Addicted

Pairing: Ragnar Lothbrok (Vikings) x Reader

Genre: smut  |  Word Count:2,525

Summary: There was something Ragnar and his wife loved more than raiding together: fucking in looted lands.

Warnings: unprotected sex, blood, mentions of raiding, mentions of looting, mentions of physical combat, sex on holy ground.

Author’s Note: You guys know that I don’t see grays when I like something. I either don’t like it or like it enough to become obsessed. Like all of my obsessions, this started with looking frantically for smutty fanfics, it then progressed to dreaming erotically of him, and finally to writing smut of him. This is loosely based on the wet dream I had a few weeks ago. I hope you enjoy my new obsession. Feedback warms my heart <3

[Masterlist]

[Ragnar Lothbrok Masterlist]

The first time Ragnar went raiding was without you. And you were pissed. Raiding was something you loved to do, and though he’d assured you it had nothing to do with your ability, it still pissed you off that he had wanted you to stay home to take care of the kids. You loved being a mother, but that didn’t mean you had stopped being a shield-maiden. But he was right. Though you knew you could trust the women of the community to take care of your children, you didn’t want to leave them behind. And you knew Ragnar didn’t want you to come in case this land didn’t really exist.

It had been weeks since Ragnar left, and your body was already aching for him. You missed his scent, the weight of his body on top of you, the way his muscles would ripple under the soft touch of your fingertips. To say you were addicted to him was an understatement. And Ragnar was as addicted to you as you were to him, maybe even more.

Ragnar bringing that Christian priest came as a surprise to you back then, but now that Ragnar was planning to go raiding again, you saw just how useful he could be. Your eyes lit up when your husband asked you to go with him.

‘I need you there with me, like in the old times,’ he’d said with a smile on his face while he pulled you closer to him by the waist. He brought his face down to your ear: ‘I miss the rush of adrenaline of fucking you in foreign places…like in the old times.’ He ran the tip of his nose along your jaw all the way to your chin, and he placed a chaste, innocent kiss on your lips.

The contrast of his raunchy words to his innocent actions always caught you off guard, and it always sent waves of arousal to your core.

The night before the journey he fucked you nice and slow, peppering kisses all over your face and neck. He’d whisper sweet nothings into your ear, and when you came, he came with you. It was like that with Ragnar. Sweet love making was something he liked too, despite all the raw sexual energy he gave off.

You could feel the surge of excitement running in your veins when you saw land ahead of you. A wide smile spread across your lips; the hunger of raiding danced in your eyes. Ragnar approached you and placed his hand on your waist, bringing you closer to him.

“Do you see that?” His velvety voice resonated in your ear. “This is what I brought you for. I missed that hunger in your eyes, that greed.”

You looked up at him, and the hunger for raiding got mixed with hunger for him. You had missed fucking him in foreign places as well. The adrenaline was intoxicating…and addicting.

You placed your right hand upon his chest and lifted yourself up on your tiptoes so that your mouth was brushing against his. “I hope you’re ready,” you said before placing a brief kiss upon his lips. You jumped out of the boat quickly, leaving him with the taste of your lips on his and with a semi hard-on. He thanked the gods his chainmail coat reached mid-thigh.

It was everything you’d imagined and more. The town was small, but the treasures its temples held were grand. This time the people knew you were all coming, because they welcomed you with arrows and fire. But even though they’d been prepared, it was so easy to knock down the gate and enter the town. The excitement and adrenaline you felt was something you’d missed. You hadn’t truly realized just how much you’d miss them until you felt them coursing through your veins. The electricity surging through your body, from head to toe, kept you going, and you felt more powerful than ever. You felt invincible.

You entered what seemed to be the biggest room in the whole town. Just looking at it from the outside you knew it held great riches inside. The walls of the façade were even adorned with gold and silver, but these were embedded into the stone and to take them out would take great effort and time. And time was exactly what you didn’t have.

The place was empty and large. There was a large window at the back of it, where a small table was. On top of it was a big cross made of gold. The three upper arms had red stones embedded in them. The cross sat in the middle of the table, and in front of it there was a silver cup. Four small silver candle holders were placed evenly on either side of the cross, adorning it. Next to the walls were larger candle holders, all silver. And hanging low from the ceiling, there were golden chandeliers which held yet more silver candle holders.

Your eyes lit up as a wide smile spread across your face at all the riches these people had. You set the fishing net on the floor and began bringing all the silver and gold items you could gather into it. You pranced around the room excitedly; the smile on your face only growing wider. If all these riches were found on this place alone, what other treasures did these people keep?

You drew you sword from its holster on your back when you heard the gates being opened. But you immediately relaxed when you saw your husband entering the room, putting your sword back in place. A mischievous smile appeared on his perfect face upon seeing what you’d been hoarding. He had that look in his eyes, hunger dancing in the blue of his eyes; hunger for you. He was covered in blood, which completed his animalistic look. You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you began to ache for him. The thought of fucking in a place that was considered holy to these people was incredibly arousing to you. And judging by the way Ragnar looked at you, it was to him too.

“Look what I found,” he said and brought a small crown from behind his back. It was a golden crown, with red stones embedded in each peak, and small diamonds adorning the base of it. It wasn’t big enough to fit a man’s head, so you assumed it had been made to fit a woman’s head.

He’d reached you at the altar, where only the cross now stood. He dangled the headpiece in front of your eyes, and he chuckled at the glint dancing in them.

“It’s beautiful,” you said as you took it in your hands. You turned it over in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the smoothness of its surface. You were fascinated by how beautifully crafted it was. Every stone had been put carefully and evenly, and the metal was wonderfully polished.

