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misettemisette · 3 days ago

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Chapter 10 ➺ A place for words

Starting over In Madrid

Summary: After moving to Madrid as Real Madrid's new photographer, Nicky can’t seem to take her eyes off the pretty face Misa Rodríguez. But how will she handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her contract strictly forbids dating players? WC: 5,5K words TW: none PS: French writer Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clásico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and Peaks Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique Chapter 7 ➺ In the Haze Chapter 8 ➺ Confusion and directions Chapter 9 ➺ The same struggle

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I snapped a picture of a group of elder people sitting together on a bench and chatting with energy. Misa had gone on international break. It was a hot, bright day in the Spanish capital, and I was walking Angela through the fancy neighborhood of Palacio.

“This is so great, Angie!" I cheered. “Ana said I’ll be directing the photo and filming team. She’s going to hire two assistants and she want me to work with the set designer team! She said I really got the Real Madrid identity. It’s my ability to think of the club’s visual communication globally that really made me stand out.“

“Of course you stood out!“, Angela winked as we stepped onto the Calle de Baillen bridge.

I stopped again to photograph the streets below. Unfortunately, they were deserted. Predictable. It was four o’clock, mid-July, the perfect time for an afternoon nap.

“Did I mention that my pay will be better too?” I added with excitement as we resumed our walk.

“Only a dozen times!“ Angela teased.

“Er, sorry! It’s just, I have never been that excited about work. I feel I’ll never get tired of it! It’s fun and creative, and I really get along with everybody!“ I exclaimed but my smile disappeared a second later.

“But you don’t know what to do about Misa…” Angela went straight to the point.

“Yeah…” I sighed “I can’t quit! But I don’t want Misa to be unhappy!”

We reached the other side of the bridge.

“Do you think she’s feeling that bad?” My friend asked.

“I don’t know. I won’t lie to you, it’s hard for me as well. Every day at work, I feel like a child trying not to get caught. When we go out, we’re always double-checking our surroundings and we prefer not to get too close. In the end, the only quality time we have together is at home. But that’s okey, I mean, that’s not the problem…“

Angela grabbed my arm gently and led me to a small, shady square. “Come on, let’s sit. What is the problem Nicky?“ She sensed I needed to talk.

“It’s just… how am I supposed to tell her I love her when I have nothing serious to offer her? Working at Real Madrid, Misa and I will never be real girlfriends!“

Angela put her hand on my thigh. “You know, that is exactly what I feared when you told me about your feelings. Hooking up is one thing, but falling in love is another… I feared it would make you sad not be allowed to be with her, and it’s happening…“ She sighed too and continued. “I thought a lot about what to tell you if we ended up talking about it. I know you, Nicky. I know how impatient and stressed out you can be. So, here is my advise: be patient, don’t rush. Enjoy your time together even if it’s in secret. If your relationship lasts, I think you’ll both know in a few months what to do.” Angela patted me.

I sighed again, tired about the complexity of the situation. “What if I don’t have time? I’m pretty sure Léa, our new goalkeeper, has a crush on Misa.“

Angela giggled lightly “You are already jealous and protective, that girl really has you falling deep! Did you tell Misa about Léa?”

I blushed. “I did… and she said it was nothing… and that she wanted… me” I melted at the memory of her brown gaze, so tender, when she had said those words.

“That’s so cute of her! Relax Nicky! Misa’s feeling good with you! Although, I think you should talk to her openly. She did her part by saying that, now it’s up to you. You have more to lose than she does, so she probably needs to be reassured that you really want to be with her.”

“I really want to be with her…“ I repeated, my eyes prickling. "This is so unfair! We’re not doing anything wrong!”

“I know, Sweetie. Talk to her. Be honest about what you want.“

Unsure of myself, I’d always been bad at doing the taking. But my friend had made a point, Misa was in much more uncertainty than I was. My heart tightened at the thought of the young goalie silently waiting for me to express my feelings, dreading week after week I would finally chose my job over her…

“You’re right, Angie. I’ll make it up to her.”

***

When Angela went home the next day, I felt sad and lonely but fueled by a new determination. I was not going to leave fate decide whether or not I’d succeed in telling Misa my feelings anymore. No, I was going to plan our reunion day with care and I was going to make it happen.

Back in the Cuidad, I had less work, and, I had to admit, less fun without Misa and Hayley. Both of them were away with their national teams, and I would have became bored without my besties if planning my love declaration didn’t take all my time and energy. Day and night, my love-sick brain kept going back to Misa. I wanted us to be somewhere quiet yet lively, somewhere beautiful.

To find the perfect place, I had the idea to contact Sofie’s friend, Carmen. We met a few days later. Swen took us on a tour of the fancy galleries in the center of Madrid and we ended up in one of Carmen’s cutest spot: a hidden rooftop bar in the La Latina neighborhood. Large sofas and fabric screens divided the vast terrace into comfy, trendy spaces. Cocktails were delicious, and they even played a few songs I knew Misa liked. I had no trouble imagining a romantic evening here with the pretty brunette.

My mind raced on its own. First, we would meet in a park to enjoy the weather and do some nature photography. Then we could grab a coffee, where I would tell her I wanted to take her to a surprise place. She would be curious as hell, drowning me with questions all the way there. I was sure she would fall for the place at first sight. After that, sharing a Piña Colada or a strawberry Mojito, I would confess that I’d fallen in love with her.

That was perfect!

***

“Hello Misa!“

“Hola, cariño!“

Hearing her voice on the phone was warmer than the hot summer wind of Madrid. I rolled over in bed, instinctively searching for her hard, reassuring body, and grasped a pillow instead. God, how much I missed her!

The footballer and I had texted a lot, telling each other about our day or just sharing sweet words. I had watched both of Spain’s matches on TV, Misa spending them on the bench as she had foreseen. Fortunately, the team won both games, which lifted her spirits. She told me about the nonsense she got up to with her close friends Jenni, Alexia and Laia in the locker room. On another evening, it was about a really pushing training session she had handled well, the next day, she sent me a cute video of her dancing in front of the mirror. Each message overflowed with her unique mix of passion and humor, and I started acting cheesy, watching our selfies together before sleeping every night.

Tonight was the first time we called during the international break. The goalkeeper wasn’t in a room by herself. She had managed to escape an evening watching a TV show with Alexia and Laia slipping outside to have some privacy.

“Cómo estás?“ The goalie asked joyfully.

“Estoy bien. He visto a la amiga de Sofie la semana pasada! See, I’m learning Spanish!“ I giggled.

“Pero bueno, mi Nicky! Qué hiciste con ella?“

“What did we do? Hum, estábamos… en la ciudad…y… No sé, I’m sorry. I think I need private lessons with a qualified teacher.”

“Jaja, I’m already your football teacher, I can’t be your Spanish teacher as well!“ Misa laughed.

I squeezed the pillow tighter. “I want no other teacher than you.”

“Vale, I’ll—“ But her voice was drowned by a sudden burst of noise.

People were shouting and laughing wildly, their voices mixing with the sound of erratic footsteps on gravel. I straightened in bed at once.

“Misa?!“ I called out, panicking she might be in trouble.

“Hola, hola!“ a new, energetic female voice rang out. “Es Nicky, vale?“

I answered awkwardly, “Er… who—?“

“Don’t worry, chica, it’s Jenni. You know, I’m Misa’s friend!“

I exhaled, relieved but also a bit puzzled. I hadn’t known Misa had told her friends about me.

“Joder Jenni! Dame mi móvil! No es divertido!“ I heard Misa’s voice in the background. “Déjame!“

“Sujetadla bien! Solo tardo un minuto!” Jenni shout at someone. Then she said back to the phone, “So, Nicky, I’m glad to finally talk to you. Misa wouldn’t let us, so we had to find a way.”

Her soft tone contrasted with the angry voices still echoing in the background.

“Misa, No eres la única malota!“ “Ni la más fuerte!“ “Por cierto, tenéis que ser tres para sujetarme!“

“Er, okay… and why did you want to talk to me.“ I asked Jenni, feeling more and more confusing to me.

“Relax Chica! No pasa nada! First of all, thanks for putting up with Misa. Not many people has the patience and dedication she requires.“ Jenni said.

I chuckled lightly, sensing there was no harm in talking to her.

“And secondly, you have to come on holidays with us in August! I’ve been pushing Misa to invite you for days but she’s too shy to ask you herself.“

“Oh!“ I bite my lip, this was all too cute to handle.

“You don’t need to answer now, Nicky. Just let Misa know when you’ve made up your mind! I’m giving the phone back to her. Hasta pronto, niña!“

A new wave of indistinct noises crackled through the phone until the rasping breath of the goalie filled my ear.

“I…will…kill…them…for…this!“ Misa panted.

I couldn’t stop myself from bursting into laughter, imagining the young brunette crimson with shame, sulking dramatically.

“Pfff, even you are making fun of me now…“

“I’m not making fun of you!“ I said, letting myself fall back onto the bed. “But I would pay to see your face right now! You must be so cute! Fuck, I miss you!“ I blurted out. Instantly, my cheeks grew hot.

“Ay! I… miss you too“. She said, her tone softening.

I stared at the ceiling for a second, smiling stupidly while I tired to gather my thoughts.

“The answer’s yes, Mis’. If the invite still stands…?” I added, closing my eyes and waiting for her reaction.

“Are you serious?!“ The goalie exclaimed.

“Pretty serious, your friends seem fun and wild! Annnnnd I think I’d like to go on vacation with you.“ My face burned even hotter.

“Guau, I’m so happy!“ Misa replied. “We’re going to Formentera! The villa we’ll rent is so nice! I’ll send you pictures!“

I grabbed my pillow and fiddled with a corner, a broad smile not leaving my face.

“Please do! But I need to check if the flights are affordable. Traveling in summer can be pretty expensive.“

“You’re kidding, Nicky. You’re not going to pay anything, I’m inviting you!“

I bit my lip again. Misa really was one of the generous ones. “No, Misa, I can’t accept.“

“No way you’re paying. Don’t insist“

“I must Mis’, I would feel like I’m taking advantage of you…“

“Vale…” Misa exhaled heavily into the phone, and I thought I’d won, but then she quickly continued. “Can you accept… for me? To forgive me for not having invited you myself…”

“Oh“ I paused. Misa was a proud person. She wasn’t always keen to apology and she hated feeling like she had messed up. So, I knew how much it was costing her to say that. “Okay Honey, you win“ I surrendered.“ But in return, I’m taking you out the day you get back.“

“Deal. I’m landing at 3 PM, I just need to make a quick stop at home, and then I’m your woman.“

I crushed my pillow, grinning. How satisfying it was to hear Misa Rodríguez saying she was mine.

“Then, the rendezvous is at Parque del Retiro at 5’.

“Awesome!»

***

A few days later, A bright, beating sun soaked the alleys of the Parque del Retiro. The air was suffocating. July in Madrid was no joke and I was sweating like a beast in my tank top and short. The strap of my camera dug into my bare shoulder as I walked down the wide path, the shade of the trees making the heat just about bearable. I stopped in a smaller shadowy path, wiped the sweat from my forehead, gulped some water, and sent Misa my precise location.

Standing in my cooler spot, I spent the next few minutes peering impatiently down the alley. My feet were literally itching and my heart was drumming in my chest at the prospect of being reunited with Misa. Meeting her outside meant a lot. I had chosen the most famous park of Madrid as a symbol. Many lovers met here to share romantic moments in front of the lake. I hoped Misa would understand how much I wished we were a regular couple.

As soon as it appeared, I recognized the tall, sturdy silhouette from afar. Her walk was unmistakable. She stepped into a patch of sun, and I spotted her smiling face. She waved, did a small hop, and started to run toward me. My eyes stayed locked on her as she came closer and closer, until we flung ourselves into each other’s arms.

Her scent filled my lungs. The feel of our bodies pressed together was the best in the world. Her breathing mixed with the sound of the wind blowing gently through the leaves. We pulled apart, and locked eyes, no words needed. Misa’s gaze dropped to my mouth, hesitant, while I wasn’t — I crashed my lips against hers. My heart danced. My brain slowed down. Our passionate kissing went on and on.

Then Misa start to cover my mouth with little kisses, making me giggle like a teenager. Her kisses moved to my cheeks and then down to my neck.

“You smell like my shampoo” was the first thing she said.

Misa rolled her eyes and bowed theatrically in front of me. “Good afternoon, Lady Nicky,” she said, failing hilariously at a chic English accent, the rolled r in “afternoon” sounding very Spanish.

“You may rise Gentlewoman!” I responded. She looked up to me playfully and I shyly added. “I may have bought your shampoo while you were away…”

Misa looked touched, her mouth forming the pout I loved.

“You missed me that much?”

“Maybe” I blushed, embarrassed. “Come on, we have a nature photography course waiting!” I said, changing the subject and leading my giggling Misa to a more flourishing part of the park.

I spotted a nice lawn where a few birds were pecking at the remains of a cake.

“This is perfect. We’ll go quietly so we don’t scare them away.” I took out my camera, and slipped the strap over the brunette’s head. “I’ve already done the presets: shutter speed is medium because there’s plenty of lights, though it’s getting cloudy…” I glanced at the sky. The blue was barely visible behind a sheer layer of white clouds.

“Maybe heat will drop.” Misa said hopefully, frowning as she looked up at the dazzling white sky. Then she glanced back to the camera in her hands. “So, do I need to change the presets?”

“If there’s less light, you have to …?” I tested her photography knowledge.

“Lower the speed? No… increase the speed… !” She said, glancing at me unsurely.

Misa was focusing for once, and it made my heart melt.

“Yes, increase the speed, because if the shutter speed is too slow, your photo is going to be…?

“Blurry?” Her brows were half-frowned, half-raised as she watched me expectantly to see if she was right.

“Well done, María Isabel!”

“Yes!” Misa did a little victory jig. “I’ll try to take a photo of that pigeon over there.”

She advanced and crouched carefully. I watched her put the camera in front of her face, concentrating as she turned the lens to zoom in. The pigeon was still searching the grass for crumbs when a crow landed smoothly, making the other birds fly away. The sound of the shutter kept clicking restlessly.

Misa came back to me, looking at the camera screen eagerly. “Mira Nicky! look!“

I glanced at a nice shot of the flying crow, its wings spread wide and its beak open. She scrolled back, showing me the other photos.

“Well done Misa, this is good! The exposure is a bit strong, you should should close down the aperture, but good job on the focus, the crow’s sharp!”

“Gracias, Nicky!” she beamed, gratitude in her eyes mixing with something mischievous. “I’d like more color. Can you correct the presets for me, cari?”

Her ducky, demanding expression had me giving in at once. I took back the camera, focusing a moment on the screen to make the changes.

“Okay, I think you’ll like it better now…” I went to hand the camera back to Misa but the goalkeeper had disappeared.

“Misa?” I called, glancing around to see where she’d gone. “Misa it’s not funny! Where are you, what’s going on ?”

I stepped onto the grass. More people were scattered across the nearby lawns, making it harder to spot the missing goalie. I called her again, confused and wondering what new madness she was up to.

“¡Bu!” The goalie sprang at me from behind a large tree, making me nearly die of fright, and making her die of laughter.

“Fucking hell, Mis!” I shouted at her, clutching my camera as the goalie laughed out loud.

Still chuckling, Misa tried to take me in her arms, but I shoved her away, embarrassed to have been pranked so easily. She tried again and succeeded in wrapping me up in her arms. I struggled to break free, wrestling against her firm grip, trying to make her fall, but her strong feet stayed planted firmly on the ground.

After a moment of fighting, I decided she deserved a low blow. I put my camera safely back in its bag and then started to tickle her along her ribs. I reveled in my girlfriend’s surprised scream, and she instantly tried to back away. I took the chance to slam into her hard, the element of surprise allowing me to knock her off balance. We both landed on the grass, giggling madly.

Misa let me take her in my arms as I pulled her against me. I pecked her cheek. My lips grazed her skin, soft, warm, its smell intoxicating. The goalie clearly wasn’t complaining about being cuddled. At some point, she pulled out her phone and took a selfie of us, after which she exhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

How perfect this moment was. My arms were wrapped around her, my nose buried in her hair, the shade of the tree keeping us safe from the lowering hot sun. Everybody was chilling around us. Children played happily at some game a bit farther away. Even the birds were adding their melodious voice as a contribution to the lovely atmosphere.

“Nicky?“ Misa’s anxious voice pulled me out of my daydreaming. “Isn’t that your boss, Ana, over there?“

My heart leapt.

In the middle of the path, only a few feet from us, was Ana with her family: a tall bearded guy and a small blond boy on a kid’s bike.

I froze in fear. If Ana turned her head, I would be done for. We couldn’t even pretend to be friends enjoying a nice summer afternoon. Our intertwined bodies left little doubt about our relationship status.

“Cari, what should we do?“ Misa asked feebly. Obviously, she wasn’t daring to move an inch either.

The path curved slightly, where it would become almost impossible for Ana not to see us. I had to think of something, and quick!

“Roll over, and pretend to nap on the grass.“ I muttered as the family got closer.

Misa lifted herself off me and lay on her belly. An expert eye could tell it was her but, I would bet she could be recognized from afar.

I straightened up slowly, Ana still hadn’t looked at me. I took my courage in both hands and walked straight toward her.

“Hello Ana, I see we’re all enjoying this warm day at the park!“

Ana’s surprised face confirmed she hadn’t noticed us cuddling a moment before.

“Hola Nicky. Indeed! Here’s my husband Pedro and my son Mateo.”

“Nice to meet you.“ I greeted them as they both waved to me. “I’m practicing a bit, the colors are lovely today.“ I added, lifting my camera awkwardly.

“You’re right to do so…“ Ana replied, apparently wondering why I shared so much about my current activities. I had to end that strange conversation quickly.

“Yep, I’m going to the lake. Have a nice day!“

“We’re going to the lake too, Mateo loves it. Go ahead, we’ll follow you.“

Fuck! Just my luck!

“Er, sorry I was thinking of the small one at the south of the park.“ I tried, praying hard they wouldn’t change their mind and come with me.

“El gran lago, Mama! El gran lago!“ Mateo chimed in.

“Si, vamos al gran lago, mi niño. Sorry Nicky, we’ll leave you there. Good day to you.“

“No problem, good day Ana. Bye“

And they went ahead, when I headed in the opposite direction.

As soon as I had turned a corner, I stopped, and sighed with relief. My heart was pounding like crazy. How close it had been again! The whole situation had been pretty awkward, leaving me shaking like a leaf.

A leaf that was caught by strong hands a minute later.

“They’re gone toward the main path. There is no danger left, Cari.“

I faced her, still trembling. If the danger was gone, why was she looking at me so anxiously? Was she afraid I would dismiss her for almost getting me fired? A strong gust of wind made her hair dance around her head and I moved the strands away from her face. That is not going to happen Mis’. In one hour, two at the most, you’ll know how you make me feel, I thought, wanting nothing more than to make the glint of worry leave her eyes.

A loud rumble of thunder erupted from the sky and big raindrops began to fall suddenly.

“Ay no! Mierda!” The goalie exclaimed.

“Fuck!“ I peered at the sky, which had turned an ominous dark gray.

More rain began to fall and Misa took my arm. “Come on, I know a place where we can shelter!“

Drops were pouring hard now. We were running along with the masses of people hurrying through the alleys. We reached a crossroad and Misa turned left. Then, she took a narrow deserted path. Even the denser vegetation wasn’t enough to shield us from the pounding rain.

“Alli!” she shouted as we reached a new crossroad. Her hand grasped back mine firmly, and she led me toward a really tiny kiosk. We rushed inside the small but protected space.

Drenched to the bones, we shivered in spite of the still-relative heat. We stayed there a moment, watching the unceasing pounding rain turn the dusty earth pathways into pools of mud. My romantic plan was falling apart too. We could stay inside the bar… the décor was less cute, but we would at least enjoy a good cocktail together, provided we got dry first…

“Madre mía! We’re at the park on the only stormy day in Madrid!”

“It’s really bad luck…” I responded, feeling down. I watched Misa’s sturdy silhouette outlined against the rainy horizon. My mood brightened. Nothing could really go wrong as long as I was with her.

Feeling playful again, I slowly approached the brunette from behind, and nudged her waist with a scream to scare the hell out of her.

“Ahhh! No, Nicky!” Misa fled from my outstretched, tickle-ready hands. I pursued her inside the minuscule kiosk, tears of laughter in my eyes at the sight of her panicked expression. “Noooo! Déjame!”

“You seem cold! I just want to warm you!” I joked as I ran after her. I didn’t know Misa was so ticklish and it was really fun to finally have a way to be physically threatening to her.

Eventually, she climbed onto the low wall circling the kiosk, arms outstretched in front of her to protect herself from my assaults. “Nicky! Cari! No! Porfi!” she begged with a panicked laugh.

“Okay! I think you’re warm enough! I’ll stop,” I giggled. “You can climb down, I won’t tickle you”.

Misa looked at me doubtfully.

I held out my hands to show her my good intentions and to help her go down “Sweetie, I promise you I won’t”

A strong gust of wind swept the tiny space, and the goalie shivered again. Finally, she trusted my offered hands to help her down. Yet, she was on her guard when she landed in front of me.

The rain was still falling madly all around us. The inclined wind had soaked half the shelter, and we were staying in the only dry space left. The storm wasn’t slowing down, and the prospect of going to the trendy rooftop bar felt impossible.

Misa’s hands were in mine, soft and relaxed now that she’d understood I wasn’t going to trick her. My fingers gently brushed hers. My glance came back to her face, framed by her long wet and wavy hair, her smirk brightening the moody weather. I took in her soft look, her eyelashes and brows where a few drops had clung, the ones pounding on the roof a tuneless, soothing music.

I felt aligned with everything.

It wasn’t going to happen as I expected, but I didn’t care. A few things hadn’t happened as planned since I came to Madrid, and I wasn’t complaining about them. Therefore, I was contemplating the beautiful person in front of me, the one who had unexpectedly come into my life, when my lips parted to speak the words.

“I love you.”

My heart clung to her brown eyes opening wide, her brows going up with a smile of surprise.

She shut her eyes and I felt the grip of her hands tighten as she exhaled. The goalie led her face closer and opened her eyes again, the gold ring on her nose glinted as she cocked her head to the side, the corners of her mouth twitching when she said:

“I love you too”.

My heart skipped a beat, or two or three, her big dark eyes losing themselves in mine, shiner than usual.

“Te quiero!” she repeated in her own tongue, and her hand fell on the nape of my neck, pulling me into the softest kiss we had shared yet. My eyes prickled as I clung to her lips, savoring the taste of her mouth, the smell of her breath, of her sweet and floral perfume melting into the musky scent of the rain. The feel of her body striving to hold me closer made me feel so desperately in love with her that it took me a moment to realize I was tugging hard at her wet T-shirt, as if I were afraid Misa and her love for me would vanish if I ever let her go.

The goalie’s lips left mine to kissed my forehead as she hugged me gently and I melted in her cute embraced, overwhelmed.

“I want to be with you,” I said my hands pressing her muscular back. “For real”.

Our bodies parted as we stared at each other, and I felt cold without her warmth against me. The goalie’s grin had reappeared but faded away just as quickly.

“Mi too, Cari, but I don’t want you to quit your job for me. It makes you so happy…”

“I’m happy with you” I replied at once but I felt we needed to talk more now that we were at it. “Look, I can’t quit right now, but I won’t loose you for a stupid work contract!”

Misa’s nose twitched again.

“Yeah I know.” She said, and she went to sit on the low wall behind her, her head falling down. “Nicky, I need to tell you something… Because of clubs rivalries, I’ve been kind of forced to hide my previous relationships. When you arrived at the Ciudad and we started hanging out, I thought: Increíble! I may have found somebody I can openly be with! But then, you told me about the clause… and it was like I was bound to go through it all over again.” The pretty brunette lifted her head, guilt in her eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve been weird, I’m just tired of it sometimes.”

I crouched in front of her to take her in my arms. “Misa, baby, I’m sorry…” It broke my heart to see that strong woman so vulnerable all of sudden. I wasn’t responsible, but I truly hated putting her in that position. “I’m so sorry! You have to give me time. I mean, given the circumstances, we can’t rush things…”

The goalkeeper bit her lips and sighed again, worry flashing across her pretty face.

“I’m not in a rush. I get you, Nicky” she answered before rising up to peer at the pouring water. The paths all around us had become rivers of mud.

Misa turned back to me, her face sad. “But what happens next? Do you really know what it takes to be with a professional athlete? Right now, our schedules match; we can spend free time together, we travel together. But if you quit, our schedules won’t align anymore. I’ll be away almost once a week, all my weekends taken by matches, several weeks out of town for international breaks and competitions, plus the regular work and training obligations you already know…” The young woman took my hands back in hers and asked, “Do you really think you could be happy in a relationship like that?”

The pounding rain was finally easing as Misa’s chest rose and fell, surrendering our relationship’s future to me. A perplexed expression drew across her features when she saw me smile mildly.

“You’re worth it,“ I replied without a doubt. “I can’t promise you it will work but I’ll be more than happy to try.” The goalie’s smile was back. She blinked several times.

“Te quiero Misa and nothing can compete against that” I stated.

Misa hugged me tight again. Her strong arms wrapped around me protectively, possessively, and she led her lips from my column to the my ear.

“Let’s go home now, Cari” She whispered.

Dripping from the roof, the rain was falling back at full force, wrapping the kiosk in a veil of water. We glanced at the sunken alleys of the park, and hand in hand, we jumped through the curtain of heavy drops, leaving the shelter where we had just laid out our hearts for the first time.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

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greengoblinswifey · 3 months ago

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Love & Super Bowl

pairing— Cooper Dejean x Fem!Reader

summary— The Eagles just won the Super Bowl and on top of that, it’s your boyfriend’s birthday. So, you reward him and celebrate in the best way possible.

warnings— 18+. fluff, L bombs, praise kink, oral(m&f), fingering, hair pulling, strip tease, ass slapping, choking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie.

a/n— As requested by the masses, Cooper DeJean smut🙏🏽I need him so fucking baddd

As the final whistle blew, signaling the Philadelphia Eagles’ victory, you leaped from your seat, your cheers echoing amidst the crowd.

Green confetti rained down everywhere and the crowd was going wild, the cheers enough to make you go deaf. Pushing through the chaos, you spotted him on the field, helmet off, hair a mess, the biggest smile on his face. You didn’t even think, just ran straight to him, launching yourself into his arms. He caught you like it was nothing, holding you tight as you wrapped your legs around him.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!” you practically shouted, smiling like an idiot.

Cooper laughed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I love you so much,” he said, kissing you, green confetti sticking to both of you.

The whole thing felt unreal, like something out of a movie.

Later at the after party, Cooper looked hot—too hot. A cigar between his lips, smirk on his face, championship chain around his neck, you wanted him, badly. But you kept it together, mostly. That is, until you started dancing on him, pushing your ass back to feel how hard you made him.

His grip on your waist tightened. “Baby, stop,” he murmured in your ear, voice low. “You know I’ll take you right here.”

You smirked, looking back at him. “Then do it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Just wait ‘til we get back to the hotel.”

And he meant that.

The whole night, he kept you close, his arm around your waist, pulling you into him like he couldn’t stand to be apart for more than five seconds. You could tell he was counting down the minutes until the party was over even though he was enjoying it.

And the second you walked into the hotel room? He had you up against the door, kissing you like he’d been waiting forever. His hands were everywhere, gripping your waist, pulling you closer. His hands on your ass, slapping and squeezing.

“You were amazing tonight,” you murmured between kisses. “So proud of you.”

The Super Bowl, his birthday, and you, his girlfriend? He couldn’t have asked for a better night.

“You deserve to be rewarded tonight,” you murmured, tracing a hand down Cooper’s chest as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He smirked, his eyes dark. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, giving him that look, the one that always made his breath hitch. “Mhm.”

Slowly, you stepped back, peeling off your outfit with a teasing smile, even swaying your hips and bending over to give him a full view of your pussy. He leaned back slightly, his hands gripping the sheets as he took you in, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“God, you’re fucking hot,” he muttered.

You made your way back to him, pushing him gently so he fell against the mattress. His hands immediately found your waist, but you swatted them away playfully. “Let me take care of you,” you whispered, kissing a trail down his torso.

His breathing grew heavier, his muscles tensing under your touch. “You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair as you moved lower, looking up at him through your lashes.

His grip tightened on the sheets, a quiet curse slipping from his lips. “Oh, shit—”

And that was all the encouragement you needed.

After ridding him of his undergarments, his cock sprang free, hard and already leaking. You took ahold of him, hand barely able to go around it all before you kissed the tip. He sucked in a breath, his eyes laser focused on you as you trailed your tongue up and down the veins on his thick shaft.

“You’re such a tease baby,” he chucked, “C’mon, take my dick down that throat.”

He rested his hand on your head and you slowly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue until he hit the back of your throat. You let him settle there for a minute, relishing in how stretched out your mouth was and how sexy his soft moans sounded before you began moving your head.

“Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking amazing,” he moaned.

You pulled him out of your mouth, leaving just the tip in and suckled on it. He was so sensitive, throwing his head back and gripping the sheets as if to anchor himself. Your lips trailed from his shaft to his balls, sucking as he whimpered soft praises.

“That feels so good. You’re gonna make me cum,” he murmured, breath heaving as he stared down at you.

Taking him back down your throat, you bobbed your head faster, hands caressing his balls as they tightened. With a pop, you took him out of your mouth. “Cum down my throat, you deserve it.”

He bucked his hips, moaning your name as his load shot down your throat. You didn’t stop though, taking him deeper, bobbing your head faster, determined to get every reaction and every last drop of cum out of him.

When you were finally done with him, he pulled you up into a sloppy kiss, savoring the taste of himself on your tongue. “Thank you so much, baby. You always know how to make me feel good,” he praised.

You pushed his hair back, littering his face with kisses. His hands went to your ass as his lips captured yours in a kiss that was even deeper than the last, squeezing and caressing. He had your leg up, trailing his fingers slowly along your thigh until they reached your clit.

“Baby,” you whined. “You always make me feel good but tonight is your night.”

Cooper shifted until his face was hovering over your pussy. “I don’t care. I need to taste you.”

Your half hearted protests caught in your throat as his mouth connected with your clit, sucking as though he had a point to prove. His tongue lapped at your juices, and you cried out as he abruptly slipped a finger inside you.

“God, you taste fucking incredible,” he muttered.

His tongue worked with precision, flicking your clit as his finger curled inside you, meeting your sweet spot with every thrust. You grabbed his hair, grinding on his tongue as he worked you over and before long, you could feel the coil in your abdomen tighten.

“Clenching around my fingers so tight. Give me my reward baby, cum in my mouth,” Cooper said, between licks.

Your back arched from the bed and you felt a rush of liquid leave your pussy. He lapped at your juices like a man starved, guiding you through your high as your entire body shook.

“That’s my girl, that’s my perfect fucking girl,” he cooed, sucking off his finger and licking his lips.

Your breath hitched. He didn’t even give you a minute to recover. You felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh as he hovered above you, his hair tousled giving him that chiseled look.

“Cooper,” you whined. “I need you so fucking bad. I’ve needed you the moment you started playing on that field, you looked so hot.”

He smirked, rubbing the tip along your folds and collecting your juices. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

Without missing a beat you did as you were told. “I want your cock so bad. Please fuck me, I need it. I need you.”

“Good girl.” With his hand wrapped gently around your throat, his cock inched into your pussy. You could feel every vein as he slowly pushed inside you, inch by inch until your nails clawed his back.

“Fuck. This pussy was so needy for me, wasn’t she?” he groaned, his eyes going from his cock buried inside you to your face twisted in pleasure.

You couldn’t answer, his cock had knocked the air out of your lungs but he wasn’t having it. He thrusted harshly, your tits bouncing as your body jolted.

“Answer me,” he said, voice low and rough.

“Yes, Cooper. My pussy’s so needy,” you managed to croak out.

He began moving at a steady pace, hitting all the right spots that made your nails dig into his back even deeper. His hand was still around your throat, gentle but firm as his gaze locked with yours.

“You feel so fucking good. Taking this dick like you’re the champ tonight,” he chuckled, breathlessly.

You spread your legs even wider, the sound of your cries and pussy squelching filling the room.

“Faster, Cooper!” you cried out, feeling yourself tip over the edge.

“Anything for my good girl.”

He pushed your legs behind your head, the angle making his cock slip inside you even deeper. He pressed you into the mattress, pounding your pussy as your loud moans filled the hotel room.

“Oh my God, Cooper! I’m gonna cum!” You were sure the entire floor filled with Eagles players could hear you but in that moment, you didn’t care. Cooper was fucking you too good, still running off the adrenaline from the game.

You moaned his name like a prayer, squirting on his raw cock as he continued slamming into you. He pressed kisses to your lips, still thrusting into you until he flipped you over so you were on your back.

He slapped your ass, making you squeal, then sank right back into you. “So fucking sexy. Take everything I give you.”

You arched your back and his fingers tangled in your hair as he slammed into you from behind. With each thrust, you felt the head of his cock practically kissing your cervix. He stared down at your ass rippling against him and his cock disappearing inside you, covered in your cream.

“You should see how beautiful you look just taking my fucking dickfrom behind,” he groaned, voice raspy. “Can’t believe how lucky I am tonight.”

You pushed back against him, meeting his harsh thrusts and with the way his cock twitched inside you, you could tell he wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

“That’s my girl. Push back against my dick. Fuck me back, princess.”

He let go of your hair, hand snaking around your neck as you arched off him and met his thrusts. He titled your head back, pressing a deep kiss to your lips as his hips stuttered.

“Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum,” he murmured.

Your walls clenched around him, creaming on his cock and soaking him.

“Cum inside me, Cooper,” you breathed, your entire body convulsing from the intense orgasm.

You didn’t need to tell him twice, he slammed into you for the last time, pressing you into the mattress as his load filled you to the brim. A deep a guttural moan left his lips, his cock twitching and painting your insides.

“Don’t move, baby,” he whimpered. “Stay right there, take all my cum. I’m gonna breed this pussy tonight.”

You stayed pressed into the mattress, the feeling of his warm and sticky cum leaving you content until he finally collapsed beside you, panting.

You were still catching your breath, body trembling slightly as Cooper pulled you into his arms. His skin was warm against you, his lips brushing over yours as you both tried to steady yourselves. His hand slid up your back, fingers tracing lazy patterns as he gazed at you with that look he always gave you, like you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“You took me so well,” he murmured. “You’re so hot. That was amazing.”

You smiled against his lips, pressing another soft kiss there before pulling back to look at him. “I’m so proud of you, truly,” you whispered. “You did absolutely amazing out there. You’re a fucking Super Bowl champion, Cooper.”

He let out a breathless chuckle and pressed a trail of kisses over your face, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, making you giggle softly.

“I love you so much,” he murmured, holding you even closer, like he never wanted to let go. “I couldn’t think of a better way to end the night.”

You snuggled deeper into his chest, your fingers lazily tracing over his skin. “I love you too. Happy birthday again,” you whispered back, closing your eyes as his heartbeat thrummed steadily in your ear.

Perfect.

531 notes · View notes

harmonyrae · 2 months ago

Text

Ethical Dilemma

Synopsis: He needs a better grade on his Business Ethics paper and you're the only one who can give it to him. But it looks like a better grade isn't all he's after.

AN: I’ve been seeing a lot of Professor AUs with the boys, and then, all of a sudden, at 1:48 AM on a Thursday, I thought “What about them as students?” and IMMEDIATELY STARTED WRITING. Anyways, here’s Student!Sylus x Teachers Assistant!Reader - they're both college aged, btw. Let me know if you want one of these for all the boys!

Content Warnings: explicit language & sexual descriptions, Sylus talks you through it, Troublemaker!Sylus, Downbad!Sylus, Oral (f receiving), PiV, sex with protection (yay), semi-public (kinda, they big riskin it), smut with some plot, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.8k

When you received your teacher aide assignment for your final semester, you were stunned. No one else in your program was given a senior-level class to assist with. Tara got freshman English literature, Yvonne got freshman biology, and even Jeremiah got freshman world history. Why were you put with one of the strictest teachers at the university in a subject you weren’t interested in teaching?

“Maybe Business Ethics won’t be that bad. Maybe you’ll like it more than you expect.”

You stare at Tara across the lunch table. She winces and returns her focus to her salad. You poke your fries with your fork, too nervous to stomach even the simplest carbs.

“It’s a senior level class… I probably know half of them and I’m supposed to what? Grade their tests and exert authority over them when Trumbo isn’t there? What exactly am I supposed to learn that will help me with my elementary education degree?”

“Well, most college guys act like children.”

Simone laughs at her own joke. Her high pitched snickering makes you laugh, despite your frustration. You cover your face to hide your smile, she’s got a point.

“And I’m supposed to grade their papers using what knowledge?”

“I’m sure Professor Trumbo will give you an outline, if he even lets you grade them at all.”

Simone reaches over and takes your plate of fries away, setting it down in front of her and immediately diving in.

“I hear Trumbo never takes a teacher’s aide. Wonder why he picked you.”

