix things and he says “I’m not a plumber” “I’m not a carpenter” bla bla bla and then one day he comes home and the girl’s like “oh yeah I had the neighbor come over to fix the things you wouldn’t” and the neighbor says she can either bake him a cake or sleep with him as payment so the husband asks “so what kind of cake did you bake him?” And the girl says “I’m not a baker?”

Very much Neighbor!Price x stay-at-home-mom!reader coded :)

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Neighbor!Price who’s found a quiet little cul-de-sac to settle in when he’s got some time off. It’s a little neighborhood, mostly older people who’re thrilled to have a man like him around to help bring out bins and offer to mow their lawns or rake their leaves or shovel their drives when he’s around.

But somehow he’s found the only other younger family in the area living directly next to him. Parents are a few years his junior, and they’ve got two young kids. He assumes the boy, the older one, is early elementary age- sees you herding him into the car in the morning with a pack lunch and a backpack that’s nearly the same size as he is to and from the house in the morning and afternoon. And the girl, the younger, must be in pre-k, because she’s only out for half the day and doesn’t get the same pack lunch her brother gets.

He’s gotten to know you pretty well. When he’s around, the two of you will chat while you’re tending your garden and he’s working in his garage carrying out some odd project or another. He thinks you’re sweet. Likes the way you wear overalls with a little top when you’re planting flowers in the beds out front. How when you bend over or stand at the right angle he can imagine you’re not wearing a top at all.

He hates your husband. He’s crass and rude and never waves hello to any of the neighbors- odd for such a friendly little community. Leaves for work early and comes home late and leaves you to fend for yourself all day. Doesn’t know how to interact with you or your kids. And Price is almost certain he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked because his bedroom window looks over your living room and he’s caught you on the couch with your hand down your pants more times than could have been coincidence.

He’s known to be the neighborhood handyman. Got a little workshop set up in his garage and a general knowledge about nearly everything, so it’s not uncommon that he gets a knock on the door a few times a week. Usually it’s some of the older neighbors popping over to see if he can fix their TVs or help their grandkids connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you turn up on his porch mid-morning.

You’re scrunching the ends of your soaking wet hair in a towel. Apologizing as soon as you hear him turn the deadbolt. Feverishly going on about how you must have blown a circuit in the bathroom trying to dry your hair and you’d usually be able to manage but your husband shoved a bookshelf in front of the breaker and you can’t get through to it.

He’s sweet about it. Always is, but especially for you. Follows you over to your place and promises you no less than ten times that it’s really no trouble. He’s happy to help. It’s a quick fix, but he drags it out as long as he can. Insists on following you up and down the stairs from the basement to the top floor twice to make sure everything’s working properly.

He notices that the bathroom door sticks and that the fire alarm in the hallway is chirping from a low battery. You apologize for the toys in the living room and the clean laundry pile on the couch and the state of your house. Say that your husband is racking up a hefty to-do list with a small laugh that’s just a bit too forced.

He’s thrilled to tell you that he’s got some free time later in the week and says he’ll come over if only to help out your husband. Makes some backhanded remark about how your husband is clearly a busy lad. You refuse- of course- sweet thing that you are, but he turns up the next day after you’ve taken your kids to school anyway.

He tails you up the drive so there’s no way you can shut him out. Shushes you when you try to apologize for one reason or another and takes off to fix not only the sticky bathroom door and the fire alarm batteries, but also the dripping kitchen faucet and the garbage disposal that’s been broken for months.

You try to stay clear of whatever room he’s working in, chirping short responses to whatever nonsense question he asked in an attempt to lure you over. It was only when he was about to head out and he saw you leaning on the dryer to keep it shut that he saw his golden opportunity.

You were clearly trying to hide it, but even with a small load of clothes in, it sounded like you’d thrown a pair of boots into a tin garbage pail and shook it hard as you could. You tried to shoo him off, but he wasn’t having any of it.

There’s enough skirting around the subject to give you chance to turn down his advances, but when he realizes you’re not outright telling him to go fuck himself, he’s essentially taking it as a challenge to see if he can’t push you to that point.

Hoists you up on the still clanging machine and pushes between your legs on the weak pretense of needing you there to keep the door shut while he works. The machine shook the straps of your top down off your shoulders and made him acutely aware of the fact that you hadn’t had the time to put on a bra yet. It made his pants near painfully tight on the crotch.

He’d try and make idle chat. Your kids and plans for the day, but it’s entirely too hard for him to focus on anything other than the way your thighs are pressing together as the dry cycle started to bang the machine around more. He makes a light comment about how he’s not sure how you get anything done around the house with the dryer in this state. Your laugh is breathy.

And when he leans over you to reach to the back of the machine, he can feel the way your soft panting breaths fan his neck. Confirms his suspicions.

“Alright?”

You’re chewing the inside of your lip while you nod. Clearly starved for stimulation if all it takes is a dry cycle to get you off. Poor thing.

It’s stuffy in the laundry room. Adds to the appeal. Makes your shorts ride up and stick to your legs. Your thighs are dewy and glide together when you shift under his gaze.

“You sure, doll?”

The two of you are almost nose-to-nose. You’re leaned back, caged in by his big arms that look even bigger in his almost obscenely tight shirt. He’s smiling. Letting his eyes wander to your collarbones. The way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.

Before you could choke out your answer, the dryer stopped. Chimed the alert and slowly stilled. You took a shaky breath and nodded once more, looking like you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. He backed off, stretched out his hand to help you down.

You lead him to the kitchen. Ask if you can get him anything. Tea or food. He declines. You say something about stopping to get cash when you’re out picking up your daughter in a couple hours. He declines again.

“John, really, I appreciate your help. You have to let me get you back.”

You’re filling the kettle with water anyway, leaned just slightly over the sink. He knows it’s impolite to stare, but he’s never had very good manners when it came to things like that.

“Bake me a cake or somethin’, then. Sleep with me. Won’t take your money, though.”

You whirl around and end up sloshing some water down your front. Doesn’t seem to phase you. Your eyebrows are damn near at your hairline.

“I don’t know if that’s appropriate, considering…”

He snorts a soft laugh. It’s kind- not at all suggestive. Like he’s playing off a clever joke.

“What? Baking me a cake?”

You purse your lips and set the kettle on the stove.

“Never been a very good baker.”

He about hurdles the kitchen island like he’s running track.

“That right?”

You make a thoughtful sound before clicking on the burner. He can see you biting back a smile. You finally turn to face him. Leaned back on your hands with your head cocked slightly to the side.

“I just don’t know that it would be appropriate given our- my- situation.”

It’s his turn to hum and nod. Take a few steps forward, slow and slinky like a predator stalking toward its prey.

“Sure.”

You chew your bottom lip. Try to find some resolve in fussing with your wedding ring. It’s horrible. Small. He can’t help but think about how he’d be able to get you a much better one. He takes a few more steps forward.

“It’s complicated, John.”

Your voice is mousy now.

“I know.”

A few more steps forward and he’s back nose-to-nose with you. Pinning you against the counter.

“I just-“

“Then tell me to go home.”

The button of his jeans grazes your groin and sends sparks up your spine. You recoil slightly, but he’s got his massive hands on your wrists to keep you in place.

“My husb-“

“Don’t. S’not what I said. Tell me to go home. Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave. S’easy as that.”

The coarse hair of his beard brushes along your jaw. Visible goosebumps rise all the way up your neck and down your arms.

“John, he-“

A throaty growl from him.

“He’s not getting a lick of you.”

And then somehow he’s got you on your back on the couch. Shoved off the pile of laundry and pushed you down. His eyes are near pitch black and hungry. Ravenous. He tears off your shorts. Doesn’t wait for you to hoist your hips, just yanks so hard that you’re a little worried you’ll get thrown off the couch with them.

He is wretched. Planting wet kisses from the inside of your knee all the way up to your sex frustratingly slow. Big hands splayed over your hips to keep you from bucking up into his mouth. He’s got this maddeningly smug smile on his face like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say I told you so. Like he knew this was going to happen from the start, you were just too stupid to see.

Your underwear is embarrassingly wet from your little go on the dryer. Your pussy puffy and sensitive underneath. You whine when he kisses over the damp spot. Laves his tongue over your folds without pulling them to the side. He makes some comment about the state of you that borders on snarky, but you choose to ignore it.

When he finally does rid you of your panties, there’s a moment of clarity where you realize what you’re doing. You push up on your elbows and try to roll out from under him, but he gives your clit a mean slap that forces you back onto the couch and ends your protest. Sends you to that liminal, clouded headspace where all you can focus on is how desperately you need to come.

