#and Echo is so... persistent

[the-bi-space-ace]

I just thought of some very good dialogue between Crosshair and Echo and now I am tempted to write a fic of them in the very beginning after Echo first joins where Echo is just so stubbornly persistent and Crosshair is Crosshair-ing in the most 'walls up, let no one in' kind of way and it doesn't even need to have a plot it just needs to exist

[zeb-z]

finished Jedi Survivor and I can’t stop thinking about how the theme throughout has always been about learning when to stop, when to let something go, and that means Bode was doomed from the beginning

[fangtasticbats]

Sometimes I need everyone to not look at me like. Pretend I do not exist. Let me ghost through the rooms and don't look up when I pass. Let me leave a chill in the air.

Sometimes I, like a cat, need to just sit next to someone and sometimes bother them a little by being too nosy.

Other times, I need someone to lay on top of me and squish my soul back into my body. Maybe I need a weighted blanket, y'know?

[impossibleprincess35]

The Echo and the Stain | ch 32

[Excerpt:]

Obi-Wan had waited long enough for her to respond, but instead, she appeared to disassociate. Terrible ideas about what occurred when she was out of his safety came to him, and he stepped towards her and asked authoritatively, “What happened with him, Satine?”

Her eyes would not make contact with him, and her effort to respond casually failed as she glossed over it and said in a shaky voice, “Nothing happened.”

The sleeping gown she wore billowed around her, down to her calves, but the moonlight pouring through the window made the fabric somewhat sheer, just enough that he could make out the shape of her body beneath it. He looked for signs of bandages or contusions in her silhouette, and he could see nothing out of the ordinary except for the rag she had wrapped around her palm.

Obi-Wan outstretched a hand, and when she didn’t back away, the padawan gently took her by the chin and turned her head in different directions, looking for signs of Pre Vizsla’s mark staining her skin. A yellowing bruise, a broken blood vessel, something.

Satine looked ashamed with downcast eyes as he turned her head to and fro, and she murmured quietly, “He knows better than to leave a mark where someone would see, kebiin.”

His jaw clenched as he lingered between anger and jealousy, but his touch remained gentle, and as he walked around her and lifted loose strands of hair to peek at the nape of her neck, he came across as flirtatious as he remarked unintentionally, “Are you suggesting that I ask you to undress?”

Satine closed her eyes when his fingers grazed along her neck and she coached herself through the instinct to flinch, and she reminded herself that she was safe, as he was so close to her that she could feel his breath on her ear. She turned her head aside just an inch so she could see him, and empowered by the way he stared back at her, she whispered suggestively, “If you asked me, I would.”

--

Chapter 32 is up.

[skrunksthatwunk]

me looking at a character with a completely different personality internal world and external context than me: they're just like me fr

i can find myself in the heart of anyone

[aggressive-almond-cookie]

There are days when I wish my memory would be wiped just so I could play octo expansion for the first time again.

[north-starrs]

Pointing at you. You know who you are.

I still think about Hadily and Ripto. And I still adore them.

But in the same vein of small and large partners that include a dragonkin with pink fluff, might I tell you about Topazel and (World of Warcraft) Dejan?

[mcrdvcks]

electric touch

summary: You technically aren't a member of the New Avengers, but you live at the Watchtower and help the team out during missions. The most interesting part? Bucky seems to have a crush on you, the quiet, brooding, mysterious woman. word count: 13.9k+ pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader notes: one of my fav tropes i've seen with thunderbolts!bucky is the secret wife trope, so here's my take on it :) this is also only my second time writing for bucky, and my first time writing smut for him, so let me know if it's accurate! warnings/tags: takes place after thunderbolts*, bamf!reader, grumpy x grumpy (but really bucky is kinda sunshine?), secret relationship/marriage, reader is "brooding" and "cold", bucky is a lover boy, smut, slight sub!bucky, slight dom!reader, unprotected piv, creampie, light violence, mention of injury

The Watchtower had been quiet for exactly six minutes when John's voice shattered the peace. "He's doing it again."

Yelena sighed dramatically, not looking up from her phone. "Who’s doing what again?"

John jerked his chin toward the kitchen counter, where Bucky leaned casually, arms crossed. His eyes were fixed across the common area, following you as you silently poured a mug of coffee.

Ava glanced up from the couch, eyes rolling. "Oh. Barnes."

"Again?" Alexei chuckled from his seat next to Yelena, slapping the table enthusiastically. "He’s staring like sad puppy, no? Maybe we throw him a bone?"

Yelena finally glanced up, smirking. "Careful, Dad. Barnes has super hearing. He might overhear your plans."

Alexei scoffed, shrugging his massive shoulders. "So he hears. I say it to his face: Barnes, ask the scary one out already."

Bucky turned slightly, arching a brow. "I’m good, thanks."

"No, clearly you are not," Alexei persisted, enjoying himself. "All this mooning and sighing and staring. Pathetic."

"I’m not mooning."

John snorted. "You’re definitely mooning."

Bucky glared halfheartedly, shifting uncomfortably as you moved past them silently, mug in hand, offering nothing but a faint nod. Once you vanished back down the hall, the conversation reignited in earnest.

Bob glanced up from his seat nearby, his brow pinched slightly in mild confusion. "Wait—so Bucky likes Y/N?"

"Thank you, Bob," Ava murmured dryly. "Keep up."

"But…" Bob tilted his head thoughtfully. "Has he even tried talking to her?"

Yelena smirked at Bucky. "Yeah, Bucky, have you even tried talking?"

Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, fighting a smile. "I talk plenty."

Ava laughed softly. "You stare plenty. Talking, not so much."

"Just ask her out," John said, crossing his arms smugly. "Worst she could do is ignore you—like she already does."

The team burst into laughter. Even Bob managed a shy chuckle. Bucky shook his head, smiling faintly as he turned toward the hallway you'd taken moments before.

"Maybe," he muttered dryly, setting down his empty coffee cup. "Someday."

"Maybe someday," Alexei echoed dramatically. "This is tragedy."

Bucky ignored the loud chatter behind him, wandering slowly toward your shared quarters at the far end of the hall.

---

Inside your quiet room, you sat cross-legged on the bed, reading calmly. You didn’t look up when he closed the door behind him.

"Your teammates are idiots," you murmured, turning a page.

Bucky smiled softly, eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. He walked toward you, sinking easily onto the bed beside you, immediately leaning his head onto your shoulder. "They just think you're intimidating."

"I am intimidating."

"Yes, sweetheart." He tilted his head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. "Terrifying."

You hummed quietly, setting your book aside as his metal fingers gently traced over your wrist. You shifted, finally looking directly at him, raising a brow. "They also think you're pining hopelessly."

Bucky laughed, rich and genuine, nudging your shoulder affectionately. "Who says I'm not?"

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth curved upwards faintly. "James."

He smiled, teasing gently, eyes bright. "What?"

You sighed, feigning irritation, but the softness in your gaze betrayed you. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," he agreed easily, leaning closer, lips brushing tenderly along your jawline. "But I'm yours."

You huffed softly, fingers sliding gently into his hair, pulling him closer until your lips met, warm and familiar and private.

"Unfortunately," you teased softly as you parted, foreheads resting together.

He smiled brightly, utterly content. "Someday we should tell them."

"Eventually," you conceded dryly, settling back against his chest comfortably. "But would you really take away my only source of entertainment?"

Bucky chuckled quietly, his fingers brushing lightly along your shoulder. "I wouldn’t dream of it."

You hummed, eyes falling shut as you relaxed against him, the quiet settling around you both.

"I still think we should at least tell Yelena," he mused after a moment. "She’s pretty sharp. Might figure it out on her own."

You scoffed softly. "Please. She thinks you’re pining after me. Clearly, her observational skills aren’t that impressive."

Bucky laughed, pressing another quick kiss against your temple. "Harsh."

"True," you corrected.

He smiled against your skin, his metal arm tightening around you slightly. "Fair enough."

The comfortable silence stretched between you, only broken by your quiet breathing and the distant laughter of the team down the hall. After a moment, you turned slightly, glancing at him with a faint smirk.

"Barnes," you said, voice dry and amused. "Were you really mooning?"

He tilted his head back, groaning dramatically. "Not you too."

You shrugged casually, barely hiding your smile. "I'm just confirming. For clarity."

"Well, I wasn’t," he insisted, eyes sparkling. "I was just... observing."

"Right," you drawled. "Observing."

"Exactly," he nodded solemnly, biting back a smile. "Observing my scary, intimidating, secretly soft-hearted wife."

"Don’t push it," you warned, poking his chest gently. "I’ve got a reputation to uphold."

"Trust me, sweetheart," Bucky teased, voice warm and gentle, "no one's doubting your reputation."

You huffed again, leaning up to kiss him softly, muttering against his lips, "You're lucky you're cute."

"I know," he grinned brightly, eyes crinkling as he drew you closer again. "Very lucky."

You rolled your eyes, hiding your smile against his chest as the comfortable silence returned, content to enjoy each other’s company without interruptions.

---

Two days later, you wandered into the common area, pausing briefly as you spotted the team huddled around the TV, eyes glued to the screen. "What's this?" you asked dryly.

"Movie night," Ava replied, glancing back at you. "Join us?"

You shook your head slightly, making your way toward the kitchen. "I'll pass."

Yelena smirked, not taking her eyes off the TV. "Shocking."

Bucky looked up, catching your gaze. "C’mon, doll. Stay for a little bit."

You paused, arching an eyebrow pointedly at him. "Why would I?"

He shrugged innocently, leaning back into the couch. "For the pleasure of our charming company?"

John snorted. "Real subtle, Barnes."

Alexei chuckled, tossing popcorn into his mouth. "He tries."

You ignored them, continuing your path to the coffee machine. You barely managed to pour yourself a cup before you heard Bucky's quiet footsteps approaching. He leaned casually against the counter beside you, arms folded, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

"Nice pajamas," he teased quietly, glancing at your oversized sweatshirt and leggings.

"Keep it up," you muttered dryly. "See if you ever get to borrow them again."

He chuckled softly, leaning in slightly closer, voice low and warm. "We’re overdue for date night."

You sipped your coffee, glancing at him sideways. "You’re getting needy."

"Maybe," he admitted shamelessly, nudging you gently. "But I prefer 'romantic.'"

"Gross."

"You love it," he murmured warmly.

"Unfortunately," you agreed softly, finally turning toward him. "Fine. Date night. But I'm picking."

"As long as it’s not another stakeout, sweetheart."

"No promises," you teased, sipping your coffee again as you turned away. "Now go watch your movie."

He chuckled, shaking his head fondly as you disappeared down the hallway. When he turned back toward the couch, he found the entire team staring at him, various expressions of disbelief on their faces. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

Alexei pointed at him accusingly. "You talked. Actual conversation."

Ava raised an eyebrow. "She didn't stab you."

Yelena shook her head, smiling slightly. "Barnes, you might actually have a chance."

"Yeah, maybe in twenty years," John snorted.

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, settling back onto the couch comfortably. "Told you—I talk plenty."

Bob nodded slowly, genuinely impressed. "Good job, Bucky."

"Thanks, Bob." Bucky smiled, eyes flicking briefly toward the hall. "I'm working on it."

---

The following evening, you leaned quietly against the wall, watching with mild interest as Bucky sparred against John on the training mats. The rest of the team lingered around the room, half-training, half-observing the two men in action.

Alexei crossed his arms, grinning broadly. "Come on, Barnes! Use metal arm—show Walker who's boss."

"He's trying to train," Yelena drawled from beside you. "Not murder our teammate."

Alexei shrugged, unconvinced. "Little murder builds character."

You didn't react outwardly, but your lips twitched slightly in amusement.

Across the mats, John ducked away from Bucky’s fist, panting slightly. "You holding back, Barnes?"

Bucky smirked, circling him easily. "Just going easy on you."

John scoffed. "Bullshit. You’re distracted."

"Distracted?" Bucky echoed mildly, his eyes briefly flicking in your direction.

John followed his gaze knowingly, smirking. "Yeah. Distracted."

Bucky sighed dramatically, rolling his shoulders as he pretended to think. "Right. Got my mind on other things."

"Or other people," Ava muttered dryly from the punching bag.

Yelena smirked, elbowing you gently. "Look at that. Bucky still pining away."

You kept your expression neutral, voice flat. "Tragic."

On the mat, Bucky caught John's fist in his metal hand, twisting lightly. "Ready to yield yet?"

John grumbled, pulling his hand free. "Fine, fine. Jesus."

Bucky chuckled, stepping back easily, eyes sliding again to you. "Who's next?"

Yelena nudged you lightly. "Why not you, Y/N? Barnes clearly wants your attention."

You exhaled slowly, stepping away from the wall toward the mat. "Fine."

The team fell into immediate silence as you moved toward Bucky, standing opposite him calmly. He raised an eyebrow, his mouth curved into a teasing grin. "Careful, doll. I bruise easily."

"You’ll live," you muttered, stretching your arms briefly.

John backed off the mats, smirking. "This oughta be good."

Bucky circled you slowly, voice low enough only you could hear. "You gonna let me win?"

"Absolutely not."

"Good," he murmured, lunging forward easily, eyes bright with amusement.

You sidestepped him effortlessly, landing a swift blow to his ribs. Bucky laughed softly, twisting away, clearly enjoying himself.

"Think they're flirting?" Alexei loudly whispered to Yelena.

"If by flirting you mean trying to kill each other," Ava remarked dryly, "then yes."

Bucky caught your wrist gently, pulling you slightly toward him. "Having fun yet?"

You rolled your eyes slightly, easily slipping your wrist from his grip. "Always."

"Good," he chuckled, stepping closer, voice dropping softer. "Me too."

"You’re ridiculous," you murmured quietly.

"I know," he agreed cheerfully, just before you swept his leg neatly, sending him sprawling onto the mats with a loud thud.

The team collectively winced.

Bucky blinked up at you, laughing as you offered him your hand to pull him up. "Had enough?" you asked calmly.

He took your hand, pulling himself smoothly to his feet, voice warm and teasing as he leaned close. "Not even close."

"Gross," John muttered.

"Agreed," Ava smirked, returning her attention to her training bag.

Bucky stepped back reluctantly, smiling easily as he rubbed his ribs. "Thanks for the match, doll."

You rolled your eyes, hiding your faint smile. “Just to be clear, I’m still waiting for date night. This doesn’t count.”

Bucky chuckled quietly, running a hand through his slightly mussed hair. “Fair enough. Tomorrow?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Demanding, Barnes.”

He smirked softly. “Consider it enthusiastic.”

“Same difference,” you muttered dryly, turning away. “Tomorrow works.”

You started back toward the edge of the mats, ignoring the curious looks from the team. Ava raised an eyebrow as you passed her.

“You okay, Barnes?” John called out teasingly. “Your ego survive that?”

Bucky snorted, dusting himself off easily. “Think I'll recover.”

Alexei shook his head, looking impressed. “She is formidable opponent. Why you not recruit her officially, Yelena?”

Yelena shrugged lightly, glancing toward you. “Because I value my life.”

Bob smiled faintly, watching Bucky closely. “You sure you’re okay, Bucky?”

Bucky waved him off casually, smirking. “Don’t worry about me, Bob. I've handled worse.”

“You’re sure?” Bob asked again, earnest concern in his voice. “She’s pretty tough.”

Bucky laughed warmly, eyes briefly flicking toward you as you leaned against the wall again. “Trust me—I noticed.”

“Clearly,” John snickered, elbowing Ava gently. “Look at that face. Pure puppy dog.”

Ava rolled her eyes fondly. “Careful, Walker, or he might actually kill you.”

“I might,” Bucky agreed, eyes playful as he reached for a towel, wiping his face casually.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Bob wondered quietly, looking genuinely puzzled again.

“Yeah,” Yelena echoed dryly. “Why don’t you, Barnes?”

Bucky sighed dramatically, shaking his head in mock despair. “I told you—I’m working on it.”

You watched quietly from your spot against the wall, expression neutral, coffee mug clasped in your hands. Bucky’s gaze caught yours briefly, warmth flickering across his eyes for just a moment before he turned away.

Yelena sighed dramatically, standing and stretching her arms lazily over her head. “Tragic,” she said flatly. “Come on, let’s wrap up. Alexei promised pizza.”

Alexei beamed proudly. “Extra pineapple for Bob!”

“I don’t actually like pineapple—” Bob started softly, then sighed and smiled. “Never mind.”

John clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “You’ll learn, Bob.”

The team slowly started to file out of the training room, chatting loudly amongst themselves. Bucky lingered behind, waiting until the others had vanished before moving quietly toward you.

“Pizza?” he asked quietly, nudging your shoulder gently.

You tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Fine.”

He smiled warmly, leaning closer and murmuring quietly. “You’re secretly excited, admit it.”

You snorted softly, hiding a faint smile behind your mug. “Don’t push it.”

Bucky’s smile widened into a grin as he straightened again, falling easily into step beside you. “Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you muttered dryly, sipping your coffee. “Wouldn’t want to have to hurt you again.”

He laughed warmly, eyes bright with affection as you moved quietly toward the elevator. “You love me too much to hurt me.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping into the elevator beside him, voice calm and casual. “Don’t be so sure.”

He smiled softly, watching you from the corner of his eye, quiet amusement lingering between you both. The elevator doors slid shut quietly, enclosing you both in comfortable silence.

---

You stepped quietly into the common area, where the team had already settled around the table, chatting loudly. Bob smiled at you shyly as he moved over to make space.

Alexei waved enthusiastically. "Y/N! You join us, excellent! Come, come, sit!"

You sank smoothly into the chair next to Bob, giving a faint nod. Across from you, Bucky's eyes lifted briefly, lingering on you with mild curiosity. You met his gaze evenly, then casually unzipped your half-zip pullover just a little bit further, revealing the faintest glimpse of delicate white lace beneath.

Bucky's eyes flicked immediately downward, then shot quickly back up to yours, clearly startled. He shifted slightly in his seat, clearing his throat softly.

"Alright there, Barnes?" John asked casually, reaching for a slice.

"Yeah," Bucky murmured, forcing his gaze down to the pizza. "Fine."

You ate quietly, barely participating in conversation but very aware of Bucky's occasional discreet glances your way. Every subtle movement you made—reaching for a napkin, shifting slightly—gave him brief but intentional glimpses of lace against your skin.

Bucky swallowed hard, eyes narrowing slightly each time he caught sight of you, clearly struggling to maintain his composure.

"You’re quiet tonight, Y/N," Ava commented casually, glancing over at you.

"She is always quiet," Alexei scoffed, grinning broadly. "Like silent assassin, no?"

You shrugged slightly, voice low. "Just tired."

"Or plotting," John muttered teasingly.

"Possibly," you agreed blandly, ignoring Bucky's slightly tense posture. After a few more minutes, you rose smoothly from your chair, setting your napkin down quietly. "I'm turning in."

"So soon?" Alexei called, looking disappointed. "Night still young!"

"Goodnight," you replied dryly, heading quietly toward the hallway.

You felt Bucky’s gaze on your back, heavy and heated. You barely made it halfway to the bedroom when you heard his chair scrape back, followed closely by Alexei's loud chuckle and John's amused muttering.

You entered the room first, stepping calmly inside, hearing the door click shut quietly behind Bucky a few moments later. You glanced back at him casually, watching as he leaned heavily against the door, eyes dark.

"You really enjoy torturing me, don't you?" he murmured dryly, his voice low and rough.

You tilted your head slightly, feigning confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He stepped toward you slowly, expression skeptical. "Really?"

You arched an eyebrow innocently. "Problem?"

"Yeah," he muttered softly, his eyes trailing slowly downward, lingering pointedly on the now-visible lace beneath your shirt. "That’s a problem."

You shrugged casually, turning away from him and starting to pull off your pullover, leaving you standing comfortably in leggings and your white lace bra. "Just a bra, Barnes."

He huffed softly, moving closer until he stood right behind you, hands gently settling on your hips. "It’s more than just a bra, doll."

You tilted your head back slightly against his chest, lips twitching faintly. "Punishment for delaying date night."

He groaned softly, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. "You’re cruel."

"Maybe," you conceded calmly, turning slowly in his arms to face him. Your eyes softened slightly as you reached up, gently cupping his jaw. "But you deserve it."

He sighed dramatically, but his mouth curved into a faint smirk as his lips brushed lightly against yours. "Fine. Guilty."

Your lips met again slowly, soft and teasing at first, then gradually deeper. You sighed quietly against his mouth, sliding your hands into his hair, tugging gently. He gripped your hips a little tighter, pulling you closer until your bodies pressed together firmly.

You pulled away gently after a few more lingering kisses, smiling faintly at his dazed expression. "I'm taking a shower. Alone."

Bucky groaned softly again, giving you something close to a pout as he reluctantly released you. "Really?"

"Really," you replied firmly, stepping back toward the bathroom. "Consider it payback."

"Sweetheart," he started pleadingly, reaching for your hand, eyes wide and hopeful.

You shook your head, lips twitching slightly with amusement. "My decision stands."

He sighed heavily, dramatically collapsing onto the bed, watching you move toward the bathroom door with exaggerated despair. "You're killing me."

"You'll live," you said dryly, shooting him one final teasing glance before disappearing into the bathroom.

You shut the door quietly, smiling faintly to yourself as you heard him mutter a quiet, resigned curse on the other side.

---

You woke slowly the next morning, blinking sleepily in the muted sunlight filtering through the curtains. Bucky’s steady breathing was warm against your neck, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. You shifted slightly, feeling him stir behind you.

"Morning," you murmured softly.

He hummed sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss against your shoulder. "Morning, sweetheart."

"Still pouting?"

"Maybe a little," he admitted, voice thick with sleep as he nuzzled gently against your neck. "You’re mean."

"You deserved it," you murmured quietly, shifting back against him slightly.

He hummed softly, lips brushing warmly against your skin. "Maybe. But you enjoy it way too much."

"Maybe," you echoed dryly, feeling his hand slip from your waist down toward your hip, fingers tracing slowly beneath the edge of your shirt.

Bucky’s lips moved lazily over your shoulder, teeth grazing gently as his leg slid slowly between yours, pressing softly until your breath caught. His metal hand drifted lower, fingertips teasing the waistband of your underwear.

"James," you warned quietly, eyes closing slowly.

"Hm?" he murmured innocently, pressing a warm kiss just below your ear.

You sighed softly, relaxing slightly against him. "We should probably—"

A loud knock at the door shattered the quiet moment. Bucky groaned deeply, dropping his forehead heavily onto your shoulder.

"Barnes!" Yelena’s voice called sharply through the door. "Alexei made pancakes. And he’s offended you’re not here."

Bucky sighed dramatically against your skin, hand withdrawing reluctantly. "Tell him I’m busy."

Yelena paused a moment before knocking again, harder. "No. Get up. He’ll mope."

You rolled your eyes, lightly patting Bucky’s thigh. "Duty calls."

"Don’t care," he muttered petulantly, tightening his arm around your waist again. "I want pancakes with you, not them."

"Barnes!" Yelena snapped again, louder now. "Don’t make me break the door."

"Alright, alright," Bucky called back irritably, sighing heavily as he finally released you, rolling onto his back dramatically. "Be right there."

You turned onto your side, watching him quietly, eyebrow raised faintly. "Tragic."

"Very," he agreed solemnly, glaring half-heartedly at the ceiling.

You leaned over, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to his jawline before standing smoothly from the bed. "I'll make it up to you later."

Bucky’s pout softened into a hopeful smirk. "Promise?"

"Maybe," you said dryly, walking to your dresser. "Now get up, Barnes. Can’t keep the kids waiting."

He sighed loudly, reluctantly dragging himself out of bed as you quietly slipped into your leggings. "You sure you don’t want to stay in bed? I’ll fake an injury."

"You’re pathetic," you murmured, lips twitching faintly as you headed toward the door. "Now move."

He groaned softly again, following you toward the door. "Fine. But I reserve the right to sulk."

"You always do," you muttered, stepping out into the hallway without another glance, leaving him shaking his head fondly behind you.

---

Later in the day, you were leaning against the kitchen counter, eating an apple while reading a book. The rest of the team was scattered around—Yelena, Alexei, and Bob chatting animatedly by the fridge, John and Ava lazily lounging on the couch in the living room, TV quietly droning.

You barely looked up when Bucky approached, quietly leaning next to you, close enough for your shoulders to brush. He crossed his arms casually, eyes fixed on your face with a faint smile.

"Got us reservations at Il Mulino tonight," he murmured softly, voice low enough that only you could hear.

You took another bite of your apple, flipping the page. "I don’t want Italian."