Ragnar took it gently away from your hands and placed it carefully on top of your head. It sat perfectly, almost as if it had been made specifically for you. “It suits you, queen.” His words carried an underlying promise he wasn’t even aware of. A chill coursed through your body. It felt like fate.

“I’m the Christians’ queen now,” you mocked.

“No,” he said in a low voice while he brushed a strand of bloody hair away from your face. “You’re my queen.” He grabbed your face in both his hands and swooped his face down to kiss you. It took your breath away. Ragnar always managed to do so.

For a moment you were so caught off guard that you remained still, but when one of his hands made its way to the back of your head and nudged you gently into the kiss, you came back to reality. You placed your hands on his chest and glided them down his torso until they reached the hem of his chain mail. You snuck your hands underneath it and found the hem of his trousers. You unfastened his belt quickly, and just when you were about to grab his cock, he spun you around so that you were facing the altar. You placed your hands on the table in front of you and looked back at him over your shoulder. He snuck one hand to the front of your trousers and undid them while the other lifted your tunic up and placed it on your lower back. He pulled your trousers down to the middle of your thighs and he did the same with his own.

The sight that greeted him was wonderful. Your folds were glistening with your arousal. You craved him so badly that your juices reached the inside of your thighs. When you noticed him staring intently at your pussy, you spread your legs as far as your trousers allowed you to and bent over the table, pushing your ass out.

“Ragnar,” you mewled his name, and the needy tone of your voice made his cock twitch.

He grabbed the base of his cock and brushed the tip of it along your slit, covering himself in your slick. You moaned when he lingered on your clit. He applied more pressure on it and started brushing it faster and in tight circles. You bent further down over the table, pushing your ass back against his cock. You placed your forehead on the cold hard surface of the altar and moaned, the crown falling from your head. You were close. You could feel it approaching. You felt a chill running down your spine and your belly contracting, announcing your orgasm. But just when you were about to welcome it, Ragnar stopped.

He leaned forward, his left hand sneaking around your waist. He brought you up until your back was against his chest. He aligned his cock with your entrance using his free hand. His mouth placed chaste kisses on the side of your neck, below your ear, smearing the blood on your skin and on his lips.

“Your pleasure belongs to me,” he whispered in your ear and plunged inside you in one smooth, slow movement. You both let out a moan in unison.

You dropped you head and closed your eyes. Ragnar brought the hand that was across your waist up your torso to your chest, and just when he reached the base of your neck, he used his free hand to pull on your hair, bringing your head back and exposing your throat. You whimpered at the action; the mixture of the pain on your scalp and the pleasure inside your pussy making you smile.

He brushed the tips of his fingers tentatively along the length of your neck up to your chin and lips. He glided the pads of his index and middle fingers across your bottom lip before putting them inside your mouth gently. You wrapped your lips around his digits and suckled gently on them. Your tongue swirled in between them, making him hum in delight. His thrusts were slow and measured, but he’d bottom out every time he pushed in. He’d stay all the way inside for a few seconds and then pull almost all the way out again. He was driving you crazy.

He slid his fingers out of your mouth and wrapped them around your neck. As soon as his fingers applied pressure to the sides of your neck, he picked up his pace. He started pumping hard and fast into you. He pulled harder on your hair, bringing your head further backwards and causing your back to arch even more. One of your hands clamped down on the forearm of the hand around your throat, and the other reached forward in search of something to hold onto. It found the base of the golden cross. And the sight made Ragnar growl in satisfaction.

The filth it carried made him go harder into you. Here you were, not only had you looted Christian lands, but also you’d desecrated their holy temples by fucking in them, by hanging onto their holy cross for dear life while you were being railed into oblivion.

The thought snapped something inside Ragnar. He wanted you to cum and scream his name while still holding onto the cross. It was plain filthy to him, and he fucking loved it. He let go of your hair and, with that characteristic smirk of his spreading across his lips, he licked three of his fingers and brought them down to your clit. You whimpered when he started circling it with the right amount of pressure. The mixture of your slick and his spit worked perfectly as lube.

He kept pushing into you, grunting in your ear, and working wonders on your swollen clit. He felt you tense up, and when your cries increased in pitch, he knew you were on the verge of coming.

“I want to hear you cum,” he whispered in your ear. “I want this Christian god to hear you scream my name while you come undone on my cock.” And that was it.

You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you. Waves of pure ecstasy coursed through your entire body, and the grip you had on the base of the cross was so tight you swore you could’ve snapped it in half. Your whole body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

It was the filth of his words, the filth of the actions of both of you. The fact that you were desecrating this place in every way possible. It all added up to bringing you to your release. And it had been the most powerful orgasm you’d had in your life.

Ragnar followed suit right after. The way your cunt clenched around his cock made him spurt ropes of hot thick cum inside of you. The grunts in your ear became moans when he spilled his seed inside, and the tight grip on your neck loosened up. He brought the hand that was on your cunt up around your waist, and the hand on your neck joined it. He wrapped his arms tight around your torso while he rested his forehead on the back of your head. His cock was still pulsing inside you.

“I really missed this,” Ragnar said as he ran the tip of his nose along the back of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. You chuckled.

“I don’t recall having fucked in a Christian temple before.” It was his time to laugh.

He pulled out of you slowly, causing you both to moan. With his arms still around your waist, he nudged you to turn around in the circle of his arms.

“Well, there’s always a first time.”

You wound your arms around his neck and lifted yourself on your tiptoes till the tip of your nose brushed against his. “As long as it’s not the last.”

He was the one to seal your lips together, in a promise that more raids like this were indeed going to happen.

Pairing:Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Genre:Angst / Fluff  |  Word Count: 1,625

Summary:Reader feels lost, and she finds comfort in the arms of someone she didn’t expect.