It’s clear he’s savoring the moment. Running the point of his tongue through your folds. Teasing at your hole. Artfully swirling around your clit, but never close enough to give you the friction you’re so desperately craving. Planting hot, wet kisses on your inner thighs. Leaves a few love bites in his wake like he’s boasting; so certain your husband wouldn’t get close enough to notice that he had no problem decorating you as he pleased.

You’re a mess. Being taken apart stitch by stitch. Panting and whining and begging for more. Your orgasm is coiling tight under your belly without him having to do much. Any other time you’d have felt a little pathetic, but you were too preoccupied to care now.

He finally brings his hands up and you think he’s about to stuff you full, but he only lets his fingers drag slowly along your sensitive sex. Collects some of your arousal and pulls it up toward your naval. Watches the goosebumps form under his touch.

He rucks your shirt up with his free hand and immediately wraps his lips around your pebbled nipples. Tongues at them. Lets his teeth graze teasingly over them. And whatever one he’s not got currently in his mouth, he’s working his fingers over. Pinching and flicking until you’re teary eyed and squirming under him.

And then finally, fucking finally, he ducks back down and fixes his mouth on your clit. Sucks gently on the swollen bud for just a moment and then companies his mouth with two fingers bullying their way inside you.

The stretch is almost uncomfortable in its suddenness, but you quickly get used to it. The pleasure is blinding. Forces you to throw your head back against the cushion and screw your eyes tightly shut. A string of high, needy moans float through your gaped lips.

He’s sweet, Jesus, is he. Hums and groans with his mouth still on your bundle of nerves. Pulls away just enough to tell you how pretty your pussy is taking him before going back to work on your sensitive clit. You want to scream. You think you may actually come entirely undone on this couch if he doesn’t stop.

And then your orgasm coils so tightly within you that it explodes outward. Tears through you and leaves every square inch of your skin sizzling. He doesn’t let up. Pins you down by the stomach with his forearm and continues down his warpath. The sounds his fingers make when they sink into you are so pornographic that it makes your face hot.

You eventually find it in you to warble out something that sounded like please, too much. And he pulled off, still with that smug grin pulling his lips now surrounded by glistening slick caught in the hair of his beard.

He gives you one last kiss. Lewd and wet and so searing hot you’re worried it will actually blister the sensitive flesh of your cunt. He’ll sit back on his haunches and fuss with the button and zipper of his jeans before saying something horrible and cheeky like

“C’mon, doll. Thought you were set on payin’ me back.”

#he sees a family with a present but shitty father and says ‘it’s free real estate’ I hate him #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #captain price smut #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader #captain john price #captain price #price cod #john price #cod price #141 x reader #x reader

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miupow · 18 days ago

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ℌOℓเ𝔇AY 𝔇ECOɌATเNɠ ⸝⸝ 휴닝카이

asking your favorite i.t guy for help decorating goes horribly (or perfectly) wrong. 一 𝒾n 𝓌hich you and your coworker huening kai get stuck in a closet together during a snowstorm。

⧼ 🎄 ⧽ 一 𝓅airing・hueningkai x fem!reader 𝓰enre/𝓌arnings・smut, fluff, pwp, nsfw, minors do not interact! trapped in a closet trope, power outages, sex with the lights off, groping, breast worship, nipple sucking, dry humping, handjobs, clitoral stimulation, unprotected sex, pullout method, vaginal sex, cumshot, cum marking, begging, slight sub!kai but not really, praise kink, size kink, resolved romantic and sexual tension 𝓌c ・5. 9 k | 𝓉o 𝓁ibrary.

[𝓃otes。] holy shit this is so much longer than i meant for it to be. i was just possessed by some sort of demon and wrote this thing in two days, which is the fastest i've ever written anything ever... thank you @jellymochii for betareading! hope you all enjoy this cute little fic while on your holiday breaks ^_^

no one had ever bothered to warn you about how difficult it was to plan a party. maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity when it had been presented to you— though it was awfully in your nature as a corporate kiss-ass to accept any work-related project that was offered to you in blind hope that you’ll manage to impress some higher-up somewhere along the line. you had only been hired at txt bank a few months ago, anyway, and the lady you replaced was the one who oversaw all the holiday decorating. didn’t that mean, technically speaking, that by association it was now your job too? either way, you figured that it would do you some good to prove yourself dependable.

“i’m sure you’ll do great,” your boss, yeonjun had reassured you with a not-so-comforting pat on the back. “don’t be afraid to ask for help!”

you were terrified to ask for help. you didn’t even know most of your coworkers’ names yet, let alone feel comfortable enough with them to ask for help with a benefit-less side quest. it might just be paranoia, but you were sure they wouldn’t want to help you even if you did ask. the old financial analysist seems to have been a popular staple in the office, and you were a far cry away from the life of the party. young, inexperienced, and far too shy for your own good— you’ve never had any of your peers reach out to you for more than letting you know what you were doing wrong. yeonjun’s assistant, beomgyu, was the only person in the bank you felt even remotely comfortable with, having known him since you were a freshman in college, and without his mentoring and his happy-go-lucky attitude, you were sure that you would have buckled under the pressure long before you made it to the new year.

naturally, you run to him first.

“you don’t want my help, believe me,” he laughs, swiveling around in his desk chair to face you. “why don’t you ask kai? you know he’ll say yes— hell, you could probably ask him to jump from the tenth floor and he’d do it. he’s obsessed with you.”

“he’s not obsessed.” you retort weakly, rolling your eyes. “he’s just being nice.”

“sure, buying you coffee and lunch, following you around like a lost puppy, and offering to walk you to your car every night is just being nice.”

“i asked him to that first time!” you pout. “the parking garage is scary when it’s dark out…”

huening kai worked in the bank’s i.t. department, down in the basement. even then, you still saw him often, the poor boy constantly running up and down those stairs whenever he was called. he was the only stranger to welcome you warmly when you first began at the company, offering his assistance with anything you needed— it was an honest godsend, because the computer software went so far over your head it made you dizzy. you still haven’t gotten quite the hang of it, but that was mostly because it was difficult to focus on what kai was saying when he was bent over you so closely and intimately, explaining equations and spreadsheets with that soft, gentle voice of his. you only felt dizzier in his presence, so nothing he told you ever stuck… but that worked just fine for you, because that meant you could keep asking for his help.

beomgyu says that kai has a crush on you. you’re certain he’s just that sweet and friendly with everyone.

as much as you hate it, beomgyu’s right that kai would help you out if you asked him to. you feel bad for hogging up all of his time, as busy as he is even when he isn’t assisting people, but if beomgyu won’t help you he’s the only other person you’re willing to ask. when you see him again later that evening, smiling that pretty lopsided smile that gives your tummy butterflies, offering to walk you through the parking garage again, you ask him meekly if he’d help you decorate for the office christmas party.

he accepts a little more enthusiastically than you had anticipated he would. “there’s a storage closet down in the basement that has some old decorations from last year’s party.” he tells you as you dig around in your purse for your car keys, “i can show it to you sometime if you’d like! it’ll have to be after everyone goes home, though. i’m technically not allowed to go rooting through storage.”

“isn’t there supposed to be a snowstorm tomorrow?” you ask. “yeonjun told me he’ll let everyone go home early if it starts getting really bad. maybe we can stay behind then?”

“ooh, sneaky.” kai giggles. “sounds like a plan!”

your heart raced the entire drive home. it was just going through some old dusty decorations, it wasn’t a date or anything even close to it, but why did your heartbeat flutter like it was one? that night you tossed and turned, unable to sleep— no matter how hard you tried to clear your head you couldn’t stop thinking about your plans with kai. part of you was nervous you would land in trouble with yeonjun if you were caught snuck around the office after hours, but all of that anxiety was drowned out effortlessly by your excitement and anticipation. alone? with kai? it might not be a date to him, but it sure was one to you.

by the time exhaustion finally overtook you, rays of light from the rising sun were already beginning to stream through the gap in your curtains. you get only a few hours of sleep before your morning alarm forces you awake. you’re tired and groggy, and can barely stay awake to get dressed and ready for work, but the sight of fresh falling snow out your window revitalizes you better than any cup of coffee. frigid, bitter wind slaps you in the face as you leave your house, your flimsy scarf and coat doing little to shield you from the brewing blizzard, but you can’t find it in you to be unhappy even as you nearly slip and break your neck getting to your car. this is exactly what you were hoping for, and a quick glance at your phone confirms that the snowfall is only going to get worse.

you find it difficult to focus all day, partly because of your nerves and partly because you kept looking out the office windows to admire the snow. seoul turns nearly invisible below you, all the streets and buildings covered in a sparkling, dazzling blanket of pure white that blinds you. it was oddly peaceful, the swirling snowfall silencing the usually loud and bustling city.

by lunchtime, you couldn’t see anything outside at all. the snowflakes turn rapidly to sleet and ice, and the wind picks up to the point it’s howling and shaking the windows. yeonjun began sending people home at two, and by four the office was silent for an entirely different reason.

you tell yeonjun that you have some extra statements to go through, but that you’ll be leaving shortly— you even make a show out of packing up your purse, going extra slow just in case he wants to stay and chat. thankfully, he exits the office without much fuss, reminding you to drive carefully, and to tell security when you’re leaving so they could lock up behind you.

