Au Where Suguru Doesn't Defect But Brings Home Nanako And Mimiko One Night After A Wild Mission, Wanting

au where suguru doesn't defect but brings home nanako and mimiko one night after a wild mission, wanting nothing more than to make sure the small girls are fed, hydrated, and cozy in a warm bed after what they have faced. he arrives and stops in his tracks when he sees satoru, who just brought home little tsumiki and megumi, and you with tiny yuuta, who has been anxiously hiding behind you ever since you brought him home. you and your boyfriends just stare at each other, all thinking the same thing.

"wow," you say first to break the tension-filled silence, then start laughing. behind you, yuuta relaxes a bit, his shoulders slumping in what you're certain is relief. it's gonna be alright now. i'll be okay.

suguru shrugs with a sheepish smile. "well then." next to him, nanako and mimiko also smile. exhausted, but soft and genuine. no more danger. we're safe here.

"okay!" satoru grins as he claps his hands together. "we'll make things work for now, but it looks like we're going to need a bigger house, yeah?" one of his hands pats tsumiki's shoulder, and the other ruffles megumi's spiky hair. both of them exhale, allowing the tension to leave their bodies. he's a bit crazy, but he won't let anything happen to us. things are finally looking up.

three became eight that night. it's busy and chaotic most days, but you, satoru, and suguru wouldn't change a single thing.

Time to face my fears.

I haven't watched morbius yet. Maybe I'll watch it after I wake up.

ps. I hope I'll never wake up

𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: The rain ruining his plans might have been the best possible luck.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“It’s raining.” You point out, face nearly pressing on the window as you stare outside. It was going to happen sooner or later, the dark clouds had been adorning the sky the entire day, yet the day went dry.

“Raining?” Zayne sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t been staring at the same dark sky a couple of hours earlier. He stands up, walking over to look out the window as if he didn’t trust your word. You swear you hear him sigh when he confirms that it’s indeed raining.

“Is everything okay? Is our date still on?” You look at him, worried about his reaction. He wants to say that the rain will be over in ten minutes and the plans are still on… But it doesn’t look like it’ll stop any time soon.

“The rain is going to make things more… Difficult.” Zayne answers, not wanting to give up on the date idea just yet. There is no hope though, you can’t go stargazing when it’s storming out. You stare at him, trying to study the look on his face– A task that’s difficult since the man does a great job at suppressing any trace of emotion. “Maybe we have to change a couple of things.”

From now on he will leave the dates to you and only you, because the one time he plans something it’s ruined before it even begins. It’s what he gets for trying to be romantic, there’s a reason you’re the one that usually takes on the role.

“Like?” You ask, and he isn’t sure how to answer. He already had everything planned out, and he put his all to the specific date so now his brain is empty. The lack of answer makes you chuckle. “So we’re staying in?”

“Unless I get a reservation in time.” Zayne reaches for his phone to look up restaurants nearby, trying to salvage the night but you snatch the device from his hands. He raises his brows, wondering what you have in mind.

“Let’s stay in. We can cook something, play a couple of games… Other stuff.” You respond, and Zayne fights back a smile. It’s great to have someone pick up his slack. “I found this new recipe that I’ve been dying to try.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’m on it.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. He’s willing to do anything when you have his attention.

“I think we have everything, I just need you to chop up some stuff.” You tell him, and he nods in response. He’s not a great cook since he barely has the time or energy to make his own meals, but at the very least he’s great at chopping up stuff. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There’s a subtle smile on his lips, and it overflows your heart with joy when you notice it. You wonder why he smiles but it’s never unwelcome. Especially from him.

You kiss his cheek before telling him, “Let’s get to work.”

After nearly burning the house down trying the new recipe, you surprisingly end up with a delicious meal on your table. You’re enjoying your meal, too busy stuffing your face to keep up a proper conversation. You don’t need to talk either way, each other’s presence is enough to satisfy any need for interaction. Though Zayne can’t help but comment,

“Surprisingly it doesn’t taste burnt.” Which makes you roll your eyes. He can’t help but bring it up when you told him a million times that you had it under wraps.

“I told you I had it handled.” You respond. “Or do you not have faith in me, Dr. Zayne?”

“Dr. Zayne?” He raises a brow, and you hum in response. He lets out a low laugh before answering, “I do have faith in you… But I am allowed to draw some conclusions when I see a flame coming from the pan.”

“That wasn’t a flame.” You argue, and he slightly shakes his head.

“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” He points out, and you puff out a breath. You cross your arms, your appetite gone because your boyfriend won’t allow you to have the last word. He never does, and it might be his only defect. He couldn’t be perfect.

“Next time I’m leaving the cooking to you then.” You pout. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for the light fire, it could happen to anyone plus you were cooking a new recipe.

“You’re a far better cook than I am.” He responds, hoping that it’ll make you feel better. He’s staring at you, trying to decipher what you feel based on the expression on your face. You only stick out your bottom lip, clearly not happy with what he’s said.

What did he say wrong? He said all the right words, you should be gleaming not… Looking disappointed.

“Only because you don’t have time to pick up the skill, if you did then you would be saying something far much different.” You end up telling him, and he takes a moment to look at your face. He’s not sure how to answer. He ends up by telling the truth,

“Probably.” And the moment the word leaves his lips, he realizes he couldn’t have picked a worse answer. You look absolutely mortified, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“Probably? You’re not supposed to say that.” You say, and he gives you a subtle nod. He’s not supposed to tell you the truth then.

“What am I supposed to say then?” He sounds ever so serious, and one swift look at his face makes you think that he is, indeed, serious.

“No, I doubt it. You’re the best cook ever, dear.” You end up answering, almost laughing at your own response. You see a twinge of a smirk on his face, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something. He lets himself loose around you, and often laughs at any stupid joke that you make, but it still feels rare when you actually see him smile.

“Alright then, so not the truth. Simple.” He answers, and the smirk that comes to his lips doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually does. You puff out a breath and he says, “Repeat the statement.”

“No.” Your answer is firm, therefore he won’t bug you to do it. He’ll drop the subject.

You two continue eating, and for once he’s the one that makes most of the conversation. He should apologize, he should’ve chosen better words.

“If it makes you feel better, the one time I plan a date… It starts to rain.” Zayne hopes that by admitting his own failures, he’ll make you feel better. You can’t help but chuckle.

“That doesn’t mean that you suck, it just means that the weather isn’t on your side.” You reassure him, face turning to look out the window. The rain still falls, much harder than before. “Plus I’m enjoying the date. Well, I was before you–”

“In my defense, I was initially complimenting the dish.” He argues, and you can’t help but laugh. A petty argument from a compliment. Though you’d argue that it was backhanded, Zayne isn’t all that great with words– Unless it’s with him coming up with a witty comeback, or of course, explaining medical terminology.

“How about you start cleaning up while I look for a game we can play?” You change the topic as you finish up your meal. Zayne immediately nods, more than willing to fulfill the task that you’ve assigned. He begins to clear the table, and you stand up to look for the games that are hidden away. Games that you’ve gotten to play with him but you’ve never had the time to actually sit down together and figure out.