He tilted his head slightly, eyes crinkling in amusement. "Since when don’t you want Italian?"

"Since now," you replied evenly, eyes not leaving your page. "I want a burger."

Bucky chuckled softly, bumping your shoulder gently with his. "You’re killin’ me, doll. It’s impossible to get into that burger place of yours last minute."

"Red Hook Tavern," you corrected calmly. "And I have faith in you, Barnes."

He sighed dramatically, nudging you again. "Yeah, yeah, I’ll figure something out. But you owe me."

You finally glanced up at him, eyes narrowed slightly. "For what? You owe me."

He smiled sheepishly, ducking his head. "Fair point."

Across the kitchen, Yelena elbowed Bob discreetly, both watching your quiet exchange with curiosity. "Are they… arguing?" Bob whispered uncertainly, brows furrowing.

Alexei snorted, shaking his head confidently. "No, Bob, this is called flirting. Barnes is flirting badly."

John glanced over from the couch, smirking faintly. "Bucky’s gonna strike out again."

Ava rolled her eyes lightly, voice amused. "Poor guy never learns."

Back at the counter, Bucky leaned in closer, lips nearly brushing your ear. "You know I spoil you, doll."

You hummed softly, voice deadpan. "Burger or nothing."

He huffed a laugh, stepping back slightly, smiling affectionately. "Fine. Burger it is."

"Good." You bit your apple again, returning your attention fully to your book. "Glad that's settled."

He lingered for another moment, watching you quietly with a faint, private smile before finally turning away, walking casually toward the elevator.

The second the doors slid shut behind him, Yelena smirked openly at you from across the kitchen. "Y/N, did Barnes finally work up the courage to ask you out?"

You glanced at her briefly, expression unreadable. "No."

Alexei groaned loudly, slapping his palm dramatically against his forehead. "Pathetic!"

Bob looked genuinely confused, tilting his head slightly. "But they talk all the time."

Yelena shook her head, sighing deeply. "It's complicated, Bob. Barnes pines. Y/N tolerates."

You ignored their chatter, turning quietly away to head down the hall toward your rarely-used room, your expression carefully neutral.

"You're all wrong," John drawled loudly from the couch. "She's just plotting how to murder him."

Ava smiled faintly, eyes still fixed on the TV. "Honestly, who could blame her?"

Yelena sighed dramatically again, leaning her hip against the counter. "Tragic."

You didn't bother responding, closing your bedroom door quietly behind you, a faint, hidden smile touching your lips as you reached for your phone to text Bucky a single word: "Burger?"

His response was almost immediate, playful and warm: "Anything for you, sweetheart."

---

A few hours later, you stepped out of the elevator and into the common area, quietly slipping past the team, who were sprawled out comfortably, watching some mindless action movie.

Yelena glanced up, eyebrows rising curiously. "Whoa. Where you going dressed like that?"

"Out," you replied evenly, adjusting the sleeve of your jacket slightly.

"Out?" John echoed suspiciously, eyes narrowing slightly. "Since when do you go out?"

You shrugged calmly, heading toward the door without looking back. "Since now."

Alexei squinted suspiciously, nudging Bob hard. "You see, Bob? Very mysterious. This one has secret life, I tell you."

Bob blinked slowly, clearly puzzled. "Really?"

Ava rolled her eyes fondly. "Probably just going to scare people for fun."

You didn't respond, stepping smoothly through the doors and disappearing down the hall.

---

Five minutes later, Bucky emerged casually from his room, wearing a dark jacket and looking unusually put together. He adjusted his collar, glancing casually around the room as he headed for the exit.

John's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And where exactly are you headed, Barnes?"

"Got some errands to run," Bucky said easily, not breaking his stride.

"Errands?" Yelena repeated skeptically. "At night?"

He shrugged lightly, shooting her a casual smirk. "I like running errands."

Alexei shook his head, sighing loudly. "Two secret lives under one roof. This team falling apart."

Bob glanced uncertainly between the group. "But—"

"Don't hurt yourself thinking, Bob," Ava interrupted dryly.

Bob sighed softly. "Okay."

"Don't wait up," Bucky called over his shoulder, stepping quickly into the elevator and hitting the button for the ground floor, ignoring the curious stares that followed him.

---

Outside, you stood leaning casually against the side of the building, arms crossed loosely as you waited. The busy Manhattan streets hummed with distant traffic, lights casting a soft glow against the pavement.

When the doors finally opened, Bucky stepped out, immediately breaking into a warm smile as he caught sight of you. "Hey, sweetheart," he murmured softly, walking toward you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Fancy meeting you here."

You gave him a deadpan look. "Took you long enough."

He chuckled quietly, leaning down to press a soft, quick kiss against your cheek. "Sorry. Had to shake the interrogation."

You rolled your eyes, stepping smoothly into pace beside him as you both began walking. "They suspicious?"

"Always," he sighed dramatically, sliding an arm comfortably around your waist. "Luckily, they're clueless."

You hummed softly, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "Good."

Bucky nudged you gently, voice teasing. "You look good."

You glanced at him sideways, eyebrow arching faintly. "Better appreciate it. I don't dress up for just anyone."

He laughed quietly, tugging you a bit closer to him as you walked. "Believe me, doll, I'm honored."

"Gross," you muttered lightly, hiding your smile against his shoulder as he laughed again, the two of you disappearing together into the lively Manhattan evening.

---

The two of you settled comfortably into the subway seats, the train gently rumbling beneath you as it moved toward Brooklyn. Bucky sat close, thigh pressed against yours, arm casually draped over the back of your seat.

"You know," he murmured playfully, eyes fixed on the dark windows flashing by, "we could've taken a car."

You scoffed lightly, leaning back. "And miss watching you navigate public transportation? Never."

He laughed softly, nudging your shoulder with his. "I'm not that bad."

"You still stare suspiciously at the turnstiles."

"They beep at me," he muttered defensively. "Makes me nervous."

You hummed dryly. "Super soldier, war hero—intimidated by a turnstile."

He sighed dramatically, squeezing your shoulder lightly. "You’re mean, sweetheart."

"You married me," you pointed out calmly.

"Must've been temporarily insane," he teased, lips brushing your temple softly. "Lucky for me, the condition’s permanent."

You rolled your eyes faintly, though a hidden smile curled your lips. "You realize you're flirting with your own wife, right?"

"Constantly," he admitted shamelessly. "You complaining?"

"No," you murmured softly, leaning your head onto his shoulder. "But don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," he chuckled softly, kissing the crown of your head.

The train finally slowed, pulling into your stop. You stood easily, Bucky’s hand sliding naturally into yours as you navigated the crowds, stepping onto the platform and heading up toward the Brooklyn streets.

---

Red Hook Tavern was warm, cozy, bustling comfortably with chatter. A low, mellow soundtrack filled the space, the scent of burgers and fries thick in the air. Bucky guided you gently through the small crowd, settling into a quiet booth toward the back.

You leaned back, breathing in contentedly. "See? Better than pasta."

Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling faintly. "You win. Happy now?"

"Very," you replied dryly, eyes glinting with faint amusement.

He watched you thoughtfully for a moment, his expression softening. "You're cute when you're smug."

You narrowed your eyes slightly. "Careful, Barnes."

"What?" He smiled innocently, leaning across the table. "Just appreciating my date."

"Again," you muttered fondly, "you're married."

He shrugged casually, glancing down at the menu. "Just means I have exceptional taste."

You hid your smile behind your menu, shaking your head lightly. "Ridiculous."

"You love it."

"Unfortunately," you conceded, setting your menu aside as the waitress approached.

---

An hour later, the two of you wandered quietly through Brooklyn’s quieter streets, fingers intertwined, the glow of streetlights casting soft shadows on the pavement. "Happy?" Bucky asked softly, glancing down at you with a gentle smile.

"Surprisingly," you replied evenly, leaning slightly against his side as you walked.

He nudged you playfully. "I'm sensing a compliment."

"Don't get used to it."

He chuckled quietly, voice warm. "Wouldn't dream of it."

You walked in comfortable silence for a few more blocks, the soft hum of distant traffic and nightlife filling the spaces between you.

"You ever gonna let them know?" Bucky finally asked, tone carefully casual. "The team?"

You sighed quietly, eyes flicking up toward him briefly. "Eventually. Just… not yet."

He squeezed your hand lightly, understanding. "Whatever you want, doll."

"Thank you," you murmured softly, leaning your head against his arm as you continued walking.

Bucky smiled warmly down at you, his voice quiet and teasing. "Don't worry. They’re all still convinced you hate me."

You snorted softly. "Good."

"Harsh," he murmured fondly.

"True," you countered dryly.

He laughed softly again, gently guiding you toward the subway entrance, heading back toward the Watchtower.

---

You stepped back into the Watchtower quietly, slipping from Bucky’s side as the elevator doors opened. He lingered behind a minute, watching as you vanished silently into his room, maintaining the illusion carefully.

The common room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the city through the large windows and the soft overhead lights from the kitchen. It seemed deserted until Yelena suddenly appeared, leaning casually against the fridge with a glass of water in hand.

"Late errands, Barnes?" she asked pointedly, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Something like that," Bucky replied easily, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the nearest chair.

She hummed, eyes glinting mischievously. "Interesting. Because Y/N just got back too. Coincidence?"

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms comfortably. "It’s Manhattan, Lena. Not exactly a small town."

"Right," she drawled sarcastically. "So just an innocent coincidence."

He tilted his head slightly, smirking faintly. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"I don’t," she said mildly, taking a sip of her water. "But Alexei’s invested. He thinks you’re finally making progress."

"Glad he's entertained," Bucky muttered dryly, pushing away from the counter and heading toward his room. "Night, Lena."

"Goodnight, Barnes," she called after him, amusement still evident in her voice. "Sleep well."

---

Bucky stepped quietly into his room, shutting the door behind him softly. The bathroom door was closed, the lights shining from underneath the door. He sighed comfortably, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it casually onto a nearby chair. Moving toward his dresser, he opened a drawer, sifting lazily through shirts and sweatpants.

The bathroom door clicked softly open behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder absently, then froze. His eyes widened, then narrowed appreciatively, gaze sweeping slowly from head to toe. You leaned casually against the doorframe, completely at ease in a two-piece lingerie set—deep emerald green, his favorite color—with a short black silk robe hanging loosely off your shoulders.

Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily speechless. "Jesus," he muttered faintly under his breath.

You arched a single eyebrow, expression carefully neutral. "See something you like, Barnes?"

"God, yes," he admitted shamelessly, turning fully to face you, eyes lingering appreciatively. "Special occasion?"

You shrugged casually, pushing off from the doorframe and walking slowly toward him. "You finally came through on date night. I figured you deserved a reward."

He chuckled softly, his voice low as his eyes tracked every subtle movement. "Remind me to always give you exactly what you want."

You hummed quietly, stopping mere inches from him, tilting your head slightly upward. "Smart man."

He reached out carefully, fingers grazing softly along the smooth silk fabric of your robe. His gaze flicked warmly to yours, playful and heated. "How long have you been hiding this?"

You met his stare evenly, unbothered. "Long enough."

He smiled faintly, tugging you gently closer by the ties of your robe. "Tease."

"Maybe," you conceded quietly, not resisting as he slowly pulled you closer, lips hovering just above yours. "But you're into it."

"Very," he murmured softly, finally capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His hand slipped beneath your robe, gently sliding along your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You sighed softly, pressing closer, fingers tangling lazily into his hair. "Told you I’d make it up to you."

He hummed appreciatively against your lips. "You're definitely forgiven."

"Good," you replied dryly, guiding him backward until his legs hit the edge of the bed, and he sank easily onto it, hands settling firmly on your hips. You stood comfortably between his knees, looking down at him calmly, your fingers drifting slowly along his jawline.

"You’re staring," he teased softly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You love it," you murmured bluntly.

He chuckled warmly, tilting his head up to kiss your fingertips softly. "Unfortunately."

"Thought so," you replied evenly, finally sliding onto his lap, knees settling easily on either side of him.

His eyes fluttered briefly shut, breath hitching as your weight settled comfortably over him. "You're killing me."

"You’ll live," you said flatly, fingers slowly trailing down his chest, teasing the edges of his shirt. "Now take this off."

He obeyed quickly, tugging his shirt easily over his head, tossing it aside without a glance. His hands returned immediately to your waist, sliding slowly upward, fingertips grazing gently along the lace covering your ribs.

"Beautiful," he murmured softly, eyes warm as he leaned forward, lips brushing gently against your collarbone.

You tilted your head slightly back, eyes closing softly. "I know."

Bucky laughed quietly against your skin, warm breath ghosting along your neck. "And humble."

"Shut up, Barnes," you muttered quietly, pulling his face back up to yours, capturing his lips firmly.

He smiled into the kiss, deepening it slowly, hands tightening gently on your hips, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you. Your breath hitched, body flush to his, silk brushing skin with every shift. You tugged his bottom lip with your teeth before pulling back just enough to murmur:

“Move up.”

Bucky blinked, caught off guard, then smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”

He shifted up the bed without argument, head brushing the headboard, arms propped behind him. You stayed on his lap the entire time, thighs bracketing his, your robe sliding further open with every slight movement, the soft lace of your bra brushing against his bare chest.

You rolled your hips forward, slow, just enough friction to make his hands fly to your waist again. His breath stuttered.

“Fuck, doll…”

“You’re still overdressed,” you muttered, fingers already working his belt loose, eyes fixed on the buckle like it offended you.

He chuckled low. “Can’t say no when you look at me like that.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you replied flatly, shoving his pants and briefs down far enough to free him, eyes flicking up to catch the way his jaw tensed.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered, gaze locked on the way you curled your fingers around him, stroking just enough to make him hiss.

You didn’t waste time. Just shifted your weight, pushed your underwear to the side, lined him up, and sank down in one slow, steady motion. His head thudded softly against the wall behind him.

“Goddamn—” he hissed between his teeth, hands gripping your hips hard. “You feel—fuck, doll—perfect.”

Your brows knit briefly, jaw clenching as you adjusted to the stretch, but you didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. You lowered until he was fully inside, buried to the hilt, and only then did you pause—just to make sure he felt every inch of you around him.

He reached up, brushing your cheek with one hand, voice low. “You okay?”

You met his gaze, flat and unreadable, but your voice was rough when you replied. “Yeah. Shut up.”

Bucky just laughed, breathless. “Knew you loved me.”

You started to move—slow, controlled rolls of your hips that had him swearing under his breath, fingers twitching against your waist like he was trying not to force your pace. He didn’t have to. You had a rhythm, deliberate and maddening.

“You're tryin’ to kill me,” he groaned, head tilted back.

You leaned forward slightly, hands braced on his chest, spine arching as you rocked against him again. “If I wanted you dead, Barnes, you'd already be a corpse.”

“Shit, that’s hot,” he muttered, grip tightening again.

You smirked faintly, then leaned in, lips brushing his. “Told you I don’t dress up for just anyone.”

“And I told you,” he growled, sitting up to meet you halfway, “I’m honored.”

You reached between you and yanked on his dog tags, jerking him into a hard kiss. He groaned into it, mouth slanted against yours as his hands slid down, one settling firmly on your ass, the other at the small of your back, guiding your rhythm now, hips rising to meet yours on every downstroke.

Your breath hitched when he hit that spot—again. Again. Your fingers twisted tighter in the chain around his neck.

“Fuuuck,” he muttered, biting your bottom lip. “Keep clenching like that and this is gonna be over real fast, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you panted against his mouth, forehead pressed to his. “You’ll last.”

He grinned, voice wrecked. “Bossy. Love that.”

You rocked harder, pace picking up now, sweat starting to bead at your temples. Your robe slid entirely off your shoulders, forgotten.

Bucky looked up at you like you hung the moon. Like the way your brow furrowed in pleasure was something sacred. He reached up, thumb brushing along your jaw, voice barely audible over the wet slap of skin on skin.

“Look at you,” he murmured, utterly gone. “My fuckin’ wife.”

You kissed him again, rougher this time, teeth clacking for a second, neither of you caring. You moaned low in your throat, the sound dragging from your chest when he shifted just slightly and—

“Ohhh—fuck,” you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders as you chased it, that tight pull in your stomach threatening to snap. “Right there.”

Bucky grunted, hips snapping up to meet yours harder. “Come on, doll. Let go for me. You’ve been so fuckin’ good.”

You curled your fingers into his shoulder blades and dropped your head to his neck, teeth scraping skin as your entire body shuddered.

He felt it—your pulse pounding where your mouth met his throat, the way you clenched down so tight around him he nearly lost it on the spot.

“That’s it,” he growled, biting back a moan. “That’s my girl.”

You rode it out with a broken gasp, voice cracking on a low, “Shit—fuck—Bucky—”

He thrust up hard twice more and then stilled, buried deep, arms crushing you to his chest as he came with a sharp exhale against your ear, voice rough as gravel.

“Fuck, doll, fuck—you drive me fuckin’ insane—”

You both breathed heavy, bodies slick and tangled, still flush together. You stayed straddled over him, his arms still locked tight around your waist.

Eventually, he muttered against your throat, voice raspy, “am I forgiven?”

You huffed softly, fingers lazily tracing patterns on his chest. "Provisionally."

"Provisionally?" he echoed, pulling back slightly to give you a playful, offended look. "Sweetheart, after that?"

"Especially after that," you drawled dryly, leaning forward again to kiss him softly. "You delayed date night."

"I got you your burger," he argued lightly, kissing your jaw. "And fries."

"You delayed," you repeated evenly, shifting slightly, making him groan quietly.

He exhaled slowly, leaning his forehead gently against yours. "Fine. How do I make it up to you?"

"Breakfast in bed."

He chuckled softly, tightening his arms gently around your waist. "Done. Anything else?"

"Coffee. Good coffee."

"You drive a hard bargain," he murmured, lips brushing softly against your temple.

You pulled back, leveling him with a serious look. "And you're still talking."

Bucky laughed quietly, eyes bright with affection. "Harsh."

You hummed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "True."

He gently stroked your back, the silence settling comfortably around you both for a moment before he spoke again, voice soft. "You planning on staying tonight?"

You tilted your head slightly, arching a brow. "I always stay."

He smiled warmly, pressing a kiss lightly to your forehead. "Just checking."

You rolled your eyes faintly, voice low. "Barnes, you're needy."

"Only with you," he teased gently, fingers tracing softly along your spine. "Don’t tell anyone."

"Trust me," you muttered dryly, closing your eyes comfortably, "not an issue."

He chuckled quietly again, shifting slightly until you both lay comfortably tangled together, blankets pulled loosely around you. You sighed softly, feeling your body finally relax fully against his.

"Wake me up early and you're dead," you warned softly.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart," he murmured, lips pressing gently to the crown of your head. "Sleep well."

You hummed softly, already half asleep. "You too."

He tightened his hold slightly, breathing slowly evening out as the two of you drifted comfortably into sleep.

---

You stepped quietly into the training room, finding the team already deep into sparring practice. Alexei and John were loudly wrestling on one side, Ava was rhythmically hammering into a punching bag, and Yelena stood by Bob, calmly instructing him through basic defensive stances.

You slipped past them, silently observing from your usual place against the wall.

“Decided to show after all?” Ava asked dryly, pausing briefly to glance at you.

You gave a faint nod, not responding verbally. She shrugged slightly, returning to her bag.

Moments later, Bucky stepped in, quietly catching your eye across the room. He offered you a small, playful smirk. You raised an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment.

John immediately spotted him, stepping away from Alexei with a wide grin. "Hey Barnes, you gonna spar today or you too busy humming?"

Bucky sighed heavily, stepping onto the mats casually. "You really don't let anything go, do you?"

Alexei chuckled, slapping Bucky’s shoulder enthusiastically. "Of course not! Team bonding means constant harassment. Builds character."

"Thanks, Alexei," Bucky muttered sarcastically. He looked around the room, glancing pointedly at John. "Fine. Let's go."

You settled more comfortably against the wall, watching calmly as Bucky circled John easily. He moved fluidly, clearly holding back slightly, amused as John struggled to land any hits.

Across the room, Yelena stepped quietly to your side, voice low. "Barnes is unusually smug today."

You tilted your head slightly, eyes not leaving the match. "He looks the same to me."

Yelena smirked, eyes narrowing slightly. "He’s glancing over here. A lot."

You shrugged lightly. "Maybe he's worried you’ll interrogate him again."

She huffed quietly, eyes fixed suspiciously on your neutral expression. "Or maybe he's trying to impress someone."

You glanced at her calmly, voice flat. "You think Barnes needs to impress anyone?"

She paused, considering, then sighed irritably. "You’re annoyingly good at not answering."

"Thanks," you replied dryly, returning your attention to the mats as John landed heavily on his back, groaning.

Bucky offered him a hand up, smirking faintly. "You good?"

John rolled his eyes, wincing as he stood. "Peachy."

Alexei laughed loudly, clapping dramatically. "Barnes is champion again! Who wants next?"

Bucky glanced briefly your way, raising an eyebrow in silent challenge. You calmly ignored him, sipping water from a nearby bottle.

"Y/N!" Alexei suddenly called cheerfully. "Come, come! You fight Barnes, yes?"

You sighed softly, setting your bottle aside. "Fine."

Bucky smiled slightly, rolling his shoulders. "Try not to hurt me too bad, doll."

Yelena raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You two seem friendly all of a sudden."

Bucky shrugged easily, eyes fixed calmly on you. "She tolerates me."

You stepped onto the mats smoothly, circling slowly. "Barely."

"Careful," he teased gently, lunging forward suddenly. You sidestepped effortlessly, eyes coolly amused as you avoided him again.

"You’re slow today," you murmured dryly, watching his careful movements.

He chuckled softly, voice low. "Maybe I’m distracted."

You scoffed quietly, easily dodging his grasp again. "Focus."

He feigned a pout, attempting to catch your wrist. "Maybe you’re my focus."

Across the room, John glanced skeptically at Yelena. "Are they flirting again?"

Yelena sighed deeply. "Probably. Barnes never learns."

You neatly twisted, ducking beneath Bucky’s arm, and landed a precise hit to his ribs. He laughed softly, barely flinching as he circled you again. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"Maybe," you replied evenly, stepping closer, eyes narrowed playfully. "But you clearly like it."

"Very," he admitted shamelessly, voice low enough only you could hear. "But maybe take it easy—I bruise easily."

"Liar," you muttered softly, moving swiftly again, barely missing him as he slipped neatly out of reach.

He grinned faintly, teasing openly now. "Maybe I just like when you play rough."

"Gross," John muttered dryly from the sidelines.

Alexei nodded gravely. "Agreed."

You finally caught Bucky’s wrist smoothly, twisting lightly until he laughed, yielding dramatically. "Fine, fine, you win."

You released him, stepping calmly back, expression neutral. "Again."

He smiled faintly, shaking his head affectionately. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

Yelena rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. "You two are exhausting."

Bob tilted his head uncertainly. "Why?"

She shook her head slowly. "Trust me, Bob. Don't worry about it."

You ignored them all, eyes fixed calmly on Bucky as you circled again, the quiet amusement between you both carefully hidden beneath calm, unreadable expressions.

---

A week later, you were quietly pouring yourself coffee when Bob spoke up from the table, his voice uncertain.

"Hey, um... has anyone ever noticed Y/N's room is always spotless?"

John glanced up skeptically. "Why are you even looking at Y/N's room?"

Bob flushed slightly. "I'm not—I just noticed the door's always closed, and... the lights are never on."

Alexei immediately perked up, delighted. "Aha! Suspicious! Perhaps she is vampire. No sleep, no mess."

Yelena rolled her eyes, but her curiosity was clearly piqued. "Bob has a point, though. Have any of you ever actually seen her go into her room?"

The team fell silent, all of them exchanging curious glances. Ava finally shrugged. "Maybe she just likes things clean."

Bob shook his head. "No, like—really clean. Hotel-room clean."

Alexei slammed his hand on the table dramatically, making Bob jump. "Exactly! Vampire. Or spy. Or spy vampire."

Bucky, leaning casually against the counter, swallowed his coffee a little too quickly, coughing quietly.

"You alright, Barnes?" John asked suspiciously.

Bucky nodded, voice rough. "Fine."

Yelena stood suddenly, chair scraping softly against the floor. "I'm checking it out."

"You can't just invade someone's room, Lena," Ava said dryly.

"Watch me," Yelena said easily, already heading down the hall.

Bucky's eyes widened slightly. He glanced quickly toward you, but you merely sipped your coffee calmly, expression utterly neutral.

John watched Yelena go, snorting softly. "She's definitely gonna get herself killed."