“of course, sir, thank you. have a good night.” you reply with a tight smile, praying that you don’t look as guilty as you feel.

once you hear the exit doors close behind him, you shoot up out of your desk and hightail it to the basement. kai meets you at the stairs, grinning and waving excitedly with his bag slung over his shoulder. “it shouldn’t take very long, the closet’s pretty small,” he says, ushering you to follow him. “i want us both to get out of here before the storm gets any worse.”

while you certainly wouldn’t mind spending extra time alone with kai, the last thing you want is to get snowed in at the office. he leads you down a dimly lit hallway, flanked on each side by identical personal offices. the rooms were empty and dark, devoid of any signs of life or activity— it shouldn’t surprise you, seeing how everyone had left for the day, but something about the uncanny, isolated atmosphere gave you the creeps. kai continues to lead you to the very end of the hall, stopping at a scuffed, unmarked wooden door. a keypad fixed to the adjacent wall blinks brightly in the dark.

“this is the closet you were talking about?” you question, eyeing the door oddly. “it doesn’t look like a storage closet at all. why’s it got a keypad?”

“it used to be a server room, i think. there’s still some equipment in the back.” kai responds lightly, bending over slightly to plug in the code for the keypad. “now it’s just used to store stuff we don’t need, though only my department can use it. expensive computers and whatnot. after last year’s christmas party i helped put away everything, and i stored it all in here ‘cos i was too lazy to take it all the way to the top floor.”

the keypad beeps and the little blinking light turns green. kai pulls the door open and gestures you inside.

the air in the storage closet is stale and dusty. you search in the dark for the light switch, but kai locates it with ease, and you find yourself having to blink hard a couple of times to adjust to the near-blinding fluorescent light. against each wall countless labeled boxes and tubs are stacked up nearly to the ceiling, each one filled to the brim. a line of folding chairs leaned up against a broken desk, a ladder and some cleaning supplies occupied a far corner. as kai had said, abandoned old server racks had been pushed to the very back of the room, collecting dust, far too outdated to be of any use anymore. the room was small and narrow with no windows, barely enough room to move around besides the carefully constructed walkway that wove between all the junk. you feel awfully claustrophobic, especially with kai’s tall, broad frame stepping in behind you. you both toss your bags to an empty spot on the floor, and the door swings shut with a dull click.

you can still hear the storm outside, even down here. the wind howls and whips around viciously, and the sleet pummels the walls like thousands of tiny bullets.

“there should be a fake tree in here somewhere,” huening murmurs, squeezing past you to make his way towards the back of the closet. his chest brushes against your back as he moves past, and you can feel the firm planes of his broad pecs through the thin material of his button down shirt. “and some wreaths and ribbons and things. i think i hid them all back here so i wouldn’t get in trouble.”

you laugh airily, a little too distracted to fully pay attention to what he was saying. “you? in trouble? i don’t think yeonjun has the heart.”

kai shrugs, opening a random cardboard box and peering inside. “you’d be surprised. you haven’t been here long enough to see what he’s capable of— oh, by the way, how are you liking it here so far? getting the hang of everything?”

you should probably be helping him, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the way the muscles in his back ripple through his shirt. “i, um. i’m still figuring it out. i really appreciate your help.”

the blizzard grows even louder outside, to the point it’s beginning to frighten you. you don’t think you’ve ever heard of a snowstorm causing a building’s walls to cave in, but there’s always a first for everything.

if kai notices that you haven’t moved from where you stood by the door, he doesn’t mention it. “no need to thank me! i’m happy to, really. i’ll help you out with whatever you need anytime, y/n, you just have to ask. you know you can count on me.” he moves on to another box, seemingly still searching in vain for those decorations. ”who’s your favorite coworker? if you have one, i mean—ah, that’s a stupid question. it’s probably beomgyu.”

kai’s tone changed suddenly, from happy and bright to something you couldn’t quite place. you’ve never heard kai sound like that before. “what do you mean?” you prod, cocking your head to the side.

he looks as if he’s weighing the question, biting the inside of his round cheek as his eyes look everywhere except at your face. “well, i mean, like… he’s your friend, right? and you and him have known each other for years now. you hang out with him every day, outside of work too, going to the bar and whatever. and you’re always talking about him, and laughing at his jokes, and looking his stupid face and his stupid hair—”

you’re not sure how to quite process that. “actually, kai… my favorite coworker is you.”

kai’s head spins around so fast that you’re afraid it’s going to come off, his big brown eyes wide with shock. “wait, what? really?!”

“yes, really.” you giggle, “i thought you would have known that, silly. beomgyu’s my friend and all, but he gets on my nerves all the time. you’ve just been so sweet to me when nobody else has, and you’ve made me feel so welcome… it really means a lot.”

kai’s face turns an adorable shade of pink, all the way to the tips of his ears. “oh. well. um. th-thank you. i—” he averts his eyes back to all the boxes, shyly lowering his head. his long dark bangs fall into his eyes, shielding the unreadable emotions that swirled in their dark chocolate depths. “i’m glad you feel that way… i can’t seem to find any of these stupid decorations, i’m worried we’re not going to be able to make it out of here before the power goes—”

just then, the light flickers, pops, and plunges both of you back into complete and total darkness.

“—out.”

it’s so dark inside the storage closet that you can’t even see your hands in front of your face— if you screw your eyes shut and open them again, it makes no difference, completely blind to everything except the cacophonous howling of the wind. “shit!” kai curses, the first time you’ve ever heard him do so, some loud stumbling and crashing coming from your left. “hold on, i’ll get us out of here—”

more crashing and banging, now moving your way; you open your mouth to warn him far too late, and kai barrels into you, nearly knocking you over. “sorry!” he yelps, outstretching his arm to break your fall and instead grabbing a fat fistful of your breast. he doesn’t seem to even notice, his hands large and warm and squeezing a little too tightly, seeping through the thin material of your blouse and bra and making a very unwelcome heat bloom between your legs.

“um, kai,” you stutter, trying your hardest to keep your voice level, “that’s… my boob.”

kai tears his hand away as if it were touching hot coals, and much to your dismay you find yourself immediately missing his touch. “i’m so sorry!” he repeats in a rush, stumbling over his words, his usually deep voice a couple octaves higher. you’re sure his handsome face is glowing crimson red, and distantly you wish the lights were on so you could see it. “i— i, i didn’t mean to, i swear!”

“i know you didn’t,” you reassure him quickly, reaching out your own arms to help him squeeze himself by. with your help, he manages to slip his way past you, towards the general vicinity of the doorway, his feet knocking over things all the way there. you can hear him pressing buttons rapidly on the keypad, the device making no noise or beeping any lights— kai curses again and slams his fist against the wall, the loud thud echoing throughout the dark room.

“we’re stuck in here.” kai mutters in dismay.

“what do you mean we’re stuck in here?!”

“the door automatically locks itself when it closes and the keypad is the only way to unlock it… and it turned off along with the power. it’s alright though, the backup generator should turn on any minute now…”

the two of you stand around in silence for a long pregnant pause. the power does not turn back on.

“or not.” he gripes. “okay, this is fine, we’ll get out of here somehow— here, let me turn on my phone flashlight…”

kai rummages around in his pockets before pulling out what you assume is his phone. you anticipate seeing the little flashlight to finally illuminate the all-encompassing dark, but it never comes. “…and my phone’s dead. great. just great.”

“you really need to get better about charging that thing.” you quip sarcastically. “how many times have you asked to borrow my charger? now i only bring it because i know you’ll need it.”