You glare at Simone, you weren’t going to eat the fries anyways, but now you’re even more nervous than before. How are you supposed to face Trumbo in an hour?

“Whatever the reason, you’re an amazing choice. And if you don’t have much to do, you can use the time to work on your aftergrad applications.”

Now Tara is on the receiving end of your death glare.

“I told you I was considering grad school, not applying!”

Tara groans and taps your shoulder repeatedly.

“Oh come on, you know you want to! You’ll get a full ride, I just know it!”

You grab her hand and lean towards her until your noses touch.

“I’m considering it, no promises.”

Simone throws a fry at you.

“Now kith.”

You let go of Tara and throw the french fry back at Simone, ignoring her snickering.

You're sprinting down the hall to Trumbo’s lecture hall an hour later cursing yourself for deciding to walk instead of catching the campus bus. Your sneakers are stained with mud and your skirt is plastered to your legs from how much you’re sweating. It’s unusually warm for January…

You skid to a stop in front of the doors and let yourself pant for a few seconds. You hold your breath and open the doors to see the hall nearly filled with students. Great, a big class. Luckily Trumbo is not here yet so you have a moment to gather your thoughts and dry your brow before trudging to the front of the classroom.

You hear whispers from the students in their seats and try your best to ignore the urge to listen in. Are they talking about you? Do they know you’re the teacher's aide?

You try to be as quiet as possible as you set your things down at the designated desk at the front of the class. When you turn around you notice everyone’s eyes are locked on you. You slide into your seat and open your laptop, hoping they’ll ignore you if you ignore them.

The door at the back of the hall slams against the wall and everyone turns to watch Professor Trumbo, a lanky middle-aged man with a salt and pepper beard, march down the aisle to the front. He tosses his briefcase on the desk and taps the microphone at the podium. A loud squeak makes everyone wince. He leans an arm on the podium and clears his throat.

“Good afternoon. Welcome to Business Ethics. You’re all seniors in your last semester at this university so I know your motivation is at an all time low. Fix that. This class is not going to be a cake-walk. You have 2 essays and 2 tests. If you fail 2 of the 4 you fail the class and have to take the class again in the fall. Yes, that’s correct, you will not be getting your diploma. Therefore, don’t be lazy and don’t be late. Young lady?”

The silence is deafening and you finally look up to see who is ignoring the professor, it turns out it’s you. Trumbo stares at you with a hand on his hip. He motions for you to come up on the platform and you quickly stumble out of your chair.

“Hello professor.”

He gives you a small smile and turns to face the class again.

“This is my teacher’s aide this semester. She’ll be grading all of your assignments and taking attendance everyday. If you choose to treat her like shit, I am giving her complete authority to treat your papers like toilet paper. Don’t be a bitch, simple. Now, here’s the roster, go ahead and take attendance for me.”

He leaves the roster on the podium and returns to his desk to start pulling papers out of his briefcase. You stare at him for a moment, almost unsure you heard him correctly. To avoid getting on his bad side, you step up to the podium and pull a pen out of your jacket pocket. You cringe at how fragile your voice sounds on the microphone, but you push through, calling out each name and checking off everyone present. Until you reach one name, shit… you forgot he was a business major… of course he’s in this class.

“Sylus Che?”

There’s a moment of silence and you look up, watching the students whisper to each other.

“Sylus Che?”

Is he really missing the first day of class?

Didn’t he get kicked out?

Oh my god, he’s in this class? He’s so cute…

You repeat his name, failing to ignore the whispers as your cheeks flush. Your pen hovers over the absent box.

“Present.”

His smooth voice cuts through the whispers and several students turn in their seats to search for the source. You spot a hand raised towards the back of the class and squint to get a better look. He stands and pushes the sleeves of his hoodie over his forearms before shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Sorry I didn’t answer before, I was distracted by your beautiful eyes.”

A chorus of giggles erupts and your cheeks burn. You drop your gaze to the roster and can barely make the check by his name with how badly your hand is shaking. You hear Trumbo stand from his chair and look over to watch him approach the podium. He stands at the end of the platform, his hand resting on the corner of the podium.

“Sylus Che, if my memory is correct I had you in two of my other classes, yes?”

Sylus grins, his brows rise when he notices you looking at him again.

“That’s correct sir.”

“And, I believe, you passed those classes by the skin of your teeth? No?”

Now the class is giggling at Sylus’s misfortune instead of yours. You bite your lip to avoid smiling. Sylus’s grin doesn’t fade, but his ears do turn red, almost matching his eyes.

“Flirting with the teacher’s aide won’t improve your chances at passing. Now, sit down.”

Sylus obeys and you continue reading off the list of names. Once you’re done, you return to your desk and hide behind your Curriculum Development textbook to text Tara.

𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘴 𝘊𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘭��𝘴𝘴…

Tara

𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵, 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 “𝘏𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘚𝘪𝘯” 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘴? 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘚𝘠𝘓𝘜𝘚?

𝘠𝘌𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘚𝘠𝘓𝘜𝘚 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦

Tara

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰?

𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 “𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴” 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵

Trumbo approaches you after class and hands you a folder.

Tara

𝙊𝙈𝙂😲

“I know you’re not a business major, that’s why I picked you.”

“W-wait, you wanted me specifically?”

He leans against your desk and crosses his arms.

“I’ve taught this class for nearly 20 years and everyone gives the same cookie-cutter answers. ‘Don’t be shady’, ‘don’t commit tax fraud’, ‘don’t fire someone without a real reason’ - I’m sick of it. I want someone who knows nothing to make these knuckleheads use common sense rather than textbook answers. I don’t want a ‘don’t do it’ I want a ‘here’s why.’”

You flip through the folder in your hands, it’s full of notes and outlines for papers and tests.

“You’re the top student in your major. You’ve been taught to deal with difficult students and essentially read people. Everyone I asked recommended you.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling, knowing you were recommended makes you feel less anxious in general.

“If you have any questions or aren’t sure on a grade, I will gladly look it over. But I want you to listen to your gut. Give the grade that feels right based on their answers and whether or not you think they’re bullshitting or really believe what they’re spewing.”

You nod and shove the folder into your bag.

“You can use this lecture hall for office hours, no one else uses it except for me.”

“Office hours?”

“Oh right, I won’t be the one meeting with students, that’ll be you. If they want to beg for a better grade, it won’t be with me.”

“I have to cover your office hours too? I… what about…”

“Did you inquire about why your Education Ethics class was rescheduled for you?”

You open your mouth to reply, but your lightbulb moment silences you.

“So I do everything but give the lectures?”

“Basically.”

Trumbo stands and tucks his briefcase under his arm. He smiles and hands you a post-it note.

“Here’s my number. Don’t hesitate to call me if you’re having trouble with someone.”

With that, he leaves. You stand at your desk for a while, staring at the note and wondering how you’re going to manage the workload. When you finally look up to finish packing your bag, you see someone leaning against the wall next to the exit. You don’t need to squint this time, Sylus’s tall frame is unmistakable.

Handling Trumbo’s class was much easier than you expected. Everyone was relatively polite and did what they were told. Only one student had failed the course so far. You were weeks away from graduation and already planning your annual beach trip with the girls.

“I’m so bored with the beaches around here… we only ever go to someplace we can drive to. Let’s go international this year! We’re graduating, that warrants a special trip!”

Tara wraps an arm around Simone and matches her pout.

“Yeah, let’s go big this year. It’ll be the last girls trip before we go to grad school and Simone is flying to Tokyo for her big girl tech job!”

You look at the girls over the screen of your laptop and roll your eyes.

“I’m still waiting on my acceptance letter. And unless one of you is paying for me, I can’t afford it. I’m saving for an apartment, remember.”

“Did you guys already order your cap and gown?”

Tara slaps Simone’s hand away from the last nacho and grabs it for herself.

“Yeah, I just hope Trumbo is pleased with my work and gives me a passing grade.”

“You’ve done a shit ton of work for him, he better give you a recommendation letter too!”

“Is there still anything left for you to do?”

“I’m grading the last paper.”

“Who’s in the danger zone? Anyone we know?”

Simone leans forward, wiggling her eyebrows with a smirk.

“There’s a handful, if they get a passing score on this paper they’ll be fine.”

“Is a certain snowy-haired sex god one of them?”

“Simone!”

Tara tries to scold her, but her smile gives her away.

“It would be unethical for me to reveal that information.”

“Bo-ring!”

You wait until they’re both out of sight to pull out Sylus’s paper from your folder. While you love the color red, especially those ruby red eyes, you hate the sight of how much red is on this paper. Sylus is about to fail Business Ethics and it’ll be your fault. Then again, he never came to you during office hours to plead his case. He’d flirted all semester, even leaving a little note at the end of his last paper trying to woo you. But none of that would help his grade now.

You gather your things and tuck Sylus’s paper in your bag. You have office hours and then you can post the final grades. Your walk to the business building is quiet, the cherry blossom trees had bloomed last week which meant the entire walkway was sprinkled with pink petals. You trudge down the hall to Trumbo’s lecture hall and sigh, it’s so quiet at this time of day with all classes wrapped up and teachers heading home.

You set up your desk and prepare for two hours of uninterrupted bliss. A few more papers need grading and your final essay for Child Development needs revising. You’re sipping your iced matcha and scrolling through your playlist, searching for the right vibe for this study session, when you hear a door open. When you look up you nearly spray your matcha all over your laptop.

Sylus saunters down the aisle towards you. How he made the most basic outfit look hot, you’ll never know. Ripped jeans, a loose t-shirt with the sleeve rolled up, dirty chucks - to look that effortless would take you hours. He approaches your desk and drops his backpack to the floor, he sits on the corner of the desk and props his foot up on his knee.

“C-can I help you Sylus?”

The corners of his mouth twitch and he rubs a hand over his face to reset the serious expression he’s trying to maintain.

“Yes, Miss, I was wondering if you’ve graded my paper yet?”

You look down at the folder in front of you, knowing his paper is on top. You clear your throat and rest your folded hands on top of the folder.

“Yes, I have.”

He leans forward, his hair swaying and falling over his forehead,

“So how am I looking?”

Hot. Delicious. Fuckable. All correct answers, but not something you can say. Not just because you’re too anxious, but because you’re about to tell this man he isn’t going to be graduating in a few weeks.

“Uhh… let me ask you a question.”

He leans back and nods.

“Do you have morals?”

He laughs, the boisterous sound echoing off the walls in the empty lecture hall.

“I’d like to think so.”

“Do you think your morals align with the ethics discussed in this class?”

He pauses for a moment, then sighs heavily.

“I failed, didn’t I?”

“Answer my question.”

His grimace turns into a grin as he gives you a once-over.

“I think the concepts presented in this class are narrow-minded and rather unrealistic.”

You open the folder and set his paper down in front of him before crossing your arms.

“That statement alone would have gotten you a better grade than this trash.”

Sylus looks down at his paper, his eyes slowly rise to glare at you.

“I hope you’re not expecting me to beg.”

“I’m not expecting anything, you had your chance to come to me sooner. You failed, plain and simple.”

“Hmm… narrow-minded and rather unrealistic… that seems to describe you too, sweetie.”

“You can insult me all you like, isn’t going to change your grade.”

“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong Miss. I’m not insulting you… I’m challenging you.”

You hesitate, your fingers twitching with anxiety.

“What do you mean by ‘challenge’?”

“The prompt was about negotiations, right?” You nod. “Well, I will prove that business deals should be personalized, negotiating is just another word for interrogating in my book.”

“So you plan on interrogating me?”

He stands and slowly walks around the desk to stand beside you.

“I told you, deals should be personalized. I don’t think interrogating you will help my case.”

You cross your arms and try to tuck your legs under the desk further.

“I’m curious what you think intimidating me will accomplish.”

“Wrong again, kitten.”

The nickname throws you off, you stare up at him, your eyes frantically searching for even a hint of sarcasm.

“W-what do you –”

He suddenly kneels and takes your hand, bringing it to his lips. He places a slow kiss to your knuckles before turning your hand slightly to kiss your palm. His breath tickles your skin and sends a shock of excitement straight to your core.

“I tried to be subtle, but it seems you need a more direct approach.”

He slowly starts to press open mouth kisses up your arm.

“I’ve had my eye on you all semester since the day you came into this classroom all sweaty and out of breath. Your cheeks flushed, lips parted as you gasped for air.”

He places his other hand on your knee and turns your chair to face him. He plays with the lace along the hem of your dress, letting his fingers tease your thigh.

“You’d sit here, nose in a textbook or trying to hide behind your laptop, but every time you’d look up I’d see you look for me. The way your teeth sunk into that pouty lip of yours when you caught my attention.”

He reaches up and brushes his thumb across your bottom lip. You’re frozen in place, your heart pounding wildly in your chest and your clit damn near vibrating with excitement. You try to squeeze your legs together, but Sylus presses his torso between them. He lifts your hand once more and kisses the tips of your fingers.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t care that much about the paper. Sure, I’d love to get the hell out of this school, but I think I could suffer through another semester if I could fuck you on this desk right now.”

He suddenly sucks your thumb into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the tip and circling before sucking. You let out a breathy moan and close your eyes to try and force yourself to calm down. Sylus releases your thumb with a lewd pop.

“No, please kitten, I want to see those gorgeous eyes.”

You open your eyes to see Sylus leaning forward, his nose trails along your jaw as his hands fall to your waist.

“Fuck the paper, kiss me.”

He looks up at you, his eyes full of desperation. At this moment, you can’t recall a single lecture about educational ethics and you don’t bother trying. You grab his face and pull him to you, his lips just as needy. His hands reach around and he pulls you to the edge of your seat.

“Get on the desk for me sweetie.”

You follow his instructions without hesitation, all rhyme and reason chucked out the window with your sanity. All you can think of, all you can feel, all you can sense is him - just him.

“That’s it, lean back for me.”

You lean back, letting Sylus lift your dress to reveal your panties. He grabs the back of your neck and brings you forward, crashing his mouth into yours. His other hand squeezes your hip and dips down to cup your clothed pussy. You shiver as he gasps into your mouth, his hand rubbing back and forth, only making you more feral.

“You naughty thing, this wet just from a little flirting?”

You throw your head back and firmly grip his t-shirt to keep from falling back.

“Shut up… ahh… as if you’re not hard right now…”

He chuckles as he licks the side of your neck.

“Oh I am… and I can’t wait to be so deep it’ll take you weeks to forget the shape of me.”

You moan loudly, your body shaking as he finally slips his hand down the front of your panties to touch you directly. His fingers trace your swollen clit and tease your entrance slowly. You press yourself against his palm and he groans into your neck. Your fingers clutch the back of his shirt. He takes a step back and pulls it over his head as you yank off your cardigan. He clumsily pulls your dress over your head and runs his hands through your hair, gently tugging to tilt your head back so he can kiss your neck again.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…”

Your mind is blissfully empty, for the first time in years… You’re not thinking about papers or tests, student loans or grad school. You’re just letting your body take control. You let your hands slide down Sylus’s torso, every muscle shivering under your touch. A subtle click and zip, you don’t even realize you’re pushing his pants over his hips.

“So eager… you want it, kitten?”

You let him go and lay back on the desk. His eyes don’t know where to look. He leans over and presses kisses to your stomach while his hands shimmy your panties down your legs. Your back arches off the desk as he kisses you, every tender kiss sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. You sit up suddenly.

“Am I going too fast?”

You shake your head and tuck your fingers under the hem of your bra, yanking it over your head in one swift motion. His pupils dilate as he takes in your fully naked body.

“I want it, all of it, touch me please, fucking touch me…”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against him. His bare skin against yours makes your head spin. You can feel his heart beating and all you can think is how badly you want him to touch you, to hold you, to consume you. He pushes your shoulders until you are on your back again. His tongue is eager to taste every inch of you, his lips drag along your neck, down to your collarbone, to the swell of your chest, closing around your nipples to suck and lick at the tender flesh. He continues down your stomach and over your hips, and then you whimper as he lifts your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Yes, keep making those sweet sounds, you sound so good. Moan for me again angel.”

His tongue dips straight into your pussy making you groan and writhe. He continues to fuck you with his tongue, his nose rubbing against your clit until you feel like you’re about to explode. His hands grab your ass and lift you, pushing his tongue further inside. Your legs shake and you reach back to hold onto the edge of the desk, gripping something to try to stop your legs from snapping shut against his head.

“I want you to come for me, I need to taste you. Please I need it…”

His voice is so desperate, so raw, you don’t even have to think you just release. Your cries of pleasure are matched with his own, just hearing him moan has you seeing stars. You hear him sucking and slurping like your pussy is a damn water fountain and he’s never seen water before. You’re trembling and almost crying by the time he lifts his head from between your legs. He crawls over you and buries his face into your neck, smearing your release onto your collarbone.

“You taste divine… better than I imagined…”

You run your fingers through his hair, letting your legs finally relax and hang off the desk.

“You imagined what I’d taste like?”

He rises and rests his elbows at your side, his face flushed such a pretty shade of pink.

“I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I needed you, I still need you.”

“Sylus…”

His eyes drift from your lips to meet your gaze.

“Fuck me.”

His crimson eyes darken as lust takes over. He stands and you lift yourself up onto your elbows. You watch as he peels his boxes off, evidence of his own climax staining the fabric.

“Did you…”

“Cum from eating your pussy? I sure did.”

You sit up fully and loop an arm around his neck, his body collides with yours and you waste no time. His mouth slots over yours and you part your lips to invite him in. His tongue traces your lips and presses against your tongue until you’re delirious from the lack of oxygen. Your hand reaches down between your bodies to wrap around his cock. He tenses and you slowly stroke him until he’s gasping.

“I can’t wait anymore…”

He frees himself from your grasp to grab his wallet from his jeans. He retrieves a condom and tears it open with his teeth. You snatch it out of his hands and roll it on as he whispers your name. As soon as it’s on, he’s lifting you off the desk and lowering you onto his cock.

“SYL– oh… Sylus fuuuuck…”

You wrap your legs around him and cling to him, his face buried in your chest as he slowly stretches you out.

“Holy fuck, she’s so tight… breathe for me sweetie, you can do it.”

You throw your head back and moan loudly, the sound of your cries bouncing off the walls and turning you on even more. Your pussy pulses and you force yourself to take a deep breath, your belly expanding. He bites your nipple and you nearly cum again. He lowers you quickly, his teeth rolling your nipple distracting you enough to take the rest of his impressive cock.

“You’re taking me so well, she’s sucking me in now, you feel that?”

You nod frantically, the deep rumble of his laugh makes your stomach clench. You need more.

“You want me to move, angel? Is that what you want?”

You nod again, your nails digging into his back.

“Use your words, let me hear that beautiful voice. Please, angel, speak to me.”

“Yes yes Sylus… fuck me, move please I need you - I need you to move…”

The next thing you know, your back is hitting the desk and his cock is slowly pulled out. Just as you’re about to take a breath, he’s ramming himself back inside. You scream his name and grind your hips forward.

“Shit… do that again, grind on me, angel.”

You roll your hips and feel his cock twitch inside of you. Your walls flutter as you match his pace. The sounds of skin against skin, the lewd squelch of your leaking pussy and his guttural groans fade and all you can hear is your heartbeat. The tension you’ve felt for nearly the whole semester, finally reaching its peak.

“Sy, Sy, Sy! I’m going to… I’m…”

“I know, I know, me too… Let me feel you… come on, I have you.”

Your body trembles as you cum on his cock. A growl erupts from Sylus’s chest as he falls apart. You can only feel his cock twitching and his hips pulsing, you’re almost angry at the condom for keeping you from feeling him completely. And now, you can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like for him to fill you.

“I wish I felt that, I wish I felt you fill me… fuck…”

Sylus groans into your shoulder, his chest heaving as he tries to come down.

“There’s always next time, sweetie. If you want there to be a next time.”

You whine as he pulls out. He removes the condom and tosses it into the trash can next to your desk. You sit up and reach for your bra, clumsily pulling it on over your head.

“What are you doing? What if someone sees that?”

Sylus grabs some tissues from Trumbo’s desk and returns to you, gently spreading your legs to clean you up.

“Frankly, I don’t give a damn.”

He turns to clean himself and you hop off the desk to grab your panties and dress off the floor.

“Okay Mr. Rhett Butler.”

“Oh, you got the reference.”

“I didn’t peg you for a movie buff.”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You’re about to put your dress on when he stops you. He stands in front of you in his boxers, his hands settling at your waist. Your breath catches as he pulls you forward.

“I meant it, you know.”

“M-meant what?”

He leans down and places gentle kisses to the side of your neck.

“I don’t care about the paper. The only deal I want to make involves seeing you again.”

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:

@trishiepo0

@not-so-quite-human

@kitsunetori

@babyx91

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@withering-dream

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@freddy-2002-blog

@plsdonttakemyname

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arabella0001 · 1 month ago

Text

❛say it when you're sober❜ (sasuke uchiha x reader)

✦ AU • slow burn • smut with plot ✦

✦ anime: naruto

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

synopsis: you don’t usually drink this much. don’t usually flirt. don’t usually end up pressed against a stranger at 3 a.m., skin hot and mind fuzzy. but naruto introduces you to two of his friends and somehow you go home with one of them. or maybe… he takes you. sasuke isn’t what you expected. he’s quiet. intense. and when the door shuts behind you—nothing about him feels accidental.

⚠️cn: alternate universe, smut with plot(bc i can't help myself), slow burn, strangers to lovers, original characters x naruto, alcohol intoxication, smoking, fluff, rough sex, oral, praising, light dom/sub.

When you get home, you walk ahead of him with your head down, eyes barely focused on your hands as they frantically fumble with the keys.

Once you reach the door, your hand trembles on the lock, emotions too intense to find the right position to open it. Sasuke softens his gaze behind you until he places his hand over yours, calming it—and opens the door with a soft click.

The gentleness doesn’t last long. He turns you around and gently pushes you back against the door, making you yelp. His breath tickles your ear as he glances at you from the corner of his eye, through dark strands of hair.

"Where’s your boldness from before? You left it at the club?"

You gulp, unable to form a coherent sentence.

You slip slightly out of his “prison” and try to change the subject, waving your hand around the room as you awkwardly excuse the mess. Sasuke just smirks, amused by your nervous rambling, sensing your panic and embarrassment.

You walk over to one of the kitchen cabinets with a countertop resting on it, stabilized by another unit, and turn toward Sasuke—only to find him already standing right in front of you.

"You always talk this much when you're nervous?"

He moves in with that quiet, intense energy of his, even though his steps are slow, until your back hits the counter.

"It's cute."

Damn it. You blushed too hard at this while your hands grip the edges of the coutertop.

"It’s me making you shy?"

"Aah, no—sorry. I’m not usually like this—"

You try to explain yourself with silly excuses—when in fact, you are like this. Sasuke places his hands on your thighs and lifts you smoothly onto the counter, shutting you up completely.

He asks, his hands gliding gently over your body, moving behind your knees, sending goosebumps across your skin.

"Can I touch you?"

You stammer.

"Y-yes."

Sasuke studies your face for a moment before letting his focus drift to your lips. He leans in slowly, watching you part your mouth, ready for him. He smirks.

He kisses you gently, his tongue lazily rolling over yours, making you even wetter—if that’s even possible.

He doesn’t know why he’s acting out of character, but he can't help it. He wants to tease you more. His hands graze every intimate area, and between each touch, he asks.

First, at your chest.

"Can I touch here?"

"Y-yes."

Then, lower.

"But here?"

Your voice sharpens, eyes half-lidded and a little annoyed.

"Yes!"

He dives back into your lips, kissing you harder now, demanding entry as the tension between you spikes. His big hands pull you closer, gripping your ass firmly.

When he hears that moan—the same one that flipped his world back at the club—he groans, then pulls away from your lips, his breath brushing over them.

His hand moves between your legs, spreading them slightly as he cups your pussy, feeling how wet you are even through your pants.

"You stayed like this?"

Your expression softens, innocence peeking through your shame—and that only makes it harder for Sasuke to resist the urge to fuck you right then and there. He feels like a horny teenager again.

His fingers start rubbing you over your pants, pressing harder—until he quickly pulls them down.

"W-wait."

He stops immediately. Your voice snaps him back to reality, his usual cool composure cracking for a second. Did I read that wrong?

Until he sees your face—just pure embarrassment.

"I don’t do… this… usually. Like, sleep—"

He gives a smile, close to a laugh, then crouches slightly to pull your pants all the way down. His hands stroke your trembling legs with firmer pressure, trying to calm you as you squeeze your thighs together again—like you want to close yourself off.

"Neither do I."

He looks up at you from below, and somehow, his gaze gives you a strange sense of control—until he stands and cups your chin gently.

"If you changed your mind, we stop. But if you want this, just tell me." He watches you closely, reading every micro-expression. "Or just nod."

And you nod. Yep, he got you right.

He kisses you again—this time softer, more comforting, like he's trying to settle your nerves before asking.

"Now, your room?"

He picks you up, your arms wrapping around his neck. You look at him with a scared but too fucking cute expression, pointing to the room on the right.

"Left."

Once you reach the bedroom, Sasuke sets you down gently, his hands resting on your thighs, then trailing slowly along your back as his mouth searches for yours.

You wonder—if he hadn’t made you drink that water earlier—maybe you’d be able to hold back your moans with every touch. But you didn’t know that your eagerness only made Sasuke harder.

He moves with you slowly until your legs touch the edge of the bed. He lowers you down—gentle at first—then pushes your chest down so your head hits the bed and pulls your legs to the edge, making you yelp.

You push up onto your elbows, eyes wide, as he kneels and spreads your legs further.

"S-Sasuke."

He looks up at you with lust-darkened eyes, gently dragging a finger over your underwear, pressing harder—making your hips buck.

And before you can process anything, you feel his soft, wet lips on your clothed pussy. It feels so good, you swear you must be dreaming. You let out a whimper.

Sasuke loved that.

"Should I leave you like that?"

Your head lifts instantly, hair falling into your face. The look you give him says more than words ever could.

"D-don’t be mean."

He smirks—teasing you with words, not actions—as he pulls your soaked underwear down. Your arousal is already dripping between your thighs.

He didn’t think need could feel like this.

"Look at you." He spreads your folds, making it easier for him before adding. "Beautiful."

Your cheeks barely get the chance to blush from the compliment—something you’re not used to—before he’s already licking you. His tongue traces and moves from your hole to your clit before slurping up every drop of your arousal.

You fall back instantly, legs trembling worse than before, hands gripping the sheets tightly.

"F-fuck!"

He holds your legs firmly so you stop squirming, his lips pressing harder onto your pussy, devouring every inch of you. Only his muffled groans ground you in reality.

You dare to look at him—what you see is obscene. Sasuke’s face buried in you, barely visible, suffocating himself while your thighs squeeze tight around his head. And he doesn’t care at all.

Too turned on to think, you reach down and sweep the hair from his face, as if tying it back in a loose ponytail with your hand. The second his eyes meet yours, intense and dominant—you feel like you might cum right there.

Seeing your expression, he pauses and pulls back slightly, his tongue running over his lips to taste you. Then his hands pull you forward, flipping you onto your stomach—making you gasp.

"W-what?"

Sasuke spreads your folds, and the way you clench around nothing makes you ache to have him inside you. But that’s not what he’s after yet. His lips begin kissing and licking again—between your asshole and your cunt —before returning to your clit.

You're overwhelmed. You've never had this much attention—everywhere. It makes you want to cry. And you do—the moment one of Sasuke’s fingers slides inside you, while his tongue moves in rapid circles on your clit.

"Oh my go—"

You’re panting, your hips pressing harder into his face.

"More, more, more—"

So he adds another finger, twisting them. He pulls away from your swollen pussy for a moment, his other hand slipping under your stomach to steady you, while his fingers begin thrusting—hard.

He hits your special spot again and again.

Tears fall down your face, your thoughts shattered by the pleasure.

"I love it so much, I love it so much—"

His fingers explore places you never knew could feel so good. It almost hurts—your walls squeezes his fingers so hard it’s like you never want him to leave.

"Let go. Now."

His lips return to your sensitive bud, one final lick—and you scream so loudly, you barely hear yourself. But your neighbors definitely did.

"Yes, yes, yes—"

You’ve never cum this fast or this hard before—wetting the bed, his face, your thighs, the sheets—everything.

"Yeah, that's it. Good girl."

You whimper, tears still running down your cheeks as he licks and cleans you up, slurping every drop.

When he’s done, your legs drop down limply, your breathing ragged as you lie on your stomach. Hair a mess—you barely see him take off his shirt.

His voice hoarse, cracking slightly as he says:

"Hope you know we’re not done here."

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steddieunderdogfics · 4 months ago

Text

I’m a lover, boy by gayjinkies

@gayjinkies

Rating: Explict

13,425 words, 3/3 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Eddie Munson has a dick piercing, what a tag to start off with, First Time Blow Jobs, Blowjobs, Doing it for the dare, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington speedruns his sexuality crisis, Himbo Steve Harrington, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, They’re both disasters folks, ”I’m not gay but I wanna blow you anyway” type disasters, Crack, This is dumb as hell I’m so serious, Smut, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, They’re idiots your honour, Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, but more like morons to lovers, a sprinkle of angst for flavour, Dacryphilia, like big time, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Sub Steve Harrington, give the guy a break he’s just now figuring out what he’s into

Summary:

“Uh.” Harrington’s eyes are darting up to Eddie’s face and back down to his clasped hands, over and over. “So. I was — but it’s not like that, y’know? Because I’m — and I just wanted to —“ “Harrington,” Eddie interrupts, scowling. “Stop wasting my time. Spit it the fuck out.” Harrington glares at him, eyes narrowing. “Fine. Fine.” He pauses, biting his lip, before saying, “Are you gay?” Eddie’s blood runs cold. His brain stalls. “Uh. I don’t think I understand.” Harrington throws his head back in frustration, cursing under his breath at the sky. The movement ruffles his hair, strands curling around his ears as he looks upwards. When he looks back to Eddie, he says, very slowly, “I was hoping you were gay, Munson, so I could give you a blowjob and prove to myself that I’m good at it.” —— Or; the basketball team unanimously votes that Steve would be the worst at giving a blowjob. Steve wants to test the truth of that with the only guy he knows might be down to help - Eddie Munson.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @gayjinkies. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

#writer's spotlight #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #rated e #first time #smut #crack #no upside down au #smut with a happy ending

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pyaargulzar · 1 month ago

Text

guidance (pt. 5)

summary: with both lovers being miles away, their yearning intensifies. maybe what arnav taught khushi can be put to use to help them both?~

themes: romance, mature, mutual yearning woohoo, self-exploration on khushi's end, smut heehee, "main jo karunga, kya tum woh kar paogi?"

a/n: please feel free to show love/drop your thoughts!! these last 2 parts made me feel so down, i was literally writing to my depression playlist LOL 🥹 would LOOOVE to know if you liked this read 🫶

The boardroom was a battlefield.

Arnav’s voice cut through the heated debate like a blade, his fingers steepled under his chin as he dismantled arguments with ruthless precision. The numbers on the screen were his ammunition—every decimal point, every projection—and he wielded them with the same cold focus that had built his empire. The air was thick with tension, the hum of the projector the only sound as his team waited for his next move.

“If we pivot now, we lose leverage in the Asian markets. The data doesn’t support this gamble.”

His CFO opened his mouth to protest, but a single glance from Arnav silenced him. The man’s jaw snapped shut, his fingers tightening around his pen. The room exhaled. Deal closed.

Yet as his team shuffled out, murmuring praises, Arnav’s gaze drifted to his phone—dark, silent.

They didn’t know that his sharpness today stemmed from the fact that he hadn’t spoken to his wife. Nor did they know that he had begun yearning for her more desperately after dreaming about bending her over his desk, his hands gripping her hips, her breathy moans filling the silence of his office.

Maybe it was something in the air—the sterile, impersonal scent of the hotel, the endless cycle of meetings with new clients, the way every interaction felt like a negotiation. Whatever it was, it left him on edge, his skin too tight, his thoughts too loud.

That night, as the shower steamed around him, water sluicing off his tense shoulders, he braced his palms against the tiles, head bowed. It had been years since he’d let himself ache like this. He felt like a teenager in heat, restless and desperate, wishing he could teleport home. No one else and nothing else would do—he needed Khushi.

Her absence wasn’t just an emotional void; it was a physical torment—the hollow in his chest, the way his fingers twitched for the warmth of her waist. He’d spent half his life believing love was transactional, something he’d never earn. Too harsh. Too broken. As if he was too difficult to be loved.

But Khushi…Khushi loved him like breathing. Without reason, without limits. Her love never felt like too much—it was just right. A fresh sunny day, a warm cup of coffee, a blooming garden.

And everything felt right again once he finally heard her voice.

His thumb swiped over his phone screen, pulling up the private memo he’d drafted earlier: Gulfstream G700 – expedite purchase.

A ridiculous indulgence. But one he could most definitely afford. The thought of Khushi waiting at airports, worrying—no. He’d burn the money if it meant she’d never look that scared again. A cost-benefit analysis could never fulfill nor justify this need.

Four whole days without Arnav had passed.

Khushi’s clock was still stuck, her heart heavy with his absence. She missed him in everything she did—the way he’d grumble into his coffee in the mornings, the warmth of his hand at the small of her back, the sound of his voice when he whispered her name in the dark. The house had quickly become a whirlwind of activity—baby shower plans, nursery decorations, endless discussions about names—but none of it filled the space he left behind.

Today, she was helping Paayal select clothes for the baby, her fingers lingering over impossibly tiny onesies, her heart swelling at the thought of something so small and fragile coming into their lives.

Arnav had asked her to stop by his office later to pick up some files Aman had prepared. During their brief FaceTime calls, her world finally slowed.

As she drove to the AR Design office, her mind wandered. She wanted to do so much—but what? Arnav had reassured her that her restlessness wasn’t a bad thing, but it didn’t make the confusion any easier.

The office buzzed with its usual energy, employees moving with purpose, the hum of printers and hushed conversations filling the air. Khushi lingered near Arnav’s empty desk, running a finger along the polished edge.

How would it feel to sit here? To run these halls again, this time with real purpose?

She cringed inwardly at the memory of her first chaotic days in the office—her unprofessionalism, the team’s resistance. But she had tried. She had learned. And now, standing here, she wondered what it would be like to be part of it all—the proposals, the projects, the thrill of building something.

Aman’s knock pulled her from her thoughts. “Ma’am?” He hovered in the doorway, holding a file. “The reports Sir requested are here.” He placed them on the desk.

“Aman-ji,” Khushi blurted, then hesitated. “How is it working here?”

Aman smiled, as if he understood exactly what she was asking. “I like it. There’s a lot to learn from Arnav Sir.” He nodded toward the desk. “There are some documents in the right drawer for you as well.”

Khushi hummed, pulling out the envelope with her name on it. But what caught her attention was the file labeled ‘AR Design Quarterly Results’.

As she flipped through the pages, something flickered in her chest. Columns of numbers, profit margins, KPI’s—this was the language of her husband’s world. The same world she’d dipped into blindly before:

Selling sweets to keep her family afloat.

Running a tiffin service after marriage, bartering with suppliers.

She’d done it all by instinct, never realizing she’d been building skills. Her father had been a businessman—of course this felt natural.

A realization bloomed in her chest, warm and certain. She didn’t need to overthink it anymore. Her usual gleeful smile returned as she gathered the files, her steps lighter on the way out. She couldn’t wait to tell Arnav. He had to be the first to hear.

The next day, Khushi found herself home alone, the house eerily quiet. Paayal and Aakash had slipped away on a whispered date, leaving her with nothing but her thoughts—and the growing, gnawing ache for Arnav.

His call usually came in the morning or afternoon, but today, there was nothing.

“I’ll call you late at night, your time,” he’d texted.

Now, as night fell, Khushi traced idle circles on her phone screen, the empty notification feed mirroring the hollowness in her chest. She wandered to his wardrobe, the cedar scent of his suits wrapping around her like phantom arms.

One by one, she touched the fabrics that had graced his skin—the charcoal suit he favored, the blue shirt he’d worn just before leaving. Pressing a sleeve to her face, she inhaled deeply, her knees nearly buckling at the fading traces of his cologne.

She surrendered to instinct, slipping into the black cotton shirt he slept in. The hem brushed her thighs as she crawled onto his side of the bed, burying her face in his pillow. Here, surrounded by his scent, the distance felt almost bearable.

The phone’s sudden vibration startled her awake at 1:00 AM. She fumbled for it, his shirt slipping off one shoulder as she answered.

Arnav’s face filled the screen as his eyes trailed her form. “Been wearing that all day?” His voice was rougher than usual.

Khushi shook her head, the movement making the neckline slide further. “Just since sunset.” Her fingers nervously plucked at the fabric. “I missed—”

The call ended abruptly.

Khushi’s stomach twisted—anxiety, frustration, a flicker of anger. The emotions were sharper in her sleepy haze.

Then, her phone buzzed.

“Sorry, call you back soon. Love you.” a text.

The tension in her chest eased. The next call came an hour later.

Khushi answered in the moonlight, curled in their bed, still wearing his shirt. The moment his face appeared, she beamed.

“You’re still wearing my clothes,” he noted, his voice darkening.