Alexei chuckled deeply, clearly entertained. "If vampire Y/N doesn't get her first."

---

Five minutes later, Yelena returned looking oddly disappointed. She dropped back into her chair with a huff, crossing her arms irritably.

"Well?" Alexei demanded eagerly. "Did you find coffin?"

"No coffin," she muttered bitterly. "Just a very boring, very unused bed."

Bob blinked slowly. "Unused?"

"Perfectly made," Yelena confirmed, glaring pointedly at Bucky. "Not a wrinkle. It's like she never sleeps there."

Bucky shrugged lightly, avoiding her stare. "Maybe she just makes the bed."

"Or," John drawled thoughtfully, "she sleeps hanging upside down from the ceiling. Alexei's vampire theory holds up."

Bob furrowed his brow deeply. "Can people actually do that?"

"Bob," Ava sighed gently, "please don’t hurt yourself."

You calmly finished your coffee, setting your mug quietly in the sink. "This is a fascinating discussion."

Yelena turned her sharp gaze directly onto you. "Care to explain your oddly pristine bedroom?"

You raised a single brow calmly, leaning back against the counter. "Not really."

Alexei laughed heartily, slapping the table enthusiastically. "I told you! Vampire!"

Bucky coughed again, barely hiding his smile behind his coffee cup. "Right. Vampire."

Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously at you, arms folded. "You realize I’ll figure it out eventually."

"Good luck," you murmured dryly, moving toward the hallway. "Have fun with your theories."

As you disappeared down the hall, Alexei beamed cheerfully, gesturing toward Bucky. "Barnes! You watch your back tonight. Our scary friend might come for your neck!"

Bucky snorted quietly, setting his mug down. "Pretty sure I can handle her."

"Good luck," Ava muttered, eyes amused. "If anyone's a vampire, it's her."

Bucky smiled faintly, following you down the hall calmly, ignoring the curious, skeptical gazes burning into his back.

---

It was past midnight when a sharp knock jolted Bucky awake. He sat up abruptly, eyes immediately darting to you beside him. You were still fast asleep, breathing steady, face relaxed into the pillow.

Another sharp knock came, followed by Yelena’s irritated voice. "Y/N. You awake?"

Bucky muttered a curse under his breath, gently sliding from beneath the covers, careful not to wake you. He pulled on a shirt quickly, quietly stepping into the hallway and closing the bedroom door behind him before Yelena knocked again.

"What the hell, Lena?" he whispered harshly.

Yelena raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Barnes. What are you doing here?"

He gestured vaguely down the hall, trying to look casual. "I was—getting water. What's your excuse?"

She narrowed her eyes skeptically. "I needed Y/N."

"At midnight?" he hissed.

She shrugged unapologetically. "Couldn't sleep. Thought she might be up. Her lights are always off anyway."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing softly. "She’s not in there."

Yelena folded her arms, suspicion spiking immediately. "And how would you know?"

He paused, scrambling for a believable lie. "I saw her leave earlier. Said something about going for a run."

"A run," Yelena echoed flatly. "At midnight."

"Yeah," Bucky muttered, attempting to sound confident. "She does that sometimes."

Yelena stared at him, completely unconvinced. "Really."

"Really," Bucky said firmly, meeting her gaze evenly.

She eyed him carefully, suspicion heavy in her stare. "You’re acting weird, Barnes."

He forced a casual shrug. "You're knocking on people’s doors at midnight. Who's weird?"

Yelena narrowed her eyes further, voice dry. "I’m watching you."

"Great," he muttered sarcastically, stepping past her toward the kitchen. "Have fun with that."

She remained standing by your unused door, eyes tracking him as he moved down the hallway. Eventually, she shook her head, irritation clear, and turned back toward her own room. "Ridiculous," she mumbled softly. "Everyone in this place is losing their minds."

Once the hallway was finally quiet again, Bucky returned quickly to his room, slipping silently inside. He exhaled slowly, relieved, as he quietly shut the door behind him. He turned back toward the bed—and found you wide awake, watching him with a faint, amused expression.

"Enjoy your midnight chat?" you asked dryly.

He sighed heavily, climbing back into bed beside you. "Your friend is getting suspicious."

You rolled your eyes slightly, shifting closer to him again. "She’s your friend."

"Not tonight," he muttered, tugging you gently into his arms. "Tonight she’s a nuisance."

You hummed softly, settling comfortably against his chest. "You handled it?"

"For now," he admitted reluctantly. "Barely."

You smirked faintly, tilting your head up slightly to kiss his jaw. "Good."

Bucky tightened his hold around your waist, dropping a soft kiss onto your forehead. "Next time she knocks, you're answering."

"No," you murmured firmly, eyes already drifting closed again. "You're better at lying."

He chuckled softly, voice warm. "Fair enough."

You settled into silence again, listening to his heartbeat slowly ease back into a calm rhythm. After a moment, you murmured softly, "You're still awake."

He sighed, voice dry with mild irritation. "Yeah. Someone knocking at midnight does that."

You smiled faintly, turning your head gently into his shoulder. "You'll live."

"Maybe," he teased quietly, fingers trailing softly along your spine. "If your friend doesn't kill me first."

"Sleep, Barnes," you murmured flatly.

He chuckled softly, finally relaxing fully into the mattress, eyes slowly closing. "Yes, ma'am."

---

Two days later, you were leaning against the kitchen counter, quietly observing as Ava scrolled through her phone, Yelena perched eagerly next to her.

“No,” Ava muttered. “Not her. Too cheerful.”

John peered over her shoulder skeptically. “Cheerful’s good. Maybe it’ll rub off on him.”

“What are you idiots doing?” Bucky asked warily, pouring himself coffee and shooting a confused glance in their direction.

Ava looked up casually, voice deadpan. “Finding you a date.”

Bucky nearly choked on his coffee. “A what?”

Alexei nodded enthusiastically, grinning. “Yes! Barnes, you mope too much. Need romantic distraction.”

Bucky raised a skeptical brow. “I’m fine.”

“You’re absolutely not fine,” Yelena countered, voice dry. “You need help.”

You remained perfectly silent, casually sipping your own coffee, your expression blank as Bucky shot you a subtle, desperate glance.

“Ah!” Ava suddenly exclaimed triumphantly. “Got it. My friend’s a barista. Cute, funny, tolerates annoying customers. She’s perfect.”

“Perfect!” Alexei echoed loudly, slapping the table with excitement.

Bucky looked increasingly uncomfortable. “Really not necessary.”

Ava ignored him, already texting rapidly. “Too late. It’s done.”

“Fantastic,” Bucky muttered flatly, stealing another quick, pleading glance toward you. You met his gaze evenly, taking another calm sip of coffee. “You could at least pretend to help,” he murmured irritably, just loud enough for you to hear.

You raised a single eyebrow, voice flat. “Looks like you’ve got it covered.”

Ava looked up again, smiling smugly. “Tomorrow night, seven sharp.”

Bucky sighed heavily, clearly defeated. “Great.”

---

Later that evening, Bucky leaned against the bedroom doorway, watching you quietly as you calmly flipped through a book. His arms were crossed over his chest, an amused, questioning expression on his face.

“You jealous, sweetheart?” he finally teased softly.

You didn’t look up from your page, voice utterly flat. “Of watching you struggle to make small talk? No.”

He laughed softly, pushing away from the doorway to step toward you, gently tugging the book from your hands. “So you don’t care if I go?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, voice deceptively casual. “You’re allowed to have friends.”

He smirked faintly, leaning closer until his lips brushed your jaw. “It’s a date, doll. Not a friend.”

You turned slightly, raising a challenging eyebrow. “You’re awfully smug for someone sleeping alone tonight.”

He chuckled softly, gently gripping your chin, tilting your face to his. “You’re awfully possessive for someone who ‘doesn’t care.’”

You sighed deeply, voice low and even. “Barnes.”

“Yes, sweetheart?” he murmured teasingly, lips brushing yours softly.

“Go on your stupid date,” you muttered flatly, pulling back slightly. “Smile at her once and I’ll murder you.”

He laughed warmly, clearly delighted. “Understood.”

You took your book back from his hand calmly, settling against the pillows again. “Glad we’re clear.”

Bucky shook his head fondly, climbing onto the bed beside you, settling comfortably close. “You know, if you don’t want me to go, you could just say so.”

You turned the page calmly, eyes on the text again. “Go.”

“Right,” he teased softly, lips brushing your shoulder. “But no smiling.”

“No smiling,” you confirmed flatly, finally glancing toward him, a faint, hidden smile tugging at your lips. “At least not nicely.”

He chuckled again, relaxing fully beside you. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re needy,” you murmured calmly, gently resting your head against his shoulder.

“Only with you,” he reminded you softly, pressing a tender kiss against your temple.

“Good,” you muttered dryly. “Keep it that way.”

---

You walked into the bedroom as Bucky left the bathroom, freshly showered getting ready for his date. “I changed my mind,” you said firmly, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

Bucky turned to face you, a slow, cocky smirk spreading across his lips. “Oh?”

“Don’t get smug, Barnes.”

He held his hands up innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it,” you shot back, eyes narrowed slightly.

He stepped closer, clearly enjoying this. “So you don’t want me to go now?”

“No,” you admitted bluntly, jaw tight.

“Is this you being jealous again?” he teased lightly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you.

“No,” you repeated flatly. “This is me deciding I don’t feel like hiding your body.”

He laughed quietly, eyes bright. “Sweetheart, it’s just dinner.”

“With another woman.”

“A dinner you approved,” he reminded you playfully.

“I changed my mind,” you said again, voice colder this time. “Cancel it.”

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully. “What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll stab you,” you said, deadpan. “And that’ll solve the problem anyway.”

He laughed softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your temple. “God, you’re hot when you’re threatening my life.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing gently against his chest. “Shut up, Barnes. Cancel the date.”

He chuckled again, pulling his phone from his pocket without hesitation, typing quickly. “Fine, fine. It’s canceled.”

“Good.”

“Happy now?” he teased softly.

“Ecstatic,” you muttered sarcastically, turning away and heading toward the bathroom. You paused at the doorway, glancing back briefly. “And wipe that smug look off your face, Barnes.”

Bucky grinned broadly, eyes gleaming. “Yes, ma’am.”

---

Ten minutes later, Bucky wandered casually into the common room, dropping onto the couch beside John. Yelena glanced up from her phone immediately, brows raised. “Shouldn’t you be gone already?” she asked suspiciously.

Bucky shrugged casually, grabbing the remote. “Canceled.”

John snorted. “Got stood up already?”

“Something like that,” Bucky replied mildly.

Alexei shook his head dramatically. “Barnes, terrible luck with romance. Maybe you should become monk.”

“Thanks for the suggestion,” Bucky muttered dryly. “I’ll think about it.”

Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. “She canceled or you?”

“It was mutual,” Bucky lied smoothly, flipping through the channels casually.

Across the room, Bob glanced uncertainly toward your closed bedroom door. “Where’s Y/N?”

Bucky didn’t look up. “No idea.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Bucky, clearly unconvinced. “Very convenient timing.”

He met her gaze evenly, unbothered. “Just lucky, I guess.”

Alexei laughed heartily. “Yes, very lucky! Lucky you get rejected!”

“Right,” Bucky sighed flatly. “Thanks.”

John elbowed him lightly. “Want me to text Ava’s friend for you? Try again?”

“Absolutely not,” Bucky replied firmly. “I’m good.”

Yelena frowned thoughtfully, still skeptical. “I’m watching you, Barnes.”

Bucky smiled faintly, unfazed. “You’ve mentioned.”

“You’re suspicious,” she muttered quietly, eyes narrowed. “You’re both suspicious.”

“You’re paranoid,” Bucky countered dryly, turning back to the TV.

Ava sighed heavily, glancing up briefly. “Both can be true.”

Alexei nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely both!”

Bucky rolled his eyes, ignoring their pointed stares. “Whatever you say.”

Across the room, Bob glanced around again uncertainly. “But really, has anyone seen Y/N?”

“She’s probably plotting someone’s murder,” John replied calmly.

Alexei chuckled heartily, nodding. “Likely.”

Bucky fought a faint smile, eyes staying carefully fixed on the screen. “Sounds about right.”

---

The common area was unusually quiet as the team lounged about lazily. Alexei was mindlessly flipping channels, Ava texting on her phone, and Yelena and John bickering quietly over breakfast.

Bob glanced up first, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Hey, uh... is Bucky wearing green?"

Yelena's head whipped around immediately, eyes widening dramatically as Bucky entered the kitchen, completely unbothered, in a dark green Henley and grey sweats.

"Whoa," John muttered, mid-bite, clearly shocked. "Did someone die?"

Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Barnes, did you hit your head?"

Bucky sighed deeply, pouring coffee calmly. "What now?"

"Your clothes," Alexei said gravely, as though discussing a great tragedy. "They have color."

Bucky looked down casually, shrugging. "It's just green."

"Exactly," Yelena agreed, nodding sharply. "That's the point. You don't wear green."

"I can wear green," Bucky replied dryly. "There's no rule against green."

John shook his head, feigning seriousness. "Yeah, but you're usually like... Batman."

"Batman?" Bucky echoed flatly, brows rising.

"All black, all brooding," John clarified. "It's your vibe."

Alexei clapped loudly, enthusiastically agreeing. "Yes! Like angry shadow! Very broody!"

Bucky rolled his eyes, clearly amused, but said nothing.

"Maybe he's finally cracking," Ava teased lightly, still focused on her phone.

"Maybe," Yelena muttered suspiciously, eyes narrowed as she watched him carefully. "Or someone's influencing him."

"Conspiracy theory, Lena?" Bucky asked mildly, sipping his coffee.

"Yes," she said immediately, completely serious. "I suspect foul play."

Bob tilted his head thoughtfully. "But he looks good."

Bucky pointed at him appreciatively. "Thank you, Bob."

Bob smiled shyly, clearly pleased with himself. "You're welcome."

The conversation continued, dissolving into pointless bickering. You chose that exact moment to enter quietly, moving casually toward the coffee machine. As you passed behind Bucky, you swiftly and casually slapped his ass, hiding your smirk as he jolted slightly.

His eyes immediately shot to yours, wide and startled.

"Nice color, Barnes," you murmured evenly, calmly grabbing a coffee mug. You moved away without another glance, expression utterly neutral, even as his cheeks reddened faintly. Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly, quickly turning back to his coffee.

"Barnes?" Yelena asked sharply, catching the awkward shift. "You good?"

"Fine," he muttered quickly, eyes fixed pointedly on his mug.

John narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Something's up."

"Nothing's up," Bucky replied a little too quickly, clearing his throat again.

Alexei chuckled deeply, nodding knowingly. "Very suspicious."

Ava sighed deeply. "Oh, please don't start another conspiracy theory."

You smirked faintly behind your mug, eyes briefly meeting Bucky's again from across the room. He shot you a small, playful glare, barely suppressing his smile.

Yelena leaned forward, watching him carefully. "Barnes, you're acting weird again."

Bucky huffed quietly, sipping his coffee and trying to look unbothered. "It's literally just a shirt, Lena."

You moved quietly toward the exit, tossing a casual comment over your shoulder. "I think it's his color." The entire room fell silent as you disappeared down the hall, all eyes immediately flicking back to Bucky.

John raised an eyebrow slowly. "Did she just give you a compliment?"

Bucky shrugged lightly, fighting a smirk as he avoided everyone's suspicious gaze. "Guess so."

"She definitely did," Ava confirmed flatly, clearly amused.

Alexei chuckled knowingly, slapping the table enthusiastically. "Ah-ha! Progress!"

Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously, leaning back in her chair thoughtfully. "I still don't trust it."

"You trust nothing," John pointed out dryly.

"True," she conceded evenly. "But especially not Barnes and Y/N."

Bucky shook his head, sighing dramatically as he headed for the elevator. "You're all ridiculous."

Bob looked around uncertainly. "But he does look good in green."

"Yes, Bob," Yelena sighed heavily. "That's the problem."

---

You walked quietly into the training room, finding the team spread out, already deep into their routines. John was spotting Bob at the bench press, Ava stretched by the punching bags, and Alexei lounged against the wall, offering unhelpful commentary. You silently moved toward the mats, your necklace catching briefly in the overhead lights.

Yelena immediately paused mid-stretch, staring openly. "You're wearing a necklace."

"So?" you replied evenly, stretching casually.

"So," Yelena echoed slowly, suspiciously. "You don't usually wear accessories."

You raised an eyebrow calmly. "You're paying attention to my jewelry habits now?"

"Someone has to," she muttered flatly. "Something's definitely up."

Across the room, Bucky entered casually, eyes briefly locking onto the necklace, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He hid it quickly, grabbing a water bottle instead.

Alexei pointed enthusiastically toward you. "Barnes! Our scary friend wears mystery necklace."

Bucky feigned mild disinterest. "Good for her."

"You don't care?" Yelena asked skeptically, eyeing him suspiciously. "You’re usually pretty invested.”

"That’s you," he reminded her dryly, calmly taking a sip of water. "I'm fine with it."

"Hmm," she murmured, clearly unconvinced.

You ignored them all, beginning your warm-up calmly, your necklace gleaming softly beneath the lights.

Bob watched curiously, his voice quiet. "Maybe it's important to her."

Alexei chuckled loudly. "Important like secret admirer!"

You exhaled slowly, voice flat. "Maybe it is."

The room fell immediately quiet. Yelena's eyes narrowed sharply, suspicion spiking. "Did you just admit you have a secret admirer?"

You didn't reply, calmly continuing your stretches. Bucky turned his back quickly, clearly trying to hide his faint smirk behind his water bottle.

John shook his head slowly. "There's no way."

Alexei clapped loudly. "There is way! Romance in the tower, very exciting!"

Ava sighed deeply, clearly bored. "Not everything's a conspiracy."

"This definitely is," Yelena muttered darkly, still glaring pointedly at you.

"Leave her alone," Bucky said lightly, stepping calmly onto the mats. "If she wants to keep secrets, let her."

Yelena raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You're suspiciously supportive."

"I'm supportive of privacy," Bucky replied evenly. "Especially when it means fewer interrogations from you."

You stepped forward, tilting your head slightly, eyes coolly amused. "Barnes. Are we talking or training?"

He smirked faintly, eyes glinting with amusement as he dropped into a defensive stance. "Training."

"Good," you murmured flatly, moving fluidly toward him. "Less talking."

"She really scares me," John muttered from the side, watching warily.

Alexei laughed heartily, delighted. "Yes, very terrifying! Especially with jewelry."

You ignored them, focused solely on Bucky as you sparred, both of you carefully hiding your faint smiles each time you moved closer, your necklace gleaming softly between you.

“I swear to God, Barnes. If you grope me, I’ll kill you.”

Bucky chuckled quietly, moving around you smoothly on the mats. “You’re wearing my favorite. Can’t blame a guy for being distracted.”

“You can,” you countered flatly, dodging easily as he reached for your wrist again. “Focus.”

His gaze dropped briefly to your necklace, lips quirking slightly. “And my necklace? You’re spoiling me.”

You sighed softly, carefully shifting your weight to block his next move. “You’re hopeless.”

“Only for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice teasingly warm. His eyes glinted playfully. “How’d you sleep last night?”

“Barnes,” you muttered quietly, tone sharp. “We’re training.”

He smirked faintly, leaning in closer as he passed you again. “You weren’t complaining when you were hogging the sheets.”

Your eyes narrowed, voice dropping lower. “I’ll smother you with those sheets.”

“Promises, promises,” he teased lightly, moving smoothly behind you again. “Maybe later.”

Across the room, Yelena watched suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “Are they arguing again?”

“Probably,” Ava muttered absently, eyes still on her phone.

John shook his head slowly. “It looks kinda… intense.”

Alexei shrugged cheerfully. “They always intense. Like dramatic spy movie.”

Back on the mats, Bucky’s gaze flicked appreciatively again to your bralette, a faint, smug smile appearing. “Seriously, doll, it’s distracting.”

“Good,” you said flatly, quickly twisting your wrist from his grasp. “Means you’ll lose faster.”

He laughed softly, circling you again, eyes playful. “Harsh.”

“True.”

He lunged suddenly, grabbing your waist firmly, pulling you flush against him. You froze briefly, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Barnes,” you growled softly, warning clear. “What did I say?”

He smiled innocently, leaning closer. “I forgot.”

“I’ll remind you later,” you muttered darkly, elbowing him swiftly in the ribs and stepping neatly away.

He winced, laughing quietly, voice low. “Worth it.”

“Gross,” John muttered, shaking his head. “They’re definitely flirting.”

Ava rolled her eyes slightly. “And yet she hasn’t killed him.”

Yelena sighed deeply, irritated. “Yet.”

Bob looked uncertainly toward the mats. “But they fight all the time.”

Alexei chuckled heartily. “Exactly! This called sexual tension, Bob. Very intense.”

You finally stepped back, exhaling slowly, eyes calmly meeting Bucky’s amused gaze. “You’re lucky we have an audience.”

He smiled warmly, eyes softening just for a moment. “I know.”

“Good,” you murmured evenly, stepping smoothly off the mats. “Keep that in mind tonight when you’re begging for mercy.”

Bucky grinned widely, completely unfazed, following casually behind you. “Looking forward to it, sweetheart.”

Yelena glared suspiciously as the two of you passed. “You two have fun?”

You shot her a bland look. “Define fun.”

“Did Barnes survive?”

“For now,” you said flatly, not breaking stride.

Bucky chuckled quietly, nudging you gently. “She’s secretly soft on me.”

“Delusional,” you corrected dryly.

“Right,” Yelena muttered skeptically as you both disappeared down the hall. “Definitely flirting.”

---

“Is that a skirt?” Yelena asked, as you walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

You raised the skirt to reveal the shorts connected underneath. "It's a skort."

Yelena raised her eyebrows, nodding thoughtfully. "Cute."

"Didn't ask," you replied flatly, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

Behind you, John snorted quietly. "Friendly as always."

"Careful," Ava murmured absently. "She might actually kill you this time."

You ignored them, leaning against the counter casually as Bucky stepped quietly into the kitchen, eyes quickly flicking to your skort. He paused briefly, lips curving into a small, smug smile. "Nice outfit," he teased lightly.

You tilted your head calmly, voice utterly neutral. "It was a gift."

Yelena's head whipped toward you suspiciously. "From who?"

You took a sip of water, expression unreadable. "A friend."

"Friend?" John echoed skeptically. "You don't have friends."

"True," Alexei agreed cheerfully. "Scary friend has no friends, only victims."

Bucky chuckled softly, stepping past you and casually leaning in to grab a coffee mug. "Maybe she made an exception."

You glanced sideways at him, voice low. "Don't push it, Barnes."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured softly, barely audible.

Bob furrowed his brow slightly. "Why does Bucky always tease Y/N?"

"Because he has a death wish," Ava replied absently.

"Or," Yelena mused suspiciously, eyes narrowed at you both, "he likes living dangerously."

"Definitely dangerous," Alexei nodded seriously. "Y/N will kill Barnes soon."

"Looking forward to it," you muttered dryly, pushing off from the counter and heading toward the hall. You barely managed two steps before you felt Bucky subtly slide his hand under the skirt, squeezing your ass firmly, hidden perfectly from the team's view.

You shot him a sharp, dangerous glare over your shoulder, voice cold and low. "Barnes."

He grinned smugly, completely unbothered. "Careful, sweetheart."

You huffed irritably, storming away without another word, hearing the team snicker quietly behind you.

"What was that?" Yelena immediately demanded suspiciously.

Bucky shrugged casually, pouring coffee calmly. "No idea."

"She looked pissed," John noted dryly.

"When doesn't she?" Ava muttered flatly.

Alexei laughed cheerfully, shaking his head. "Barnes, one day she'll kill you. Very messy."

Bucky smiled faintly, eyes glinting. "Probably."

Bob tilted his head thoughtfully. "Maybe you should apologize?"

"I'm good," Bucky said lightly, sipping his coffee, smirk still firmly in place.

Yelena sighed dramatically, clearly irritated. "You two are exhausting."

---

Bucky stepped quietly into the bedroom a short while later, closing the door behind him softly. You immediately shot him a sharp look from your spot on the bed, book in hand.

"You're lucky I didn't stab you," you muttered flatly.

He chuckled softly, moving toward you calmly, eyes warm and amused. "Worth the risk."

"Barnes," you warned quietly, gaze narrowed.

He grinned playfully, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "You slapped my ass in front of everyone. Payback was fair."

You scoffed softly, reluctantly relaxing slightly as he settled comfortably beside you. "Barely."