“i know, i didn’t— wait, really? just for me?”

you don’t respond to his question, your cheeks flaring up from the confession you didn’t mean to let slide. “my phone should still have a charge.” you say, attempting to change the subject, “but i left it in my purse. i’m gonna try and grab it.”

carefully, you begin to shuffle your way towards the corner of the room, where you were at least mostly certain that you and kai had placed down your bags. kai follows you closely, his large hands balanced on your shoulders to keep him steady… a fine ideas at first, when you were making good headway, but you didn’t get very far at all.

you manage to only make it a few short steps before your kitten heel catches on something rolling around on the ground— kai must have knocked the contents of a few boxes over on his way over to you, little plastic bulbs that feel an awful lot like christmas ornaments, as ironic as it is. you trip and stumble, and you probably could have caught yourself easily if it wasn’t for kai’s large body falling with you. you both come crashing to the floor, your sharp gasp drowned out by kai’s loud shriek right in your ear; he squishes you against the cold linoleum floor, his chest pressed against your back, his hips flush against your ass. you try to wriggle free, but kai is just too heavy on top of you, motionless and oddly silent as he breathes hard against the back of your neck.

“oh my god, kai, you big oaf, get off of me!” you whine, attempting in vain to push yourself up onto your hands and knees— your wiggle your hips against kai’s own, akin to a bucking hose trying to unseat it’s rider, and that’s when you feel it.

your pencil skirt has ridden up so that only your pantyhose and underwear were covering your ass, and you can feel every inch of kai’s hardening dick pressed up against you as if there were no clothes between you at all. the weight and curve of it, slotted perfectly between your asscheeks like it belonged there, the way it twitches violently in his slacks when you gasp.

“i’m sorry,” he whimpers, his head buried in your shoulder, his voice wobbly like he was about to cry, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry—”

just then do you register his hands on your hips, touching you so intimately, steadfast in their movements down your ass and thighs despite shaking like a leaf. he’s never been this close to you before, his body so sculpted and masculine against you, his soft plump lips ghosting over the exposed skin of your neck, wafts of his musky cologne clouding your senses. you shouldn’t do this, you should remain professional… but you’ve wanted huening kai for months, since you first met him, and having him pressed against you so helpless and vulnerable has destroyed all your control and reason. all you could think about was that kai wanted you too, and you had the proof straining against you and begging to be freed.

you roll your hips back against him slowly, as if not to startle him— the broken moan that falls from those kissable lips is downright obscene, whiny and desperate, shooting hot sparks of pleasure down your body to your core.

“a-ah, d-did you, um. did you mean to d-do that?” he asks in a small voice, his cock growing even harder against you.

you can’t take it anymore— in kai’s dazed state you manage to pull yourself up from underneath him, spinning around on your knees to grab wildly in his direction. you manage to get your fist wrapped around his tie, and with a sharp tug kai’s lips come crashing down onto yours. his lips are soft and pillowy against your own, tasting a little sweet, like the tea with milk and honey he enjoys drinking while he works. his panting breath tickles your skin, his fingers coming up to card through your hair as you open your mouths and breathe each other in. your bodies press together heatedly, hands roaming everywhere you could reach, groping and pulling each other impossibly closer together. kai’s other hand slides down your back to cup your ass, squeezing the plush lightly between his fingers. swathed in all this darkness, it was easy to forget that you weren’t dreaming.

you’ve never kissed or been kissed like this before.

“does that answer your question?” you giggle when you part for air, panting hotly into each others mouths before kai descends upon you to recapture your lips himself.

this kiss is even more heated than the last, kai prying your lips apart to deepen the passion with teeth and tongue. you wish you could see, could admire the sharp tic of kai’s jaw as he kissed you, lose yourself in those beautiful brown eyes. bear some witness to something you were sure would never happen. you could feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, blood rushing in your ears to drown out the storm as you both fumble with each other’s clothes. kai’s hands move to cup your tits, squeezing harshly when you run your hand down his chest and belly to his belt buckle. it’s a struggle to unfasten in the dark, but you manage to roughly tear his fly open and fish his hot throbbing cock out of his boxers. you wrap your hand around it, so fat your fingers barely connect— kai lets out a strangled whine as you stroke up to thumb at the tip, thick globs of precum slicking up your hand.

“t-take it off,” kai grits out against your lips, his large hands fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, “please, wanna feel—”

an affirming hum is all he needs, impatiently pulling at the buttons— your blouse pops open with a loud ripping sound, and he pulls both your top and bra down just enough for your breasts to fall out. your nipples harden in the cold air, but they’re quickly warmed up by kai’s fingers. he pinches and tugs at the buds roughly, the sensation making you keen wantonly.

“kai! that shirt was expensive!” you whine, but the hand pumping his cock only strokes faster— you really couldn’t find it within yourself to care much about anything, and you wanted to make sure kai didn’t stop to apologize even more than he already has.

“couldn’t help it, i just love your tits,” kai groans, letting go of your nipples to grope and massage the fat mounds of your breasts. his grip gets tighter with every flick of your wrist, breath coming out in short airy pants. “fuck, you’re so sexy, it makes me g-go insane. running around in those tight tops and those short little skirts, i just want to— ah!— f-fuck you all the time—!”

“kai,” you whimper, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to quell the searing heat growing between them.

“i wish i could see you right now,” he continues, and you jump at the sensation of a hot wet tongue against your nipple. “i could probably cum just from how hot you look— god, i’ve been wanting to do this for forever.”

his plump, spit-slick lips seal around your hard bud, his hands continuing to play with your chest as he sucks and nibbles. you cry out high in your throat, letting go of his twitching cock to crumple your fist in his shirt. your pussy aches to be touched, dripping so much slick you’re sure you’ve completely ruined your panties. kai’s fingers and mouth better than anything you’ve ever felt before, good enough to make you cum from just this alone, but you desperately, wildly, primally need more.

“touch me!” you beg him, pulling him impossibly closer, right where you need him most. “kai, please touch me!”

kai gives your nipple one last tug between his teeth before pulling off with a pop, leaving your breasts covered in his spit and erupting in goose flesh from the frigid air. slowly and carefully he crawls himself between your open legs, sliding his fingers underneath your bunched up skirt. he runs a fingertip down the gusset of your panties, just the ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make you keen in delight. “you’re so wet,” kai laments, sounding utterly debauched, rubbing between your weeping pussy lips over the lace, circling your clit until you mewl, “made a mess in your panties… did i really make you this wet? that’s so fucking hot…”

he relinquishes his finger, and you’re not sure what you were expecting next, but it definitely wasn’t for him to grab ahold of your pantyhose and underwear and tear them from your body in one powerful yank. the nylon and lace rip like paper, the ghastly sound ringing in your ears, and kai tosses the shredded fabric to the side before positioning himself to kneel between your thighs.

“i’ll do more than touch you if you’ll let me,” he whispers in your ear, running his hand up your inner thigh leaving behind a burning trail in it’s wake, “i wanna fuck you so bad, baby, please, can i? i’ll buy you new clothes, i’ll buy you whatever you want, just let me ruin you…”

“we don’t have a condom…” you breathe, but you widen your legs to give him more room anyway. usually that would be a deal-breaker for you, but you’ve already done more in this closet than you would have ever even dreamed of doing.

“i’ll pull out, i promise.” kai’s voice is far too soothing for your own good, those terrible, god-sent big hands grabbing ahold of the back of your knees to expose you even further. you can hardly think at all anymore, too focused on the throbbing need swirling deep in your pussy, and how good it would feel if you would take the risk and just let go.

“please…” is all you can manage to say, and with a delighted groan huening folds your legs up to rest on his shoulders and positions his weeping cock at your entrance. it feels so filthy, with your torn-up pantyhose still clinging to your legs and your heels hanging from your toes, and once again you wished desperately that you could see just how lewd of a sight the two of you were.

kai slides his cock up and down between your folds, getting his shaft nice and wet with your juices. his bulbous cockhead bumps deliciously against your clit before gliding back down to your entrance, pressing against the rim of your hole just enough to tease before letting up and doing it again. as hot as it is and as good as it feels, you can’t handle any teasing anymore, not when you’ve been on the edge and in need of release for this long.

“put it in,” you beg, and you can hardly recognize your own voice. you sound so needy, so pornographic— it would be embarrassing if you weren’t this far gone. “please, please, need you s’ bad, kai, need your cock—”

kai shushes you with an unexpectedly chaste kiss, sweet and gentle and nothing at all like the way he was thrusting himself inside of your tight wet heat like an animal. the stretch burns so good you nearly scream, his cock longer and fatter than any you’ve ever taken before. for a delirious moment you worry that he’ll tear you in half, that he won’t fit, your walls clenching down on him like a vice as he forces his way deeper and deeper, until his tip kisses your cervix and his balls slap wetly against your ass.