Her fingers plucked at the cotton as she hummed. “It smells like you.”

“Khushi,” he warned.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Hmm?”

His jaw clenched. “Do you know what you’re doing? I rushed back to the hotel as soon as I could because of you”

She could feel the shift—the tension thickening, his gaze turning predatory. Her breath hitched.

Then, the words he’d been holding back,“Will you be able to do what I’m about to do?”

That same challenge, months later—but now, she knew exactly what it meant.

Her lips parted. “Try me,” she whispered, never one to back down.

Arnav moved the camera, revealing his bare torso, the hotel sheets pooled low on his waist.

Khushi gasped.

His skin was gilded in the dim light, muscles taut as he deliberately dragged the sheets lower, exposing the defined V leading to his manhood. His hand palmed himself through his boxers.

Khushi’s breath stuttered, her thighs pressing together.

“Arnav—”

He smirked, freeing himself from the fabric. His cock sprang free, thick and already hard, pre-cum glistening at the tip.

Khushi’s mouth watered, her fingers digging into the sheets.

“Touch yourself with me,” he commanded, his thumb smearing the wetness over his flushed head.

The slick sound made her whimper.

Obedience.

The glow of the screen highlighted every tremble of her fingers as she obeyed, tracing the neckline of his shirt.

Arnav’s voice was rough, possessive. “Slow. I want to see you.”

Khushi set the phone against her pillow, angling it so he could see everything. The way his shirt rode up her thighs, the bare skin of her legs, the rise and fall of her chest with every shaky breath. Her skin burned under his gaze.

“Arnav…” His name was a whisper, a plea.

His hand stroked lazily, his eyes locked onto her. “Move your hands…lower.”

Khushi’s fingers drifted down, skimming the swell of her breast through the thin cotton, her nipple pebbling under the fabric.

A sharp inhale from Arnav.

“Like this?” she teased, her touch slipping further, dipping between her thighs.

His groan was visceral. “Take it off.”

With shaky hands, she obeyed. The camera shook as she lifted the shirt, moonlight spilling over her bare skin—her flushed breasts, the curve of her waist, the desperate clench of her thighs.

Arnav’s growl sent a shock of heat straight to her core.

“Fuuuck, Khushi—” His hand tightened around his cock, holding himself back from spilling just at the sight of her.

She whimpered, her fingers slipping beneath her panties, finding herself already soaked.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

She did—her wide eyes meeting his darkened gaze as she circled her clit, mimicking the rhythm he used on her.

Arnav threw his head back, his hips jerking.

“I wish you were here,” Khushi gasped, her back arching. “I wish you were touching me.”

“Where?”

Her free hand trailed up her body, tracing her tummy, then moving to her breast, pinching a nipple, just the way he liked. “Everywhere.”

Arnav cursed, his grip tightening. “Take them off. Now.”

She hooked her fingers into her panties, peeling them down her legs before spreading them, her heat on full display for him.

Completely bare. Completely his.

Khushi’s fingers dipped inside herself, her moan high and desperate as she grinded down against herself.

“Arnav, I—I—”

“Tell me,” he growled.

“I’m empty—ahn—sooooo so empty without you.”

His rhythm stuttered, his cock leaking more pre against his stomach. “Fuck—”

She arched, her neck exposed, her breasts bouncing as she chased her release, his name a broken chant on her lips.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, his voice raw with need. “Now.”

And she completely shattered. A shrill cry, her body convulsing, her thighs clamping around her hand as pleasure ripped through her. She was riding her orgasm, two fingers curling to hit that spot Arnav showed her. She whimpered his name, “Cumming Arnaaav.”

Through the haze, she heard his climax—his ragged groan forcing her to open her eyes to see him fall apart. His hips jerked into his hand, cum spilling over his fist as he moaned.

Watching him tipped her over, extending her release—her moan fractured into a gasp as she dragged her fingers out, slow and slick, her breath ragged as she studied them under the dim light.

Silence.

Then—

“Fuck this,” he panted. “I’m catching the next flight back.”

author's note: i've come to deliver on a promise teehee, i hope you liked part 5! heavily inspired by the ANON ask to tie in: main jo karunga, kya tum woh kar paogi?

lowkey want to integrate that into more intense scenes too (maybe? or a similar theme?)

#more smut coming up teehee?#smut with feelings #arnav and khushi #arnav singh raizada #YEARNING #khushi kumari gupta #ipkknd #ipkknd one shot #one shot #smut? maybe #ipkknd ff #smut with a happy ending #phonesex

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mjkinkwiz · 2 months ago

Text

Moonwalk Through Time - Part 8

I look around and quickly realize I am in a dressing room. I make my way across the room and find a discarded newspaper on a nearby coffee table. After scanning the front page I gather that I am in Denmark, Copenhagen to be exact. My eyes scan the heading of the page and a smile touches my lips. It was August 29, 1997, Michael’s thirty-ninth birthday. This also meant that his History World Tour was almost over. I look up when the bathroom door opens and he walks out. I swallow as my eyes slowly rake over him.

“Oh…My…Fucking…God…” I whisper, my mouth hanging open as I see him wearing his famous History tour gold pants. At the sound of my soft voice, he looks up, a bright grin instantly lighting up his face.

“K-Kendra!” He breathes in surprise as he quickly crosses the room to get to me. I stand on my tiptoes, hugging his neck tightly as he wraps me up in his arms. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispers, burying his face into my neck.

I pull back, my hands lacing together behind his neck as I continue to stand on my tiptoes, and I gently tug him down into a slow, deep kiss. Michael hums and moans softly against my lips as we kiss, his hands sliding down my sides before moving down further to cup my ass. I whimper softly as he presses me closer and I feel his growing hardness against my thigh.

I gasp in surprise when he suddenly lifts me up into his arms. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, my ankles locking behind him. My hands slide up to thread my fingers through his curls, which are still loose. I hum softly as we kiss hungrily, a low grunt escaping me when I feel my back hit the wall. My eyes flutter open when he pulls back, only to let out another sharp gasp of shock when he roughly tugs down the top of my dress, along with my bra, exposing my breasts.

My breath hitches, my mouth falling open and my head falling back against the wall when his warm, wet mouth wraps around one of my hard nipples. My grip tightens on his hair, holding him to my chest as he feasts of my breasts. My other hand reaches down to undo his pants, pulling his hard cock from its confines. I freeze, my eyes going wide and a sound of shock escaping me when Michael suddenly reaches down, ripping my panties off of me. I look down in shock at the ruined scrap of lace in his hand before I look back up at him, pouting.

“Hey! I liked those, ya know!” I whine, huffing as he simply smirks, stuffing the ruined fabric into his pocket.

“I’ll buy you some new ones. I wanted a souvenir for my birthday,” he retorts unapologetically, his smirk widening as I blush hotly.

Any further protest I might have made dies on my tongue immediately when he guides his tip to my entrance before he suddenly slams me down over his entire length, my eyes rolling back as I unleash a deep, guttural groan of pained pleasure as he stretches my walls.

“Fuck, Daddy!” I cry out, my chest heaving as my breathing increases, beyond turned on by his urgency.

I whimper when I feel his hand grip the back of my head, tugging it back by my hair. I moan as he dips his head, leaving soft, wet kisses over my neck and along my jawline. I whine as he drags his tongue firmly up the column of my neck before nipping at my chin, a dark chuckle leaving him as my walls flutter around him in response, just like he knew they would. It was clear that, by now, he had learned to read my body, knowing exactly what to do to reduce me to a quivering mess in his arms.

I wrap my arm around Michael’s shoulders, my other hand still threaded through his hair, clinging to him as he begins to fuck me, his hips thrusting hard, deep and fast, showing no signs of slowing down.

“Fuck! Mmm does it feel good like this, baby?” He whispers huskily in my ear before nipping at the sensitive spot beneath it as he continues to fuck me, my back riding up and down the wall with the force of his thrusts.

“Y-Yes, Daddy! Don’t- Unh!- Don’t s-stop, Daddy! P-Please don’t ever s-stop!” I plead through helpless, desperate moans of pleasure.

“I won’t, sweet girl. Not until you cum for me,” He growls as he grips my ass in his hands and begins to fuck me even harder, my breasts bouncing with his movements, causing my hard, sensitive nipples to rub against his clothed chest.

I moan at his words, my fingers tightening in his hair as I roughly tug him closer, crashing my lips over his. We kiss hungrily before I begin to suckle at his bottom lip suggestively. Michael growls, his cock twitching inside me when I nip at his lip lightly with my teeth.

“Are you close, baby? Do you need to cum for Daddy?” He coos softly, his eyes searching mine before he nuzzles my nose sweetly, my senses reeling at his gentle actions mixed with his frantic, almost violent thrusts into my dripping pussy. I let out a sob of pleasure as I nod quickly.

“Unnnh y-yes! P-Please, can I, Daddy?!” I beg through a long, loud moan, his balls slapping loudly against my thighs as he fucks me hard and fast. He growls in approval when I beg for permission, the sound reverberating in his chest.

“Mmm such a good girl, asking Daddy for permission,” he praises as he continues to nuzzle and kiss me sweetly, all the while fucking me relentlessly against the wall. “Yes, Little One. You can cum.”

“Unh th-thank you, Daddy!” I cry out in relief. My eyes roll back in my head as my pussy begins to pulse around Michael’s hard cock as it pistons inside me at a punishing speed. “O-Ohhhh! F-Fuck! D-DADDY!!” I scream his name as I cling to him, shattering in his arms as I cum hard, my juices quickly frothing into a messy cream on his shaft and slowly dripping to the floor.

“Mmm you’re welcome, sweet girl,” he replies, chuckling softly at the completely dazed look in my slightly unfocused eyes, my pupils blown wide from the immense pleasure of my intense orgasm.

I whimper when I feel his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of my ass. I grunt sharply with each snap of Michael’s hips as he chases his own pleasure. My head falls heavily back against the wall, a look of pain scrunching up my face, but all I feel is torturous pleasure as he fucks me through my orgasm, my pussy unbearably sensitive.

“D-Daddy, pleeeaaase!!” I beg through a broken sob before I lean forward, pressing my face into his neck, unable to do anything but hang on for dear life.

It was a wonder he hadn’t killed me yet. I knew that his experience with what was happening was entirely different from mine, as he went months or years without seeing me. However, I was a little scared of what would happen once I returned home. I had a feeling his stamina would be the death of me once he got hold of me permanently, knowing I wouldn’t disappear anymore.

“Sh-Shit, yes! Mmm fuuuuck! K-KENDRA!!” He snarls my name loudly as he suddenly slams his cock inside me hard, burying himself inside me to the hilt. I groan, reaching down to grip my abdomen, feeling his seed spreading inside my fertile womb.

Michael stumbles over to the couch and sits down, holding me as I straddle his lap. I whimper softly as his cock softens and slips from my welcoming heat. I lift my head, kissing him languidly as his hands smooth over my thighs. I press my forehead to his and grin coquettishly.

“Happy birthday, Daddy,” I whisper, nuzzling his nose sweetly, giggling softly when he grins.

“Without a doubt, the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” he teases, chuckling softly when I blush and let out another shy little giggle.

We both fix our clothes, and Michael smirks knowingly when I sit back down on the couch and squirm slightly, now forced to go commando since he had destroyed and stolen my panties.

“You’re so cute,” Michael replies simply, pecking my lips before he tugs me back onto his lap.

I look up when I hear soft laughter and I glare at him. However, the effect is diminished by the obvious freshly fucked look on my face, my curls a mess around my head. I can’t help but let my glare melt into a shy grin when he tugs me back up onto his lap and I curl up against his chest as I hold his hand on my lap, playing with his fingers.

“The tour is almost over, isn’t it?” I ask softly, still looking down at our hands.

“Yes, thank God! I hate touring and I miss Neverland. I can’t wait to be back home,” he replies with a sigh, not seeing the knowing smirk on my face. It was well known by Michael’s fans just how much he hated to tour after all.

I wished so badly that I could stay and watch Michael perform, especially in those fucking gold pants. Unfortunately, the powers that be had other plans. I sigh sadly and sit up, kissing him deeply.

“I love you, Daddy,” I whisper against his lips as I press my forehead to his.

“I love you more, Little One, always more,” he whispers, pulling me back into another passionate kiss until I disappear from his arms.

Moments later I reappear in what looks to be some random alley. I peek around the corner and quickly realize I must be in New York City. I look further down the sidewalk and I notice an extremely long line spilling out of the doors of a store and going down an entire block. I look up and smile when I see the Virgin Megastore sign.

It was evident that I was at the 2001 Invincible album signing event. I sigh sadly, knowing that this meant Michael had gone four years without seeing me.

I make my way down the sidewalk and stand at the back of the line. I probably looked like a crazy person, wearing a short sundress and sandals in New York City in November, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I stand there for hours, the line moving extremely slowly, and more fans had accumulated behind me, making the line even longer.

I breathe a sigh of relief as a couple hours later my section of the long line finally makes it inside the store. Thankfully, I wasn’t cold anymore at least. However, I was getting worried that I would be whisked away before I even had the chance to see Michael. Apparently, I need not worry. Whatever power was behind this, it must know what it’s doing. After almost four hours in line, there are only five people ahead of me.

I blush and look away awkwardly when security guards and other guys in Michael’s entourage notice me. I pretend not to notice their flirty winks and smiles, or how they would stare at me as they lean in and whisper to each other.

I bite my lip, trying to quell my jealousy when I see a girl in skin tight jeans and a pink crop top, a Playboy bunny belly button ring catching the light when she moves. I groan softly, remembering seeing her in the footage of this event. I didn’t think I could stomach watching that in person. However, my heart flutters in my chest when Michael simply gives her a polite smile, asking her name as he autographs her copy of Invincible. Not once does he ask about her belly button ring, or say anything even remotely flirtatious. I want to rip her eyes out when she asks for a hug, but I’m relieved when, instead of walking around the table like he did before, he simply stands, leans across the table and gives her a quick hug before sitting back down.

The girl is ushered away to make way for the next person in line. After a few more minutes I make it to the front of the line. I have to bite my tongue to hold back tears. As handsome as I had always thought him during this time, he looked even better now. He still looked the way he did in 1995. His natural curls were still cut short, much like the way he looked at the MTV VMA’s that year. He hadn’t had anymore work done since the Bad era. He looked rested, healthy and sober, like his more natural self. I bite my lip to hold back a grin as Michael holds a Sharpie in his hand, poised to autograph yet another copy of his album.

“Who can I make this out to?” He asks without looking up, clearly growing tired after doing this for hours.

“Um…Kendra, please,” I reply, biting my lip even harder as his head snaps up quickly at the sound of my voice and the mention of my name. A handsome smile spreads on his lips and I can’t help but return it, my eyes sparkling with mirth.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” Michael replies, winking at me. The guys around him look at him in surprise. They had never seen him flirt with a girl before, and to see him doing so openly was throwing them for a loop.

“Th-Thank you, Mr. Jackson,” I reply, blushing and grinning shyly, just as surprised as the people in his entourage that he was flirting with me in front of so many people. I hold back a giggle when his eyes flash at the way I address him.

Michael smirks, chuckling softly as he autographs the CD before sliding it across the table and giving it back to me. I give him another grin before I turn to walk away. I gasp softly and catch myself when one of the security guards, which had been provided by Sony, pushes me, apparently not satisfied with how fast I was moving.

In a flash, Michael is up and coming around the table, a stern frown on his face.

“Hey! You don’t need to push her! Don’t put your hands on my fans like that,” he says firmly. My eyes widen slightly and a shiver moves through me. I knew he had to be careful, bringing attention to me in public when I was still technically in the past, pretending like I was a fan like any other. However, he wasn’t acting as if I were just another fan. In fact, he looked ready to take the guard’s head off.

“I-I’m sorry, M-Mr. Jack-” the guard stutters, looking a bit scared. It wasn’t exactly a common occurrence to see Michael Jackson of all people looking livid. However, Michael holds up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t apologize to me,” he says, shaking his head, gesturing to me. My eyes widen slightly and I blush, embarrassed by all of this attention. I smile sheepishly when the guard turns to me.

“M-My apologies, ma’am. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that,” he says, looking embarrassed and awkward.

“O-Oh, that- that’s alright. No- No harm done,” I reply, still blushing hotly, wanting this to be over.

Michael winks at me when I look up at him, which only serves to make my blush brighten as I smile shyly. I sigh softly when he pulls me into a hug, under the guise of just ensuring that a fan was okay. I wished I could stay here in his arms, but I knew I couldn’t. He forces himself to let go of me and sits back down, unfortunately still having several fans waiting in line.

I walk away, just browsing in another section of the store. After a while I notice movement in my periphery but think nothing of it. I stop though when I hear someone clear their throat softly beside me. I turn my head, grinning softly when I see Michael standing there, smirking at me.

“Looking for anything in particular?” He asks, still keeping up with the ruse.

“N-Nope, just- just looking,” I reply, pressing my lips together to keep from giggling.

We continue to talk, pretending like we’ve never met, pretending as though he doesn’t know every intimate detail there is to know about me. I was grateful that the MTV cameras were gone by now. However, I can’t help but notice how Bill Bray, Michael’s head of security since he was a boy, keeps looking at me closely. I was oblivious to the fact that Michael had had to come clean about who I was, considering Bill had seen me more than once over the years, yet I always looked exactly the same. He had always assumed Michael was embellishing a wild story, or was just extremely protective of whatever truth surrounded his involvement with me. However, considering it had been seventeen years since Bill had seen me at the filming of the Pepsi commercial in 1984, he began to wonder if Michael had been telling the truth. It didn’t make any logical sense to him, but he couldn’t deny that I looked exactly the same, which should be, by all accounts, completely impossible.

Michael invites me back to his hotel and we are escorted towards the back of the store, where his car is waiting. We slip into the backseat before Bill closes the door. As we pull away, I gasp in surprise as I suddenly find myself in Michael’s arms as he captures my lips in a hungry kiss, his hands all over me, as though needing to prove to himself that I’m really there.

“You’re really here,” he whispers, tears in his eyes as he pulls back to cradle my face in his hands. I whimper softly, tears filling my own eyes at the sight of his.

“I’m here, Michael. I-I’m so sorry it took me so l-long,” I whisper, my heart aching. However, he just shakes his head, smiling through his tears as he presses his forehead to mine.

“Shh, don’t be sorry, sweet girl. I’m just so happy you’re here now. That’s all that matters,” he replies before he presses his lips to mine once more, this time kissing me slowly and deeply, taking the time to relish the feeling again after so long.

We soon arrive at the hotel and Michael gets out of the car. I thank him as he offers me his hand, helping me stand from the car. We’re led through the back and onto the elevator, taking it all the way up to the penthouse suite on the top floor. We step out of the elevator into the main sitting area of his suite. Before I even have the chance to look around I find myself pushed up against the wall with Michael’s lips devouring mine.

I stand on my tiptoes, my fingers buried in his hair as we kiss passionately. We leave a trail of clothes as we undress each other, blindly stumbling towards the bedroom. I gasp when he suddenly lifts me and playfully drops me onto the bed, giggling as I bounce slightly. I bite my lip as I move backwards up to the head of the bed as Michael slowly crawls towards me. I shiver, whimpering as I feel a throb of arousal between my thighs at the look of hunger in his dark eyes.

I lay back, peering up into his eyes as he moves over me. My chest rises and falls quickly as my breathing increases and I reach up, cupping his cheek. I gently pull him down into a deep, languid kiss as his body rests on top of mine. I sigh and moan softly at the feeling of his bare skin against mine. I let out a sound of surprise when I feel him reach for my hands before he pins them above my head. I moan, arching my back and pressing my breasts against his chest as we continue to kiss passionately. My eyes flutter open when he pulls back.

“Don’t. Move.” Michael says, his dark, heated eyes daring me to disobey.

I swallow nervously as he releases my wrists and gets up from the bed. However, I don’t move, keeping my arms splayed over my head obediently. I watch in curious confusion as he crosses the room, rummaging through his suitcase. My eyes widen when he turns and walks back over to the bed, two neckties in his hands.

“D-Daddy, what are y-” I start to ask, but he presses a finger to my lips to silence me as he moves to straddle my waist.

“Shh. You trust Daddy, don’t you, Little One?” He whispers, his eyes burning into mine. I whimper, nodding as I peer up at him.

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” I reply immediately, without hesitation. My instant reply nearly makes him break his stern character, but he simply nods.

“That’s my good girl,” Michael coos softly as he strokes my cheek with the backs of his fingers.

I bite my lip, squirming slightly in both apprehension and excitement as he uses the neckties to secure each of my wrists to the headboard. I look up at them as I tug slightly, testing their strength. I release a trembling breath as I find that I am effectively bound to the bed, and definitely wouldn’t be able to escape my bonds until Michael released me. This knowledge makes the throbbing between my legs grow stronger, my folds completely soaked with arousal.

Without saying a word, Michael suddenly grips my thighs and roughly spreads them wide open. My breasts heave as I pant for breath, my clit swelling with need and increasing the pleasurable ache I feel there. He leans in and begins to trail soft, wet kisses over my thighs. He moves even further, making me whine needfully as he teases my lips, kissing and licking every inch of my pussy except where I desperately need him most.

Finally, after several minutes of this torture, his thumbs gently spread my lips, my swollen clit peeking out from its hood. It takes every ounce of self-control I possess to keep from squirming as he just sits there, staring.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, almost as if in awe. I can’t help but blush. No matter how many times I was with Michael, it never failed to leave me flustered whenever he looked at me the way he was right now.

Keeping me spread open to his gaze, he leans in and slowly drags his warm, wet tongue from my tight opening, all the way up my slit to catch my swollen clit. I gasp and throw my head back, moaning loudly in pleasured relief. He hums softly and wraps his lips around my clit as he pulls it into his mouth, sucking hungrily at the sensitive bundle of nerves to send pleasure rushing through my entire body.

“Fuuuck! Oh Daddy, y-yes!” I cry out as he continues to devour my pussy hungrily, like a man starved. My wrists tug instinctively at my bonds, wanting to bury my fingers in his hair. I whine softly when I am unable to free myself. I buck my hips when he chuckles at my feeble attempt to break free, the sound reverberating through my core.

“Behave, Little One,” Michael hums softly, but there is an edge of warning in his tone. Another shiver runs through me at the thought of what he might do to me as punishment.

“I-I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whine in reply. I wrap my fingers around the ties as they continue to keep me bound to the headboard, gathering my self-control once more in an effort to keep still.

His hands move to grip the backs of my knees and I gasp in shock when he roughly pushes my legs up until my knees touch my shoulders. I blush as he holds me in place, putting every inch of me on display. I throw my head back as a loud cry of pleasure is ripped from my throat. My knuckles turn white from the tight grip I have on the ties. I turn my head, burying my face in my arm as it stretches above my head.

“Ohhh fuck, D-Daddy!” I groan deeply in pleasure as he devours my pussy. Michael growls, burrowing his face deeper into my wet folds. My eyes roll back in my head as constant, uncontrollable moans and whines of torturous pleasure fall freely from my parted lips.

He releases my clit before he suddenly lowers his head further and begins to suck hard at my tight entrance without warning. My wrist jerks against the bonds that are holding me down, my hand having instinctively tried to move down to grip his hair. I whine pathetically when I find myself still unable to break free.

My eyes suddenly go wide, a sharp gasp escaping me when I feel his tongue plunge inside me, thrusting in and out of me quickly. My back arches as I continue to grip the ties. My toes curl in pleasure as my clit begins to pulse, my walls clenching. I begin to pant quickly, my body beginning to tremble as a giant wave of pleasure wells up from deep inside me.

“Unh yes! D-Daddy! O-Ohh my God! DADDY!!” My moans steadily grow louder and higher in pitch until a long keen of pleasure tumbles from my lips. I fall over the edge, my pussy clenching as a warm wave of intense pleasure radiates from my clit. It runs through my veins, overwhelming my entire body with it. My pale skin flushes pink from my cheeks, all the way down my neck and chest, over the swell of my breasts.

My wrists are limp now as they remain bound by the neckties. I lie there, my chest heaving as I pant for breath, trying to recover from one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever felt.

I whimper softly when Michael moves up onto his knees. I breathe a sigh of relief when he gently lowers my sore legs, his large hands massaging them gently. After I regain feeling in them, he wraps my legs around his waist as he leans down, capturing my lips in a deep, hungry kiss. I whine softly against his lips as I try to move my arms again to wrap around his neck.

“D-Daddy, please,” I plead softly as I open my eyes, peering up at him.

“Please what, sweet girl?” Michael whispers as his hand comes up to stroke my cheek.

“Can- Can I touch you now, Daddy?” I ask, my voice still just a breathy whisper.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he coos softly. His eyes stay on mine as he reaches up to untie my left wrist, then my right.

I whimper as my arms drop heavily, splaying over my head, completely numb. I breathe a sigh of relief when he helps me wrap my arms around his neck before he leans down, kissing me deeply once more, his body resting on top of mine. I hum against his lips as I wrap my arm around his shoulders, my other hand coming up to thread through his short curls.

We kiss hungrily as I cling to him, moaning in pleasure as I feel his arms wrap around me, holding me up against his firm chest as he reaches down to guide his tip to my entrance. My eyes flutter open when he pulls back, staring intensely down at me as he slowly slides inside me, giving me every last inch of his cock.

“Oh Daddy!” I gasp, throwing my head back as he buries himself inside me to the hilt. My grip tightens on his shoulders and his hair as he begins to roll his hips, making love to me slowly.

“Does it feel good, Little One?” He whispers, his eyes still burning into my own as he makes love to me, giving me long, slow and sensual strokes. I moan loudly and nod as I continue to peer up at him through hooded eyes.

“Y-Yes, Daddy! Oh p-please, don’t s-stop!” I beg as he continues to pull deep moans from my lips as he takes me.

Michael growls as he leans down, capturing one of my hard nipples between his lips. He sucks at the pebbled flesh as he continues to roll his hips into me. I moan helplessly, unable to do anything but take it. I gasp, slamming my head back on my pillow and my eyes go wide as he suddenly gets up on his knees, and throws my legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck! Oh. My. God. Daddy!” I cry out, each word that escapes me being punctuated by a sudden sharp thrust of his cock, his tip hitting my cervix, causing pained pleasure to radiate through my core.

“Mmm that’s it, baby. Let Daddy make you feel good,” he grunts through gritted teeth as he continues to fuck me mercilessly.

“Unnnh! Oh God, y-yes!” I reply through a high-pitched whine, my nails biting into his shoulder and my fingers tightening in his hair as he continues to fuck me, my breasts bouncing with each punishing thrust he gives me. “Ohh yes, yes! D-Daddy, I- Oh Daddy, can I cum? P-Please, can I?!” I beg unashamedly. However, I let out a sob of frustration when he merely shakes his head.

“Not yet, Little One,” he whispers, his hands gliding over my thighs as they drape over his shoulders. He then carefully lowers my legs, only to turn us in one swift motion. “Be a good girl and ride Daddy’s cock first.”

My eyes are wide as I find myself suddenly straddling him. My eyes roll slightly and I groan at his words as I feel him so deep inside me. I splay my hands over his chest, his hands gripping my hips as I begin to roll my body over his.

“Mmm that’s s-so good, Daddy,” I whisper through a moan as I work his length inside me, feeling his long, thick shaft stroking every inch of my tight, slick walls perfectly.

I lean down, my eyes searching his as Michael peers up at me, his hand coming up to stroke my cheek. My lashes flutter as I lean into his touch before I press my lips to his. I hum softly, kissing him languidly as I continue to roll my hips over him, my hard nipples grazing against his chest. I moan, feeling his hands smoothing down my back and over my ass.

I whimper softly when he grips my cheeks in his large hands. I gasp, going still and stiffening up with fear when I feel the tip of his middle finger teasingly rubbing over my tight virgin hole.

“D-Daddy, what are- what are you d-doing?” I whisper, my body still tense with fear.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweet girl. I won’t do anything you don’t want,” he assures me softly as his fingertip continues to tease my ass. “Do you want me to stop, baby?” I whimper, forcing my body to relax. A trembling sigh falls from my lips and I close my eyes as the tip of his finger gently presses past the tight ring of muscles and I shake my head.

“N-No, Daddy. I-I’m o-okay,” I whisper before a soft, sweet moan is drawn from my lips.

“Good girl. Oh, you are such a good girl,” he praises softly, still stroking my cheeks with one hand as his other continues to tease me.

“Al-Always, Daddy,” I breathe softly. I let out another gasp, quickly followed by a long, guttural groan as Michael slowly slides the rest of his long middle finger inside me.

Unable to help myself, I begin to slide my pussy up and down his cock, effectively riding his finger inside the process as he fills me completely. I throw my head back as I ride him slowly, my long curls in disarray around my head and shoulders.

“That’s it, baby girl. Ride Daddy’s cock and fingers. Make yourself cum, sweet girl,” he moans softly as he continues to watch me take my pleasure.

I whine at his words as his hand moves from my cheek to my hip, helping me ride him faster as my movements pick up speed. My nails bite into the flesh of his chest as I bounce on his cock, my eyes nearly crossing from pleasure as he continues to finger my ass at the same time.

The pressure steadily builds higher and higher, growing more intense. Finally, I suddenly bear down on his cock and fingers, my walls clenching around him tightly as I cum, spilling my juices over his cock as I moan his name in pleasure.

“Fuuuck! Oh, yes! Yes! Daddy!!” I cry out as my skin flushes bright pink once again with the telltale sign of an intense orgasm.

“Good girl, Little One. Such a good girl,” Michael praises as he watches me come undone.

Exhausted, my body collapses onto his chest as I continue to straddle his waist. His arms immediately wrap around me, holding me down on top of him as he begins to thrust upwards, pumping his hard cock deep inside me. His movements soon become desperate and uneven as he chases his own release. After several more thrusts he finally goes still and stiff beneath me as he cums, filling my womb with more of his seed, my pussy dripping heavily with the evidence of our lovemaking, my name a strangled whisper on his lips.

I sigh softly when his cock softens and slips out of me, making more of his seed drip out of me. I rest my head on his chest as I continue to lie on top of him. My eyes close as Michael’s warm hands caress my back, his fingers gently combing through my long, messy curls. I close my eyes when I feel him press a gentle kiss to my forehead before I press my face into his neck.

After a while I pull back just enough to peer up at him, my hand coming up to stroke his cheek. Tears fill my eyes as I look over his handsome face, a soft smile touching my lips. Michael raises a brow, smirking softly before it fades to a frown when he notices the tears in my eyes.

“What is it, sweetheart? What’s the matter?” He whispers, his thumb brushing over my cheek as his eyes search mine. I smile softly and shake my head as I lean into his touch.

“Nothing at all, Daddy,” I assure him softly as my fingertips continue to explore his features almost reverently. “You just look so different now than you did before. You look healthier, happier.”

“I’m getting older,” he says with a chuckle, “but I’m as healthy as I’ve ever been. And I know I have you to thank for that. And of course I’m happy. Knowing that I have you? Knowing that you’re waiting for me and that the woman I’ve loved my whole life loves me just as much as I love her. How could I be anything but happy?” I blush and smile before I close my eyes, whimpering softly as he presses his lips to mine in a soft, sweet kiss.

We stay snuggled up together as we talk. I lie in his arms, wrapped up in a sheet, not thinking about the fact that I could be transported to God knows where or when at any given moment. Right now I was focused on our conversation.

Michael tells me all about his latest album and how it was massively successful, despite the fact that he refused to do a tour to promote it. I was glad that his relationship with Sony hadn’t seemed to sour like it had in my original time. Even more importantly, there was still absolutely no hint of allegations. Michael had not once touched drugs, never needing them as he had avoided the Pepsi catastrophe all those years ago.

His plastic surgery had been kept to a minimum and he only wore enough makeup to even out his skin tone. He looked and seemed better than he ever did before all of this happened, and I was beyond grateful to whatever force had brought us together. I just prayed that it would still be enough. The thought that I would return to 2009, only to find out that it had just been his time, and something else would happen to steal him from me, it was all too much to bear. However, I say nothing about my fears, not wanting him to be plagued with the same troubling thoughts.

We talk and make love for hours before I suddenly gasp, my eyes growing sad as I peer up at him helplessly. I can do nothing to stop it though, feeling myself being pulled away. I kiss him deeply before I pull back, my eyes going wide just before I disappear, only just realizing I was being whisked away to another place and time, which could be anywhere, surrounded by anyone…and I’m wearing nothing but a sheet.

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that-tmr-girl · 1 month ago

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Softer Pain {Teresa x Aris x Reader Smut, Part 2}

After escaping, you finally get taken to bed right.

3,561 words

Voyeurism, fingering, oral, vaginal, praise kink

A light shone in your eyes, making them flutter open. Squinting, you made out the outlines of two people. Running your hands over your face, when your vision was back you found yourself staring at your captors, their clothes now on.

“Can we touch you?”Teresa asked gently. When you nodded, Aris walked over, picking you up and essentially cradling you. Resting your head on his chest, you let him sit you down against the wall.

With the shirt they had managed to find, she started wiping your legs, making you wince.

“Would you like to do it?”She offered. As you shook your head no, she gave you a small smile before continuing as lightly as you could.

Taking your face in his hands, he wiped the tears streaks, looking at you the same soft way Teresa had. A way that made your heart race faster as you had to hold back a grin. Your eyes glinted with happiness as an unfamiliar but well known feeling ran through you.

Love.

You were deeply in love with them.

That wasn't part of the plan, but not much of life goes according to that.

As she finished, he let go of your face. Moving beside you, she kissed the bite mark on your neck while he did the same, a silent apology.

You couldn't help but wish you could all just kiss. You liked their soft kisses now, and you wanted more, but you wouldn't mind if they lusted for you too. As long as they still cared for you just as deeply.

“We’re sorry. We wouldn't have done that if we didn't have to,”Aris promised, rubbing your shoulder.

You wouldn't mind if they did it again.

“I know,”You nodded.

“We didn't mean it. What we said. We know you're not easy,”Teresa swore.

Not to anyone else but you would definitely be easy to them.

“It's alright now. Kind of. We're just going to need you to trust us one more time. Can you do that?”Teresa whispered in your ear.

“Yes,”You immediately answered. You didn't like the implications of her words at all.

You wouldn't doubt hers though. You wouldn't doubt either of theirs.

“Lift your legs a little?”He requested. When you did as he said, he pulled your panties up them, making you wince for a moment. He gave you a soft, sympathetic look before pulling them past your thighs. Grabbing them, you forced them up the rest of the way, still a little shaky as you did.

“Raise your arms?”

You did as she said this time. Slipping your bra over your head, she reached behind your back, clipping it in place. At the same time, Aris pulled your pants up, zipping and buttoning them.

Pulling your shirt down, she brushed it out for you, her hands lingering for a moment.

You stared at her before holding her wrist. Unbuttoning your jeans, your eyes burned into hers, a silent ask that she touch you.

They exchanged a look, one that made your face warm with regret.

“If you still want it in a few days, we will. Not right now though. Okay? You're still new, and hurt, and were scared. Wait until the feeling calms, and then you can ask again,”She promised.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don't have to be sorry. Alright? It's just not a good idea right now. Not when you're still vulnerable. And if you end up never wanting it again, you can pretend this conversation never happened. Okay?”He smiled.

“Okay.”

You would in fact want it again.

You also did have to trust them again. You didn't want your memories back. Not after WICKED locked you away for what seemed like years, forcing you to relive your worst ones. Altered ones sometimes. The memory of Rachel’s death. The memory of grievers. The memory of your friends being banished.

The memory of Aris and Teresa taking you in a cave.

It was different though. Much, much different.

“Shut up. Shut up while he fucks you,”Teresa demanded, palm clasped around your mouth so hard it was starting to bruise. You squirmed under him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you were held down for them to take.

The technology wasn't perfect though. It would glitch sometimes, showing the truth.

“Do you want this? Do you want us to fuck you?”

“Do you need us to stop, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Oh how you loved the way she called you that.

“I know it hurts, but try and focus on how it feels good too. Okay?”

It hurt. It hurt, and it felt so incredibly good.

“You gonna cum, princess?”

Princess. God, you loved it. You needed it.

WICKED didn't realize the machine was glitching again until quiet moans traveled past your lips, a gradual wetness forming between your legs.

When they did, it was quickly switched back.

“Be quiet for once. I can't enjoy it if you're crying.”

All you could do in the ‘memory’ was sob harder, pained, scared screams leaving you.

“I said shut up!”

And just like that, you were back to silently crying.

You were afraid when you first saw them again. You were confused, still trying to process the reality from what you had been forced to see.

And still, you found yourself collapsing onto Teresa since she was closest, burying your face in her neck as you cried. She tightly hugged you as Aris rubbed your back, all of you wishing that the two weeks had been anything but that. She didn't want to watch what wasn't really her hold you down by your wrists as you cried. He didn't want to watch what wasn't actually him get off to your pain.

The hug was needed though, a reminder that it wasn't real. It would never, ever be real.

So you nodded your head when they confidently said everyone should get their memories back. You knew who they actually were and would go to the ends of this ruined Earth just to lay with them in silence.

That hadn't been what happened. Not at all as everyone but Thomas, Minho, and Newt broke out, finally finding their way to freedom.