Warnings:depression, suicidal thoughts, implied attempted suicide (very light, only if you squint real hard) 

Author’s Note: When I started writing this I was in a very bad place. I started wirting it because I felt exactly as reader feels in this fic. And this was my only outlet. Daydreaming as always. It helped a little fantasizing that my very own Bucky would comfort me in my darkest days, so I decided to share this with you all. I hope it helps those who need it, if only a little bit. You’re not alone. Don’t forget to reach out for help. Attempting against your life is never the answer, guys. You matter. You’re important and people do care. We don’t have to live through this alone. And I know it isn’t easy. And I know it can’t be cured with a fanfiction. I know.But knowing people care, sharing the way you feel with people you love and people who love you does help. It makes things easier, lighter. And if you ever need to talk to someone, you can always come to me. It gets better, guys. It really does. Stay safe. I love you all <3

Taglist:Taglists will be added in the reblog

[Masterlist]

[Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

Bucky could always tell if you’d cried yourself to sleep during the night. Your pretty eyes would be puffy and reddish the next morning. Your shoulders would hunch over, as if the weight you’d cried off the night before hadn’t left completely. You’d shuffle your feet across the floor. You’d look numb, weary. And he always knew that crying all alone in your bed at night had left you feeling worse than before.

“Hey, doll,” he greeted quietly when you entered the kitchen.

You lifted your face up to see him sitting on the stool across from the kitchen table. The sunlight that came from the window behind him shone on his bed hair, creating a halo around his head that made him glow.

“Hey, Buck.” You smiled weakly at him in an attempt to hide the fact that you’d cried the night before. But the smile, as weak as it had been, was real. Seeing him always made your heart feel less heavy and the weight over your shoulders dissipated for a little while.

You walked towards the stove that was behind him and filled the teapot with tap water before setting it onto the flame. You placed your hands on the edge of the counter and let your head fall forward. You let out a silent sigh, and prayed that the remnants of the tears shed last night weren’t noticeable to Bucky.

“Everything okay, doll?” he said behind you, tentatively.

You lifted your head up and turned to see him. He was looking at you worryingly, and he’d turned his whole body in your direction. He didn’t attempt to hide the scowl of concern on his face.

You attempted a smile, but it didn’t come out right. Everything was not fine. And you were dying to tell him just that. But you knew if you did, you’d crumble before him, and that was something you couldn’t afford. Looking weak in front of people wasn’t something you were very fond of.

“Yeah, Buck. Everything’s fine.” You shrugged your shoulders in a weak attempt to be nonchalant.

Bucky knew better, but he didn’t push.

He stood up from the stool and shortened the distance between you two in a few strides. He towered over you by a good 8 inches. His presence wasn’t intimidating. He didn’t make you nervous. He made you feel at peace. And you wondered what it’d be like to be wrapped up in his arms, if a hug from him would ease the pain in your chest and lift the weight off your shoulders.

He placed both hands upon your upper arms and said in the most soothing voice: “I’m here if you need me, doll.” He looked intently into your eyes, and you were trying so goddamn hard not to cry. “Always.” He smiled and squeezed your arms softly before letting you go and walking out of the kitchen.

And you knew and embrace from him would definitely help you ease the pain. And you found yourself longing to be held by Bucky Barnes.

-

It was taking a toll on you. You couldn’t focus on missions anymore. You were in a bad mood all the time. You’d snap at everyone for everything and anything, and all you wanted was to sleep. Sleep all day. Sleep and not worry about life anymore. You weren’t sure when, but you’d started to wish to never wake up.

But the world needed you. And you couldn’t afford sleeping all the time. You couldn’t afford being distracted during missions because you would not only jeopardize your life, but also your teammates’.

And it was too much. The weight of the world was upon your shoulder. The weight of being a good soldier, a good agent was upon your shoulders. The weight of everything was upon your shoulders. And the tears that you shed in your bed every night weren’t nearly enough to lift it all off. You were fading away and there was nothing you could do about it. And if there was, you didn’t care to find it.

-

“You could’ve gotten killed, Y/N!” Tony yelled as he paced back and forth across the carpeted living room floor. His right hand swiped along his hair, pushing it back and away from his face.

“Wouldn’t that had been delightful?” you said, trying so little to hide the fact that you didn’t care.

“What?” Tony stopped his pacing and stood in front of you. He couldn’t quite figure out if you were serious, and there were both anger and concern in his features.

You were all used to bottling things up. If you were sad or depressed or angry, you bottled it all up. There was no time for feelings. You all had more important things to do. You were looked up to. And people didn’t want to see sad agents. They wanted sparkly agents, happy avengers that would gladly give their life for them, as ungrateful as they were.

You sighed wearily and rolled your eyes as you stood up from the couch. “Nothing, Tony.” You patted his shoulder before walking past him towards the staircase.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” And the concern in his voice was noticeable, but god you didn’t have the energy to do this right now. You didn’t have the energy to do anything at all lately.

You stopped at the first step and turned your body in his direction. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m not allowed to not be okay.” You shrugged your shoulders and went upstairs, leaving him with dread hanging over his head.

-

It was too much. Everything was too much. The little things that used to bring you joy had ceased to be important to you. Being in combat, fighting the bad guys, kicking some hydra ass were things you utterly enjoyed. But that was gone too. You saw no light at the end of the tunnel. It kept getting darker and deeper, and your resilience was wearing thin. You were disappearing and nobody cared. Not even you.

The music in your ears was loud, and the tears flowed free down the sides of your face, disappearing into your hair. Music used to bring you peace of mind, and you were trying so desperately to find it again. You were trying desperately to cling to the remnants of life that could keep your feet grounded onto this world. And it wasn’t happening. Nothing worked anymore. Not even music. So what was the point on keep on living then? If nothing could bring you joy anymore? If nothing could spark a little bit of life into you? And the thought appeared in your mind in a flash, almost fleeting. And you held onto it. Onto your last hope. Your last resource.