“s-so big,” you slur, clawing weakly at his chest, your mouth slack and your mind completely blank except for how impossibly full you feel.

“is it too much?” kai asks you nervously, back to his sweet anxious self for a split second. “i’m so sorry, i couldn’t stop myself, pussy’s sucking me in—”

“feels so goo-o-od!” you mewl dumbly, finding it harder and harder to string a sentence together the longer kai is inside of you. “need more, hyuka, give it to me!”

the innocent nickname makes him moan, and just like you wanted and pleaded for he begins to fuck you in sincere earnest. his thrusts are fast and brutal, lit by a deep, primal fire you had no idea kai possessed. it knocks the wind out of you, overwhelmed in the best possible way, your mouth falling slack and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you moan loudly every time his cock spears your cervix.

“deep! so f-fucking deep!” you hiccup breathlessly, surrendering yourself completely to the onslaught of red-hot pleasure. you can feel him in your belly, right under your navel, your wet little pussy squelching obscenely with every movement of kai’s hips. he finds your sweet spot with shocking ease, angling his cock to drag against that spongey bundle of nerves and make you even wetter.

“yeah?” kai croons, thrusting himself inside of you impossibly harder, faster, “feels so good, huh? fuck, this pussy’s so fucking wet, so fucking tight— best cunt i’ve ever had, baby, feels better than i ever imagined… can’t let you go now, perfect girl all for me. this perfect pussy’s all mine, you hear, no one elses!”

he recaptures your pert nipple between his lips, suckling even rougher than before; your breasts bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts, sensitive flesh jiggling in his face as he trails his teeth and tongue across the planes of your cleavage, leaving dusky lovebites in his wake. he slobbers over your tits like a hungry dog, his moans and whines muffled by your nipples he takes turns slurping them up into his mouth. the pangs of pleasure from your sore nipples combined with kai’s quickening pace and filthy words tug you closer and closer to the brink of insanity, the fiery hot tsunami building deep within your belly threatening to overflow and toss you into its euphoric depths.

“love you so much,” kai admits as he continues to babble nonsense, seemingly not noticing just what was coming out of his mouth, “been wanting you for so fucking long, needed you so bad— my pretty girl, so beautiful, wanna see your face when you cum. you must look so sexy when you cum.”

your heart clenches along with your cunt.

there is nothing you can see, but there is plenty you can hear— kai’s hips clapping against your ass, his beautiful broken whimpering, the slick sounds of your pussy gushing around his cock. you open your mouth to speak, voice the mounting ecstasy that built steadily in your throbbing cunt, but you can’t seem to get out anything other than shrill, pathetic cries of pleasure. your mind was wiped completely blank, nothing but static behind your eyes, thoughts filled with nothing except the pressure in your core and how good it would feel if you let it consume you.

“gonna cum!” you wail, using up all your energy into making yourself speak— kai groans happily, his thrusts grow desperate and sloppy, speeding up to pound your sweet spot into oblivion.

“yes! cum with me, angel, come on, you can do it.” he coos, voice shaking as his body jolts and shudders above you. his hands come down to press hard on your engorged, sensitive clit, rubbing tight circles against the throbbing bud. “that’s it, make a mess, cum all over my cock!”

your orgasm hits you like a truck, your entire body shaking from the overwhelming pleasure as you pulsate and gush around him. you recognize distantly that you’re squirting, droplets of viscous liquid splashing all over your tummy and thighs, drenching huening as well. your release triggers his own climax, and he wrenches out his cock from your quivering pussy just milliseconds before ropes and ropes of thick, sticky cum splatters hot and wet all over your heaving tits.

“holy fuck,” kai whimpers, unable to catch his breath, “that was the best sex i’ve ever had.”

you just giggle weakly, trying to calm down your racing heart yourself; the two of you lay against each other in silence for a moment basking in the afterglow while you both come down from your highs. your orgasm sucked all the life force out of you, it seemed, leaving you weak and exhausted as you lay boneless on the cold storage closet floor.

and just like that, the lights turn back on. the heating system starts back up again. you’re nearly blinded after spending so long in the dark, squinting your eyes as you take in your surroundings.

kai is staring right back at you.

his dark hair is wild and sticking out in all directions, his eyes blown wide and his cheeks dusted pink. his tie is half-undone and his work shirt is terribly wrinkled, drenched in what you can only assume to be your juices. his softening cock lies against his thigh, poking out from his unzipped fly, slacks just as damp and ruined as his shirt was. his chest heaves with the force of his breaths, no doubt taking in your own appearance himself. you look down just enough to see your torn clothes, your cumstained breasts and wet thighs, your smart professional outfit looking like it was ravaged by some sort of rabid animal.

“you look beautiful.” kai whispers in rapture, gazing down at you with soft melted chocolate eyes.

“um.” you respond smartly, cheeks burning, averting your eyes to check the closet door— the keypad’s light blinks cheerfully at you, as if it had never been turned off in the first place. “do you want to get out of here?”

kai smiles, that signature smile that gives you even more butterflies now than it did before. “do you wanna watch a christmas movie at my place?”

tomorrow x together taglist ; @wintertxt, @boba-beom, @wolfytae-exe, @naomiarai , @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @bunnie-hq , @doumachi , @numxra , @soobinsbuns , @taegimood , @jeniihss, @soobabby , @hhoneylix , @beargyuuzz @fullbodyblankets , @xenkimmie , @ttaesoob , @shinyngirl , @lxnoluvr , @blxxsss , @ode2soob , @beom-gyubears, @ashiixari , @lurking-coconut , @horanghaelovr , @yyeonzi , @paegesoobin , @nightlyhyuka, @urstylezx , @f4iryfever , @givethnofucketh , @allisonistrashh, @katsukis1wife , @luvtyunn , @tyunzonlystar, @inkigayocamman , @hyunj00 , @hwanghyunjinismybae , @strawberryshoujosundae , @enigmaticaphrodite , @txtistheloml , @jellymochii, @welostthesummer111, @skzooluvr

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#txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #huening kai x reader #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai smut #hueningkai fanfic #hueningkai hard hours #hueningkai hard thoughts #kpop smut

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honey-pages · 1 month ago

Text

Study Date - Viktor x Reader

Description -

Viktor waits for you in the library for an unexpected study date.

1.9k Words.

Part 2

F/M. 18+. Smut. Semi-Public Sex. Fingering. Dirty Talk.

Your project was due soon - next Wednesday, and with all the work that went into the subject you were working on, you desperately needed some focused library time. Maybe borrowing some books, writing down your initial thoughts, and annotating your materials would clear your brain. You were assigned an important research topic not long ago, by your supervisor and it was imperative that it was done quickly and accurately. The library was not far from your room and warm at this time of night. They liked to give out blankets on loan at the door, it wasn’t unusual for researchers to work overnight or with the aid of supplements to allow them to focus for longer periods of time, usually spanning until morning.

As you approach the main entrance, you pick up a blue blanket and scan your identification card. The staff at the desk smile at you as you walk through, you are familiar with them, and they are accustomed to your presence there. You climb the first set of stairs, undecided on where to go. The library seemed empty tonight. You climb another set of stairs. At the top was a sharp corner leading to your favourite seating area. In an alcove surrounded by bookshelves is a small desk with four chairs, and seated there, almost like he was waiting for your appearance, was Viktor.

You were not surprised to find him here; he was a busy man. You were however a little confused as to why he wasn’t in his lab and was instead in your favourite study spot. The library was a silence only zone on the floor you had reached and as you looked over at Viktor, he raised his gaze and held eye contact with you, a smile slowly seeping across his face. He pats the chair directly next to him, summoning you forward.

You had always felt a certain appreciation for him. The way he worked, his personality, his cause. You cared deeply for him, not only as a friendship, but intimately. You hadn’t figured he was interested in that kind of relationship. He was always so invested in his work; it didn’t appear he had much time for more. But sometimes at night, your mind wandered, and you pondered a reality in which he did. What would he do? Who was he interested in? You had hoped, in that reality, that it would be you - but you could never be sure. Quick glances were untrustworthy, and kind words can always be misinterpreted, though sometimes you were sure you noticed something in your interactions that was different: intimate.

You watched him closely as you approached the seat, admiring him. You perhaps hadn’t realised the extent of thoughts you had about him. You felt fluttery and a little weak but that was nothing more than you felt towards him on the regular. Settling down into the seat, you slung your bag against the leg of the table and pulled out your books, setting the blanket down over your lap.