Of course they felt bad about how your first time was. While they tried not to make it too terrible, they knew it still wasn't the most preferable.

That's part of why they had no problem accepting when you sheepishly asked if you could all do something together again. They didn't know it was also because you were in love with them, but that would happen eventually.

Finding a room on the berg, they sat you on the bed, her hand on your shoulder and his on your thigh, as they looked at you.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“What do you mean?”You asked quietly.

“She means what do you want us to do first. Oral, fingering, getting off on our thighs, what happened last time? What sounds good to you?”

“I don't know,”You realized, doubting your idea of doing this.

“You think it’d be easier to decide if you saw us do something first, princess? You can just watch and think about it?”He offered.

You nodded your head as you stood. Laying on the bed, she let him climb on top of her, pressing his mouth against hers. Kissing back, she held his shoulders as she moaned against his mouth.

Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he pulled it over his head, throwing it on the ground. Doing the same, Teresa sighed as she let her bra go with it.

Unbuttoning her shorts, he looked at her. When she nodded, he pulled them down, her panties going with them.

Slowly, he trailed his fingertips up her thigh, his eyes burning into hers as he smiled, watching her body shiver. Trailing his hand between her legs, he pushed his thumb against her clit, starting to trace small, slow circles. She softly moaned, closing her eyes.

Biting your lip, you slipped your shirt off, wanting to be ready for them. Grabbing your pants, you did the same, stepping out of them.

Plunging a finger inside of her, he made her throw her head back as she moaned his name. Pumping it, he kept playing with her clit, feeling her get wetter on his hand.

“You look so pretty like that. You look so good when I please you,”He praised, adding another finger, increasing her pace. Arching her back, she moaned louder. “Such a pretty girl. So, so pretty,”He hummed as she clenched around him.

Glancing over at you, he saw you in only your panties, a wet patch between your legs. As your face warmed in embarrassment, you averted your gaze to the floor, biting your cheek to hide your smile.

Turning his attention back to her, he kept going.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum,”She breathed out, eyes rolling back to her head.

“And you're going to look so damn good when you do, babygirl. So, so good.”

Seeming to stop breathing, she finished, her liquids spilling down her thighs past his fingers. Pulling out, he sucked them clean before pressing his mouth against hers, holding her face. Trailing his tongue along her bottom lip, he asked for entrance that she granted. Straddling her waist, he kissed her harder, his tongue grazing hers.

An involuntary sound left you before you covered your mouth with your hand. Hearing it, they looked over, watching you squirm in your spot as you were more and more ready.

“Come on, princess,”He smiled, getting off her to take your hand. Teresa sat by you on the edge of the bed, her hand on your jaw as she looked at you.

“Gorgeous girl,”She whispered, pressing her mouth against yours. You held wrapped your arms around her shoulders as you kissed back, your tongue darting between her parted lips. Moaning, she laid down, pulling you with her. Tangling your hands in her hair, you made out with her until she pulled apart, laying you on your back.

“You want him to kiss you? Hm?”She whispered. When you nodded, he laid on top of you, holding your waist. Crashing his mouth against yours, he instantly had his tongue in your mouth, his kiss sloppy. Moaning, your hips pushed against his clothed cock, making him groan as he kissed you rougher. Only when you were out of breath did you pull apart.

Getting off of you, they both looked at you so sweetly but with more lust, sending chills up your back.

“Can I pick two?”You asked quietly.

“You can pick however many you want,”She assured you.

“Can I have head first?”

“If that's what you want,”Aris assured you.

“It is.”

“Who do you want it from?”

You knew what Aris was like when he pleasured you. You knew he was great at it.

You're sure Teresa is too.

“Teresa.”

Getting off the bed, Aris went to your previous spot. With a mischievous smile, she started tugging on your panties, just barely moving them.

“Teresa,”You breathed out.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?”She asked innocently.

“I want,”You trailed off.

“What do you want?”

“You,”You whispered.

“Yeah? You want me to lick your pussy? Want me to eat you out while you be my good girl?”

You moaned at her words before your eyes widened in embarrassment.

“It's okay. I know you like it. I know it makes you so wet,”She promised, looking at your liquids that were starting to spill out of your panties. A whimper left you at the realization.

“It's okay, good girl. I’ll call you that. I’ll call you anything you want,”She teased, her hand covering your pussy as she lightly rubbed it.

“Teresa? Please? Please take my panties off and fuck me?”You begged.

“Of course, sweetheart. Anything for you,”She promised, practically tearing them off, forcing them past your feet. When they were long forgotten about, she spread your legs before placing her head between your thighs, licking slow stripes up you. You gasped, throwing your head back. Licking up and down you, she looked up at you. Feeling her gaze, you looked down. Between your legs, with her ass out, she licked up and down you, making you whimper.

Grabbing your legs, she forced them around her face as she started playing with your clit, flicking your tongue against it. Letting out a louder moan, you arched your back, biting your lip to muffle your noises. Hearing your sweet sounds, she grinned before plunging her tongue inside of you. Grabbing her hair, you squirmed as you felt the knot inside of you tighten. Grabbing your thighs, she wrapped them around her head, making you scream her name as she was deep inside of you, mouth open as she took in your liquids.

“Gonna-I’m gonna,”You stuttered, forcing her face into you as you pulled her hair harder without realizing. Moaning inside of you, she sent a shock of erotica up you, making you let out a silent, choked scream as you finished.

She kept her mouth open, licking your cum covered cunt. Whimpering, your chest heaved until she pulled away, looking at you as you started to get your vision back.

“You took it well, sweetheart. You took it like such a good girl,”She praised. Your face flushed at the praise, eyes wide in embarrassment. “But don't bite your lip. You sound too good to hide your sounds like that,”She smiled, kissing your lips. You could taste yourself as your own juices were on you, making your heart race in excitement.

Pulling away, she kissed your neck before getting off, letting Aris sit beside you. Sitting up, you looked at him as he put his hand on your thigh.

“Do you still want me?”He checked, rubbing circles on your skin. When you managed a yes, he smiled, pushing your hair behind your ear before kissing your cheek. An action that made you weak in the knees.

“What position?”

“I don't know a lot,”You realized.

“We can do what we did last time, missionary, you could get on top and ride me, you could get on your hands and knees while I take you from behind, doggy style, I could bend you over, or we could both lay down, I’ll push my chest to your back, and have sex with you that way. I promise I’m big enough for any of them,”He listed, adding a teasing smirk and wink at the end that made you smile, exactly like he hoped.

“Can we lay down please? And you can hold me while you take me?”

“Of course I’ll hold you. Always,”He assured you.

Always.

It sent shivers down your spine. The thought that this could turn into something so much more. That maybe they wanted you exactly like you wanted them.

Laying down, you faced your back to him. Getting behind you, he took his hard throbbing dick, already dripping with precum. Pressing his chest completely against your back exactly as promised, he grabbed one of your thighs, holding it.

“Can I move it over my leg? Get a better angle?”He whispered in your ear.

“Yes.”

Placing your leg over his, he kept his hold as he started to nudge into you. Staying still, he waited for you to tell him it was okay.

“I want this,”You breathed out.

Pushing inside of you, he slowly thrusted in and out while pressing kisses to your back. Your face flushed at his soft lips, a small whimper leaving before you bit your lip.

“Remember what Teresa told you? You can make sounds. Alright? You're safe here,”He whispered.

You let yourself moan as he started increasing his pace, one hand holding your thigh while the other went to your pussy. Finding your clit, he started rubbing slow circles, making you grow louder and wetter.

“That feel good, princess? You like that?”He whispered, kissing your shoulder.

“Ye-yes,”You moaned out, eyes half open.

You felt so good around him, even better than last time. You were so comfortable, still a little shy but more sure of how much you wanted it. While you liked it last time, it was obvious you were much more relaxed.

Groaning in your ear, he wrapped his arms around your stomach, starting to increase his pace. Whimpering, your eyes rolled so far to the back of your head you couldn't even see. As you tightened around him, he grunted before fucking you harder, hitting spots you didn't even know you had. Breathing heavily, you pushed against him. Pressing his lips to your neck, he sucked down, moaning against your skin as he twitched inside of you. Squirming, shaking, you cried his name as you came, cumming on his dick. Burying his face in your back, he groaned as he finished inside of you, spilling down your legs.

He could go longer. So much longer. They both could.

You however, did not seem ready for that yet.

As he pulled out, placing your legs back in their original position, you panted, rolling on your back. Your eyes were desperately trying to shut no matter how much you fought them.

“You can go to sleep now. It's okay,”Teresa promised.

“Can't,”You panted, pulling yourself up by your elbows.

“Of course you can. We aren't going anywhere,”He assured you.

“No. I have to,”You trailed off, looking down to avoid their eyes, only to blush as you found yourself looking at your wet pussy, shiny with Teresa's saliva and Aris’s cum.

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to,”She promised, sitting beside you.

“I want to. I just,”You trailed off again.

“What is it, sweetheart?”She cooed, running her fingers up you arm as Aris lightly rubbed your back, making you cover your face. Something they found absolutely adorable.

“Something you want to tell us, princess?”

God, you couldn't live like this anymore. Wanting them so badly but pretending you didn't. You couldn't keep telling them it was only lust when it was so much more.

“I’m in love with you. Both of you. I know it makes me weird, but I can't help it. I just-you both mean so much to me. I feel giddy when you call me sweetheart and princess. I feel like we could be more.”

They both went silent, freezing at the confession. Covering your face with your hands again, your chest ached with embarrassment and what you could only assume was rejection.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no. I just, that wasn't what I expected,”Teresa recovered, sitting up, putting her legs out as she squeezed your thigh.

“Not at all. We just weren't expecting you to be the one to say it,”He explained.

“Expecting?”You whispered.

“Yeah. I knew something was bound to happen, but I figured we would wait until you weren't so new.”

“Is that a bad thing?”You asked hesitantly.

“Not at all. Gives us more opportunity to corrupt you,”He teased, running his hand up your leg.

“You won't corrupt me.”

“Yeah? Wanna bet?”Teresa grinned. Nuzzling your face into her neck to hide your smile, you hid yourself as best you could. Wrapping her arms around you, she pulled you onto her lap. Joining the moment, he moved closer, wrapping his arm around her waist before kissing your back.

“Can we get dressed now?”You whispered in her ear.

“Whatever you want, princess. Whatever you want.”

Life was filled with ups and downs after. Escaping WICKED, fighting WICKED, escaping WICKED again, moving in together, constant affection and sweet words nobody else understood, love making so intense your head always spun after. It was next to perfect.

Already done with work, you and Teresa laid on the bed, legs tangled together as you gazed at each other, whispering sweet nothings until he walked in. Sitting up, you both took in his tired face.

“Today was, god,”He groaned, collapsing beside you both.

“Rough day?”Teresa asked, patting his shoulder.

“I got kicked in the ankle by a five year.”

“Oh?”

“It sucked,”He complained, raising his head to glance between both of you.

“You can't even handle one,”You teased. Sitting up, he sat beside both of you, a hand on each of your thighs.

“I don't mind that we’ll have two five year olds. I just don't want them to kick me.”

“We’ll have to raise them well then,”She shrugged.

“They have an advantage. Three parents instead of two,”You pointed out.

“I know. Here we are with none, and they're getting an extra.”

“Careful now. It might screw them up for life,”He mocked, a perfect impression of people who knew nothing about your lives.

“Well, if someone bothered to pull out,”You teased.

“I wasn't thinking it would actually get you pregnant this time.”

“It did. I guess it takes two to tango. Or three.”

“That doesn't change the fact that you both ending up pregnant from the same night is pretty crazy,”He pointed out.

“You’re happy with that though,”She smiled, taking his hand in hers.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

Life turned out to be absolutely perfect. Unconventional maybe but better than any of you could have ever predicted.

#teresa x aris x reader #teresa x you #aris x reader #smut #smut with feelings #smut with plot #smut with a happy ending #part 2/2 #tmr #the maze runner #tmr smut #teresa maze runner #aris maze runner

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porcelainmortal · 6 months ago

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Several Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tags, @iboatedhere and @thesleepyskipper!

I wasn't sure if I was going to share something today, but this ghost!Henry fic is taking up a lot of space in my brain, so here we go.

That night, Alex picks up takeout on the way home, wondering what Henry would like if he could partake in some Thai food. Alex eats while Henry sits across from him at the table and Alex wonders, not for the first time, how it is that Henry can sit in a chair but a pillow goes right through him. Henry talks about books and studying literature in college. He never mentions the people in his life, except in passing – “My brother thought an English lit degree was frivolous and self-indulgent.” “My best mate majored in business so he could take over his family’s company someday.” – and Alex is careful not to ask, content to listen to Henry ramble on and on in that posh accent that makes his insides curl with interest and arousal. Later, they sit on the couch and watch Bake Off. Henry had no idea it was still airing and was fairly appalled when he found out there’d been a change in both hosts and judges since he’d last watched. As they settle in and laugh about the baking fails and Alex asks Henry to translate some of the thicker accents, Alex realizes how easy this would be if it could be real. If he and Henry could be something. It makes his heart hurt.

Tagging @anincompletelist @anchoredarchangel @blueeyedgrlwrites @bitbybitwrites @cactusdragon517

@caterpills @cricketnationrise @cha-melodius @firenati0n @faketrex

@getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @kiwiana-writes @myheartalivewrites

@onthewaytosomewhere @priincebutt @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow

@tailsbeth-writes @theprinceandagcd @thighzp @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew and as always, an open tag!

#several sentence sunday #ghost!henry #smut with a happy ending #is that a tag?#i'm in my smut phase fr #blame kinktober #also a bit of angst #no way this will be done in time for halloween but also you never know #stay tuned #firstprince

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tojbnuy · 5 months ago

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boyfriend!toji who doesn’t know why but he feels this weird jealousy everytime he sees you meet your friends and greet them all with a big hug. you never did that with him. you relationship was still fairly new to the both of you, but you kissed you fucked you even held hands sometimes when walking around. but, what toji was now realizing, was that he wanted a hug. well, he wanted a hug from You. not a casual little hug, a hug. holding each other. he didn’t know how to broach the subject without sounding needy and like the complete opposite of how he usually acts. he had never cared about this kinda stuff with other people, he’d never experienced it growing up and he thought he could live without it. until you. until you showed him that wanting to be held was normal. he’d been thinking about it for a while until one night, as the two of you got ready for bed it simply slipped out.

‘how come you don’t hug me?’

immediately you stopped plaiting your hair and turned to him with a shocked look.

‘what?’

‘how come you don’t hug me? like when you see your friends or you say bye you hug them. you don’t hug me.’

as soon as he said it he felt stupid. a grown man like him, older than you and he was sat here asking for a fucking hug. what if you turned the question around and said ‘well you don’t hug me’ what would he say? that i’ve never done that before sorry i don’t know how? his thoughts came to a stop when he felt a small hand grab his own larger one.

‘i- toji im so sorry. i’m sorry i didn’t think that was something you wanted.’

fuck now he’s made you feel bad.

‘nah doll you don’t have to say sorry, its nothing let’s just go to bed’

‘no toji please. let’s talk about it.’

you lifted the blanket and made your way over to his side of the bed so you could sit face to face. everything about you was so soft, so kind. such a complete contrast to himself. he was panicking, he didn’t do stuff like this, never talked about stuff like this.

‘honestly toji, i really just thought you weren’t a touchy person. i’m sorry for just assuming especially considering everything you’ve been through,’

‘no please doll. i wasn’t trying to blame you for anything. i just’

his palms were actually sweating, but your face. god your darling sweet face, looking at him like he hung up the stars in sky. like every word out of his mouth meant the world to you. you would wait for him to get the words out no matter how long he took.

‘i don’t know to be honest. you’re right i’m not a touchy person i’ve never really hugged anyone. but i want that. with you. and im sorry, i should be the one to initiate it i just didn’t really know how doll.’ his voice was so quiet, just a rough whisper.

he looked up to stare into your glassy eyes when you leaned in and kissed him. a small whisper of a kiss.

‘can i hug you?’ you said with your lips pressed against his.

he knew you knew he would prefer not to dwell on it.

and then he wrapped his arms around your back so tightly like he was showing the universe just how bad he needed you. he pulled you into his lap and let his cheek fall to your shoulder. he felt your arms wrap around his neck and you fingers stroking the hairs at his nape.

neither of you spoke, you simply sat and held each other and made a silent promise to maintain the closeness from today onwards.

‘thank you for telling me toji. you big baby.’

‘yeah that’s enough. time for bed.’

your giggle was music to his ears.

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kabr0ztrousers · 2 months ago

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Ok hear me out…fem!reader X male werewolf alpha and leader of the pack. The others in the pack have been getting a little too comfortable with reader as they all live together in one giant pack house (it’s just innocent friendship, but alpha doesn’t like the idea that reader might want to leave him for someone else someday, let alone a member of his pack).

So, when he catches reader casually hanging out with one of his pack members again, jealousy and anger over take him and he essentially reminds her and everyone else who she really belongs to by fucking reader in front of them all (free use, cnc, voyeurism, exhibitionism, public sex, whatever works).

He puts her face right up to each of his pack members while he’s fucking her and asks her who she belongs to each time. Maybe at the end she collapses into one of the other werewolf’s laps and they refuse to touch their alpha’s mate after that big show.

In my head its hot and possessive and even more so when everyone else is forced to watch their alpha take on their now good friend.

Thanks!💕

Kabr0z Writes episode 66: Housemates

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: freeuse; exhibitionism; knotting; Dom/sub; enthusiastic consent;

A/N: I'll admit I've been looking forward to this one, hopefully I can do it justice!

As always if you have anything you want to see, be it a new idea or a something completely different please do drop an ask!

#########################################

Your parents weren't keen on you moving out with your boyfriend straight out of sixth form. You doubt very much they'd have let you at all if they knew the reality of your living situation. There were six of you in the tiny flat, cramped together sharing two bedrooms and a pokey living room kitchenette. Tom already lived with his brothers in the hopelessly overcrowded digs. Even so they were his pack, and you weren't going to separate them on your account. Your job was keeping the home of 5 lupines at an acceptable level of organised chaos. Nobody cared about the piles of clothes or the dishes in the sink really, as long as the piles of rubbish didn't get too high and mugs weren't allowed to generate their own ecosystems you were off the hook for rent and bills. Was it the feminist ideal? No. But it meant you had to do maybe two or three hours of gentle tidying a week and got to live for free. Of course, this life of leisure meant you got damn good at your hobbies, mainly video games.

In fact, that's what you were doing when it all kicked off. Tyler, one of Tom's brothers, had made the mistake of challenging you to a best of 3 at your preferred fighting game. That, of course, became a best of 5, then 7, then you stopped counting as you played on through the afternoon. One by one the brothers came home. Tyler was the lanky one, Sam had the white patches on his ears, Ben had the bushy tail, Shaun always smelled of hairgel. The four were lounging on the couch either side of you, hooting and howling as you demolished them each in turn, getting giddy and excited. The room filled with the familiar musk of four young wolves as you stayed on game after game, the stuffy room giving you a sheen of perspiration.

The front door opened to reveal your favourite of the brothers. Tom was home at last, carrying the group's takeaway in both arms. Chinese this week, the smell of sweet and sour battling valiantly against the teenage funk.

You all looked over to him, sweating gently through your clothes, the shirtless wolves panting, your hair pulled back, nipples prominent in your thin shirt.

Tom roared. You saw the look in his eyes as he bounded over to you and swept you off the couch into his arms. You returned his bear hug as he swung you around, and saw his brothers over his shoulder. Lupines don't generally bother with clothes unless they go out, relying on fur for what modesty they cared about, and an innate tendancy to not really care who sees their balls.

The other wolves had definitely been excited, Tyler and Shaun both had the tips of their cocks poking out of their sheaths, while all four of them were grinning and panting.

"You assholes been hitting on my girl?" Tom snarled his challenge to the others "She's my mate! I'll prove it!" He pulled off his jeans before tearing you out of your shorts and clinging top. He was already rock hard, pressing hmself against you.

"I'm all yours, Tom, nobody else's" you buried your face in his fur, holding your lover to you. You know he's just being hormonal, and you'll bet you can get a good fucking out of this "Why don't we go to our room and we can work out some of this worry"

Tom wasn't going anywhere. He hefted you, catching you with one hand on your waist, one supporting your crotch. "We're not going anywhere. I'm laying my claim" One of his fingers slipped between the folds of your pussy. You were already wet from being manhandled in front of his brothers, and there's no way he couldn't feel it.

You whispered into his ear "Claim me then, or someone might decide to take a share"

His cock throbbed when you said that. The finger slipped into you as he ground his palm on your clit. You rubbed back against him, silently egging him on as his brothers watched, conscious of the huffing and howling coming from them as their brother worked them into a frenzy. You already felt close, showering Tom's muzzle in kisses and grabbing fistfuls of the fur covering his strong neck. The faster you rubbed yourself on his hand, the harder he got, twitching into your belly, covering your skin with strong-smelling precum as you got yourself off on his finger. He curled his hand, just a little, but enough. The fingertip drove into the top wall of your vagina. Every little move you made caused a needy whine to leak from your mouth even as strands of your sticky-sweet arousal leaked down from you.

He pulled his hand out of you just before you came. You barely noticed, transitioning from rubbing your cunt on his finger to trying to get the thick, leaking, canine cock inside you.

Tom had other ideas. He leant you on the back of the sofa and rolled you, exposing your tits to his brothers before plunging that delicious rod into your pussy. One hand groping your tits, the other rubbing at your clit, he let you come to a wailing climax. Your hands gripped his as you spasmed on the cock holding you up, keeping them at your most sensitive places, guiding him to grope at you as his jaws settled gently on the meat of your neck. He bit down ever so gently, he wouldn't break the skin, but you'd have a beautiful bruise there tomorrow.

Your vision was still blurry from cumming so recently, but you could see the motion of the other brothers, their cocks in their hands as they jacked off,

"Wank if you want, boys" you groaned, reaching your foot out to the nearest one, brushing the end of his cock with your toes "this cunt's got an owner already"

You shouldn't have said that. Or maybe you should.

Tom's thrusts got more insistent, the hand on your tit sliding down to your hip as he pushed you down onto him. The knot was already inflated, knocking at the door of your pussy, too thick to go in without help. You lifted your legs, holding them as far apart as you could while both hands went to either side of your cunt, trying desperately to open just a little more, a little more, a little-

It slid in. You'd never let him rawdog you like this before. It felt so different without a condom around his knot, the precum thickened immediately, spraying harder and faster as you whined and moaned, twisting your body this way and that around the bulbous intrusion in your pussy formatting your brain.

Your clit throbbed, your belly tightened, your legs spasmed. You couldn't help but to tug on your nipples as Tom rolled your clit between his fingers. You moaned between gasps, the potent cum sure to knock you up - god you hoped so

Shaun howled into the air, his cock spasming in his hands, squirting out cum.

Tom wheeled you to him, pushing your face into his "Whose mate is this?"

"Yours" Shaun didn't meet your eyes, crossed and glazed as they were "She's yours, Tommy"

Tyler was next on the sofa "Whose is she?"

Tyler gulped "She's yours, all yours"

Ben was next, slowly squeezing his cock in one hand, "She's yours, Tom, no sweat"

Sam came last, his hands already slick with his own cum, lying back on the sofa. He just waved his hand and hummed his submission to the alpha wolf filling you with seed.

Tom seemed satisfied with this. "Whose are you?" He whispered to you as you felt like your brain was leaking out of your ears "Who owns your cunt?"

"You do, I'm yours" you could only just groan out the words as he filled you with bliss

He sat down on the middle of the sofa, grabbing the forgotten meal as he moved, still stuck in you "Right, who wanted the spare ribs?"

You later learned that what happened that afternoon was something akin to a marriage proposal. Of course, now you're formally owned, there's no competition for you, so if he wanted to share you with the pack...

You're pretty sure you'd be down for that

######################################

If I run out of requests, I'm definitely going to make a part 2 to this where the reader gets passed around the pack and fucked senseless again. Freeuse, werewolves, submission and industrial quantities of cum? Yes please.

292 notes · View notes

kooklovee · 2 months ago

Text

HOLD ON TO ME (m) - JJK

Your husband forgets your second anniversary. What starts as disappointment and heartbreak soon spirals into doubt- about your love, your marriage & whether he even sees you anymore. But when Jungkook realizes his mistake, he’s willing to do anything to prove that his love has never wavered..

Can he make it up to you, or is it already too late?

Pairing - CeoHusband!Jungkook x Wife!Reader

Genre - 18+, established relationship au, angst, fluff, smut, some more angst MDNI

ONESHOT - 11k words

Warnings - angsty ride, hurt/comfort, workaholic Jungkook, miscommunication, crying, deep emotional intimacy, slow build, Jungkook is an idiot but trust me he's sweet alright😭, Explicit smut- unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), soft dom Jk, nipple play, lots of kissing, love-making, creampie, pet names <3, praises, happy ending (sad ending's not in my veins🫸)

a/n- snsjkqkw It's my first fic (well more like I've taken the courage to actually post it)🥹 do let me know your thoughts on it <3 n consider a reblog if you like it, thank you for reading! 🫶

Masterlist kofi☕

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The soft glow of the overhead light casts long shadows across the dining room, but its warmth does nothing to chase away the cold emptiness creeping into your chest.

You sit in one of the dining chairs, fingers idly tracing the gold band on your ring finger, the once-familiar weight of it feeling heavier than ever. The house is silent, except for the distant hum of the city beyond the windows.

Jungkook is late. Again.

You’ve lost count of how many nights have passed like this, curled up alone in bed, the space beside you growing colder with each passing hour.

He always has a reason. A meeting that ran overtime, a last-minute project, something urgent that demands his attention more than you do. And you’ve always understood. Until now.

Your second anniversary is just around the corner, and for the first time in weeks, you have something to look forward to. Something that, surely, he wouldn’t forget.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the untouched dinner on the table. It’s the third time this week you’ve set two plates, only to eat alone. The food has long gone cold, but you still can’t bring yourself to clear it away. Some foolish, desperate part of you still hopes Jungkook will walk through the door, pulling you into his arms, murmuring apologies against your skin.

But the door stays closed. Your phone stays silent.

You check the time—almost midnight.

He used to call. Even when he was busy, he always found a way to let you know he was thinking about you. A quick text. A voice note. Something. Now, hours pass without a word, and you’re left wondering when exactly you started feeling like a ghost in your own marriage.

You clench your fists, blinking back the sting in your eyes. This isn’t you. You don’t doubt him. You don’t overthink things. But these days, love feels a lot like waiting, and waiting feels a lot like breaking.

And you’re so damn tired of breaking.

You close your eyes, trying to remember the Jungkook from before, before work took over, before the distance set in. The man who, despite his quiet nature, always found a way to make you feel cherished. He wasn’t one for grand speeches, but his words had always carried weight. Small, simple confessions once meant everything. Now, silence is all you get.

It wasn’t always easy with Jungkook. Back in college, he was cold, reserved, a storm you could never quite predict. But little by little, he let you in. His love had been careful, deliberate, whispered promises in the dark, stolen glances across crowded rooms, fingertips brushing against yours like a secret only the two of you understood.

And now, it feels like you’re losing him.

The thought sends a sharp ache through your chest. You tell yourself it’s just work, that the weight of being CEO is heavier than either of you expected. That he still loves you, even if he doesn’t say it as often.

But love isn’t supposed to feel like this.

The clock hits midnight.

You don’t know what you were expecting. A text? A call? Maybe the sound of the front door unlocking, Jungkook stepping in, exhausted but still managing to hold you close?

But there’s nothing.

Your throat tightens as you stare at the small cake sitting on the dining table, the frosting slightly uneven, the decorations a little clumsy. You were never a good cook. Jungkook knew that better than anyone. But in the early days of your marriage, you had tried. Because back then, cooking together had been something special. Flour-dusted fingertips, shared laughter over burnt pancakes, stolen kisses between stirring batter.

So tonight, with him too busy and too stressed, you thought a quiet, cozy celebration would be enough. Something small, something just for the two of you.

But now, looking at the untouched dinner, the unlit candle, and the cake that no longer seems worth eating, you realize how foolish that hope was.

You glance at your phone—no messages, no missed calls.

You put away the plates. You put the cake in the fridge, even though you know it’ll probably stay there, forgotten.

And then you crawl into bed alone, wrapping your arms around yourself because if Jungkook won’t hold you, who else will?

----

You stir, feeling the warmth of an arm lazily draped around your stomach. The weight is familiar, and for a moment it feels like everything is okay.

Jungkook is still asleep. Shirtless, his toned chest rises and falls in steady breaths, his face soft in the morning light. His dark lashes cast faint shadows on his skin, and his lips parted just slightly, making him look so much younger, so much more at peace.

You take your time looking at him, memorizing the exhaustion on his face, the faint crease between his brows even in sleep. He must’ve come home late—so late that you hadn’t even heard him.

Still, he’s here. Beside you. And that alone is enough to make something flicker in your chest.

Maybe he’s planned to stay home today.

Of course he remembers.

You can’t help but lean in, pressing a soft, loving kiss against his cheek. His skin is warm beneath your lips, and for a fleeting moment, everything feels like it used to.

Jungkook mumbles something incoherent, his brows knitting slightly before relaxing again. A small, sleepy noise escapes him, and the sound makes you giggle softly.

He stirs, his grip on your waist tightening just a little before his lashes flutter open. His dark eyes, still hazy with sleep, land on you, and for a second, there’s nothing but quiet warmth in them.

"You're up early," he murmurs, his voice thick with drowsiness. His thumb absentmindedly brushes over your waist, a touch so familiar yet so foreign all at once.

You smile, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. "Couldn't sleep much," you admit softly.

Jungkook hums in response, his eyes falling shut again for a moment. He nuzzles into the pillow, his grip on you still firm like he has no intention of letting you go. And for a brief, fragile second, the weight of last night, of the distance, of everything, seems to disappear.

Maybe he really did plan to stay home today. Maybe this morning means something.

Your heart clenches with the smallest trace of hope.

Jungkook lets out a long breath and shifts onto his back, stretching his arms above his head before blindly reaching for his phone on the nightstand. His warmth leaves your side, the air turning cold almost instantly.

You watch as his expression shifts, sleep slipping away as his screen lights up. His brows furrow, jaw tightening ever so slightly.

Then, with barely a glance in your direction, he mutters, "Shit, I need to get to the office."

The hope you held onto so desperately?

Gone.

You blink, your mind scrambling to catch up.

Maybe he's kidding. Maybe this is just one of his teasing games, the kind where he acts all nonchalant just to catch you off guard later. That’s how it used to be. Him pretending to forget something important, only to turn around and surprise you in a way that left you breathless.

So you wait.

You wait for the smirk to tug at his lips, for him to toss his phone aside and pull you into his arms. You wait for him to kiss you insane, to murmur a husky "Happy anniversary, baby," against your skin.

You wait for him to prove you wrong.

But he doesn't.

Jungkook swings his legs over the bed, rubbing a hand down his face before standing up. He moves through the motions—grabbing a fresh shirt from the dresser, checking his notifications again, already half-immersed in whatever work emergency is pulling him away.

The realization settles in. suffocating. He’s not playing. He’s not pretending. He really forgot.

And with that, the last flicker of hope inside you dies.

----

The sound of the bathroom door clicking shut barely registers in your mind. The faint rush of water follows soon after, but you’re still frozen in place, staring at the empty space where Jungkook was just moments ago.

Your fingers grip the sheets as you try to process it, try to make sense of the ache settling deep in your chest.

He forgot.

The thought circles endlessly, refusing to fade. It should be simple, just a mistake, something easily fixed with an apology. But it doesn’t feel simple. It feels like another crack in something that’s already been fragile for weeks.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, the screen lighting up with messages from friends and family. Warm wishes, sweet texts. All reminders of the day that Jungkook should have been the first to acknowledge. And of course, they must have messaged him too.

But you know the answer before you even have to question it. Jungkook has two phones—one for work, one for personal use. And these days, his personal phone sits untouched, collecting dust somewhere in the house while his work phone never leaves his side.

Your throat tightens.

Even if someone did remind him, would he have even seen it? Would it have even mattered?

You swallow hard, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.

Maybe you should say something. Maybe you should remind him.

But a part of you, one that you don’t want to acknowledge—wonders if it even matters anymore.

You push yourself up from the bed, the weight in your chest making it harder than it should be. You don’t want to sit here, waiting for him to remember, waiting for an apology that might never come.

So you move. Just as you step toward the bathroom, the shower turns off. The door opens a moment later, as Jungkook steps out, towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his toned chest.

For a brief second, your eyes meet. He looks at you, blinking away the last remnants of sleep, his expression unreadable. There’s no sign of realization, no flicker of guilt or hesitation. Just the same tired, distracted gaze you’ve been seeing for weeks.

You say nothing. Instead, you walk past him, entering the washroom to go about your usual routine. brushing your teeth, washing your face, anything to avoid the tightness in your throat.

The sound of the sink running is the only thing filling the silence between you.

By the time you step out of the washroom, Jungkook is already dressed for work. His tie is slightly loosened, one hand adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves while the other holds his ever-present work phone. He looks like he’s in a hurry, but that isn’t surprising. He’s been having breakfast at the office for weeks now—always rushing out, always too busy.

Still, you can’t grasp that he’s actually forgotten.

Some part of you still expects him to pause, to turn around and say something. But he doesn’t. He’s focused on his screen, scanning through emails like today is just another ordinary morning.

Your chest tightens. You need to look away before the emotions creeping up inside you spill over. So, you pretend.

You settle at the table, opening your laptop like it’s just another workday. Since you’ve been working from home for the past couple of months, this isn’t unusual—but today, it’s not about work. It’s about avoiding him. About keeping your head down so he doesn’t see the way your hands tremble slightly.

If you act normal, maybe it’ll hurt less. Maybe you won’t break in front of him.

And maybe, just maybe, if you pretend hard enough, you can fool yourself into believing it doesn’t hurt at all.

“Baby, can you help me with the tie?”

His voice is smooth- like every other morning before this one. Like today isn’t supposed to mean more.

You hesitate for half a second before standing up, walking towards him. Your fingers move automatically, looping the fabric, tightening the knot, straightening it against his crisp shirt. You should pull away the moment you’re done, return to your seat, to your laptop, to pretending like everything is fine.

But just as you step back, Jungkook’s hand catches your wrist.

Before you can react, he tugs you closer, his warmth enveloping you as his large hand cups the side of your face, fingers splayed against your skin like he’s memorizing the feel of you. His touch is tender, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek, his dark eyes holding yours for a beat too long. like he’s seeing you, really seeing you, for the first time in days.

Then, he kisses you.

Warm & lingering. Like he actually means it. Like he actually feels it.

“Need it for good luck,” he mumbles lovingly against your lips, his voice deep, hushed.

You blink up at him.

Jungkook pulls back slightly, offering a small smile. “Big deal with the Kims today.”

And just like that, reality crashes back in.

Your mind struggles to process, to understand how he can be like this. How can he kiss you like this and still not remember.

His mind is somewhere else. His thoughts, his focus—none of it is here. None of it is with you.

You force a smile, nodding wordlessly. Because what else is there to say?

----

Jungkook moves around the house, gathering his things- his wallet, his keys. You stay where you are, settled on the couch with your laptop open, pretending to be busy, pretending that your heart isn’t sitting heavy in your chest.

Just as he’s about to leave, he steps toward you, bending down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

Before you can even respond, he’s already halfway through the living room, his focus elsewhere, his steps hurried.

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop it.

You remember a time when things were different. When he used to whine, pout, and nudge you relentlessly if you didn’t say it back right away, just to tease him.

Flashback

The movie playing in the background had long been forgotten, the dialogue drowned out by the soft moans slipping from your lips. The purple neon glow cast dreamy hues across the living room, painting Jungkook’s skin in shades of violet as he moved above you.

His fingers laced tightly with yours, grip tightening slightly as his thrusts grew more desperate.

“J-Jungkook…” you moaned softly, nails digging into his hand.

He groaned against your neck, his breath hot, voice wrecked. “Fuck, baby…”

Your body arched beneath him, pleasure building to something uncontrollable. “I—I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, voice deep and rough, sending you tumbling over the edge.

You both unraveled together, gasping, shaking, holding onto each other like the world outside didn’t exist.

Jungkook pressed lazy, loving kisses all over your face, his lips brushing over your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. “You alright?” he whispered.

You nodded, a sleepy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. But then he just stared at you. A little too long. A little too intensely.

And then, barely above a whisper, like a secret meant only for you—he said, “I love you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, a playful grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you bit down on them, trying to contain your smile. He’d been saying it more often lately, slowly getting used to voicing what he felt.

But when you took a second too long to respond, he groaned dramatically, dropping his head into the crook of your neck like a kicked puppy.

“Say it back,” he grumbled.

“What?” you teased, laughing.

Jungkook huffed, then playfully bit down on your shoulder, just enough to make you squeal.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice muffled against your skin.

Still giggling, you cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “I love you, you big baby.”

His grin was instant, arms wrapping around you as he pulled you even closer, like he could never get enough.