You look for something that’ll make the night more fun, and also something that you have yet to play… But you still land on an old game. Something that gets both of you competitive. You end up pulling an old game that you’ve played a dozen times with him. A game that makes you want to break up with him, but when you make up it’s a memorable night.

You set up the table with the game, and wait for Zayne to finish up in the kitchen. You’d offer to help if he was doing any other task, but you aren’t going out of your way to clean up, even if it is to help your amazing boyfriend. Maybe you can take a peek at the cards as you wait for him to come back to the table.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Zayne walks back to the table, grabbing the cards that you definitely didn’t take a quick look at, and shuffling them. “Who’s going first?”

“I am. I don’t trust you while playing kitty cards.” You respond, and he hands out two cards. You frown as you look at them, knowing that you’re starting off on a bad foot. Your assist cards can help you make a comeback, so you’re only praying you get lucky with that.

“I should be the one saying that, I saw you look at the cards.” He lets out a low laugh as he gives himself three cards. He takes a seat across from you before commenting, “Given by the look on your face, you didn’t get all that lucky.”

“I’m going to win. Mark my words.”

Though you’re as competitive as you can be, luck simply isn’t on your side. Zayne doesn’t help your case, using every card that he has, against your favor. You glare at him with every move he takes, and he smirks, proud of his every move.

“Can you leave me alone? I barely have any points, there’s no point for you to null my card.” You complain, and Zayne shakes his head.

“I have to take every possible precaution.” He answers, putting down a card that takes away your turn– And if that isn’t horrible enough, he takes away one of the kitty cards that you’ve put down. “Last time you won, I heard about it for weeks.”

“Last time I lost, you also heard about it for weeks. Matter of fact, we almost broke up.” You point out, and you watch as the corner of his lips turn. He’s trying his best to fight back a smile, and you have to roll your eyes. “And if you keep up with your act, we might actually break up.”

“It’s just a game of kitty cards.” Zayne says, which makes you glare at him. You cross your arms, a scoff leaving your lips. Just a game of kitty cards? The game becomes a very serious matter when you’re as competitive as you are.

“If you don’t take it seriously, then you should let me win.” You claim, and Zayne knows that unless he stops playing, your date will completely go sour. He just fixed matters after his unnecessary comment, he can’t let himself nearly ruin the date once again. He could try to let you win, but at this point there’s no way you can make a comeback. Plus, it’s not satisfactory for him.

“How about we stop.” He suggests, and you know you can’t win.

“Fine.” You answer, a hint of attitude in your voice just so he notes that you’re not happy with him.

“What were we going to do today?” You ask him, beginning to clear the table. The sight of the unfair game is keeping you mad, so it’s best to clean up. Zayne joins you.

“Stargazing.” He responds, which perks up your eyebrows. Where exactly? “It’s a place not too far from here that gives a perfect view of the city, and I thought it’d be a nice date. I bought a couple of snacks to have a late picnic, but the universe isn’t on my side.”

“That is such a cute date!” You comment, eyes looking out the window to see that the rain has calmed down. “We can still do it.”

Zayne looks in the same direction. It’s not what he pictured, but it’s not a bad idea.

“Just for a minute.” He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours before he guides you outside. Your anger is long forgotten when you feel his large hand lightly squeezing your own. There’s still some light rain when you exit the place, but you aren’t staying outside for too long so it’s not an issue.

“Look, there’s a full moon.” You immediately point to the sky. The clouds had been hiding the moon all night, and now you finally get a chance to glance at it. “Just look at it, it’s so beautiful.”

“It really is beautiful.” He answers, though his eyes aren’t looking at the moon. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, as he finally looks up at the sky. Stargazing is a dumb date if you aren’t going to the countryside. In a way, he’s glad his plans were ruined.

You look back at Zayne, a foolish smile coming to your lips. Stargazing would’ve been nice, even if you don’t get a great sight, laying next to him for a whole night is the type of date that you need. You don’t even need to talk, each other’s presence is more than enough for you to be satisfied.

“Why are you smiling?” He finally looks back at you. It’s not a complaint, he’s overjoyed to find you smiling. He just wonders what’s going on in your mind. Two fingers come up to his face, brushing away the hair that’s on his forehead before you get on your tip-toes to press a kiss on it.

“You are so cute.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Out of all words that you could’ve picked, cute is the one that he least expected.

“Cute?” He responds, and you hum in response. Nevertheless, it’s a compliment so he’ll accept it. He smiles back at you, gaze getting lost into your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, maybe that’s the reason he’s so desperately in love with you. “Cute. I’ll take it.”

“Let’s go inside before you get sick.” There’s a mischievous smile on your lips as you say the words. He’s the one that usually says the phrase, but the tables have turned. Zayne lets go of your hand, hands falling on your waist before pulling you closer.

“Let’s enjoy the moment a little longer, I don’t mind getting sick.” His nose brushes against yours, his eyes looking into yours ever so lovingly. His supple lips land on yours, pulling away within seconds. “It’s barely even raining.”

“Just a minute then.” You tell him, and he nods in response. However, Zayne doesn’t care to look at the sky. Apart from the full moon, there’s nothing that’s worth noting.

He loves the feeling of the rain on his skin, every droplet is a subtle reminder that this is real. He’s living in the moment. What’s happening right now is not a fragment of his imagination. The way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way your hands wrap behind his neck– It’s all real.

“Okay, we should go now. I don’t want you to get sick… And I also don’t want to get sick.” You say, and he smiles. He lets go of you, allowing you to go inside without an issue. You’re not going inside without him though. You grab Zayne’s hand and drag him inside, knowing that if he gets sick, you’ll end up getting sick as well.

“I’m going to get changed.” You tell him, and he mindlessly follows. He’s seen you naked many times, there’s no need to be shy… Except he is the one that gets shy at the mere thought of seeing you naked. He’s already flustered at the idea of you getting changed; but he still follows.

“What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” You ask him, getting to the room. There’s a sudden increase in temperature– Or is it just Zayne? Why does he feel hot?

“A movie… Sounds fun.” He swallows thickly, watching as you begin to lift up your shirt. His cheeks turn pink at the sight of some skin, but you never take off your shirt. You notice he’s staring, and you fight back on smirking.

“Do you have something else in mind?” You watch him step towards you, ever so slowly. He’s hesitating. Should he? He doesn’t want to turn the sweet night into something… More. But he does.

He wants to feel every inch of you, and frankly, the shirt that you have on outlines everything which doesn’t really help. Maybe he’s a pervert for the thoughts that creep into his head, but it’s hard to think differently when you look like this right before him.

Before you know it, Zayne’s lips land on yours, tongue exploring your mouth before it finds your own. His tongue presses against yours while his hands desperately try to take off the damp clothes that cover your body. Very skilled hands struggle, nerves overtaking him at the thought of feeling your body. An action he’s done many times before, but he turns into putty each and every time.

You’re not as nervous though, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it without an issue. Your hands go into his boxers, feeling him up which makes the man pathetically whimper into your kiss. He can come undone from a single move. And even when your hands are wrapped around his cock, he’s too nervous to touch under your shirt.