It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? You had the means. You had the weapons. You had the knowledge so it would be as painless and quick as possible.

So why then were you taking so long? Why were your hands shaking? Why was all your body shaking? Why were there tears running madly down your face if this was what you wanted to do?

The gun felt heavy in your hand, and you dropped it as if it were scorching hot. And you ran. You stormed off your quarters and let your legs guide you to wherever they wanted to go. You let your heart guide you to the one place you knew you’d feel safe from your own thoughts; the one place you’d feel safe from yourself.

It was as if he’d sensed you’d come because he opened the door just when you were about to knock. And there he was, standing tall and broad and waiting.

He didn’t say a word, but you sensed he knew why you were standing on his doorstep, crying and shaking. He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t have to, because when he opened his arms, you stepped into them in a heartbeat, with no doubt in your mind that this was the place you needed to be at the most right now.

When his arms wrapped around you, it felt as if all the broken pieces of your shattered soul were being glued back together, back in place. It was as if he was absorbing all the bad thoughts and feelings that had been consuming you for months. And you held onto him. You held onto him as if your life depended on it. And it did in a way.

You sobbed into his shirt, leaving a damp spot on the fabric. He ran his right hand through your hair, soothing you, comforting you. He placed his right cheek on top of your head and brought you closer to his body when your sobs became cries. He never said a word, and he never urged you to stop crying.

“It’s gonna be okay, doll,” he whispered against the top of your head; his hands never ceasing to stroke your hair and back soothingly. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

And it was all you needed. Someone who cared. Someone who showed they cared. Someone who allowed you to live your feelings without trying to shut you down.

This was the light at the end of the tunnel. The spark of hope that you were so desperately looking for. And here it was, in the arms of a man who had always been there but you’d been too blind to see it.

Going back to normal wasn’t going to be easy, and you were aware of it. But knowing Bucky cared, knowing Bucky was there to pick you up, would make it less difficult. And it was worth staying for.

It was worth living for.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x  Female Reader

Genre: Angst / Smut  |  Word Count:3,891

Summary: Reader loves Bucky. And Bucky loves someone else. That’s how life works sometimes.

Warnings: unprotected sex, a lot of feels, unrequited love, people using people to forget about other people. 

Author’s Note: I’ve been listening to The Weeknd for three weeks now. His songs have sparked a lot of ideas for fanfics in my head of all sorts, but Call Out My Name made me land this fic idea. Can’t believe I’ve written Bucky again after nearly 2 years. I feel like I’m a litte rusty, but I hope you enjoy it anyways <3

Taglist:Tags will be added in the reblog.

[Masterlist]

[Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

The time on the clock sitting on the bedside table read 3:30 in the morning. The cold, empty spot on the bed beside you let you know Bucky had gotten up as soon as you’d fallen asleep. This had been going on for a month now, exactly since the day he ran into his ex-girlfriend.

He’d told you he didn’t have feelings for her anymore, that she was his past and you were his present. But his demeanor had changed ever since that day. It almost felt like he just fucked you to sleep so he could be alone with the thoughts of her. Your patience was wearing thin, but you loved him. And you’d convinced yourself that this was just a rough patch he was going through. It wouldn’t take long for him to go back to normal.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ you kept saying the words like a mantra, but every night he snuck out of the bedroom when you were sleeping it became harder and harder to believe it. To say you were scared was an understatement.

You loved him. If he loved you, you weren’t so sure anymore.

The night was hot despite the windows being open in Bucky’s room. The silky robe felt cool against your skin, creating a delicious contrast. You fastened the robe belt around your waist loosely and walked barefoot out of the room.

It wasn’t hard to find Bucky. This had become a routine. You’d always wake up around the same time and find his spot in the bed cold and empty. And you’d always find him sitting on the window sill in the living room, looking out in the empty streets of the city. He’d always have a glass of water with him, but by this time, you knew it wasn’t water. It’d never been.

You knew he was thinking of her. That much was clear. You could see the sadness in his eyes despite the small light that came from outside. He seemed to long for her. And you knew he missed her. She was still his present, and you just knew he wanted her to be his future, too. You were just a distraction, a façade.

All of it had been a lie from the very beginning and you felt stupid for not having realized before, for not having walked out of his life before your heart got too invested. But it was too late now. No matter whether you stayed or not, you’d be the only one left with a broken heart. So, why prolong the pain? Why prolong the inevitable? If neither of you were happy, there was no point in keeping this lie up. It had to end now.

“I can see the gears turning in that head of yours,” you said lightly. There was no need for this to end badly. There was no need to add more salt to the wound.

He turned his head in your direction, startled, and a small smile appeared on his face.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Well, not feeling you beside me did the trick. Like last night. And the night before.”

He lowered his gaze to the almost empty glass he held in his right hand, and his smile faltered. Guilt.

Your felt bad for saying those words. You didn’t really want to make him feel bad. You loved him. And he loved someone else. And that was okay. You couldn’t blame him for it. That’s how life worked, that’s how life has always worked. If people could choose who they loved, you definitely wouldn’t love someone who didn’t love you back.

You made your way to him in silence. Your bare feet only making a small sound against the tiled floor. You placed yourself in front of him, and when you tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, he looked up at you. His eyes were glassy, and you knew he had been crying over her.

You felt your heart sink in pain, for both you and him. Why weren’t you enough for him? Why was your love not enough for him to forget her and love youinstead?

And against your will, your eyes welled up with tears. And damn him, he noticed. Even in the darkness he noticed. This isn’t what you had planned.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” He grabbed the hand that had tucked away his hair and brought it to his mouth, placing a sweet kiss on your knuckles. And you choked back a sob. Why on earth did he have to do this harder than it was, with his sweetness and gentleness?