He nudged your shoulder gently, voice teasingly soft. "Admit it. You liked it."

"Keep dreaming," you murmured dryly, turning the page calmly.

Bucky chuckled again, gently pulling your book down to catch your eyes. "Love you too, sweetheart."

"Gross," you muttered quietly, but your voice softened, and your lips twitched faintly.

He smiled warmly, leaning closer to brush his lips against your jawline. "Thanks for wearing the skort."

"You bought it," you reminded him evenly, though your voice lacked its usual edge.

"And it looks perfect," he murmured softly, lips tracing gently along your neck. "Especially on you."

"Bucky," you sighed, eyes falling shut briefly. "Stop."

"You sure?" he teased softly, breath warm against your skin.

You exhaled slowly, head tilting slightly to grant him better access. "No."

He smiled against your skin, fingers sliding gently beneath the hem of the skort again, voice teasing and affectionate. "Didn't think so."

---

The comms crackled softly in your ear as you moved silently through the tree line, keeping low, eyes trained on the compound just up ahead. You and Ava were positioned to sweep the south perimeter while the others flanked the north and secured the intel inside.

"East clear," Yelena’s voice came through. "No movement."

"North entrance is covered," John added. "Alexei’s being loud as usual."

"Strategic loud," Alexei corrected proudly.

“South perimeter’s clear,” Ava said, glancing briefly toward you. “Y/N, you good?”

You gave a silent nod, pressing your back against the stone wall as you signaled for her to hold position. Then the line crackled again—Bucky’s voice came through, strained but still steady. “Contact in the west corridor. I’m good—just grazed.”

There was a pause. Then: “repeat, Barnes is hit,” John confirmed. “Not bad. Just a graze on his side.”

You were already moving. You didn’t say anything—not to Ava, not to the comms. You just moved.

Through the trees, across the clearing, slipping like a shadow through the half-ruined side entrance. You moved fast, but quiet, eyes scanning rapidly for any sign of him.

Behind you, Ava’s voice came faintly through the earpiece. “...Y/N? Where the hell— Y/N, you were supposed to hold south!”

"She’s gone," Yelena muttered over comms. "Of course she’s gone."

Alexei chuckled into the line. "Perhaps vampire instincts. She senses blood."

You ignored them all.

The compound’s west wing was dim and empty, light filtering in through broken windows and high beams. You rounded a corner and spotted him almost immediately—leaning heavily against the wall, one hand pressed to his side, blood staining the fabric of his black combat shirt.

His head snapped up when he saw you. “What are you—?” You crossed the space in seconds, grabbing his wrist and yanking it away to inspect the wound. “It’s fine,” he started.

You pulled a cloth from your pocket, pressing it against the wound firmly, your movements efficient and practiced. “You didn’t call it in yourself.”

He raised an eyebrow, breath shallow. “Because it’s not a big deal.”

"Wrong," you said flatly, pulling out a small field med kit.

He chuckled quietly, grimacing slightly as you cleaned the wound. “You ditched your post for me, sweetheart?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

His eyes softened slightly, voice dropping. “You worried?” You didn’t answer, just wrapped the bandage tight and clean, your jaw tense. He tilted his head slightly, voice lower now, just for you. “You know you’re supposed to act normal in front of the others, not go rogue.”

“You got hit,” you muttered, standing and pulling him up carefully. “Don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

He smirked, even as he winced. “That’s my girl.”

"Shut up, Barnes," you muttered, hooking an arm under his. "You’re limping."

He leaned into you slightly, lips brushing your ear. “You know I like it when you go feral for me.”

“Keep talking and I’ll reopen the wound.”

He grinned, despite the pain. “Totally worth it.”

“Let’s go,” you muttered, guiding him back toward the rendezvous point. “Before someone sees.”

Bucky smirked. “Married life suits you.”

“Don’t push it, Barnes.”

He smiled wider. “Love you too.”

---

Back at the Watchtower, the common area was thick with tension. John paced irritably, gesturing wildly as the rest of the team lounged around the room, silently watching the spectacle unfold. "You can't just leave your position, Y/N," John snapped, frustration clear. "You compromised the whole operation!"

You stood silently, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, your gaze coldly indifferent.

Ava sighed softly. "Walker, it wasn't that serious—"

"It was reckless," John interrupted sharply. "She ran off like some amateur because Barnes got a scratch!"

Alexei chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe scratch was deeper than we think."

Yelena's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Still weird for her to lose control like that."

You stayed quiet, expression unchanging.

"Seriously, Y/N," John pressed irritably. "I know you're protective of Barnes for some weird reason, but you can't put the rest of us in danger."

Bucky shifted slightly, opening his mouth to say something, but you shot him a brief, silent look—he shut it again immediately.

Bob blinked, genuinely confused. "Wait, what happened?"

"Y/N ran off," Ava clarified dryly. "Apparently, Barnes got grazed, and she just abandoned everything."

Bob's brow furrowed deeper. "Is that... bad?"

"Yes, Bob," John said flatly. "It's very bad."

Alexei grinned, nudging Bob cheerfully. "Perhaps vampire protective of favorite victim."

Bob's eyes widened uncertainly. "Barnes is a victim?"

Yelena sighed deeply. "Focus, Bob."

"Look," John snapped, turning back toward you again, clearly determined. "All I'm saying is—"

You finally moved—quickly, fluidly—crossing the space between you and Bucky before anyone could even register what was happening. You grabbed a fistful of Bucky’s shirt, yanking him roughly forward. His eyes widened briefly in surprise—then quickly darkened in amusement as your lips crashed firmly onto his.

The room fell utterly silent.

Bucky didn't hesitate, melting immediately into the kiss, his metal hand gently gripping your waist. He smiled faintly against your lips, clearly pleased.

When you finally pulled back, you released him casually, stepping back to your previous spot against the wall. Your expression was cool and completely neutral as your eyes calmly flicked over the stunned faces of the entire team.

"Shit," Alexei finally breathed, breaking the silence. "Did not see that coming."

John just stared, speechless.

Yelena blinked, then slowly nodded. "Okay. That explains... a lot."

Bob smiled faintly, clearly pleased. "That's nice."

Ava raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely impressed. "Well, that’s one way to shut everyone up."

You said nothing, arms crossing again as you leaned back against the wall, expression perfectly indifferent.

Bucky cleared his throat softly, lips curving into a smug grin as he glanced around the room. "Any other questions?"

John opened his mouth—then closed it again, shaking his head. "Nope."

Yelena sighed dramatically. "Finally. About damn time."

Bob glanced around uncertainly. "So... they're dating?"

Alexei chuckled loudly, clearly entertained. "Apparently, Bob."

You sighed quietly, eyes narrowing slightly. "We're married, actually."

Another stunned silence filled the room. Bucky smiled brightly, clearly amused by everyone's shocked expressions. "Surprise."

John rubbed his face tiredly. "You've got to be kidding me."

Alexei beamed proudly. "Knew it. Romance always wins."

Yelena glared pointedly at Bucky. "Barnes. You realize you could've told us earlier, right?"

Bucky shrugged casually, eyes sparkling. "Where's the fun in that?"

You rolled your eyes faintly, settling comfortably next to him, arms still crossed.

Bob smiled again, more warmly this time. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, Bob," Bucky replied cheerfully, sliding an arm comfortably around your waist. "At least someone here is supportive."

Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. "How long exactly?"

You sighed quietly, voice flat. "Long enough."

John shook his head again, clearly irritated. "You're both impossible."

Bucky laughed softly, pulling you a bit closer. "And you’re welcome."

Alexei clapped enthusiastically. "Tonight, we celebrate! For secret marriage and vampire love story!"

"Please don't," you muttered dryly.

Bucky chuckled warmly, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "Too late, doll." You shot him a warning glance, but your lips twitched faintly into a hidden smile.

The team was quiet again, watching you both thoughtfully. Finally, Yelena spoke again, voice resigned. "Well," she sighed dramatically, glancing at John. "Guess we were wrong."

"Painfully wrong," John muttered irritably.

You raised an eyebrow pointedly. "Satisfied now?"

John sighed heavily, eyes rolling upward. "Fine. You win."

You relaxed slightly against Bucky’s side, voice calm. "Good."

Bucky leaned in slightly, lips brushing your ear gently. "That was hot."

You glared sideways at him, voice low. "Behave."

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured softly, grinning widely.

Across the room, Alexei chuckled again, clearly delighted. "I told you all. Always romance. Very predictable."

Ava shook her head slowly, smiling faintly. "Congratulations, I guess."

Yelena narrowed her eyes at you again, voice dry. "You realize we’ll still tease you mercilessly, right?"

Bucky smiled warmly, completely unbothered. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

You sighed softly, settling more comfortably against him, clearly resigned. "Great."

Bob looked genuinely pleased, smiling warmly at you both. "You guys look good together."

"Thanks, Bob," you muttered dryly, shooting Bucky another pointed look. "At least someone's happy."

"I'm ecstatic," Bucky teased lightly, squeezing your waist affectionately.

You rolled your eyes faintly, but leaned comfortably against his side, silently content.

Yelena sighed dramatically again, leaning back heavily into her chair. "Finally, we can move on with our lives."

Alexei clapped cheerfully again, utterly delighted. "Yes! Celebrate tonight!"

John crossed his arms, staring pointedly at you as he sat down on the chair. “You’re both very annoying.”

You shrugged slightly, unbothered. “And?”

He rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “Just don’t do anything disgusting in the common areas.”

You stared at him, eyes blinking slowly before you pushed yourself off the wall. “Might not want to sit on that chair then.”

John’s eyes widened dramatically as he immediately stood up, practically leaping from the chair. "Oh, come on!"

Yelena snorted, looking both amused and disgusted. "Please tell me that’s a joke."

You shrugged calmly, expression entirely unreadable. "Believe whatever you want."

Bucky’s lips twitched slightly into a smirk. "She warned you."

Alexei chuckled loudly, clearly delighted. "I told you all—secret romance always most exciting."

Bob glanced uncertainly toward John, clearly confused. "Is the chair dangerous now?"

John shuddered slightly. "You really don’t wanna know, Bob."

Ava shook her head slowly, muttering quietly. "I regret everything."

You turned toward the hall, clearly done with the conversation. "I’m going to my room."

Yelena’s voice called after you suspiciously. "Which room is yours exactly, Y/N?"

You paused briefly, glancing over your shoulder calmly. "The one I sleep in."

John crossed his arms irritably. "So, Barnes’ room."

Bucky smiled brightly, clearly amused. "My door is always open."

"Gross," Yelena muttered flatly.

Alexei laughed loudly, utterly entertained. "Barnes, I like your style."

Bucky gave an exaggerated bow, playful smirk firmly in place. "Appreciate it, Alexei."

You sighed quietly, clearly irritated. "Barnes. Let’s go."

He followed immediately, falling easily into step beside you. As you both disappeared down the hallway, Yelena’s voice carried after you. "You’re welcome for finally outing you, by the way!"

Bucky chuckled quietly, glancing toward you affectionately. "That went well."

"Shut up," you muttered dryly.

"You’re cute when you’re annoyed."

You stopped briefly, leveling him with a cool stare. "You realize I could still stab you?"

Bucky smiled fondly, completely unbothered. "You wouldn’t. You like me too much."

You sighed softly, reluctantly relaxing. "Unfortunately."

He grinned widely, gently nudging you forward again. "Come on, doll. Your room awaits."

"Our room," you corrected flatly.

"Right," he said warmly, clearly pleased. "Our room."

Behind you, the distant sound of Alexei loudly celebrating echoed down the hall.

just a little thing to say: i wrote bob with the intention of him actually knowing they were married, and all the questions he was asking was him trying to get the team to also question bucky and reader's relationship.

i also have a part two in the works!

[screampied]

i saw this on my feed and how about sextherapist!sylus and virgin!reader that struggles with making themselves orgasm? you can go from there 🤗

warnings. — ☆ fem! reader, sēx therapist sylus, virgín reader, praise, dirty talk, semi public, first time squírt, fıngering, mdni.

“oh, so you really weren’t kidding—were you, kitten?” sylus hums, feeling you writhe around his lap in anticipation. you’re so up close to him as your back’s facing the opposite way of his chest. in the far distance, you hear a plethora of noises coming outside of his office. meaningless chit chatter from his coworkers, loud stomps echoing down the hall, his annoying fax machine that forevermore continues to spit out those same clicking cries, and so on. you’ve been attending sessions with sylus for quite some time now, and you just needed to know how to orgasm properly. you tried everything and nothing would work. according to you, it was dire and you wanted to know if it was as good as people say. “daydreamin’ again?” he coos huskily, hot breath colliding near the twitching shell of your ear. a veiny hand of his softly trails down your inner thighs, glancing at your slid to the side panties. “ah, look at her. she’s so gorgeous.”

“sylusss,” you hiss out his name, gingerly wrapping your clammy fingers around his broad cuffed wrist. “hurry up.”

the white haired man snickers at your agitation, and once he teasingly ghosts two thick fingers over your throbbing protected entrance—his chest rumbles from wry laughter. “my, you’re so impatient. but fine, fine. spread these pretty legs, let me see what we’re workin’ with.”

right away, you sprawl your legs out even further then before and you hear him whistle.

“what a sight,” he purrs, and your head slumps back against his chest. it was almost half past ten at night and sylus was technically off work. your session ended about an hour ago but you just persisted that you needed one more thing.

an orgasm.

your nostrils smell his musky scent of loud rich leather and sandalwood that’s smothering all over his clothing. he brushes a thumb over the lace fabric of your panties before feeling just how soaked you were. “cute, bet you were soaked like this the entire time we were chattin’, hm?”

“f- fuck,” you swallow, and a plump tip of his finger gradually pulls at the string of your underwear. you remain laid back against his lap, gnawing at the bars of your enclosure.

the two of you were sitting on a fat cushioned sofa that’s dipping inward from the heavy pounds of weight. sylus was slow — painfully slow, he knew what he was doing. he lets out a raspy chortle, hearing your slow needy breaths featuring each exasperated gasp that leaves from your lips. “sylus, please.” you moan through gritted teeth, the wait just becoming unbearable.

sylus shushes you, pressing his soft lips up near the sloping nape of your neck. “there there,” and he talks over your whines before within seconds, a finger slowly inserts its way inside. you gasp, feeling your tummy heave. his finger was long, not only that but it was very very thick. you started to hear your heartbeat dramatically thump through your ears as he continues to speak. “pay attention now, this right here?” and you whimper, feeling his middle finger swirl around inside of your pussy. he taps against a spot that makes you feel almost every nerve shoot your body. “this is the clit, kitten. and this,” and you moan, hearing the sloshing sounds of your own mess fill the room. sylus gradually plugs in another finger - his pointer finger, and it fully extends immediately, reaching a spongy spot. “this is my favorite, your pretty g-spot.”

“s- sylus,” you suck in a frustrated breath, realizing that he had not one but two fingers inside. he’s very gentle regardless . . gentle and undeniably slow. oh, the wait was killing you. with your flapping lashes fluttering back against your hooded eyelids, you couldn’t help but gnaw at your quivering bottom lip. this was so much better than your own fingers. his was far longer and experienced. his plump lips starts to kiss near your neck this time, softly lolling his tongue down your skin, craving more of your sweet taste. “more, f- finger me.”

“yes ma’am,” he jibes, and it takes him a few dreadfully long seconds before he’s finally making haste. the tone of sylus’s voice was so deep that it nearly shakes you to the very core—you feel his exact rough vibrato against you. he hears the irregular changes of your breathing whilst his fingers continue to roam inside of your cunt.

“mhm, there’s about over ten thousand pretty little nerves stored up in here,” and he’s just casually talking over your babbling whines. the tips of his fingers were now already so soaked with your sappy slick. it’s gluing against his digits effortlessly — sweet like honey. your folds were just drooling, and every so often, he pulls his fingers out just to stare at the slippery sloppy mess. “how’s it feel? talk to me, sweet girl.”

as your body resumes to tingle from the circular maneuvers of his two fat digits, you let off a loud moan, peering at your left thigh that’s starting to mercilessly shake. “good—fuck, so good,” you whine, the stimulation making you merely bite down on your tongue. sylus hums in amusement, noticing how your thighs would just fail to stay still—it’s cute, you’re a jittery mess but your hand finds it’s way wrapping around his wrist again. “faster,” you plead, and your eyes nearly roll back once he’s just repeatedly toying with your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again.

your gummy walls accepted sylus’s fingers freely and it was so snug, your mouth can’t help but start to salivate once you realize you’re coming close. he’s quick, plummeting such inches of just two simple digits in and out of you at such a maddened pace. he’s using his entire wrist, his finger work had your toes curling in awe.

“ah, easy now kitten. just relax and bare around ‘em. there’s no rushing a pretty pussy this sloppy,” and he’s speaking right up against your ear again. if you weren’t throbbing then, you definitely were now. sylus even licks against the edge of your ear, giving it a playful nibble. “c’mooon, give me that orgasm, uh huh. make me proud, sweetie.”

“hngh, s-sylus,” you whimper out loudly, your entire body growing tense. sylus’s free hand creeps toward your tummy, softly caressing against your bare skin that’s loosely tucked underneath your blouse. this was so risky. anyone could just walk in and see you - you and him, but you didn’t care—you didn’t care, especially when you were so close to making a mess all his sofa. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“let go for me,” he whispers, and his tone was so soothing. it’s almost as if he wasn’t inches deep inside of your swollen pulsating cunt with two thick fingers. in and out, he’s shoving them in and out of you, twisting them around and curling them all throughout your gripping walls. fuck, your toes were scrunched up, feeling such rippling waves surge through you. you were almost positive that if it wasn’t for the help of his hand holding you steady in place against his lap, you’d fall right from his grasp. sylus brings one final kiss toward the back of your collarbone before humming. “atta girl. just give it to me. c’mon, all on my fingers.”

but abruptly, right as you’re coming undone, you feel yourself spraying your translucent slick all on his pumping fingers. a shrieking scream dies from the back of your throat and he finds it oh so cute.

sylus feels you pulsing around him and he grows quiet—you huff out heavy heaving breaths, realizing that you’re squirting. it only lasts for a few seconds but it felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “oh my g- godddd.” you collapse back against his chest, his fingertips delicately plying with your prodding g-spot for just a few seconds longer before he pulls them out. slowly, sylus retracts his digits out of your puffy cunt, watching how it’s now glistening with your honeyed sap.

“aw,” he breaks the silence, hearing your pussy squeal again with numerous squelches as he’s dragging out his two drenched fingers. you’re still so sensitive, it’s like your entire body was burning up with fiery scorching hot heat. it’s intense, your thighs shamelessly try to squeeze themselves shut whilst you’re just rigorously shuddering on his lap. “would you look at thaaaat,” and his arms wrap around you. “such a good girl. although you’ve made quite the mess.”

in the midst of him sweet talking, praising you and all, you’re panting heavily. your sighing chest’s raising up and down as you’re just laid out on his lap, exhausted. as you’re chasing your own scurried breaths, sylus kisses the top back of your head. “again,” you moan, a strain in your voice. despite how your legs were still shivering—you craved more, you wanted to orgasm like that over and over. “t- teach me how to do again.”

“to squirt?” sylus raises a snowy white brow, turning you around to face him. his crimson eyes bore into yours and there’s that same sly smile stretching across his lips once you desperately nod. “hm, alright. but this time, i just might have to teach you with my tongue,” and you feel yourself throb once he’s slowly making you recline yourself back against his velvet-colored settee. “now lie back kitten, doctor’s orders. .”

[pinkthick]

Humiliating, isn’t it?

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: “You could pay all your debts with this,” he said, his voice soft, almost enticing. His gaze shifted to you, sharp and calculating. “But it’s not free.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “What do you mean?”

A/N: This is probably wayyy out of his character, but I haven’t watched season 2 yet (I don’t have Netflix 😭) and just saw an edit with him on tiktok and suddenly my obsession with him came back from 2021. So there are no spoilers!!!

Warnings: blowjob (m receiving), cum swallowing

If you’re not 18 DNI BECAUSE I WILL HAUNT YOUR DREAMS🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

The metro station was cold, the flickering overhead lights casting dim shadows on the walls. Your steps echoed faintly as you trudged forward, your head bowed to avoid the stares of passersby. You could feel their judgment, their pity, their disgust. You didn’t blame them—you looked like hell. Blood crusted your upper lip, the remnants of a nosebleed from earlier when some thug decided to teach you a lesson about unpaid debts. Your cheek stung, swelling just beginning to bloom.

You winced as you adjusted the strap of your worn-out bag. Your ribs ached, a dull, persistent throb that reminded you how low you’d sunk. Debt was a beast that refused to loosen its grip. It clung to you, suffocated you, and drove you into situations you’d never imagined.

As you shuffled down the platform, you barely registered the man who bumped into you until you staggered back, your body colliding with the wall. “Sorry—I didn’t watch where I was going,” he said, his tone oddly pleasant.

You blinked up at him, taking in his immaculate gray suit and perfectly combed hair. His smile was disarming, polite but sharp, like the edge of a blade.

“It’s quite alright,” you muttered, instinctively brushing yourself off despite already looking like a wreck. The man didn’t move on, though. Instead, he studied you, his gaze lingering on the dried blood and the faint bruise forming beneath your eye.

“Rough day?” he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice.

You gave a humorless laugh. “Something like that.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, offering it to you. You hesitated before taking it, dabbing at your nose. The fabric was smooth, expensive, and it felt wrong to smear your blood on something so pristine.

“I have a game,” the man said suddenly, his voice lowering as if he were sharing a secret. “Would you like to play?”

The fuck?

You frowned. “A game?”

He nodded, his smile widening. “It’s simple. You could win money—enough to change your life.”

Your skepticism must have been obvious because he chuckled, a soft, almost paternal sound. “It’s harmless, I assure you. You look like someone who could use a bit of good fortune.”

You thought of your debts, the people breathing down your neck, the empty fridge in your apartment. Against your better judgment, you found yourself asking, “What’s the game?”

He gestured to a nearby bench, and you followed him, still wary. From his briefcase, he pulled out a folded board and a stack of rectangular tiles, explaining the rules of ddakji. It sounded simple enough: flip the opponent’s tile using your own. He placed a stack of cash on the bench beside him, its presence tantalizing.

You played your first round and lost. The second and third rounds went the same way. You were terrible at this game.

When you finally admitted you had no money to bet, his expression didn’t change. “Usually, I slap people when they lose,” he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “But…” He gestured to your bruised face. “It seems someone’s already beaten me to it.”

The absurdity of the statement caught you off guard, and you let out a startled laugh. “That’s generous of you.”

He smirked. “I do have a heart.”

With no stakes involved, you continued playing. You lost repeatedly, the man’s skill far outstripping your own. He never seemed frustrated, though. If anything, he looked amused by your determination. Eventually, your bruises began to throb, and exhaustion seeped into your bones. You tossed the tile onto the bench, letting out a defeated sigh.

“I give up,” you said, slumping back. “I’m not winning this.”

He tilted his head, considering you. “Pity. You were just starting to improve.”

“Sure,” you muttered, wiping your hands on your jeans. “So, what now?”

He placed the briefcase on the bench between you, opening it to reveal neat stacks of bills. Your breath caught in your throat. It was more money than you’d ever seen in your life, more than enough to pay off your debts and start over.

“You could pay all your debts with this,” he said, his voice soft, almost enticing. His gaze shifted to you, sharp and calculating. “But it’s not free.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “What do you mean?”

He closed the briefcase with a decisive snap, leaning in slightly. “I’ll give this to you if you… do something for me.”

Your stomach churned at the way his eyes lingered on you, his meaning crystal clear. Heat flooded your face, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “What kind of something?” you asked, though you already knew.

His smile didn’t waver. “Let’s not pretend we’re strangers to desperation. You’ve been beaten down by the world, haven’t you? Cast aside, forgotten. This,” he gestured to the briefcase, “could be your ticket out.”

Your fists clenched, your nails digging into your palms. “You think I’m going to sell myself for money?”

He shrugged, unbothered by your indignation. “You’ve already sold your time, your dignity, your safety—haven’t you? What’s the difference?”

The words stung because they weren’t entirely untrue. Still, you shook your head, your pride warring with your desperation. “I’m not doing that.”

He leaned back, crossing his legs with an air of nonchalance. “Your choice, of course. But think about it. How long before your debtors come back? Before the beatings get worse? How long can you keep scraping by?”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You stared at the briefcase, the money practically taunting you. Your mind raced, weighing the humiliation against the potential freedom.