End of Flashback

Now, he just says it in passing. quick, thoughtless, already moving on.

The front door clicks shut, and just like that, Jungkook is gone.

You sit there, fingers motionless on your laptop’s keyboard as the weight of what just happened settles deep in your chest. He forgot. He kissed you, held you, told you he loved you, but none of it was because he remembered.

Is this what your relationship has become?

Work, work, work. Always work.

It’s not that you expect Jungkook to run behind you all the time, to ditch his responsibilities just to shower you with affection. Hell, you supported him through everything- through college, through late nights chasing his dreams, through every stressful moment leading up to him becoming CEO. You believed in him.

But what about your love? Your marriage? Communication?

You’ve been patient. Too patient. more understanding than any normal wife would be. And you know Jungkook. You know he loves you, would bring you the whole damn world if you asked. But then why—why are you beginning to question it all?

Jungkook stepped into the CEO position a few months ago. At first, things were fine. He handled it well, still made time for you. But then… everything became about work. Slowly, then all at once.

You can’t even remember the last time you had truly loving sex. Not that Jungkook doesn’t love you but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. There’s tension in his touch, frustration in the way he moves against you. It’s not the warmth, the desperation to be close to you like it used to be.

Is this how life is going to be from now on?

Sure, you could talk to Jungkook about your feelings. Tell him that the distance is starting to feel unbearable.

But when?

When he’s always checking his phone? When he barely even looks at you in the mornings? When you feel like you’re living with the CEO rather than your husband?

Well, happy anniversary to you.

----

Your gaze drops to your hand, to the delicate band wrapped around your finger.

Your wedding ring.

For the first time in a long time, you really look at it- tracing the intricate details, the subtle shimmer in the morning light. And suddenly, it feels… heavier. Like you’re only noticing the weight of it now, as if it’s trying to remind you of everything it once meant.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, your fingers slip beneath the band, sliding it off. It’s only when the cool air brushes against your bare skin that it hits you.

Your breath catches, eyes widening at the sight of the ring resting in your palm. You hadn’t even thought about it—you just did it. And now, staring at the small, beautiful piece of jewelry, something inside you cracks. Tears gather before you can stop them.

Jungkook had spent weeks searching for this ring. Dragged you to countless jewelry stores, analyzing every cut, every design, obsessed with finding the perfect one. And no matter how many times you had told him that anything would make you happy, he had refused to settle for less.

"It has to be special," he had murmured against your temple the day he finally found it, slipping it onto your finger with the softest smile. "Because you’re special."

A broken sob escapes your throat as you clutch the ring tightly in your palm.

How did you end up here?

----

Jungkook leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he watches the final contract details appear on his screen. The deal with the Kims had gone smoothly, better than expected, actually. It should’ve been a moment of satisfaction, of relief.

Instead, he just drowns himself in more work.

The hours blur together, his coffee going cold beside him as he moves from one task to another. Another meeting. Another report. Another email. The same routine, the same cycle.

It’s later than evening when a familiar voice interrupts the quiet hum of his office.

“So you’re really here.”

Jungkook glances up, his fingers still typing as Taehyung steps into his cabin, arms crossed, a deep frown on his face.

“Hey, hyung,” Jungkook greets, barely looking away from his screen.

Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head playfully. “I really didn’t believe it when Yuna said you were still in your cabin.”

Jungkook blinks, confused. “Why?”

Taehyung gives him a look like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Y/N must really love you to let you work even today. My wife—dude, she would’ve killed me.”

Jungkook hums absentmindedly, still typing, still lost in work. “Mmm.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, watching him for a second before letting out a chuckle. “Anyways, you’re still an asshole for working on your anniversary.”

Jungkook’s fingers freeze over the keyboard. The realization crashes into him all at once, like a punch to the gut, like ice spreading through his veins.

Fuck.

Jungkook’s fingers hover motionless over the keyboard.

His mind races to catch up with Taehyung’s words, but they don’t make sense. Not right away.

Anniversary?

No, that can’t be right. His brows furrow slightly as he glances at the date on his laptop screen.

November 22.

His wedding anniversary.

For a second, he just stares, as if the numbers might shift into something else, something that doesn’t prove what an absolute idiot he’s been. His heartbeat picks up, but his body doesn’t move. It’s like his brain refuses to register it fully, like if he doesn’t react, it won’t be real.

He’d forgotten.

Completely.

No hints, no reminders, no last-minute realization before heading out this morning. Just an entire day of emails, meetings, and a deal he had been so damn focused on that he hadn’t even spared a single thought for you.

His wife.

But—no, that can’t be right. He would’ve remembered. He should’ve remembered.

His jaw tightens, his mind scrambling for some excuse, some reason. anything to justify how this happened. But no matter how many ways he tries to twist it, the truth doesn’t change.

You had expected something. Of course you had. And Jungkook had given you nothing.

Taehyung’s voice barely registers now, his casual teasing just background noise to the way Jungkook’s pulse is starting to hammer against his ribs.

His wife. His love. His anniversary.

And he had let it pass him by like it was just another day.

How the fuck is he supposed to fix this?

Taehyung squints at Jungkook, waiting for some kind of reaction. When Jungkook stays quiet, his fingers frozen over the keyboard, Taehyung lets out a sharp laugh.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He leans forward, palms flat on Jungkook’s desk. “You just realized, didn’t you?”

Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Hyung, not now.”

“Oh, no. Especially now,” Taehyung shoots back, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Y/N must really love you to put up with this shit.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, his mind already spiraling. He checks the time—late. The entire day is gone. He’s spent hours sitting here, drowning himself in work while you—

Fuck.

He pushes his chair back abruptly, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket. His coat is next, yanked from the back of his chair as he moves on instinct.

“Whoa, whoa.” Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “So now you care?”

Jungkook levels him with a glare, his voice lower, sharper. “Hyung.”

Taehyung lifts his hands in surrender, though his smirk lingers. “Go. Try not to get divorced on your second anniversary.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for another word. He’s already out the door, moving faster than he has all day.

And for the first time today, work is the last thing on his mind.

----

Jungkook’s mind races as he grips the steering wheel, his fingers tightening with every passing second. The city lights blur past, but all he can focus on is the suffocating weight in his chest.

How the fuck did he forget?

His phone vibrates in the passenger seat- probably another work email but for the first time in months, he ignores it. Instead, he swipes through his contacts, pressing the first name that comes to mind.

“Pick up, pick up,” he mutters, jaw clenched as the dial tone rings.

“Yes, Mr.Jeon?”

“Yuna.” His voice is rushed, urgent. “I need you to get me something. Flowers. A gift. Something big—just—fuck, anything.”

A pause. “Sir?”

“Now,” he snaps.

There’s a shuffle on the other end before his assistant hesitantly speaks again. “I…Mr.Jeon, it’s almost 10 p.m. Most places are closed.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. Of course they are. Because he’s too fucking late.

His grip tightens around the wheel. “Just—check. Call whoever. I’ll pay whatever.”

“Understood,” Yuna replies before hanging up.

What the fuck is he even doing?

No expensive gift, no overpriced bouquet, no last-minute grand gesture can erase the fact that he forgot. That he spent an entire day drowning in work while you—his wife, his love, the woman who has stood by him through everything—sat at home, waiting for him to remember.

His hands clench the wheel.

How much had he missed? How much had he ignored?

And the worst part—the part that makes his pulse spike, that has panic clawing at his ribs is the question he doesn’t have an answer to.

What if you’re done waiting?

Jungkook slams his foot down on the gas.

He’s not losing you. He won’t.

----

Jungkook steps into the house, and immediately, something feels off. The air is still. The silence stretches, suffocating, pressing against his chest. Almost all the lights are off, the space eerily empty, like no one has been here for hours.

His throat dries. “Baby?”

No answer.

He frowns, dropping his keys onto the counter with a sharp clink. His feet move quickly, checking the kitchen, the living room, even the hallway leading to the bedroom. nothing.

A weird feeling starts creeping up his spine. His heart beats faster as he strides toward the bedroom door, only to find the bed untouched, the sheets exactly the way he had left them this morning.

You’re not here.

His pulse spikes, a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck. His hands tremble as he yanks his phone out, immediately dialing your number.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Straight to voicemail.

His stomach drops. A shaky breath escapes him as he stares at his screen, the call log mocking him with the lack of response. His fingers tighten around the device, his mind spiraling.

Where are you? At this time of night, alone- where could you have gone?

The walls feel like they’re closing in on him. His lungs strain for air.

Then, another thought claws its way in, violent and unwelcome.

Did you leave?

No. No. His chest tightens, his breath coming faster now. That’s not—that’s not possible. You wouldn’t just leave him. You wouldn’t—

He swallows hard, shaking his head. Don’t go there, Jungkook. Don’t even fucking go there.

But the panic is already curling around his ribs, suffocating, unrelenting.

You’re not here. And right now, that is the worst fucking thing in the world.

Jungkook’s fingers tremble as he redials your number.

Voicemail. Again.

“Fuck.” His breath comes out uneven, panic clawing at his throat. His hands are clammy, his chest tightening with every passing second. Where are you?

His mind is spiraling now, every worst-case scenario flashing through his head. His jaw clenches as he swipes to his contact list calling your friends.

Each time, the same response.

No, I haven’t seen her.

Did you check with—

Wait, what’s going on?

Jungkook grits his teeth, his hand tightening into a fist. His breathing is shallow, his pulse out of control. You weren’t with your friends. You weren’t picking up. You weren’t home.

And he still had no idea where you were.

Jungkook grabs his car keys with shaky hands, his mind racing. He doesn’t know where to go, doesn’t have a plan. All he knows is that he has to find you.

His feet move on instinct, carrying him toward the door. But just as he reaches for the handle, something catches his eye.

A small glint.

His breath stills. His gaze shifts toward the couch, and that’s when he sees it.

Your wedding ring.

Sitting there. Abandoned.

For a moment, everything stops. The pounding in his chest, the rush of his movements—everything.

The air in the room feels heavier, suffocating. His fingers twitch at his sides as he stares at the delicate band, his stomach twisting into something painful.

You never took it off. Never.

Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He steps forward, slowly, almost cautiously, like touching it will somehow make this nightmare real.

His hand trembles as he picks it up, the cool metal pressing into his palm..

Jungkook stares at the ring in his palm, his vision blurring as a lump lodges itself in his throat. Tears burn at the corners of his eyes, his chest tightening painfully.

You wouldn’t just leave him like that… would you?

The thought alone knocks the air from his lungs. His grip on the ring tightens as his mind spirals, drowning in questions that only make the ache worse.

Were you thinking about this before today?

How long have you been feeling like this, so alone, so unloved that taking off your ring even crossed your mind?

A sharp breath escapes him, shaky and uneven. His knees buckle, and before he can stop himself, he’s sinking onto the floor, the weight of everything crashing down at once.

The ring feels heavier than it should, pressing into his palm like a cruel reminder of everything he’s neglected, everything he’s taken for granted. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling a slow, trembling breath.

He needs to find you. He needs to fix this.

Before it’s too late.

Jungkook exhales shakily, forcing himself to move. His legs feel unsteady, but he pushes through, gripping the wedding ring so tightly it bites into his skin.

Somehow, he manages to stand, his entire body tense with desperation. He stumbles toward the door, his heart pounding, his mind racing with every possibility of where you could be.

But just as his fingers reach for the handle—

The door swings open.

And there you are.

Jungkook freezes, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, everything stills. His panic, his thoughts, his entire world narrowing to the sight of you standing in front of him.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he moves.

He crashes into you, arms wrapping around you so tightly it nearly knocks the air from your lungs. His grip is desperate, his hands fisting into your clothes, his entire body pressing against yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You stand there, stunned, your own arms hovering slightly, unsure of what just happened.

"…Jungkook?” your voice comes out confused, hesitant.

But he just clings to you, burying his face into your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin.

You don’t know what’s going on.

But Jungkook?

He feels like he just got his heart beating again. You feel the way his body trembles against yours, his grip impossibly tight, like he’s holding onto you for dear life.

Then, the sound reaches you. A broken, uneven breath, followed by the unmistakable hitch of a sob.

Your heart clenches. “Kook…” Your voice is soft, laced with worry as you try to pull back, just enough to see his face. But he doesn’t let you. His arms only tighten, his body curling into yours, as if letting go would physically hurt him.

Panic bubbles in your chest, your hands instinctively reaching up to cradle his face, your fingers threading into his hair. “Hey… what happened?” Your voice wavers slightly. “Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

But Jungkook just shakes his head against your shoulder, another quiet, shaky breath leaving him.

You don’t understand.

But whatever this is, whatever’s breaking him like this—your own heart aches just watching him fall apart. Your concern deepens with every shaky breath that leaves Jungkook. He’s still clinging to you, his body trembling slightly, his face buried against your shoulder like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t know what’s wrong, but seeing him like this—Jungkook, your Jungkook—completely unraveling, is enough to make panic rise in your chest.

Gently, you pull back, your hands cupping his face. His skin is warm, slightly damp from his tears, and when his glassy eyes finally meet yours, your stomach twists painfully.

“Come inside,” you whisper, your voice softer now, coaxing. “Please.”

He swallows thickly, nodding ever so slightly, but his grip on you doesn’t fully loosen. You guide him inside anyway, one hand wrapped around his wrist as you lead him toward the couch.

He sits down heavily, elbows resting on his knees, fingers threading through his hair as he exhales shakily. His shoulders are still tense, his whole body radiating something raw and unspoken.

You kneel in front of him, reaching for his hands, but he doesn’t lift his head.

Your worry deepens. “Jungkook… please tell me what’s wrong.” Silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. His fingers twitch against his temples, his breath uneven.

“I—” His voice is hoarse, cracking slightly. He swallows hard, gripping his knees. “I thought you left me.”

You blink, his words settling in, but it takes you a moment to fully process them.

He thought you left him?

Your brows furrow slightly as you shake your head. “Jungkook, I was babysitting Hanuel.”

His breath is still uneven, his hands gripping his knees like he’s trying to ground himself. His eyes flick up to meet yours, confused, searching.

“Hana and Seokjin had a date night,” you explain gently. “They asked me to watch him for a few hours.”

Hanuel, your neighbour's son. Jungkook stares at you, his body still tense, like his mind hasn’t caught up yet. You watch as his lips part slightly, his gaze flickering between you and the ring still clutched in his hand.

His fingers tighten around it, his knuckles paling. A beat of silence passes before he swallows thickly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“…Then why was this on the couch?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, fragile and uncertain, as if he’s afraid of the answer. And for the first time tonight, you don’t know what to say.

“I…” The word barely escapes your lips before you stand up, turning away from him. You can’t meet his eyes, not when your emotions are still raw, not when the weight of everything is pressing so heavily on your chest.

Jungkook notices immediately. Panic flickers across his face, and in an instant, he’s scrambling up after you. “Wait—baby, please.” His voice is desperate now, thick with emotion, his hands reaching out like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, stepping closer, his tone cracking under the weight of his own guilt. “I—fuck, I forgot—I don’t know how, I don’t even have an excuse, but—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head, his eyes glassy as they plead with yours.

“I never meant to make you feel like this,” he whispers. “I swear, I didn’t.” But you still don’t look at him. And that alone is enough to make his heart sink.

You swallow hard, your arms wrapping around yourself as you stare at the floor. His words, his desperation, his guilt—they all swirl around you, but they don’t erase the ache in your chest.

“Do you even realize how much this hurt?” Your voice is quiet, but the weight of it makes Jungkook flinch. “I spent the entire day thinking—hoping—that maybe you had something planned. That maybe you were just pretending to forget.”

Jungkook’s throat bobs as he steps closer, hesitating before reaching for your hand. You don’t pull away, but you don’t hold onto him either.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know I fucked up, baby. I—I was so caught up in work, I just…” He trails off, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not an excuse. Nothing is. I should’ve remembered. I should’ve been there.”

You let out a hollow laugh, finally lifting your gaze to meet his. “Jungkook… this isn’t just about today.”

His brows furrow, but he doesn’t interrupt.

You take a shaky breath. “It’s been weeks..maybe even longer—since I felt like your wife instead of just… someone waiting for you to come home.” Your voice wavers, but you push through. “And it’s not that I don’t understand. I do. I’ve always understood. But at what point do I stop being understanding and start being invisible to you?”

Jungkook’s breath catches, his grip on your hand tightening like he’s afraid to let go. “You’re not invisible,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “You never could be.”

“Then why do I feel like I am?”

Silence.

Jungkook shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he exhales unsteadily. “I never wanted to make you feel this way,” he murmurs. “You are everything to me, baby. Everything. I don’t even know who I am without you.”

Your eyes sting, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “Then show me, Jungkook. Because I can’t keep being the only one fighting for us.” The vulnerability in your voice nearly breaks him.

He’s been losing you, piece by piece, for a while now. And he hadn’t even noticed.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, the weight of your words hitting harder than any argument, any fight you could have thrown at him. His grip on your hand tightens, but you don’t squeeze back.

He’s losing you.

And it’s not because of one forgotten anniversary—it’s because he hasn’t been here.

He swallows hard. “Baby…” His voice cracks, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, but you step back before he can touch you.

The distance, however small, is enough to make his chest ache.

“Tell me, Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice barely holding together. “When was the last time we sat down and had breakfast together? When was the last time you really looked at me—not just kissed me on the forehead before rushing out the door?” You shake your head, a bitter chuckle escaping. “When was the last time we made love without it feeling like you were trying to release your stress instead of loving me?”

Jungkook’s breath hitches.

You let out a slow exhale, your voice calmer now but even heavier with hurt. “I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need fancy gifts or a picture-perfect romance. I just… needed you to see me.”

His entire body feels cold. Because the truth is—he doesn’t have an answer.

He’s been so caught up in his responsibilities, his work, his stress, that he’s let the one person who has always been there for him slip through his fingers.

And the worst part? He didn’t even realize it was happening until now.

“Fuck.” His voice is raw, his hands running through his hair as he looks at you, really looks at you. At the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your lips tremble slightly like you’re holding back everything.

His heart clenches painfully. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you hold his gaze for a long moment before whispering, “I don’t know, Jungkook. Did you?”

Jungkook's breath is unsteady, his chest rising and falling too quickly as he stares at you, at the distance between you, the weight of your words suffocating him.

He moves. Before you can react, his hands are cupping your face, his touch desperate, almost shaky. His forehead presses against yours as he exhales a trembling breath, like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I see you,” he whispers, his voice raw, strained. “I swear to god, I see you, baby. I just..I lost myself somewhere along the way, and I didn’t even realize I was dragging us down with me.”

His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, a silent plea laced in his touch. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your heart clenches, but you don’t push him away. You should- you should make him sit with this, make him feel what it’s been like for you all this time. But then his grip tightens, his voice breaking.

“Please, baby.” His lips hover just above yours, not quite touching, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me it’s not too late.”

His vulnerability shakes you to your core.

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to lose us either, Jungkook,” you whisper. “But I can’t keep being the only one holding on.”

Jungkook shakes his head instantly. “You’re not. You won’t be.” His lips ghost over your forehead before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “Let me prove it to you. Please.”

His desperation is tangible, seeping into every word, every touch. And for the first time tonight, you wonder if maybe, just maybe—he really does see you now.

Jungkook watches you, searching for something—anything in your eyes that tells him he hasn’t completely lost you.

Before doubt can settle in, he takes your hand, pressing it over his chest, right where his heart is hammering wildly. “Feel that?” he whispers. “That’s what you do to me, baby. Always.”

Your fingers twitch against his shirt, but you don’t pull away. You don’t move at all, just staring up at him, your expression unreadable.

He swallows hard. “I know I don’t say it enough. I know I don’t show it enough, but fuck, Y/n—” His hands tighten around yours, his voice barely above a breath. “There is nothing in this world that matters more to me than you.”

You let out a slow exhale, your gaze flickering, like you want to believe him. like a part of you does, but the hurt is still too fresh. So he gives you more.

“I’ll fix this,” he promises, his thumb brushing soft circles over your wrist. “Not with flowers, or gifts, or some last-minute bullshit—but with me. With us.”

His voice drops lower, thick with emotion. “Just tell me it’s not too late.” Your lips part slightly, but you don’t speak. Instead, you finally—finally press your palm flat against his chest, feeling the way his heart beats erratically beneath your touch.

It’s enough to break something inside Jungkook. His grip tightens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your temple, then your cheek—slow, hesitant, as if he’s still afraid you’ll slip away.

And when you don’t, when you let him, he exhales a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours once more.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Like if he says it enough, he can make up for all the times he didn’t. And maybe, just maybe—you’ll believe him again.

Jungkook’s breath is warm against your skin, his forehead still pressed against yours, his grip on you unwavering. His words linger in the air between you. raw, desperate, filled with a love that had always been there, even when he’d failed to show it.

You swallow hard, blinking against the tears clouding your vision. He’s waiting—watching you so intently, so hopelessly, as if your next words will either put him back together or completely shatter him.

You take a shaky breath. “Jungkook…” Your voice wavers, and his grip tightens instinctively. “I love you too.”

A sharp exhale leaves him, his entire body sinking slightly in relief. But before he can say anything, you continue. “But this hurt,” you whisper. “More than you realize.”

Jungkook stiffens, nodding quickly, his hands cupping your face again, his thumbs brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. “I know, baby. I know. And I hate myself for it.” His voice cracks, his jaw clenching before he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

You let your eyes flutter shut for a second, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want promises, Jungkook,” you murmur. “I just… I need to feel like I matter to you again.”

His hands tremble slightly as they slide down, wrapping around yours. He lifts them to his lips, pressing gentle, reverent kisses to each of your knuckles, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“You do,” he whispers. “More than anything. And I’m going to spend every damn day proving that to you.” His voice is steady now. no hesitation, no doubt. Just quiet, determined love. And though the ache in your chest hasn’t fully faded, something shifts.

Because this time, you don’t just hear him. You believe him. Even if just a little.

Jungkook presses another lingering kiss against your knuckles, his touch reverent, as if grounding himself in you. But before he can lose himself completely, you gently murmur, “Have you eaten?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He shakes his head, gaze still searching yours. “No… I—"

“Go freshen up,” you say softly, stepping back just a little. “We’ll eat together.”

His fingers twitch against yours, hesitating to let go, but eventually, he nods. With one last glance—like he’s making sure you’re really here, he pulls away and heads toward the shower.

While he’s gone, you move to the kitchen, setting out dinner in quiet contemplation. The ache in your chest hasn’t completely faded, but there’s something else now- a warmth that wasn’t there before.

----

By the time Jungkook emerges, hair damp, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants, you’ve already placed the food on the table.

He hesitates for only a second before joining you, sliding into his chair. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice softer now.

You nod, offering a small smile as you take a seat. The conversation is light, effortless. Jungkook fills the silence, stealing glances at you like he’s still memorizing you all over again. And through it all, his hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin.

After dinner, he helps with the dishes, working beside you in quiet understanding. The air between you feels lighter, yet still fragile, like something delicate being pieced back together.

Jungkook sets the last dish onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on the towel before turning to you. There’s a soft, almost hopeful look in his eyes, like he’s clinging to this moment.

You step away, hesitating for just a second before opening the refrigerator. Jungkook watches in silence as you carefully pull out the cake, placing on the counter, your fingers grazing the edges of the plate, before finally speaking.

“I…I’d made this.”

The words are quiet, but they hit harder than any raised voice ever could. Jungkook’s entire body stiffening as guilt crashes into him all over again. His eyes flicker to the cake- to the careful details, the effort, the thought you had put into it, for him. And suddenly, it feels like the walls are caving in.

His throat tightens. His fingers curl at his sides. He can’t look at you. He doesn’t deserve to. Tears gather in his eyes, blurring his vision, his heart breaking all over again, not just because he forgot today, but because he had broken you in so many ways without even realizing it.

And that? That’s something he doesn’t know how to forgive himself for.

“Jungkook..”, your voice barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the heavy silence like a knife.

He wants to look at you, wants to say something—anything, but he can’t. His head remains bowed, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, as if holding himself together takes everything in him.

You take a small step forward, the space between you feeling larger than it actually is. His silence is deafening.

“Jungkook,” you say again, a little firmer this time.

His lips part, a shaky breath slipping through, but no words come out. He wants to speak, to apologize again, to tell you how much he loves you, to somehow fix this- but his throat feels tight, his chest heavy.

He doesn’t know if words are enough.

“I… I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice trembling as he finally speaks. His hands shake at his sides, his eyes still glassy with unshed tears. “I’ve been an asshole—a terrible husband. I don’t even know how to make this right.” His breath stutters, his words spilling out faster now, raw and desperate.

“I wouldn’t even be surprised if you left me,” he continues, shaking his head. “You should’ve. You deserve better. I—I can’t believe I—”

“Jungkook.”

You don’t let him finish.

Instead, you reach up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that have already begun to fall. His lips part in surprise, his rambling cut off as you rise onto your toes.

A gentle kiss on his lips.

Soft. Loving.

Tear-streaked and real.

Jungkook exhales shakily against your lips, his whole body melting into yours. His hands find your waist, holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.

The kiss is slow, there's no desperation, no urgency. Just you and him, emotions bare. Tears continue to slip down your cheeks, mixing with his, salty and warm, but neither of you pull away. Because in this moment, there’s no need for words.

Just this.

Just love.

When you finally pull away, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing heavily, your tears still wet against each other’s skin. Jungkook’s grip on your waist is firm, like he’s grounding himself in your touch, afraid to let go. His lips part, like he wants to speak, but before he can, you whisper,

“You’re not a terrible husband, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes glisten with more unshed tears, his lips pressing into a thin line, unable to speak. You wipe his tears away with your thumbs, offering him the smallest smile. “Just… love me better, okay?”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, nodding again, more determined this time. “I will.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you believe him.

You press one last gentle kiss to his cheek before stepping back, glancing at the cake still sitting on the counter. “Come on,” you say, nudging him lightly. “Let’s cut this before it melts.”

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, wiping at his face as he nods. He steps beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours again as you both move toward the small cake. The two of you cut into it together, Jungkook’s fingers lacing through yours around the knife handle. He doesn’t let go, even as you both take small bites in comfortable silence.

Once the plates are cleared, you tug at his wrist, nodding toward the bedroom. “Come to bed?”

Jungkook exhales, relief washing over his features as he nods. “Yeah.”

A few minutes later, you’re both under the covers, warmth surrounding you as Jungkook pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap tightly around you, his breath fanning against the top of your head as he whispers,

“I love you.”

This time, you don’t hesitate to say it back.

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep in his arms, where you’ve always belonged.

Jungkook’s fingers still tremble against your skin. Even as he holds you, his grip is laced with hesitance, a silent fear lingering beneath the warmth of his touch. It’s in the way his hands press into your back yet remain careful, as if he’s afraid of holding on too tightly.

You can feel the erratic thud of his heart beneath your palm, his breaths uneven, his chest rising and falling as if he’s struggling to keep himself steady.

And something about that, about him—makes your own heart ache.

Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your eyes locking onto his in the dim glow of the room. His lips part slightly, his gaze unreadable, but the moment you lean in, his breath catches.

You kiss him.

It starts soft, so gentle, full of longing. Filled with everything you can’t put into words.

Jungkook melts into it instantly, his grip on you tightening, pulling you impossibly closer. The warmth of his lips, the slight hitch in his breath when you press harder. it sends a familiar heat curling through you.

The kiss deepens, your fingers gripping his t-shirt with urgency, needing to feel more. It’s desperate, heady, the space between you charged with something deeper than just want—something raw, something that had been missing for too long.

Jungkook pulls back gently. His forehead stays pressed against yours, both of you panting softly, but his hands shake slightly as they hold you in place.

His lips part, his breath uneven. “I… we shouldn’t…” He swallows hard, voice thick with hesitation. “I mean… I don’t want you to think I’m gonna fix this with sex.”

His words cut through the haze of warmth between you, grounding you both back in reality. You understand. Because even now—even now, he’s afraid. Afraid that this isn’t enough. Afraid that he isn’t enough.

Your eyes soften as you take in his hesitance, the uncertainty in his gaze, the way his breath trembles against your skin.

You reach up, your fingers threading gently through his hair, grounding him. “I’m never gonna think like that, Kook,” you murmur, your voice quiet but sure.

His lips part slightly, his brows still knitted in concern, but before he can say anything, you lean in again. This time, the kiss is softer, filled with nothing but love.

You linger for a moment, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “I just… I need you.” Another soft kiss. “Please.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, his entire body shuddering under the weight of your words.

And just like that, whatever hesitation he had left—it’s gone.

Your breaths grow uneven as your lips move against his, the heat between you intensifying with every passing second.

Jungkook shifts, his body hovering over yours, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel him. His hands slip beneath the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing, his touch still hesitant, fingertips ghosting over your waist like he’s memorizing the feel of you all over again.

But you don’t want hesitation.

You tug at his shirt, a silent plea, and Jungkook obeys without question, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Before he can think, you pull him back in, capturing his lips in another deep, hungry kiss.

A quiet groan escapes him, his hands finally exploring freely, pressing against your skin, feeling the warmth beneath his palms. His lips leave yours only to trail down your neck, his breath warm as he presses soft, lingering kisses there.

You shiver when he reaches the collar of your shirt, your own hands moving to help him remove it. Dark, love-filled eyes roam over every inch of your skin, his lips parting slightly, as if he’s trying to find the words but nothing he could say would ever be enough. Still, he tries.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “So fucking perfect.”

Your breath catches when he lowers himself again, his lips planting soft, reverent kisses along your collarbone, trailing lower over your shoulder, your chest. Your husband's mouth mapping you like you’re something sacred.

His lips slowly wrap around one breast, his tongue flicking teasingly before sucking softly. A moan escapes you, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging lightly as he hums against your skin. His other hand moves to your neglected breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak as he keeps mouthing sweet nothings against you.

“You’re everything,” he whispers between kisses, his voice muffled against your skin. “I love you so much, baby.”

And as the heat between you builds, his touch grows bolder. A desperate whimper escapes your lips as your fingers tangle deeper into Jungkook’s hair, your body arching toward him, silently pleading for more.

He groans against your skin, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you. “Patience, baby,” he murmurs, pressing another lingering kiss to your chest before trailing lower, his lips tracing the curves of your body. “Let me take my time… let me make love to you.”

The way he says it, love—makes your stomach tighten, your heart aching as much as your body craves him. His hands glide down your waist, slow and purposeful, before slipping between your legs. His fingers find the damp fabric of your panties, pressing just lightly enough to make you gasp. Your hips lift instinctively, chasing his touch, and Jungkook groans at the feeling.

His dark eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, unable to form words, and that’s all he needs.

Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he tugs your panties down, dragging them slowly along your legs before discarding them somewhere behind him. His gaze never leaves you as he lowers himself further, trailing kisses down your stomach, over the sensitive skin of your hips.

He settles between your legs. You feel completely bare under his intense gaze, the way his lips part slightly, his eyes darkening as he drinks you in.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with something reverent, something devoted. His hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs brushing along your skin in slow, soothing circles.

“My wife.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, making your core clench in anticipation.

Finally, he closes his mouth around you. One long, slow stroke of his tongue, and you fall apart instantly, a breathless moan slipping from your lips as your head tilts back against the pillows.

Jungkook hums against you, pleased, his hands gripping your thighs as he licks another slow, teasing stripe through your folds. “So fucking sweet,” he groans, the heat of his breath against your slick skin making your body tremble. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

He isn't just making love, he's devouring you.

Jungkook hums against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue moves with slow, deliberate strokes. learning you all over again, savoring every little gasp and shudder that escapes you.

“Jungkook—” Your voice is breathless, almost pleading, your fingers tightening in his hair, tugging him closer.

He groans at that, the sound reverberating through your core as he laps at you with more purpose. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, testing, before he sucks gently, making your back arch off the bed.

“Fuck—” You whimper, your thighs threatening to close around his head, but his strong hands keep you spread wide, completely at his mercy.

His lips brushing your sensitive skin as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. His lips are slick, his dark eyes burning with desire.

Your cheeks burn, he dives back in, this time with more urgency. His tongue moves in tight circles, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and deeper, firmer licks that have your breath hitching.

One hand slides up your stomach, fingers splaying across your skin before reaching your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers. The combined sensation makes your thighs tremble, a moan tearing from your lips as your hips buck against his mouth.

Jungkook groans, clearly enjoying how responsive you are, his grip on you tightening as he eats you out like it’s his last meal. He flicks his tongue over your clit again, then sucks, harder this time, sending sparks shooting through your body.

“-fuck, Jungkook—” Your head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure builds, coiling tight in your stomach.

He pulls back just enough to murmur against you, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

The heat inside you is unbearable now, hot and consuming. You nod desperately, your moans spilling freely as you grip his hair, your body teetering on the edge. Jungkook doesn’t stop. He pushes you closer, his mouth working you over with expert precision, his hands holding you steady as your body starts to tremble.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers against your heat. “Let me taste you.”

And with one final flick of his tongue, you shatter. Pleasure crashes over you, your back arching, thighs trembling as you moan his name like a prayer. Jungkook groans, drinking in everything you give him, his hands stroking your body as he helps you ride it out.

Only when your body goes slack does he finally pull away, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs, his voice thick with pride and adoration. “You’re so perfect,” he breathes between kisses, his voice thick with adoration. “My love. My wife.”

Jungkook moves up, trailing kisses along your body, over your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone. When he reaches your lips, he captures them in a deep, languid kiss, his hands cradling your face like you’re something fragile, something cherished.

Your fingers roam over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles before moving lower, brushing over his abdomen until you reach the hardness straining against his sweats.

A groan rumbles from his chest at your touch, his hips twitching into your palm as you cup him, feeling just how ready he is.

“Baby…” he breathes against your lips, voice thick with want. You tug at the waistband of his pants, wordlessly asking for more. Jungkook obliges, sitting back just enough to push them down, kicking them off entirely.

He’s fully hard, the sight of him making your stomach tighten, heat pooling between your legs again. But before you can do anything, before you can even reach for him Jungkook takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The intimacy of it overwhelming.

His other hand moves between your bodies, guiding himself to your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, searching, making sure-

With a final nod from you, he pushes in, slow and careful, stretching you inch by inch.

A soft moan escapes your lips, but Jungkook kisses you instantly, swallowing the sound, his own groan muffled against your mouth as he sinks deeper. The moment he’s fully inside, he stills, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in. And as he holds you close, as your bodies mold together so seamlessly, you realize- this isn't just sex.

This is home.

Jungkook moves slowly, each roll of his hips deep and deliberate, as if he’s trying to make up for every moment he let slip away. His body is pressed flush against yours, warmth seeping into every inch of your skin, his breath shaky against your lips as he kisses you between each movement.

Your fingers dig softly into his back, nails pressing just enough to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation of him. One hand moves to his hair, your fingers threading through the strands, tugging gently as his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses that make your heart ache.

It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s love.

And then, suddenly, you feel it.

A faint tremble against your body.

Something warm and wet against your neck where Jungkook has buried his face.

Your breath catches as realization dawns- he’s crying. Tears gather in your own eyes without warning, the sheer weight of the moment crashing over you all at once.

You tighten your hold on him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press a soft kiss into his hair. “Kook…” you whisper, your voice barely holding steady.

He shudders at your touch, at the way you hold him, like you’re not just letting him fall apart but falling apart with him.

“I—” His voice cracks as he exhales shakily, his thrusts faltering for a moment. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips find your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he presses kisses there—apology after apology, praise after praise.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs between kisses, his words thick with emotion. “You always have been.” A tear slips down your cheek as you cup his face, guiding him up until his forehead rests against yours.

“I know,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I know, Jungkook.”

His lips crash against yours again, the kiss slow and deep, his movements resuming, gentle but full of something raw, something unspoken. His hands grip your waist tighter, his body moving in perfect sync with yours, as if this moment is rewriting everything.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, voice laced with love. “I’ll always have you.”

Jungkook shudders, gripping you tighter, his lips pressing against your shoulder, his movements slowing but never stopping. You can feel the love in every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath against your skin.

And when the pleasure builds to its peak, you come undone together, your bodies melting into one as waves of warmth crash over you. His name spills from your lips, his deep groan following right after, his arms holding you so tight you swear he never plans on letting go.

Silence lingers, only the sound of heavy breathing filling the space. Then, Jungkook shifts, lifting his head just enough to press the softest kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse but full of devotion. “I don’t deserve you… but I swear, I’ll spend my life proving that I do.”

You cup his face, your thumb brushing away the remnants of dried tears. “Just love me like this, Jungkook,” you whisper, voice steady. “That’s all I need.”

His hands tightening around you as his forehead presses against yours. “I’ll love you more,” he vows, his voice breaking slightly. “More than this, more than anything. Always.” His words settle deep in your chest, warm and real, and when he pulls you impossibly closer, tucking you into his arms, you believe him.

His heartbeat is steady now, no longer frantic with fear. Just warm, solid, home.

As sleep begins to pull you under, you hear him whisper one last thing against your hair.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

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you-have-a-metal-arm · 5 months ago

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JAMES?

pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count : 1.2k

Warnings : Just general fluff

Summary : When you call Bucky “James”—a name no one else dares to use—he reveals to a stunned Steve and Sam.