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until you pull far enough that the bond breaks. You take off your shirt, and Zayne is watching you as if he were a teenager all over again. Cheeks burn red at the sight of some skin, it’s truly pathetic. It’s not just some skin though, you’re getting completely undressed in front of him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s dumbfounded, it’s as if he’s never seen this before. This is nothing new to him, but it always feels like the first time… That’s a good thing, right?

His lips land on yours again, though he takes more risks this time as his hand fondles your breast. His lips don’t last long on your mouth, choosing to kiss down your neck, before his lips land on your breasts. His lips kiss every inch of your skin before his tongue circles around your nipple.

It’s nice, but you need more. Your body is begging to feel every inch of him. Luckily for you, it’s as if Zayne can read your mind.

“I need to taste more of you. Please.” There’s desperation behind his eyes, it’s as if he needs it. You get on the bed for him, legs spreading without a shame in the world.He stares down at you and he licks his lips. Maybe this is how he should’ve led the date in the first place.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He says as he gets on his knees. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up. So gentle and shy, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. Doing things slowly is what makes this more exciting.

“Smells so sweet.” He finally gets to your pussy, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit before he kisses it. His lips feel so soft on you. He kisses your clit again before his tongue begins to flick it. Tastes even better than he remembered.

Sweeter than he could ever imagine.

Low moans escape your lips as you feel his tongue work on you. The sound of your voice is perfect, all the motivation he needs to do this. It’s his reward for the night, and he couldn’t be happier. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.

He kisses your clit, two long fingers running through your folds to gather your slick. Once his fingers are lubricated enough, he slowly pushes them in. He begins to suck on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You moan his name, pleasure already consuming you.

He curves his fingers so they hit just the right spot. You bite down your lip, feeling embarrassed at the thought of being too loud. He’s looking up at you, and the look on your face is something he wants to have ingrained in his memory.

His fingers pick up speed, and your hands grip the bed sheets. Pleasure consumes you, your climax slowly overtaking your body. You’re moaning his name again, unable to contain yourself as sex clouds your mind.

“That’s it, baby! That’s so good.” You can’t help yourself as your boyfriend hits all the right spots. It’s music to his ears. Even when he’s been congratulated for his many achievements, this is the best thing he’s ever heard.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest, your body quivering as you finally reach your climax. Zayne pulls out his fingers, tongue continuing to lap at your cunt until he’s finally satisfied. He presses a kiss on your clit when he’s finished.

“I need you, baby. Please.” You say, and Zayne can’t afford to waste another moment. It hurts to even think with the uncomfortable feeling that’s in his pants. He walks to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube before giving all his attention to you. He gets undressed before getting on top of you.

“Are you sure you want this?” Zayne asks as he pours the lube all over his dick. Maybe he should consider some sort of protection, but he needs to fully feel you. He needs to feel every inch of your body.

“I need you, please. Give it to me.” Your voice is enough to drive him wild. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing himself into you. He bites his lip, not wanting the pathetic noise that leaves his throat to be audible. You feel so nice and warm around his cock, so fucking perfect in every single way.

“It’s so good.” He mutters, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he feels you around him. He bottoms out, stopping to give you time to adjust.

“Move.” You tell him, and Zayne begins to move with slow thrusts. His eyes focus on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. It’s hard for him to not get nervous when you look like this, so fucking perfect.

“You’re so tight.” He says, hands gripping the bed sheets. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands going to the back of your neck to push him down. Your lips meet his in a messy but passionate kiss.

You drive him insane.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You praise him, and you hear a groan come from his throat. His thrusts pick up speed, slowly losing himself inside of you. All composure comes undone when it comes to you.

He watches your hand move down your torso, and before you can even finish your thought, his hand takes over. His fingers play with your clit, doing everything just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, moaning his name over and over again.

“Fuck.” He curses, a word that rarely leaves his lips. But what else can he say when you’re squeezing around him? He shuts his eyes, too overwhelmed by everything that goes on. Your hands go to his back, nails digging into his soft flesh which makes him moan– The slight pain heightens the pleasure.

“Zayne, I’m gonna–” You begin, pleasure overtaking your body as another climax approaches. Zayne hits all the right spots, he simply knows your body too well.

“I know, dear. I know.” He’s out of breath. He’s close too. It’s just too much for him to handle. But you’re one step ahead of him. Your nails drag along the skin of his back as pleasure gets the best of you. You see white, finally reaching your high.

“Good job.” He praises you, knowing that he’s not going to last much. You’re just too much for him, which in the context, is a wonderful thing. His thrusts get sloppy, getting more vocal by the second.

“Can I finish inside?” He asks, and you frantically nod your head, not even having the words to say yes. You pull him into a kiss, and he groans into it as he releases his warm cum into you. A dragged out sigh leaves his lips when he pulls away from the kiss.

He stays buried inside of you, not wanting to leave your warmth just yet. He stares into your eyes for a bit, getting lost in them once again. There’s a certain spark in them, one that he’s noticed only appears when you look at him. The same spark that appears in his eyes.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask him as he pulls out of you. He lays down beside you, turning his head to look at your sweaty face.

“Clean up first.” He says, though you don’t listen and nuzzle up next to him. He rolls his eyes, but he still wraps his arms around you. “I admit, this is much better than stargazing.”

“We could’ve done that there too.” You respond without missing a beat, and his face gets completely red. He definitely wasn’t imagining that. He supposes that you could’ve, but it wouldn’t be as special– It would be even more special, it just would be indecent.

“I like it better here.” He tells you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s warm, and there’s no bugs around.”

“You’re right.” You chuckle. “Could you imagine if a mosquito bit you–”

“How about I run you a bath?” Zayne cuts you off, knowing that the question that’s about to leave your lips is absurd. He doesn’t want to hear it.

“Will you join me?” You question, getting off him. He takes a moment to look at you before nodding in response.

A bath sounds nice.

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nottellingofname

9 months ago

Satoru would DEF be the type to carry his baby everywhere, showing his baby off to anyone he comes across. He’d be like Peter Parker with Mayday in Across the Spiderverse and nobody can convince me otherwise.

He’d carry his baby through the halls of Jujutsu High, bring them to class and training, and have his baby in a carrier during missions (ofc you have no idea about this).

“Hey everyone, look! He’s so sleepy! Isn’t he so cute? Here, let me show you guys some pictures-“

And a choir of groans from his students can he heard after he shows is camera roll filled with photos of his baby and you 🩵🤍

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nottellingofname

2 years ago

hehe what a sensitive boy <3

For the love of my life, Nines:

28. “each of my thoughts about you are improper”

59. “are you sure? once i start i don’t think i’m able to stop”

I just know you’ll cook up something hot with these 😌💅

@dattebae Here you go, lovely! I love that two of my Nines prompts chose number 28. Clearly we're all on the same page where this boy is concerned!

Nines x AFAB reader. Rated M.

The RK900 was the most…androidish android you’d ever seen. If Connor hadn’t informed you of the fact, you would never have guessed that the grey eyed model was a deviant. It took until the fifth time you spoke to him for you to learn he had a name.