He worried when your body shook with sobs, and he got up, towering over you and embracing you in his arms. And you let him hold you. You knew you wouldn’t have this in the mornings to come.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and clung to him for dear life. You wanted him to feel the way you felt. You wanted him to feel all the love you had for him so he could finally understand, so he could loveyou with the same intensity. If only it was as easy as hug.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked as he ran his left hand over your hair while he held you tightly against his body with his right arm.

You felt safe in his arms, safer than you’d ever felt in other men’s arms. And you hated it. You hated that your haven relied on lies. You hated that your sense of safety was a complete fraud.

You wanted to scream, yell at him, punch him in the chest and run away. But instead, you choked out words that left him stunned: “Why can’t you love me?” Your voice was barely a whisper, but in the quiet night, he heard you perfectly. He heard you so loud and clear, it may as well have been a scream.

He stopped stroking your hair, shocked. Of all the things he could’ve thought you were going to say, he never, in a million years, would’ve thought you’d say the words that had just escaped your mouth.

He placed both his hands on your upper arms and pulled you away just enough to see your face. Your gaze was locked on the floor, and your body shook lightly with sobs. His eyes on you were intimidating, and you felt vulnerable. So you wrapped your arms around yourself on instinct in an attempt to feel somewhat protected.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” His voice was soft, and he started brushing your arms with his thumbs. “Talk to me, baby. What was that about?”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes tightly, and the tears that had pooled in them fell freely down your cheeks. You let out a loud sigh and opened your eyes before looking up at him. Your eyes were glassy and red-rimmed. Your face was stained with the tears that kept flowing from your eyes.

Something in his chest snapped, like a twig. He saw the pain in your face, the ache, the loss, the realization. He knew them all too well because that’s exactly what he felt because of someone else. You didn’t have to explain yourself anymore because, suddenly, he knew exactly what you’d meant before. The words that had escaped your lips were the exact same words that had escaped his a while ago, when someone else had broken his heart the way he was now breaking yours.

“Why am I not good enough for you, Bucky? Why is my love not enough for you to forget about her?”

“It is, baby. It is enough. Youare enough. More than enough,” he said in a rush, trying to convince both you and himself.

“Stop lying, please.” Your voice broke.

“I’m not. You are more than enough. Ever since I met you, I’ve had nothing but happiness. Everything is better because you’re with me.” He took your hands in his gently and kissed your knuckles.

“Then why do you keep thinking about her? Why do you keep spending entire nights awake, drinking and thinking about her?”

“I-“ but words failed him. He didn’t have an honest answer to that. And he didn’t want to think right now. He felt you slipping between his fingers, and fear engulfed him. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t lose you. Not you. Not the one person who had loved him for who he truly was. He couldn’t lose the one woman who did make his days better. He just couldn’t.

He knew he was being selfish, because despite all the love you had for him, his didn’t even come close. He was very aware that his heart still belonged to someone else, and you didn’t deserve scraps of love from anyone. He knew it. He knew it damn too well. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. He just wanted you to stay. Just for tonight. If only to quiet down the demons in his mind.

He let go of your hands and cupped your face gently. His thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks before placing a soft kiss upon your lips. And you knew it was just a trick for you to stay. A trick for you not to leave him alone tonight. Not tonight.

“I love you, Y/N,” he lied against your lips. And it broke your already shattered heart. But you took it. You took it one last time.

A sob threatened to escape you, so you kissed him again, this time more intensely. You wound your arms around his neck, and he picked you up off the floor. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your feet at the ankles behind his back.

He carried you to his bedroom easily while placing wet kisses on your lips and neck. He didn’t trip, not once. He knew the way too well. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d learned that trick when he used to fuck her.

“Bucky,” you called, and he stopped just before entering his room. He looked up at you, and you could see confusion in his eyes.

And fear.

You brushed his hair away from his face gently with both your index fingers, caressing his cheekbones in the process. You cupped his face in your hands and looked him in the eyes; a small sad smile appeared upon your lips. You wanted his face to be imprinted in your mind. You knew this was the last time you’d ever see him. But as much as you were hurting, you didn’t want to forget him at all.

“Babe-“ But you cut him off when you pressed your lips against his in a kiss that begged to last for an eternity.

“Make love to me tonight, Bucky,” you whispered against his lips, your eyes still closed. Your voice was laced with need, but not lust. You needed the last memory of him to be something as close to love as possible, even if he didn’t feel it.

He didn’t reply. He just kissed you back and entered the room. He put you gently down onto his bed, brushing the hair that had fallen on your face away from it oh so gently. He was looking at you with such tenderness that you almost took it for love.

Almost.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, and he obliged.

He kissed you slowly and gently, savoring the taste of your lips, as if he somehow knew this was going to be the last time he’d get to kiss you.

His lips migrated from your lips to your chin. You pushed your head back, exposing your neck while your hands ran softly up and down his sides, and you felt his muscles contract under your touch.

He left a map of wet kisses on your neck, licking and sucking on the spots that he knew made you weak, wrenching soft little moans from your mouth.

He made his way from your neck to your cleavage, licking and kissing the skin that the robe exposed. The fingers of his right hand danced across your left covered breast briefly, barely even touching you, but the action made your nipple harden, pressing up against the flimsy fabric of your robe. His fingers continued their journey down until they reached the belt of the garment. He pulled at one of the ends, undoing the knot. The robe fell open at your sides, exposing your naked body underneath.