“I… I can’t,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

He studied you for a long moment, his smile fading slightly. Then, to your surprise, he stood, gathering the game pieces and tucking them back into his briefcase. “Well,” he said, straightening his tie, “it was worth a shot.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how easily he let it go. “That’s it?”

He chuckled, the sound low and almost fond. “I’m not a monster. I made an offer; you declined. Simple as that.”

As he turned to leave, something in you stirred—a mix of relief and regret. “Wait,” you called out, your voice trembling.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Yes?”

You hesitated, the weight of your situation crushing down on you. “Why me?” you asked, desperate to understand why this stranger had singled you out.

His smile returned, enigmatic and unsettling. “Because you’re interesting. And because I see potential in you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small card and placing it on the bench. “If you ever change your mind, give me a call.”

Before you could respond, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the card. You stared at it, the black lettering stark against the white background.

For a long time, you sat there, the sound of the metro fading into the background. The man’s words echoed in your mind, intertwining with your fear, your pride, and your unrelenting desperation.

And the card remained in your pocket.

—

You stared at the card for what felt like hours that night. The weight of its potential pressed heavily on your chest. In a world where every door seemed to slam in your face, this was the first one to open—albeit under circumstances you couldn’t fully comprehend.

The next day, after another call from a creditor threatening you with more violence, you finally gave in. Your pride was already battered, and your options had all but evaporated. With shaking hands, you picked up your phone and dialed the number on the card.

A smooth, professional voice answered. “Hello?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “I… I got this card from someone at the metro. I’d like to… take them up on their offer.”

There was a pause, then the faint sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. “Ah, yes. We’ve been expecting your call. An address will be sent to your phone shortly. Be there within the hour.”

The line went dead before you could say anything else. Moments later, a text arrived, and you stared at the address. It wasn’t anywhere familiar to you, but the name of the street was in one of the wealthiest areas of the city. Hesitation gripped you again, but the bruises on your face and the weight of your debts pushed you forward.

The cab dropped you off at the gates of a sprawling villa. The sheer size of it was intimidating—tall wrought iron gates, a long driveway lined with meticulously trimmed hedges, and a house that looked more like a palace than a home. You adjusted your jacket, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you looked.

Before you could press the buzzer, the gates swung open as if you were expected. You walked up the driveway, each step feeling heavier than the last. When you reached the front door, it opened before you could knock.

A tall man stood there, dressed in a sleek black suit. His expression was blank, professional but cold. “Welcome,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. The foyer was just as luxurious as the exterior—marble floors, chandeliers, and artwork that probably cost more than your entire life’s earnings.

“Next time, a car will pick you up,” the man said, his tone brisk.

“Next time?” you echoed, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Before he could respond, the familiar voice of the salesman cut through the air. “Sorry, he’s—doesn’t matter. Just come on in.” He appeared at the top of a sweeping staircase, his ever-present smile intact. He looked even more polished than before, his posture relaxed.

You hesitated but eventually followed the man into what appeared to be a sitting room. The furniture was sleek and modern, the walls lined with bookshelves and abstract paintings. He gestured for you to sit, but you remained standing, your nerves making it impossible to relax.

“Drink?” he offered, motioning to a decanter of amber liquid on a nearby table.

“No, thank you,” you said quickly, your voice tight.

He tilted his head, his smile softening. “Suit yourself. I see your bruise is healing nicely.”

You instinctively touched your cheek, still tender from the beating. “Can we just… get to the point? What do you want me to do?”

The salesman’s smile widened slightly, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Straight to business. I like that.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze uncomfortably intense. “What I want is very simple. And, let me assure you, the reward will far outweigh the discomfort.”

You shifted uneasily, his words setting off alarm bells in your mind.

His smile took on a sharper edge. “I want you to use that mouth of yours for something other than talking.”

The room seemed to tilt, your stomach dropping like a stone. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend what he’d just said. “You’re kidding,” you said, your voice trembling.

“I never kid about business,” he replied smoothly. “You’ve seen the briefcase. You know what’s at stake.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides. “You want me to—”

“To prove how much you want to change your life,” he interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “To show me that you’re willing to do whatever it takes.”

You took a step back, your legs bumping into the edge of a chair. “This… this is humiliating.”

“Is it?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve already been beaten and left with nothing. What’s one more compromise?”

His words were like needles, each one poking at the fragile walls of your pride. He stood, closing the distance between you. “I’m offering you freedom,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “All you have to do is take it.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as sandpaper. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to leave, to walk out of this villa and never look back. But the image of that briefcase, the promise of a life free from fear and debt, rooted you in place.

“I…” Your voice cracked, the weight of the moment crushing you.

The salesman tilted his head, his smile softening ever so slightly. “Think of it this way,” he said. “This is the last time you’ll ever have to beg, to endure, to scrape by. After this, the world opens up to you.”

He stepped back, giving you space but keeping his piercing gaze locked on you. “But it’s your choice,” he added. “It always has been.”

“I—okay,” you murmured, barely audible.

His smile widened, not in mockery but in something resembling satisfaction. “Atta girl.”

The words hung in the air, and you immediately dropped to your knees, ready to get this over with. But his hand shot out, stopping you mid-motion. His touch was firm but not forceful, his fingers curling gently around your forearm.

“Not so fast,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. “Let’s get you a bit comfortable first.”

You looked up at him, confusion etched across your face. “Comfortable?” you echoed.

He patted his lap, a small gesture that carried so much weight. “Don’t you want to loosen up a bit?”

“I—” The protest was on the tip of your tongue, but you stopped yourself. He tilted his head, his sharp gaze pinning you in place.

“Come on,” he coaxed, his voice soft but insistent.

After a long moment of hesitation, you stood and awkwardly settled onto his lap. The action felt unnatural, foreign. You perched on his thighs stiffly, your hands clenched in your lap, your body tense like a coiled spring.

He didn’t seem bothered by your discomfort. Instead, he rested his hands lightly on your waist, his touch careful and deliberate. His thumbs began to trace small, lazy patterns into the fabric of your shirt, the motion strangely soothing despite the situation.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. The words were meant to reassure, but they only made your pulse race faster.

You nodded, unable to bring yourself to speak. The air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle. You tried to focus on the patterns he was drawing, on the steady rhythm of his breathing, anything to distract yourself from the heat radiating off his body—or the unmistakable hardness pressing against you.

You froze, your entire body going rigid. He noticed, of course, but he didn’t comment. Instead, his hands stayed where they were, his thumbs continuing their soothing motions.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. His breath ghosted over your temple, warm and inviting. “Just breathe.”

Easier said than done. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. He shifted slightly, and your hands instinctively reached out, grasping his shoulders for balance. The movement brought you closer to him, your faces mere inches apart.

His eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you every opportunity to pull away. When you didn’t, his lips brushed against yours, tentative and soft.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were testing the waters. His hands stayed on your waist, their grip light, giving you space to move away if you wanted to.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you sat there, motionless, letting him lead. When he realized you weren’t responding, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Relax,” he murmured, his tone patient.

Tentatively, you leaned forward, your lips meeting his. The kiss was awkward at first, your movements hesitant and unsure. But he didn’t rush you. He let you take the lead, his hands remaining steady on your waist.

As you grew more comfortable, the kiss deepened, your initial hesitation fading away. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his suit jacket, grounding yourself as you tilted your head, pressing closer.

That’s when he took over.

His hands slid up your back, pulling you flush against him as he angled his head, deepening the kiss. The shift was subtle but deliberate, his lips moving against yours with a confidence that left you breathless. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, a gentle request rather than a demand, and you parted your lips without thinking.

The kiss turned hungry, his movements more assertive but never forceful. His hands roamed cautiously, never straying too far, their warmth seeping through your clothes. Your senses were overwhelmed—the taste of him, the scent of his cologne, the steady strength of his hands.

You didn’t know when it happened, but your tension melted away, replaced by a strange sense of surrender. It wasn’t defeat—it was something else, something you couldn’t quite name. Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers brushing against the collar of his shirt as you leaned into him.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly. His forehead rested against yours, his hands still on your waist, anchoring you in place.

“See?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Not so bad.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded. The reality of what just happened began to sink in, but before panic could take hold, he shifted again, his hands steadying you as he leaned back slightly.

“Take your time,” he said, his tone soft. “We’re not in a rush.”

You weren’t sure if it was the weight of his gaze, the steady way he held you, or the way his fingers brushed against you as if he knew exactly where your boundaries were but was waiting for you to decide whether they mattered.

He reached up slowly, his movements deliberate, and his hand brushed against your face before moving to your hair. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he pulled the tie from your hair. Your hair tumbled loose over your shoulders, and he twirled the hair tie around his fingers, his smile never faltering.

“You’ve sucked dick before, right?” he asked, his voice smooth, casual.

Your heart stopped, then resumed at a faster pace. You blinked, your cheeks flushing hot. “I—of course I did!” you replied defensively, the words tumbling out before you could think them through.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Of course you did,” he murmured, his voice dropping as his gaze lingered on your face. “How could someone resist a pretty face like yours?”

The compliment sent an unexpected jolt through you, but you weren’t given time to process it. He gently took your hands in his, his touch light but firm, and began guiding them behind your back. You stiffened instinctively, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“Relax,” he said, his tone calm and soothing, as though he were coaxing you out of a tense state. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You hesitated but allowed him to move your arms behind you, his grip steady and unthreatening. The hair tie you hadn’t noticed still in his hand came into view as he looped it around your wrists. The act was careful, the tie snug enough to hold your hands together but not tight enough to hurt.

“There,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the knot. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hair for you.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. He reached up, threading his fingers through your hair with the same slow, deliberate care he’d shown with your hands. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you hated how your body seemed to respond to him against your will.

“See?” he said, his voice low and steady. “No reason to be nervous.”

Nervous was an understatement. Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the situation. Everything about him was a contradiction—his words soft but commanding, his actions careful yet deliberate. It left you off balance, unsure of where you stood or what would happen next.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Down on your knees.”

You blinked, hesitating for a moment as the weight of his words sank in. Your body froze, torn between instinct and the promise of what you came here for. You must have looked as dumbfounded as you felt because his lips curved into that same infuriatingly knowing smile.

But then you remembered the briefcase—you couldn’t afford to hesitate, not now. Steeling yourself, you swallowed hard and did as he said, sinking onto the plush carpet beneath you.

He watched you with a calm, calculating expression, his fingers still lightly twirling the tie binding your wrists. When your knees touched the floor, he adjusted his posture, leaning forward slightly.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips in a tone that felt both patronizing and oddly reassuring. His hand left you entirely, moving to undo his belt. The sound of the buckle snapping open echoed faintly in the room, and you bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to remain still.

He slid the belt free and dropped it to the side, his gaze never leaving yours. His movements were slow as he unbuttoned his pants and let them pool around his ankles. Then came the boxers, and as he stepped out of them, his confidence radiated like a tangible force.

He looked down at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, his voice dripping with challenge.

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes despite the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’ve had bigger,” you shot back.

That earned a low chuckle from him, the sound rich and amused. He crouched slightly, bringing his face closer to yours as his hand reached out, cupping your jaw firmly but gently. His thumb brushed along your chin as he tilted your face upward. “Open up,” he said, his tone soft but leaving no room for argument.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, your thoughts warring with one another. But then your resolve hardened.

You obeyed, parting your lips just enough to feel vulnerable.

The corners of his mouth quirked upward again, and his hand slid to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair with practiced ease. “I’ll let you take the lead,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, “at least for now.”

His other hand rested lightly on your shoulder as he guided you closer, his movements careful.

With a deep breath, you adjusted, leaning in more and licking the tip. He groaned softly, the sound low and guttural. His other hand trailed from your shoulder to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point in a way that sent a shiver through you. His cock was heavy on your tongue, and your mind blurred as he thrust himself further and further into your mouth—and you appreciated the slowness with which he did it—until he was fully inside. The rhythm was slow at first. Small bobbing of your head that was just enough to pull soft groans of from his lips.

You pulled back slightly and swirled your tongue around the tip, pleasantly surprising him enough to earn yourself a sharp tug at your hair and a guttural moan that sent a shiver down your spine and a sudden awareness of the need between your legs.

“My… it’s like you were made for this…” he tugged gently on your hair again, signaling for you to pause, you pulled back slightly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. His thumb brushed against your cheek, his touch light but grounding.

“Good girl,” he said again, his voice softer now, almost approving. He leaned down slightly, his hand cupping your face as he tilted your chin upward. “Messy, though…” he muttered, wiping a bit of drool escaping your open mouth. His hand moved from your chin to your hair again, smoothing the strands back as he studied your face with that same intense gaze.

“Let’s see how far you can go,” he murmured, his tone calm but laced with challenge.

And he fucking shoved you down on his cock.

You froze for a second, overwhelmed by the situation, but his voice cut through the haze.

“Don’t stop now,” he said, his tone still calm but laced with something sharper, something that made your heart race. “You want the money, don’t you?”

Your jaw tightened involuntarily, and he noticed. His smirk deepened as he adjusted his grip in your hair, guiding you with more force than before. It wasn’t painful, but it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission anymore. He was almost guiding your head at this point, fucking into your warm mouth with soft grunts as the hand with a grip on your hair directed you towards him in perfect timing. Your jaw was starting to ache and you could barely notice it with your thoughts suddenly one-track-minded. You were alternating torturously between sucking and lapping at his dick. He pulled out, and then fucked back in roughly, and oh, he knew this would be good—but not this good.

His hand in your hair tightened, and the calm, collected demeanor he had shown earlier began to crack ever so slightly. His breaths were heavier, his eyes darker, and the faint quirk of his lips had transformed into something far less controlled.

His need was pressing against the edges of his control. Your breath hitched as you tried to keep up, the pace leaving you off balance.

You pulled back instinctively, your body reacting to the overwhelming sensation, but his grip on your hair tightened, keeping you in place. “No,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “Not yet. Breathe through your nose. Come on—work for it.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, equal parts thrilling and intimidating. You tried to steady your breathing, inhaling deeply through your nose as he’d instructed. Your jaw relaxed as best as it could, though every muscle in your body felt tense.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice breaking slightly at the edges, the first real crack in his composure. His free hand braced against the back of the couch he was sitting on, his knuckles whitening as he gripped it tightly.

You glanced up at him through your lashes, trying to focus despite your racing pulse. His eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, the intensity in them made your breath catch. He was watching you so closely, as if every movement, every reaction, was feeding something deep within him.

“God,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, his head tilting back slightly as his grip in your hair eased momentarily. “You have no idea how good you look like this. Believe me—you could’ve gotten out of your debts a long time ago.” The sounds are indescribable, dirty and wet and so fucking hot as he continues to thrust into your mouth.

“Your throat,” he chokes out. He splays one hand over your throat and starts to fuck up into you at a different angle. “I can fucking see myself in you, fuck—“ There was a rawness to his movements now, a lack of the careful control that had defined him earlier. “Just a little more” he murmured, his voice roughened by something you couldn’t quite place. You could hear his breathing quicken, could feel the faint tremor in his grip as he pulled you closer still. His dominance over the situation was undeniable, but there was a vulnerability in the way his body reacted, a need that felt almost desperate.

When you hesitated again, instinctively pulling back just a fraction to catch your breath, his hand tightened slightly in your hair, holding you in place. “No,” he said sharply “stay fucking still.”

You wanted to punch his face. But you did your best to keep up—still thinking about the money—your breath hitching as he guided you, his need evident in the way he moved.

His groans grew louder, more frequent, and his grip in your hair tightened again as he edged closer to the brink. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed and his movements became more erratic. He was losing control, and the realization sent a strange thrill through you.

His orgasm washed over him and his body went still for a moment, his grip in your hair almost bruising as he held you in place. The sound he made was low and guttural, a noise that seemed to reverberate through the room. You froze as he held you there, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Your throat burned, your body tensing as you fought the instinct to pull away as his fucking cum filled your mouth. He didn’t let you, his hand in your hair keeping you firmly in place as he muttered something under his breath—words you couldn’t quite make out over the pounding in your ears.

When he finally released you, it was abrupt, his hand loosening in your hair as he leaned back, his chest heaving. You gasped for air, your breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts as you tried to steady yourself and then started to cough. Your body felt heavy, your limbs trembling as you sat back on your heels, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He met your gaze, his expression softening as he took in your disheveled appearance. “You did well,” he said, his voice low and rough. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness. “Better than I expected.” And then he took the hair tie off your hands.

You didn’t respond, still trying to catch your breath as you processed what had just happened. The room felt stifling, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you as you struggled to compose yourself. You just managed to smear his cum on your face.

His smirk returned, though it was softer now. “I knew you had it in you,” he said, his hand trailing down to cup your chin again. His thumb brushed against your jaw, and his smile widened slightly. “But you’ve got to learn to pace yourself.”

You glared at him faintly, though the effect was ruined by the flush in your cheeks and the way your body still trembled. “Maybe you should pace yourself,” you shot back, your voice hoarse.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fair enough,” he said, his hand falling away from your face as he leaned back, his posture relaxing for the first time since you’d arrived. He looked down at you for a moment longer before reaching for his discarded boxers, slipping them back on with a casual grace.

“Go clean yourself up,” he said, gesturing toward a door off to the side. “The bathroom’s through there.”

You hesitated for a moment, your body still tense, before nodding and pushing yourself to your feet. Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, and you had to grip the edge of a nearby chair to keep your balance. He watched you with an amused expression, his smirk widening as you stumbled toward the bathroom.

When you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. Your reflection in the mirror caught your eye, and you winced at the sight of your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. You looked like a mess, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

As you splashed water on your face, trying to steady your nerves, you were almost on the verge of crying. It’s disgusting—it’s disgusting that you’re wiping his cum off your face and out of your mouth.

When you finally stepped back into the room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression unreadable as he watched you. The briefcase was sitting on the nightstand beside him, and he gestured toward it with a lazy wave of his hand.

“Your reward,” he said simply, his smirk returning. “You’ve earned it.”

You hesitated, your gaze flickering between him and the briefcase. “That’s it?” you asked, your voice still hoarse.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Unless you’re looking for another round,” he said, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to grab the briefcase. The weight of it felt solid in your hands, a tangible reminder of why you’d agreed to this in the first place. “I’ll pass,” you muttered, turning toward the door.

As you reached for the handle, his voice stopped you. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

You glanced back at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you met his gaze. His smirk was still in place, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker. You didn’t respond, pulling the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

The air outside felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the room you’d just left. You took a deep breath, the weight of the briefcase grounding you as you made your way down the hall and out of the villa.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍’

—OFFICER! TOJI F. x F! READER

᧔♡᧓ in which your officer boyfriend catches you at a party that you lied about going to

᧔♡᧓ content: rough smut, age gap (reader is in college), angry sex, jealous sex, possessive toji, handcuffs, breeding, choking, hair pulling, ass/tit/pussy slapping, praise, degradation, daddy kink here and there, begging, orgasm denial, passing out, pussy eating, semi-public sex, sex in police car

᧔♡᧓ requested by @valleydoli 💗

᧔♡᧓ wc: 3.1k

Toji couldn’t fight the annoyance on his face as he pulled up into the small neighborhood. Loud music blaring through the air as colorful lights beamed onto the dimly lit street. There had been a number of complaints. The neighborhood’s residents ringing 9-1-1 one after the other.

To say he didn’t care was an understatement. Out of the whole department Gojo Satoru just had to dispatch him to break up a stupid college party. His police vehicle came to a stop a little down the block, the tall man stepping out with stonic features and a sigh as he made his way closer to the source of vulgar tunes which seemed to shake surrounding houses.

Toji stalked up to the front door, the smell of hard alcohol and weed hitting his nose as he banged on the door. Forceful enough for the sound to ring throughout the noisy inside. A drunk boy no older than 19 swinging the door open with a grin. “Hey man! O-oh shit. Hey officer, what can i do for you?” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard under Toji’s harsh gaze as he tried his hardest to appear sober.

Toji peered over the boy and into the room. Sweaty bodies grinding against each other while others made out, almost every hand nursing a plastic red cup. “Do me a favor and just keep the noise down alright, if not shut this whole damn thing down.. what the fuck.” The officer spat bitterly, jaw clenching with a scowl when his eyes landed on someone. His someone.

You.

He couldn’t believe it. You had been so persistent on spending the night at home. Claiming that you had piles on piles of work to complete. Did you crave attention that badly? One measly night he had to work overtime and this was the shit you pulled? Clad in a lacy dress which had a deep v cut and barely reached your mid thigh. Your body, his girl’s body, on display for everyone to see.

He could see the eyes roaming your figure top through bottom. His blood boiling as he visibly seethed, shoving past the lanky teenage boy to make his way over to you. You were grinning happily, one hand in your hair and the other ghosting over the hand that rested on your hip. Giving the girl behind you the dance of her life.

The music lowered, Toji’s eyes twitching at all the loud gasps that echoed through the room. All eyes on his large frame as he towered over everyone in the room. Muscles bulging through his tight shirt with each hard step that he took. All eyes but yours. You were too into what you were doing, and your boyfriend couldn’t help his rising anger as he got closer and closer. Spotting familiar brunette and green hair sat on a couch with their lips on each other’s.

Of course. You were dragged here.

You giggled loudly, taking a swig from the girl’s cup and letting the bitter tasting liquid scrape at the walls of your throat when you swallowed. Your friends’ eyes widened as they pulled away from each other, desperately trying to get your attention as you swayed your hips. Those hips that only Toji was allowed to see move.

A hand grabbed the flesh of your arm tightly, your head whipping around to snap at the stranger before your brows furrowed. Taking in that broad chest that you’d gotten to know by heart. Your eyes timidly trailed upwards, a small whimper caught in your throat when they met his darkened ones. The man’s head tilting to the side as if daring you to not comply. He would not hesitate to get you out of there over his shoulder if he had to.

“T-toji.. h-hi i-“ you stuttered, looking down at your feet as you shuffled nervously. Eyes darting to the girls who eyed you apologetically.

“Shut up.” His voice was firm, and your thighs clenched as you held back another whimper. You could feel everyone’s eyes boring into you. “Fuck. You know what? Everybody out.” His voice raised at the end. The bustling college teens wasting no time before they scattered, afraid at just the mere sight of the man. “And you.. oh you’re in for it now.”

All the alcohol seemed to leave your system when Toji pulled your arms behind your back. Cuffing your hands as your face heated up in embarrassment. “T-toji w-wait.” The man ignored you as he pulled you out of the room, not caring about how you stumbled over your own two feet to keep up with his large strides.

“She really disobeyed you this time huh?” A familiar voice rung out, a teasing smirk on Gojo’s face as he walked up the few stairs that you’d just descended from. “Good job Y/n.” He winked, a deep chuckle leaving his throat as he thought back to exactly why he had sent Toji out here.

It didn’t take long to reach the vehicle with the speed you were being pulled at. Toji’s hold on your arm never loosening in the slightest. “Get in.” Toji spoke meanly, holding the door open with a gesture for you to get inside.

“But-“

“Get the fuck in Y/n.” He never called you by your name often, only when he was mad. It was always some sweet petname that made you feel all warm and tingly inside. Sliding into the vehicle you kept your head low, the door slamming behind you not too long after.

You squirmed in your seat. Giving into the tension filled silence as you watched his grip on the wheel tighten until his knuckles were pale. Thoughts of you letting any other man touch you coursing in his mind.

Toji undid the first two buttons of his shirt, using his fingers to prod the tight fabric open as he rolled his neck. Taking the pair of handcuffs off his suited pants before rolling the vehicle to a stop.

“Toji ‘m sorry.” You mumbled almost shyly, face getting hot as your arousal dampened your lace panties.

He ignored you. Taking a step out of the car and into the night’s darkness. The vacant road scarce of any sources of light. Your door swung open, eyes widening in a doe-like pout as you looked up at him.

“Don’t. Not after that shit you just pulled.” He warned, expression still hard as you climbed out, the slam of the door making you jump with a yelp. A small whine left your throat as you were flipped around, chest pressed into the vehicle’s side with your hands still bound behind your back.

He roughly pushed your dress up to your waist with a scoff. “Going out dressed like you want to get laid. Am i not enough for you baby?” His fingers found their way to your clad folds. Brushing over your clit with a hum. “Do i not fuck you enough? Is that little pussy so desperate to be filled?” He didn’t give to a chance to answer, his palm landing heavily on your pussy making you jerk with a cry. “Look at that. She’s all wet f’me. Such a greedy fucking cunt yeah?”