In a hushed whisper from your left came, “Hello (Y/N), it’s nice to see you here, I was wondering when you would show.”

He faced the paper he was working on. On the table splayed out were multiple thick tomes and sheets of paper littered with equations and lines of handwritten notes.

“I should say the same”, you replied, flattered that he had been waiting for you, “it’s so rare to see you out of the lab. What are you working on?”

He swipes his hand, referencing the mass of papers in front of him, “oh nothing. A mechanised power fist for a robot that needs some tinkering with.”

He looks up at you with the last of these words, smiling at your interest in his work, even if he does downplay its importance. In his time away from his main work, he is focusing on improving and fixing his personal projects. You had heard whispers previously about a robot he had been working on. It was not common knowledge around those who studied in your department. You returned the smile.

There was an alert over the announcement system, “Please be aware that this floor is a dedicated silent area. Thanks for your cooperation”

Viktor made a mock grimace before shrugging and smirking, “I feel someone would like us to be quieter.”

You smirk back at him, settling back to face forwards in your chair. You hadn’t realised that your body had turned to face him, hips angling at his knees. Your body language was betraying your attraction. In some ways, in acknowledgement to his intelligence, you figured he must know. He is simply too smart to not realise that you felt the way you did.

You tried to immerse yourself in your work, however his presence did become somewhat of a distraction. Just his proximity to you made you feel seen and watched. You spent what felt like an hour within your own thoughts, sometimes drifting in between fantasies about him, and unfocused thoughts of your deadline.

Viktor placed his hand on your thigh.

A burning surge ran through your body to your stomach, your leg felt hot where his hand lay. You were in disbelief, as though all the ambiguous questions you had were instantaneously answered and you were given an impossible positive answer. You felt your internal organs drop and raise, replaced with butterflies. There was silence. You stole a glance to your left, to his face. He was completely stone faced and confident in his focus on his work. Is this why he saved you a seat?

You shifted slightly, Viktor flinched his hand away, startled. “Oh sorry, have I misread, do you not- “

Without thinking you reach and grab Viktor’s hand and replace it where it had just been. A silent gesture of reassurance that he is exactly where you want him to be. He smirks once again, removing his hand once more. He reaches down for the corner of your blanket, pulling it over the laps of you both, before slipping his hand underneath, allowing it to rest where it just was but now out of sight. The library was not even half full, and no one was looking at you both closely, but the secrecy of his touch and its closeness to your inner thigh made you feel fuzzy.

If previously you couldn’t focus, you had no hope now. He holds your attention firmly, all you can think of is him, his hand, his fingers, his-

His hand slides further to your inner thigh. You freeze. You steal another glance at his face but this time he catches you; your eyes meet.

“Viktor, I- “you manage to murmur.

“Miss (Y/N), this is a quiet space, please, focus.”

As he holds your gaze, the corners of his mouth raised, he slides his hand further forward, holding it firmly at the seat of your trousers, pressing and nudging at the sensitivity there. Your mouth drops open slightly and he notices, chuckling lightly and turning back to his work. He props his head up on his other hand, rubbing his chin in faux concentration. He shuffles closer to you, changing his angle as he rubs and grinds his fingers into you.

You watch others pass by the entrance of the alcove, some smiling in recognition at you, some your friends from previous research projects. Thankfully no one stops to talk. Maybe it is Viktor’s presence that makes you unapproachable, he could be quite intimidating. You shuddered at the thought of how you looked together, sharing a blanket with his arm dangerously close to you, it appeared innocent but was so indecent.

Viktor's hand moved from you and snaked up your hip to push its way down into your trousers. He flattens and slides under the hem of your underwear, lying flat against the front of you. You try to remain calm and hide your squirming, but inevitably, your hips begin to grind on their own. They slowly lower, pushing up against the middles of his fingers, before raising up, pushing your clit desperately against the tips. This repeats for a few long slow grinds, however on the last, as your hips raise, his fingertips flick forward against you, making you jolt in your chair and elicit a sharp though quiet moan.

“Careful now, you don’t want people to see what I’m doing to you, do you?” He purred.

He moves his other hand from his chin to the desk, laying it flat before lifting it again to raise a paper closer to his face, reading intently. His middle finger slides between your folds, dipping itself into the wetness. You stifle yourself. He pushes his middle finger inside gently, making you take the full length of it slowly.

You stammer, “Viktor- “.

At the sound of his name, he inserts another finger.

“Viktor!”

You both look up. Jayce stands by the entrance of the library floor holding up a folder. Viktor's fingers do not cease, slipping in and out of you deliberately. Jayce quickly approaches your table, throwing down his things on the table in front of you.

“I finally found the blueprints you were looking for this morning, I thought I’d bring them by you.”

Jayce smiles at you warmly, you are both acquainted after being on a work trip together, he quickly makes small talk and relates that it is nice to see you and Viktor together.

“I thought I would have to introduce you to each other, you seem so well suited!” Jayce beams.

Viktor slides in a third finger, looking toward Jayce to give thanks for the folder.

“Ah! Very helpful, thank you. Miss (Y/N) here is helping me look through the documents. It’s somewhat of a study date.” Viktor chimes.

Your core is as tightened as you can make it, focusing completely on not showing anything more than the light blush which is already painting your cheeks. You knew Viktor was collected but how is he so calm right now? Jayce makes a further comment about the two of you together before turning and exiting by the stairs. The speed increases, Viktor’s fingers getting messier and sliding more easily between the folds, holding you open and hungry. He slides his fingers up to your clit, circling and flicking at the heat there.

“The way you are handling this is incredible (Y/N). So composed, so beautiful when I’m inside of you.”

Your grinding is less controlled now and Viktor’s hand is fully wet, your underwear clinging damply to the back of his hand.

“Do you think that if I did this? - “Viktor adds pressure to your clit, you feel the rising feeling of your orgasm building. “-again and again, I could ruin you in the library?”

His growled words were sending you over the edge.

“Viktor, I’m going to- “. Your hips were rapidly meeting his hands. Viktor increases his rhythm on the downward motion, he begins to curl his fingers up, sliding against the hot tight core inside you. As he repeatedly met it with his fingers, you felt your wetness drip and pool in the base of his palm.

“You sound so sweet like this, coming over my fingers in the library where anyone could see. I had no idea you were so dirty Miss (Y/N)’”

His fingers are hitting all the right places, and the building pressure is rising to a blinding white light. Your hips seem to freeze in motion, and he takes full advantage, pushing and grinding you over the edge. Your hands grip around his forearm and he revels in your stifled moans as you come over his fingers. He lightly chuckles, burying his face into your neck to whisper in your ear.

“I have work to attend to in the lab if you could be of assistance?”

#viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #viktor smut #viktor x you #viktor x reader #arcane

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soulprompts · 23 days ago

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" WILL THEY, WON'T THEY? " A LIST OF PROMPTS:

first off, mega massive thanks to my lovely and brilliant friend @whatspoilers for the EXCELLENT title!! hi my loves! so this is a list of scenarios in which the receiver has an opportunity to look at the sender in a different light, resulting in... something. a kiss? a punch? a declaration? a confession? i know you guys, i know how spicy your brains are, so spice away! i do want to stress that the outcome of the "feelings" does NOT necessarily need to be a romantic one. it could be anger, it could be a sudden revelation, a betrayal, a heartbreaking plot twist, whatever you want! i insist on making this very clear: if you send this, there is NO expectation of the receiver to make it romantic UNLESS they want to. likewise, if the feelings ARE romantic, it's not force-shipping, this is just the receiver's muse getting a minute to evaluate their relationship with the sender and how they want it to continue! and ofc DO NOT ADD TO OR EDIT THIS LIST!

[ DANCE ]: while the sender and receiver are slow dancing together, their close proximity and the intimacy of the situation causes feelings to rise to the surface.

[ BED ]: while the sender is sleeping beside them, the receiver has a moment to watch them and consider their own feelings, resulting in clarity and a realization.

[ CONSTELLATION ]: as the pair lie down in a field and watch the stars overhead, the receiver turns to watch the sender gazing skywards, leading to them confronting their own feelings.

[ NURSE ]: after a battle gone wrong, the receiver begins to tend to the sender's wounds, fading adrenaline and rising fear causing them to realize their feelings.

[ OBSERVATION ]: when showing the sender something they've been working on, the receiver can't help but address their feelings as the sender gazes in wonder at their work.

[ ENTRANCED ]: while the sender works on something they're passionate about, the receiver has a chance to look at them properly and consider their own feelings for them.