He admired the sight before his eyes, running the pads of his fingers over your breasts, your hardened nipples, the valley between your breasts. His fingers made their way down to your ribs, your stomach, circling your belly button. His feathery touch made your muscles contract under it, and when his fingers stopped just above the patch of curls at the apex of your thighs, you gasped; your hips bucking upwards slightly in an attempt to get him to touch you.

He lowered his head and placed an open-mouthed kiss on the hollow between your ribs. His hot breath made you shiver, and when he started working his way lower down your stomach, your legs fell open on their own accord.

When he reached between your legs, he didn’t dive in right away. Instead, he started kissing your inner thighs painfully slowly, alternating kisses, licks and little soft bites that made you whimper with need and anticipation. You could feel your pussy getting wetter by the second. You wanted his sensual torture to end already. You wanted his lips to make contact where you needed it the most.

When he placed both your legs upon his shoulders, you knew what was coming next. He nestled his face between your thighs, and you looked down at him. All the teasing had you all flushed, and he loved the sight. So, looking right into your eyes, he pressed the flat of his tongue against your pussy. Your brow furrowed and your lips fell open slightly. You tried to focus on his face, doing your best not to close your eyes. But that was short-lived when, after a few broad licks across your folds. He captured your clit in his mouth and started sucking gently. You let out a moan and couldn’t help but close your eyes. You let your head fall back onto the soft pillows, and your hands threaded through his soft hair.

He’d alternate between broad licks across your pussy, kitten licks against your clit and sucking on it. The combination had your head spinning, and as time went by, your legs would try to get close together. You were close. He knew it by the way your pussy was flooding with your arousal. So instead of stopping, he sped up. He licked a few times before closing his lips around your clit and starting sucking and licking it at the same time.

He placed both his hands on your thighs and pried them apart as far as he could. Your fingers fisted his hair, and your lips started rocking in circles against his face. And it wasn’t long before your orgasm washed over you in waves.

Your backed arched off the mattress. Your legs closed, trapping his head between them. And when he didn’t let go, you tried to push his head away from your pussy. He lapped up at every single drop of your nectar until he was satisfied.

He made his way back up until his face was in front of yours. He swooped down and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was needier, hungrier, and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. You could taste yourself off his tongue, your juices smeared all over his lips and chin.

Your hands traveled down his sides to the hem of his grey sweats. Your thumbs hooked in the hem of them and pushed them down, but he was already painfully hard, his erection was a hindrance. So he stopped kissing you just long enough to get rid of his bottoms completely.

He hovered back over you, placing his elbows on either side of your face. You snuck your left hand between your bodies and grabbed his dick gently. You pumped it a few times before lifting your hips up and aligning his dick with your entrance. The tip was lodged at your opening, and all it took was a soft push from him. He pushed into you gently and slowly while his eyes were locked on yours. Both your mouths parted open in the shape of an o and your brows furrowed in pleasure. A moan escaped both of you in unison. It was the most in sync you’d ever been since you started dating.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and you locked your feet at the ankles. Your hands traveled to his face, your fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. You pulled him towards you in a sweet kiss, and he let his weight drop on his triceps. Now his body was completely on top of yours. You could feel his heat, his breath. You could feel the muscles of his pelvis contract every time he thrust into you.

His lips migrated from your mouth down to your neck. He sucked, licked and nibbled on the spots that he knew made you wet. And you reciprocated by giving his neck the same treatment. Your arms wound under his arms and around his back. Your fingertips danced across his soft skin, and you could feel the way his body reacted under your touch.

You knew he was close by the way his breath hitched in his throat and the way his movements grew more and more erratic. So you wrapped your arms around his body for dear life and started whispering in his ear words of encouragement. You knew the end was close, closer than what you would’ve liked. And you could feel your heart starting to break into a million little pieces.

“Bucky,” you called, and gathering all his will power, he looked into your eyes. “Cum for me,” you whispered.

And he did. Your words and the velvety feel of your tight pussy contracting around his dick were his undoing. He spilled his hot seed inside you, moaning and closing his eyes as he captured your lips in a needy, clumsy kiss.

He let all of his weight fall on top of you, and he nestled his face in the crook of your neck. He took his time to get his breathing back to normal while he stroked your hair and you stroked his back.

This was it.

This was the last time you’d ever see him. The last time you’d ever have him lying on top of you. The last time you’d enjoy the heat of his body, his scent, his kisses, his company. And the realization hit you like a bucket of ice cold water.

You knew that you’d be leaving your heart in his hands the moment you’d walk out his door. But you would also be setting him free. And isn’t that what love is all about in the end?

“I love you,” he whispered upon your neck, his breath tickling your skin, and placed a kiss upon your shoulder.

And up until now, you hadn’t realized that every time he’d said those words, not once had he said them straight to your face. He always hid to say them. Even now, after ‘making love’ to you, he couldn’t bring himself to say those words to you while looking you in the eyes.

A single teardrop fell from your left eye, and it got lost quickly in your hair.

“I love you too, Bucky,” you said in a barely audible whisper.

He lifted his face off your neck and looked at you, a cute, dorky smile curved the ends of his lips. You hadn’t left yet and you already missed him.

“Let’s get some sleep, doll,” he said. You just nodded.

But before he got off of you, he captured your lips in a slow kiss that left you wanting for more. Both of you moaned into the kiss when he finally pulled out of you.

He lied on his back with his right arm outstretched on the bed as an invitation for you to lie on it. So you did. You lied down on your left side, placing your head on his naked chest. His arms wrapped around your body and his fingers brushed lazily the curve of your hip and waist. He let out a content moan and closed his eyes. He fell asleep in seconds.

You looked up at him, and the hand that was resting on his chest traveled up to his face. You let your fingers dance ever so lightly across his features; his damp hair on his forehead, his eyes, the bridge of his perfect nose, his cheekbones, his plump red lips.