You whimpered loudly, Toji’s voice deep and husky in your ear as he kissed up your neck. Allowing you to lean back onto him with your head on his chest. Soft moans falling past your lips as you let yourself grind on his fingers. Another loud cry filling the air when he landed it hard on your ass instead.

“I shouldn’t even be touching you.” He whispered venomously, voice laced with clear disappointment as he pushed his fingers past the thin fabric, pressing the pad of his middle finger onto your clit before rubbing small circles. Watching the way your lips parted in sweet noises as you let your eyes flutter shut. “Should just drop you home and leave you all desperate and needy.”

That made you whine with the shake of your head, pushing your ass back onto his crotch in want. “Or will you just call someone to come fuck you like a little slut?” You cringed at the sound of your panties tearing, Toji’s muscles straining against the confines of his shirt’s fabric as he rolled up his sleeves. Quickly working to free his hard cock before pushing you into the back seat of the car with a smirk. Handling your body until you were face down, with your ass up on display for him.

“Look at yourself.” He forced your head up to gaze at your reflection in the window. “Gonna fucking destroy you baby. Do you want that?”

You nodded, eyes prickling with tears as you clenched in anticipation. You wanted his cock so bad. “Ahh f-fuck.” Another slap to your ass.

“So you do have a mouth.”

Words. He wanted to hear you say it.

“P-please fuck me daddy.”

“You can do better than that princess.”

“Please. Please fuck me. Need you so bad. ‘M aching f’ you. Want you to fill me up.” You begged.

“That’s it. That’s my slutty girl.” You mewled loudly at the intrusion of Toji’s thick cock. The man bottoming out inside you with one quick thrust making your knees buckle underneath you while your back arched. Feeling Toji’s fat tip immediately prodding at the increased tightness near your cervix.

“Shit.” He cursed, breathing getting heavy as he nestled his cock within your warm walls. Forgetting just how much he loved that little cunt of yours.

He started off rough, forcing his cock deep as you rocked harshly against the soft seat. Loud moans dripping off the tip of your tongue as his cocked kissed meanly at your g spot.

Your pussy stretched to accommodate the quick thrusts of his girthy length. Feeling his veins scraping deliciously against your gummy walls as he hammered into you.

You cried out when Toji’s hand found its way around your throat, pulling you up to his chest with your hands flush between your back and his chest. Drool filled babbles spilling messily onto your skin at the force of his hips.

“Haah— T-toji f-fuck,” you keened loudly, your chest riding and falling rapidly as your brain turned to mush. Unable to think of anything but how good he felt inside of you. Lewd squelches mixed with skin slapping burning its way into your brain. A constant reminder of Toji’s abuse to your sensitive cunt as your vision blurred.

“That’s it baby. Take it real nice n’ deep. You’re practically swallowing me in right now.” He breathed. Hand tightening around your throat as the other travelled down to your chest, barely having to tug at the black fabric for your tits to spill into his large hand. Rough fingers twisting at your pert nipples as he palmed the soft flesh.

“Ahh— so good. Feels s’ good daddy.” You cried, Toji’s hand landing two consecutive slaps onto your breasts.

“Gonna stuff this pussy real full. Breed her with my cum till you know your place.” He growled lowly, his frustration seeming to reemerge as he stroked his cock with your tightness. Allowing himself to poke at every corner of your warmth, ruining your slutty pussy to your tears.

“Wanna go out dressed like you’re available. Single. Like you don’t have me taking care of that ache between your legs every single night.” His pace quickened with every word. Snapping his hips up mercilessly till his balls reddened your puffy clit, mouth hung open in whiny mewls as your stomach tightened.

Your tears flowed freely as you were shoved back into the car’s seat. Your mind dizzy at the plowing of his cock into your sweet spot. Toji’s hand moving to grip at the delicate flesh of your hip with other torturing your clit. Rubbing mean, hard circles onto the swollen bud.

“Tojii— ‘m gonna, ahh- ‘m gonna cum.” You whimpered, catching sight of the traces of mascara staining your cheeks alongside your messy hair. The sight being enough to make you call out his name incoherently as your eyes rolled back. Legs shaking violently as you clenched around him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh—“ you chanted, letting out a broken scream as you squirted messily. Completely drenching Toji’s cock in your wetness.

Toji’s movements stilled, his fingers digging into your hair with a sharp tug upwards. “Oh i’m sorry? Did i say you could cum baby?”

“Sorry, nngh- c-couldn’t hold it.” You hiccuped, knowing that you were in trouble.

Toji shook his head, pulling you back so you lay flat across the seat. Shoving one of your legs up beside your body with a grunt. A shiver raking through your body as the cool air breezed through your sopping pussy.

You let out a groan, your attempt to close your legs stopped by Toji’s strong hands shoving them apart. Groping at both sides of your ass before his palms made contact with the skin. A bubbly whine catching in your throat when you tightened around nothing.

Toji sunk to his knees on the ground outside, the forest to his back as he began pressing soft kisses to the sides of your thighs, his tongue licking a long stripe up your slit.

He groaned, grip tightening on your thighs when his tongue darted out once more to lap at your sweetness. Sloppily running between your folds before swirling around your clit. It didn’t take long to get you where he wanted you. The overstimulation going straight to your foggy brain as Toji got lost in your heat. His eyes fluttering shut with a hum as he tried to pull you impossible further onto his tongue. Your constantly flowing slick mixed with his saliva dripping sloppily onto the ground below.

Your fingers clawed at nothing as you began to tremble, crying out loudly as your eyes closed shut. Your tear stained cheek pressed into the seat as you drooled adorably. A smirk adorning Toji’s face when he curled his thick fingers into you.

“Ahh— ‘s too muchh. Gonna cum again.” You mewled desperately, toes curling as another coil tightened in your stomach. Toji stopped sucking at your clit, pulling away from you while his fingers sped up. Paddy tips poking directly into your spot with ease. “Yeah? Gonna cum for me already?”

You answered with a high pitched moan and a small “uh huh”, feeling yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge before it all came crumbling down. Toji removing his fingers before standing up, and only then did you notice how much of his chest was on display. He leaned down to kiss away your tears, brushing away any hair stuck to your forehead. “Only good girls get these privileges baby, i’m a cop, you should know this.” He cooed.

His cock prodded at your hole, sinking into his rightful place deep within your warmth before beginning to fuck into you. He knew your orgasm had barely just died down, and he was going to fuck you to another just to leave you hungry.

Your boyfriend’s head found its place in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your ear before he grinned against your skin. “You won’t be leaving the house for days when i’m done with you.” He promised, tone gruff as he felt his cock twitch in indication of his own high.

“Haah— ‘s so muchh.” You breathed as you melted into him, his touch hot on your skin leaving short quivers in its wake. “Toji— o-oh fuckk.” You were sputtering out strangled noises of pleasure, Toji’s husky groans in your ear adding fuel to the fire as you let out a cry. Your pussy gushing onto him before your orgasm could even hit.

Toji cursed loudly, his grip on your hips allowing him to pull you back onto him as roughly as he was slamming into you. “That’s it baby, pussy’s gripping me so fucking tight.”

“‘M so close— so so close.” You gasped, basking in the small skin to skin contact of your hands on his exposed chest.

“Gotta fucking earn it. Tell me, who do you belong to princess. Who owns this slutty little pussy hmm? Who fucks you this good every night?” He questioned darkly, rolling his hips in a way he knew would drive you crazy.

“Y-you. You do. ‘S all y-yours— fuck. Please can i cum? Need to cum so bad.” You almost sobbed, Toji kissing your cheek sweetly with a breathy moan. “All mine. All fucking mine. Go ahead slutty girl. Cum f’ me.”

You let go noisily, vision clouded as your moans spilled uncontrollably past your lips. The burning sensation in your stomach slowly easing as you allowed yourself to let go. Making a mess on the man’s cock while he worked himself deeper inside you. Burying his cock as far as he could before pumping you full with a contented sigh.

“Let everyone know that you’re taken. Get you pregnant with my kid and keep you locked away. Only for me.” His cum painting your walls in hot spurts as his abs tensed. The throb of his cock slowly dulling as you milked him dry.

You whimpered, feeling the thick substance slowly seep out of you when he pulled out. All the alcohol finally catching up to you as you slipped in and out of consciousness. Letting your eyes blink shut before you went limp in his arms.

Toji groaned with a stretch, smirking down at you and your fucked out form.

So pretty.

He tugged down your dress and tucked himself back into his pants. Removing your hand cuffs before taking you into his arms gently. Laying you down more comfortably with a quick kiss to your forehead. Watching as your chest rose and fell softly, face contorted into a peaceful one despite how stained it was from your tears.

He slipped into the driver’s seat, allowing the car to reach the perfect temperature for you to rest it. Finally pulling off from the side of the road. He laughed shortly when he checked the time, contemplating whether he should even bother going back to work. He’d much rather stay home with you.

He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, rolling his eyes when he saw the name written across the screen. Satoru.

“Hello.”

“So, fucked her good didn’t ya? Made your girl cry huh Fushiguro.” The white haired man laughed into the call. Gojo had been tempted to say it over the radio, but he didn’t know if you’d be awake or not.

“That’s why you sent me out there isn’t it?” Toji scoffed, one hand on the steering wheel turning it into your apartment complex while the other worked the gear. If you were awake you’d be going crazy. Him driving was one of your many weaknesses.

“Yes, and you’re welcome. Tell her i said hi when she gets up. Bye Fushiguro~” The call beeped to an end and Toji shook his head, trying to hide the small smile creeping up onto his face. Fucking Satoru.

Glancing back at you he allowed himself to openly smile, he could never stay mad at you. It was time to show you that.

[hanimanny]

“i only know that i feel tired, antiqued; i feel as though i’ve been awake for a long long time”

HOMESICK

synopsis: when the exhaustion of loving finally takes you.

tags: xavier x non!mc, ANGST!!! hurt/ comfort(?)

word count: 4.4k

likes + comments + reblogs appreciated

authors note: xavier’s version of this. let me know if you want versions of the other Lis. also please give me some ideas!!! divider by: @fairytopea

ACT I: VIGIL

Laughter has never been so suffocating.

You watch, not from a distance, but next to MC.

You think it's worse to be this close and to hear everything you're hearing now. In all the years of trials and tribulations of knowing Xavier, have you ever heard him laugh so brightly, smile so widely, or love so loudly?

The quiet, ever aloof prince of Philos—the man you followed, crossing stars, passing meteors, abandoning the place you once called home—beams brighter than his evil.

You think about all the things that built up to this moment.

To you, he was the stars: bright and all-encompassing. His silence—always silent—ever consuming, as you trailed in the shadow he left behind. Throughout the years of companionship and camaraderie, you followed blindly, as you always do, even when you knew what following him meant: an ill-fated destiny you could never rewrite.

You knew MC once before—the same woman who took the world by storm, a hurricane in his life that devoured him whole, leaving nothing for you behind.

Just like the MC you once knew, this MC is just as captivating.

The universe is playing a sick joke. He is your longest companion, the very last of your kind—the last light of your planet, your world, your culture. You left it all behind because, to you, loving him meant more than the comfort of your people and the safety of your planet. Loving him was worth leaving everything behind.

Ironically enough, he thought the same thing.

And despite it all—the friendship, the companionship, the camaraderie—you’re not even a placeholder for the love he holds dear. Nothing but white noise that followed him around, that clung to him at every turn.

A persistent, pathetic, piteous echo.

You are so close, and yet, so far.

Pulled in by the gravity of his very being. You think—thought—that all this time, just being beside him would be enough to soothe the dull ache of your heart, the perpetual pain that roamed your bones, and the exhaustion that swallowed you whole.

Like a dreamer, you think of the ways he could love you in the same capacity he loves her. That if you show up enough times, reach out and fill the silence he leaves behind; that the days of dedicated devotion, the sacrifices made along the way, would surmise to something worthy of being loved.

Worthy of being seen.

You’re left stranded in his orbit, gravity pulling harder the more you think you’ve got a handle on your thoughts. The pain, the agony, the suffering. Thinking that sticking by his side was all you ever needed, that you can’t be greedy—because having him was enough, and having him be yours was pure insanity.

You hear the laughter erupt once again, likely from a silly joke MC made. You pull yourself out from whatever hole you've dug, pull your lips into a smile the best you can, laughing along. It's hearty and very becoming of your character, you think, since MC wraps a secure arm around yours and squeezes with affection.

You allow her, of course—straining your cheeks until they burn, letting out a long-drawn sigh that fills the room.

Despite what others may think, as you converse along luridly, as if the volume of your voice could hide the heavy heart you bear, you've never been so quiet.

…

ACT II: DREAM

You once thought that the convenience of being neighbours was a good thing.

Next door to Xavier—close to him, but never next to him.

Walking to the Hunters Association together, coming home together, eating together. Just being together.

But you could tell Xavier wasn’t ever there—not really.

Despite being with him for so long, his mind was usually elsewhere. Sometimes in dreamland, but mostly—actually, always—drifting to her.

At some point, in between the solo bickering and one-woman conversations, you, too, found yourself wandering.

Like your mind sanctioned itself in your own self-made isolation.

Quieter. Smaller. Dimmer.

You stop talking as vividly—maintaining just enough energy to keep up appearances. Your voice, so used to fading into the background, remained where it was so oftentimes pushed towards—away from everything. Everyone.

You stop tagging along in the mornings, early days, and late nights, save for the obligatory lunch with your co-workers.

You stop leaving your apartment, taking refuge in a bed you’ve grooved your body into, like a coffin awaiting your arrival. An apartment you’ve grown used to, replicating the only home you knew.

And you’re just so tired. Tired of it all. Exhaustion clings to you like chasing breath. Sleep evades you like the plague.

It was your choice to cling to hope—to leave your home and to follow, naively, in hopes that one day, he would look at you the same way you look at him. To experience his love: the soft edges, the warmth, the gentleness. To think quiet, everlasting devotion would get you anywhere—devotion that controlled you, consumed you. Devotion that you thought would be enough, as silly as it sounds, to at least hold a candle next to the sun.

Devotion that instead puts you in the hands of despair.

You’re stupid to still hope, to yearn for a love that was never yours to have. To attempt to go against fate—against an entire lifetime of love.

So really, it was your burden to bear—and bear it alone.

And the funniest thing of it all? Xavier never once visited you. Checked on you. Sought you out. Even the tenant right below you, Charlie, visited, offering warm welcomes of fresh bread and a simple smile.

As you lie on your couch, enveloping yourself in the embrace of your own naivety, forced by Jenna to take a day off, you listen to the familiar silence.

Which is soon broken by the snubbed sound of light that snuffs the room.

It’s the first time in weeks—29 days, 21 hours, 2 minutes—Xavier has stepped foot in your apartment.

You don’t make a move to look at him or say anything like you normally do.

You both reside in the deafening silence. One by choice, one succumbed.

For the first time, Xavier breaks the silence: “You weren’t at work today.”

You could laugh, scream, cry, or all of the above, but you don’t.

Quietness reaps your soul.

Xavier continues. “MC was worried about you.”

A lifetime's worth of companionship, and he wasn’t even here to seek you out.

You truly are stupid.

Xavier isn’t used to the silence—not this kind. Despite being so quiet all the time, this silence was completely foreign. It was heavy and uninviting, almost suffocating.

There’s a moment of unrelenting anticipation as he waits to see you respond.

When you don’t, he steps forward. One step, then two—then he’s at the foot of the couch, peering down at you like a deity summoned—unconsciously shining with that light of his.

Steel blue eyes bore into you, trying to read you.

But you’re too fractured to be read. At least not clearly.

“Are you okay?”

‘Am I okay?’ You want to laugh at the thought, to make fun of the words asked.

Were you ever okay?

You miss it all—your family, your friends, your people, your home.

To think, once there was a time you chose to abandon it all in the name of love—where you thought complacency was where you belonged: beside a man you knew never loved you, maybe never even liked you.

Now you can only sneer at the fact, as you reminisce about a place far and forgotten, only finding a place deep within your memory.

Xavier prompts a different question. “Have you been sleeping?”

And for the first time in a while, you finally speak.

“I’ve been dreaming a lot.”

First, about you. About us. About what could have been. About what never was.

“What about?” His voice holds something softer than you ever thought possible from him. Something reserved only for her, never for you.

It almost makes you break. To confess everything. To finally open up your heart and pour all your pain out. To free yourself from self-made shackles and unwanted thoughts. To hear the very softness you crave—to be held, caressed, embraced.

But you don’t. Because even with that unreadable look in his eye—the same eyes you’ve longed for all this time—you know what they hold.

Obligation

“Home,” you say simply.

For the first time in a while, Xavier looks at you—really looks at you. He’s known you all this time, the image of you ingrained in his brain like second nature. He knows you—you’re his oldest friend, most trusted companion. He's seen all sides of you, but the person he’s looking at looks nothing like the you he remembers.

He looks at you and can’t even recognise you. Cruelly, for a moment, he even wonders if it’s really you.

“I don’t see any changes.” Xavier takes a quick glance around; everything remains stagnant, as it always has.

You don’t correct him—not this time. You hum a noise between affirmation and acknowledgement and drift off to a place once forgotten.

Silence consumes the soul once again, with Xavier wondering when he had become so complacent with it all: with your constant presence, voice to fill the spaces he’s left behind, unrelenting energy, and unwavering spirit.

“You’re right. Nothing has changed.”

…

ACT III: DRIFT

Xavier hasn’t visited since.

Not that you didn’t expect it.

You still see him at work, at lunch with MC, and on the rarest occasion, you bump into him in the hallway of your apartment complex—like strangers.

You do your best to find a new rhythm in this life, as your absence becomes more common and your presence goes with the echo of your voice. You’re seen less and less.

Maybe you were never seen at all—not truly.

You find that it’s easier to deal with heartache in the same way Xavier deals with everything: in silence.

Silence, although not foreign, not even new to you, seeks you out and sticks to you like a foreboding message.

You’ve spent years so bright, a will so strong it held on tight enough to kill you. Your loudness brought you here, away from Philos, so as the bits of your spirit whittle away along with your soul, silence is left to fill in the gaps of an empty shell.

You learn to live without Xavier in your life—as though he isn’t the last thing you have of your home, of the love you once felt, the comfort, the security. You learn to live without Xavier and learn to nurse a pain that has become something of a lover.

You had to learn to live because the world kept spinning—even when you’re lost in a place, unfamiliarly familiar, and can do nothing but live on.

But are you even living at this point? Even a dead girl walking has rights to a life—to living.

You’re leaving for another mission. In spite of Jenna’s protests, you’d rather fight to exhaustion—to blend the pain in your chest with the ache of muscles.

Your face reflects your volition. Eyes pulled down by the weight of your burden, face pale like a dying star. Despite trying, your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, your laughter isn’t as bright, and your voice isn’t as loud.

You wait for Jenna’s reluctant orders. She’ll be damned if she lets you out on another solo mission—because despite your incredible hunting rates, you too are human.

A voice so familiar pulls your attention, and you look up to see Xavier standing before you—ice blonde hair and steel blue eyes in tow.

How long has he been standing there?

“Jenna assigned me as your partner for the mission.” Your face shows no expression—and not for lack of trying.

You laugh inwardly at the thought.

You're too much like him, in a sense. Loving hard enough to abandon your home, to follow blindly with fate—in spite of your own shortcomings. To silently love, quietly devote, and slowly disappear.

You purse your lips and let out a sigh too heavy for someone like you.

Xavier is almost taken by surprise.

“Let's go.” Xavier can hear it in your tone, and see it in your voice. How truly tired you really are—incomparable to his ever-waking sleepiness.

Your exhaustion runs you dry.

Again, silence befalls the two of you—an unwelcome rhythm that has found a place in the cracks of your relationship.

For the first time, Xavier trails behind you. Watching you. Observing you. And if he didn’t see your face or know your frame, he’d think the person walking in front of him was nothing but a stranger.

This time, Xavier walks in your shadow.

…

ACT IV: SILENCE

You think you’re fading.

The remnants of who you once were have been whittled down to the bone. You’re broken—maybe you always have been. Maybe this was who you were always supposed to be.

You’re so tired, not just emotionally but physically too.

The never-ending stream of wanders is starting to take a toll, even on professionals such as you and Xavier.

Your sword is dull, chipped at the edges, and your wounds scatter across your frame, staining your skin in a dirty shade of red.

Even the almighty knight is struggling to keep up with the demand.

So, as you find refuge in a murky cave, to recuperate the best you can, you find that the full-body ache starts to return.

You lean against a well-placed boulder, breath shallow and your grip loose, as your eyes haze over the fire in front of you.

You feel the warmth reach out for you—gently, creeping through the shell of yourself.

It’s quiet, save for the crackle of the flame.

You feel peaceful for once—the hunt muddling your thoughts so much that you can’t even think straight. Or maybe it’s the exhaustion of not sleeping.

Despite it all, you feel a strange sense of tranquillity. One with the throb in your chest that makes it hard to breathe, but is easier to deal with now that everything aches.

It’s peaceful, you think, as you fade into whatever hole you’ve dug all those years ago. Your mind is muddled, and your soul flickers with the last bits of who you were.

Suddenly, you’re pulled back out—again by the very men who left you there, like a nostalgic toy forgotten all these years.

Your eyes pull away from the fire.

You soak in his gaze. It holds none of the same love you see him give out so freely to MC. It’s hard and stern—years of knighthood sewn into his features. He looks at you like he doesn’t know you at all.

Calloused hand gripping your shoulder—it’s firm enough to shift your attention, your body facing him.

You look at him and try to find the line between succour and obligation. Try to find one thing that says you mattered—even just for a second.

You were foolish to believe that you could remain just his friend, companion, comrade. You were stupid, dumb, idiotic.

You were completely blind to it all—to think that his love could have relieved something burning in you. Something insatiable. Something permanent.

“You’re drifting.” Xavier’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and heavy heart.

You’ve been drifting.

You don’t make an attempt to joke like you used to—not even a weak smile. You sit back and stare at him like you don’t even know him.

“You’ve been doing that more often.” You take a moment to digest what he says—something he’s noticed entirely on his own, not by MC’s worrywart love.

Once upon a time, you would’ve thought it was normal for him to notice these types of things—the dullness of a close second. But now, you’re surprised. Shocked, even. Like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Where are you going?” he prompts, and his voice holds something so intrinsic to the soul. Something you can’t find here. Something like home.

You’re fading, like the light of his evol—dimmer, as you’re pulled into the gravity of your own mind.

You’d like to tell him—if not as a lover, then a friend:

I’m lost. I’m gone. I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m furious. I’m not myself. Not with what’s left of who I am.

I am not home.

You don’t. Despite something inside you telling you you must. That it’s not worth dying on this hill.

You think: How much deeper of a hole can you dig before you vanish? Before you're gone? Forgotten? Never having existed in the first place.

Until you’re not a person, but a memory.

You don’t tell him anything, because that’s not the kind of relationship you have—not anymore.

In the midst of the silence, your voice finally breaks through.

Quiet. Cracked. Almost gone.

“I’m thinking of going home.” There’s finality in your tone. Weak as your voice may be, Xavier hasn’t heard such certainty from you in months.

His eyes knit in confusion, contort in concern.

Maybe you’re just tired. But there’s something to your expression—an unspeakable hollowness that wasn’t there before. Your eyes haze over with something distant.

A body without a soul.

Like he always does, he remains silent. Never reaching out. He’s seen you get through worse, come back stronger. He’s seen everything. He knows you.

Or maybe... he knew you.

All the years of companionship will amount to something. It has to. He’s known you for so long. You stuck by his side even through death. You truly were the one stable thing in his life. Never needing to chase—always there, beside him. With him.

It was always you and him—even as he fights his way through the forgotten memories of MC, you remain.

Though, something claws at him, as his hand gently travels down your arm. To reach. To ask what you meant. To wonder if you meant the apartment beside his, where it reflected the culture of Philos, somehow capturing the stars in every object you bought.

He wants to ask if home is with him.

But he doesn’t.

Silence is there to greet him again—him only, he thinks, because you seem so used to it now.

Unfamiliar territory.

His eyes travel to his hand on yours, afraid to let go for some reason. As if letting go meant never seeing you again.

Your head is slumped motionless against his shoulder. His eyes peer onto your back—and then he sees it.

The blood stains the rock behind you. Your back is adorned with gashes that soak your uniform.

“Y/N,” he calls out, like it’s the only thing he knows. Because it’s the only thing he can do.

He hears no response. Not even a whisper of a shallow breath.

It’s not quiet. Not even small.

It’s silent.

Then he feels it. The way your eyes droop down to the fire. The limpness of your hand on his. The paleness. The coldness.

The death.