You worked on the reception desk at the DPD, so you knew all the officers well. Connor had endeared himself to you very quickly by always stopping to say hello. You thought he was cute, but your co-worker got there first. Since they made a pretty adorable couple, you didn’t begrudge that. It had mostly been a harmless observation on your part anyway. Nines, however, was a different story.

The RK900 had been discovered in the CyberLife Tower, was deviated by Markus, and had come to work at the DPD with Connor. He was an upgrade to the RK800, although the team valued both androids as individuals, of course. Nines was undeniably impressive with his skillset, but Connor had the edge on people skills, most of which came down to his experience. He’d been alive longer, been a deviant longer.

Nines did not bother to say hello every morning, and had actually not even acknowledged your presence until he walked in with Connor one day. After witnessing Connor stopping for a brief chat with you and your colleagues, he made more of an effort to be…pleasant. That was probably the kindest word you could use.

Small talk didn’t come easily to him. At least, not naturally. You’d seen him fake it for a witness once, no doubt letting his social relations program step in for him. The change was remarkable. He’d been warm and friendly, chatting about the latest Gears game, handsome face wearing an easy smile. You’d almost gawped at him from behind the desk before remembering that that wouldn’t be very professional.

At first you’d been indignant, wondering why he didn’t put that effort in for you, but then it had occurred to you that it was all false. The way Nines acted with you and your colleagues was real. It might not be as warm as you would like, but it was genuine, and there was something to be said for that.

There was something so intriguing and mysterious about the RK900, you couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. You knew it was unrequited. He made that perfectly clear with his stoic face and cold eyes, striking an odd balance between making the effort to talk to you while giving the impression that he probably didn’t care about the answers. You knew nothing about him, other than the basic facts, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

There were plenty of people who had crushes on Connor, but from what you could see, you were the only one who thought about Nines. People admitted that he was hot, but were put off by his personality. Or lack thereof. According to the gossip you overheard, a man who appeared to be that stoic was likely to be cold in the bedroom. When you observed Nines’ uncaring nature, his focus solely on his job, you couldn’t help but see where they were coming from. Still, you kept thinking about him, kept seeing his face when you closed your eyes at night.

For a time, you just let your mind wander where it wanted to. It was a fun distraction, and you enjoyed the eye candy. After almost two months with no let-up, you were starting to feel a little concerned. Was this more serious than you’d thought? In which case, what were you supposed to do moving forward? At the start, his lack of interest didn’t bother you, but now…if your own interest ran deeper than you realised, you were fucked.

The smart thing to do would be to confide in Connor, who seemed to be Nines’ only friend, but you couldn’t. You’d never been the kind of person who could openly discuss your crushes, not even celebrity ones. It just felt too personal. As Nines’ friend, Connor would be able to tell you if your feelings had even the slightest chance of being returned, but even the knowledge that he’d be able to put your mind at ease couldn’t make you break your silence. It was better to just assume you were on your own and deal with it.

And then someone brought a gun into the DPD.

It was a minor incident, all things considered, over in less than a minute thanks to Nines, but it shook you. There was a reason why you were a receptionist and not an officer. You didn’t handle dangerous situations well, you tended to freeze and forget every single part of your security training.

The man, a desperate Red Ice addict who didn’t want to be arrested, had attempted to start a hostage situation in reception, but Nines had gotten there first, taking a bullet to the shoulder like it was nothing before snatching the gun out of the man’s hands. He’d tossed the gun aside, had the man on the floor and handcuffed before you could blink, but all you could think was that he’d been shot.

He swept his grey eyes around reception, assessing the situation, the state of the people there, in a glance. His gaze seemed to settle on you a beat longer than everyone else, unless you were projecting, and you wondered why. Then Connor was there, insisting on patching up Nines’ gunshot wound before leading him away.

You worked out the rest of your shift with wide eyes, feeling your heartrate decrease slowly, worried when you didn’t see either android again. When you left the desk to go to the bathroom, you saw them both doing paperwork. Nines didn’t seem any worse for wear, other than the gaping hole in his clothing, tinged with blue.

Your gaze met his on your way back, and you debated going over to ask if he truly was okay, but then his LED spun and he began to talk, taking a phone call. You continued walking, a little disappointed, but glad to see that he seemed to be fine.

Your shift ended promptly at 6pm, and you headed to the break room to wash up your coffee mug before you had to get the bus home. Connor unexpectedly stepped into your path when you were done, and you smiled at him.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“Fine, but I was wondering if you could do me a favour.”

You glanced at him in surprise, but nodded. “Sure. What is it?”

“I need to head out to follow a lead, could you take this folder to the archive for me?”

He held up a neatly-labelled manila folder, and you reached out a hand for it. You had a little while before your bus came.

“No problem.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nodded. “See you tomorrow, Connor.”

He headed for the door, and you diverted to the elevator down to the archive. It wasn’t the first time you’d run small errands for the officers. You knew how busy they were, so as long as they didn’t take advantage of your good nature, you didn’t mind helping out with small things. You were surprised to find Nines there too.

“Oh. Hello.”

“Good evening,” he replied. “What are you doing down here? Your shift is over.”

“Connor asked me to put this away,” you explained, holding up the folder.

He tilted his head a fraction. “Interesting.”

“It is?” you said, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Yes. Because he asked me to put this away.” He showed you a folder of his own.

Heat flooded your face as you realised the two of you had been set up, and you wondered what Connor could possibly hope to achieve.

“Oh,” you said.

“Yes.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen Nines look awkward. It was…interesting.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, then you gestured with your folder.

“I’ll just…”

You walked past him, shoulders hunched in the universal sign for ‘sorry I’m in your way even though I’m not really’, and found the correct file cabinet. By the sounds of it, Nines was doing the same.

Job done, you headed back to the elevator. You pressed the button for the main floor, surprised when Nines entered with you. You’d just assumed he’d take the stairs, since you were only using the elevator because it had been a long, tiring day.

His tall, looming presence made the boxy space feel even smaller, and you bit your lip, wondering if you should attempt small talk.

The elevator came to a juddering halt, and you yelped as you were plunged into darkness before the emergency lights came on, bathing you both in eerie red.

“What the…?”

“Stay calm,” Nines instructed, although you weren’t panicked, just surprised. “I’m calling for help.”

You watched as he communicated silently with someone, his LED blinking. He looked even more intimidating in shades of scarlet, the lights casting deep shadows on the planes of his face. Not that you felt intimidated exactly; it was just something you observed.

You waited as patiently as you could, eyeing the now-blank display above the doors. When Nines finally moved, you glanced at him, taking in the disgruntled expression on his face.

“What’s going on?”

“The power’s out,” he informed you. “I could only get through to Connor, he’s on his way back. He said he’ll update me as to what’s happening, but for now we just have to wait.”

You sighed, suddenly feeling a conflicting mixture of tired and tense. You should have just taken the damn stairs! Now it could be hours before you were able to get home. At least you weren’t claustrophobic, although the sensation of being trapped was making you a little uneasy. Being trapped specifically with Nines – your secret crush – was only adding to your unease. You felt too awkward to handle it well, you were bound to say something stupid, highlight exactly why androids were superior to humans.