Authors Note : Hey y’all i’m back!!! Enjoy this fic 🙈

You stood quietly in the doorway, arms crossed as you watched him. His hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his temples, and his jaw was set in that stubborn way it always was when he refused to admit he was hurting. You let out a soft sigh. You hated seeing him like this—so hard on himself, so weighed down by things he didn’t deserve to carry.

He didn’t notice you at first, too lost in his own storm. But you stepped forward, not hesitating for a second.

“James.”

Your voice cut through the room like a blade, soft yet sharp enough to reach him. The sound made him freeze mid-punch, his metal fist stopping inches from the bag. His head turned slowly, his stormy blue eyes locking onto yours. And in an instant, the tension in his shoulders melted. His gaze softened in a way that made your heart ache, because you knew—you knew—no one else ever got to see him like this.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice rough from exertion but laced with something warmer. Something vulnerable.

Steve, halfway through a set of sit-ups in the corner, dropped to the floor in disbelief. “Wait—what?”

Sam, leaning lazily against the wall with a water bottle in hand, nearly spit out his drink. “Hold the hell up,” he said, straightening. “Did she just call you James?”

Steve sat up fully now, wiping his forehead with his shirt and glaring at Bucky like he’d just witnessed a miracle. “She did. And—” his voice faltered as he pointed a finger at Bucky, “—you’re okay with it?”

Bucky glanced at Steve, then at Sam, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. But when he looked back at you, something in his expression shifted. He shrugged, completely unbothered. “Yeah. So?”

Sam’s jaw practically hit the floor. “So? You nearly ripped my arm off when I tried calling you that one time!”

Steve nodded furiously. “He’s not exaggerating. You said, and I quote, ‘Don’t ever call me that again unless you want to find out how fast I can break your jaw.’”

“Exactly!” Sam threw his hands up. “And now she just waltzes in here, says James like it’s nothing, and you’re—what? Cool with it?”

Bucky’s gaze hardened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “She’s not you.”

“Oh, no, we get that,” Sam said sarcastically. “But why the hell is she the exception?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away. His hand flexed at his side—flesh and metal both—but his focus stayed on you, his eyes tracing the curve of your face as if grounding himself. Finally, he said, quietly but with conviction, “Because she’s mine.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Steve and Sam exchanged a look—a mixture of shock, disbelief, and maybe even a little amusement—but neither of them dared to speak.

You, however, raised an eyebrow, lips twitching as you fought back a smile. “Yours, huh?”

Bucky’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, but he didn’t back down. His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Yeah. Mine.”

“God,” Sam muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “This is so disgustingly soft, I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Agreed,” Steve said, though there was a small, knowing smile on his face as he stood up. “You two can have your… moment. We’ll leave.”

As the door closed behind them, you turned back to Bucky, who was already watching you like you were the only thing that mattered. His expression had softened completely now, the rough edges smoothed out into something raw, something real.

“James,” you said again, stepping closer, and you saw the way his shoulders relaxed, the way his lips parted slightly like he needed to hear it just one more time.

“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” you said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of damp hair away from his face. “Come take a break.”

He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face like he was searching for something. “I just… I didn’t want to bother you. I needed to work it out.”

“James,” you said, firmer this time, and his breath hitched like the sound of his name from your lips alone was enough to shake him. “You don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, and his hand—metal and warm and steady—reached up to wrap around yours. He held it there, against his cheek, like he was afraid you might pull away. “It’s not just the name,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “When you say it… it’s different. It feels… good.”

Your heart swelled, and you gave him a small, reassuring smile. “That’s because I love you, James. All of you. Even the parts you don’t think are worth loving.”

His eyes closed briefly, and when he opened them again, they were glassy, like he was fighting to keep the emotions at bay. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop it,” you said gently, stepping closer until your foreheads touched. “You deserve everything. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just held you there, close, his arms wrapping around your waist like you were the only thing anchoring him to the world. And maybe, in some ways, you were.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

“James,” you murmured, brushing your nose against his. “You’re safe with me. Always.”

A soft, broken laugh escaped him, and he pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You’re all I’ve got,” he whispered, his voice muffled but full of emotion. “And you’re all I need.”

You held him there, running your fingers through his hair, and for the first time in a long time, he let himself just be. Vulnerable. Loved. Yours.

Thanks for reading 😁

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tobeholyistobeempty · 1 month ago

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prices version of brat taming / punishment is literally just tying you up, cutting your clothes off calmly and sitting you nice and pretty on his cock as he holds a vibe to your clit. smokes a cigar while you’re squirming and cumming over and over, cock throbbing against your spasming walls with each o but he’s a man of restraint when he needs to be. maybe if you beg nice enough he’ll fuck you through your last few.

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em1i2a3 · 2 months ago

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My Desire

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

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!, Mentions of Past Violence/Blood, Mentions of Stabbing (the reader has a scar from an incident involving Bucky/The Winter Soldier), Swearing, PTSD, Bucky kind of goes through some guilt in this, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Relationship Trope, BDSM Club Mission, Unintended Voyeurism, Mentions/References to Exhibitionism, Smut; fingering, oral sex (fem! Receiving), spitting, some nipple play, handjob, a bit of a praise kink if you squint, a little bit of a pain kink if you squint, P in V sex (unprotected, you know the drill though…Wrap it before going heels to Jesus), Shower Sex . Beefy Bucky is the current squeeeeeeeze if y’all know what I mean.

Author's Note: Wheew, I decided to take the trope of Enemies to Lovers and Fake Relationships to the next level. Ah, I love tropes, especially when you can throw everything and the kitchen sink at it. I did change some contextual stuff up a little bit just to suit the needs of the story. Hope y’all enjoy :) Sorry it took so long to get a new piece out btw, I’ve been studying for a licensing thing and that’s been literally consuming my time!

Word Count: 23,866

Next Part: Girls Like You

The air in the debriefing room was thick and suffocating when you walked in that morning. The night before you had received an urgent call from Maria Hill asking if you could attend a meeting for the next day, you were caught off guard by the request, but you were also curious as to what she was going to assign you, so you had taken the opportunity and agreed.

Maria stood at the front of the room, face flat, unreadable. You could sense there was someone else in the room, noticing one of the chairs was turned away from you, but out of the corner of your eye you could see the slight shine of the all-too-familiar metal arm, only now it was black, shiny, a new model. Your stomach dropped almost in an instant, a deep-seated regret immediately hitting you in the face. The chair turned, and you were met with the cold, desolate blue eyes, and scowl that you had seen on CCTV and up close. He was the shell of someone you once thought you knew.

Bucky Barnes.

He leaned back in his seat with his broad arms crossed over his chest, looking almost as irritated as you. He looked like he had gained a lot more muscle since the last time you saw him, and it was evident just by the way his biceps strained against the fabric of his t-shirt, and how he shifted uncomfortably in the chair he was in, his thighs spreading slightly to try and find a position he felt good in. He had trimmed his hair, it was not instantly noticeable, but when you replayed your last interaction in your head daily, it was easy to recognize the changes he physically made to himself.

“Just the person I wanted to see at 8 am.” He muttered, the words edging with sarcasm, casting a pointed look at Maria. You let out a slow, exaggerated exhale.

”Can’t believe you’re still fucking breathing.” You commented, watching him glance over his shoulder, tilting his head.

”Disappointed?” He asked mockingly.

”Absolutely devastated.” Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

”Yeah, guess we can’t all get what we want.” Your fingers twitched at your sides.

”Oh, I don’t know,” You mused, “Last time I checked, you got exactly what you wanted. A knife through my fucking chest, if I’m remembering correctly of course.” He groaned.

”Can’t believe you’re still going on about that. It’s been two years, sweetheart. Get over it.” You could feel your blood curdling beneath your skin, as you balled your hands into tight fists.

”Get over it? I was hospitalized for almost seven months.” He spun around on his chair to face you, one eyebrow raised.

”And? You’re still here are you not? You scoffed at him.

“Yeah, walking proof that you failed your fucking mission.” `He rolled his eyes.

”Not like I didn’t try to finish the job, remember?” Your jaw clenched at his comment, a phantom pain itching in the middle of your chest, radiating down to the center of your sternum, the exact spot his knife had pierced through, where he had twisted.

“Oh, I remember. Evidently, you do too. You must get off to it.” You spat back, watching as Bucky’s smirk vanished from his face. You could’ve sworn you heard the metal of his hand squeaking when he balled it up in a fist. You should’ve stopped there, but you couldn’t let this one go.

”You must really love replaying it,” You sneered, “The way I was pinned under you, screaming at you to let me go, the begging, and the way you took such fucking pleasure in driving that knife in slow-.” Bucky moved so fast you barely saw it coming. He was in your space in a split second, towering over you, his eyes burning holes through yours.

”You going to keep talking?” His voice was low and threatening, his eyes studying you, looking at the way you didn’t back down and recoil. He could see the fire in your eyes, the rage shaking behind them.

“Oh? Did I hit a nerve?” You said, feigning shock, poking the bear even more, watching his jaw clench.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” He growled, stepping closer, his hot breath now fanning over your face, once again you didn’t move back.

“You may have everyone else fooled with your ‘I was brainwashed by HYDRA, I had no control’ schtick, but you and I both know that’s just bullshit.” Bucky’s metal hand immediately launched out at you, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt, yet you remained still, your breath hitching in your throat. Maria jumped into action quickly, making her way over to the scene.

“HEY!” She yelled, putting herself between the both of you, one hand pressing against Bucky’s chest, while the other pushed against your shoulder, attempting to separate the impending fight before it started. Neither of you broke eye contact, as Maria continued to try to make additional space, “Let go of her Bucky.” She commanded, he didn’t flinch, his grip only tightened more, his ice-cold gaze staring at you.

“You want to start something?” Maria added, “Because I promise you, you will not like how it fucking ends. Now let. Go.” She demanded through clenched teeth. There is a beat of silence that comes up between the three of you, as he slowly unclenches his hand, releasing your shirt from his grasp. You shake yourself out a bit, adjusting your top which had now been stretched from how hard he pulled you, the neckline now hanging loosely on your chest. Maria spun around on her heel, looking at you.

“Do you have a fucking death wish?” She snapped.

“You’re the one that brought him here, what did you expect me to do? Give him a warm welcome?” She let out a frustrated sigh.

“No. I expect you to act like a professional.” She replied, taking a step closer, “But instead you’re playing chicken with someone who can snap your neck like a twig if he wanted to.” You felt your jaw clench at her words, seething at the tone she was taking.

“And what about him?! He’s the one that got physical first.” She shook her head.

“Yeah because you baited him for a reaction.” She shot back, “We have invested a lot of time and effort undoing what HYDRA did to him. But you can’t be surprised when he has a very human reaction when reminded of the things he’s done in the past.” You could practically feel your blood boiling at this point, hearing the condescending tone she was taking.

“Sure. Let’s just keep making excuses for poor little Bucky who’s trying to figure out how to be a person again.” He stiffened at your words, it wasn’t obvious, but you could see the slight shift.

“Well. At least HYDRA made me useful for something. What’s your excuse?” The second the words left his mouth you saw red.

“Okay. That’s enough!” Maria yelled before you could say anything back, before you could retaliate. Bucky watched you carefully, knowing he won that round. Maria dragged a hand down her face, already exhausted from this encounter, realizing it was only going to get worse once she gave a debrief on the mission she needed to assign them.

“Can we all just please…Sit the fuck down now so we can get on with this meeting?” She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. You squinted at Bucky, seeing a smirk come up on his face, as he turned around and returned to his seat, the chair creaking under his weight. You huffed, biting into your cheek while you walked to the other side of the conference table, taking a seat opposite of him, avoiding his eyes which were now watching you.

“Alright…” Maria sighed, grabbing two manilla folders from the front cart near the television, sliding one toward you, and the other toward Bucky. You flipped open the file without hesitation, scanning the contents inside, glancing across from you to see that Bucky mirrored your actions, though you could sense he was not paying attention fully.

Timothy Orkolov was the target's name, aged 48, nationality Russian, known aliases; ‘Red Fang’. A high-resolution CCTV image of him was stapled to the corner of the first page. He was midstride, dressed in a long, navy blue, double-breasted overcoat, and black dress pants, with sunglasses pushed against his face, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His salt and pepper beard was trimmed with precision, and his dark brown hair was slicked back and shiny. He looked like a businessman, that was for sure.

"Orkolov has been on our radar for over two years," Maria began, tapping her fingers against the table, her gaze flickering from you to Bucky, "He isn’t just an arms dealer, he’s a facilitator. A broker of power. He’s connected to corrupt officials, private militias, and underground trade networks spanning across Europe. He doesn’t just sell weapons, he sells wars." You glance up at Bucky, watching his jaw tighten slightly at Maria's brief description.

“Great…So he’s a criminal. Why haven’t you guys sent out agents from your team, why do you need us?” You ask, pushing the file away and sitting back in your chair.

“Because we have already sent in our regular agents. Three times actually. They all ended up dead. Does that answer your question?” You glance over at Bucky, who is still flipping through the file, ignoring the conversation.

“So instead of sending one of your own, you decided it was a good idea to throw us at the problem instead? What are we? Expendables?”You questioned, Maria tapped her fingers against the table, feeling an argument beginning.

“No. You’re necessary. We were able to get both of you on his guest list at his club ‘The Velvet Fang’. That’s one step further than the other times we’ve attempted to get someone in.” There is a hint of familiarity that flashes in Bucky’s eyes, as he pushes the file away as well, you can see behind his stoic expression that the cogs in his head are turning.

“Did you use our real names?” He asked, his voice stern, almost like he knew the answer already.

“Yes…Yes, we gave them your real names.” Maria responded quietly, knowing that she had made a mistake. Bucky scoffs.

“No wonder we got on the list…” He ran his hand over his face, glancing over at you, seeing the confusion in your eyes.

“We needed to establish credibility,” Maria said, her voice choking up, a little on edge, not knowing what Bucky was going to do next.

“You needed credibility,” He repeated, the sharp tone of rage boiling beneath his words, “So you decided to hand our names to him on a silver platter? How could you think that was a good idea?” He questioned.

“We had no other ch-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Maria!” He snapped, turning his anger towards you now, “And how could you not be freaking out about this?!” You looked at him now, shrugging.

“Hey, it’s not a life-or-death situation for me. Unlike you, my name isn’t attached to war crimes, assassinations, and a century-long kill list.” He breathed in slowly, trying to compose himself, attempting to lower his anger.

“Just because you couldn’t stomach your orders and defected from HYDRA doesn’t mean anything. How do you think I tracked you down?” He shot back.

“That has no connection to this. Orkolov wouldn’t want anything to do with me because I’m not a fucking animal, an ex-HYDRA member with no hits is not a hot commodity for people like him.” Bucky sat back, his hands rubbing along his pants.

“Being a passive participant doesn’t stop an arms dealer from using you. It’ll be very easy to get you back into your old programming.” Maria looked over at you, watching as you dug your nails into your palm, your jaw clenching at his words.

“There is no old programming to go back to,” You bit out, “I never completed their training and I didn’t get the chair to try to erase who I was either, so you can stop fucking speaking.” You snapped.

“Okay guys, please…Before I start bleeding out of my ears, can we just get this meeting done?” Maria begged, with exhaustion lacing her voice, digging her fingers into her temples, massaging them slowly, “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.” You leaned on the table, letting out a humourless laugh.

“How much worse could it possibly get? Please. Enlighten us.” Bucky looked over at you out of the corner of his eye, then brought his gaze back to Maria’s, watching her shift nervously.

“You guys are going as a couple.” Silence. Dead, thick, suffocating silence. That’s all that hung in the room for the next couple of minutes. “It’s all in the file.” She added, looking down at her hands. The both of you immediately pulled your folders back to each other and flipped to the very last page, seeing the complete narrative that was devised for the both of you. Former HYDRA operatives. Defected together. Fell off the radar together. And now, resurfacing together.

“So that’s why you couldn’t send me with anyone else but him? You’re using our past as your little fucking token?” You questioned.

“I used it as an in. Orkolov doesn’t deal with outsiders. He doesn’t trust new faces. But a couple; one with a history, one with shared scars, one that understands the same darkness he does—that’s a story he’ll believe.” Bucky let out a sharp breath, the kind that sounded like he was seconds away from either punching a hole through the table or walking out of the room entirely. His jaw was tight, his fingers curling into a fist on his knee before he got up to start pacing.

“Your timelines together added up just right for this plan to even work, we couldn’t risk missing the opportunity.” She continued, as Bucky let out a laugh, shaking his head while he paced back and forth with his hands on his hips and his eyes locked onto the floor.

“Our timelines added up?” You repeated, incredulously, pushing the open file away from you once again, “You mean the years I spent trying to escape HYDRA? The fucking manhunt that followed me? The fact that he spent months trying to track me down and brought me to the edge of my fucking life?” You pointed at Bucky, who stopped pacing at the mention of the past, his body coiled tight, “That was just a nice little convenience for your little story huh?” Maria exhaled slowly.

”I know this is a lot-.”

“No,” Bucky cut her off, “A lot is being sent into a hostile situation. A lot is having our real names handed over to a man who probably wants us to reinstate our old HYDRA roles again.” He motioned between you and himself, his glare was all-encompassing, fury-filled, “But this? This is fucking insanity.” Maria nodded.

“I understand it is, and I’m sorry I didn’t run it by the both of you, but we are in a tight time crunch that you don’t seem to be seeing. A war is brewing, and we need intel to save lives, Bucky. You of all people should know what war does to someone.” The words came out of her without time to process what she was just about to say. You could see Bucky’s body go rigid, his breathing slowing down as if he were trying to calm himself. Maria had just thrown gasoline onto a blazing fire, and she knew it right away. You looked over at her, hoping, and waiting for her to backpedal, to apologize, but she held firm, staring at Bucky.

“You don’t get to use that against me.” Maria held his gaze.

“I won’t do it again…I just needed you to understand the direness of the situation.” He reached for the chair he had been sitting in, gripping the top of it, glancing over at you, trying to gauge what you were thinking, but at this point, you were unreadable, you were spaced out, looking at the table. You already realized there was no choice, and Maria wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

---—————-

“So let me get this straight. You and Bucky, the guy who literally almost gutted you like a fish, are going to fly to Vienna, so that you can attend a party and meet a guy who will probably end up either killing the both of you or recruiting you into his little ring of friends?” Natasha asked, her voice edging with something between amusement and disbelief. She lay sprawled out across your bed, watching you rummage through your closet, throwing shirts, jackets, and pants onto the ground as you attempted to find something that would make you blend into The Velvet Fang.

“That about sums it up.” You muttered, tossing another article of clothing to the side. Natasha let out a low whistle, flipping onto her stomach so she could rest her chin on her palm, a smirk plastered on her face. You looked over your shoulder, seeing her ice-blue eyes studying you.

“So…When’s the wedding?” She asked jokingly, trying to lighten the conversation. You rolled your eyes, stepping over the pile of clothes that surrounded you, and throwing yourself down on the bed with a loud thump.

“Please I am in no mood for your jokes.” You groaned, opening your eyes to stare up at the ceiling, your hands lying flat on your stomach. Natasha hummed.

“No jokes? Damn…This must really be killing you.” You shook your head.

“If it was anyone else I would be completely fine with it, but I can see he’s still unstable. You saw me when I defected from HYDRA, I was an absolute mess, it took me months to undo what they did, and I was only there for a year tops. Bucky had been their fucking plaything for decades, there’s no possible way he’s somehow reformed and completely fine.” You explained.

“So you’re scared he’s gonna snap and try and kill you again?” She asked softly, letting the question linger in the air, watching the way you shifted uncomfortably against the mattress.

“I’m not scared of him.” She arched her brow.

“Let’s not try to deflect the real question I just asked you Y/N.” You broke eye contact with her, not wanting to stare at her observant gaze. She knew you too well. She already had her answers. She just wanted to hear it from you.

“It’s not about him trying to kill me, Nat. We are coming face to face with someone who knows about our past with HYDRA. Who knows how long he has had to try and plan something against us. He knows we’re coming, we are on his list. What happens if Orkolov pushes the wrong buttons, and Bucky just loses it? Who do you think he’ll take out first? Hmm?” You asked, feeling the mattress shift, noticing Natasha getting up and walking over to the pile of clothes, shuffling through it to see if she could find something for you herself.

“If he wanted to, if he still had it in him…He would’ve done it when he saw you this morning. Even after you pushed his buttons he didn’t try to put in the kill shot. If it was Winter Soldier Bucky…You would’ve been a bloodstain on that conference room floor.” Natasha’s words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. You swallowed hard, shifting on the bed, your fingers idly tracing the seam of your sleeve. You wanted to argue, to push back against her calm logic, but you couldn’t. Because deep down, you knew she was right. You sat up on your elbows, looking over at her pulling out a short black dress from the pile that you had overlooked, holding it up to herself for a brief moment before tossing it at you.

“This’ll work.” You eyed it skeptically.

“That thing barely has enough fabric to cover my ass…” She smirked.

“I’m pretty sure people at The Velvet Fang will appreciate it.” You ran your hand over the silky material, a defeated sigh escaping your throat.

“I can’t believe I’m putting myself out on display like this.” You muttered, lying down on the mattress again, a wave of nausea pouring up your stomach.

“You’re not. You’re just going to be a little bit of eye candy. Nobody is going to be hitting on you, especially if you’re with Bucky.” She pointed out. Her words were meant to be reassuring but they only made your stomach churn even more.

“Great…So now instead of kicking him out a window, I need to hide behind him to ignore any advances.” Natasha laughed, crossing her arms as she leaned against your dresser.

“I wish I could be there to see you play the doting little girlfriend, all wrapped up in her dangerous bad boy boyfriend. You’re gonna have to play nice.” You closed your eyes tightly.

“I’m going to throw myself out of the fucking plane while we’re in the air…That’s the only way I could get out of this.”

“C’mon. Now you’re just being dramatic. You should be taking this as an opportunity to let loose a little bit.” You groaned.

“If letting loose is code for committing manslaughter, I will happily let loose.” Natasha sighed.

“No manslaughter. Just try and have fun. You need to be convincing, if you’re looking miserable with someone who you’re supposed to love, Orkolov will immediately know. You’ll have to practice at least a bit so you two can loosen up and look natural.”

--—————————

Natasha’s words were running through your head the entire time you sat across from Bucky in the jet. The cabin was quiet, apart from the low hum of the engines and the occasional crackle of the intercom. You sat stiffly in your seat, looking at the glass of water on the table in front of you, watching the way it vibrated gently. You could hear him picking at the stitches of the leather seat, trying to distract himself, not wanting to say anything to you, but you could feel his presence, like an itch beneath your skin.

Without Maria, the both of you made an unspoken agreement to avoid having a conversation altogether. But now, halfway into the flight, the silence was starting to wear on you. You had avoided his eyes for the entire time, but when you leaned forward to reach for the glass you had been staring at you could hear the noise of his picking halt and his breath hitch. You looked up at him, seeing the way his jaw was clenched, and how he wasn’t staring at your face, but lower.

“What? What did I-” You looked down at yourself and paused, realizing that in the moment you had moved forward you loose zip up sweater did as well, exposing the top of his handy work. The top part was jagged, where he had twisted and applied pressure, almost like he wanted to break your chest open. You swallowed loudly, remembering the taste of blood that flooded your mouth in those moments before quickly straightening the fabric, bringing the zipper up all the way to your neck. The silence between the both of you stretched with fragility, you were expecting him to look away, but he couldn’t. He cleared his throat, and when he finally spoke he was quieter, his tone almost hollow.

”I didn’t…I didn’t realize it looked like that.” His words were uneven, shaky, and it made you pause. He wasn’t just shocked, he was horrified. You could see the way his fingers twitched, the way they dug into the fabric of his pants like he was trying to ground himself. It felt like someone had split his ribcage open and had begun to squeeze his lungs, wringing out all the air.

”Well…I don’t really go out showing it off to people.” You muttered, bringing your feet up to rest on the seat, so your knees were against your chest.

“I don’t remember…” He exhaled sharply, dragging his dark metal fingers through his hair, shaking his head, “I can’t remember doing it…” You hugged your knees closer to your chest, the weight of his words settling between you like a stone at the bottom of a lake. Bucky shook his head again as if he was trying to jog his memory so that he could rearrange the gaps.

”I remember tracking you.” You looked up at him, noticing the hint of frustration that glimmered in the dim lighting of the cabin. “I remember the order. I remember the fight, the way you used everything in your power to get me. You were…Trying to reach for your gun or a pager…Something, I don’t know.” You could feel your throat tighten, as you leaned forward to grab the glass of water, trying to wash down the lump that was forming, “Then I slammed you on the floor…But the moment it happened…It’s blank like someone ripped it out of my head. It’s a black hole.” You traced the rim of the glass. You didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he had done it or the fact that they wiped it from his memory.

“Lucky you I guess.” You whispered under your breath, taking another swig of water, feeling it cool your chest. His eyes narrowed.

”Can’t believe you would say something like that.” His voice was quiet.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You replied, settling the glass down on the table with a little more force than necessary, “You don’t carry it the way I have to.”

“I may not remember what I did to you, but do you really think I don’t wake up every fucking day knowing that there are pieces of me…Of the things that I’ve done…That I can’t even remember or be sorry for? I’d rather remember all of it than have these fucking gaps, where I have no idea who I was, what I did, or who I hurt.” His words sat on your chest. There was a part of you that wanted to lash out at him, to shove all the pain back at him with full force, to remind him that no matter how much he suffered you would never forgive him for what he did, that was just the honest truth. But then there was something under the surface, the haunting look in his eyes, the way he seemed like he wanted to crawl into himself and die…It tugged at the person you once were. That person would’ve seen the man in front of them for what he was now, not for what he had been then, but she was buried beneath the layers of anger, beneath everything HYDRA had done to you both. You ran a hand down your face.

”Look…Bucky.” He lifted his head slightly at you, brows knitting together, “I don’t know what you want me to say. That it’s fine? That I don’t think about it? I can’t lie to you about that.” He swallowed hard, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table, his hands clasping together.

”All I want is for you to know…That I’d take it back if I could, and that…I’m sorry.” The sincerity in his voice unsettled you. It was easier when he was cold, when he was just the Winter Soldier and not the man left in the aftermath. You wanted to hold onto your anger, to clutch it tight like it was your armour, but it was slipping through your fingers like sand. You exhaled slowly, staring down at your hands.

”I know…”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” He said, voice low, “I don’t even know if I’d want you to.” You looked at him, the both of you holding each other’s eyes.

”I don’t know if I can…But I know you mean it.” Bucky held your gaze for a moment longer, like he was searching for something in your face, something you weren’t sure you could give him. Then he nodded, a small, barely-there movement, and looked down at the table between you. You sighed, shifting in your seat.

”We still need to come up with a story that we are going to tell Orkolov if he asks us about our past.” Bucky rubbed the sweat off his palm.

”Yeah…Forgot about that.” He sat back in his seat, tilting his head against the headrest, eyes flicking toward the light above the both of you, “So, where do we start?” You shoved your hands into your sweater pocket.

”We can’t make it too perfect. If it’s too clean, he will know we rehearsed it, and that we’re lying.” He nodded, rolling his shoulders.

”Alright. So, we need just enough truth to give it that believability.” You nodded. He drummed his fingers against his knee.

”We start with HYDRA. Orkolov knows that we both left the place. I don’t know if he knows how much involvement you had in the place but we can keep it vague.”

”We can say I was assigned to intelligence. Data collection, infiltration? Something that didn’t leave much of a paper trail.” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “That’ll also explain why my name doesn’t come up as often as yours, and I won’t have to explain why I really left.” Bucky hummed in agreement, rubbing his jaw as he thought it over.

”That works. They trained you but it was separate from the rest of us. They won’t suspect anything.” You gulped, pushing away the memories before they had a chance to settle into you.

”So how did we end up meeting then?” You questioned.

”When you defected, they sent me after you.” He responded simply, “It’ll explain the scar, and the reason why you’re not dead.” You shifted in your seat.

”Right…Because you hesitated.” A lie, but it was believable. Bucky nodded once.

”Something about you made me stop. I didn’t understand why, and I let you go.” You inhaled deeply.

”And HYDRA dragged you back in and wiped you again, tried to erase whatever it was that made you hesitate to finish the job.” He looked at you.

”But it didn’t stick, and then I found you again.” You swallowed, slowly nodding, glancing down at your hands as you traced the storyline in your mind, fitting the pieces together intricately, patching up whatever holes would be in the story.

”How?” Bucky shrugged.

”I don’t know, maybe I just started remembering things I wasn’t supposed to. Then I knew I needed to find you.” You took a steady breath.

”So you found me…And we made a pact to stick together, then somewhere along the way we got close. We had no one else, relied on each other, and just…Fell into it.” This was all just a cover, a fabrication designed to protect you both. But as you studied Bucky’s face, the way his fingers twitched slightly on the table, the way his throat bobbed with an unspoken thought, you realized just how convincing it sounded, even to yourselves. He cleared his throat, letting out a small cough.

”Yeah, I think that story is easy to sell.” You ran through it together once again, ironing out the little details, and making sure there were no weaknesses. Once you were finished there was only an hour left before you landed in Vienna, and thankfully things had cooled down a bit.

”Alright. So we stick to that story, no hesitations, no second guessing.” He nodded, his fingers tapping against the table.

”And what about the physical stuff?” He asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You looked at him, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed against the table like he was trying to find a rhythm to keep himself grounded. He didn’t like the idea any more than you did, but you both knew it was necessary.

”It has to look and be natural.” You responded, “If we’re stiff or uncomfortable Orkolov will immediately see it. We don’t have to overdo it, but we can’t act like we are business partners either.” You added, taking another sip of your water.

”So, what’s the expectation here? Hand on your back? Arm around your waist? Holding hands? K-Kissing?” He stuttered on the last word, covering it up with a forced cough, his eyes flicking away from you. You could feel the nausea building in your stomach again, as you gulped down the rest of the water, trying to buy yourself time to cool yourself down.

“Touching needs to look natural, with no flinching or discomfort. We can’t force it. We take the opportunities when it feels like the right time.” You paused momentarily, “And kissing will happen only if necessary.” You clarified.

“Right,” He muttered, “Only if necessary.” You shifted again, absentmindedly scratching at the scar on your chest.

”If we don’t think about it so much, we will be fine.” Bucky nodded, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shifting in his seat before looking at you again.

“Maybe we should practice.” He suggested, his voice low. Your eyebrows raised at him, and he realized what he had said, “Not…not everything, obviously, it’s just to get used to it. If we go in cold, it’ll be obvious we don’t know how to act around each other.” You hated that he had a point, it would be obvious if the both of you were looking like you were being held at gunpoint by one another every time you touched, practice was a necessary evil unfortunately.

“Alright. What do you want to start with?” Bucky hesitated.

”Hand holding would be good I guess.” He exhaled, wiping his sweaty palm on his pants before bringing his right hand onto the table, facing it palm up. You shook your head.

”What?” He asked, looking at his hand, then back at you.

“I want the metal one.” He looked down at it.

“It’s vibranium.” He corrected quietly. You rolled your eyes.

”Okay. I want the vibranium one. Better?” He sighed, lifting his left hand up and placing it on the table between you. The dark material shined beneath the light, the small slivers of gold contrasting against the harsh black that lined the entire appendage. You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his. You expected the cool metal against your skin but got something different.

”Do you have a heater in this thing or something? Why is it so warm?” You asked, earning a small laugh from him, your thumb running over the palm of his hand, watching the slivers of gold pulsing when he moved his fingers slightly.

”I had it under my thigh when we were going over our little cover-up story.” He admitted. You raised a brow at him, your lips twitching upward.

”So what? You were preheating it for me?” He shook his head.

”Didn’t expect you to ask for the vibranium hand, so I guess it was just luck.” You hummed at his comment, trailing your fingers up his forearm, feeling the smooth, almost seamless transition between the plates. It was strange how human it felt, despite what it was.

“Can I ask what happened to the other one?” You could feel his fingertips twitch against your skin at the question, and for a moment he didn’t say anything, then he looked up at you.

“Stark blew it off…Back at a HYDRA facility in Siberia.” He responded, his voice flat, unaffected. You were surprised by this anecdote, and you were even more caught off guard that Steve never told you this, not that you ever asked about Bucky, he knew that subject was off limits.

“I didn’t know that.” He nodded.

“Yeah…I did attack him technically so it wasn’t unprovoked.” He admitted, breaking eye contact, “I’m pretty sure it also happened when you were in the hospital so that’s why you weren’t privy to what was going on.” You hadn’t considered that before, how much had happened in the world while you were recovering, piecing yourself back together in a sterile hospital room, drowning in silence while everything kept moving without you. He watched your fingers tracing the small patterns on his arm until you reached his hand again, hesitating for a moment before you laced your fingers between his. Neither of you spoke, you just sat, watching the way your hands fit together, squeezing slightly when adjusting your grips. His fingers closed around yours with a surprising amount of gentleness.

“This is…A little weird.” Bucky admitted.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Neither of you let go, though.

“You don’t have to keep holding it if it makes you uncomfortable.” He muttered, his eyes flickering up to yours.

“It’s not uncomfortable.” You responded, shaking your head. He went to say something, but before he could the pilot got on the intercom.

“We’re approaching Vienna,” The pilot announced, causing the both of you to look up, “Please fasten your seatbelts.” You looked back at him, and with slight reluctance, let his hand go. As the jet began its descent, the hum of the engines shifted, and the subtle change in angle caused your stomach to drop. You adjusted your seatbelt tightly against your stomach, glancing over at Bucky, who was relaxing in his spot, looking totally unbothered.

“Are you always this relaxed when the plane is landing?” You asked, a wave of nausea bubbling in your stomach as you adjusted your grip on the armrest.

“Yeah pretty much. Been on enough planes to know when to start panicking.” A groan escaped your throat, trying to ease the sickness.

“That’s really not helping right now.” Bucky smirked, adjusting himself in his seat.

“What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you we’re perfectly safe?” He mocked, as you groaned again at the turbulence.

“Yes,” You gritted your teeth, “A lie would be great.”

“Alright, alright.” He said, leaning forward slightly, “This is the smoothest landing I’ve ever been on. There’s nothing to worry about. The pilot is probably doing this with his eyes closed.” He whispered, holding back his laughter. You squinted at him.

“That didn’t help either.” You said, squeezing the armrest again. He sighed, reaching his vibranium hand out, and tapping his fingers against the table to get your attention.

“Instead of taking your anger out on the leather…And for practice, since I can tell you’re uncomfortable and a boyfriend would offer some form of comfort.” You let out a small laugh, “And considering you looked less miserable when you were holding it earlier…Thought it would be worth a shot.” Once again the jet moved and your stomach lurched.

“Okay okay!” You exclaimed, grabbing onto his hand, feeling his fingers wrap around yours instantly.

“Are you going to be sick?” You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly. Bucky’s grip was firm but not constricting, the warmth from his vibranium fingers grounding you as you exhaled through your nose.

"Are you sure?" He asked again, quieter this time. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, the small motion doing more to settle you than anything else had so far.

"Yeah, just-" You inhaled sharply as the wheels made contact with the runway, the force of the landing pressing you back against your seat. You squeezed his hand a little harder than you probably needed to, but he didn’t say anything, he just let you hold on as long as you needed to.

When the plane finally came to a halt, the pressure in your stomach eased. You opened your eyes, releasing a slow breath before blinking up at him, seeing his eyebrows were raised.

“You good now?” He asked, his thumb still absentmindedly brushing against your knuckles.

”Mhm…” You exhaled, loosening your grip from his, though you hesitated before fully letting go, “I think I can walk out of this thing without embarrassing myself too much.” He retracted his hand, unbuckling his seatbelt.

”Would’ve been great if you puked all over the runway though.” You shot him a glare.

”Real supportive there Bucky.” You replied, unbuckling your seatbelt as well, standing up from your spot.

”Hey, I held your hand.” He shrugged, a small laugh escaping his mouth.

”I’m going to put that on your fake boyfriend record…Decent under pressure, but D minus for aftercare.” He smirked.

”Duly noted, I’ll be sure to add something to your fake girlfriend record too.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing your duffle bag from under your seat, throwing it over your shoulder.

“Hey hey. No. Hand me the bag.” He protested, causing your gaze to snap to his.

”What?” You questioned, your eyebrows knitting together.

”We have no idea if they’re already watching, I might as well be seen as a gentleman, not a douchebag that lets his partner carry her alarmingly large bag on her own.” You sighed, rolling your eyes but handing over the duffle bag anyways.

”If you start complaining about how heavy it is, I’m taking it back.” Bucky scoffed, effortlessly slinging the bag over his shoulder alongside his own.

“I’ve carried bodies heavier than this.” He responded.

”Wow. How romantic.” You shot back sarcastically, while walking towards the exit of the jet.