His spare hand reaches out.

He shakes you. “Don’t close your eyes.”

But you don’t abide—swaying with the motion of his force.

You could do anything. Do everything. Move mountains. Slay beasts. You were strong. Firm. Confident. He knew you could get through anything.

“Come on, just open your eyes. Can’t you do that?”

“One breath. That’s all I need.”

“Hold me tight, Y/N.”

Xavier cradles your gaunt body as he pulls your head taut to his shoulder. He rocks you like a sleeping child, holding you tight—tighter than he ever has before.

He’s shaking—and not from the cold.

He doesn’t know what comes over him, but suddenly, the silence breaks.

And he hears everything. Sees everything. Feels everything.

And he cries.

Because that’s all he can do.

…

ACT V: LINGER

Xavier likes to think that he notices your absence.

The way people step over the shells of your name, the routes taken to avoid the common spaces you once occupied in the living. The untouched work desk, memorialised by those who remembered her. The vacancy next door — the home she built away from home — now barren, her things sold, thrown away, or forgotten.

MC, who was so loud with her affection, mourned just as passionately. Her heart sewn onto her sleeve as she cried the loss of a friend. Flowers tended on the desk of a fallen soldier, and distance built from the apartment upstairs.

But really, he doesn’t.

The way you’ve faded so naturally out of his life — never moving, never reaching. The walk to and from home is the same. His apartment is the same. His life remains the same. Like you were never there. Like the image of your smile wasn’t something that pushed him through distant times.

Like you never meant anything to him.

Like the years of friendship, companionship, camaraderie — all amounted to a tombstone with your name etched into it.

And he hates himself for it.

For being so complacent. For never seeing you. Never hearing you. Never reaching out. For always thinking you’d remain the same: the loyal, competent pillar in his life. For thinking that his silence meant nothing to you.

Because it did. It meant everything.

He hates how he’s living life like he always did — like you weren’t ever part of him. Regret, guilt, grief — they all settle in his bones, for a person he can’t even remember.

Along with the memory of you, time passed, as it always does. And as time passed, he slowly forgot.

Your goals and aspirations. Your loves, your hates.

Your dreams.

He can barely remember your face. The last time you laughed. Your smile.

He can barely remember you at all.

Only pulled in by the gravity of his grief, where he finds you at the centre of it all.

To think he was so far from you. The irony now is that he can’t ever leave.

Stuck on a cursed image of a woman who meant so much to him.

Who held the moon up so he could shine with the stars.

He sits on his bed, light voided from the room. The pictures from your apartment piled by his bedside, facing the stars, watching — as you always did.

For the first time, he’s not tired at all.

Is this how you felt? How restless you were?

When he showed up that time, too worried about MC and her anxieties. Too quick to solve her issues that he hadn’t noticed how your eye bags sank deep enough to stain your spirit. How you lay, lost, drifting to a place he couldn’t reach.

Dreaming of home.

And just like his home, his culture, his people — you too join the faint memory of Philos.

His phone buzzes, bright. The screen illuminates the room.

Xavier thinks it’s MC again — she doesn’t know the depth of what you and Xavier shared, but she understood the weight of long-term partnership.

At first, he answered every time — to relieve her worries, to silently say he was fine.

But now, everything feels like a farce.

A lie he tells himself as much as he tells the world.

If the absence, the silence, isn’t acknowledged — maybe it’ll keep things still. To stop time from moving.

Because if time doesn’t move, then the memory of you won’t fade.

And you’ve faded enough.

He picks up the phone and waits.

Then he hears it — the soft laughter he longed for. It’s gentle and hearty, so full of life.

Xavier peels the phone from his ear to peer at the screen.

Then he sees it. The light. The brightness of a smile lost to memory, now alone. It’s displayed in front of him — teeth bared, lips stretched wide with a feeling he hasn’t seen in years.

It’s you.

Laughing so freely. Smiling so widely.

You’re alive.

Xavier scrambles upright, leaning forward to see the screen more clearly.

It’s you — in clothes he’s never seen you wear, in a room he’s never seen before, with a face he barely remembers.

But he knows it’s you. 

How could he ever forget? Not truly.

So desperately, he calls out. Announcing himself, finally reaching out.

Your eyes perk in surprise as you lean in.

“Holy shit, did he just say my name? That’s crazy!” you giggle, and Xavier is too overcome with emotion to even question the absurdity of your words.

“No wonder people were glazing this game on Twitter!” you laugh before the call cuts.

Xavier’s too stunned to react. He taps rapidly through his phone to check the caller history.

Unknown.

He scrambles to call again.

Anticipation sweating off of him.

He holds his phone tightly and then— You pick up.

Your face: confused.

“Damn, I didn’t even level his affinity up yet and he’s calling already,” you mutter, peering at the screen.

Xavier looks dishevelled, almost destroyed. His hair is a messy heap, and dark circles shadow his eyes. The usual soft glow of his skin— dulled, lifeless.

He’s worn thin. A dead man walking.

“Hey,” Xavier says softly, almost inaudibly.

He watches your face shift — confusion to elation.

“Oh my god, you can even talk! Let me try again.”

And then you speak — not offhand commentary, but to him.

“Hi,” you greet, brightly enough to light up the room.

Xavier is at a loss, and doesn’t reply. But unlike before, you speak again.

“This is so cool. So like, does this count as my daily interaction?” you ask aloud, maybe to yourself, maybe to him— he can’t tell.

“Right, probably not in his programming to answer questions like that,” you mumble, before turning your full attention back to him.

“I’ll see you soon, alright? I hope this mechanic isn’t a glitch.” You grin softly.

And nothing in Xavier’s entire career could’ve prepared him for this.

But he’s not letting this opportunity go. Not when he has another chance to hear you, to see you — and even if he can’t touch you, he’ll never let go.

He’s not letting you slip.

Not now. Not ever. Not again.

“All right... I’ll see you soon,” Xavier replies simply.

Watching your face glow is enough for him.

The way your lips stretch, teeth bare — a face full of life.

Here, he decides: he’ll wait as long as you need.

As long as you want.

He’ll wait until the phone screen glows once again. He’ll wait to see you again.

Close enough to hear you. To see you. But never touch you.

…

ACT VI: ECHO

“Hi Xavier”

The unfair proximity of a dream

[areislol]

being transported into their world

►— pairings. honkai star rail men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. nothing really, not proof read 🙅🏻‍♀️, caelus is the trailblazer, romantic but you can see it was platonic if you want to! girls in the astral express are mentioned for a bit, i mentioned both dan heng and imbibitor lunae so don't mind that! mentions of self attempt/bodily harm for blade, boothill is ooc probably, spoilers of penacony quest, skipping herta space station (will be mentioned in other chapters though!), sahau (self aware honkai au)

►— synopsis. their beloved creator, the one who created many worlds, including theirs, had yet to return after thousands of years. but lately, they've been experiencing strange things, feeling like a heavenly, divine figure loomed over them. could it possibly be their one and only creator?

►— a/n. i've been thinking about a self-aware au but a honkai star rail version for a couple of weeks now after my reverse isekai'd genshin sagau series. also this may be a bit biased towards dang feng (imbibitor lunae) because uh i like him, maybe you can tell?

►— wordcount. 4.5k

part 2

for days they've felt uncomfortable, well, slightly. it only began to happen a couple of months ago when they felt as if something, no... someone was controlling their every movement and choice.

during their adventures, they felt an unsettling sensation creep upon them like a shadow in the night—a feeling of being watched, of a presence looming over their every move.

the presence was overwhelming, their body would stiffen, and they felt as if something like a heavy, invisible blanket was casted upon them.

at first, the passengers in the astral express dismissed it as mere paranoia, attributing it to the heightened tension of their journey or maybe the warping effects in the train. but as days passed and the sensation persisted, they couldn't shake off the unnerving feeling that they were not alone, that someone or something was observing their every action.

at times, they would catch fleeting whispers carried by the wind, faint voices that echoed in the corners of their minds. yet, despite their efforts, they could never make out the words, the words slipping through their grasp like elusive dreams.

as the feeling grew more pronounced, thoughts began to gnaw at their consciousness. who or what could possibly be speaking to them? why is it that every now and then they would feel a sudden boost and surge of power?

they knew deep down that the only being in the universe could make them feel that was,it could be no other than their creator.

the mere thought that their creator was dropping hints of their arrival was exciting. and only when the astral express crew noticed how each and every one of them felt the same exact things—looking around the moment they heard a voice, their body in sync as they tensed up... it was all too coincidental not to notice.

as they talked with one another and pieced the puzzle pieces together, using the information they found along the way travelling to each region, it all became clear.

it was a pivotal moment in their journey, the truth was revealed. in a flash of realization, they discovered that the presence they felt, the elusive voice they heard, was none other than their creator—the architect of their existence, the mastermind behind their trials and tribulations.

dan heng, himeko, welt, march and caelus had a hunch that it was their beloved creator, it couldn't be anyone else. everything added up, everything made sense. they acted like mad scientists, scurrying to their rooms and digging around every nook and cranny of their room, finding any evidence and papers that mentioned you, the creator.

as they all met up back on the train they carefully placed each and every newspaper and article about you. they had to make sure that it was really you. some of the articles that dan heng bought were from way back, thousands of years ago, he refused to tell anyone where he had gotten them from.

"in the vast expanse of the universe, where time flowed like a meandering river and galaxies danced in an eternal cosmic ballet, there existed a being unlike any other—a being known simply as a creator. born out of the primordial chaos, the creator was a solitary entity who traversed the endless void, seeking purpose in a universe devoid of meaning.

for millennia, the creator roamed the expanse, witnessing the birth and death of stars, the rise and fall of civilizations, and the ebb and flow of cosmic energies. yet, amidst the vastness of space and time, the creator found itself consumed by an overwhelming sense of ennui, a profound boredom that gnawed at their very essence.

then, the creator embarked on a journey of creation—a quest to fill the void with worlds of its own design, to sculpt realities from the raw clay of the cosmos. with a mere thought, the creator breathed life into barren planets, adorned them with oceans and mountains, and populated them with a myriad of creatures both strange and wondrous.

as creator delved deeper into their newfound passion, they discovered a love for the act of creation—a love that transcended time and space, a passion that ignited a fire within its soul. with each world it fashioned, each story it crafted, the creator found solace in the act of shaping reality, in the sheer joy of bringing something new into existence.

for six thousand years, the creator laboured tirelessly, weaving tapestries of worlds and galaxies, each one a testament to its boundless imagination and creative prowess. from the smallest blade of grass to the mightiest empires, the creator poured their heart and soul into every facet of creation, infusing each world with a unique charm and character all its own.

yet, amidst the infinite expanse of its creations, the creator remained a solitary figure—a godlike being adrift in a sea of its own making, forever yearning for companionship in a universe devoid of peers. and so, the creator continued their eternal quest, weaving worlds out of boredom and growing a love and passion for creation that would endure for eternity. and we, this universe, was crafted by none other than the creator, the place we call home. it is said that only after six thousand will the creator return to us, to watch over us once more."

the article itself looked worn, it wasn't signed by anyone, and no one knew who wrote it, or how they got the information. but it seemed plausible. millenniums... it has been well over six thousand years, it was about time the creator descended.

they had to be prepared, they had to tell the rest of their friends and families, the world. as much as they would like to keep the information to themselves they knew that you deserved a much better, bigger and more beautiful welcome.

sampo, gepard and luka were more than stunned and nervous, to say the least. their creator... was finally returning back? upon hearing the news from caelus they were sceptical at first, deep down they really wanted to see you in your glory, to finally meet the creator, but at the same time, it was nerve-wracking.

what should they say? what should they do in preparation and celebration? what gifts and offers should they give to you? nothing would do. they were positive that anything they bought, even if it got them in debt, would suffice. you deserved more than a measly couple of dishes and the most delicate and fitting garnets.

it was embarrassing really, their hearts racing as they tried their best to think of what to bring to your feet. but one thing they all had in common was their loyalty to you. if it was their life you wanted then so be it.

sampo is sampo, he was sure that his creator's glory and attractiveness were over the top, he would be sure to compliment you as many times as his mouth could allow, but he was sure that your beauty would be intimidating. no matter your looks your presence was more than enough.

gepard is nervous. his mind is full of "what ifs" and "what should i.." not even his sister can calm him down. every morning and night when he closes his eyes he's anticipating the day his sister barges into his room, yelling that the creator had finally descended. although he isn't quite sure of what to offer you he knows that whenever you need him, whatever you call him for he will be there in less than a minute, by your side or feet if you prefer.

whatever you ask of him, whatever favour you need from, he will never say no.

luka on the other hand is absolutely pumped to meet you! he had heard stories of you when he was a child, and from the stories told by the adults they described you as a kind being, who soon fell in love with the art, beauty and joy of creating. well, their most favourite was creating worlds.

he was absolutely sure that you would be the most kindest, heavenly person he had ever met, what was there to worry about now? luka knew that if he ever laid eyes on you he would fall in love no doubt, he would do anything for you. maybe you would agree to watch his wrestling matches?

jing yuan, blade, imbibitor lunae, and luocha are the most excited of all, sure, everyone is elated to finally meet you with their very own eyes. but them? oh lord... they all believe to be your worshipper, having heard tales of you from their parents, this alone caused them to be awe and love-struck with you.

they were a firm believer in you, you did no wrong in their eyes. all your actions and words were justified. they followed your principles, they made sure to announce their presence every time they came to your altar and placed down the most expensive jewels, dishes and gifts. (they had a shrine of you at home don't worry)

jing yuan was the one of the firsts to get hints that you were finally returning, the divine foresight fu xuan always looked so weary and cautious, but as time grew she began to be more... happy and elated, yet everytime he questioned her she was tense up and smile like it was nothing. and only when he pried did she say that she saw things, saw a blurred face, and heard a voice. "don't be alarmed... i'm here to tell you that.."

he made sure that everyone who worked under him and every prominent person knew of this, he began to make preparations of your arrival, he cancelled all meetings and plans, only focusing on you and your arrival. everything had to be perfect. he had even forgotten about the wanted criminal blade. jing yuan booked the most fanciest restaurant for a month max, he wasn't sure when you were coming, of course, so a month it was.

jing yuan prepared every entertainment and paid the orchestra, he wanted everything to be perfect, even the most minuscule details.

blade's loyalty was and is only for you and only you. he may be cold and stone-hearted (we all know it's false) but if it's you... whatever you ask for he will do it no doubt. he refuses to take orders from a stranger even if it is his friend, but if it's you? say no more. blade knew you were a kind soul, you needed protection from the other so-called "enemies" (he proclaimed it!).

he swore that you saved his life, years ago when everything was tumbling down, when his feelings got the better of him, he tried doing the unthinkable, as he blacked out he suddenly "saw" something.. a beacon of light, it was magical and airy, he tried his best to grasp onto the light but obviously could not.

it floated further and further away, and he followed it, his eyes glued only on the beacon of light. as it stopped moving, so did he, he continued staring at the light as it shrank into a ball, it didn't speak, it didn't look anywhere, it stayed there. suddenly he woke up, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. what was that?

sweat clung to his forehead when jingliu found him, concerned she rushed over to him, he refused to say a single word. he was left perplexed. what was the ball of light? why did he feel so at ease? why did it only appear after he...

he would make it his mission to meet you before the rest do other than the astral express crew and become your bodyguard, even if you deny his offer he will stick with you no matter what. of course, he would respect your boundaries but he knew that you didn't have the heart to deny anyone, especially your creation.

imbibitor lunae absolutely adores you, even if he was reincarnated the memories still pass on. and the tales being told by the grown-ups were famous around his area and still is. from the earliest days of his existence, tales of the creator had woven themselves into the fabric of his consciousness, painting a portrait of a being of boundless kindness and infinite compassion.

as a child, imbibitor lunae had listened with rapt attention to stories passed down through generations, tales of the creator's benevolence and the miracles they wrought upon the world. and in the quiet moments of the night, he would gaze up at the starry expanse above, whispering prayers to the creator, his heart overflowing with admiration and reverence.

when news of the creator's imminent return after six thousand years reached his ears, his heart soared with unbridled joy. in no time he set about preparing for your arrival, pouring his heart and soul into crafting the perfect gifts to present to his divine benefactor.

drawing inspiration from the tales of old, he fashioned intricate trinkets and tokens of his affection, each one imbued with his unwavering devotion and love. amidst the swirling maelstrom of feelings, one thing remained constant: his unwavering love for the creator.

imbibitor swore that once he felt or sensed a sign that would be arriving he would immediately act, he would be the first to meet and lay his eyes on your divine figure. slap him as many times as you want if you found it rude, he would only thank you.

luocha, despite remaining calm and composed on the outside, internally, he was freaking OUT. luocha found himself grappling with a myriad of conflicting thoughts and emotions. on one hand, he felt a profound sense of excitement at the prospect of meeting the creator, the architect of his existence and the source of all that he held dear.

yet, on the other hand, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of inadequacy, the fear of not being able to live up to your expectations.

his mind raced with a flurry of possibilities. what gifts would you appreciate? what could he offer to express his gratitude and reverence for the being who had breathed life into his world? with each passing moment, the weight of the impending meeting pressed down upon him like a heavy burden, filling him with a sense of anxiety.

despite his inner turmoil, luocha maintained a facade of calm and composure, determined not to let his anxieties show. with a steely resolve, he set about meticulously planning and preparing for your arrival, carefully considering every detail in his quest to find the perfect gift.

he even resorted to asking the children about what gifts he should bring, and yes, they did laugh at him but helped him nonetheless.

from ornate trinkets to rare treasures, luocha spared no effort in his search for the ideal offering, pouring his heart and soul into each carefully chosen item. yet, even as he laboured tirelessly to ensure that everything was perfect, doubts continued to gnaw at the edges of his mind, although one thing was for sure, if you didn't like any of his gifts he wouldn't be upset rather, maybe all you wanted was his whole body and life, and he would not hesitant once to give it up for you.

they all couldn't wait to meet you.

aventurine, sunday, gallagher and boothill are freaking out. horribly. mainly aventurine.. once the news had reached them from the astral express that it was possible (about 98%) that you were the comet arriving in a week... oh boy were they NERVOUS. everything HAD to be perfect. they had everything to thank you for, during their life and death situation they were lucky enough to survive—thanks to you.

it was only natural to return the favour, you created them, their personality, their arms, legs, their body, you sculpted their face, you made them. you made the very world they live in right now, the world they call home... they were sure you were by their side, making them make the right decisions and the right thing. aventurine? oh, the amount of MONEY he will spend buying everything he thinks you'd like, the fanciest, most elegant and most expensive shoes, clothing and accessories. he would rent out an entire week or months of work at a restaurant if you'd like to dine alone or with a couple of people. he knows his luck is a part of him, he can only pray that he'll meet you first with his luck.

sunday... just the sound of your name makes him tear up. he could've sworn that one time you spoke to him, your other-worldly echoing voice speaking to him directly about the loss of his dear sister. and here he stood in his room, looking out the window, and in the far distant a light shimmering as it swiftly dived down. a shooting star. he knows that with everyone getting the news they're all aiming to be the first to meet you, and trust me, he does want to meet you FIRST. the second you land he'll be there right with you and guiding you to safety—penacony.

but first, he must pinpoint where exactly you'll land. and with his power and influence he will most definitely try his best to find you and be sure to hide you from everyone else... he needs you, desperately.

gallagher and boothill have exactly the same thoughts. to present themselves good to you and spend every minute and second with you. but with everyone gossiping and spreading rumours about your arrival it's hard to be unique. everyone wants to be with you, everyone wants your favour. but they could never worship you as much as them. they had dreamed of this moment, it seemed unreal to meet their own creator but nonetheless, they clung to their hope and boy did it not go to waste.

boothill basically pauses any mission he needs to complete, that can wait. you are eternal. he's practically on edge with the fact that at any moment the comet would crash through and there you'd be, dozing peacefully.. like an angel. he won't hesitate to cause some trouble or initiate some violence if it means that they don't get to see you first.

gallagher on the other hand tries to stay hidden and in the shadows. of course, he'd like to meet you face to face but with the feeling of an overwhelming and looming divine presence, it's all too much. and if that's too much then what would he feel when you stand right before him? he's like an overprotective dog, fiercely loyal and clingy. even if you can't spot him he'll be right there, lurking and watching.

dr. ratio and argenti are absolutely and 100% loyal and would do EVERYTHING in their power to meet you, even a glance would do, anything to feed their curiosity and desperate need to know the creator. so when they get wind that you were supposedly descending down... they freeze on the spot, their breath hitches as their eyes widen. could it really be?

dr. ratio was always a curious boy, and he has you to thank for giving him consciousness and the opportunities to venture out and earn knowledge and eventually spreading his knowledge to his students (preaching i guess you can say). he's a bit biased when it comes to talking about you to his friends or students, and speaking your name in a more positive light, not that anyone minds, if anything they agree!

although he isn't much of a gifter or "i'll spend my money on you" he's more of a "anything you want just tell me". if you told him to drop his precious books to come and tend to your needs he would do it in a heartbeat.

to argenti you are the standard and epitome of "beauty". the beauty he has been searching for his entire life. he intends to shower you with compliments and roses freshly picked by hand unless you're allergic or not a fan of flowers, fear not! compliments should do! be ready to be bombarded with such positivity, compliments and gifts from the knight of beauty.

anything you wish for he will try his utmost best to get it done perfectly and quickly. "your hair looks so pretty like this..." say no more, he will always style it and keep it exactly like that! "my feet feel so sore from all the walking" ?!!? why is his dear walking anyway!?!? don't worry, he'll massage it for you! "ugh all this work is making me tired" move aside, let him do the honours!!

It was a long ride home from work, you were currently in an almost empty bus, glancing over the top of your phone you read the time. 11 P.M.

Was it that late already? You knew this office job would be the death of you. You never wanted to work at a place like this, the cubicle life bored you and it was just so... depressing. That was the only way to describe it.

You decide to pass the time by playing your all-time favourite game: Honkai: Star Rail. The soft glow of the screen illuminated your face as you began to grind relics and exp for an upcoming character. It definitely worked in keeping you busy and awake as time passed by slowly.

All was well, everything was fine. You had everything planned in your head. Get home as soon as possible, take a nice warm and rejuvenating shower, get five hours of sleep, go back to work and repeat.

The more you thought about your daily routine the more you realised how depressing it was, but what could you do? That job was the only one that was hiring and had average pay and things like that are rare, especially when you decided to live in the city which was your first mistake.

You were barely getting by in the city, the crime rate increased, there were more breaks in, pickpocketing and murder. But despite all of that you decided to rent an apartment where it was less populated, the rent in the heart of the city was way too high.

Pushing all those thoughts and information aside you let out a defeated sigh, leaning your head on the window as you continued to tap away on your phone.

If only life went just a little bit easier on you.

Everything was fine. The silence was comfortable and the low, soft rumble of the engine kept you awake, until a loud deafening crash jolted the bus, sending people flying and falling onto the ground.

Letting out a scream you grabbed onto whatever you could to keep you steady—the head of the chair in front of you. Although it didn't do a good job of keeping you still you couldn't care less, because as you lifted your head, your eyes caught something massive charging straight at you, and before you could react, a blinding light engulfed you, followed by an eerie silence.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself tightly packed against something dark and rocky. Just great! Something had happened to the bus and knocked you out.

You looked around, it was pure blackness, like a void. Maybe this was what happened after death... Out of all things and especially the time too!

Feeling confused and scared you try to move your body to shift into a more comfortable position but due to the lack of space, you could barely even move an inch.

Suddenly, a crack was heard. And you froze.

Then another crack, and another, the darkness began to crack and splinter and not long after half of the egg-shaped looking ball broke in half as it fell to the side.

Shards of obsidian-like material fractured and scattered around. A large amount of dust, and shiny glitter-like specs flew everywhere, it was extremely dusty.

Unfortunately, you inhaled the smoke, coughing and sputtering, you waved their hand in front of your face, trying to dispel the particles as you squinted against the harsh light that slipped through the smoke.

As the dust settled and the steam dissipated, your surroundings gradually came into focus. You found yourself in front of... one, two, three, four, and... five.... wait.. what?

Right before you stood four male figures (with the other seemed to have a more feminine build), male figures that looked awfully familiar to you for some odd reason, just why was that?

You were confused and curious as you surveyed your surroundings, realizing that maybe this was death? You would've never guessed that "life" after death would look like this. It was very.... interesting.

The buildings that surrounded you were intricate and otherworldly. Dazzling celestial landscapes and luminescent structures piqued your interest as you slowly and carefully stepped out of what you assumed was a shell.