The elevator felt stuffy, although whether that was just in your head or an effect of the air con now being off, you weren’t sure. You sat down on the floor, back against a wall, and Nines looked down at you for a moment before mirroring your pose on the opposite side. He didn’t need to sit, so he was clearly just doing it to make you feel more comfortable. That was a nice gesture.

The first half hour dragged. You sat in silence, unsure what to say, and Nines didn’t venture anything either. He had to be impatient, possibly more so than you, but you couldn’t tell looking at him. His expression was placid, grey eyes strangely pale in the red light. He sat with his feet flat on the floor, knees bent, arms resting on them in a pose that was oddly casual for him. You assumed he was mimicking humans he’d seen.

You tried hard not to stare at him, but since he was the only interesting thing in the elevator, you didn’t succeed much. Your gaze kept creeping to him, only for you to guiltily snatch it back. A few times, you switched position, partly because the floor wasn’t the best seat in the world, partly to busy yourself for a few seconds. When the room got warm without the air con, you started to unbutton your shirt, thankful you had a tank top underneath.

Nines watched you, and you tried not to fidget under the heavy weight of his stare.

“It’s hot,” you mumbled by way of explanation.

He didn’t respond, most likely not considering it necessary.

A few awkward moments slipped by, and you dropped the shirt next to you, glad to feel some air on your bare arms.

“Why do I make you uncomfortable?” Nines spoke up out of the blue.

You frowned at him in surprise. “You don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I…” You trailed off, your protest dying on your tongue. You’d been about to say that you weren’t lying, which would have been another lie, but that was so much easier to say than the truth.

“Well, it’s because I have a gigantic crush on you, but until recently, you barely knew who I was, much less cared, and I wish I could just stop, but every time I see you I just want to climb you like a tree, and so being stuck in a small room with you is putting me on edge.”

Yeah, no. Best leave that unsaid.

“You realise I was built to be intimidating,” he added. “It’s not something I can help.”

“No, I know,” you answered, picking at a thread on your pants. “And you’re not. At least, I don’t find you intimidating. It’s…um…I just…I’m just really tired. I was looking forward to getting home.”

“What did I say about lying?” he snapped, tone accusing.

“I’m not lying, I really don’t see you that way!” you protested.

“Your reactions indicate otherwise,” he argued. “When I’m near you, you become restless, agitated. Your pupils dilate, your breathing rate increases. All signs of fear.”

And arousal, you added silently, trying not to panic as your reactions were picked apart. Did he really not realise what was happening? He was the most advanced android ever created, which meant that he must know what else those signs could mean. Could it be that he just didn’t consider it a possibility?

Your heart twisted at the implications of that. He clearly took on the weight of his daunting presence and the ways it could affect his day-to-day life, but did that mean he thought that everyone was afraid of him? Did it mean that he didn’t believe that someone could be attracted to him?

A sudden stray thought struck you, making your eyes widen. Was he, perhaps…lonely?

That was a lot to unpack, and your need to keep your feelings to yourself was suddenly warring with your need to reassure him.

“Nines, I…” you began, unsure where you were going with it. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He looked unconvinced, and you rushed to continue.

“Actually, I…I like you.”

His eyes were steady on you, boring through you, trying to get to the heart and truth of you. You swallowed and looked away, scrambling awkwardly to your feet as you gave in to your sudden need to move. As soon as he did the same, you regretted the decision, since he was taller than you. Sitting had equalled things between you to an extent. Now that he was looming over you once again, you struggled to find your words.

“I…I know you don’t feel the same,” you said, holding up a hand as you assured him that you had no expectations. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t. “I just…I just want you know that not all of us find you scary, okay? And if you need to talk to someone, I’m here. I want to be your friend. I…don’t even know if that’s something you need or even want, but the offer stands. Just…just remember that.”

He stared at you for long seconds, face blank. That wasn’t unusual for him, but you wished he’d show at least something of what he was thinking.

“I can’t be your friend,” he said eventually.

Your heart sank, and you bit your lip as anxiety washed through you.

“Okay,” you said, doing your best to react the right way and not let the disappointment seep in. You should have known better than to expect an android of his advanced skills to need a human like you.

“Don’t you want to know why?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t think there’s any point in–”

“It’s because each of my thoughts about you are improper,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence.

You froze, wide-eyed, trying to figure out exactly what he was saying. Your Nines translation meter must be slightly off, because it just wasn’t making sense.

“I can’t be your friend,” he went on. “It wouldn’t be right. I’d always want more, and I will not put you in a position where I demand more than you want to give.”

You were hearing his words, spoken in English, a language you definitely did understand, but their meaning just didn’t register. They were so at odds with his stoic expression.

“Wh…what?” you stuttered.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You winced at the harsh words, but then realised that they were a touch defensive. Nines was feeling vulnerable. Because of you. How was that even possible?

“You…like me?” you ventured cautiously. “As…more than a friend?”

“I believe that’s what I just said, yes.”

“But you…why didn’t you…? Why didn’t you say something?” You gasped, remembering that you knew exactly why. “Shit, you really did think I was afraid of you, didn’t you?”

“Aren’t you?” he threw out.

“No! No, you… Fuck! For a man with a fucking supercomputer for a brain, you’re so dense!” you said between near-hysterical giggles.

He tilted his head, looking a little affronted, and you laughed harder.

“I’m sorry,” you wheezed. “I’m sorry, it’s just… Do you have any idea how long I’ve pined for you? Nines… I wasn’t afraid of you. I was attracted to you.”

His eyes widened a touch, and his LED whirred. “That…” he said after a moment’s thought, the words carefully considered, “…would make sense.”

You stifled another laugh. You didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him, it was just the whole bizarre situation in general.

“So now what?” you asked.

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, crowding you against the wall with very little effort.

In a deceptively soft tone that sent shivers through your body, he said, “I believe a kiss would be appropriate. If you consent to that."

You swallowed hard, nodding, your gaze inevitably pulled to his mouth. He bent his head, you lifted your chin to meet him, and your lips met.

You’d imagined it dozens of times, but you had no idea what to actually expect. In light of your most recent conversation, you wondered if you were his first kiss, but if you were, you couldn’t tell. He knew what he was doing, his lips cool and pliant against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth with exploratory precision. A soft groan rumbled low in his throat, and you shivered. You’d suddenly thought of a much better way of passing the time.

You pulled back from the kiss, breathing hard, your eyes locked with his.

“Can I…?” you began.

“Anything,” he said.

You pushed him back half a step, then sank to your knees. You were starting to recognise micro-expressions in his stoic look, and you caught the brief flicker of surprise, and then the desire that followed it. Had you just been blind, or was he just giving you a chance to read him finally? Either way, it was gratifying to see.

You undid his belt and the fastenings on his dark jeans, taken aback to find yourself staring at pale skin rather than the underwear you’d expected.

“Shit. Have you been commando all this time?” you blurted out.

“What do I need underwear for?” he said validly.