[ DEFENCE ]: when the sender rushes to defend the receiver against a threat of any description, the receiver takes a moment to consider how they feel about the sender.

[ COLLABORATION ]: as they work together on a project, the receiver has a moment in which they contemplate their true feelings regarding the sender.

[ CONFLICT ]: during an argument with the sender, the receiver realizes there's an unspoken depth to their feelings, and takes a second to consider them closer.

[ DEFIANCE ]: after realizing there's a situation which could threaten one of their lives in order to protect a larger group, the receiver and sender have a fierce argument in private, leading to a realization of their real feelings.

[ TRAINING ]: during a sparring session, the sender and receiver end up on the floor, leading one of them to seizing the upper hand and straddling the other. the receiver has an unexpected realization of their feelings regarding their sparring partner in the process.

[ FAMILY ]: watching the sender interacting fondly with others, the receiver (from afar) takes a moment to take a closer look at their relationship.

[ STORM ]: when the two of them get caught outside in a rainstorm, the receiver uses an umbrella/jacket as a shelter, which the sender shares with them, causing the receiver to be confronted with the truth of their relationship with the sender.

#roleplay meme #rp meme #sentence starters #writing prompts #ask meme #roleplay prompts #rp prompt #( man these weren't even in the list i made-- )

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zyafics · 7 months ago

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i love love love your writing<3

rq: rafe had came up to tanneyhill's balcony for some peace at his own party. though he didn’t expect reader to be there, looking utterly lost. he knows reader is new. seen you before, too, hanging out with sarah’s crowd; under a pogue’s arm whenever they see him around, telling you rafe isn't anything worth talking, or interacting with.

first off, i am so sorry it took me so long to get this done (as with a lot of my requests) but thank you so much for enjoying my writing!! 🩷 i hope i do this prompt justice (literally shaking in my boots as i post this 😭)

ANGRY GOD | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — S2!Rafe Cameron x (F)Reader

Content — fluff, angst, Rafe spiraling (S2 Canons), Enemies Tension, Rafe growing possessive of Reader.

Word Count — 3.2K.

Dedication — to @mintforadollar who listened to me rant about this plot a month ago, only for it to now be completed <3. Prompt credited to this on c.ai!

Rafe wants to be alone.

His mind is caught in a tailspin, muscles singing with ache from his latest altercation. It didn't help that the fucker managed to get some good swings in, ripples of pain spread from his jawline to his left eye. When he enters the second floor of Tannyhill, all he wants is to catch a breath of fresh air away from the party. His party.

He didn't expect to see you.

"Out." Rafe commands gruffly. You flinch at his abrupt command. "Second floor is off-limits."

He adds nothing else as he marches over to the edge of the balcony, digging his scraped palms into the smooth ridges of the handrails. He didn't want anyone here to witness the brunt of his frustration and disappointment, or how his mind swims with disoriented and incoherent thoughts. He wants to be alone.

But you won't let him.

Cautiously, you take a step forward—not in the direction of the exit, as he hoped—but towards Rafe instead. Lifting his head at the sound of your faint footsteps, agitation flushing through his expression at your proximity. "Didn't I tell you to get out?"

"You got into a fight." You mumble your observation, examining his hardened profile to discover the bruise that decorates his jawline, swelling with discoloration, the darkening under his left eye, and the split of open skin right above his brow.

He scoffs. "No shit."

"And you're bleeding."

He is? He didn't know that. All consumed by the adrenaline rushing through his system—that has yet to wind down—Rafe lifts his hand to run his fingers over the most prominent aches around his face. When he presses against something wet, he withdraws, finding a fresh coat of blood over his fingertips.

Rafe grimaces at the sight—not the blood, he's used to that—but the fact that his opponent succeeded in cutting him too.

Now, he definitely doesn't want you here. Before Rafe has the chance to kick you out the third time, you offer assistance. "I can help," you say meekly, messing with the hems of your top.

He didn't catch it over the loud thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. "What?"

"I can help," you repeat, louder this time, wincing at the projection of your own voice. You don't like the strain in your tone, the desperation seeping through. You'd do anything to avoid returning to the party. "I know how to patch up wounds. I'm training to be an EMT."

"I didn't ask for a life story." He snaps, a mechanical response to any aid. The idea of someone taking care of him is unheard of; unfamiliar and uncomfortable. He doesn't know how to react other than complete and utter rejection. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

Rafe assumes his harsh words would drive you away. The bite behind each syllable has been enough to scare off everyone else but you remain firm in your position. If anything, your expression softens, eyes washing over his rigid posture with a sympathetic look. He hates it.

"I know," you start slowly, eyes cascading down his face, carefully monitoring his reaction. "But... wouldn't it be nice if you didn't have to?"

His expression breaks.

Your kindness strikes directly to his chest and his heart clutches at the way you address him. With humanity. Even when he's been nothing but a complete asshole to you, demanding your departure, you respond with a sense of warmth. Rafe clenches down his jaw.

When he doesn't answer quickly enough, a sign of his contemplation, you add. "Please."

Reluctantly, Rafe gives in. "Fine."

Rafe moves from the balcony deck to reenter Tannyhill, not bothering to check if you're following behind. He heads straight to the ensuite connected to his bedroom, checking under the sink for his first aid kit, before throwing the box over the counter.

That's when he catches a glimpse of himself through the mirror, the ugly bruising that lines his face, the dried blood that stains his temple. His jaw tightens at the sight.

You enter shortly after, seeing him with his back to the mirror, his spine pressed against the rim of the porcelain sink. Your eyes do a quick sweep of your surroundings, before landing on Rafe and his rigid form, arms crossed over his chest, and a cold look on his face. He just wants to get this over with.

You glance outside, to his room, with its openness, before meeting his gaze. "Can we go to your bed?"

His answer is immediate. "No."

You frown but ask nothing more. Rafe's trying to make this difficult for you, refusing to cooperate because it's easier than submitting to your grace. Easier than admitting he'd like the help. You work around that.

Grabbing the antiseptics from the kit, you proceed to clean his wounds, softly massaging his flesh in the process. For a moment, it feels too good and Rafe fights the urge to lean into your hand before a sharp pain rips through him from the open cut and he hisses.

You immediately pull back, mumbling a quick apology.

His eyes squeeze shut, it takes a moment for the throb to cool down, and once it does, Rafe reconnects his gaze with yours to find the remorseful look behind your stare, the softening of your features met with utmost concern. You don't make another move to try again.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." He bites out, wanting to rid you of that look. He's not weak. Stop looking at him as if he is. Despite the reassurance, you have yet to continue. "You're not going to be a good doctor if you shy away every time your patient gets hurt."

"I feel bad." You admit, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Why? You didn't do this."

He's the one who got into the fight. The one who swung first. While he may have won in the end, having knocked out the guy in the middle of the yard, it doesn't neglect the damage done to him in the process. But, at the end of the day, it's his fault.

You don't see it that way. "Because you're hurting."

You're too soft. That's what Rafe determines. Every little moment, little sprouts of empathy, every inch of sensitivity, is going to hurt you in the end. It won't save anything.

"I don't need your pity," Rafe snaps, giving you the first taste of reality under his razor-sharp tongue. He could be considerate, and understanding, but he isn't. That's how he learned.

"It's not—" You sigh. You don't want to argue and relent against his jabs. Without further commentary, you continue forward with your duties: aiding in his treatment and biting through the humane urge to sympathize with his pain.

Rafe takes the silence to observe you while you work. He knows you grew quiet because of his rough manners, and he won't lie to himself and say he enjoys it. He doesn't. But it adds to the list of everything else he has done wrong in his life; his long string of failures that his father can't wait to remind him of.

In the quietness, Rafe recognizes something about you. It takes a moment, after all the aches and throbs, but the recognition dawns on him that you're new. You hang out with his sister, Sarah, and the rest of the filthy group of no-good Pogues on the other side of the island. There have even been occasions when he saw you under JJ's arm, slinging around red solo cups and a grim soak of southside.

"Where's your friends?" Rafe asks, surprising you with the roughness behind his voice.

You lift your gaze to his. "Hmm?"

"The Pogues. Don't you hang out with them?"

You swallow hard, feeling like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You hoped your newcomer status would be enough to shield yourself from Rafe's wraith, especially his hatred towards your selected group. "Why?"

Rafe immediately picks up on the shift in your demeanor, the rigidness in your shoulders that tells him exactly what he needs to know. "You've heard about me, haven't you?"

You hesitate to answer. Rafe presses on. "What'd they say?"