Tears started prickling in your eyes –hot and stinging- and you knew it was time to leave. If you stayed any longer, all your resolve would dissolve, and you’d stay. And you wanted to stay. God knew just how much you wanted to. But it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to either of you. So the best thing you could do was to let him go.

You got up slowly and carefully off the bed. You got dressed quickly and placed a neatly folded note on his bedside table. Your eyes went in his direction one last time. If only he could’ve seen the love you had for him written in your eyes, perhaps he would’ve finally reciprocated.

But he never got to. And now, he never would.

You leaned forward and placed a feathery kiss upon his lips. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice laced with pain.

And before your sobs threatened to wake him up, you walked out the door…and out of his life for good.

It was his turn to wake to an empty, cold spot in his bed. It had never happened before. Every time he’d wake up, he’d always find you by his side. And he felt an uneasy feeling in his gut.

He put the covers aside and swung his feet out the bed, placing them on the cold floor. When he made to get up, he saw the folded white note on his bedside table. And his heart fell to his feet.

He didn’t have to read the note to know what it said. He remembered your eyes last night, when you found him in the living room trying to drink her memory away. He knew you’d left. And he knew he’d never see you again.

But he read it anyway.

‘Falling for you was my mistake, and yet, I don’t regret having made it. You gave me comfort when I needed it the most, and I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for you. I love you, but I can’t keep living a lie. My heart can’t take it anymore. It’s not fair for neither you nor me. So this is me setting you free, Bucky. This is me setting both of us free.Goodbye.’

Description:Having just moved to Colombia from LA, you need a night off from unpacking and head to a nearby bar, where you happen upon a handsome stranger named Javier

Rating: Mature (I mean… it isJavier)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three 

Chapter Four (Coming Soon!)

Chapter 2: Inception

——

You liked fishing for possibilities. A mild coffee in the morning, whether you chose to drink it or not, bringing back an extra copy of the New York Times even if you didn’t read it. Asking for a guy’s phone number, it didn’t matter if you texted him or not.

The chance of option and subconscious search for these options of potential, unbeaten paths were tiny luxuries you indulged in.

You were naturally opportunistic, whether be it for better or worse. Opportunity could lend itself to usefulness and the more it became a part of your routine, the easier it was to carry out tasks they asked of you.

This was what brought you to the pet store on a Sunday morning, just a day after moving into your new apartment. Sam’s Pet Store, a locally owned family pet shop that was about as rare to find in a city of chains and franchises as the mythical unicorn tattoo that inked itself on the cashier’s forearm.

Parrots preening their feathers in generously spaced cages and red-eared sliders basking under sunny UV lamps pointed to the reason this place might’ve still been standing for the past ten years.

You’d been searching for a friend as of late; a non-human companion was much easier to manage, and not to mention you wouldn’t really have to worry about them behind your back. They were uncomplicated—you met their needs and they would do just fine.

Walking past the aquatic section, you glanced over at the colorful gravel and decor lining the shelves. Something caught your attention, and you readjusted the bag on your shoulder to stoop down and take a look.

In one of the several aquariums set up along the side of the store was a lone angelfish in its tank. Well, perhaps alone wasn’t the right word—it had companions, flitting this way and that around the space of their tank. Their gracefulness was alluring to watch, pale bodies seeming to flow in a way that was hypnotizing. But this one was by itself, separate from the rest of its finned friends. The possibility of forming attachments, yet for some reason or another choosing not to. Perhaps for similar reasons as yourself.

By the time you had picked up your afternoon lunch at the gyro place next door, you had acquired pink aquarium gravel, water treatment solution, and a new friend in haul. The remainder of her needs were covered in a plastic bag of supplies in the crook of your elbow. Hands full, you decided to head back to the apartment to finish unpacking and to set up the aquarium.

——

The kind of thoughts that drowned your conscience weren’t centered at first around the assignment. They were that of family, friends, people you could have loved. Your home growing up wasn’t remarkable in any good sense; in fact, perhaps it was fortunate for you that your home life was complicated. Family wasn’t something used as leverage for you—they were unable to communicate with you at this point.. Rather, you were your own leverage, your well-being and sacrifices coming first. But that kind of existence came with an exchange; you had no one to be accountable for, nor anyone to specifically care for you. A ghastly wandering soul on an abundantly lacking earth.

Was it better or worse this way? Staring up at the ceiling from the dusty couch cushions, you had decided it had to be for the better. You’d seen your fellow employees tied down by circumstances outside of their control; family members outside of their control. At least this way there was no one left to exist as baggage—even if you still thought of them.

Eyes flitted down to the coffee table adjacent to the couch as you watched your new fish friend, Pavlov, swim around her tank. A sense of comfort could be found in having another living being in the same room as you. Semi-reflective scales changed direction as she searched for a suitable home within her aquatic sanctuary. The tank itself, aside from gravel and a plastic plant, was empty. That would be unacceptable. Restless, with no cover, Pavlov’s anxiety would grow. She’d need a real home.

Silence washed over the apartment with a restlessness you could feel in your bones. Acknowledging the fact that it would be better to get to work sooner than later, you decided to get a move on with getting to know your patient.

Shoving yourself off of the couch, you moved to the open file sitting on the kitchen counter and closed it, sticking it in a bin full of manila folders with your unpacked stuff. Heading to your suitcase in a corner near your bed, you changed out of business casual attire, slipping into a plain white tee and a pair of stretch jeans and sneakers. A couple spliffs in your pocket, you left your hair in a casual up-do as you closed the door behind you, making sure it was securely locked.

It was time to smoke.

The outside steps of the apartment facing the busy street, you found, was the perfect spot to take in a moment of silence. With one or two swipes of a match and a homemade rollup, you inhaled the burning bud and watched as wisps of smoke poured out into the open air. After a few breaths, a calming feeling came over you and you felt you could think a little more clearly.