“That’s hot,” you murmured, easing him out of his jeans.

Nines sighed as you touched him, stiffening and growing in your hand exactly as a human would. You gave him a few slow pumps, gauging the size and weight of him, feeling the softness of his skin, the surprising warmth beneath it. He had no scent that you could detect, and you playfully licked at the tip, grinning when he jerked and moaned above you. You took that sensitive part of him in your mouth, sucking gently, massaging the rest with your hands.

He moaned again, hips twitching in a very human-like way, plainly indicating what he wanted. You sucked a little harder, then ran the flat of your tongue across the underside before pulling back. You didn’t miss the way he leaned forward, chasing your mouth, and you felt your clit throb.

“Fuck my mouth,” you said, sitting back on your heels to look up at him.

He’d braced one arm against the wall, his rebellious lock of hair falling forward as he cast a shadow over you. His lips were parted as he drew air into his systems, and his eyes were heavy-lidded. And you’d barely started.

“Are you sure?” he asked you. “Once I start I don’t think I’m able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” you said simply.

His eyes took on a look of determination, and you felt a thrill of adrenaline. His free hand slid into your hair and held your head still, and you felt yourself grow wetter.

“Open for me,” he ordered, and you almost whimpered at how many different ways you could take that.

You obligingly opened your mouth, and he slid back in, plunging deeper than you’d allowed before. You relaxed your jaw, taking as much of him as you could, already knowing that he’d have to make do with the limitations. It was fortunate that you were pretty good at controlling your gag reflex, since you wanted to feel him at the back of your throat.

He started to thrust, and you immediately picked up on both his desperation and his control over it. It told you that he wasn’t going to hurt you, even accidentally, and you relaxed even further. You let him do what he wanted for the first few minutes, then let your hands and tongue come into play, teasing and caressing where you could until he was panting hard above you.

“Fuck!” he grunted, and you inwardly grinned. You’d never seen him so animated, so unguarded, and you had a feeling you could easily become addicted to it.

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, needing to hear him come apart. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling, but it was a dull pain. You liked knowing what you did to him.

“I’m…I’m going to…” he said, sounding thoroughly wrecked. You’d never heard him sound anything but calm and collected. The fact that he was tripping over his words now excited you. “Can I…?”

You freed a hand to curl your fingers into the ‘okay’ symbol, letting him know it was alright. It was more than alright.

With a harsh cry and a jolt, he came. Your throat was coated with synthetic cum, and you swallowed it, surprised by its heady, bittersweet flavour. Something familiar that you couldn’t immediately identify in your distracted horny state. Then it hit you: dark chocolate. He fucking tasted like dark chocolate.

You had so many questions for CyberLife.

You let him slip from your mouth, wiping the drool from your chin before he could see how undignified you were. Then, since he seemed to be dazed, you helpfully tucked him away and zipped his jeans, buckling his belt in place. It was only as you struggled to stand up on stiff legs that he snapped out of it, gripping your upper arms and helping you up. He pressed you against the wall, mouth on yours in a fierce kiss. You wondered if he could taste himself.

You intended to ask him how it had been for him, but you didn’t get the chance. No sooner had you broken apart, when he sent you a predatory look that rendered you speechless, and said firmly, “My turn.”

He got to his knees, hands working on your bottom layers before you had a moment to catch your breath. He looked up at you when he saw how damp your underwear was, and you shrugged, a little embarrassed.

“I told you,” you muttered defensively.

He actually laughed, just a brief chuckle, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it.

Your smile turned to a gasp as he explored your wet folds with his fingers, parting them before bringing his tongue into the mix. You had no idea if this was new to him too, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them expertly and brushing against your G-spot, making you moan his name.

“Fuck, Nines!”

Your hands found his hair, fingers drifting through the silky strands. Making him come had turned you on so much, you didn’t think you were going to last long. Not if he kept being as dextrous with his tongue as he was with his fingers.

Oh god, his tongue. You were going to have recurring dreams about his tongue, you could already tell.

“I need you,” you whimpered. “I need you, I need you.”

It had mostly been an outpouring of feeling for you, but Nines seemed affected by it too, his LED spinning yellow. His fingers pumped faster and harder, and he closed his mouth around you, sucking on your clit, playing with it with his tongue.

“Oh fuck!”

He kept you at such a constant level of pleasure, your orgasm took you by surprise. You cried out as you came, bucking against his face as he worked you through it. He drew it out exquisitely, leaving you convulsing against the wall for what felt like an eternity, his tongue lazily sweeping over and over your sensitive flesh until you had to beg him to stop.

When he stood, cupping the lower half of his face to wipe the excess slick away, you watched him with dazed eyes, and as you’d done for him, he helped you redress. You had so many things you wanted to talk to him about, about how he thought of himself, about why he hadn’t believed that you cared, but you weren’t sure how to begin.

“Connor saw it,” Nines said, seeming to sense the topic you were stuck on. “What was between us.”

You nodded. “That’s why he sent us to the archive. He must have hoped we’d talk if we…” You trailed off, eyes widening. “Oh shit! Did he trap us in here?”

Nines frowned, his LED immediately flickering yellow.

“It was him,” he confirmed after a short, silent conversation. “I told him to get us moving again.”

“That sneaky little bastard!” you exclaimed, although you were too blissed out to be angry. Besides, his stupid plan had worked.

“He saw that you cared for me,” Nines surmised. “And he saw that I was fascinated by you. When that gunman was in reception today, I…I was struck with the possibility of you being hurt, and it was…difficult to deal with. I think Connor must have seen my struggles.”

“I didn’t like seeing you hurt either. You were shot.”

“I was repaired,” he assured you. “I had to act quickly, to protect you.”

You stared at him, unsure how to respond to such a declaration. You squinted as the lights came back on, the elevator jolting into movement once again, and you shelved it all for later.

“Want to come home with me?” you asked. You needed to feel him inside you, but not in a crappy DPD elevator.

Nines managed a small smile and nodded. “On one condition. When Connor meets us outside the elevator doors, where he’ll inevitably be, we pretend that nothing happened.”

Your lips curved into a sly grin. “Deal.”

One day soon, you’d let Connor know his efforts hadn’t been in vain, but in the meantime, you’d punish him for trapping you.

It felt good, having Nines as a co-conspirator, and it took a lot of effort for you to walk out of the elevator like nothing had changed. It was harder still not to laugh at Connor’s annoyed expression. Much later, after Nines had almost fucked you into a coma, you reflected that maybe you forgave Connor just a little bit.

125 notes View Post

nottellingofname

8 months ago

stunning handsome loml

37 notes View Post

nottellingofname

2 years ago

I love an independent, strong reader.

𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚

pairing: businessman!bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: modern au. infidelity {bucky is having an affair}, alcohol use, drug mention {not an action, used as a metaphor} explicit sexual content. full of angst.

prompt: i’m not the only one by sam smith

writer’s note: this is for my sugarplum, @samthemarvelfan’s writing challenge. thank you so much for hosting love, and for being so gracious when i mentioned my entry would be a bit late. i absolutely adore you, and i hope you enjoy this xx

dividers are by @/firefly-graphics

eighteen plus only — by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.