Its' architect and infrastructure reminded you of something, it seemed nostalgic—as if you've seen this exact building before. The more you observed and watched, your eyes tracing every precise curve and detail of the buildings your heart began to pick up its pace.

Your eyes searched every corner and inch, and finally, it landed back on the five figures you had spotted before and it wasn't until you caught sight of familiar faces that you were certain that you had to be hallucinating somehow after death.

There, standing in a circle, were figures that you could hardly believe were real: Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya. It was unmistakably them.

Their presence, their unmistakable aura of reverence, left you no doubt.

They watched you, their gazes filled with awe and admiration as if you were the embodiment of some long-awaited prophecy (and in this case, it was).

You were in disbelief. Disbelief that you had somehow been transported into the very game they were playing moments ago, but now they were tangible, real.

It was a long silence, it was both comfortable and uncomfortable with their longing gaze. You remained still as you checked around your surroundings once again before settling your eyes back on the group of people.

At your gaze they felt a shiver down their spine, and the hair on their skin stood up.

"W—Who are you guys?!" You yelled, narrowing your eyes to see if it was truly the characters from the game you adored.

Dan Heng's breath hitched at the sound of your booming voice, your voice... it was just like how they described what you would sound like in the carved stones and ancient scrolls.

The more he stared at you the more he wanted to come to you, to kneel down at your feet and profess how long he has been waiting for this moment.

With his eyes trained on your figure, he steps closer, Gepard notices and swiftly stops him from moving any further with his arm. Dan Heng looks to his side, confusion strewn on his face.

Not a single word was spoken yet with a stern gaze and the shake of a head, Dan Heng understood. Now was not the right time.

Minutes passed by in complete and utter silence, it unnerved you. Why were they so quiet? So watchful?

Finally, after what felt like hours, the silence was broken just with a couple words.

"We have been awaiting your arrival, Your Gracefulness."

note: after 5 months WOW. i've been so busy with things i haven't had the time to really sit down and work. I'm so sorry everyone!

tags 🏷️: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @saltylovetale-blog @toramune @oreo-ren @backintomykpopphaseagain @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @yurassia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealmap @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanist @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-ish @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcrow @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqq @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu @vanilla-sweets @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @seipaws @clavichordcleffa @uhhhiwassup @youdontneedyoknowlol @the-lazy-perfectionist @issacdarknight @lucienbarkbark @bizzybkd @obliviousariies2007 @coffee-seed

(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

for those i've taged: if you do not want to tagged for hsr drop a comment or message me.

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

[guppiechuu]

irresistible s.j. ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ (my little gift to you, yay for 100 followers!!)

length: 1.4k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, light masturbation

synopsis: in which your boyfriend, jake, struggles to pay attention to what you're saying, too distracted by how cute you look getting ready for bed.

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ (read part two here.)

——

Jake was trying to listen to you. Honest.

He was trying to focus on the words that were tumbling out of your mouth, a long winded description of your day and who you’d run into at the store and how annoying your friends could be and where you wanted to go over the weekend with him.

But you were prancing around in your pjs, thighs exposed under your little pink shorts, midriff peeking out every time you reached up to hang something back up in your closet.

He’d been waiting patiently for you to come home, sprawled in your bed scrolling on his phone for what felt like hours. He wasn’t even thinking about fucking you, but somehow he’d ended up with a hard-on anyways.

It wasn’t his fault. Your sheets were all soft and smelled like you, the corners bunched from where you’d grabbed them last night. Mixed in was the smell of his cologne, and the lotion you always used. The smell of both of you mingled together drove him crazy, sparking a build of pressure in his stomach.

It was like your room was designed to turn him on.

The miniskirt you’d worn out with him was hanging off the side of your hamper, wrinkled from his grip on your thighs. Your dresser drawer was half open, the one where you kept your vibrator hidden under your underwear. He could see the pink silicone poking out over the edge.

What had started as a half-hearted absentminded touch—just to ease the tension building beneath his sweats—had become a full on over-the-pants rub out. You wouldn’t be home for a little while longer, and you’d be tired from your day. If he could just take care of that gnawing ache beneath his boxers, he’d be able to drift off happily to sleep with you in his arms.

Well, you got home sooner than he’d expected.

“Jake?” You called, your footsteps echoing up the stairs towards your room.

Jake pulled his hand away from his groin, looking up as you came through your door, already exploding into your daily debrief for him.

“You were totally right. The sale ended yesterday.” You pouted. “I stopped by on my way home and everything was back to full price. I’m such a dummy, I should’ve gone last weekend like you said.”

“That’s alright baby,” He said, slightly breathless. His mind was scrambling to return to normal. “I’ll take you next weekend. I can pay, I don’t mind.��

You gave him a shy smile, bending over your bed to give him a kiss to the corner of his mouth. His stomach fluttered, the persistent ache beneath his boxers still there.

You got on with your nightly routine: changing out of your clothes, slipping into the pajamas laid out on your chair. You put your hair up as you spoke, missing a few strands that curled down the nape of your neck.

Jake was going crazy.

He bit his lip as you talked, nodding along to everything you were saying, trying to listen to every word. But he was just so damn into you—it was chemical at this point.

Just the smell of you on your sheets had him in a heated rut, and now you were there in front of him, soft-skinned and basically half-naked.

“Jungwon and Sunoo are going out for dinner on Friday. Do you think we can go?”

“Mm, yeah,” He said absentmindedly, watching the way your back curved under the waistband of your shorts. He shifted slightly, aching for you under his pants.

“Don’t you have solo practice that evening?”

“Hm?”

“Friday. I thought you reserved a studio for that night.”

“Oh, yeah. I did.”

Did what? Jake could hardly focus.

You weren’t oblivious to the way he was adjusting on your bed, his hand going to rest over his crotch nonchalantly. He’d always had a bad poker face.

When your boyfriend wanted you, there was no way to hide it.

“Are you okay?” You half-laughed, watching as he palmed himself slightly through his sweats.

“Mhm,” He said, still not fully paying attention. His hips jutted slightly, chasing the friction of his hand.

“Jakey,” You murmured, raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, baby. I’m listening, I swear.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but went on, talking about which restaurants Sunoo had suggested. But it was obvious Jake’s mind was elsewhere.

He kept shifting where he sat, not-so-subtly pressing his hips up into his hand, eyes tracking you wherever you moved. He was getting more and more flustered—dragging his hand through his hair, tugging on the neck of his hoodie, chewing on his lip until you thought it might actually bleed.

“What’s up with you?” You laughed. “It’s like you’re ovulating or something.”

He smiled, lip between his teeth. “You’re way too hot. It’s fucked up.”

“I’m glad to know the pajama look is doing it for you, weirdo.”

Oh, but it was. Your cute little ass and the squish of your thighs, all on display for him to see. He wanted to devour you right then and there, put his lips all over your body, taste every inch of you.

“You’re the one parading around in those little shorts,” He protested. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s not? I could always… take them off, if they’re bothering you that much?” Your eyes glinted playfully and Jake’s dick throbbed, aching.

He groaned as you hooked your fingers over them, sliding them all the way down your legs and kicking them to the side.

“Baaabe, that’s not fair,” He whined, falling over to bury his face in your comforter. “You’re being mean.”

“You’re the one not listening to anything I’m saying,” You teased.

Jake felt the edge of the bed dip down and he peeked out from the corner of his eye. You’d pulled your shirt off too, tits exposed, stomach bare. The torturous, tantalizing way you preferred to sleep. He cursed under his breath.

“Missed you today,” You said, climbing on top of him.

He rolled under you, flat on his back, as your legs went on either side of his waist. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He lifted his head up as you leaned down to kiss him again, his hands flat on your ass. Fuck, he loved your body. The weight of you on his groin sent a shiver of pleasure up his stomach.

“Y/n,” He protested as you leaned back, grinding your hips down on him.

“What, you don’t want it?”

“Aren’t you tired, baby? You’ve been up all day.”

You shook your head, grabbing onto his shoulders as he sat up beneath you. “Come on, you know me, Jakey. Can’t fall asleep unless I feel you.”

And you felt him alright. The fabric of his sweats were thin—you could feel how stiff he was, dick rubbing deliciously against your core which was getting wetter by the second.

He groaned again as you sped up, hips working beneath his hands. He grabbed ahold of your waist and flipped you both over, digging his hips down into yours as he opened his mouth against you.

“Feels so good, baby,” He said against your lips.

Your underwear was slick, wetting the front of his pants. He didn’t give a fuck. All he cared about was keeping his cock wedged between your folds, chasing the pressure that was building in his stomach.

“Jake,” You panted, reaching out to pull his sweats and boxers down.

He put a hand between your legs, pushing your soaked underwear to the side and pressing his dick up against you, skin to skin.

“Fuck,” He moaned, shivering at how wet and hot you were for him.

“Fuck me?” You asked, pushing your hips up into him.

He obliged, sliding himself inside you until he was buried to the hilt. You stretched around him perfectly, your walls all soft and soaked for him.

It was a quick fuck. He rutted into you, holding your hips down with a ringed hand as his body stuttered, the release of pent-up tension blurring his thoughts momentarily.

You moaned into his mouth while you came, your legs wrapped around his waist to hold him in closer, deeper. His body shook, hips jutting into yours as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, your name spilling from his mouth.

He curled his hips into yours as you both came down, a thin layer of sweat gracing both your faces. Jake was breathing heavily, planting kisses all over your face as you giggled beneath him.

“So.” Kiss.

“Fucking.” Kiss.

“Hot.” Kiss.

After, you curled into his chest in the dark, breathing in the warm smell of his skin.

“Night,” You mumbled into the base of his neck, pressed as close as one could possibly be.

“Good night, baby,” He yawned. “M’gonna fuck you again in the morning.”

You smiled against his throat. “Promise?” You said teasingly.

“On my life.”

——

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ hiiii guys thank you so so much for 100 followers!! I’ve said this before but I’m new to tumblr and really just wanted a place to be an enha freak without anyone irl finding me hehe ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

it makes me so happy when y’all interact with my writing and just warms my heart so much that people like reading my stuff idk idk I’m happy just thinking about it (>⩊<)

enjoy this quick little oneshot that my roommate actually inspired (thanks bestie). I hope I can keep writing stuff that yall enjoy!!! have a great day :3 .☘︎ ݁˖

[beloveds-embrace]

╰┈➤ A Harbinger’s Claim

Spoilers for 5.1 Archon Quest, yandere capitano x reader

yan!capi x soldier!reader who used to idolize/adore him? 👀

Specifically, you used to be a black serpent knight who worked under him. From the very first day you met him, you could not help but admire him; such a strong, powerful man- worthy of being a commander, worthy of being loved and respected. Your crush on him, your own commander, had been visible to any and all that cared to look. And that included even him, as well. 

Though he never quite returned your feelings. all of your attempts at catching his attention fell flat. Your commander did not care for romance, and did not care for you beyond you being a knight under his command. Still, you persisted and tried your best again and again to earn his praise and affection- through always training, keeping spare food from your own rations for him, willing to do any and all tasks. 

And then, Khaenri'ah falls, and you get injured and cursed to a painful immortality. It's devastating, it's cruel and painful and you end up separating from your group, including your commander- never knowing what happens to him.  

Five hundred years pass in resentment and bitterness, then a bone-deep exhaustion and now... 

The wind howls over the desolate, forgotten battlefield, carrying with it memories of long-lost battles and fallen comrades. You stand among the remnants, staring at the tattered banner of a past era. The centuries have been cruel, not just to the land, but to you. You don't know why you came back here, yet you can't bring yourself to leave just yet. 

Your legs ache- a dull, persistent pain that has been your constant companion for centuries. The curse has worn you down, body and soul, until all that remains is a tired will to survive. You sigh and shift your weight, leaning heavily on the stone slab you were using to remain upright. There’s little left to fight for now. Just a hollow existence.

Then, you feel it- the heavy presence of someone behind you. It’s not the first time you’ve felt a presence like this, and for a brief moment, a flicker of recognition stirs in your chest. You turn slowly, your body heavy with exhaustion, and there he is. Once, he'd been your commander. Now, he is a Fatui Harbinger.

Capitano.

The man you once idolized, the commander you adored. But that was so long ago, so distant it feels like another lifetime. Now, the sight of him- tall, imposing, clad in the black armor- stirs nothing inside you but weariness. His mask is as dark and unreadable as the void, hiding every part of his face, giving no hint of the man beneath. The commander you knew is long gone, replaced by this Harbinger, cold and unrelenting. Even if certain traits still exist within him.

“You’ve come back,” you murmur, your voice barely louder than the wind.

His head tilts ever so slightly, the black mask making it impossible to see his eyes. Yet you can feel his gaze locked on you, weighing you down even more. Once, you would have given everything for such attention.

“I’ve come to claim you.” he replies, his voice deep and resonating from behind the mask. The sound of it is steady, almost indifferent, yet it carries an unsettling weight of finality. 

You don’t move, don’t resist. The fatigue that has plagued you for centuries sinks deeper into your bones. “Claim me?” you echo softly,  chuckling. “What’s left to claim, Capitano? There’s nothing here anymore. I hold no adoration for you anymore."

The mask remains still, impenetrable, yet his presence grows more suffocating as he steps closer. “You were always mine,” he says quiet yet resolute. “And you still are.”

You sigh, not out of fear, but of sheer exhaustion. The energy to fight him, to resist, just isn’t there anymore. “I’m not the same soldier I used to be, commander. That person’s long gone. You should leave me here, where I belong.”

But Capitano doesn’t leave. Instead, his gloved hand reaches out and grips your wrist, firm but not painful. You don’t pull away. You simply look at him, weary and resigned, watching as he brings out a ring, dark as his armor. You don’t ask why—your mind too clouded with fatigue to even care.

He slides the ring onto your finger, his voice low and steady. “This is your place, with me. You’ve wandered for too long.”

You look down at the ring. It's cold. “It’s been centuries, Capitano,” you say, your voice a whisper. “Do you really still think I belong to you?”

He pulls you closer, until you’re pressed against his chestplate, the harsh cold of his armor making you shiver. His masked face hovers above yours, unreadable, but his grip is firm, unyielding. “I never stopped thinking it,” he murmurs, voice deep and possessive. “You admired me once- more than anyone. That devotion is mine to keep.”

You don’t fight him. You can’t. The years have taken too much out of you. “That was a lifetime ago,” you sigh, resting your head lightly against his armor. “I’m not sure I even know who you are anymore.”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he says, his voice soft but filled with dark certainty. “You will stay with me. We will be wed, and you will never be alone again. Your suffering ends with me.”

For a moment, you close your eyes, letting the heavy weariness wash over you. Part of you wants to resist, to push him away. But the truth is, you’re tired- so tired. The centuries of pain and solitude have worn you down to the point where even the idea of fighting feels like too much. Capitano’s grip is cold, but it’s steady, and in that moment, you almost feel… relieved. You don’t want to admit it, but the thought of someone else taking control, of someone else carrying the weight you’ve been shouldering alone, is tempting. Especially if it's him.

“Is this really what you want?” you ask, though you already know his answer.

His arms tighten around you, drawing you in even closer. “It’s not just what I want,” he says, voice low. Unbending. “It’s what will be.”

He lifts you into his arms with ease, your body too tired to struggle, too worn to protest. You glance up at the dark mask once more, seeing nothing but the void where his face should be. And yet, for the first time in what feels like ages, you don’t feel completely alone.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“Snezhnaya,” he answers, his tone firm and absolute. “My home. Where you belong.”

You let out a soft sigh, leaning into his chest, your body going limp in his hold. “I’m too tired to fight you, Capitano. I don’t think I care anymore.”

His response is unwavering. “You won’t need to fight. You’ll be with me now. I’ll take care of you.”

As he begins to walk, each step echoing the finality of your fate, you close your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion. The world around you fades, and all you can feel is his steady, unrelenting presence. The future, dark and uncertain, is no longer your burden to bear. So what if your freedom is to be taken away?

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” you murmur faintly.

“I do,” Capitano replies, his masked face tilting down toward you, his voice calm yet possessive. If he holds you any tighter, the claws of his armor would dig into your skin. “You’re mine. That is all you need.”

And as the cold winds of the battlefield sweep behind you, you let go of whatever fight you had left.

Part 2

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 13 — BITING/MARKING

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — cyno, diluc, tighnari, alhaitham

— warnings. — fem! reader, biting (mentions of blood), marking you up, oral (fem! receiving), dirty talk

⚝ CYNO

with cyno's facial expression being unreadable as he's towering above you, he sinks his teeth right below your collarbone like he's staking his claim— truly, placing his sharp canines like an executioner's precision or rather a scholar's fascination? and when your back arches at his sinful procedure, when your breath catches like a caught bird in your throat, he exhales like he's satisfied some ancient hunger.

his bites burn like a brand— lingering long after the pain was gone, with a sharpened, bone chilling control, each mark placed not in a frenzy but in precision you only see in battles, a discipline so complete it burned you from within.

his cock slip and slides into you as his teeth sink on your neck mid thrust, right as your nails rake red lines down his shoulder blades to support your shuddering body from the way cyno has been manhandling you all night— yet, the man doesn't even flinch, no, he just groans as if he likes it, coming low from deep inside his chest as though the taste of your skin and the contort of your pussy around his cock was something he must devour in full.

his fingers dig into your hips as he grounds you, holding you in place when he thrusts up again, adding up on rhythm this time— going from slower and more focused on marking you up to brutal, dragging against the walls of your body like he's carving his path into you, the sheer feeling of your drenched pussy convulsing around him like that, over and over milking his cock of all its worth was making his thrusts turn a little sloppy.

"you'll remember this," cyno groans lowly, dragging his tongue over the fresh mark, "no matter where you go, who you see, this mark, this ache, this stretch, it's mine," as the moans bubbling within your throat fail you at last, lost in the depth of your own disarray as your body welcomes to battering sparks in your belly, caught in the brutal grip of his cock splitting you with a suffocating force.

every motion of his rhythm, every shift of his hips, pull something tight inside of you— a yearning and a desperate want, your breathing hitching, unable to get used to his pace as each greedy roll of hips stretch you, devour you slow and consuming, until you were crushed by him entirely.

his cock felt impossibly thick inside you, each thrust a promise written in spit and bruises as the aching bloom of another bite just landed under your jaw, coaxing out tiny, precious whines from your strained throat.

and when cyno licks the blood from his bottom lip, smiling with enjoyment like he's swallowed your soul, you realize he hasn't even cum himself yet— naturally, he's edged himself on for hours since he doesn't plan to give himself any solace, not until your body was dripping with his teeth marks first.

your mind was drifting, lost in the haze of his name, a whisper that clung to you like smoke as his scent wrapped around you, heavy and persistent before pulling you deeper into the fog of him, until you could hardly remember where you end and where he begins.

it's as if every thought was branded by cyno— echoing endlessly in the hollow of your chest.

⚝ DILUC

diluc's teeth scrape against the inside of your thigh first— testing the waters with his touch being blistering, like a tremor on the edge of the abyss and well, the master of the dawn winery wasn't sure if he'll fall for the addictiveness of you— yet little does he realize he's already looking over the edge, licking his lips and enjoying the way you react and taste.

he groans when you flinch against him, or when your legs tremble open and part wider for him the moment his sharp teeth graze at the pulsing flesh, the sound of his grunts accompanying his bites so low it straight up melted into your skin like liquid heat.

diluc's mouth moves up next, his tongue dragging saliva along your flesh before he bites down again, this time slightly harder and searing, so it'll properly sting, "let them see," he breathes, voice all smoke and fire as he sucks a bruise into the softness of your lower area, right above your clit, "let them know you're mine before you can even speak and say it yourself, love."

he holds you close, the heat of his body a constant reminder of the battle raging inside him— a conflict between control and the undeniable hunger that only you could satisfy, in fact, he's a man driven by deep emotions, and every gesture of affection from him reflected that inner fire, tempered by his normally reserved nature.

he presses his tongue into your clit next, thick and burning as he laps at the sensitive pearl, your body opening up to him so hard you sob out and hide your hands within his hair— your fingers clawing at his strands and digging him deeper into your cunt, nails dragging over his scalp like you're trying to ground yourself through the overstimulation and the wetness of his tongue.

your legs crush his head as your skin turns all sticky with sweat and spit and the wet slap of his tongue repeatedly lapping over your pussy as he slides his wet muscle between your folds with that feverish, balmy pace— his hand now searching one of your own to tangle his fingers within it, while the other was gripping at your thigh and pushing you into his mouth, fucking you with his tongue so wet and wild it felt like you might break apart any second.

to your surprise, diluc bites again— not hard, silly, but catching you off guard as he teasingly grazes his teeth over the sensitive skin, shamelessly groaning into your pussy like he's only just begun.

"no one else could made you fall apart like this, right?" diluc breathes, his voice wrecked, trembling at the edges of awe and delirium as the flicks of his tongue showed the opposite, battering you up, "you were built to come undone under me."

⚝ TIGHNARI

tighnari presses his nose into your neck first, his breathing stagnated and hot against your skin as he takes in your scent, whispering sweet nothings you honestly couldn't even decipher— it's something about that low, vibrating choice of tone that barely counted as anything but pure love.

although then, then he bites— utterly fast and sharp without you seeing it coming at all as the pain sinks into the spot between your neck and collarbone, your legs seizing up instantly, twitching violently as your moans break into whines and cries of his name, like something inside you snapped from the sharp press of teeth, from the way you took it.

"you're always so sensitive, crying already," tighnari mocks you a little, licking the aching spot blooming across your skin, "you're so easy to mark up, you're taking it so well," as his kisses remain precise, attempting to decipher the unspoken language of your skin, each press of his lips a careful investigation into your deepest desires.

you were entranced by your boyfriend, you feel it with every snap of his hips— every thick, punishing inch shoving inside you as your body turns soaked, squelching each time he grinds his cock in, the filthy noise becoming even louder when he pushes out as your thighs quiver around his hips.

in all honesty, tighnari wasn't even trying to be gentle with you, he wants to see you clutching at the sheets and demanding more, dizzy from the filth he's putting on you, more so from how full you were as he looks down on where your bodies connected, his tail coiling tightly around your ankle like he cannot stand any distance between you.

his teeth sink in again— just under your ear this time, where it'll definitely hurt and turn you on the most as your vision blurs when your walls clench tight around his length, choking his cock and milking him like your body's gone utterly feral.

tighnari sounds starved for you, yeah, like he's been crawling through a lifetime of thirst just to end up here, fucked so deep inside of you and getting milked by your walls as he cannot tell where he would end up without you as his breath shudders at your ear, hips pressing in like he wanted to disappear inside and never come back.

although, his voice always remains soft, a little aloof too, but there's a certain pressure in it— a quiet insistence, as if he's asking for permission to learn the depths of you a bit more, not simply to possess or claim you, but to understand your pleasure and memorize what you liked the most.

⚝ ALHAITHAM

with the precision of someone calculating the limits of reason, alhaitham's hands move with each touch resembling a quiet experiment whereas you— his willing subject, lets him bite down like he's tasting you— quiet and calculated as his mouth seals over the dip of your breast when you cry out, not just from the pain but from the claim of it, the quiet violence of his precision.

"do you see what you do to me?" alhaitham whispers as he seals your skin with teeth and tongue, dragging the bruise out slowly and watching the inflamed splotch rise like he's planting something unique into your skin, "you whine so easily for me," his presence looms like an unfinished sentence, always on the verge of something deeper, something more, testing your limits without speaking a word.

his cock was heavy inside of you, yet moving slow, stretching your cunt open with every roll of hips, making you slick from the base to your thighs but putting the most attention on your neck.

you're pinned beneath him, legs folded back, belly trembling from how fast he hits your most sensitive parts as he suppresses any noises coming from his throat— instead, he watches, alhaitham watches like a scholar and a sinner both, his eyes dark with need, tracking every flutter of your cunt like it's the only truth he's ever believed in, the blissful expression battered all over your face was a sight to die for.

you feel like you're being studied and destroyed all at once, your back arching in tune with his movements as your eyes roll back into your head, his hips shifting his angle when you scream the moment he changes the grip on your hips, fucking into you hard.

alhaitham slants forward to cage you within his big arms, hugging you, his large hands cupping behind your head in order to prevent you from bumping against the head board as he attacks a tender spot deep inside your warmth, catching every twitch and swallow of your pussy on his cock.

"i could write a thesis on how you fall apart," he admits bluntly with that damned smirk on his face, biting the underside of your jaw now as his tongue slowly drags over the mark afterwards, "but it's so much more satisfying to make you show me instead."

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