”It’s just part of the charm, sweetheart.” You could feel your cheeks heat up slightly at the nickname, as the cold Vienna air washed over your face. The tarmac was quiet, save for the faint buzzing of the airport staff moving around in the distance. Once you had walked down the steps you waited for Bucky before proceeding to the sleek black car that idled at the curb, it’s glossy surface reflecting the warm glow of the nearby streetlights. A man leaned casually against the trunk, arms crossed over his chest. His attire is meticulous; a well-fitted suit, dark leather gloves, and a wide-brimmed hat casting a subtle shadow over his sharp features. He looked extremely professional, though his posture had an air of indifference, like he’d been standing there too long and was ready to be anywhere else. When he had seen the both of you approaching he immediately straightened out, a small smile coming up on his face.

”Mr. Barnes.” He greeted, giving him a nod, “Welcome to Vienna.”

”Thank you.” The driver’s gaze then flickered toward you, as he gave you a nod as well.

”It’s a pleasure to have you as well Mrs…?” Bucky didn’t hesitate.

”Hopefully Mrs. Barnes one day,” He said smoothly, his arm slipping around your waist, fingers resting very lightly at your hip. You were caught off guard by how effortlessly he delivered the line, but you held a casual smile. The driver’s eyebrows lifted slightly, smirking, clearly entertained by Bucky’s response.

”A man with a plan. I respect that.” You forced a laugh, leaning into the act as much as possible.

“Always so charming.” You commented, resting your hand on his rigid abdomen. The driver smiled.

”Well, let’s get you two lovebirds to the hotel then!” He exclaimed, clasping his hands together as he walked towards the drivers side of the car. Bucky’s grip on your waist tightened just enough to remind you of the role you were playing, as he let go, moving to the trunk to put your duffle bags into it. You slid into the backseat, with Bucky following close behind. The leather interior was soft against your back as the both of you settled in, relaxing on your respective sides.

The car eased away from the airport, quickly merging onto the quiet streets of Vienna. The city was bathed in the golden glow of streetlights, the architecture looked regal and timeless against the dark sky, if you weren’t here for a mission you would’ve loved to explore more. The hum of the engine filling the space between you and Bucky. The driver adjusted his rearview mirror so he could look at the both of you.

”So, are you guys celebrating something special?” He asked, his voice casual as he maneuvered the car through the empty city streets.

“Our one year anniversary actually.” Bucky answered without hesitation. The driver let out a whistle.

”Wow, one year huh? That’s always a big one. First anniversaries are always special.” The driver’s enthusiasm was palpable, his grin wide and toothy. “First year of a relationship can always be the hardest they say, what’s the secret to making it?” He asked, glancing back at the road.

”Patience, and knowing when to pick your battles.” Bucky responded. You let out a short laugh at his response.

”That’s very funny coming from you.” Bucky smirked, glancing at you.

”What? You disagree?” You tilted your head, pretending to mull it over.

”Let’s say you have a very selective definition of ‘picking your battles.’” The driver chuckled at the interaction.

”It sounds like the both of you keep each other on your toes.”

“You could say that,” You replied, a playful tone lacing your voice, as you shot Bucky a knowing look.

“That’s how you know it’s real though. You guys can argue, but at the end of the day, you still choose each other.” He paused, then added, “You two planning anything special while you’re here?” Bucky hummed, glancing over at you before responding.

”Haven’t locked anything down yet, but we had some ideas. Sightseeing, going to some top rated restaurants, maybe a little dancing.” The driver nodded.

“Well, if you’re looking for ideas, you picked a great city to celebrate in.” He gestured out the windshield as he made a turn. “Vienna’s got something for everyone. You into history? The Schönbrunn Palace is breathtaking. Art? You can’t miss the Belvedere Museum. Or maybe you want something more intimate, the sunset at the Danube Tower is unforgettable.” Bucky drummed his fingers lightly against his thigh.

”Oh you’ve definitely given us some great suggestions, it’s going to be hard to narrow it down.” You nodded, agreeing with him, the mission still looming in the back of your mind.

”You know…You two remind me of my wife and I when we first started going out.” Bucky raised a brow, glancing over at you.

”Yeah?”

”Definitely,” He responded, his hands steady on the wheel, “Always teasing, making little quips at each other, but at the end of the day there was never any doubt that we were solid.” He turned down another street, “That’s how you know it’s real. When you can drive each other absolutely crazy and you still wouldn’t trade them for the world.” Bucky let out a small chuckle, shaking his head, glancing over at you.

”Well, we’ve definitely got the ‘driving each other crazy’ part down…Don’t we doll?” You wanted to nudge him in the ribs, but you held yourself back.

”Oh yeah. Definitely.” The driver let out a hearty laugh, as the car slowed, approaching a grand hotel. Its entrance was illuminated by the soft glow of golden lanterns, the stairs leading up to the towering glass doors were lined with polished stones, where a doorman in a crisp uniform stood at attention, watching him coming down the steps as soon as the vehicle came to a stop.

”Well, lovebirds, here we are.” The driver announced with a grin as he shifted the car into park, “Welcome to the Imperial!” Bucky exhaled through his nose, glancing over at you, a look of relief washing over his face. He must’ve been itching to get out of the car right when the driver started asking questions. Bucky took his wallet out quickly, handing the man a tip.

“Thank you for the ride.” He said, wasting no time opening the door and stepping out, holding his hand out for you to grab, still trying to keep up appearances.

“Enjoy your stay! And remember, don’t sweat the small stuff.” Bucky leaned down to look at the man.

”We’ll keep it in mind. Thank you again.” He responded politely, closing the door behind him, as the doorman opened the trunk of the car.

“Welcome to the Imperial! I’ll bring your bags in for you, no need to wait for me, you can go and get yourselves checked in.” Bucky gave the doorman a quick nod. You could tell he was eager to get inside and escape the unnecessary small talk, just like you at this point. His hand pressed lightly against your lower back, as he gestured for you to head towards the entrance first.

The moment you stepped inside, the warmth of the hotel lobby enveloped you, a stark contrast to the bitter night air that was brewing outside. The Imperial exuded luxury in every detail; polished marble floors reflected the golden glow of crystal chandeliers overhead, and the faint scent of fresh lilies mingled with the rich aroma of tobacco, like someone had lit a cigar and left it out to marinate. Ornate columns framed the space, leading toward an opulent sitting area where a handful of late-night guests lingered over drinks, their laughter a quiet murmur beneath the soft classical music playing from hidden speakers. You both walked by, garnering their attention for a brief moment before they returned back to their conversations.

Behind the counter, a woman in her mid-thirties with sharp cheekbones, deep red lipstick, and perfectly slicked back brown hair stood, looking at her computer screen with an emotionless expression, nothing behind the eyes.. When she heard you approaching her gaze flicked up, lingering on Bucky for just a little longer than necessary before looking at you. You could see her straighten her back, almost to puff her chest out, and her expression shifted into something more warm and inviting.

”Good evening! Welcome to the Imperial,” She greeted smoothly, her voice like silk against the air, “Do you have a reservation with us this evening?” Bucky gave her a small nod, taking out his wallet.

”Uh…It should be under Barnes. James Barnes.” You glanced over at him, watching him pull out a credit card that had his name scrawled on the back of it, handing it over to her so she could compare the information. She glanced at the card then her screen, scrolling through the list of guests.

”Ah,” She murmured, tapping the enter key, “Here you are. A deluxe suite. What an excellent choice.” Her smile widened ever so slightly, as she handed Bucky’s card back, letting her fingers graze his. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, it was barely noticeable. He took his card back, clearing his throat slightly.

”The deluxe suite is one of our finest…It’s spacious, private…Perfect for an…” She let the words linger, tilting her head a bit, “Intimate getaway.” You were growing increasingly uncomfortable with the interaction, and you could tell by the way Bucky was fidgeting he was probably in the same boat. He gave her a polite nod, slipping his card back into his wallet.

”It sounds like we got lucky.” The receptionist's smile didn’t waver, if anything it grew even wider.

“Oh, I’d say you’re very lucky, Mr. Barnes.” Her voice dipped just enough into suggestiveness that it caused Bucky’s grip on his wallet to tighten, as her eyes roamed over him. She picked up a black folder, sliding it towards him with ease.

”All the details of your stay will be in here, your key card, the room service menu, spa packages…” She trailed off, her manicured nails tapping against the folders edge, “And of course, if you need anything extra, I’d be happy to personally ensure your stay is perfect.” Bucky nodded stiffly, shifting his weight into you a bit, desperate to wrap this interaction up.

”I appreciate it.” He responded, stepping back a bit, as you took the folder from the desk. Before the receptionist could say anything else, the doorman came in, carrying both of your bags with practiced ease.

”Here we are!” He announced, “Would you like me to bring them up to your suite for you?” Bucky shook his head, jumping at the chance to break free from the lingering tension.

”No need. I got it.” He held his hand out, grabbing both bags from the man, throwing them over his shoulder, his biceps flexing against his fitted long sleeve shirt. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the receptionist’s gaze flicking downward, taking in the ease of his actions, obviously enjoying the view. You let out a small exasperated sigh, as you leaned into Bucky a little more, dragging your hand up his torso, feeling his muscles flinch slightly.

”Baby, can we please go up to the room now? I’ve been dying for a bit of privacy since we got off the plane.” He looked over at you, his eyes widened a bit, taken off guard by your sudden change in tone, now slipping in to save him from being flirted with.

”Of course…Yeah. Where are the elevators?” The both of you turned your attention back to the receptionist, seeing that her expression of lust had faltered just a bit, her smiling tightening at the edges.

”They’re going to be down the hallway to your left. Enjoy your stay.” Bucky didn’t waste a second, moving away from the desk, slipping his hand to your lower back guiding you to the elevators.

As soon as the doors slid closed, the both of you quickly unravelled yourselves from each other, standing on different sides of the elevator.

”Jesus Christ.” Bucky muttered, staring up at the mirrored ceiling, “That was awful.” You smirked.

”She was just being nice.” Bucky’s head snapped down.

”Nice? She was acting like she was going to rip my clothes off in the middle of the lobby. I was about five seconds away from running for my life.” You laughed.

”Who knew the Winter Soldier would be afraid of a little flirting.” Bucky scoffed.

”I’ve seen flirting before. That was not flirting.” He insisted, “And you could’ve stepped in a little sooner y’know.” You let out a soft laugh.

”Well, maybe I wanted to watch you simmer a little bit. You’re the one that went off kilter with the anniversary thing with the driver, it was just pay back.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, shifting his stance a bit, feeling the elevator stop on your floor.

”Yeah…I guess you’re right.” A ding echoed through the small space, signalling your arrival, “Let’s just get inside the room before she comes chasing after us asking if I want a private spa service or something.” He wasted no time stepping out of the elevator, adjusting his grip on the bags, with you following him closely down the lavishly decorated hallway. The plush navy carpet absorbed your footsteps, it felt like you were walking on memory foam. You took the keycard out of the folder the receptionist gave, as you reached your suite, sliding it through with euro hesitation, hearing the door click open, pushing it open wide before slipping into the suite.

You step in first, taking in the expansive suite with its elegant decor. The soft yellow lighting illuminates the room, casting a warm glow all over the navy accents that were strewn about the room. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city, and from way up there you could see things were still buzzing. It was undeniably luxurious, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. Your eyes continued to skim over the accommodations, as Bucky stepped in behind you, dropping the bags in front of the closet, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Damn…Pretty fancy.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he began to wander. You stepped towards the windows, wanting to get a better look at the view, crossing your arms over your stomach to hold yourself. Bucky moved toward the small kitchenette, his fingers drumming along the marble countertop.

“Mmm…At least we got a free bottle of champagne.” He announced, as you looked over your shoulder, seeing him turn the bottle towards you, a smirk on his lips, placing it back down on the counter, so that he could continue to explore the suite further, disappearing behind a partially opened door. You heard him hum in mild amusement before poking his head out.

”You’d be happy to know that the bed is massive. You’re gonna love it.” You stepped away from the window, making your way toward the bedroom. The room matched the accents of the main living area, the deep navy, the gold accents, the thick carpeting, with a bed so big that it could at least fit three people comfortably.

“It’s nice.” Bucky smirked, watching as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

”There’s just one issue.” Bucky raised a brow.

”What?” You motioned to the wall opposite of the bed.

”There’s no TV in here…” He glanced at the wall.

”Guess they think people coming in here don’t need distractions.” You let out a quiet sigh.

”I can’t sleep without background noise.” You murmured, seeing Bucky’s face fall a bit, now realizing you were being serious. You slipped out of the bedroom, hearing Bucky’s footsteps following close behind.

”Is that a you thing or…Is that a HYDRA thing?” He asked, watching as you went over to the counter that had the bottle of champagne on it, ripping off the black foil.

”I think you can take a guess,” You responded, twisting the metal that was holding the cork on the bottle. His jaw ticked, not needing to push you any further for details, as he moved towards you, leaning against the counter, his fingers idly tapping against his bicep.

”I get it.” You threw the curled metal onto the counter, putting your hand over the cork, turning it slowly.

”Sure.” The tone was a bit dismissive, and you didn’t mean for it to sound that way, all you wanted to do was avoid the conversation about HYDRA.

”I sleep on the floor, with the lights on, and even when those conditions are met I still can’t get a normal night's rest. So I do get it Y/N.” Your movements faltered for a moment, your grip on the cork tightening. The tension in Bucky’s voice wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t light either. You swallowed thickly, letting the words settle between the both of you until the cork popped with a soft thud. You reached for the two tubular glasses and poured the champagne into them slowly, being mindful of the bubbles that frothed at the surface. Bucky stayed where he was, as you handed him a full glass.

”If you need the background noise you can sleep out here, if you want.” You glanced up at him.

“What?” He motioned towards the couch in the living room area.

”You can take the couch since I won’t be using it, and I don’t mind background noise…I probably won’t be sleeping tonight anyways.” You hesitated for a moment, taking a small sip from the champagne glass, letting the sweet, and bitter flavour mingle on your tongue.

“Couch it is…I guess.” You responded. Bucky gave a tiny, satisfied nod before raising his glass slightly, not as a toast, just as a simple acknowledgment of the situation, with you mirroring the same gesture, the both of you downing the whole glass in one go. The fizzy liquid burned slightly on the way down, but it was far from it being unpleasant. If anything, it helped take the edge off, even if it was just a little. Your tongue swiped across your lips, chasing the lingering taste.

“Well, that’s definitely a way to settle in.” You huffed a quiet laugh.

”Could be worse, we could be stuck in some rundown motel with paper-thin walls.” Bucky smirked, setting his empty champagne glass down on the counter with a quiet clink.

”I actually think if we were in a rundown motel less eyes would be on us.” You placed your glass down as well.

”Yeah, but then we’d have to deal with the possibility of bedbugs, a busted heater, and a crappy television set.”

”Sounds like a real test of endurance.” He quipped, as he grabbed the countertop with his hands.

”Mmm, real elite training there Bucky. Maybe throw in some mystery stains on the carpet for a little bit of spice.” He snorted, shaking his head as he reached for one of the mini bottles of whisky that came with the mini bar.

”Speaking of challenges, we should probably get something to eat before we start drinking more.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

”Did we get different super serums or something? Because I could’ve sworn I don’t get drunk and I’ve really tried to override that.” He smirked, twisting off the small cap from the bottle, taking a sip.

”No, we definitely have similar versions if you don’t get drunk, but then again I haven’t really ran into anyone else like us to ask this question.” You hummed, handing him the room service menu.

”Well, if we ever do, I think that’ll be the first question I ask. Forget the whole ‘where are you from, what’s your story’, I’m leading with ‘can you go through multiple large bottles of alcohol and not absolutely destroy your liver?’” Bucky laughed.

”Yeah, it’s definitely an important question to ask, skip all the pleasantries, get straight to the essentials.” You smirked, watching as he flipped open the menu, his eyes skimming along the items.

”Alright, what are we thinking? Fries? Sliders? Mystery meat from the hotel’s five-star kitchen?” You shrugged, leaning against the counter.

”Honestly, just order anything. As long as it’s not snails or something that still has a face.” He nodded, reaching for the phone.

”Don’t worry, I have the same sentiment. No fine dining nightmares.” You listened as he placed the order, keeping it simple with fries, sliders, and a charcuterie board because he wanted something to pick at. He also made sure to add the large bottle of whisky onto the order just before hanging up.

”They said it’ll be here in about thirty minutes.” He said, stretching his arms above his head to crack his back and neck.

”Alright, I’m gonna hit the shower first then since it’s gonna be a bit of a wait.” Bucky nodded.

”Go for it, I’ll make sure they don’t slip something into our food.” You made your way over to your bag, grabbing the pajamas you brought before heading toward the bathroom.

”Ever the soldier, Barnes.”

”Hey, it comes with the territory.” He shot back, as you closed the door behind you. The space was sleek and modern, all marble and gold accents, the kind of luxury that made you hesitate for a second. It felt too pristine, too untouched. You shook off the thought and turned the shower on, letting the water heat up as steam filled the room. You peeled your clothes off, leaving them in a small pile on the floor, before stepping under the boiling water, sighing as the heat ran over your skin. You could feel the tension in your muscles melt away, and for the first time in the last few hours, you felt yourself truly relax beneath the stream.

You ran your hands over your arms, watching the droplets of water slide over your skin, reaching over to pump a bit of body wash into your hand. The lush scent of lavender tickled your nose, as you ran the soap along the planes of your body, taking time with yourself to just absorb the calm environment. It wasn’t often that you got to enjoy something as simple as a hot shower without rushing, nor without your mind racing. You lingered longer than usual, running your hands over your body, tracing the rivulets of water as they slid down your skin. It felt indulgent in a way—like taking your time was a luxury.

After a while, the heat began to weigh on you, and you reached to turn off the water, stepping out onto the plush bath mat. The mirror was fogged over, your reflection blurring at the edges as you wiped a hand across the glass

You grabbed a towel, running it over your arms and legs before wrapping it around yourself. The air was noticeably cooler now that you were out of the shower, a stark contrast to the warmth you’d just been under. You stood for a moment, looking at your reflection before grabbing your pajamas, and pulling them on, starting with your baggy tan t-shirt, then ending with your shorts that you could barely see due to the length of the top. You stopped to look at your reflection for a moment, turning to the side to look at the three deep scar tissue marks on your outer thigh, your fingertips running along them, letting out a frustrated sigh, before fixing the shirt over it. You hung the damp towel on the back of the door, stepping back out into the main area of the suite, pushing your hair out of your face. Bucky was sitting at the little coffee table, pouring himself another glass of whiskey, looking up when the floor creaked.

His blue eyes scanned over you quietly. You could see the way they roamed up your bare legs, the way he stared at the oversized shirt that silhouetted over your figure. Just for a second you caught a subtle shift in his expression, but he didn’t say anything, he glanced back down at his glass, running his thumb over the rim of the glass. You weren’t sure if his reaction made you feel awkward, but you tried not to notice it, as you made your way to the seat across from him, seeing the food had already arrived and he had waited for you. The charcuterie board was neatly arranged, the sliders looked perfectly cooked, and the fries were still warm, the smell of salt and crisped potatoes filling the air.

“I’m impressed you didn’t rip this entire plate apart.” You said, reaching for a fry, before plopping yourself down on the seat in front of him. Bucky brought his glass of whiskey to his lips.

”Figured it’d be rude if I didn’t wait.” He explained, taking a sip. You hummed in approval, popping the fry into your mouth.

“How thoughtful.” Bucky’s eyes rested on yours for a moment, as he settled his glass down.

”You want some?” He asked, gesturing to the bottle of whiskey. You nodded, grabbing the empty glass in front of you, holding it out for him to pour into. The amber liquid sloshed around slightly, just before he set the bottle back down on the table. You brought the drink up to your lips, taking a small sip, feeling the heat spreading in your mouth, then down your throat. Bucky cleared his throat, gaining your attention.

”I just…I just want to ask.” He hesitated, looking through the glass coffee table at the three scars on your outer thigh. You traced his eyesight, and looked down, “Did I…?” You blinked, caught off guard for a second. He looked like he was bracing himself, waiting to hear another thing he had done that he completely forgot about. You immediately shook your head.

”No,” You replied. “It wasn’t you.” His shoulders relaxed, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face.

”Alright,” He muttered, his eyes still lingering on them, because now he was thinking about who might’ve done it to you.

”Bucky,” You said gently, drawing his attention back up to you, “You don’t have to hold your breath every time you notice something. Trust me, you would’ve known if you caused this.” Bucky nodded slowly, his fingers toying with the rim of his glass again.

“Just wanted to check.” You exhaled softly.

”I get it.” And you really did. His mind was just jumping to the worst-case scenario, as if it was easier for him to believe he was the cause of all the violence you had experienced in your life, rather than realize, for once, he wasn’t to blame.

The two of you continued to pick at the food, trading quiet conversation between bites, until exhaustion started to creep in. You glanced over at the clock, seeing that it was almost 3 o’clock in the morning, groaning as you pushed yourself up from your seat.

“I’m gonna grab the duvet off the bed,” You said, heading towards the bedroom. Bucky watched you disappear before he stood as well, stretching his arms above his head. By the time you returned with the thick duvet and matching pillow bundled in your arms, he had already grabbed a folded blanket from the closet, and was tossing it down onto the floor near the couch. You shifted past him, letting the duvet unravel in your hands, dropping it over the couch, adjusting it as you threw the pillow down on top of it, before sliding beneath the covering, pulling it up to your neck, letting out a sigh at the warmth.

Bucky turned on the television, and left on one of the side table lamps that was closest to him, as he got himself comfortable on the floor beside the couch, shaking his blanket out and carefully lowering himself down with ease, making it clear that it wasn’t his first rodeo. He let out a small groan, turning onto his side so he was facing the muddied infomercials that were on the screen, shifting so he could get comfortable.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the low hum of the television. The infomercials blurred into background noise, a comforting, monotonous buzz against the silence that had settled between the two of you. You lay on the couch, your head sinking into the pillow, but your mind wasn’t quite ready to shut off yet. You glanced over the side of the couch, looking at Bucky who was now laying on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, while his vibranium fingers flexed against the fabric of his shirt.

“Bucky.” You whispered, he hummed, opening his eyes to look up at you.

”Yeah?” He asks, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

“What are you thinking about?” You hear him swallow at the question, watching him shift a bit.

”The usual things I think about. Sometimes I get these headaches, and I get these…Memories of things. I don’t know if it’s from all the mind wiping they did to me, but it’s like it fills in the gaps.” You could see the tension in his jaw, and the way he was running his vibranium hand along his shirt, like he was trying to soothe himself.

”What kind of memories?” You asked softly.

”Not the good ones…It’s always people I don’t recognize, but it’s usually safe to assume I’ve hurt them in some way.” He whispered, “It’s not clear enough to tell. It’s fragments. A voice, a place, a feeling. I don’t even know if they’re real or not, because I don’t remember things completely, you know what I mean?” You nodded slowly, your fingers curling into the edge of the duvet.

”I get it.” You replied, his eyes flickered toward you.

”Yeah?” You exhaled slowly, shifting on the couch so you were in his line of sight.

”Well, I didn’t go through what you did, but after I escaped and defected, I went through a period where I was constantly having nightmares. I was an absolute wreck. I still have moments where I remember things and it scares the shit out of me, because it feels like I’m back there.” Bucky let out a small laugh, but it wasn’t one of amusement.

”Seems like we have something in common, some nights I wake up and it’s like I’m back there being pinned against the new soldiers all over again, getting the crap beat out of me because HYDRA wanted to see if they were as strong as their first prototype.” You could feel a shiver creep up your bones as you moved back a bit.

”I escaped before they could pin me against you.” He let out a slow breath.

”I know…If I can remember anything about you from back then, it’s that HYDRA had a vendetta against you. That’s why when you escaped they sent me after you.” You nodded.

”Because I broke their precious programming.”

”Mmm, and it pissed them off.” He smirked, “They don’t like loose ends.” You laughed a bit.

”No, they don’t. I’m shocked they never found out that I lived through your attack.” You said, digging your nails into your palm.

“When I found out from Steve that you were still alive I thought he was joking, I had never failed a mission. I kept saying that to him too, and he kept telling me you were in the hospital. Still kicking. Recovering from what I did. He never went into detail about what I had done, probably to not add to the psychological torment.” You smirked.

”Yeah when he told me that he told you I was still alive I almost punched a hole through him.” Bucky let out a small laugh.

”Sounds about right…” He paused, still running his fingers over his top, “Can I be honest about something though?”

“Of course.” He sighed, sitting up so he was face to face with you.

”When he told me you were alive I was really relieved.” You studied him for a moment, seeing him push his hair out of his face, “And when he would come see me…I would ask how you were.” You leaned up on your arm, surprised by this admission, taken completely off guard by what he was saying, “He would tell me all the little updates, but he also told me to not show my face or else you would probably kill me.” You raised your eyebrows at him, remembering the times where Steve would casually ask the nurses if there was anything new going on with me, realizing that it wasn’t for him, it was for Bucky.

”Well he wasn’t wrong there…Even in the briefing room yesterday I was contemplating killing you.” You commented.

”Yeah, I could see it in your eyes when you saw me. I knew you weren’t going to be happy to see me, but my goodness I didn’t think you were going to go in so hard on me.” You scratched the back of your neck.

”Can’t really blame me there…I’m sorry for those things I said though, I got really nasty, and I hit below the belt, and Maria was right...I pushed your buttons.” He shook his head.

”It’s okay, I deserved it, and for what it’s worth…I’m also sorry for getting in your face during that whole thing. Should’ve just let you take your anger out on me, just like everyone used to.” For a long moment the two of you just stayed still, facing each other. The room felt like it had shrunk around you, but it wasn’t suffocating at all. Bucky’s eyes flickered over your face, trying to figure out what you were thinking, but he couldn’t find anything. The weight of everything that had just been spoken about beared down on the both of you, but it had softened some of the resentment you were still holding onto. He watched as you sat up, pushing the duvet off you, and before he could ask what you were doing, you wrapped your arms around him, bringing him in for a hug.

Immediately he stiffened, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. You felt so warm against him, that it took a moment to register what was happening, but when he finally pulled himself out of his racing thoughts, he released a quiet shudder, and wrapped his arms around you as well. You weren’t sure why you had done it. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was the weight of everything between you two, pressing in from all sides. But as you held him, you could feel the tension in his body, the way his breathing had become uneven, shallow.

And then, you felt it.

A single shuddered breath against your shoulder. The quietest sniff—so small, so restrained, as if he was fighting against it with everything he had, and then a few warm droplets hitting the fabric of your shirt. Tears. You could feel his arms tighten around you ever so slightly, digging his face into your shoulder like he was shielding himself, or so you couldn’t move back to see him. You breathed in, catching the sweet minty scent of his clothes for a brief moment, as you ran a hand down his back to soothe him. He trembled against you, another sob escaping his throat, muffled by your shoulder.

“I-“ He tried to speak, but his voice was cut off by him breathing in.

”Shh…You don’t have to say anything Bucky…It’s okay.” You whispered, and for the rest of the time you sat there holding him, he didn’t say anything. He just held onto you as tightly as possible.

————

“Bucky. I need you to come in here and zip me up. I’m not flexible.” You yelled, looking at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the tight silk fabric of the dress, pulling it down as far as it could go. You could hear the sound of Bucky’s heavy steps approaching the washroom, before he pushed open the door, buttoning up the sleeves of his black dress shirt that fit snugly against his broad frame. You were surprised at how well he cleaned up, and how good he looked in just a black dress shirt and a pair of dark grey dress pants. It was so simple, yet so…Sophisticated. He glanced up from what he was doing, his eyebrows raising a little bit, a smirk appearing on his lips. You squinted at him.

”What’s that face all about? Hmm? Do you want to wear the dress?” Bucky laughed, shaking his head, stepping closer to you.

“I don’t think I’d fit into it, but I’d love to see you try to get me into one…Now turn around.” You rolled your eyes at his comment, but did as he said, turning your back to him and adjusting your hair so it wouldn’t possibly get in his way. He stepped towards you, his fingers finding the zipper, picking up where you left off. You could feel the fabric getting tighter against your body as he brought the zipper higher up your back, his vibranium hand absentmindedly settling on your waist to hold you still. He sighed, letting you go once he had fully zipped the dress up, catching the way his eyes roamed over your reflection, his teeth briefly biting his bottom lip.

”All set.” He announced, watching as you adjusted the fabric again, seeing his eyes flicking to the scar in the middle of your chest that was poking out from just above the neckline of the dress, his eyes softening.

“Something on your mind, Barnes?” You asked, gaining his attention, drawing him out of his trance.

”No…Just looking.” You raised an eyebrow at him, reaching for the thin gold chain you had placed on the countertop.

”And what exactly are you looking at?” Your tone was playful, trying to settle into the mood you would have to be in the whole night. Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you fastened the delicate chain around your neck, letting it settle gently on your skin.

”What do you think I’m looking at?” He responded, now leaning himself against the countertop, looking at the way you continued to adjust yourself.

“If I’m not mistaken…It seems like you’re enjoying the view.”You said, reaching for your earrings, tilting your head to glance over at him.

“You’re definitely not mistaken.” His voice was smooth, with an undeniable teasing tone lacing his words. You let out a small huff, fighting the heat that began to creep up onto your cheeks, as you clasped one of your earrings into place.

”You know Bucky, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are flirting with me.” He smirked, turning fully towards you, as his vibranium fingers tapped along the sink.

”And if I am?” He asked, his eyebrows raising, your gaze meeting his through the reflection, as you fastened the second earring.

”Then I’d say you’re laying it on pretty thick.” He laughed a bit, moving closer to you, your body turning to face him now. He looked down at you.

”You wound me, doll,” He murmured, feigning hurt, “Here I am, just trying to be a convincing partner for the night, and you’re saying I’m laying it on too thick.” You scoffed.

”Oh please.” Bucky’s eyes continue to roam over your face, looking at the way your skin glowed under the harsh lighting of the bathroom, the way your lashes framed your eyes when you looked up at him, the way you studied every expression that came up on his face. There was a beat of silence.

“All jokes aside though…You look great.” His compliment caught you off guard for a split second, as you cleared your throat.

”Well. You clean up pretty well yourself.” He hummed, looking at himself in the mirror.

”You really think so?” You gave him a once-over, using it as an excuse to really take in how form fitting the outfit was, tilting your head slightly, pretending to contemplate.

”Mmm, yeah, you look presentable enough.” Bucky let out a dramatic scoff.

”Presentable enough? That’s all I get huh?” His eyes narrowing with playful offense, drawing out a small beat of laughter from you. You reached for your cherry chapstick, not wanting to be too bold for the night, taking off the cap.

”Now, now, don’t be so dramatic, I’m sure there will still be plenty of eyes on you tonight regardless of what I say.” You said, swiping the sheer red colour over your bottom lip, then the top, repeating a few times.

“Is that so?” Bucky mused, watching you press your lips together, as you capped the tube, tossing it into your small bag.

”Let me see, the hostess, for one, probably all the women in the room, and even the men at this point.” You responded.

“I think you may have left someone out in that long list of yours.” You raised your eyebrows at him, adjusting the dress one more time.

”Oh yeah? And who might that be?” You asked.

”You.” He whispered, leaning in down a bit, getting into your space, his sweet, lavender scented cologne invading your senses. You held your ground though, refusing to crack under how smooth he was with his flirting.

”I didn’t know you wanted my attention so badly.” You replied back, leaning in as well, almost like you were challenging him, getting close enough that you were basically exchanging breaths with one another.

“Can you blame me?” He asked. You could feel your pulse gallop for a split second, as your lips parted, trying to find a witty remark to rebuttal with, only for you to stop short. His gaze flicked between your eyes, then to your lips, his blue irises glistening beneath the lighting. You cleared your throat, breaking the silence.

”That depends…Are you going to be like this all night?” He hummed.

”Are you going to let me? Because I can do this all night sweetheart, won’t even break a sweat.” You could feel the heart crawling up your chest. He was testing you, waiting for you to crack, but you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction.

”That’s a bold claim. You sure you can back it up?” He wet his lips with his tongue, his gaze still locked onto yours.

”You know I can.” The tension between you felt electric, humming in the small space that was still between you, buzzing loudly. Neither of you were willing to step back.

”Is that right?”” You murmured, your voice smooth, testing.

”You want me to prove it?” You arched an eyebrow.

”Are you offering?” His vibranium tapped along the edge of the countertop, whilst his other hand brushed lightly over the fabric at the bottom of your dress, barely touching it as he toyed with the hem.

”Hmm. Yeah, I am.” You could feel his fingers trail up just a fraction higher before you grabbed his wrist. The air in the room shifted, an all encompassed heat raising to your cheeks. He smiled at you, seeing the way you broke eye contact, your eyelashes fluttering involuntarily.

“Too much?” He asked, teasing.

“No…We just have to get going.” You replied. He looked down at you for one more second, gently biting the inside of his lip, before pulling his hand away, lifting his hands in mock surrender.

”Right. Wouldn’t want to be late.” You turned away from him, grabbing your bag from off the counter, the warmth of his touch still lingering against your skin. He watched you closely, hearing the shakiness of your breathing that you tried to cover up by making additional noise, but he knew. He tucked his hands into his pockets, a restraint to hold himself back from touching you again.

“Come on…We got places to be.” You announced, walking past him, keeping your eyes off him.

—————

From the street, the neon-red glow of The Velvet Fang’s sign bathed the alleyway in an eerie, seductive light, casting long shadows against the damp pavement. The sign flickered slightly, a heartbeat of crimson against the darkness of the night, drawing attention like a whisper promising something sinful just beyond its threshold. Bucky’s arm was draped over your waist as the both of you made your way towards the security guard, the scent of rain lingering in the air around you, mixing with the distant aroma of cigar smoke coming from the people that lined the alleyway. There were faint looks of exhaustion printed on their aged faces, and small sweat marks staining their shirts. You were thankful you had dressed lightly, because evidently it seemed like it was going to be overwhelmingly warm in the club.

The security guard stationed by the entrance was tall, and broad shouldered, a mountain of a man, with a shaved head, and dark eyes that roamed over you. You and Bucky stepped towards him, and his hard expression barely shifted, he had a tablet in his hand, which shadowed his face harshly.

”Name?” He asked, only looking at Bucky.

”James Barnes.” He replied, his hand twitching against your waist slightly, almost as if he was giving a warning. The guard looked down at the screen, scrolling up for a moment, before clicking on something. He took a moment, and you could see his eyes scanning over something, glancing up at Bucky, then at you.

“Super soldiers hmm?” He had a hint of interest in his eyes, as he continued to scan over whatever he had been looking at moments ago. Of course they did their research, you could imagine what was on that tablet, all the information. You wouldn’t be surprised if they had been watching you since you stepped foot in Vienna. Bucky didn’t react beyond a tight-lipped smile.

”Is it an issue?” His voice was casual, smooth, and non-threatening. The security guard looked up from the screen, letting out a short, gruff chuckle.

”Not an issue, we get all kinds coming here. All we ask is that you don’t start any problems.” Bucky offered a slow nod, his fingers soothing against the fabric of your dress.

”Wouldn’t dream of it.” The guard studied him for a second longer, before his eyes trailed over to you, dragging over your frame in a way that made your skin crawl. Finally, he stepped aside, motioning towards the metal door, sliding it open.

”Enjoy yourselves.” The moment you stepped inside, the heavy metal door groaned shut behind you, sealing off the outside world. There was a dimly lit hallway leading towards a set of stairs, and the thrum of music vibrated through the floor, a slow seductive beat booming under your legs, almost making them turn to jelly. You could smell the distinct scent of musk in the air; sweat, smoky leather…It was as if it clung to every surface of the enclosed space. Bucky still held your waist, as he guided you towards the staircase. Just before you could step down, he pulled you to the side, into the shadows of a small corridor, leaning in to talk into the shell of your ear so you could hear him over the chest shaking bass that continued to grow in volume. One hand settled on your waist, while the vibranium one was pressed against the wall behind you.

“I need you to listen to me for a minute okay?” You tilted your chin up, nodding at him.

”If we get separated, you don’t come looking for me. You don’t wait around. You leave. Do you understand?” Bucky wasn’t just saying this as a precaution, he was saying it because he knew there was a real possibility of things going wrong, and you could hear the tinge of worry sprinkled in his voice, even though he tried to hold it back. You shook your head.

”That’s ridiculous Bucky. I’m not going to run, are you insane? You can’t ask that of me.” He pulled away from you.

“Why do you always have to argue with me Y/N. Just please for the love of god listen to me.” Your jaw tightened, the weight of his words pressed down on your chest.

”You’re asking me to abandon you, Bucky. Do you not hear yourself?” His fingers on your waist twitched.

”I do hear myself, and I need you to hear me too.” You looked up at him, your eyes glistening in the faint red light of the corridor.

”It’s not an option, Bucky. I’m not doing it.” You crossed your arms over your stomach.

”Do you really think I want to be saying this to you right now?” Your arms stayed locked around yourself, a weak shield against the way his words were sinking into you, as you looked away from him.

“I’m not doing it.” You repeated. Bucky exhaled sharply, his hand leaving your waist for a brief moment, before his calloused touch reached your face, his rough thumbs pressing against your cheekbones, tilting your head to look up at him again. It was gentle, yet firm all at the same time.