Lillies.

Delicate, soft — sensitive to your nose as you welcome him home.

Red was the colour of his cheeks; scrubbed vigorously and void of the remnants lipstick would have left — too bad he missed the spot on his collar.

Like always, you washed it clean; bleach, detergent, softener. You’d perfected the method.

Touches remained the same; gentle hands and ardent kisses. As though an apology was spilling from his tongue.

Open wounds of the heart were treated with quick fixes — no bandaids were required when the alcohol swallowed would numb the pain.

Tears were easy to deny, searing your skin each night as you turned; back facing his while enduring another restless slumber.

Mornings were safe, the adoring moments spent together before he walked out the door. A time you could pretend everything remained as it once was — out of sight, out of mind.

For now, it was enough.

The feeling of his love was always sincere; three simple words calming the withering storm.

Vows had been shared, an oath declared.

Yet, sometimes you wonder if he ever really gave you his heart. Lord knows he kept yours.

“How did it go?” You ask, perched on the end of your shared bed as he changes into a sweatshirt. He’d already taken a shower; washing away the deceit.

“Was okay,” he replies as he walks over, slotting himself between your thighs. “The merger is almost over.”

Purring, you tuck your hands under his shirt and rub them soothingly; comforting as a line forms between his brows. “Are you ready for that?”

And he smiles, the same one that made you fall in love all those years ago; crinkled eyes and dimples barely visible beneath the stubble.

“Means I get more time with you.” He leans forward, mouth brushing yours.

“What’re you doin’, Buck?” The question ends onset a giggle; voice light and airy as he trails kisses down your neck.

“Mm, missed you.” He pushes forward, moving you to the centre of the bed as you fall on your back. “‘S been too long since you’ve been under me, bun.”

The nickname fills you with an adorning nostalgia, lacing your veins like a well-sought drug; embracing the intoxication after being without it for so long.

Bucky pulls your legs apart, fingers dancing over the slickening centre of your underwear. “So pretty for me, baby.”

Baby.

There’s something detached in the endearment; a distant memory of conversation as he laughed about it’s lack of originality — seemingly unimportant.

“Maybe not tonight, Buck.” You try your best to act indifferent; swallowing the lump that lodges itself in your throat. “I don’t feel too well.”

He watches you closely for a moment, confusion crossing his features as something unknown festers. “That’s okay,” he promises; pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

The blankets are warm, familiar as they cover you both. A part of you wants space — distance between you both as you try to shake the nausea.

Except, he wraps his arms around your frame; pulling you into his chest tightly. “I love you, bun.”

Fingers intertwining, you bring them to your mouth as you kiss softly; settling into his body as you beg for a sense of normalcy. “I love you too.”

The house is quiet for a Saturday morning.

Usually, you awoke to the sound of a pan sizzling; Bucky whistling along to whatever song was playing on the radio.

There’s a note by the coffee pot, a simple;

had to go into the office, be home by 5 xx

You wonder how long you can keep fooling yourself into believing him. How many more trips away, prolonged contracts and late night phone calls could you take?

A fire threatens to start; burning with frustration as you wonder where he is, who he’s with. That’s the worst part, you suppose, not knowing what was worth the destruction of your marriage.

Because how do you fix something you hadn’t known was broken? Not until you’d cut yourself on the fragments of his lies — the shattered promises.

An answer finds you later, as Bucky walks through the door with flowers hidden behind his back. An apology spewed like salt to your open wounds.

“It’s okay.” It isn’t.

He washes away the sour taste on your tongue with sweet words; gripping your chin as mouths meet for a passionate kiss.

Dusk was approaching, the sky illuminating golden hues across his features; warmth radiated from his touch, a tease to the cold that had seeped into your pores.

“You’re so beautiful,” he compliments; pushing you against the wall as he bunches your skirt at the waist. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, bun.”

Something twists in your gut at the words. “You were a good man.” The past tense goes ignored. “Couldn’t stop myself from falling for you.”

He takes advantage of it, smiling against your lips. “It’s been so long since I’ve had you, darlin’. Need to taste you, want to feel you come undone beneath me.”

And unlike the other night, you embraced his hold on you; pushing forward as you feel him pulse beneath his slacks.

Bucky takes you apart in a way only he knows how; playing with the lines of your body the way he does the strings of your heart. Tugging and pulling — all consuming as he swallows your cries.

You don’t know where he begins and where you end, but the feeling of him inside of you; full and thick, has you begging for more.

It’s always fervent; hot and heavy as he moulds your body to his. Bucky could ruin you, over and over again, until there was nothing left. And still, you’d give him more. Every last bit of you — maybe that way, he wouldn’t stray. Wouldn’t need the reason to.

“Let go for me, bun.” His voice is molasses, heady in tone as he pleads for you to come. “Show me how much you’ve missed me, show me how you need me.”

With bitten lips and heated cheeks, you fold to his command; sobbing his name like it was holy — a prayer on your tongue as you worship his touch.

The feeling of warmth spreads through your loins as he releases inside of you; seed dripping from your entrance as he whispers his love against your mouth.

Moonlight reflects in his eyes as you reconcile. Sweat slicked foreheads pressed against each other’s as his fingers flutter along the curve of your spine.

A part of you wonders if this is his own reprieve, a selfish exoneration from his crimes as his duplicit heart beats against your ear.

Sleep finds him easy, as though he had nothing to fret come the morning. Although something tells you, you wouldn’t be as fortunate.

“I saw them together.”

The words ring like ultrasonic waves, stinging your senses as you try to not coil away from Sharon’s sensitive touch.

“No.” Denial is easy, normal. “You’re wrong, I’m sure it isn’t what you’re thinking.”

Her approach is timid, as though she were approaching a scared, lonely fawn. “Bucky’s having an affair.”

“He wouldn’t.” Your voice breaks; the ring around your finger constricting.

“I know you love him,” she says. “But you deserve better than someone who would hurt you like this.”

“And you’re sure? That it’s her?”

Sharon leaves you with a photo, evidence of the one confrontation you never wanted to meet.

They’re close, his lips on her neck as a small smile plays on hers. Bucky’s hands are wrapped around her waist; close and intimate, in a way that only a lover’s would.

You hover the delete button, a potential threat removed, if you choose.

The sound of heavy footsteps distract you, Bucky’s call of your name making you lock the device before he can see it.

“There you are, bun.” He grins, arms outstretched as he pulls you in for a hug. “I was callin’ out for you, did Sharon stop by?”

This was the opportunity, maybe if he confessed, you could work on moving forward — together. “She was out by Morningside today.” Bucky tenses, humming quietly. “Weren’t you out that way too?”

Silence stretches in the air, and you hear his sharp intake of breath as your throat begins to swell. You step back to look into his eyes, waiting for his admittance.

“Actually I was out by Riverside, Sam wanted to have lunch there.”

Water burns your irises, a bitter smile on your face as you watch his brows furrow, bottom lip twitching as he gives it away. “Really?” You indulge him, wondering if he’ll take the bait.