Elliot Alderson. An enigma of a human being, from what you’d read in his file. A blackhat hacker with a whitehat day job. Not the most atypical, but the fact that he would work for a security company while doing what he did in his free time?

Another breath.

It was a smart move, really. He seemed smart, so your approach would have to be relatively inconspicuous.

You finally let the joint fall to the cement, grinding the ember out with the heel of your shoe. You stood up, tucked the remaining matches back into your pocket and dialed in the key code to get back inside.

The hallway was dim compared to the outside world. It took your eyes a second to adjust to the low light. Aside from the creaky stairs, you could get used to this place. You decided to focus on that as you headed up the stairs. The more you tried to figure out your plan of approach, the more uptight you knew you’d become. The urge to have a neat, cut out plan was tempting you into inaction, but better judgement said the longer you waited, the more you’d only hold yourself back.

At the top of the stairs, you received a text on your phone from Irving.

2:33PM>Tabs on the guy needed. Get to it, sweetheart.

You shut your phone off and slipped it into your back pocket, feeling your heart beat faster as you approached the apartment door. Your skin still crawled whenever you received anything from them. Five years later and you still felt the same as you did before.

Taking a deep breath, and starting to feel the pressure from your employers, you stepped forward and knocked on the door, trying to clear your mind at the last minute.

Silence.

Another few knocks. Fingers tapped the side of your jeans in impatience. First interaction and all you could only think about was how he sure took his time. That you didn’t have. Then as soon as you leaned forward to knock again, the door opened. If blatant mistrust could communicate itself through a single action, it was the way he opened the door. Wide eyes peered at you startlingly as it swung open to reveal a mid-sized man in his late twenties, dressed far more casually than you would have initially anticipated.

He said nothing, though his eyes seemed to communicate every piece of his visible confusion at someone he never saw appearing at his doorway. His suspicion was obvious, and it surprised you, even though it shouldn’t have. Perhaps it was the level of authenticity that you weren’t anticipating.

You paused, having to take it in for a moment before shifting your focus. A smile quickly washed over your face as you let your hands fall into your pockets.

“Hey. Sorry to bother, I was just wondering—You don’t have a lighter on you, do you?”

You fished out one of the remaining joints from your pocket and held it up as you spoke, an expression of apology evident in your tone.

As he stared back at you with a somewhat blank expression, you could feel your pulse began to pick up again. This was going to be the hardest part, you assured yourself. Meeting new clients often was.

He finally blinked and seemed to register your question, but didn’t open the door any more than he had initially.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll go get it.”

Hesitantly, he disappeared back into his apartment for a moment, leaving the door cracked open in front of you.

You considered going in, taking a second to think. A question popped into your head, wondering what boundaries that would cross for this initial meeting. After a brief but careful deliberation, you made your choice. Maybe it wasn’t an invitation, but you pushed open the door to step inside.

He appeared to be rummaging through a couch cushion to look for it, and your eyes gazed around his apartment in the meantime. Relatively plain, it seemed the only aspect of his place that wasn’t minimalist living were his multiple monitors sitting at his desktop. No notable picture frames up on the walls, no posters. Not even any cheesy magnets up on the fridge.

“Here.”

His eyes were fixed as he pushed a lighter towards you—apparently he’d found it. A strange feeling of caution washed over you. You could sense he’d been watching you, even when his eyes weren’t actively on you.

You took the lighter, a natural curiosity pushing through your wariness.

“So,” you started casually. “Want to smoke?”

When he seemed hesitant, you couldn’t help but roll you eyes in response. Despite the nature of your job, it was often your true personality showing through. Most of the time, surprisingly, it helped you in your work. A little natural impatience could go a long way.

“C'mon, it might as well be better than whatever you’re doing right now, or it’ll at least make it better. And if I’m being honest, it’s no fun smoking alone.”

Must he really need any more convincing? It turns out that was enough to reason him to utter a monotone, ‘Okay,’ and the two of you made your way to the front steps of the apartment. By the time the doors closed behind you outside, you pushed a roll into his chest.

He took it between his lips and you took the liberty of lighting it for him. You watched as the smoke left his nostrils, your interest in him slowly piquing.

“You live here for very long?” Your questions started off casual.

He seemed quiet when answering. “Not really. Just a few years, about.”

Nodding in response, you let him take another drag before taking it back from him.

“What’s the neighborhood like?”

“It’s alright, I guess.”

Another drag.

“So you’re telling me I could walk around here at 3am without worrying about getting mugged?”

Silence.

You turned back to him, attention drawn by the lack of response. You could see he seemed uncomfortable, sort of just stood there, not responding.

“What’s up?”

You handed the spliff back to him, leaving the question open-ended.

After some more silence, he replied, “I’m just not that good at… Small talk.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if you came off too strongly, and to be fair, that might have been the case.

“It’s alright,” you said with a shrug. “If I’m being honest, I tend to initiate things a lot. It usually makes the awkward parts go by faster.”

He just nodded, again not saying anything. The two of you sat in silence, while you took in the moment, letting time pass. After a few passes back and forth, you looked over. You could see his expression changed in a way that forced you to break the silence with a laugh.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Your face. Your expression, is all,” you explained with a snort. “It’s good bud, right?”

Finally, for the first time you could see the edge of his lip turn up in the beginnings of a smile. Or a smirk.

“Hey, you know what we should do right now?”

He turned his head to you partly, green eyes only half-open in an obvious high.

“What?”

Perhaps it was coincidence that it’d crossed your mind. The statement was still in his file, but you’d told yourself for the moment it was a point of commonality.

“Have you ever seen that movie Back To The Future II?”