Your friends have told you many warnings about the notorious Rafe Cameron. It all comes down to one conclusion: he's dangerous. He's irrational, self-centered, and narcissistic. He isn't worth talking to because all he cares about is himself.

However, you like to find out for yourself.

Rafe leans forward, lowering himself to meet your height and his face is right in front of yours. An arrogant smirk rises to his lips, a challenge for you to answer. "Come on, princess, don't tell you came up here without doing a bit of research beforehand."

You recognize this as a facade, a way for him to hide his true feelings because it's easier to disturb others. To mess with people and not reflect on your own. You place a hand against the solid of his chest and gently push him back, forcing him to reinstate the safe distance established before. You continue back to your line of work.

Your little push surprises Rafe. It also intrigues him too.

"They said you weren't worth talking to," you say softly, avoiding eye contact as he follows your every move. "That you're dangerous."

He scoffs at the reveal, but it pinches his heart that his own sister would agree. He values her opinion more than he'd like to admit. Drawing out a noncommital shrug, pretending not to care, he declares. "They're right."

You hum. "Maybe."

He looks directly at you with a raised brow. "Maybe?"

Your eyes finally connect with his, "I'm still figuring that out." You pull back, setting the supplies back into his aid box. "Done."

You're about to take a step back when Rafe grabs your wrist, holding you in place. Your breath shortens, and you peer down at the place of your contact before raising your gaze to his.

"What do you mean by that?" He demands, his expression hardens but his eyes are pleading. That juxtaposition, between who he is and what he wants, is the exact thing you're trying to uncover.

You aren't afraid of him. Not like the others.

"I don't know," you answer truthfully, sweeping over his face, reading the conflict his features can't seem to contain. Rafe, you're slowly unraveling, is someone who puts his heart on his sleeves. He just hasn't had anyone who cares enough to look for it. "I just don't know if I truly believe that."

"Why not? The rest of the island does."

It's almost a spiral. An edge closer to it. You think it's because Rafe finally has someone who looks past his mask, his deception that the rest of the island gladly takes. They're afraid of him; he engineered that reputation by hand. But you've met your fair share of burnt souls to know they're all worth saving.

You answer him.

"Your eyes." You explain gently. "They say it's the windows to someone's soul."

"And?"

"And, Rafe Cameron, you're someone who isn't as heartless as you'd like the rest of the world to believe."

His grip loosens from your words and you take the opportunity to slip out of his grasp and settle your arms by your side. Rafe watches as you offer him a soft smile, one that reaches your eyes, and you're about to return to the balcony deck for some peace when he follows you into his bedroom.

"That's not fair." He denounces, halting your exit.

You turn around to face him. "What is?"

"You can't come in here and make those assumptions. You don't know shit about my life."

Rafe doesn't like to be read so clearly; to know that whatever he's trying to front isn't deluding you. For some reason, he needs to convince you that every rumor and gossip is true. That he is bad. The idea of it is embedded so deeply into the crevices of his self-worth, that he's having a hard time believing anything else.

Rafe expects your reaction to meet his fury, but the slope of your brows furrow together calmly. A delicate practice over years of training. "I never said I did."

"You're acting like you do."

You frown. "Now you're making assumptions about me," you refute, pointing out his hypocrisy, and a tinge of sharpness slips through. "You asked and I answered. You can't be mad because you don't like them."

"Then why?" He snaps, irritation spewing with his venom. "Who the fuck are you to make that judgment?"

"I thought you didn't want to hear my life story."

He huffs. Rafe finds himself at a crossroads. While you're standing there, with your collected composure, he feels like he's unraveling by the seams. There's something about you. The way you read through him like glass. He doesn't know if he likes it or not. If he needs it or not.

"Bitch," he mutters under his breath at your lack of compliance, and your breath hitches at the term, a flash of anger goes through you like a surge. He recognized that look; it was something he was all too familiar with.

You turn around, about to sprint for the exit once again when Rafe calls out. "Wait."

You don't want to turn around this time. Rafe had managed to make you break through your own facade, your own composure that you spent years trying to cultivate. Something about being in the same room as the eldest Cameron makes you regress into your formative years.

"Turn around."

Your jaw is slighted, but you try to hold it together. You loosen your features before you turn on your heel. You still don't think Rafe is the person he's trying to present to the world, and you doubt that he truly carries that much cruelty in one body, but that doesn't mean you have to be in the same room as him.

But something made you stay.

Rafe crosses the large space, standing just in front of you. His breath is hot against yours, his eyes sharp. You tilt your head, meeting his stare, but to contrast his intensity, your gaze is soft yet firm, your eyes unwavering. Just because you are kinder than he is doesn't mean you are weak.

"You know what it's like, don't you?" He murmurs gruffly, his voice straining at the exposure. This questioning also carries the weight of admission underneath; to bridge a kinship. "Or are you a liar?"

You're not. But no one's ever asked the questions Rafe is asking either. Not your friends back home or the new ones with the Pogues. They treasure your friendship but they don't understand your depth.

"No."

"No, what?"

"I'm not a liar," you bite out. Rafe's mouth curls into a satisfactory smile, and he gets a glimpse of your real character. The true you underneath all that dignity. It's like his own dirty secret. "I know."

You saw through Rafe because you understood him. You shared the same sentiments. You groomed the same callousness. Every act he performs, you went through first. You can't point at his reflection without looking at the mirror yourself.

But you're a bit different. You learn to control it. You discovered that all that anger was something else. Hurt, pain, injustice. You take it all and put it in a box, caged behind thick chains and hard locks. Never to be touched again. Rafe takes it out to the open, free to play. You may come from the same origin but you take two different routes.

However, Rafe sees you much clearer now. To know you can understand him, see through his perspective, and filter out his incoherent thoughts. That's something he'd never experienced before in his life.

"The voices, anger, and impulses?" His voice shrinks, eyes searching yours. You hesitate before nodding once. "You get that too?"

It comes out when you're most hurt. "I do."

He feels like can breathe for once, to not feel completely isolated from the rest of the world. Rafe always feels off, like something is wrong with him. Nothing can be explained; nothing is allowed to be explored. Even when he sought therapy, his father denied his request. He thought he‘d be forever alone in all this.

He steps forward, closing in the distance until there's only an inch of space separating you. But even that feels too big. Oxygen stuck in your throat, Rafe connects his gaze with yours to whisper. "You're like me, aren't you?"

You swallow hard. You didn't realize understanding someone could be a reflection of your own damning soul. You don't know if it's a good thing. "Yes."

His pupils are dilated and nearly pitch-black. His breathing shortens, and his gaze pools with desire. You feel it too. Your heart accelerates beneath your ribcage, your stomach knotting with want. When Rafe leans forward, about to capture your lips on his, you ready yourself to let it all in.

But you're a bit different.

You turn your head away at the last second, his contact coming to your cheek.

"I'm..." You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. "I'm with JJ."

The world stills on its axis, and you feel the gravity of it beneath your feet. You slowly peel your eyes open, only to find Rafe having pulled back, his hand, midway through the air to hold your chin, closes into a tight fist.

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes swimming with regret.

The look on his face is heartbreaking because you know him in parallel, you know what he's feeling. You take a step back, for your sanity or his, it’s unclear. All you know is the distance was safe. Until it wasn't.

"I should go." You whisper.

Rafe says nothing as you pad your way across his room, slipping out of the door. He remains motionless in the same spot, his jaw set, his fists clenched by his side. The adrenaline pulses return through his veins.

Fuck.

It takes a minute to gather himself. Hearing nothing but the throbbing bass beneath him, pulsing through the floor. His heart is wretched, his stomach full of nausea.

Rafe returns to the balcony to pull away from his room, the place where you had been, and he steps closer to the ledge. Everything in his mind is too quiet; sterile and white-screeching. He doesn't know how to fathom this change.

His blue eyes search across the lawn and he easily picks you out of the crowd. He knows you well now. Those brief, fleeting moments attached to his soul are permanent memories.

You rejoined the party with Sarah and the rest of the Pogues, while JJ saunters over and throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close and whispering something in your ear. You smile and laugh, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

When you look up, you find Rafe already watching. His eyes are set on yours, unmoving, and the intimacy of his gaze strikes something deep. You had to turn away to preserve yourself.

Rafe slowly comes to his understanding on his own. He never had someone who understood him, much less in such a short time. You unravel him behind gentle stares and quiet observations. You knew him because you knew yourself, and he doesn't want to lose that. He doesn't want to lose you. He can’t.

So, he decided.

You weren't his.

But he's taking you anyways.

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