A quick kiss is gifted, palms wiped down against the same brown coat you saw in the photo. “Yeah,” he agrees; subject changing quickly as he searches for a bottle of water in the fridge.

“Buck?” Your tone is light, treading carefully as he turns around. “C’mere.”

Surprises flashes across his features, and you wonder if he knows — that you know.

Time is your ally, and you bide it deliberately as your hands brush over his pristine buttons. “Get on your knees.”

He abides swiftly; pushing your panties to the side as your dress is removed. Your hands tug on his locks, guiding him toward your centre as he moves your leg over his shoulder.

Bucky never tires of the way you taste; saccharine on his tongue with slight zest. It’s addicting, and he treats it as such; swallowing down your nectar as you grind against him, beard burning your inner thighs as he tries for your forgiveness.

Fingernails dig into the flesh of your ass, encouraging your movements as your whines reach their peak; pouring slick into his mouth as you fall apart.

Huffing breaths fill the room, and you seperate yourself on shaky legs. You feel his hand reach out for yours, but you move away without a glance; picking up your dress and leaving him to deal with the mess.

There’s a hand on the middle of your back, guiding you through the restaurant.

Bucky’s been extra attentive, showering you with quality time and affirming words. It was enough for you to try — you’d been together for nearly ten years, and you couldn’t find it in you to give that up for something you weren’t sure existed anymore. A lapse in judgement.

But then, you see purple.

It’s striking against the red; complimentary tones as her eyes dazzle like emeralds among the candlelight.

“You remember Natasha?” Bucky introduces you to the table, vision focused on you. “My assistant.”

“Of course.” You smile politely at her, the younger woman who tries her best to not waver under your stare. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Natasha stutters, gaze flickering from Bucky to yours. “You too, Mrs. Barnes.”

The dinner is quick, barely any fuss as you catch up with those you know — Sam, Steve, Tony. All familiar faces who seemingly sense the underlying tension between the three of you who sit together.

With a peck to Bucky’s cheek, you make your way to the restroom in dire need of a moment alone. Closing your eyes for a second, you inhale deeply before washing your hands, only a small moment to yourself as your hear the door open.

“Sorry,” Natasha says; moving next to you by one of the sinks. “Just thought I’d clean up.”

The shiny silver on her wrist catches your attention, a single charm hanging off it that makes your stomach churn.

“My husband bought me one like that when we were first dating,” you tell her. “I was so enamoured with him, you know? Which is why falling in love was so easy.”

She looks down, thumb brushing over the bracelet.

You continue, “Bucky is charming, enigmatic and he’s a good man.”

“He’s been very determined with this deal.” Natasha nods, jaw clenching as she avoids your eyes.

“Yes, he has.” You dry your hands, leaving her with one last thought. “But sometimes, he becomes addicted to the chase. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

By the time you reach the table, Bucky is standing with an affectionate smile. “You good, bun?”

Taking his hand in yours, you return his gesture. “Let’s go home.”

It feels like your head is finally above water; floating amongst the calm as Bucky lays beside you, basking in the sunlight that glows.

Everything feels right, the Earth on it’s axis as balance restores your relationship once more.

The bliss is ignorance, falling back into old habits as he declares his love for you. Future plans of beginning a family are made. And you almost let yourself feel the relief you’ve been so desperately seeking.

“We are not naming our child Galadriel,” you giggle; baby book in hand as you both lay in bed.

Bucky pouts, “At least it’s different!”

Kissing his lips, you murmur, “You’re so adorable when you’re all geeked out.”

“And you, are so sexy when you’re talking about our kid.” Bucky grins, taking the book from you before placing it on the bedside table.

“Mm, what’re you sayin’, Buck?” The question is a courtesy when you already know the answer. Your legs wrap around his waist, already removing the clothes that cover your bodies.

“Wanna start a family with you, bun.” His tone is so earnest, it makes you forget the worries that plague your mind.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“‘S all I want, darlin’.” The tip of his hard length nudges your opening, coating himself in your slick. “You, me, and our little family we’ll make together.”

The test is negative.

Because you should’ve known the perceived perfection was a mirage.

The singular line a forewarning for what comes next.

I’m sorry.

Attached to Steve’s text message is a photo — of them; hands clasped together tightly as they sit on a park bench, foreheads pressed together as their lips are mid speech.

You feel foolish for letting yourself get swept up in the hurricane of Bucky’s love. How swiftly it cocoons you — devours you — destroys you. Leaving nothing but the scattered debris of your heart behind.

Strength isn’t always visible, loud, obvious.

It doesn’t need to be prideful.

Yours comes in many layers — empathy, second chances, understanding, reflection. It’s more than physicality. Worth decades of experience, of learning.

That’s why you stand tall as Bucky shouts, veins pulsing with anger as he pulls at his hair.

“You’re crazy!” He yells. “I wouldn’t do that to you!”

The dichotomy of his arguments is almost terrifying — one of a man you don’t recognise, and one of the man you loved.

Still, you’re passive in your approach. The images are louder than his roaring, and you can see as he deflates; expression crumbling under the proof.

“It meant nothin’.” His hands shake as they hold onto your face; tremors befalling your frame. “But you, darlin’ you are everything.”

Venom spits at him with every word that leaves your mouth. “How could you ruin everything for something that was nothing?”

“I fucked up, I know.” Bucky’s thumb finds solace in the dip of your chin. “It was a mistake, somethin’ that went too far. But I promise, it was never anything serious.”

You laugh, unable to decipher whether he believes himself. “She’s in love with you.”

“I don’t care.” The words sting, even though they shouldn’t, because you have no loyalty to Natasha. But there’s something in the way he writes her off, like she truly meant so little that it makes you feel sick for her.

“Who are you?” You mumble, pushing him away as you massage your temples.

Bucky tries a different approach — more delicate this time as he presses his chest to your back. “I’m still the same man you fell in love with. Please, bun. Let me prove it to you.”

Perhaps your weakness, came in the way you yielded to him, if only for a few hours more. The release of your frustration, of the hurt and pain — the endurance of a broken marriage that you’d tried to fix on your own.

It’s rushed, anguished; the build up of emotions that can only be released in the space between your bodies. Kisses are bruising and mean, touches are harsh and contused.

He sears your skin like an iron, permanently etched into your flesh with his mark. One that will be scoured raw, and with time, that you’ll be rid of.

Bucky wakes up to a cold bed, your side empty as he stretches. He searches for you, softly calling your name, only to be greeted by the quiet.

Rolling over, he smiles to himself as the lingering Gardenia scent of your perfume fills his nostrils. Lulling him to serenity as he begins his day.

It’s not until he reaches the kitchen, does he see the ring — next to a manila folder, with a note addressed to him.

James,

I have loved you, for so many years. And while I thought that would be enough for you, I’ve come to recognise that it’ll never be.

You’ve made me realise my deepest fears; breaking our vows, and my heart in the process.

Everything I thought I knew about you was a lie, and for that, I can never forgive you.

It’s over. We’re done.

I just hope it was worth it, and that one day, you’ll make peace with yourself the same way I have.

Goodbye.

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