“Please.” His voice was stripped of its usual steadiness, “Please Y/N. If something happens, I need to know you’ll be safe. You need to just listen to me. Please.” You could feel his hot breath hitting against your face, the all too familiar scent of him wrapping around you, warming your body. You could feel your chest tighten, your pulse hammering away in your throat, as you reached up and wrapped your hands around his wrists.

”Bucky…” His forehead dipped dangerously close to yours, his breath becoming heavier against your skin.

“Please.” He begged again. His voice cracked, almost like how he sounded last night after he had stopped crying, after he apologized for your tear soaked shirt, after he laid back down and said goodnight. You wanted to scream at him, maybe it would make him understand that you didn’t work this way, but it wasn’t going to work…

”…Fine. I’ll do it…” You could feel his breath come out in a sigh, as he pulled back, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss between your brows. His breath came out shakily against your skin, as his thumbs traced over your cheekbones for a split second, before stopping. The action had caught you off guard, but you couldn’t even think, because by the time you had something to say his lips had left your skin.

”Thank you.” He whispered, pulling back from you, his hands leaving your face, his warmth parting from your body. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a moment to recollect himself, his eyes flicking back to yours. You swallowed thickly.

”We should head in.” You said, breaking the silence. Bucky gave a slow nod, holding out his hand for you, guiding you toward the descending staircase, your eyes adjusting to the blood red walls that surrounded you.

The closer you got to the club area, the heavier the bass thumped through your chest, rattling through every bone in your body like a second heartbeat. The moment you stepped through the final set of doors, it was like you had crossed a threshold into a different world entirely. Now the smell of leather, sweat, and something much more heady settled in the back of your throat. It was dizzying.

The inside of the club was dark, you could barely see anything apart from the shadows that were cast from the strobe lights that were going in chaotic bursts, distorting the movement of the bodies that were tangling themselves into each other on the dance floor, but you could barely see. The music wasn’t just loud now, it was vibrating throughout your entire body, almost to the point where it made you nauseous. Your eyes took a while to adjust to the dimmed lighting, as you felt Bucky tense beside you, his hand tightening around yours. You looked over at him, seeing the way his face had dropped, like he was in shock, caught off guard in some way.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky yelled, but it sounded like a whisper over the deafening bass. Your eyes finally adjusted to the lighting, and now your gaze followed his, connecting the dots as to why he looked so tense.

The dance floor was a writhing mass of limbs, hands touching breasts, settling between thighs, exploring each other, mouths meeting in heated kisses, completely losing themselves in the pools of lust and desire. There were booths that lined the outer perimeter of the dance floor that were hardly private. Some had sheer curtains that barely concealed the occupants inside, while others remained entirely open so that the scenes within them were revealed to the rest of the patrons. A man sat back lazily on a plush seat, his fingers tangled in a woman’s hair as she knelt between his legs, while in another booth there was a trio wrapped up together, moving in intoxicating synchrony.

Bucky leaned in close, his lips hovering just beside your ear.

”I need a fucking drink.” You nodded in agreement, as he pulled you towards the bar on the side of the dance floor. You stayed close to him, your hand tightening around his to make sure the both of you didn’t separate in the chaos of it all.

As you reached the bar, the dim glow of the red light bathed the sleek obsidian bouncer top, reflecting against the rows of expensive liquor that was lined up behind it. The bartender, a tall man with slicked back hair tied into a bun, gave an amused smirk towards the both of you, watching as you sat down on one of the stools.

“What can I get you?” You glanced over at Bucky, motioning for him to order first.

”Whiskey…Neat please.” The bartender nodded, turning to you.

”And for the lady?” You hesitated for a second, as Bucky’s hand rested against your thigh, his thumb tracing along the warm skin.

”I’ll have a tequila pineapple. Thank you.” The bartender leaned in closer to you, a spicy cinnamon scent immediately hitting your nose.

”A single or double shot?” He asked, you glanced over at Bucky, then back towards him.

”Double please.” He smirked, moving back to collect the bottles needed for the drinks, and the glasses as well. The bartender moved with an ease only a professional with years of experience would have, pouring Bucky’s whiskey while he poured out the shots of tequila for your drink, then poured the pineapple juice as well. He slid both drinks towards you, and smiled, going to the other side of the bar to take other orders.

Neither of you spoke as you drank, it was as if you didn’t want to talk about what was going on throughout the club. You kept your eyes locked on the glass, taking generous gulps, letting the burn radiate through your chest. Bucky’s hand remained on your thigh, tracing up your exposed skin, as he surveyed the room, trying his best not to be obvious. You could feel the slight flex of his fingers, before he continued to rub gently, like he was trying to soothe himself, and you at the same time. You finished your drink, placing the glass back on the bar, as Bucky moved towards you, pushing your hair away from your ear.

“I think we need to move, if we keep sitting here it’s gonna draw attention.” Your skin prickled under the heat of his breath, and for a split second, you thought you felt his lips.

”Yeah. Okay.” You replied, as he pulled back, his fingers leaving your thigh, offering you help off your stool. He held your hand as he guided you away from the bar.

The moment Bucky pulled you onto the dance floor it was like you were swallowed up by the bodies, but the people around you ceased to exist. His hands found your waist first, as he kept you close to him, making sure you were practically flush against him. His chest pressed against yours, while you found your rhythm, attempting to match the beat, the friction between your bodies growing with every movement you made, while your hands ran over his dress shirt. His warmth seeped into your skin, and you could feel his hot, uneven breath fanning across your collarbone. You felt his hand slide lower, resting on your hip, his fingers curling into the silk, holding onto it for dear life, as his vibranium hand traced up the length of your back, the cool temperature contrasting against the heat of your body. You looked up at him, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth, seeing the starvation behind his gaze, the kind that pinned you in place, made your pulse pound against your throat like a drum. He shook his head at you, leaning to the side.

”You have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me.” He said against your ear, your stomach coiling, burning hot from the words he spoke. His lips ghosted over your jaw, not quite touching, just hovering, trying to tease you into making the first move. His breathing grew heavier the closer he got to your throat, when finally, he gave you a gentle kiss, as if he was seeing whether or not you were going to stop him. You tipped your head back, exposing more skin to him, silently giving him the invitation he needed to continue. His mouth opened against your skin, his teeth dragging over your pulse point, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue flicking out to taste the saltiness of your sweat.

“Fuck…” He rasped against your throat, bringing his vibranium hand down to press against the small of your back, to bring you even closer to him. You could feel every muscle in his body coiling so tight that he was practically shaking against you trying to keep his composure. His lips trailed up, going past your jaw, and ghosting over the corner of your mouth. Teasing. Testing. Waiting for you to make the first move and break, but you couldn’t…Not yet.

His lips hovered over yours, he was so close that every breath you took became his, the both of you panting. His nose brushed against yours, his lips parting to let out a shaky breath. Through the strobe lights you could see his pupils were blown wide, the adrenaline of the anticipation eating away at him minute by minute.

You let the moment stretch, as your hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingers, before curling them into the hair at the nape of his neck, your nails dragging lightly against his scalp, earning a small shudder from him. Finally, you brought him down towards you, crashing your lips against his.

The second your mouths met, it was like a dam broke, flooding the both of you with such desperation it almost choked you. Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, as his hands reached up to cradle your face, anchoring himself to you. His lips were searing, moving against yours like he had been starving for this. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, sucking it gently, willing your mouth to open for him, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. You pulled on his hair, feeling one of his hands leaving your face to rest on your waist, as he pressed his hips forward into yours, a silent plea, and a wordless confession of how badly he wanted you. His lips broke away from yours, only to trail kisses down your jaw, his stubble scraping against your skin, creating a contrast to the softness of his lips as he bit, kissed, and licked a path down your throat.

“Bucky…” His name left your lips in a breathy moan, causing him to sink his teeth slightly into your skin, before sucking gently on it, hard enough that there would be evidence of his mark for the next few days. You pulled on his hair again, feeling his lips drag back up to reclaim yours in a kiss so deep that your chest was burning from the lack of air. His vibranium fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress, skinning the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He was seconds away from dragging you out from the dance floor, seconds away from losing control entirely….

And then you felt a new pair of hands on you, causing the both of you to pull away from one another in a frightened haste.

“Well, well,” A voice purred above the pulsing bass, “Please don’t stop on my account.” Timothy Orkolov said, a smile draped over his lips. His gaze flicked between the two of you, taking in your swollen lips, the way Bucky’s hands had now moved to be more in front of you, so you would be behind him. He chuckled at the sight, swirling his drink around in his glass.

“I must admit, I’ve always wanted to see if it was true that HYDRA soldiers could go all night in the bedroom.” He teased, watching Bucky’s fingers twitching against your waist.

”Careful,” He warned sharply. Orkolov held his hand up.

”Oh come on James. You and your lovely partner here come waltzing into my club, put on a little show, and then you expect me not to comment about it? Forgive me for being curious.” His gaze dragged over you, appraising, assessing, his eyes lingering briefly on the scar between your chest, his lips curling into a smirk, “It’s rare to see two super soldiers together in one room, let alone seeing them in love like this…It’s almost poetic.” Bucky exhaled through his nose.

”Do you have a point to make or are you here to run your mouth?” Orkolov took a lazy sip from his glass, before tilting his chin towards the velvet-curtained VIP section at the back of the club.

”Why don’t we have a chat in private? Clearly you two came for something, I’d hate to keep the anticipation building.” Bucky looked over at you, his eyes still glazed over from your heated interaction, giving a nod.

”Fine. Lead the way.” Orkolov gave a small toothy smile, as he motioned for you to follow him.

The VIP section was draped in velvet red walls, the seating areas had harsh lights above you, where you’d be able to see someone perfectly, but it made your eyes sting from the transition from the dark chasm of the club to this. Orkolov took the both of you to a more secluded area, attempting to find the most private area so you would all be able to hear each other. He gestured for the both of you to go inside first. The room was average, it had a bar, a table, some velvet seats that matched the aesthetic of the rest of the club, and of course it was accented with gold trim wherever it could be. Orkolov roamed over to the bar, humming softly, like he was just having a pleasant meeting between old friends.

”Whiskey? Vodka? Anything to drink for either of you?” He asked, motioning to the bottles of alcohol behind him. Neither of you answered, “Well, suit yourselves.” He added, refilling his glass with whiskey, taking a long sip before motioning to the seats.

”Please. Let’s sit.” You and Bucky hesitated, looking at each other, trying to see what the play was going to be, but you never went through the possibility of having a private meeting with Orkolov. So you took a seat first, watching as Bucky joined you, his body on high alert, sturdy and stiff beside you. Orkolov’s eyes swept over you, his gaze dragging down your body, drinking up the image in front of him, until they settled on the scar that disappeared beneath your neckline. He swirled his drink around in his glass, placing it down onto the table.

”You know,” He mused, “I’ve read so much about the experiments HYDRA did. The enhancements. The conditioning. But you…” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, “You’re a mystery to me.” You kept eye contact with him, not breaking, not looking away.

“It’s such a shame they never completed you…” Your pulse pounded in your ears, but you still refused to give him the reaction, “Because that would’ve never happened to you.” He pointed at the scar. You didn’t flinch, and you could see the joy in his face, as he wet his lips, turning his attention to Bucky.

”Tell me James…When you look at her do you see a failed mission? Or the woman you supposedly love? You ever get that itch in the back of your head when you’re laying in bed together at night to finish the job?” Bucky’s hands twitched against his thighs, his jaw locking so tightly that it looked like it was going to shatter. Orkolov sat back.

”I mean…It must be torture, having her so close all the time. Being reminded everyday that you failed your duties to HYDRA.” Bucky’s breath came out slow and measured, but you could feel the rage radiating off of him. You wanted to put your hand on his thigh, but you knew better than to do that at the moment, as he brought his attention to you.

”It must eat away at you sometimes hmm? That no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you may trust him, there will always be that part of him that was given the order to kill you…And that it lives inside him.” You swallowed.

”He wouldn’t do that.” You replied, trying to convince yourself that it was the truth. You wanted to believe it, but there was still the hesitation inside your chest. Orkolov exhaled, a sharp laugh escaping his lips.

”Let me give it to you straight…You can love a blade, you can hold it close, and call it yours, but at the end of the day…It’s always going to be forged to cut. Just like James over here, will always be The Winter Soldier. Plain, and simple.” He smirked, looking over at Bucky, seeing the way his eyes had darkened, “And what will you do…When he finally does what he was commanded to do? When that blade you’re sure of is yours turns in your hand and carves you up all over again?” The words barely had time to settle before your body reached.

Your fist cracked against Orkolov’s jaw, snapping his head to the side with a sickening force, knocking him out of his seat. Bucky didn’t flinch, he didn’t even move a muscle, no protests, no getting up to hold you back, he was blank, almost completely void of anything. The room rang with the sound of a tooth skidding across the floor, and him landing hard against the ground with a thud. For a second there was only silence, you couldn’t feel your hands, it was like you went numb, but you didn’t care. You stood up from your seat, going over to Orkolov who groaned loudly, turning himself over, pressing his hand against his bloodied mouth, a gap showing from where you had knocked his tooth out. He looked up at you, with satisfaction in his eyes, as he coughed, letting the little blood droplets huff out into the air.

“I knew you had it in you.” He sputtered out. You crouched down, wrapping your hand around his neck, pulling him up so he was eye to eye with you.

”If you keep talking I’m going to snap your fucking neck. You may think they never completed me, but I still have the same serum running through my veins, and it burns for the kill. Especially when people run their mouths.” He choked as your hand tightened around his throat, “Now. We came here for information, so keep your end of the bargain, or else I’ll knock the rest of your fucking teeth out of your face.” He wheezed loudly, coughing up blood, the droplets hitting your face, as he moved his head up and down. Your grip on his neck loosened, allowing him to take a breath.

”There’s…A shipment coming in, “ He started, turning his head to spit out some blood that flooded his mouth from where you had knocked out his tooth, “High level assets…The remaining soldiers from HYDRA.” Your hand tightened around his throat again.

”Don’t fucking lie to me.” You spat, feeling him squirm, his hand coming up to hold your wrist, his blood smearing on your skin.

”I’m…I’m not. There’s still…They still exist.” He squeaked out, “Just like you guys.”

”When is it arriving?” He coughed again, more blood splattering on you.

”T-Tomorrow, m-midnight. At the ports on the o-outskirts of the city.” Your grip loosed on his neck, feeling his fingers trembling against your wrists as he struggled to swallow. His jaw was starting to swell up and you could see a faint bruise beginning to form on the side where you had punched, but in his eyes, it still held amusement, that unsettling satisfaction that he had made you crack. It frightened you that you had let the rage come through you again, something that you had tried so hard to control. The serum had given you this innate bloodlust, and you had pushed it down for so long you thought it was gone, then this happened and it felt like you were back to square one. You forced yourself to breathe deeply, as you threw Orkolov back down onto the floor, releasing his neck and knocking the wind out of him in the process.

You turned your head towards Bucky, but he still hadn’t moved, it was like he wasn’t even breathing, his eyes staring off in the distance. You took a step towards him.

”Bucky?” Orkolov let out a hoarse chuckle.

”Look at him…Poor little James, trapped in that head of his. I must’ve gotten to him just like I got to you.” He commented. With your pulse still hammering in your ears, all you could feel was wrong, absolutely sick to your stomach, and you ignored what he had said. Not wanting to get sucked back into the violence that was wanting to come out again. You took another step towards Bucky, crouching down in front of him.

“Bucky…Hey.” Your voice was soft, trying to get his attention, his eyes glazed over, unfocused and locked elsewhere. He still hadn’t moved, nor breathed properly, and it was beginning to worry you. You reached out, your fingers grazing his knee.

”Bucky.” You tried again, making your voice firmer, hoping you could break through whatever fog he was trapped in. Slowly you moved just a bit closer, lifting your hand up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his stubble. His skin was burning hot, but there was no reaction to your cold hands pressing against him, no flicker of recognition in those ice blue eyes. This wasn’t shock or anger that was fueling him to be this way, it was as if he had completely shut down, turned himself off for the world like it was to save himself from doing something stupid.

“Come on…” You whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Orkolov groaned.

”You think you’re gonna miraculously pull him out of this? It’s not up to him anymore.” You glanced over your shoulder at him, watching as he attempted to sit up.

”If you move a single muscle, or say another word…I’m gonna break every bone in your body. Do you understand?” You growled, turning your attention back to Bucky, sliding your fingers down to hold his wrists.

”You’re okay…You’re safe Bucky…I’m safe. You’re in control, Bucky. I know you are.” You could feel your throat tightening, seeing the absence behind his eyes. Your hands squeezed his wrists gently, forcing your presence into him, into whatever place he went to so that he could avoid the pain.

“I need you to hear me,” You whispered, desperation bleeding through your voice now, “You’re not there anymore, you’re not him…You’re Bucky Barnes, now come back to me for the love of god!” Finally, Bucky flinched. It was barely a movement at all, but you felt it against your hands, the slight twitch of his fingers on your skin.

“Come on…” You coxed, tightening your hands on his wrists a little bit more. Your heart was pounding, watching the way his expression slowly shifted, like he was trying to break through, then suddenly you heard it.

”…Y/N?” Your breath caught for a moment, your hands immediately meeting his face against, trembling against his overheated skin.

”Yes, yes it’s me. You’re okay.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, watching as his eyes began to dart around the room, taking in the environment around him, before settling on you again, seeing your skin splattered with blood.

”Jesus Christ what the hell happened?!” His hands came up to hold onto your wrists, pulling them away from him, seeing one of your hands stained with blood as well, “Are you hurt?!”

“It’s not mine, I’m okay Bucky.” His eyes snapped over toward Orkolov, who was crumpled on the floor, smirking through the pain.

”Missed quite the show…She’s got a hell of a right hook. Guess HYDRA really did do something right with her.” He commented, spitting out more blood. He looked back at you, surprised.

”I got what we needed. We have to get out of here though. I will tell you everything when we get someplace safe, okay?” He nodded, slowly getting up from his seat.

”Running away already? And here I was thinking we would have more time together.” Orkolov said, trying to push himself up onto his hands. Bucky stepped past you, moving towards him slowly, before standing above him.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll meet again, and next time, I don’t think you’re going to be getting out alive.”

——————-

When you arrived back at the hotel you didn’t know whether or not you wanted to shower first or call Maria to convey all the information to her. At this point you felt like every bone in your body was on fire, edging with this adrenaline you hadn’t experienced since HYDRA gave you the serum. It was almost mind numbing at this point, and you couldn’t imagine if this was what Bucky would experience when he was The Winter Soldier.

You took your phone out of your purse, dialing the only number that was in it. Hill picked up after the second ring.

”Tell me you have something.” You reached up to rub your face, feeling the crusted blood peeling off.

”There’s a shipment coming in tomorrow at midnight at the ports in the outskirts of the city. Orkolov said there are going to be HYDRA soldiers in it. The remaining ones…” There was a pause.

“Are you sure?” She asked, as you kicked off your shoes, glancing over at Backy who was standing at the kitchen counter, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“I’m positive. He was too scared to lie.” You commented, moving towards the bedroom, feeling Bucky’s eyes following, as you closed the door.

”That’s good. I’ll have a team en route to you guys by tomorrow evening.” Your grip tightened on the phone.

”Maria…I don’t think it’s a good idea that Bucky and I continue this mission. I don’t think it’s good if we come to the port for the shipment…Tonight wasn’t good for either of us, and with HYDRA being involved…I really don’t think we are in the right state to be there.” There was a long pause as you looked at your hand, seeing the dark crimson blood caked on it.

“You’re asking to pull out?” Her voice was even, but there was a hint of sharpness, maybe even disappointment in it. You pressed your fingers to your temple.

”We’re both compromised Maria…I almost killed Orkolov tonight…And Bucky basically dissociated because he got into his head. We can’t be there Maria…Please don’t send us there.” You begged, your voice cracking at the thought that you were both going to be faced with your past. Maria exhaled slowly.

”Okay…I’ll get you both out, but there is going to be a delay. Probably a day or two. Can you handle that?” You nodded.

”Yes, we can handle that, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Maria was quiet for a second.

”Just get some rest, and I’ll send you the information when everything is confirmed. Stay put and stay off the radar.”

“Understood.” Then she hung up without another word, leaving you in the silence of the bedroom. You dropped your phone onto the bed, before opening the door, seeing that Bucky was still at the counter, nursing his drink.

”Maria is going to pull us out.” You announced softly, coming out of the room. He looked over at you, his jaw tightening slightly.

”When?” You moved towards him.

”She said about a day or two, she’s going to text the information when she gets confirmation.” Bucky nodded, as he brought the glass of whiskey up to his lips, knocking back the rest of the drink in one go, putting it back down onto the counter.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, watching you closely, focusing on the little splatters of blood on your skin.

“Like I’m on fire…I haven’t had this much adrenaline going through me in a while.” You commented, moving closer to him, “How are you feeling?” He shook his head.

”Like my brain is swollen…I feel absolutely exhausted, all I want to do is shower, and try to sleep at this point.” You watched the tension in Bucky’s shoulders settle slightly, the adrenaline crash becoming inevitable.

“You can go first if you’d like. I can wait.” Bucky shook his head, a small laugh coming out of him.

”You should definitely go first…You’re the one that has the blood on you.” He pointed out, motioning to your face and body. In the light you saw the smudges on your arms from where Orkolov held, the remnants of the night clinging to you like a second skin.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You admitted, rubbing at your arms, as you turned on your heel, moving towards the bathroom, pausing for a moment just before you walked down the corridor, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you still. You glanced back at him.

“How about you come with me,” You murmured before you could think twice about it. His eyebrows raised, caught off guard by your offer, not sure if he was hearing you right.

”What did you just say?” He asked, his throat tightening on his words.

”Come with me,” You repeated, softer this time, tilting your head, “Unless you’d rather sit out here alone.” Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but the heat in his eyes told you he didn’t need any convincing. Wordlessly, he pushed himself off the counter and followed you down the corridor.

You turned on the bathroom light, motioning for Bucky to come in before closing the door behind you, turning to look at him. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets, looking down at you, letting his gaze run over the mess that you had become throughout the night. He sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his forehead.

”Should I turn on the hot water?” He asked, trying to break the silence up a little bit. You nodded, watching him slide open the glass door, and reach for the faucet, turning it counterclockwise. The sound of rushing water filled the space, steam already beginning to slowly rise, making the air in the room just a little bit heavier. He turned himself back towards you, glancing down at your dress briefly, as he brought his hands up to start working on the buttons of his dress shirt, the fabric parting inch by inch.

He was massive. Even after everything, even knowing the strength that came with the bulk of him, it still sent a shiver through you to really see him like this. The thick swell of his shoulders and arms, the defined cut of muscle beneath his skin, every inch of him carved from war and survival. His chest was wide, a few old scars slashing through the ridges of muscle, his vibranium arm gleaming under the bathroom light. His abs flexed with each breath, tight, strong, leading down to the deep v-cut at his hips. He pushed off the shirt completely, throwing it to the side, as he looked at you with anticipation burning behind his gleaming eyes. Slowly, you reached behind you, your fingers finding the zipper of your dress, bringing it down with an agonizing pace, feeling the fabric loosening around you. The dress slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You saw his fingers twitch at his side, as his gaze dragged over your body, trying to commit it all to memory. Your arms wrapped around your stomach, not out of embarrassment but from the weight of the way he was drinking in your body, the curvature of your breasts, the faint little scars that contrasted lightly against your skin, the way that your figure was just perfectly yours…It made his heart clench slightly, and suddenly he started to feel like he was overdressed.

His hands went to his belt buckle first, gently unlatching it, keeping his eyes on you as he did it. He slid the leather from the loops, dropping it to the tile with a clink. His fingers quickly returned to his pants to unbutton them, pushing the fabric off his hips and stepping out of it, leaving him in just his briefs. The both of you continued to look at each other, as you slowly closed the space, letting your nerves stir in your stomach.

You reached out, grazing the hard ridges of his stomach, barely touching, just lightly tracing the dense muscle there. You could feel him tense beneath your touch, his hand coming up to slide around your waist, bringing you just a little bit closer to him, the steam thickening around the room.

“…You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, bringing his vibranium hand up to trace down the jagged scar in the center of your chest, the coolness causing your skin to perk up against him, his touch didn’t linger there for long, as it moved off to your ribs, then up to the underside of your breast, cupping it gently, his thumb lightly brushing over your nipple, a soft gasp escaping your throat. A smirk tugged up onto his lips, leaning down so that his mouth was just above the mound of your breast, his hot breath clinging to your skin, savoring the moment before he finally took your nipple into his mouth. You gasped louder this time, your fingers pressing into the muscle of his torso, as his tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer to him, sucking gently, pulling his mouth off to blow against the wetness he had created.

”Jesus Bucky…” You moaned, as his mouth went to the opposite breast, wrapping around the perked nipple, nibbling slightly to elicit another gasp from you. Your fingers trailed down his abdomen, slipping under the waistband of his briefs for a moment, teasing him just like he was teasing you, as a groan radiated against your chest, and his fingers dug into your back. He took his mouth off your breast, trembling slightly, your hands trailing further beneath the waistband, his eyes looking up at you, seeing his pupils completely blown out from the tension, as you felt his erection against your palm. His lashes fluttered shut, and his cheeks turned a cherry red, tilting his head back as your hand wrapped around him, spreading his precum along his shaft as you began to slowly stroke.

“Oh fuck Y/N…” He gasped, bringing his hand to your chin, tilting your head up so he could crash his lips into yours. There was such a desperate intensity in the kiss, as he stole the air from your lungs, his tongue immediately tracing your bottom lip, begging for you to open for him, his hips rolling into your touch. You opened for him, feeling the hotness of his tongue against yours, as his hand slid off from your back, and slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, earning a moan from you, your legs parting slightly for him. You were already wet for him, as his fingers trailed over the slick arousal, teasing your dripping entrance before pushing two fingers in with ease. You almost screamed at the sensation that rocked through you, as his thick fingers stretched you out. He pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his vibranium hand coming up to cup your face, as you started to stroke him faster, with him trying to catch up to your pace, his fingers curling inside you. You closed your eyes tightly, your mouth dropping open as you moaned.

“That’s it…” Bucky murmured, breathless, trying his best to remain dominant, his lips grazing your jaw, “Let me hear you.” He whispered, biting the skin just below your ear. You could feel your pace falter, getting distracted by your own pleasure, feeling this tension beginning to build in your stomach, coiling around every inch of your body, your hand tightening around him. He gasped, biting into the sensitive flesh of your neck, sucking gently on the mark to soothe the sting.

”If you keep doing that I’m not going to last.” He whispered, shuddering against you.

“Then we should…” You paused, feeling your legs shake beneath you from the pleasure that wrecked through your entire body, “We should move to the shower then.” You suggested, looking up at him, your eyes glazed over, just as lust filled as his. He nodded, slowly taking his fingers out of you, pushing your underwear down, with you doing the same to him. The undergarments pooled at both your feet as he wrapped an arm around your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, a surprised gasp leaving your lips, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he brought you to the shower.

The first thing you felt was the boiling water hitting your back, spreading down your skin as he pressed you slowly against the warm porcelain wall, reaching with one hand to close the shower door, the other one anchoring you against him.

His lips trailed down the column of your throat, peppering kisses along your collarbone. He was unrushed with his movements, savoring every inch he got to explore, as his hand caressed the curve of your hip. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with praise, almost like you were his religion, or the most sacred thing he had ever touched. His breath mixed with yours as he captured your mouth in another heated kiss, the both of you moaning in unison, your hands tangling into his damp hair. The taste of him made your head spin. The both of you felt as if you were drowning in each other, but neither of you came up for air, his hand coming up to hold the side of your face. He was the first to pull back, his lips brushing yours one more time before his thumb traced along your swollen bottom lip, as the steam curled around the both of you.

“Open,” He said softly. There was no dominance in his voice, it was just a quiet request, something that was optional, but you obeyed anyways, parting your lips for him. He held your jaw gently, as if afraid you’d pull away, but when you didn’t, he let the moment stretch, suspended in tension, in anticipation, before he let a delicate stream of saliva fall from his lips, into your mouth. The act felt like something sacred, something intimate, as his thumb brushed against your chin, his gaze never leaving yours, watching you swallow. The corner of his mouth quirked up, just barely, before he dipped his head, capturing your lips in another deep, slow kiss. His tongue traced your bottom lip, as if savoring the taste of you before he pulled back, his breath warm against your mouth.

“I need to taste you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his grip tightening around your thigh, guiding your leg off the side of his waist, helping you regain your balance. His eyes held yours for just a moment, a silent exchange of desire and want, before he leaned forward, kissing along your collarbone, licking the droplets that slid down your body, sucking gently on the skin right at the bottom of your neck. His hands settled on your hips, pressing his fingers into your damp skin, as he continued his journey, exploring every inch of skin he could reach, and you were at his mercy, not that you minded of course. When he got on his knees in front of you it nearly made you choke, his lips kissing along your hip bone, his hand sliding behind your thigh, squeezing it gently, coaxing you to open for him.

”You’re already shaking…” He commented, his lips finding their way to your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin, wanting to mark you wherever he could so when he woke up in the morning he would know that this wasn’t just a dream. Your fingers threaded into his soaked hair, tugging just enough to cause shivers to rush down his body, silently pleading for him. His darkened eyes flickered up at you, his pupils completely blown out, not a speck of blue in sight, as he brought his lips up to your aching heat, placing a gentle kiss, before his tongue dragged along the entire area, your arousal coating his lips.

Your gasped echoed through the shower, feeling him press you against the wall so that you were secure with no possibility of falling, his mouth now completely consuming you whole. His tongue moved with such precision, tracing slow, sinful strokes along you, making sure he was paying attention to every spot that could earn him another moan, or hair pull from you. He groaned against you, his fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

”Fuck…Y/N. You’re so goddamn perfect. So warm…So fucking sweet.” He whispered, his tongue dragging through your slickness again, “You’re wrecking me…” The vibration of his voice against you made you press your nails into his scalp, shuddering above him.

”Bucky…” You whimpered, pressing him closer, feeling the wet heat of his mouth driving you closer and closer to the breaking point, your hips rolling against his mouth, feeling the heat in your stomach beginning to boil.

“You taste so fucking good…I want to stay here forever.” You moaned at his words, heat flaring through your body, the sound of his desperation causing your heart to flutter, his tongue flicking against your clit.

“You like hearing how much I need you?” Your head fell back against the tile, pulling on his hair again.

”Yes.” You gasped, the pressure inside you mounting in a quickening excess “God, Bucky I love it.” He growled, sending another rush of pleasure through your body, his fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

”You’re so wet for me…” He murmured, his breath hot against your core, “And I’m going to have every single drop.” One hand slipped from behind your thigh, reaching up to hold your breast, palming it gently, as he slipped his tongue inside you, moving it slowly. You felt like you were on the brink of collapse, all the sensations invading your entire body. He groaned, feeling you push against his mouth, his grip on your breast tightening just a little bit, as his thumb ran over your nipple. You unraveled one of your hands from his hair, bringing it up to hold the back of his.

“Bucky I’m…” You couldn’t manage to get your sentence out as you trembled against him, your breath hitching in your throat.

”I know…You going to come for me sweetheart?” He asked, his mouth now focusing directly on your clit, finding a pace that was so fast you could barely compose yourself before the pressure snapped inside you, your grip on his hand tightening, your nails digging into the skin as you cried out, the overstimulation ceasing your heart. Bucky wasn’t lying when he said he was going to have every single drop, his mouth moved against you like he was starved for it. Your body was trembling beneath him, as he pulled away slowly, looking up at you; his eyes wild…Worshipful even. You collapsed against the wall gasping for air, your eyes roaming over his face. His lips were swollen, covered in your arousal, his hair a mess from where you had pulled on it. He smiled at you, letting out a giddy laugh as he kissed the inside of your thigh, before bringing his forehead to your stomach, his hot breath cooling the droplets against your skin.

”Jesus Christ…” He muttered, half in disbelief, half in complete adoration, as he pressed kisses against every inch of skin he could reach, “You’re still shaking.” He commented, looking up again.

“You absolutely wrecked me.” You replied, your hands reaching down to cup his face, your thumbs running along his cheekbones as he leaned into your touch.

“Mission accomplished.” He joked, feeling your hands guiding him up so he could stand again. He raised from his kneeled position, his hands roaming your body, as he pulled you against him, so you could feel how hard he was for you.

“Bucky…I really need you right now.” You confessed, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. He pulled back for a moment.

”Are you sure?” You nodded instantly, feeling his hands behind your thighs grip, and then effortlessly lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tiled wall. His arms cradled your body like you were the most precious thing he had ever touched, and that wasn’t far off from the truth.

“I need to hear you say-.” You grabbed his face, forcing him to look in your eyes completely.

”I need you Bucky…Please.” That was all he needed to hear, as his hand left the small of your back, lining himself up with your entrance, your gaze falling on his reaction as he slowly pushed himself into you, his jaw slacking open at the warmth, his eyelids fluttering closed. He leaned forward, placing a kiss against your neck, continuing to push, the both of you savoring the sensation of going slow, taking in the feeling of being stretched.

“H-Holy fuck…” He let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head, “It’s like heaven.” He whispers, looking up at you with his pupils blown out, amazed by the sensation of you fluttering around him, his fingertips digging into your hip as he continued to push forward until he bottomed out in you, a satisfied sigh escaping into the air.

”You feel so good…I just wanna stay inside you like this.” His words sent a shiver up your spine, your nails lightly scraping against the broad muscles of his shoulders. His body was a furnace against yours, and the hot water that cascaded above the both of you made everything feel like it was on fire. His vibranium hand moved up your side, his thumb brushing over your ribcage, then moving up to cup your breast. His lips found their way to the curve of your jaw, brushing over your skin, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses wherever he could. He slowly pulled out just a little before rocking back into you, slowly picking up the pace, keeping his eyes locked onto yours, trying his best to keep the unhurried rhythm he had found. With every thrust it was like he pushed deeper, making sure you could feel every inch of him, your nails digging into his back, dragging down.

“Bucky, you feel so fucking good. “ You moaned, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his as he continued to roll his hips up into you, adjusting the angle a bit so that his cock was dragging across your g-spot, a mangled gasp coming out of your throat at the mind-numbing sensation that shot through you. Bucky felt everything, the way your body clenched around him, the heat of your ragged breath against his lips, the way your nails dug into his shoulders just a little more, and the way you closed your eyes tightly trying to focus on not getting overwhelmed with how he was making you feel.

“You like when I fuck you like this?” He asked, rutting back up into you with just a little more force than before.

”Yes!” You practically yelled, as one of your hands came off his shoulder and tangled it into his hair, “Don’t stop Bucky, please don’t fucking stop.” You begged, desperate for the snapping of his hips against yours to continue. He placed a soft kiss on your lips, pulling back.

”I wouldn’t think of it sweetheart.” He said, a dazed smile appearing on his puffy lips, glancing down at the way he was sliding in and out of you so perfectly, before returning his gaze back up to yours, “You’re so wet for me Y/N, I can’t believe how fucking good it feels…I think I’m gonna want you like this everyday now.” There was such need and longing in his voice that you felt yourself melting against him.

”Bucky, I…I fucking want it all. I want you to ruin me. Take me as your own. Please.”You cried out, as he thrusted hard at the words that fell from your mouth, the tip of his cock grazing your cervix.

“I can do that.” He whispered, his lips finding your neck, pressing you against the wall just a little more as he picked up his pace, kissing along your pulse, letting his teeth graze your skin before sinking in just enough to cause a jolt to shoot through you. You tilted your head back, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the bathroom as he grunted against your neck, his hand grabbing tightly on your thigh.

“God you’re making me lose my mind.” He moaned, breathless from the fast pace he was thrusting into you with, the coil in your stomach tightening, twisting, and burning with a fury of a thousand suns.

”I’m going to come again B-Bucky.” You could barely string that simple sentence together as your body arched into his.

”I know. I’m gonna ruin you just like you asked.” He whispered, his lips finding yours, as the both of you opened your mouths, his tongue teasing yours, his hips rolling at just the right angle so he could drag another moan out of you.

“Bucky…” His name left your lips like a prayer, your back slipping up the wall with each harsh thrust. There was no rhythm at this point, it was just mindless, and all consumed.

“I’ve got you baby. Be a good girl…Come for me.” It only took another deep, perfectly angled thrust before you shattered around him, your body clenching, trembling, lost in wave after wave of pleasure, your walls clenching tightly. Bucky followed right after, his unstable rhythm breaking as he groaned against your neck, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he let go, his grip on you digging into the sensitive flesh of your hips as he buried himself as deep as he could, filling you up with ropes of cum.

The only sounds left were ragged breaths between you, the hot shower water still falling over the both of you. Bucky didn’t move right away, he slowly took his teeth off your shoulder, observing the dark red marks that he had left, a satisfied smile pulling up on his lips, peppering soft, gentle kisses along the damage. You sighed as he leaned back just enough to look at you, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

”You’re so fucking incredible.” He whispered, pecking your lips. You smiled at him, your fingers brushing over his shoulders, feeling his arms tightening around you.

“We should wash off…Then give the bed a test drive.” You suggested. He laughed.

”Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

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